My mother is coming to visit this weekend. She'll be here on Friday afternoon and is leaving on Tuesday. I had planned on getting everything ready for her on Friday afternoon, but then I volunteered to teach Junior Achievement to a group of second graders. So... I have tonight and tomorrow to get everything ready.
The house is more or less cleaned up, which is good. However, we don't have a guest bed. Guest mattresses, yes, but no box springs. So that has been a bit of a concern. Not that my mother wouldn't sleep on the couch (and honestly, it's more comfortable than any mattress in the house), but nobody wants to say "I made my mom sleep on the couch".
So imagine my excitement (or don't, because I'm telling you about it) when I saw a twin bed set on Craigslist for $25. I'm a huge friend of Craigslist because it relies mainly on folks being honest and harkens (what a word) back to the days of barter. This is a very good deal for a bed, so I swooped in and grabbed it up.
When DH came home from work, we immediately set out to pick up the bed. I was at least smart enough to clean up the car before he got home. We put the address into the nav system and drove down to Highway 484. And drove. And drove. The roads were pretty familiar - until we hit dirt. And kept driving on dirt. This was serious off-roading. DH called the woman again who explained that she just moved in so she didn't really know the roads around her house, but she had a white trailer with red shutters (we passed no less than seven of these in a three mile strip). So we finally got to her house, where we both observed that she'd transposed the house number in her e-mail.
So we pulled the bed out of the house and stuck it in the car and headed out on our merry way. I tried to ignore that she had three cats in the house and four dogs outside yipping like mad to get back into the house as we were leaving. I could not, however, ignore the smell. The mattress smelled. Imagine age and wood smoke (or cigarette smoke) and must and age. Yup. Smelled.
The bright side to the next piece of the drive was that we happened to be near some folks who sell duck eggs, and we got 18 eggs for $2 bucks. Unbelievable deal. From there we had about a two mile drive to WalMart to grab a few items. I begged DH to drive to the back of the store to dump the mattress - because all we needed was the box spring(s), and I couldn't take the smell. I learned that WalMart has no dumpster - their compacter is attached to the back of the store. Go figure.
So we got our stuff, which always turns out being more stuff than the stuff that we went in for in the first place. So we come out and it's 8pm and almost dark and I beg DH to drive over to the gas station to dump the mattress. And he says no because there are too many lights. So I say go to the Denny's and dump it. And he says do you not see the lights? And I say yes I see the lights but who cares? And he says that he doesn't want to get arrested for dumping the mattress.
Ok. So we drive around to the back of Beall's dept store. And it's dark and DH is driving like 10 miles an hour scoping all around talking about all of the security cameras. And then he parks in a shadow and jumps out and hauls out the mattress and throws it BEHIND the dumpster (isn't that littering)? And as he does so a car drives by on a road by the dumpster. That was really funny. And as we leave I ask him if he took the tags off the mattress too, because if so they'll double his jail sentence.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I WON!
I won the chili contest. I will admit that I was pretty surprised. One person made a mole sauce as her base, another used corn and other concoctions... 9 contestants total. I came out on top with 4 whoppin votes. Which is not that many, considering there were like 25 people in the room. But a few of them didn't vote (including myself - because if I had I would have had 5 votes. I'm not afraid to vote for myself. It was good food).
So what they didn't tell us before this whole thing started was that we have to take our ingredients to the site and make the chili there. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I don't cook well under pressure and I don't want all these people coming up asking how things are going. It might be fun, though. And if I win? WOO HOO! You'll never hear the end of it.
So what they didn't tell us before this whole thing started was that we have to take our ingredients to the site and make the chili there. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I don't cook well under pressure and I don't want all these people coming up asking how things are going. It might be fun, though. And if I win? WOO HOO! You'll never hear the end of it.
Chili, Part II (subtitle: Hell hath no fury)
I make darn good chili. I honestly think that this stuff could win. It feels good in the mouth - the different meats give it texture and flavor, and you can taste the "southwest" - cumin, cilantro, oregano. Then, you swallow, and BAM! The heat rises fast and urgent in the back of the throat, sits for a minute, and then gently fades. It rules.
The problem is that I didn't measure most of the herbs. I just kind of... put them in. So I'll need to remember what everything looked like should I need to make it once again for the final competition (for Junior Achievement).
The picture is slightly deceiving. I did not make the chili in the slow cooker. It's only being used as a warming carafe until this afternoon. Although, undoubtedly, the chili will taste better then since it's had all morning to meld.
Recipe:
Chop 1 and a 1/2 red onions and 1 head of garlic very fine. Set aside.
Brown 8 oz. of medium-heat pork sausage in 2 Tbl. corn oil in a large saute pan(I used one with straight edges). Drain and set aside.
Split 3 lb. of stew meat into 1/3 and 2/3. Cut 1/3 into small, bite size pieces. Grind the other until almost hamburger, removing any large fatty or gristle pieces (I used my food processor for this). Brown all meat in 2 Tbl corn oil. Drain and set aside.
Finely chop 2 strips of thick cut bacon and cook in same skillet until brown. Remove but reserve grease in the pan. Add in onion and garlic, stirring frequently until onions are cooked through. Move onion/garlic mixture into your chili pot.
Deglaze your pan with Patron. Do not partake if you are making the chili before 12pm.
Process bacon until crumbled. Add all meats into the chili pot. Add in one box of beef broth (Swanson's low-sodium), one large can of tomato sauce and one large can of pureed tomatoes (yes, there is a difference). Stir and bring to a boil.
Using your food processor with blade, chop finely 2 jalapeno and 2 arbol peppers, with seeds. Keep your hands and eyes away from the finished product. Add to chili pot and reduce the chili to a simmer for about an hour.
Tip: when you are ready for the next step, pull the lid off toward you so that you shield your face from both the steam and the "heat".
Add 3 heaping tablespoons of cumin; 2 tablespoons of dried cilantro; 2 tablespoons of dried oregano, 2 tablespoons of chili powder, and a heavy dash of red pepper flakes. Stir in thoroughly. Insert three bay leaves around the pot, replace the lid, and simmer for at least 1/2 hour more.
Remove the lid and add 2 Tablespoons of brown sugar and the juice of one lime. Salt to taste.
Chili, Part I
I promise you that this will not become a food blog. There are many excellent food blogs (read: people who do nothing but cook, eat and type) out there. I don't cook enough to be one of those people. Honestly, we eat Chef B at least 3 days a week.
Today, however, is the chili contest at work. Woo Hoo! I love chili. Well, at least, I love my mother's version of chili. When I was a child, my sisters and I got to eat whatever we wanted on our birthdays. It was the one day a year that we got to pick the meal. My middle sister always picked lasagna (what she considers lasagna; she hates ricotta cheese). My youngest sister picked hot dogs and macaroni cheese or pizza. She still picks it, actually, nearly every day.
I, on the other hand, had a much more refined palate. Corn dogs and chili. Yep, you read it right. I LOVE corn dogs. Don't ask me why, but I've never been a fan of the white bun. Fair corn dogs are the best because the cornbread is nice and crispy and the dog is nice a steamy. When I was a kid, I'd squirt ketchup on my plate in a big pile and then I'd put mustard on top and mix it around like I was Degas. Now, I eat them plain.
I don't have my mother's recipe for chili. I know that she used tomato sauce that she canned during the summer, as well as kidney beans and meat and a few other goodies. I hated canning season, and for the longest time, tomatoes: the kitchen always smelled like a tomato exploded (and, if the burner was left too high, it usually had). My aunt would give us a bushel of tomatoes and my mother would blanch them and peel them and then pulverize them through her old-fashioned, hand-operated meat grinder. That was the fun part: watching the big, juicy tomatoes go in and a mess of seeds and juice and tomato meat come out. Mom made spaghetti sauce and tomato sauce (there may not have been a difference) and salsa, and we ate it all throughout the winter in various forms. One year she burned the spaghetti sauce . And we at it all throughout the winter in various forms. That was a bad winter.
So now it is 4:51am EST and I am without my mother's chili recipe. Which may not be a bad thing since this is supposed to be "professional chili" without beans (do real people eat chili without beans, seriously?). I've scoured the internet for decent chili recipes and then manipulated them to be my own, based on the ingredients that I can work with and have available (we are shopping at Winn Dixie, not Fresh Market).
Part I is complete and simmering on the stove for a couple of hours. Once it has simmered I'll add in the rest of the ingredients. At least, that is the plan. If it turns out good you can have the recipe.
Today, however, is the chili contest at work. Woo Hoo! I love chili. Well, at least, I love my mother's version of chili. When I was a child, my sisters and I got to eat whatever we wanted on our birthdays. It was the one day a year that we got to pick the meal. My middle sister always picked lasagna (what she considers lasagna; she hates ricotta cheese). My youngest sister picked hot dogs and macaroni cheese or pizza. She still picks it, actually, nearly every day.
I, on the other hand, had a much more refined palate. Corn dogs and chili. Yep, you read it right. I LOVE corn dogs. Don't ask me why, but I've never been a fan of the white bun. Fair corn dogs are the best because the cornbread is nice and crispy and the dog is nice a steamy. When I was a kid, I'd squirt ketchup on my plate in a big pile and then I'd put mustard on top and mix it around like I was Degas. Now, I eat them plain.
I don't have my mother's recipe for chili. I know that she used tomato sauce that she canned during the summer, as well as kidney beans and meat and a few other goodies. I hated canning season, and for the longest time, tomatoes: the kitchen always smelled like a tomato exploded (and, if the burner was left too high, it usually had). My aunt would give us a bushel of tomatoes and my mother would blanch them and peel them and then pulverize them through her old-fashioned, hand-operated meat grinder. That was the fun part: watching the big, juicy tomatoes go in and a mess of seeds and juice and tomato meat come out. Mom made spaghetti sauce and tomato sauce (there may not have been a difference) and salsa, and we ate it all throughout the winter in various forms. One year she burned the spaghetti sauce . And we at it all throughout the winter in various forms. That was a bad winter.
So now it is 4:51am EST and I am without my mother's chili recipe. Which may not be a bad thing since this is supposed to be "professional chili" without beans (do real people eat chili without beans, seriously?). I've scoured the internet for decent chili recipes and then manipulated them to be my own, based on the ingredients that I can work with and have available (we are shopping at Winn Dixie, not Fresh Market).
Part I is complete and simmering on the stove for a couple of hours. Once it has simmered I'll add in the rest of the ingredients. At least, that is the plan. If it turns out good you can have the recipe.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Mobile Tiramisu, On Making
Background: DH is determined to get me on the motorcycle. Alone. Driving. This is kind of scary, since my leg is barely strong enough to keep me upright, let alone upright on a 1100cc engine (it's a beasty). I was successful last week driving from the mailbox to the stop sign - about 100 feet - but then konked the battery because I kept trying to start it in second gear. The next night I panicked and the bike fell over. After that, DH decided I needed to learn how to drive a stick shift to "get a feel for the clutch" before getting back on the bike. Do we own a manual shift vehicle? No. So he calls his mother and asks if we can use their truck. And then she invites us to dinner. Wanting neither to have my husband nor his mother to be my Driver's Ed teachers, I of course suggested that we will bring dessert.
Saturday Night: My high school reunion was last night, but my two best friends from high school and I decided to have an un-reunion instead, and stayed up past midnight chatting and reminiscing and watching Food Network together. Awesome.
Sunday Morning: We wake up at a leisurely 9ish am and begin to get ready. Five minutes before we are out the door, I realize I didn't make chocolate cake like I'd planned. So, I grabbed a few items and we headed out the door.
We stop at Publix and pick up a few additional items. Plus I got a little sieve and a spatula because I've wanted both for some time and this was the perfect opportunity. I begged DH since "I had to have them to make this dessert".
DH stopped to get his cup of coffee, and bought me a cup as well. Black, no sugar.
I put as many ladyfingers as would fit in the container, and poured coffee all over them. And myself. It burned my leg.
After that, I relaxed until we got about 20 minutes from his mother's house. Then, I took the ladyfingers out of the container and put them on the serving tray.
I dumped the Marscapone cheese (both tubs) and a mound of powdered sugar into the mixing bowl. I used the whip (which was not the right kind but it's the only one I own) to mix it together. If I'd be thinking, I would have added a bit of cinnamon at this point, but I was kind of panicking since we were getting close to her house and DH kept swerving while he tried to watch me.
The next part looks much trickier than it appears in the pictures. DH held the bowl with one hand and drove with the other. (For those of you playing along, please don't comment on how dangerous this was. I know, I was there.) I spread the mixture on the lady fingers. Then, we put another group of fingers in coffee, put them on top of the first layer, and then added the second layer of cheese mixture. At this point, I had cheese and powdered sugar on the seat, the center console, my shirt, my pants, etc. I used the cocoa and dusted the top. What you don't see is us stopping at Walgreen's to get me another shirt to wear and some cleaning wipes. I hid the evidence of the auto-kitchenry while DH was paying for our last minute goods.
And that is how to make mobile tiramisu. And yes, I did more or less learn how to drive a stick shift. I drove all around the Volusia County Fairgrounds and then drove the truck back to the house. DH only almost had a heart attack once. And yes, the tiramisu was pretty good. And now, only you know our secret.
Saturday Night: My high school reunion was last night, but my two best friends from high school and I decided to have an un-reunion instead, and stayed up past midnight chatting and reminiscing and watching Food Network together. Awesome.
Sunday Morning: We wake up at a leisurely 9ish am and begin to get ready. Five minutes before we are out the door, I realize I didn't make chocolate cake like I'd planned. So, I grabbed a few items and we headed out the door.
We stop at Publix and pick up a few additional items. Plus I got a little sieve and a spatula because I've wanted both for some time and this was the perfect opportunity. I begged DH since "I had to have them to make this dessert".
DH stopped to get his cup of coffee, and bought me a cup as well. Black, no sugar.
I put as many ladyfingers as would fit in the container, and poured coffee all over them. And myself. It burned my leg.
After that, I relaxed until we got about 20 minutes from his mother's house. Then, I took the ladyfingers out of the container and put them on the serving tray.
I dumped the Marscapone cheese (both tubs) and a mound of powdered sugar into the mixing bowl. I used the whip (which was not the right kind but it's the only one I own) to mix it together. If I'd be thinking, I would have added a bit of cinnamon at this point, but I was kind of panicking since we were getting close to her house and DH kept swerving while he tried to watch me.
The next part looks much trickier than it appears in the pictures. DH held the bowl with one hand and drove with the other. (For those of you playing along, please don't comment on how dangerous this was. I know, I was there.) I spread the mixture on the lady fingers. Then, we put another group of fingers in coffee, put them on top of the first layer, and then added the second layer of cheese mixture. At this point, I had cheese and powdered sugar on the seat, the center console, my shirt, my pants, etc. I used the cocoa and dusted the top. What you don't see is us stopping at Walgreen's to get me another shirt to wear and some cleaning wipes. I hid the evidence of the auto-kitchenry while DH was paying for our last minute goods.
And that is how to make mobile tiramisu. And yes, I did more or less learn how to drive a stick shift. I drove all around the Volusia County Fairgrounds and then drove the truck back to the house. DH only almost had a heart attack once. And yes, the tiramisu was pretty good. And now, only you know our secret.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
New Toys
So DHL is my new best friend because they delivered our new laptop and digital camera today. Granted, I was wearing a quilt because today was my token "lazy day", but the DHL guy didn't seem to mind.
I love new toys. I love adding and customizing and making things perfect. I love the way the keys sound when you touch them (before all of the crumbs and dust get in and soften things up). I love that it runs fast and starts fast. I love just trying stuff out. Vista is not so bad. So far.
I love new toys. I love adding and customizing and making things perfect. I love the way the keys sound when you touch them (before all of the crumbs and dust get in and soften things up). I love that it runs fast and starts fast. I love just trying stuff out. Vista is not so bad. So far.
What I Love About Facebook
It is, at first, a little scary. Will any of these people remember me? What kind of information can I put in this profile without getting fired? Do I add every picture I take at every event or just a choice few that show my best profile? Does having hundreds of friends make me look popular or desperate in an online environment? Do I really have to accept every 'Lil Green Plant or can I claim that my online nursery is full?
However, I've grown a bit fond of Facebook. I like seeing what folks are doing in their own parts of the universe. And since there's no way I'm leaving Florida to attend my 10 year high school reunion (crap, I'm old), I can at least keep up with a few of the folks from there. It's a pleasant distance, in a way - a shiny layer of friendliness and reminiscing without actually having to BE there. Awkward.
One of my favorite pastimes in Facebook - when I am tired of playing Spider Solitaire and it's too early for Second Life or cleaning my house or shopping or whatever else I can do in a day - is looking at other people's friends. Usually, I find someone I know and like and that is kind of a score for me. Other times, though - and this is even better - I find people that I know and I didn't like. Or, loathed. That happened today.... I came across a mortal enemy from college. Of course, it's been like 5 years since we parted ways, but that annoying little face shined up at me like a greasy zit on a big day. Ugh. But you know what I got to do? Nothing! I chose NOT to friend him. That's right. We're not friends! The POWER!
Of course, karma.... I have lots of pending friend requests. I'd like to think that folks just don't log in as much as I do. But maybe I'm the zit.
However, I've grown a bit fond of Facebook. I like seeing what folks are doing in their own parts of the universe. And since there's no way I'm leaving Florida to attend my 10 year high school reunion (crap, I'm old), I can at least keep up with a few of the folks from there. It's a pleasant distance, in a way - a shiny layer of friendliness and reminiscing without actually having to BE there. Awkward.
One of my favorite pastimes in Facebook - when I am tired of playing Spider Solitaire and it's too early for Second Life or cleaning my house or shopping or whatever else I can do in a day - is looking at other people's friends. Usually, I find someone I know and like and that is kind of a score for me. Other times, though - and this is even better - I find people that I know and I didn't like. Or, loathed. That happened today.... I came across a mortal enemy from college. Of course, it's been like 5 years since we parted ways, but that annoying little face shined up at me like a greasy zit on a big day. Ugh. But you know what I got to do? Nothing! I chose NOT to friend him. That's right. We're not friends! The POWER!
Of course, karma.... I have lots of pending friend requests. I'd like to think that folks just don't log in as much as I do. But maybe I'm the zit.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Greetings
So I'm cleaning up before our shindig tomorrow and I thought it would be wise to put our address labels and stamps in the container with my cards. I keep a small stash of thank you cards for when I feel polite.
The box looked somewhat overflowing, so I took everything out to sort through. It turns out that I need to buy stock in Hallmark. I have no less than 8 Mother's day cards, 1 Mother's Day card for my grandma (sorry Grandma), 3 birthday cards, 2 "congratulations you made an Urchin" cards, along with dozens of various thank you notecards. I don't even know two mothers who made urchins. Only one. And I don't think I have her address.
The box looked somewhat overflowing, so I took everything out to sort through. It turns out that I need to buy stock in Hallmark. I have no less than 8 Mother's day cards, 1 Mother's Day card for my grandma (sorry Grandma), 3 birthday cards, 2 "congratulations you made an Urchin" cards, along with dozens of various thank you notecards. I don't even know two mothers who made urchins. Only one. And I don't think I have her address.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Purse: a Sign of Coming of Age
Yesterday, I turned 28. Neither old nor young. I have aches and pains and zits. I am a cook and a maid and a librarian and an executive. A friend and a sister and a daughter (I hope a very good daughter). And a wife. And a lover, occasionally, when the aches and pains and zits don't get in the way.
I am a fan of birthdays. There were days and months and even a year or so that I didn't plan on having more of them. Life is precious and change is constant and we should all take a minimum of one day a year to celebrate us, a gift from God.
So how did I celebrate? Well, I got birthday cards, which I love. And DH bought me a new wallet because mine was all faded. I like the color of the new one better than the old one. And my friend Beth bought me a cookbook (I adore any cookbook that has stories connected to the recipes - because a recipe without a story is just a list of ingredients). And then DH took me out to dinner and to JC Penney for a new purse.
I've only recently become educated in the way of purses. They are just about as diverse as shoes in color, pattern, shape, construction, size, etc. A purse is not just a purse - it is a satchel, a tote, a hobo, a handbag. For ages I've carried a small purse because I don't like much fuss. I needed a wallet, a place for my cell phone, and a place for keys.
Now, though, I'm growing up. And I see the advantage of carrying a pen (or two because I always lose one), tissues, lipstick, pressed powder, a nail file, gum, tic tacs, hand sanitizer, etc. etc. I'm a walking canteen for the feminine persuasion (and you boys out there reading this.. you know darn well that you ask for stuff from us females all the time). In fact, DH and I had a fun time "filling" the new purse last night with various sundries.
I wonder if I'm carrying everything I need. Or, if I have too much. I tried to search the web this morning for "what women carry in purses" and came up with very few relevant results. Is there a definitive lists of must-haves? In addition to what I've listed above I also have a notebook, Tylenol and feminine sundries.
Your thoughts? Gentleman, what should we carry for you, since you don't like having bulky pockets?
I am a fan of birthdays. There were days and months and even a year or so that I didn't plan on having more of them. Life is precious and change is constant and we should all take a minimum of one day a year to celebrate us, a gift from God.
So how did I celebrate? Well, I got birthday cards, which I love. And DH bought me a new wallet because mine was all faded. I like the color of the new one better than the old one. And my friend Beth bought me a cookbook (I adore any cookbook that has stories connected to the recipes - because a recipe without a story is just a list of ingredients). And then DH took me out to dinner and to JC Penney for a new purse.
I've only recently become educated in the way of purses. They are just about as diverse as shoes in color, pattern, shape, construction, size, etc. A purse is not just a purse - it is a satchel, a tote, a hobo, a handbag. For ages I've carried a small purse because I don't like much fuss. I needed a wallet, a place for my cell phone, and a place for keys.
Now, though, I'm growing up. And I see the advantage of carrying a pen (or two because I always lose one), tissues, lipstick, pressed powder, a nail file, gum, tic tacs, hand sanitizer, etc. etc. I'm a walking canteen for the feminine persuasion (and you boys out there reading this.. you know darn well that you ask for stuff from us females all the time). In fact, DH and I had a fun time "filling" the new purse last night with various sundries.
I wonder if I'm carrying everything I need. Or, if I have too much. I tried to search the web this morning for "what women carry in purses" and came up with very few relevant results. Is there a definitive lists of must-haves? In addition to what I've listed above I also have a notebook, Tylenol and feminine sundries.
Your thoughts? Gentleman, what should we carry for you, since you don't like having bulky pockets?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Today, I Love Southwest
It's 5:00 am. No one should be up this early. It's amazing how the airport is waking up. The skycap was cheerful but a little sleepy; lights were just coming on in various rooms off of the main walkway; as I type, the coffee bar behind me is just beginning to smell like fresh roast.
I'm sort of fearful about this flight. I try to limit walking whenever possible, so the idea of walking across two airports (let alone the work that we are about to do over the next 3 days) is discomforting. However, once I got to the airport, the Southwest staff put my mind completely at ease. I was almost immediately put into a wheelchair, and a very nice young man (young.. my age.. if I am young) wheeled me through the entire airport, including security. He even helped me get my shoes off to go through the detector. He was friendly without being overly talkative. He wheeled me straight to the gate door. I can only pray that the service is comparable at Midway.
I'm sort of fearful about this flight. I try to limit walking whenever possible, so the idea of walking across two airports (let alone the work that we are about to do over the next 3 days) is discomforting. However, once I got to the airport, the Southwest staff put my mind completely at ease. I was almost immediately put into a wheelchair, and a very nice young man (young.. my age.. if I am young) wheeled me through the entire airport, including security. He even helped me get my shoes off to go through the detector. He was friendly without being overly talkative. He wheeled me straight to the gate door. I can only pray that the service is comparable at Midway.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
This Too Shall....
I'm having a difficult week. And this might be a difficult post. So difficult, in fact, that I am not naming until it's written, because the words that keep coming to my head really don't make sense, or are probably inappropriate.
I believe I'm somewhat of an empathic director. That is, when my librarians are upset or frustrated, I am also upset or frustrated. I try be a good manager. I try to offer solutions and suggestions and good sides to the issues and challenges that they are frustrating. But at the end of a call, or chat session, or face to face, I'm emotionally wrought and intellectually exhausted. If I were in their shoes, I may do things differently, but I would still be upset or frustrated by the situations that they face. Some are typical for any academic (well, really, ANY) library; others are not so typical, and could probably be resolved if the individuals with whom they work would communicate more or have greater respect for the library as place and service.
I'm challenged that I cannot solve most (and sometimes, any) of the challenges that are shared with me. Sometimes it is a matter of choice; the librarian has to work with his/her campus management team to work out campus issues. I would be out of place (and probably burn a bridge or two) if I tried to be an intermediary. Other times, even if I wanted to stick my nose in, it would do no good. Sometimes stuff just happens and it kind of sucks.
I try to take the issues that come up and spin them into system-level projects that, in time, may (hopefully) resolve many of the issues. The changes to the monthly stats collection and the way we provide Info Lit instruction are examples of that: serious issues have come up about campus communication of library metrics and classroom instruction/faculty collaboration. I expect that, in the long term, these projects may be solutions. However, many members of the team are either too busy with campus-level work, or too frustrated with the lack of immediate improvement, that I garner little participation. These leaves me with a two-fold issue; I can't solve the immediate issues, and I'm left with rather hefty projects that I complete with minimal buy-in. And minimal buy-in is the exact opposite of the way that I want to manage a team. We are not a democracy, but only individuals with an investment are concerned with the outcome. Ask anyone who's bought stocks in the last four years.
So, for those of you at home keeping score, I cannot solve the problems, I share my team's frustrations with campus-level challenges, I struggle with the major projects, and I feel like an inadequate manager due to my project completion style.
I'm not sure how much else I can say without placing myself in a potentially uncomfortable position. I guess that my final note is that this blog seems to be my only true outlet for sharing my (what I can only describe as) angst. I think it's unfortunate that any individual feels that they don't have the support from their supervisors to vent, or resolve concerns. I know that I'm not the only person who is struggling - one could read any number of blogs to swim through the same drudgery. I guess that - in not so recent weeks - I believe I was more of an idealist; I could look at a challenge ready with a feasible solution or a logical upside. Now... I'm disheartened, and upset.
There is a large spot of personal trials in this. I hurt my lower back/hip area several months ago, and by the end of June it was nearly impossible for me to walk or stand for longer than a few minutes at a time without intense pain. I'm in physical therapy, but I still struggle with standing or walking. For those still reading this post, you probably are thinking something about how sad or unfortunate it is, but please think on it a moment longer. Can you count up the number of times during a day that you stand still longer than 2-3 minutes? Walk more than 50 feet? Grocery shopping? Showering? Cleaning? Talking at the proverbial water cooler? Making Kool-Aid? Yup. Pretty much gone. It's left me with a feeling of laziness (I just cannot keep up with housework; I don't cook much because it requires too much standing) and inadequacy (again).
I don't know what's left.
I believe I'm somewhat of an empathic director. That is, when my librarians are upset or frustrated, I am also upset or frustrated. I try be a good manager. I try to offer solutions and suggestions and good sides to the issues and challenges that they are frustrating. But at the end of a call, or chat session, or face to face, I'm emotionally wrought and intellectually exhausted. If I were in their shoes, I may do things differently, but I would still be upset or frustrated by the situations that they face. Some are typical for any academic (well, really, ANY) library; others are not so typical, and could probably be resolved if the individuals with whom they work would communicate more or have greater respect for the library as place and service.
I'm challenged that I cannot solve most (and sometimes, any) of the challenges that are shared with me. Sometimes it is a matter of choice; the librarian has to work with his/her campus management team to work out campus issues. I would be out of place (and probably burn a bridge or two) if I tried to be an intermediary. Other times, even if I wanted to stick my nose in, it would do no good. Sometimes stuff just happens and it kind of sucks.
I try to take the issues that come up and spin them into system-level projects that, in time, may (hopefully) resolve many of the issues. The changes to the monthly stats collection and the way we provide Info Lit instruction are examples of that: serious issues have come up about campus communication of library metrics and classroom instruction/faculty collaboration. I expect that, in the long term, these projects may be solutions. However, many members of the team are either too busy with campus-level work, or too frustrated with the lack of immediate improvement, that I garner little participation. These leaves me with a two-fold issue; I can't solve the immediate issues, and I'm left with rather hefty projects that I complete with minimal buy-in. And minimal buy-in is the exact opposite of the way that I want to manage a team. We are not a democracy, but only individuals with an investment are concerned with the outcome. Ask anyone who's bought stocks in the last four years.
So, for those of you at home keeping score, I cannot solve the problems, I share my team's frustrations with campus-level challenges, I struggle with the major projects, and I feel like an inadequate manager due to my project completion style.
I'm not sure how much else I can say without placing myself in a potentially uncomfortable position. I guess that my final note is that this blog seems to be my only true outlet for sharing my (what I can only describe as) angst. I think it's unfortunate that any individual feels that they don't have the support from their supervisors to vent, or resolve concerns. I know that I'm not the only person who is struggling - one could read any number of blogs to swim through the same drudgery. I guess that - in not so recent weeks - I believe I was more of an idealist; I could look at a challenge ready with a feasible solution or a logical upside. Now... I'm disheartened, and upset.
There is a large spot of personal trials in this. I hurt my lower back/hip area several months ago, and by the end of June it was nearly impossible for me to walk or stand for longer than a few minutes at a time without intense pain. I'm in physical therapy, but I still struggle with standing or walking. For those still reading this post, you probably are thinking something about how sad or unfortunate it is, but please think on it a moment longer. Can you count up the number of times during a day that you stand still longer than 2-3 minutes? Walk more than 50 feet? Grocery shopping? Showering? Cleaning? Talking at the proverbial water cooler? Making Kool-Aid? Yup. Pretty much gone. It's left me with a feeling of laziness (I just cannot keep up with housework; I don't cook much because it requires too much standing) and inadequacy (again).
I don't know what's left.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Kimono Dreams
There is something blissful about a kimono. Soft, peaceful, quiet, like a nice mid-afternoon dream. Silky and smooth. Even the darkest threads feel creamy.
I want a day like this. I want a kimono day.
Kimono and Hair by Orchid Dreams.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Saturday - Really?
3:30am: wake up to the sound of rain. My half-hazed head thinks that Fay made it into my bedroom; but no. My husband left the garage door open to listen for the rain to lighten up before leaving for work. I suggest that I'll take him to work. He says no. I silently say "thank God" and trudge back to bed.
4:00am: as I'm nodding off, realize I have an increasingly painful headache.
9:30am: wake up with a full-blown migraine. Take 4 Aleve and crawl back into bed with the laptop. Avoid kitten claws while logging into Second Life.
11:00am: make my first pass at cleaning the kitchen. End up moving around all of the silverware/utensil drawers and only putting away the top shelf of the dishwasher.
12:00pm: realize I've spent most of the day buying artificial shoes, hair and clothes for an avatar in an artificial world using real money. Dismiss my concerns since my avatar looks darn good.
1:20pm: Hubby comes home earlier than expected. Nothing is done. Oops.
2:00pm: Naptime.
4:30pm: Wake up from a deep sleep and thoroughly weird dreams. Grateful to be awake. Until I realize the house is still dirty.
5:00pm: Lose my first game of darts to hubby.
6:00pm: Good dinner. Steak and french fries.
6:30pm: Lose my second game of darts to hubby.
7:00pm: Take a nightmare motorcycle ride. No helmet, bugs hitting me left and right. Never underestimate the pain velocity of suicidal bugs.
7:30pm: Search unsuccessfully for the zip drive containing my database project. Why do I always lose the large gig drives?
9:15pm-ish: Desperately seek out a ravishing fairy costume for the ALA party in SL. I look good.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Eboku Nightfire Fashion Gallery, Part I
Yes, Eboku is fabulous.
Outfit: Liberte Fashion
Shoes: Lassitude & Ennui
Jewelry: Swallowtail
Hair: Mystikal Hair Designs
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Cereal Offenders
It could be because I'm just hungry.... or because we have so much of it that it's practically pouring out of the pantry... but I can't stop thinking that the people we work with sometimes are very much like cereal:
The Cheerio: Happy to be at work. Happy to be working. Happy to be annoying everyone with my happiness.
The Rice Krispie: Perfunctory. Does exactly what needs to be done with an attitude of intolerance. Very efficient.
The Captain Crunch: One strangely dressed manager to lead them all.
The Corn Flake: I don't really know what I'm doing. I'll sit here and play solitaire. Wait, how do I open solitaire again?
Any other suggestions?
The Cheerio: Happy to be at work. Happy to be working. Happy to be annoying everyone with my happiness.
The Rice Krispie: Perfunctory. Does exactly what needs to be done with an attitude of intolerance. Very efficient.
The Captain Crunch: One strangely dressed manager to lead them all.
The Corn Flake: I don't really know what I'm doing. I'll sit here and play solitaire. Wait, how do I open solitaire again?
Any other suggestions?
Monday, August 18, 2008
Peeling It Off
When I was a kid (or, two weeks ago), I loved putting school glue all over my hands and letting it dry and peeling it off. I know this is borderline mental, but hear me out: first, it was an excellent waste of what always seemed to be an excessive amount of glue in the house; second, I could do nothing but wait while the glue dried (Lord forbid I touch anything); third, I just love the feeling of that thick skin coming off my palms and fingers, letting my skin breathe like it's brand new.
I guess grownups have their own methods of peeling. In Florida, it's called the "absence of suntan lotion". Hubby and I also experienced this recently. He decided not to put lotion on; I got every part that I could reach, which does not include the center of my back (I swear I used to be more flexible). This week, though, we both are experiencing the adult version of peeling - the ugly gross skin coming off at embarrassing moments, like we have some kind of body dandruff.
The moral of the story: I want to peel it off. The day, the week, the month. It was partially good - just like old skin is partially good. But so is that glue that just sticks and oozes and makes us wait for the clean, refreshing, new skin.
Peel it off.
I guess grownups have their own methods of peeling. In Florida, it's called the "absence of suntan lotion". Hubby and I also experienced this recently. He decided not to put lotion on; I got every part that I could reach, which does not include the center of my back (I swear I used to be more flexible). This week, though, we both are experiencing the adult version of peeling - the ugly gross skin coming off at embarrassing moments, like we have some kind of body dandruff.
The moral of the story: I want to peel it off. The day, the week, the month. It was partially good - just like old skin is partially good. But so is that glue that just sticks and oozes and makes us wait for the clean, refreshing, new skin.
Peel it off.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Transparent Post-Its
Boys and girls, this is the schizzle.
I'm a fan of the clean book. Something that I highlighted 5 years ago may no longer be relevant now (a love poem, for example - although it is. Relevant, I mean).
Librarians, buy 'em by the qua-dozen and keep them in on every table in the library. No more hours spent erasing/whiting-out stupid-patron-marks in books that they don't own.
Thanks to Unclutterer for this idea and many others that I've wasted time on tonight when I should be packing.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Things I Now Know
1. It's been quite some time since I've posted. I know. I've been busy. I appreciate your patience as I attempt to re-order my life.
2. Moving sucks. Not the actual getting-to-the-destination part; I expect that will be lovely. But the actual process of packing-boxes, sorting-through-crap - sucks.
3. I own far too many unmentionables. At last count, over 25 pair. Why? At most, one might need 15 pair. 21, perhaps, if you are stranded on a non-nude beach without a laundromat for three weeks. Because, after three weeks, would it really matter?
4. On the bright side, I can once again (presuming I've even worn these before) add some variety to the inner wardrobe.
5. Pepsi no longer tastes fantastic after the first four cans.
6. Pepsi does, however, keep you up long enough to finish wasting through an entire wardrobe.
7. Jeans are the devil. They never fit exactly right. They are expensive - so the fit from last year that doesn't work this year is no longer a fantastic investment. And who is going to re-sequin a pair of applique jeans that cost 50% more than the regular down-to-earth trods? Not me.
8. Hats with ear flaps only look good in Minnesota. I will need a straw hat after I move.
9. I keep shoes far too long. Less unmentionables, more shoes.
10. No woman picks a week's worth of outfits more than a week in advance. At least, not her own outfits. (No last minute changes, either - not when the box with the second picks is stuffed between a sofa and Honda Shadow in the back of a truck.)
11. We buy too much food. More than we'll ever eat. The question remains: should we buy less food and donate periodically to the food bank; or, should we buy as we always do and make one lump donation of goods periodically (as we are about to do in SPADES)?
12. It's difficult to focus on work during a move. I know I have projects to finish, but they are all taking a back seat. I wonder if that is bad.
2. Moving sucks. Not the actual getting-to-the-destination part; I expect that will be lovely. But the actual process of packing-boxes, sorting-through-crap - sucks.
3. I own far too many unmentionables. At last count, over 25 pair. Why? At most, one might need 15 pair. 21, perhaps, if you are stranded on a non-nude beach without a laundromat for three weeks. Because, after three weeks, would it really matter?
4. On the bright side, I can once again (presuming I've even worn these before) add some variety to the inner wardrobe.
5. Pepsi no longer tastes fantastic after the first four cans.
6. Pepsi does, however, keep you up long enough to finish wasting through an entire wardrobe.
7. Jeans are the devil. They never fit exactly right. They are expensive - so the fit from last year that doesn't work this year is no longer a fantastic investment. And who is going to re-sequin a pair of applique jeans that cost 50% more than the regular down-to-earth trods? Not me.
8. Hats with ear flaps only look good in Minnesota. I will need a straw hat after I move.
9. I keep shoes far too long. Less unmentionables, more shoes.
10. No woman picks a week's worth of outfits more than a week in advance. At least, not her own outfits. (No last minute changes, either - not when the box with the second picks is stuffed between a sofa and Honda Shadow in the back of a truck.)
11. We buy too much food. More than we'll ever eat. The question remains: should we buy less food and donate periodically to the food bank; or, should we buy as we always do and make one lump donation of goods periodically (as we are about to do in SPADES)?
12. It's difficult to focus on work during a move. I know I have projects to finish, but they are all taking a back seat. I wonder if that is bad.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Lessons from the PLA Exhibits
Alas, I am but an academic librarian and was not afforded the pleasure of attending the meetings & roundtables at PLA. However, since it WAS in Minneapolis and I happen to work very close to Minneapolis, we (a few of my librarians and I) were afforded exhibit passes. Take Friday off to romp among library vendors? Absolutely!
Mind you, this was not a coy ploy to squeeze office supplies from vendors. We had business with a few integrated library system vendors, as well as with a federated search engine vendor. We sat through nearly two hours of talks about the brilliance of products. Everything started to look the same....
I came out of the exhibits loaded with goodies (beyond pens, I had many catalogs in which I buried my nose most of the weekend) and some words to the wise. Please take note, lest ye find thee at a large library exhibits function in the future:
Mind you, this was not a coy ploy to squeeze office supplies from vendors. We had business with a few integrated library system vendors, as well as with a federated search engine vendor. We sat through nearly two hours of talks about the brilliance of products. Everything started to look the same....
I came out of the exhibits loaded with goodies (beyond pens, I had many catalogs in which I buried my nose most of the weekend) and some words to the wise. Please take note, lest ye find thee at a large library exhibits function in the future:
1. Wear comfortable shoes. I cannot stress this enough. If it means that you must wear jeans so that your tennis shoes don't look tacky, do it. No one is looking at feet in an exhibits hall, anyway.
2. Take a big backpack with comfortable straps or a roll-along bag. The bags that are given out by vendors are cheap, hold very little, and generally have tiny strings that hurt shoulders. I took my backpack with wheels and had plenty of room for my goods plus easy access to other items.
3. Take along drinks & snacks. The vending machines outside of the exhibit hall sold soda and water for $3.00 (egads). Most vendors have candy, but after time that gets old.
4. Don't forget your business cards. I probably gave out 50.
5. Address labels are also useful. Yes, you'll get a nice ID card with a magnetic strip to swipe at most vendor kiosks, but not all vendors use it. You may also want to sign up for give aways or mailing lists, and writing out an address takes FOREVER.
6. Be prepared to be warm. Hundreds of people will be occupying the same space, and you'll be on the move most of the time.
7. Plan ahead. Use the conference website to identify key vendors that you HAVE to see, vendors that you WANT to see, and vendors from which you can get loot. Please note that author signings are scheduled at specific times, in case you want to hit those.
8. Save vendor visits until the last day of the conference. Most will be dying to give away pens, etc. on that day. Most of the book vendors we visited were also giving away books so that they didn't have to pack them up.
9. If you travel to a conference, prepare enough room in your bags to take the stuff back with you. The line to Fed Ex was unbelievable. You may want to consider the costs of mailing a box vs. paying for an extra suitcase/extra weight.
10. Keep notes on how the vendors treat you. The Hoovers rep barely looked up when we stopped at the booth. We had to swipe our own cards for further information, and she offered no information on resources or products. (This attitude is pretty typical of the service we currently receive from them, and we won't be subscribing again next year).
11. Visit exhibits with a friend (if possible) so that you can discuss the products that you reviewed with someone. Over drinks.
12. Be prepared for a deluge of e-mail and mailings from the vendors with which you swiped your card. You really didn't think it was JUST for the IPod, did you?
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