Lunch with the Mallards

More gorgeous weather.  More weekday lunches by the river.  I found a quiet spot, away from the benches and tables where many convene and talk loudly (to each other or on their cell phones (grrr)).  Just five minutes down the river, where there are large tiers of concrete leading to the water.  And now, it’s even quieter, that the RISD students have vacated the nearby buildings for the summer. 

Lunch, iced coffee, iPod, Sunday crossword.  Armed and ready to go. 

Just as I was settling on a concrete step, a mallard couple came onto the bank.  They didn’t seem fazed by me and put on their preening show.  I tossed a forkful of rice from my mélange of spicy rice, linguiça (Portuguese sausage), mushrooms, and scallions.  The rice really wasn’t all that spicy, especially compared with the linguiça, so I thought it was the best thing I had to offer them.  If you know otherwise, like ducks will die if they eat rice, please don’t tell me.  I will feel very bad and may even cry.

Anyway, Mrs. Mallard ate every grain.  So I gave her more.  And more.  I was surprised by how much she ate.  Mr. Mallard tried some, too, but either didn’t care for it or was being chivalrous and letting the missus chow down.  They preened some more and eventually paddled down the river, only to return ten minutes later.  I still had some rice left and continued to share with Mrs. Mallard.  She dared to come closer to me, so I sat very still, not wanting to startle her.  Interestingly, each time she came closer, Mr. Mallard made it a point to step up, too, placing himself between us.  How very thoughtful to be so protecting.  When all the rice was gone, the mallards put on a big preening and bathing extravaganza, showing off their wings and their insanely flexible necks.

Honestly, I’m not a people hater, but I would have to say that lunch with the mallards was much more enjoyable than sitting among the cigar smokers and people squawking on their cell phones.  I’ll do some research to find what I can bring for the mallards next time, should they decide to dine with me again.  Cracked corn, perhaps?

PINHEAD OF THE DAY AWARD goes to Linda, for being the 10 bazillionth customer to ask me why her Print Screen button doesn’t work.  Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!

Me:  It’s really more like a Copy Screen command.

Linda:  So how do you get it to print?

Me:  You have to paste it into something, like a Word document.

L:  Then how do you copy it?

Are you listening to me here?

Me:  The Print Screen button actually copies.

L:  Well, don’t I have to right click?

Me:  No.  Just Print Screen, which COPIES (how many times do I have to say that?), and then paste it somewhere.

L:  Okay.  I’ll try that.  Hold on.

Me:  You don’t believe me?!
(I couldn’t hold back any longer.)

L:  Yeah, I’ve just never used this before.
Obviously.

Me:  Well, I have.  So trust me.

I find it very frustrating when someone comes to me with a question, I provide a response, and then said person doesn’t believe me.  Presumably, he or she came to me and not someone else because he/she thought I would know the correct answer.  And then, after implying cluelessness (by having to ask the question in the first place), casting doubt when I provide a speedy response?

If I am uncertain about something, I will say so.  After so many years of working with attorneys, I have learned to cover my ass at all times.  “I think,” “but I’m not sure,” “that was a while ago; it may be different now” are all phrases frequently used by moi when communicating in the workplace.  CYA.  Cover Your Ass.

Thanks for the interruption, Linda.  Now I can get back to what I was working on:

A BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout out to my BFFs, Jenny and Olivia (May 22 and 23, respectively).  On Saturday, Jenny and I went to the Flutterby exhibit at the zoo.  Jenny had gone to a similar exhibit when she lived in Minnesota and enjoyed it.  As lovely as the exhibit was, we both admitted we thought it would be larger.  Oh, well.  Some photos are posted in my Flickr link.  At one point, as I was clicking away, Jenny noticed some people standing nearby pointing to my backside.  Yup, one of the butterflies had landed on my butt.  Sorry, no photo of that.  Just seconds later, another alit briefly on my wrist.  Awwww.  But no one else had butterflies on them.  And then it dawned on me.  I had spritzed on some gardenia body splash before leaving the house.  Hahaha.  Sorry, butterflies.

With plenty of time to spare before heading out to dinner, we decided to check out the rest of the zoo.  It had been ten plus years for me and an eternity since Jenny had visited the zoo, and the weather was perfect.  Lastly, we had dinner at a Mexican restaurant.  Jenny’s new doctor has her on a gluten- and dairy-free diet, so no cake or ice cream.  Bummer.  Major bummer for Jenny, who has another three weeks to go until her next appointment.  She is jonesing for some cheese.  And ice cream.  I would be, too.

The continued good weather on Sunday, paired with seeing all the beautiful flowers at the Flutterby exhibit, inspired me to get to the garden shop and get my annuals planted.  Thirty impatiens in pinks and white now dot my window boxes and various planters on and around the front steps and porch.  I planted pink geraniums and a dracaena spike in the barrel planter that sits on the oak stump in the front corner of the yard, near the hosta garden.  Lastly, I got creative with my three remaining impatiens.  I salvaged the big 18” clay pot that is now bottomless thanks to a bad crack.  I dug a hole in an empty spot of the perennial bed and set the pot in at an angle.  Then I partially filled the pot and planted the impatiens so it looks like they are growing out from a tumbled planter (which basically they are).  I think it looks pretty cool.  I’ll post a photo when the impatiens fill out.

Olivia and I chatted on Monday.  She and Dave are hoping to make a summer visit.  Even better, they are trying to return to Massachusetts.  Liv never really wanted to go to California, but she gave it a chance, and now it’s time to come home.  Dave finally has accepted that the housing market there is absolutely ridiculous.  Damn good thing they decided against selling their Massachusetts house after all.

So, perhaps within a year, my two bestest friends will both be living in the area for the first time since we graduated from high school.  How cool is that?

Happy weekend!

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Happy Day, Mothers

Creatures of routine, or can it be called tradition?

Once again, we had a cookout at Tim’s.  Once again, Tim and I bought assorted annuals for Mom’s flowerbeds and planters.  We’ll go up next weekend to help get them all planted.  And once again, we had an early celebration of Jackie’s birthday (May 15).

Once again, I was in charge of dessert for the cookout.  This year it was cheesecake brownies and a (virtually sugar-free) fresh berry tart.

How nice that the rain stopped for an entire day.

Mom brought Gram’s photo albums, and everyone (even Jackie’s mom and stepdad) enjoyed looking through them after lunch.  The fashions were truly hideous (dropped waist dresses?), and I was left with the thought that in days of yore, people got their kicks by dressing up ugly and taking each others’ photos.

One particularly grim-looking woman appeared in several photos.  It turns out she was my grandmother’s aunt Mabel, who unfortunately beared more than a passing resemblance to Woody Allen.  Woody circa 1970, dressed in 1930s drag.  Same nose, same black framed eyeglasses.  Not an attractive woman.  Grim.

 

You like?  The plan was to make several and list the others on Etsy.  As usual, I didn’t get my act together in time, and waited until Saturday to make the cards.  I did make the extra ones, so I’ll have something for sale next year – assuming I don’t misplace them or procrastinate in actually posting the listing at the appropriate time.

I bet if I were a mother, I’d have better time management skills.

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A Newsletter Update

It’s like I’ve been busy or something… 

Here’s a compilation of updates. 

FIRST OF ALL…

The shirt?  It relates to school and my latest academic venture, which stems from all the stuff that happened at work last year that I never got around to posting about.  Previously alluded to here. 

I do want the shirt.  But then I wonder if it looks uber-geeky.  I wouldn’t want anyone mistaking me for a programmer or a Trekkie, or a grown person who still plays with Star Wars dolls – I mean, action figures.

If you are not one of us, you cannot read this.

Oh, god, it does sound geeky, doesn’t it?  But then, the only people who could read it would know better.  That is, the other COURT REPORTERS (or court reporters in training).  Yup, that’s what I’m taking.  It will be at least three more years before I’m finished and certified, but I am very excited for the future.  In fact, I just upgraded from my manual writer.  (That’s what WE call stenograph machines – writers).  Ebay rules.

TWITTER

I was on the two-week roller coaster that is Twitter.  Loved it, and then realized it was way too much of a commitment for me.  I’m already spread too thin, dammit.  My sporadic postings here couldn’t compete.  So, I’m still on Twitter (as KarmaCat, if you want to stalk me), but on a very infrequent basis.  The usual earth-shattering stuff, like today the strap on my sandal broke.  My favorite work sandals.  At work.  I’m handy, though, and you can hardly see the two staples now holding the strap together.  Totally ghetto.  And a little bit painful, as the strap is now tighter.  Fortunately, I have no shortage of black sandals.  But these were my favorites.  (whines a little)  Despite the aforesaid stash of black sandals, I do foresee an imminent shoe shopping excursion.  For some new favorite black work sandals.  And whatever else I like.  Screw the recession.  I just won’t drive far.

Really, I’ll get over it.

RADIOHEAD

AUGUST 13.  I GOT MY TICKETS!!!

The band announced some of its 2008 tour dates, stopping short of announcing a date and venue for its so-called “Boston” appearance.  There were rumors they would play Fenway.  I hoped it wasn’t true, because there was no way I wanted to deal with that traffic nightmare and all those people.  I checked the band’s site every few days.  Finally, there it was.  On a Wednesday, I learned that tickets would go on sale that coming Saturday for the Tweeter Center in Mansfield, August 13.  TOO FUCKING AWESOME, HAPPY DANCE IN THE OFFICE!  Yeah, baby.

August 13, exactly five years since I last saw Radiohead.  Same venue, too.  Read about it here.

The night before tickets went on sale, I did my usual preparation before going to bed:  multiple alarms set, computer ready, credit card ready.

Damn, those tickets sold fast!  I mean, I know Radiohead has a massive, loyal fan base, but geez.  I was hoping for something along the lines of last year’s 19th row seats for Tool.  No such luck.  Section 7, the upper tier of the lower pavilion.  Considering how quickly it sold out, I guess I was lucky, after all.

Following my ticket purchase, I then readied and headed out for…

LUNCH WITH THE BLUESLEEPY FAMILY

It’s official.  I’m a “lovely lady.”  Haha.  Read it here.

What BlueSleepy was kind enough to omit was that hometown girl decided to go into the city a different way with the hopes of avoiding the usual parking nightmare.  Didn’t work out so well, and I wound up being about an hour late.  For what should have been a 40-minute drive, max.  Way to go.

Okay, simply put, the BlueSleepys are nicest, friendliest family EVER.  I had the advantage of knowing who I was looking for and instantly recognized Kurt waiting (patiently) at the restaurant entrance.  (I had forgotten that they had no idea what I looked like.)  Grace was sweet and affectionate, not at all bashful as I had expected.  I thought maybe she would be leery of this new person; I guess because that’s how I was at her age.

Hell, even the Koolit, Karla, and Storm were friendly.  Was that in spite of or because of the scent of my three cats on my sandals?

I’m sure our nutty schedules will mesh once again, and we’ll get to hang some more.

SAD NEWS

P.J., my girl, my eldest kitty (age 17), has kidney disease.  So far, I have noticed only the weight loss (down to 6 pounds, from 9½ last year), no other symptoms or changes.  She eats, she drinks, she uses the litter box.  Her activity level is the same.  There is no real treatment, just some modifications to diet (less protein) to buy her some more time.  I swear I will not allow her to suffer.  At the first sign, I will let her go.  I know I could not bear to see her suffer.  I will be sad, of course, but 17 is good for a cat, and she’s had a good life.  We even got through her cancer scare of 2004 (damn false positive test results).

Given her extreme weight loss, I’m afraid she doesn’t have much time, poor girl.

And not to be a completely callous hardass, but I truly hope her passing does not conflict with that August 13 Radiohead concert.  That would extra suck.

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