19 posts tagged “projets d' art”
I am now officially closing out paperbacks, author's last name L, in my library project. This apparently translates to 474 books.
The problem is, this is the *easy* part. You see, there are just as many shelves of hardcovers as of paperbacks; the hardcovers are almost certainly out of alignment and there isn't a greatly clear separation between the hardcover-fiction and hardcover-non fiction. I expect the last portion of this project will be to drag all of it off of the shelves and create piles around the room: biographies, biology, chemistry, design, etymology, f*ckifino...
My original goal of having this done by (gulp) next week is not going to happen. Fortunately I've changed tactics: instead of unloading a third of a shelf onto my dining table, I'm doing small bits at time and marking my start/stop with two massive marble bookends my parents brought back from South America in the late 60's. These things probably weigh five pounds each and depict some angry, decorated mo fos, so they fit right in in my library which seems heavily skewed to murder mystery and science fiction.
I'm beginning to wonder if Goodreads will actually be able to use this file, and am considering uploading this first batch as a test. But what happens if it doesn't recognize it? Do I keep logging ISBNs in a hope of a work-around, or do I get significantly lazier...
Having finished the male person's window dressing I suddenly found myself without a project... for about five seconds. Friday night I came home and instead of doing what rational people would do (er... relax?) I reorganized my fabric storage and my paperwork and went for a run, and then on Saturday morning I vacuumed out the fireplace and cleaned the floors and hosted a dinner. On Sunday I ran and did errands and started to catalog my library.
Now, I have a library catalog in Excel, but it only includes little things like author's first name, last name, title of book, year published, etc. It does not include the ISBN number, which I need if I'm going to upload to Goodreads. For some reason this is a necessity for me, so I launched that project yesterday.
I took down books in stacks of five and filled up my dining room table. Then I picked up each one and logged it into Excel, sorted it by author's last name (my sorting had got way off in my favorite authors), dusted it, and returned it to the shelf. From logging to returning to shelf for 100 books took about an hour. One hundred books takes up 1/3 of one shelf. I have 7 shelves.
This...should keep me busy for a while.
Every time I go to my folk's house I come back with more than I need, but as much as I want. Usually it's food, and then advice.
Last night I arrived at my mom's house in Rochester, where she immediately produced a salad, bread, broccoli, macaroni & cheese, and meatballs. And about 20 litres of wine. The C was asleep when we arrived so we tucked him in, then I tucked in, then spent the next 3 hours reminiscing about family that I had never met, or had met only once or twice.
I know very little about my extended family, as it turns out. And having been a couple of glasses of wine in, I wasn't exactly in note-taking mode. But I not only came home today with leftovers of meatballs & macaroni & cheese, but a new project. I'm going to research my family history, starting with interviewing of its oldest members. This also means I will likely attempt to contact family members who have remained blessedly distant and reluctant to converse.
This is akin to my son informing his grandmother that smoking is dangerous. I have been telling her this since I was his age, her husband (my loving stepfather, who I call dad) has done the same. If there was something we could pay or juryrigg to make her stop smoking we would, and she very sweetly told my son she knew it was dangerous and left the room (to go outside, to smoke, as she always does) before he could ask why she did it anyway.
I don't need the calories from the macaroni and cheese, I don't need another project; my mom doesn't need to smoke as much as she does. But we all overdo.
As part of my job shift of a month ago, I now manage projects -- many and varied -- as well as people (my regular crew of 4). It's fun and it's challenging and I am not kidding when I say I received an iPhone picture of a white board schematic as a spec for one of my projects. There is a bit of managing people that do not report to you in project management, I have discovered.
Naturally my professional life once again mirrors my personal life. Everywhere I look there seems to be a project, or two, or more likely five. I've also started looking at the "project prioritization" from six months ago and am wondering exactly what I was smoking, to think that I wanted a Chicken Coop (do I need any more dependents? no!) or new flooring (with a 6 year old, ADHD boy child). Yes, that project list is getting revised for a new economy.
Which is not to say I'm not getting things done; but I am delegating more and more. GH has put up 3 lights and painted ceilings and a library, installed a new receiver and will be running wires under my house. There is a rumor my brown bathroom will become purple. I've managed to get up on the roof (with my dad's help) and spread some moss-kill love, along with trimming some branches on nearby tree. I've got the C's IEP -- freshly signed by X and I last night -- with the help of a paralegal who had us transition C's time with a specialist to be In Class rather than Across the School. I've got an attorney wrapping up my revised will, a financial planner to meet with in 3 months, and I'm running the Whidbey Island Half Marathon on Sunday. I feel like I am getting *some* stuff done.
Other things are not getting done. I keep acquiring books on loan from people because to me books are crack and I will actually avoid chores and sewing for them. My idea of heaven is a big comfy easy chair, a glass of wine or tea (depending on time of day and stress level), and a good book. I may take a couple of weekday vacations during summer and sit outside and read all day.
But the acquisition of books continues. I received one from KayLee on loan about a month back (as yet unread) that is recommended based on its Heinlein-like qualities. I got 3 from Splandie and her husband when I went to their house last Wednesday, 2 out of 3 are read (and that third will be read with GH, it's Neil Gaiman/Terry Pratchett "Good Omens" which is laugh-out-loud funny). I also got one in Spanish (a translation from the original English) of "The Earth Abides", which is apocalyptic and I need to have read in two weeks. I envision sitting in bed with a Spanish Translation Dictionary at my side to look up the weird stuff, and potentially giving up 2 or 3 chapters in so I can return it on time.
I find myself constantly wondering if I'm ever going to feel like I'm getting everything *done*. Every time I get close to the end of a project where that was "going to be it", I've managed to acquire 2 or 3 others in its place. Maybe that's the way life goes; it keeps you busy if you let it.
In terms of project management, though, it's job security.
No, this is again not about That Which Shall Not Be Blogged. That should be Bloggable by March 10th, which is also a full moon, and that strikes me as circumstantially appropriate.
No, this is about fabric.
I love fabric. I love the smell of a good fabric shop. I love the feel of it, I love the variance of colors and patterns and weights and styles and my budget sometimes loves the variety of prices.
I may not do any more fabric projects, though, you see, until I finish off GH's window dressing and I learn to knit. I may not I may not I may not.
So when Kaylee and I (Kaylee looks like a taller Julia Roberts and is most likely better read) had a picnic lunch and then went to Quiltworks Northwest, I knew I was in trouble.
When we got there and discovered it had merged with Beads and Beyond, I again felt the trouble
When I found hand-dyed 100% wool fat quarters, I knew the trouble was with a capital T.
And when I discovered a series of perfectly sound fabrics that all contain my tennis-ball-green coloring in grown-up patterns that could be made into a smashing bed quilt, that T rhymed with B and that stands for Budget.
Oh. That.
It wasn't any sense of project precendence that kept me from purchasing 8 or 16 fat quarters -- at $3 each -- of fun and fanciful fabric. No, it was the fact that I've already blown through more than 50% of my spending budget for the week and I have a lil' thing called Teatro Zin Zanni to go to on Thursday.
Rest assured, though, I know what I'm going to go buy as soon as I am done with knitting projects 1 through 3!
First, yesterday was a tie for my second best Valentine's Day. I got doughnuts. I ran 8 miles at my best pace ever. I have a new color of paint in my library that required no work from me (thank you GH!) (yes, it is Orange). I had a relaxing morning with the male person. I went to Whole Foods and got out with a week's worth of groceries for $65, and I got to make macaroni and cheese for the C's last supper.
You see, today started his (our) elimination diet, as while I'm with him I'm going to follow it as much as possible. That means soy milk lattes, alternative flours, etc. (I figure when he's at his dads I can revert). Today I made Wheat, Dairy, and Chicken-Egg free pancakes.
Old Pancake Recipe:
1.5 c flour, 1.5 c milk, 2 eggs, 1tsp salt, 3tbsp sugar, 1tsp vanilla extract, 1.75tsp baking powder; mix thoroughly and cook on a hot griddle with butter to grease it.
New Pancake Recipe:
same volumes, except substitute 1 duck egg for 2 chicken eggs, substitute Bob's Red Mill Wheat/Gluten/Dairy/Egg free all purpose baking flour, substitute milk with vanilla Silk, substitute butter with a soybased butter alternative.
I know what you're thinking. Man, that sounds like it tastes gross! I was certain it was going to be a disaster. Having cooked before where there have been 1 or 2 substitutions and being able to tell the difference (unpleasantly, more often than not), this would be a travesty of justice, once metered out.
It wasn't. They taste *very* similar, if not even a little too sweet thanks to the silk having some sort of sweet taste of its own. The C pronounced them acceptable, but asked if next time we could put fruit in it (absolutely!).
Rounding out my pleasant surprises of the day: the C has had perfect manners all morning (asking to be excused from the table without reminder), self-started getting dressed, remembered we were going to a brunch at Greenie's and asked if he could bring a toy (not Star Wars, mom) all on his own. I also finally got a solid night's sleep in: the last 3 before it I was waking up in the middle of the night for 2-3 hours at a time.
I would extend the pleasant surprises to the scale, but I think that would be pushing it. Besides, I ate two pancakes already today.
Usually I look back on a year towards the end of December, but I start thinking about it much earlier than that. I awoke at 5am this morning (I did eventually get back to sleep for an hour) with my "annual review" going through my head. (Last night I went to an office function at a highfalutin' Golf Club and Bar to say goodbye to one of our own -- and mingle with the VP and above set. I chatted with the company president for about 10 minutes about Starbucks' recession proofness (or not). As a result of the chattage and minglage there was also some wineage and whenever I get more than 3 down in a night I wake up in the middle of the night or early morning and am unable to go to sleep for a bit because the brain turns on).
Again with digression!
This morning's year in review started with me wondering where I will fit in in my workplace in the coming year. As per usual our boss has grand ideas (and I do mean that) but he ascribes to the "bite off more than you can chew" philosophy of life, which leaves me with some apprehension on what bits I will be spitting out during the course of 2009. I think I've done okay, work-wise, in 2008. Not so utterly awesome that I feel at all confident in asking for a Director position -- even though I'm my boss' only direct report that ISN'T one --but hopefully I will get recognized fiscally and all that. (The 2008 bonus money is in coffers and awaiting; the 2009 one is the one that is economically eschatological). 2009 will provide me the opportunity to grow as a manager and pick up some new skill sets and bulk up the resume. To that end I am spending quite a bit of time these last few days cleaning up a few of our processes (sometimes in a draconian fashion) and making some decisions that will make me unpopular in the short term. Oh well :)
I still haven't learned to drive a stick shift-- and I think I'll just put that off the list; it's been 3 years and I just don't see it happening.
I still haven't picked up a winter sport -- and I also will be removing this from the list. Unless I can count "knitting" as a winter sport, in which case that is certainly in store for January. Once I get my needlepoint done.
I haven't been good about saving (or as good as I'd like to be). That whole "ride the bus and not buy coffee" plan? Yeah that hasn't worked out so well. The riding the bus part works FINE, the fact that there's a Cafe Ladro right downstairs has been an unforeseen addiction. I am budgeting it but still... not as much in the brokerage account as I had wanted there to be. Then again, I figure we've got another 6-12 months of crappy prices before things start to really bounce back so that gives me time to save. I'll keep going to the library for movies (they bought All Creatures Great and Small on DVD! My reservation for it came in!) and clipping coupons and I don't see myself getting cable anytime soon.
I am no longer dieting. Oh, I'll pay attention to food intake and try to avoid the caffeine and all that, but I have discovered running allows me to eat things I like and still lose (or maintain) weight. Not gaining any weight over Thanksgiving was weird and cool.
I have resolved that the problems C has at school are something that we can help with, but they need to help with too. And that if I need to get a lawyer to get those problems sorted, I will. And that my responsibility is first to C, and then myself, and X needs to look after himself. The fallout from the Mexico trip debacle was such that I haven't had the daily (or twice or thrice daily) phonecalls eating up my time where he just wants to "chat"; this is good but again feels kinda weird.
Speaking of C and school, I have signed up through the PTSA to chair their annual Art Night. This should be good, because I am the least artistic person I know; but it has gained me a special invite to a special party for ONLY those parents chairing events. Well, nifty. I think I'll wear my Docs and Jeans to their little holiday party. I have also holiday-adopted two five-year-old girls, which will be fun to shop for.
I didn't get as much done on the house or on my projects this year, although I'm pretty happy with how the kilt and rehearsal dinner turned out, and the deck is still amazingly awesome. Next year hopefully I can get more done.
But no chickens. Really. I mean it.
I ran 13.1 miles today.
I did it at a pace of... 13.1 minutes per mile.
This is a coincidence, I am certain. There are no other 13.1's about today -- I didn't spend 13.1 minutes polishing a brass telescope (more than that). I didn't spend 13.1 dollars on parking (less than that). I didn't acquire 13.1 blisters (only 4, turns out). I may have eaten 13.1 brussels sprouts at my dad's house for dinner, but I'm not sure. I didn't launder 13.1 items of clothing (just one load, though), I haven't sent 13.1 emails for work (only 2, very well and carefully crafted, explaining why we can't get our 5th head). I acquired more than 13.1 emails on my personal account (22, actually, not including spam) which included the receipt for more that 13.1 dollars (actually 29 and change) for the fleece pullover and jeans at the old navy sale.
My son has more than 13.1 teeth but I got to see them all when he grinned as I handed him my "medal" -- a heavy metal disc on the end of a sea-green lanyard -- telling him I had run it thinking of him and that the medal was now his. I have drunk slightly less than 13.1 ounces of red wine thus far... but that will go past 13.1 by the end of the night. There are more than 13.1 days until the holidays and fewer than that before our next half-marathon kickoff brunch; I most likely kissed GH more than 13.1 times in the first 13.1 minutes I saw him post-race; the sort of support he showed me in being at the finish line is a first for me in personal romantic relationships. It has been more than 13.1 minutes since I put the C to bed but he is not asleep yet, as he slept significantly more than 13.1 minutes from the time I retrieved him from his father's house to the time I got him to my parent's house.
I have more than 13.1 grey hairs, which will be less once I have visited GJ salon sometime this week. I must be careful though, because I want to do that and a massage, but I don't want my spending money balance to be less than 13.1 dollars when I finish (even by a factor of 10). McGuyver's newest kilt alteration -- a hidden-hole belt for the other side of his underapron -- used more than 13.1 minutes and 13.1 stitches. I decoupaged fewer than 13.1 egg cartons for Ms Lisa (6, to be exact) and have more than 13.1 ounces of smoked turkey stock made. I have to this point watched just under 13.1 episodes of Twin Peaks (first time) with GH.
I gained less than 13.1 pounds at Thanksgiving -- in fact, I gained nothing -- but am quite sure I ate more than 13.1 pounds of food that day (Kbear makes fantastic mashed potatoes... and then there was Cyn's gorgonzola broccoli... and smoooooooooked turkey...). I did more than 13.1 chores this weekend but had more than 13.1 minutes of personal me time.
I may have sang 13.1 songs on the run today, and it may have drove Ali crazy 13.1 times, but she only threatened me with running alone thrice.
There were significantly more than 13.1 runners out there. And my tolerance for crowds has not gone up by a factor of 13.1, or even 1.31.
If I run 4 half marathons every hear for 3.75years I will have run 13.1 half marathons.
Next one will be a faster time. Possibly 1.31 minutes faster.
I blog from my cube.
I asked for a cube, and I got it. The advantages to this are readily apparent to me: I can see how often my devs get randomized and micromanaged by the business analysts, and so I get to step in. I am more productive because I can rarely blog (there are people all around me, I do not need them to know about my sewing room). My anal retentive desk habits fit perfectly in cubicle world, where my cube is a bastion of white cleanliness.
That said, there are disadvantages to being in a swank new tower in downtown Bellevue. First off, getting here by metro transit was a lot more difficult than one would imagine. On day one, I arrived at my new park and ride (Redmond Bear Creek) which, according to metro transit, is not completely full by 9am. Metro transit is clearly using figures from 1999, because there wasn't a damned space available and several ersatz parking habits (like in fire lanes) were already present. So I elected to drive to work (not good, downtown Bellevue parking and all). Yesterday I decided to go to my old park and ride and deal with a connected route (e.g., 554 to Mercer Island, 550 back to Bellevue). My boss paid for a shiny wireless thingybob that lets me internets on the bus so hey I will use it.
Except as the 554 crawled up to the Mercer Island park and ride, the 550 was leaving it. There was supposed to be a 10 minute gap. Ergo, I arrived at the office 30 minutes later than intended. Today I had better luck, driving to Eastgate (12 miles away) and bussing from there. I think I have found my plan C.
However, there are other problems with swanky tower digs. We have a Cafe Ladro. Cafe Ladro makes SBUX look like McDonalds. Cafe Ladro is yummy. Cafe Ladro is a mere 11 floors away and they have yummy smelling food items, too. Budget buster, here we come.
For someone who forages out of vending machines, discovering that said vending machines are also 8 floors away, and that the gym area to go change is 11 floors away, is not optimal, either.
In other news, I finished cleaning out my basement this morning (donatables), moved the lovesac to the sewing (!) room, and coalesced some of my books. I think I'll save the book ISBN project for those 2 weeks of holiday time; I'm technically working from home for most of it and for an actual 3 days am on "holiday". But all this progress and moving and cleanliness wants me to start more projects, like painting the C's room or the library or changing out mouldings or ripping up floors. And since I'm being bad with the Ladro in the new digs, I really need to not.
Whee....
I got home this morning, and instead of relaxing like a normal person I started a cleaning frenzy. The sudden realization that today is Sunday and it's all I've got until Monday School/Work/Bus/Bleargh starts up hit me and that, coupled with the further knowledge that any sitting would sieze up my left knee (which hurts from this morning's run), started me on a neatness fit. When that was done I showered and dragged the small child with me to Trader Joe's (after bribing him with Sbux) and now we are watching the last half of Star Wars, Episode 6. I just got up to get a glass of water and I am limping; I think I'll grab some more advil.
I am also mentally listing out all of the stuff I'm going to donate in the next week.
My parents are moving their stuff this weekend, which means I lose a guest room (but gain a SEWING room), and a couple of bookcases. The bookcases will be replaced by Ikea.
You noticed I said SEWING, right, and not craft?
The day my H'ween cards were received, I got reports of a powdery like substance in the cards. Turns out the nifty glass-ball-like thingies I used to make it look like the cards had skull papers bolted to them became powder when run through whatever automated mailing system our local USPS uses. In short, the cards looked less cool than they did when they went out and significantly less cool than I had intended; my paper stuff never turns out the way I want it. I figured out why, too: I like to sew and stitch because there is a pattern and a plan, and any customization revolves around color or type of fabric. But a kilt is a kilt is a kilt, there is no "winging it". Papercrafts, on the other hand, tend to be much more creative. Me? I'm not so much on the "winging it" creativity.
So I'm donating my fairly sizeable stamp collection and accoutrements (and paper) to anyone who wants it. I'll stick with quilting and alterations and needlepoint and possibly knitting.
Alex didn't move my plants as requested, X left C's jacket and backpack at school Friday, and the rodents are back. This is the yin to the yang of 4 days of fun in Mexico (2 days of un-fun in Mexico thanks to Montezuma hitting GH in a very real and doctor-fixed way).
Next posts: The Story of La Princessa, A Tale of Two Choads, Amping Up For Legal Eagles, and Appliance Envy.