Time Keeps Marching On....

Well, it's been over a year since I last posted, which somewhat boggles my mind.  I know that I am not alone in the fact that time changes as I age.  Twenty-four hours doesn't seem the same as it did when I was young. I still remember the seeming endlessness of summer vacation, with long, lazy days and complaining of being bored.  I'm never bored now.  I don't know if that's an improvement, but it is what it is.  Summer now zips by, and the next one is upon me before I can believe it.  I start school again at the end of this month, and as I am lucky enough not to be starting at a new job for the first time in four years, I am looking forward to it.

I am actually lucky enough to be teaching the same grade in the same school next year - I even get to stay in the same room.  It's another one year leave replacement, but I'm relishing the ability to actually build on the work I did last year, rather than leave it in a filing cabinet for the next person.

One of the reasons I'm now never bored is that there is always something new going on - sometimes good, and sometimes not so good.  One of the not so good things happened last week - I was getting ready to go out in the morning, and walked into the kitchen to find a puddle covering the floor.  Being the quick-witted gal that I am, I instantly recognized that something was probably not as it should be.  Upon closer investigation, I discovered this:

Even without my glasses, the cause was startlingly apparent - who would have thought a pipe could be metal one minute, and fine, dusty particles the next?  Luckily, one of the wonderful benefits of owning an apartment and not a house is that I have a super I can call on his cell phone who will come and fix life's little problems.  We now have a fully functioning, less airy pipe, and all the sundry nonsense I keep under the sink has been dried out and returned.

Spring, Spring, Spring, Spring

I love the advent of spring.  I think I must have a touch of SAD, because the winter always gets me down a bit.  It doesn't help that the cold and I are not friends, and that my circulation is stinky and causes me to lose feeling in my fingers and toes as soon as I go outside in cold weather.  I get so weary of darkness, and every year when spring starts to appear, I feel a definite lift of my spirits.  I love the buds on the tress, the warm sun coming through my windows, and all the flowers shoving their way up through the cold ground.  I even finished some really springy-looking socks, and though they are wool, they're pretty lightweight and good for this weather.

Geek that I am, the main reason I finally finished these socks is because I wanted the leftover sock yarn for my blanket (you can see a big square of it at the top).  I thought I had a lot of leftovers, but the blanket plows through them pretty fast, so I'm going to have to purchase some odd skeins if I want to continue with it, as my rate of sock knitting is not nearly fast enough to get ends to add squares.

I also must admit that I got a chuckle from knitting squares with the sock yarn while wearing the socks, but then, I am easily amused that way....

It's Raining....

unfortunately in my apartment.  (Well, not anymore, as this is a post from Tuesday that I couldn't get the pictures to work on.)  We have been battling leaks around our windows for years (supposedly it's coming in through the bricks of the building), and numerous companies have been called in; they set up scaffolding, bang around on the side of the building for a few days, declare the job completed, charge the building many thousands of dollars, and are on their merry way.  And then it rains again, (it has to be a rain with hard winds, and since we are so close to the coast and tall, these are not infrequent), and my windowsill once again looks like this.  It drips in weird places around the top of the window frames, and then the drips splash onto our window seat, hence the myriad of towels and containers.

Now it's finally dried out, and I've washed all the soggy towels, and put back my curtains and the cushion for the window seat.  The wood surrounding all my windows is totally trashed, but our building will take care of that once they tell us that the outside is, once again, fixed.  I'm sure it will work this time.....

2000 what???

I had to write my first couple of checks of the New Year this week, and it's always a struggle.  I'm amazed at how fast the years seem to flip these days.  (And, I'm disturbed to hear myself saying things like that.  Soon it will be "In my day....")  All in all, 2009 was a good year, with ups and downs like any other.

We got a new dog, I got (and finished) a leave replacement job, the kids successfully moved on to their new grades, The Professor hooked up our church with a soup kitchen and has done fabulous work arranging (and hauling) food deliveries, and I think everyone has generally been pretty happy. I even got some knitting done (although I didn't take pictures of all the Christmas knitting I did before I sent it on its way..duhhh). 

It's been an interesting year.  Sadly, this was the year I had planned to re-enter the full-time work force, just about the time that all the schools started laying off teachers, and people put off retirement because their 401K's tanked. As in many things, my timing was impeccable... I know I'm in a better boat than many, because we have been living off one income for many years (while I've been home with the kids), so nobody's losing their house or anything.  It's just that I had always assumed that when I was ready to go back to work, work would be ready for me.  Staying home with the kids was a huge transition for me, as I've worked since I hit high school.  I finally got into the groove with that, but, as kids do, they kept growing and ended up in school!  Ahh, outsourcing. 

Now I find myself having to write essays entitled "Describe a challenge that you had to overcome in your academic or professional career" and taking tests with 22 year olds.  While age has given me (I hope!) wisdom, it's also made me more tired (and way more intolerant, but that's a whole other post...).  Now, off to write 500 words on that challenging experience - do you think they'll accept an essay about potty training?

The Never Ending Battle....

and I think I'm losing!  I had a commenter who asked about how we store the kids' toys in a small space.  We live in a 2-bedroom apartment (I think it's under 1000 sq. ft.), and it's a constant struggle to keep the amount of stuff down to an acceptable level.  Now, my acceptable level may be higher than yours, but I do what I can.

I think the biggest battle with living in a small space is keeping things from coming in.  I'm pretty good at going through old/outgrown toys and clothes and sending them on their way.  What is really hard is the constant stream of things that come in (the holidays are especially painful, although as the kids get older, their toys are getting smaller).

My kids share a room, and it's a decent sized space.  They have bunkbeds, and their room has quite a large closet in it (which is used by all of us, because the two closets in our bedroom are split up so you can't hang anything long in them - the previous owner was a man, and I think forgot that half the world might want to hang a dress....).

A couple years back, I got this for the kids room from IKEA.  I really like IKEA - I'm Swedish, so I'm amused by all the silly names on the furniture, and for something the kids are going to be banging on every day, the furniture is cheap enough that it won't break my heart if it doesn't last forever.  This unit is big (almost 5' X 5'), and I got the square drawers for the bottom squares - they each have a row, and they are supposed to use the cubes to organize (i.e. Barbies, cars, dinosaurs, etc.).  The top 2 rows have some tubs of things like Legos, and stacks of games.  It's worked out pretty well, although getting it up the stairs was a trick - the boxes were REALLY heavy, as The Professor can attest.  It also bolts to the wall, so I don't have to worry about anyone toppling it over on themselves.  It has a flat top, so all the pottery creations the kids keep bringing home (and can't bear to part with) have a place to live other than on my kitchen counter.

Dealing with "stuff" is definitely an uphill battle, but I've found some pretty good motivation - catch "Hoarders" on A&E - I've been watching it on the computer (being a cheapie, I don't have this channel on the actual television) and it always gets me going to clean out a nook or two!

It's Awfully Dark

That was the thought in my head when I woke up this morning. It was raining, so I wasn't expecting it to be bright at 6:15, but I do remember thinking that it was awfully dark. I showered, dressed, and began making breakfast for me and the kiddoes when I noticed the clock over the stove read 5:45. I thought I was reading it wrong, but imagine my surprise when the microwave clock agreed with it. Were the appliances plotting something?

I ruefully laughed at my error, mistaking the 5 for a 6 on the clock radio, until I went back into my room and saw that it was a 6. Meaning the time button had been pressed and advanced the clock.

Now that it's finally my usual waking time, I am noticing that it's quite a bit brighter outside, and I have the feeling it's going to be a loooooong day.

Well, It's Cooler Now

Yup - that's what was hovering outside our window yesterday afternoon. It has been rather warm the last week, and I guess the weather finally gave up. This began forming, and it was so dense that you could see it moving past. Quite spectacular, and the ensuing rain did cool things down, for which we are all grateful.

No Wrench Required

We got a new dishwasher about a year and a half ago, after our old one gave up the ghost and refused to distribute soap anymore (plus I think it was older than I am, so it had fulfilled it's useful life span long before we even got here). I love having a dishwasher. This is the first place I've lived (since leaving my parents' home) with a dishwasher, and I can't tell you the hours it has freed up in my day. It disturbs me that I have been given all these extra hours, but oddly, don't have any particular accomplishments to account for them.

I like the one we bought, and it's really efficient - it uses only about 5 gallons of water for the whole cycle. However, it has recently started grumbling at me. It started as a once in a while thing - like someone being just slightly annoyed and then leaving the room. In the last couple of days it has turned into a full-fledged angry fight about 5 minutes after it's turned on.

Hmmmm....I'm not a particularly handy person, but my dad is, so I gave him a call. He suggested taking off the sprayer arm and checking to see if anything was caught. Sounded good, so this morning I emptied it out, took out the lower basket, and realized that my spray arm is completely smooth on top. No convenient little bolt holding it into place that I could unscrew and thus remove said spray arm. I examined it a bit more, and discovered that the mechanism seemed to be threaded, and could be lifted, twisted, and then removed. I was so excited to have made this earth-shattering discovery, but was promptly disappointed to find nothing stuck in there which could account for my clearly angry dishwasher.

Off to Google (I love Google) rumbling noise in the dishwasher. It's amazing how specific you can get in your questions to find an answer. Lots of people seemed to have this problem with GE dishwashers, and the fix seemed silly. It involved only a twist-tie. It was easy. Can't possibly work.

Well, one twist-tie later, and my dishwasher is now my quiet, uncomplaining and faithful companion once again. Welcome back old friend.

Putting in the Hours

I've recently been reading Loud and Clear by Anna Quindlen, and it's brought back to me how much I enjoy her writing. She is probably most well known for her NY Times columns, but has also written fiction and non-fiction books, as well as a couple of children's books. Her writing not only makes me want to read, but it makes me want to write. And therein lies the difficulty.

Writing is hard. I find that writing is kind of like singing. Most people seem to think they can sing (judging from American Idol, which is like a train wreck - if I pass it when flipping channels, it's so painful that I'm compelled to watch, and then I feel slightly dirty...); you don't hear people walking around thinking they can play the violin. Clearly, one can't just pick up a violin and produce anything akin to music. But many people seem to forget that even though someone may be endowed with singing talent, those that make a career of it have spent a whole lot of hours working at it.

I think of writing in the same way. If you're at all literate, you learned the mechanics of writing in school, probably with some creative writing instruction thrown in for good measure. And when you read really good writing, it seems so effortless, much like when you listen to a really good violin performance. This leads one to think that all they need to do is grab a pen and some paper and write the Great American Novel.

Hmmmm....ever tried that? It's like trying to play a violin concerto without the benefit of the countless hours of practice. The power of language is extraordinary, and when it's used well by someone that has worked hard at the craft, it has the ability to make us laugh or cry, sometimes both at the same time. When a writer gets a turn of phrase just right, it's a joy to read. Sadly, it's much easier to read good writing than it is to produce it. I was trained as a classical flutist, but part-way through my conservatory training, I realized that there were people out there that could play in a way that I never could, no matter how many hours I spent in my practice room. I had enough ability to recognize this extraordinary talent when I heard it; unfortunately, my abilities didn't go so far as replicating it.

So, I sit at my computer (or with pen and paper) and do what I can. I saw a documentary a while back about a writer (whose name completely escapes me) whose day job is a scientist. Outside of work hours he manages to write fictional novels. (I know - showoff!) He stated that the hardest part of being a writer is putting in the hours to write. While I don't believe this is true (for me, anyway), it falls into the category of the concept of time spent in the practice room. Unfortunately, I seem to have the attention span of a flea these days, but maybe I can work on becoming a flea who occasionally produces an excellent turn of phrase.

Well, At Least It's Not Boring

Had a bit of excitement here at Chez Necessity this week. We own an apartment in a co-op building, and about 4 years ago we had a pretty major fire in the building. It happened at around 9:00 at night, the kids were asleep, and when I looked out our window I saw firemen running across the street with hoses. Running with hoses is never good, so we grabbed the kids and the dog and got out. I, of course, had decided to take an early shower and get into pajamas. Nothing more fun than standing on the street with all your neighbors wearing pajamas while every single other adult is wearing actual clothes (or firefighting gear...). It was a major fire, which completely gutted about 7 apartments, but thankfully no one was injured, and miraculously our apartment was spared - we didn't even have smoke damage.

After the fire, as one can imagine, everyone was a bit on edge, and there were lots of false alarms which required everyone to exit the building, probably around 7 or 8 times. I've finally gotten to the point where my heart doesn't start racing when I hear firetrucks on the street (a rather frequent occurrence, as we live on a busy street near about 7o fire stations), so imagine the jumps my heart took when, on Tuesday night, I looked out the window and saw a fire truck pulled up in front of the building. Of course it was night, and the kids were already in bed. We got their shoes (and my purse - didn't bring it during the real fire, and learned to always bring your purse) and as the firefighters were evacuating us, we quickly removed ourselves.

Turns out there was a gas smell in the hall, so the firefighters were called. They finally found the leak, and it turns out it was very small and of no danger at all. Excellent.

And then, somebody went across the street to get a piece of pizza, and reported that he smelled gas across the street. This caused the firefighters to throw up their hands and glance heavenward (neither of which I enjoy seeing firefighters doing) and they headed across the street. It was eventually decided that all was well with our building, and we brought our sleepy kids (actually, I was a whole lot more sleepy than they were) inside.

Today, the street looks like this:

Yup, that's a big old whole in the middle of the street with a worker standing in it. Guess our little problem helped find a slightly bigger one!

Creativity, But Not My Own

I've always been incurably nosy, and one of the things that always fascinates me is the way people choose to spend their time, both in work and leisure. I'm forever intrigued by people that have a passion for something, whether it be knitting, writing, kite flying, or whatever. The passion is what I find wonderful. When they start talking about their favorite subject, their eyes light up, and it's abundantly clear that they love whatever it is they're discussing.

Thus, I love trolling the web for people's blogs; not only does it allow me to peek into someone's life, but the authors usually write about whatever their passion happens to be. I came across this one recently; it's about book and magazine covers, and is really neat. It's an interesting window into a subject I know almost nothing about, but as an avid reader, I am grateful that someone else does.

Yes, I Think I'm Ready For Some Change...

Here's a riddle for you:

Question: How many nights of being awakened by a sick child does it take before you become so sleep-addled you can no longer function?

Answer: Four

Well, I didn't say it was going to be a funny riddle.

While we thought Miss Serious was all fixed yesterday, we were clearly wrong, and so she is home again. She is rather endearing however, because when I told her she was going to have to miss school (she really likes school) she was sad, but asked, "Well, if I have to stay home, could I at least watch the inauguration?" Warms your heart when a 7-year old wants to watch the presidential inauguration.

We watched it together, and it made me realize what a cynic I have become about politics, politicians, and government in general. I don't buy into the whole rock-star following of Obama thing, but his speech today filled me with a sense of hope that I haven't felt about our country for a very long time. It was so heartening to hear our president talk about environmental issues, tolerance, peace, personal responsibility, and the importance of being the people we were meant to be.

I don't know if these promises will be fulfilled, but I am overwhelmed with gratitude to have a president who plans on trying.

Now You See It, Now You Don't

Sort of. After some very unpleasant person hit my car and vamoosed in the parking lot of Trader Joe's, we were left with an unsightly dent in our poor little car, affectionately named Tiny Shiny. We were kicking around whether to take it to a body shop, but lately in the spirit of both wanting to send our kids to college and not being destitute in our old age I have been trying to be a little more handy; I've done some basic things around the house (caulking, painting, drywall taping) and changed my own oil long ago when I actually had a driveway, but had never tackled anything dealing with the outside of a car.

So, I toddled myself over to the automotive store to pick up some rubbing compound and touch-up paint. One would think this would be an easy trip, but one would be wrong. Apparently I needed some sort of code regarding the paint color, as well as knowing whether or not I had a clear coat (I do, but didn't know that at the time). Then, when I read the directions for the rubbing compound, there were multiple warning about it ruining the paint on the car, which was surprisingly not what I was going for. Hmmm.....more research needed to be done.

Luckily, Google is my friend, and I found out all the answers I needed, such as I do have a clear coat, I can get a paint pen from the dealer, and rubbing compound will be ok as long as I don't get overzealous in my rubbing of said compound.

Off to the dealer, back to the automotive store, where I also now needed to purchase sandpaper to take off the rust that had started to form on the dent, and I was in business. Sadly, being me, these items sat unused in my car until yesterday, when I finally decided that I was mentally ready.

Half and hour later, and the car went from this:

to this:
Still a dent, but definitely an improvement, if I do say so myself.

A Little Bit of Spring

Spring's such a tease, isn't she?

Time-saving Technology

I am not a very technical person. I understand the things I absolutely need to know (like how to turn the computer on) and not much else. We don't have lots of fancy gadgets here at Chez Necessity, but we do keep the basics around to document children doing/saying/wearing silly things.

Unfortunately, said basic items have been falling apart. The video camera was the first to go. Last Christmas (not this past one, the one before - did I mention I'm a procrastinator?) I went to video the kids opening their presents and thought I had the lens cap on; I was recording the thrilling sounds of presents being opened, but unless they were in a blackout of some sort, something was wrong. Sadly, when I went to remove the offending lens cover, I couldn't, because it had already been removed (in itself an unusual turn of events). Using my wealth of technological knowledge, I turned it off and then on again. Oddly, this didn't fix the problem. I then went to my backup and whacked the thing on the top, but strangely, this also didn't work.

Several months later, I decided to give it another go (ever the optimist - maybe it just needed to rest) and try to film Big Trouble's dance recital. This time, the whacking on the top did the trick and we got video of him, but when it came time for Miss Serious' recital, we had no such luck. I haven't taken it in to be fixed, because I know in my heart that they will tell me that it will cost buckets of money, and as it's several years old, it doesn't make sense to pour all those dollars into it.

Fast forward to last week, and the digital camera starts being wonky. It started with little problems, and finally ended up that it would only take one picture; it then had to be shut off and turned on again before it would agree to take a second picture. (I may have also dropped it at this point). So, we decided this would be a good time to replace both items with a digital camera that takes video. Simple, right? Just go on the web, read some reviews, and buy a new camera - easy-peasy!

Unfortunately, I hadn't had the forethought to realize that unlike 6 years ago when we purchased our first camera, there are now 7 bajillion kinds of cameras on the market. And now you can read 8 million customer reviews which are all contradicting each other. And when we finally pick a camera after countless hours logged on the computer by both The Professor and me, we discover that we will need to purchase a memory card. No problem - but when we look up memory cards, there are 9 billion kinds (also with ratings) and called different things, and costing wildly different amounts of money (leading to the inevitable questions about why, and more computer searching). At this point, my head begins to hurt, and I decide that both coffee and knitting are the solution, as I am no longer formulating coherent thoughts. Luckily The Professor slogged on, made the necessary decisions, and ordered the camera.

It should be here in 3-5 business days, which is remarkably similar to the amount of time we've spent on the computer hunting for it.

Spring is Springing!

Well, after a long and odd winter (Today it's 60! Tomorrow will be 20! The next day - who knows?) spring is coming. How do I know?


We spied these outside Big Trouble's preschool - the first evidence I've seen that spring really is coming. He took the picture, and was quite proud of himself (the one he took of my chin is not being used here, for obvious reasons).

I like winter for about 10 minutes, and then I'm done and can't wait for spring. I love when you can still see the blue sky at 5:00, and the birds start shouting things to each other, and you don't have to dress the kids in giant coats (and hats, mittens, etc.) all the time, and I generally perk up. It always feels like there are things to look forward to when I know spring is on its way. I don't know what these things are supposed to be, but I'm pretty sure there will be things.

On another note, this is what you do for fun if your mom knits:

And So It Begins...

After months of thinking about a blog, reading other people's blogs, and changing the settings/templates/fonts/colors (and anything else I could think of) on my own blog, I guess it's finally time to post an entry in the darn thing. I wanted a place where I could write about my life, such as it is. But, as I always discover when I sit down to write, writing is hard. When I think about why I like certain writers, it always comes down to the fact that I am attracted to their voice. I am working on finding my own voice, and hope that it is one that I will like.

We shall see.