They Oughtta Fix This

Yesterday, we had several lines of heavy thunderstorms roll through the area. The sky was ominous on the way to work.

No that's not worrying at all. Why do you ask? It took, roughly 15 minutes for the first line to rumble by the office. It got dark.

This photo doesn't convey just how dark it was. The streetlights and parking lot lights were on as the first line started to come through.

One of the only detriments to this building is that drainage behind us is not very good. The overnight storms had dumped quite a bit of water, water which doesn't drain well from the area behind the building.

This is looking northwest. The ramp in the foreground goes into our back door.

We jokingly refer to this as "the lake". You can see how dark it got because you can see into the packaging company across the lake. Normally, even when they have doors open, we can't see into the warehouse.

The water extends south to the entry into the delivery area. It's important to note where the water is, in relation to the cars parked back here. Gene and Matt will park up next to the stairs because their offices are close to our rear door. I didn't get it on camera but Gene came down here and decided, because he saw Matt and I on the back steps, to drive through the edge of the water. He lifted up a nice plume. He said there was no way he was driving in the middle of the water. It was, at 8 am, too deep for his car. We were all rueing the loss of my Jeep. I'd have driven through this, really fast. That was one thing I loved to do on the Jeep; drive through water puddles. I still do, but you could go into deeper water and get higher side plumes with the Jeep.

It rained; really, really, rained; hard, pounding rain; off and on all morning. My phone camera couldn't capture the rain. It was coming down so hard, you couldn't see across the street. It was a curtain of gray. We have a skylight in the main area and it sounded like someone was on the roof tossing rocks on the skylight, it was raining so hard. We would go into the main area and check the corners of the skylight. The company who did our remodel did a good job sealing the skylight. We have no leaks.

About noon, Gene looked out his office window which overlooks the parking lot. He'd been doing a lot of reports and hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to outside. It's raining. There's water in the back. Okay. We are all, pretty much, minding our own business. We hear, "Holy shit! You guys gotta come see this!" We go to the warehouse, where Gene opens the ramp door.

The water which had been right at the foot of the ramp this morning, is a "wee bit" deeper at noon. Yes, it was still raining, although not as hard.

The water laps at the top of the bottom step of the steps up to the back door.

We stood there and the boss, in a quite bemused tone of voice said, "You know, they really oughtta fix this." Meanwhile, Tara goes into the front closet and gets the Wellies. We have three pair of boots in the office available for people to use when you find yourself in soggy surroundings. She put on the boots and decided to walk across the back lot.

She's at what is probably the deepest point. The lot slopes from both buildings to the middle, where she's standing. The water came up to within one inch of the top of the boots. Notice the cars behind her and then scroll up to the same cars this morning. We got a little bit of water.

This morning, there was still water in the back lot. It had gone down to yesterday morning's levels. By noon, it had drained away, which was good because Matt needed to load his car for a trip to service equipment tomorrow. We don't have a basement so it doesn't impact us, other than being unable to pull a car into the warehouse to load. But companies north and south of us get larger deliveries. There is no way a delivery company could come back here. Semis wouldn't be affected at the warehouse, but you have to worry, just a bit, about your car when you see all this water.

It's supposed to be dry now until next week. Yeah, they really do need to fix this.

Beverage:  Scottish Breakfast Tea

Deb

Things I See

I had to inspect an apartment complex in May. They had this on the wall outside the gym.

It's a fish made of silver colored fish sculptures. It was so cool.

I see things like this and want them for my walls. It would probably be easy to obtain the fish and the bubbles, but I don't have the wall space for them. I never did get around to painting the bathroom. It's still on the "to do" list. Makes me kind of embarrassed to admit it's yet another project I haven't completed when I see awesome stuff like this.

Beverage:  Scottish Breakfast Tea

Deb

It Only Took Two Months

I have some interesting friends. One of them posted a silly horoscope to her Facebook page. I responded by writing something totally off the cuff. She challenged me to write the whole story to go with that sentence.

Immediately, work got crazy. I was traveling every week, sometimes three to four days out of that work week. In so doing, I figured out where the nearest Panera was to my travels.

I printed out the horoscope and pasted it into this journal I was going to use for the collection of quotes from the books I read. (I have abandoned that idea in favor of post-its because I don't want to stop, copy a quote, and read on. It breaks the rhythm. I have the post-its handy for ripping off a sheet and slapping it into the book where it marks the lines I liked.) When I had time to kill, Panera was great. I could get lunch and work on the story and they didn't mind. Around me, people were hooked up to the internet, doing whatever they needed to. I had my journal and my gel pens and I wrote and wrote and wrote.

I was very proud of myself when, after a couple weeks of this, I'd reached paged 23.

No, the journal pages are not numbered. I have to do that myself, but that simple task delivered a great feeling of accomplishment. How far in advance should I number them? Was 30 enough? No. Not even close. 50? I might be half-way through. I'm not sure. I settled on 100.

I wrote in various fragments of time; at the doctor's office at the end of May; at the office when burning CDs or processing data tied up my computer for long stretches. May was cold and damp and I felt the words struggle to flow through my pen onto the pages. Some days, I could barely manage a page. Other days, three and four pages of text seemed to sprint onto the lines. I went through one pack of gel pens and had to buy another.

And then life caught up and all these things I needed/wanted to do called to me and the journal was set aside for a time. I knew exactly how the story would end. I knew the characters. I knew, mostly, the dialog. It was getting it committed to the pages of the journal. I wasn't feeling inspired.

Then, last Saturday, a glorious day of moderate temperatures and warm sunshine, I got the deck into sitting mode.

All the plants are planted, although I need another marigold for one which didn't make it. The statuary is out. There is a table for a drink and supplies, and there is the comfort of flowers.

The geraniums, as I've said, are rather spindly and will be cut back in the next week. This space is inviting now. I don't feel like it needs more than the usual deadheading of flowers. I can sit out here and work on whatever project I have in front of me, be it a book, a cross-stitch, or a story. Of course, my flow gets interrupted by "Hamlet! Deck! Now!" He was so good but has since regressed, although he comes when I call. He's timid, as the girls are, so I probably could let him loose while I finished a chapter or a line of stitching, but I worry and that not good for concentration.

Anyway, Sunday, finally, after two months of off and on writing, I could write "The End".

It's 82 pages in the journal which might type up to 40 pages on 8.5 x 11 inch paper. I changed verb tenses in the last quarter of the story, preferring the ending tenses to the beginning. It made more sense. I'm probably the worst editor of my stuff. I agonize over punctuation placement and whether this word is exactly what I want to use. I didn't do much editing of the raw product but it was hard, when I had to go backwards a few pages to remember where the story was and where it needed to go. Oh gee. That's not the right wording there, and out comes the editor in me.

The next step is to type this up so my friend can read it. After that, I have no idea what I'll do with this, other than mark something complete and move on to the next idea. She mentioned, while driving in the rain one day, seeing a book, pages flapping in the wind, in the median of the road she was on. Did someone leave it on the top of their car and drive off? Or did they heave it out the window during a rainstorm, on purpose? If so, why would you do that to a book? She never specifies the size of the book. So many ideas.

This is a great victory for me. I got the deck set up for a summer of relaxation AND I finished something I'd started. On to the next project!

Beverage:  Water

Deb

Wonderful Wheels

I'm coming up on a year with the Malibu and I must say I have enjoyed having this car. I tolerate so much which, in reality, I shouldn't. One of those things was the deterioration, all around me, of the Jeep. I adored my Jeep; I really did. There is something deeply fun about driving a Jeep Wrangler; going pretty much anywhere and knowing you're reasonably safe to progress through bad weather. They also wear like cast iron, although, as they age, you need money to keep them afloat.

There was one thing I never did with the Jeep.

I never took it through a car wash. This was because it had a soft top and, when I first got it, car washes had not adopted  "touchless" technology. Those bristle things which descended from the ceiling and popped out from the sides, were designed to remove the grime in minimal passes. But with a soft top, they would shred the canvas fabric.

Even when washes went to those heavy canvas octopus-like brushes which seemed to slap the dirt off, I wasn't persuaded they wouldn't harm the top. So, I never went, even when washes went touchless, with high-powered soap and water dispensers, and heat blowers which would remove the feathers from a turkey. I always washed the Jeep by hand.

Now, the benefits of having someone else clean the grime off the Malibu are abundant. I can do a good job hand washing my car, but, invariably, I miss a spot and it mocks me until I can wash it. Touchless washes don't miss anything. Plus, getting the areas down by the door involve a level of bending which is uncomfortable now, with my RA. Let someone else clean the wheel wells.

Another thing I'm enjoying about the Malibu is the temperature display.

On Tuesday, I left the office, got into the car and viola, I know the air temperature around the Malibu. I also noticed I had rolled over a magic number when I pulled into the office. I didn't notice this until I was to go home. This is fortuitous. I can see exactly how many miles it is from the office to home.

When I got home, the temperature had dropped and it's 12 miles from my house to the office. It takes me from 20-30 minutes, depending upon traffic, to traverse those miles. Right now, there is road destruction in a number of locations so, even if I plan to get to the office early, I can be on-time or late, if the destruction is in my lanes. I know it will be very nice when they get it done. It's just enduring that time until it is done.

I've spent a lot of time in my car in the past 3.5 months. We've been slammed with work which has meant a great many day trips. I was coming back from Dubuque, Iowa, after one project and thought just how nice it was to put on cruise control and just drive, knowing my car is in excellent repair, even if it is 5 years old, and I have nothing to worry about. It makes driving 300 miles a joy, rather than a chore.

Beverage:  Earl Grey Tea

Deb

The Things I See; A Library's Goodies

Last fall, I had the joy of inspecting a fairly new library in the Albany Park neighborhood of Chicago. What could be more exciting? An English major in a library BEFORE it opens. I had to wander the stacks too because I had to look at the ceiling where the stacks were. I have an observation which was eye-opening to me.

Libraries in multi-cultural neighborhoods need to have books in the languages of their neighbors.

I feel like such a dork for not realizing that. Of course, I don't know which Asian language or languages this is, but there was a whole row of such books. It also made me realize that, although I knew it, lending libraries are global. If you speak Spanish, but your library doesn't carry Spanish-language books, the reach of a lending library means you can get books in your language. This is a head-to-desk realization.

When I was growing up, inter-library loan was a thing. Mainly, it was in the loaning of large print or Braille books. I knew people who would go to the local library and ask for the list of large print books. They had to wait awhile because these came from the big libraries or, in some cases, the university libraries, but they would arrive to our little library in Monona. I remember the librarian let me see one. Whoa! 18, 24, 28 point type. A 150 page book could balloon in page size to double that. You could kill small animals with the size of the book. But the librarian emphasized that people with failing eyesight should be allowed to read, too.

Libraries have had to remake themselves as the world goes digital. The days are long gone where you could wander the stacks of a library, finding treasures in the back; books which hadn't been checked out in 10 years. I loved to look through those, even if I didn't check them out. My local library has removed some of their stacks, replaced by an increase in the display area of periodicals (I'm not against that.), more music and movie offerings; and more classes. I have a cross-stitch club I go to every fourth Tuesday of the month, assuming I'm not traveling. There are more computers available for those without reliable access. But the large number of stacks, which I remember wandering in the 1980's, are gone. It's just the nature of a library nowadays. If I want something, they can get it via inter-library loan, but I do miss wandering and finding something I didn't know existed.

This library in Albany Park, was sparse from a browsing point of view. They are heavily focused into community programs. Being part of the Chicago Library system, there is no need to have a vast amount of paper materials in the building. Instant access in requesting books is provided. You can do it yourself from one of the terminals around the library. They have an outdoor reading area where you bring your own things or books you have checked out. It was quite inviting.

I have great fondness for the library I grew up with. That is probably as much due to the librarian who was very invested in getting kids and their parents to read. It was just assumed you went there. That libraries address the reading needs of their diverse communities should not have come as a surprise to me. I'm kind of ashamed it never occurred to me before I had to inspect one.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

A Promise of Better Things

I have been noticeably absent this space since early April. It's been a combination of things. I have not felt well. The warm spring days were followed by chilly and damp days. I don't do chilly and damp very well anymore. It settled into my joints and I found myself aching much more than usual. My rheumatologist agreed that this spring has been hard on people with joint problems.

Then, our work load quadrupled, which sounds like an exaggeration, but is not. I found myself doing day trips two, three and four days out of a week. I appreciate that fate or God or karma decided last year I needed a newer car because the drives to all these places was ever so much nicer when it was done in a car with adequate heat and windshield wipers, as well as cruise control and the ability to sip, not guzzle, gas.

This became something of a bad circle. I ached because of the wild swings in weather. I ached because of all the driving and walking. I couldn't get comfortable at night to fall asleep and stay asleep because I ached, which made me tired. Weekends have been something of a fog. I didn't have the stamina to complete a project so my house is littered with unfinished things. This made me sad and, let's face it, depressed, which contributes to the uneven sleeping. Everything accumulated making writing a chore. I just felt overwhelmed and unable to put thoughts to paper.

That being said, I've been working on a short story based on a writing prompt a friend gave me. She "double-dip dared" me to write a story around a silly Internet photo; a photo I had made an off-hand comment about. I know how the story ends. I just have to write the lines to that point. Now that the weather has moderated, it's inspiring to sit outside with my pen and write. I bought a journal to use for book quotes, but picked it up to use to tell this tale. It's probably a pedantic sort of tale, but I haven't done anything like this in years so it feels fresh and exciting.

I probably have 8 more hours of writing left to do. In true "Sagittarius mode", however, there are more shinies calling for my attention. That's what can overwhelm me and leave me feeling depressed. I love having projects to do, but completing them has always been a problem. The simple act of setting up the project is exhilarating to me. What do I want to do and what supplies will I need to accomplish this? But I get into the thing and have to set it aside because something else crops up, like the need to have clean underwear, and then I lose the drive to finish. It was extremely acute during April and, now, May. Then, I feel like I can't do anything and you see where this track goes. I'm ever so good at beating myself up.

The weather seems to have moderated now. I had a doctor visit last week where I poured out my frustrations and my rheumatologist was so understanding. She reminded me that living with RA means doing small tasks. "Just finish one thing and celebrate that; dishes, a load of laundry, pick up the living room so you don't see lots of piles." I got the oil changed and tires rotated. I spent 3 hours writing on the story; advancing the plot by leaps and bounds. I did a load of laundry and swept half of the floors. Just those things made me feel as if I could accomplish more.

Memorial Day weekend was a series of small victories which I'll detail below. Each step leads to another step which leads to a feeling of accomplishment. The business of business is still astonishingly hectic, but it appears, like the Tetris game, things are falling into place so I am not quite so overwhelmed. I still have to travel, but it's not in a rushing sort of way.

And then, as if to rubber stamp my sense of worth, I managed, for the first time in 3 months, to carve out time to go to cross-stitch club at the Wheaton Public Library. I haven't felt any inclination to do any stitching on the project since January because I've been coming back from somewhere on the day of the club. I stepped out of the house and headed to the car. There was a small rain shower going on. It wasn't much; more like the last bit of water was being shaken from the watering can. I got to the car and turned to slide in and saw this.

I do not remember when the last time was I saw a rainbow this brilliant. Look at the colors. You can see all of them; red, orange, yellow, green, indigo and violet. Excited, I quickly drove to the end of the drive, got out and aimed my ancient cell phone skyward.

Yes, please. I'll have a double helping of rainbow.

If you've followed me for some time you know I'm not a very God-y person anymore. I believe in an almighty, but I don't feel he pays too much attention to me; checking in on occasion, to see that I'm still hanging in there. Sometimes, he takes pity on me and things align, but most of the time, he smiles and moves on to someone with way more cares than I have. I don't want to make too much of a scientific occurrence, but I think this was nature's, karma's, "God's" way of telling me the storm has passed and, while things won't be smooth sailing, because, after all, it is raining, it won't be quite as bad as it has been these past 2 months. I've come through a choppy time and now there will be quieter seas ahead.

(On a strictly scientific note, I was quite surprised the rainbow was so vivid. We didn't get enough rain to wet the deck all over. It really was simply a sprinkle. Yet look at the colors, how clear and dramatic they are. Everything was at the right juncture to create this scene. Science is fascinating.)

So, dear reader, if you've progressed to the bottom of this post, I can't promise I will be as dedicated to this space as I was at the beginning of the year, but I have hundreds of photos I should blog about. It appears life is on the upswing. Things are, indeed, better. I have a double rainbow to prove it.

Beverage:  Earl Grey tea

Deb

The Things I See, part three

I'm just going to post this photo right here.

I realize what they were trying to do; impede cars from driving the wrong way on a one-way street, which is to my right; and to protect people crossing said busy street in front of me. There would be lots of pedestrians as there is a university across the street from these pylons.

Still, no one reviewed the final design and thought, "Ya know, this bears a not-so-similar profile to a piece of male anatomy. Maybe we should rethink this?"?

Ah yes. The things I see.

Beverage:  Orange Juice

Deb

Things I See, part two.

There is a sign on the northwest side of Chicago, near Albany Park.

I seem to remember a billboard campaign utilizing this opening line from Ayn Rand's novel, Atlas Shrugged. I have never read that particular book. Rand doesn't interest me. But this tattered billboard has me trying to remember the ad campaign.

It may also have been a reaction by someone with a political motive. Atlas Shrugged has been co-opted by a number of people and used as an example of anti-government writings. Protests against banking institutions; the Tea Party; and Congressman Ron Paul; have all used this phrase, or referenced it.

In my travels, I've seen a lot of vacant billboards along the highway. The churn rate for advertising along Interstates must be rather large. This area of Chicago, while slightly busy in the morning and at night, is not the place urging the protest of government would be effective. It's incredibly easy to miss seeing this. The other billboard you see just off center, also says, "Who is John Galt?" but because that billboard faces the sun, it's very weathered. I wonder who is paying for these or if that detail has been lost to the winds.

Who is John Galt indeed?

Beverage:  Orange Juice

Deb

Things I See

"Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's Party'!" 

--Robin Williams. 

Beverage:  Orange Juice

Deb

Name Dropped

I had to inspect a Seminary on the south side of Chicago. The building was over 100 years old; typical Chicago brick construction. It had always been apartments with warehousing on the lower floors. Old Chicago apartments have a distinctive design. Maybe it's true of all apartment buildings from that era; tiny rooms with small hallways. The seminary has retained quite a bit of the flavor of the building while modernizing it for priests. There is a communal dining area and a chapel with custom glass designs.

The chapel area was, before the seminary bought the building, an artist's studio. But the large space with the 2.5 story ceiling, was too much to keep up so he sold to the building owner and moved north. The priest who took me around to do the inspection said they rent the space to Russian Orthodox and non-denominational congregations for worship. They are pleased it's being used.

During the course of the inspection, the seminarian walking around with me was excited to talk about the next phase of his studies. He was going to Chile in June, for 3 months, but the 2nd week of March, he was going to Greenville, Mississippi, to help the order down there. They have, he said, a strong presence in that area of the country and all the seminarians spend time working there. I looked at him. "Greenville? I know Greenville." He registered surprise as I don't have a Southern accent, couldn't even fake one if I tried. "How do you know Greenville?" Well, the head of the English department where I went to college was a Franciscan sister originally from Greenville. "Wow. Small world," he said.

The priest with us now turns to me and asks, "Who was this sister? That's kind of specific because we're the only order down there. There isn't a convent." "Her name was Sister Thea Bowman. She started at a Sacred Heart school and joined the convent there. When she went to Viterbo for college, she joined the Franciscans, who, as you know, founded Viterbo." The priest stared at me. "You studied under Thea?" I did. She recruited me for the English department and got, then, Viterbo College, to offer me enough scholarship money that 75% of my college experience was paid for. He looked at me.

"I know Thea. Everyone in Sacred Heart knows Thea. Thea is held up as a paragon for activism. You knew her. I am singularly impressed." I have a pencil sketch of her hanging in my living room. She was the most amazing person I think I have ever met. I will never, in my entire life, be half the person she was.

"Madame, I knew you were a very interesting person when we shook hands. I am convinced of it now. I never had the pleasure of meeting Thea. To know she taught you gives me more respect for you."

I didn't know quite how to react to this. I don't know people I could drop into a sentence. One of the guys from the construction company building the hotel for which I needed to do this inspection, was dropping names left and right. "Well, when I got married, I couldn't have some of the Chicago Bears come to my wedding because my wife said they would upstage her." You know some of the Chicago Bears? "Oh yeah, I'm good friends with...", and then he rattles off 5 names from the 1985 Super Bowl team. He knows this person and that person from Chicago politics or Chicago celebrity.

I am always suspect of such people. Do they really know them as in, could they call these people up and ask them to come meet for lunch? Or, is it a way of getting something because we believe in the power of "Six Degrees of Separation" and we want to be associated, however minimally, with someone "famous". There's no reason you couldn't drop any celebrities name into a sentence as being an acquaintance even if the best you know them is from the Access Hollywood TV show. I have no way to prove you don't know them.

Thea sang at my wedding. I have a cassette tape of it and I sometimes think it would be wonderful to extract that part to have. I wouldn't know where to go to get that digitized. I would never have thought to bring up her name in any of the Catholic places I have been. It was a toss-away remark, made by a young man, excited to further his faith which allowed me to say, with much pride, "I knew Thea. I was taught by Thea." I carry her lessons. When I read Shakespeare's comedies with their sexual innuendo, I can hear her voice say, "Well, we're going to jump over those lines because you're Viterbo students and you won't get the joke." Of course that made us read and reread the lines looking for what was funny.

I also feel the priest was impressed with my skills to begin with. Tara and I kind of have that effect. We have been openly dismissed by men who think we can't possibly know what we're doing and then we do it and, um, yeah, about that dismissal. Father John didn't dismiss me. He said what I did was one of the most interesting jobs he'd seen. But the knowledge of having known Thea added a layer of competency. She gave a lot to her students. She still gives. Wish I could call her and tell her.

Beverage: Scottish Breakfast Tea

Deb

The Next Cross-Stitch

After finishing the wedding sampler, I went a good three months without cross-stitching. It was about reading and making good on my goal to read through all of Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. But the itch, so to speak, needed to be scratched. Picking out the next project also gave me a chance to organize the box in my closet.

I dragged out all the crafting books and pamphlets and dumped them on the living room floor.

I decided my next project would be to liven up the bathrooms at work. We have no art in the office, beyond what people have in their personal offices. I have art, my boss has art, but that's as far as it goes. In the women's bathroom, we have some knick knacks representing the beach. I decided I needed to do a beach cross-stitch. Finding something was going to be the adventure. Oh sure, I could have googled "beach cross-stitch" and come up with something, but why do that when I'm sitting on hundreds of patterns? Plus, the box needed to be organized and this was a prime reason to do so.

Viola.

The pattern on top is not the one I chose. It's cute, but I felt it was a bit too detailed for what I can do. My goal was to find a pattern which used full cross-stitches as opposed to one, like this beach scene, which uses half, quarter and three-quarter stitches. I'm not good at those and they frustrate me. If I'm to get this done with any speed, it must be something I'll enjoy doing.

I also discovered I need a bigger box. I still have magazines piled on top of the box in the closet. One of the issues is the floor space where the box is stored. A box which will hold all my cross-stitch or craft magazines probably will take up all of the floor space. I'm not sure that's entirely what I want. I have, however, decided not to renew a couple of the magazines I get. One was expensive, even with a discount and the other was veering into non-cross-stitch crafts more than when I subscribed to it. I think I will continue Just Cross-Stitch because that's all I want. As it's published 6 times a year, I'm not adding to the pile quite so quickly.

After a couple days of looking through everything, organizing and contemplating what I wanted to do, I decided on this pattern.

It's all full cross-stitches. The header, "Home is where the Beach is" will be removed. I might do "Life's a Beach" or I might just redo the cloud lines above the clothes line. There is also the ability to shorten the sides so there's no white space when the wording is removed.

For the guy's bathroom, I found this.

My office mates probably aren't going to care, but I really like our office. I like how we were allowed to personalize our spaces. This simple act makes going to work so much more enjoyable and I see this art as part of that. Plus, if you'll allow me to be a bit selfish, it leaves a bit of me behind. Our lease is for 7 years so we'll be here awhile. I can see this being our office until Mike leaves and that should be after I leave.

The fabric count was for 26-count linen with the cross-stitching done over two threads. I have never, ever been able to master that. I always work in 11-16-count. It's easier to see and I don't have to worry that I'm not stitching over two threads. But I had no idea then, how much cloth to buy. My local cross-stitch shop came to my rescue. When it's 22+ count fabric, halve the stitch size and use whatever fabric amount is closest. It's the same size. In my case, I'm using 14 count. In my head, it doesn't seem to  work, shouldn't it be double the amount listed? So far, it's working out just fine.

Ivory material was suggested, not white. I'll go with that, but I didn't have any ivory material in my stash. The shop said they aren't stocking much in the 11-18 count fabric. Stitchers have gravitated to the higher thread counts for more detailed images. That makes me sad. "You can find all sorts of 11-18 count online," the proprietor said. Well, yeah, but that's not the point. I want to shop local when I can. She had a piece of fabric which she thought I might like.

It's kind of tough to see the pattern on the fabric. It's a white with a faint sandy wave-like pattern. It's perfect for a beach pattern. With fabric in hand, over Labor Day weekend, I jumped in.

You can see the fabric pattern a bit better in the images.

Cross-stitching is the best thing to do on the deck, I tell you. I made great strides in September.

I would come home from work, grab the stitching and go out on the deck. An hour of stitching made the troubles of the day just melt away.

This represents three days in September. I'm much farther along with this than these photos show. I'll be posting more as I get to them. Lots of photos yet to blog about. The green stripey thing is a pair of men's swim trunks, in case you're wondering.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

So You Don't Have to, But It's Not Bad

Ah cravings. I'm pretty good at not giving in to cravings. While I can justify eating a whole bag of cookies or half a pie, unless the object of the craving is in the house or easily accessible, I'm not going out of my way or making a special trip to get it. Today, I forgot lunch. I thought about it when I was getting ready for work, but never made it up to come with me. As luck would have it, I had a Campbell's ready to heat soup and the last of the instant pudding in the desk drawer. (Must restock this weekend with a trip to the grocery.) Going out was not appealing so having soup and pudding in the desk drawer was very convenient. But what to make for supper.

It's one of those "I don't want to cook" weeks. I have gone through all my soup; all the instant flavored rice; all the freezer pasta I had left. I just did not feel like standing over the stove and swishing a spoon into something. I've finished off all the bread, cereal and peanut butter. I cleaned out the freezer on Wednesday, as I said I was going to do, and tossed stuff which just didn't look right. The grocery visit this weekend will be with an eye toward fresh and things which can be prepared quickly. Then the internal argument about needing to eat won't end with a shrug and a peanut butter sandwich.

At 2 pm, I considered my options. I had Wendy's salad on Wednesday; Panera on Tuesday and Subway on Thursday. My usual route home does not take me by anything. This is to my betterment, of course; both my waistline and my pocketbook. I have the grocery list prepared. I am ready to hit the ground running tomorrow, but it's 2 pm on a Friday afternoon, and it's not the best pickings in the freezer or cupboards at home. What's there needs some elements of preparation and I'm too tired for that.

Then I had a thought. I have not had Taco Bell in ages. No, it's not the best food on the planet. It's also slightly out of the way. It does, however, meet one criteria, it's inexpensive for what I get.

If I could have put voice to the internal conversation, you would have laughed. The tired Deb just wanted to go home. The rational Deb acknowledged the tiredness, but said food is important. The larder would be restocked on Saturday. Tonight, I could indulge. Besides, I couldn't tell me when the last time was I walked into a Taco Bell and got food.

I got my usual, which is 3 soft tacos and a drink. They have these balls of deep fried dough surrounding a custardy center and rolled in cinnamon sugar. Thank goodness I only got 2 of them. The flavor was of cinnamon sugar grease. Never buying that again. The tacos were their usual decent selves. It's not amazing food. It's steady and, like any other chain fast food restaurant, the same. Three soft tacos in Glen Ellyn are going to taste the same as three soft tacos in Warner Robins, Georgia. There are times when that is exactly what you want.

Recommending Taco Bell food is kind of like recommending Oreos. Yeah, the stuff is okay once in awhile, but not all the time. There is one thing they have which I will recommend.

It's a blue raspberry "freeze". I like these kinds of drinks anyway. Call them Slurpees or Slushies or Freezes, they are finely shredded ice into which flavoring has been added. As the ice melts, you get the liquid beverage. They usually come in a dispenser machine. Taco Bell supposedly has strawberry flavor reminiscent of Starbursts but they were out of that flavor. So, I "settled" for blue raspberry. You know, it's $2.50 for this size; $3.15 for the large size. This size is plenty. If you like the weird taste of blue raspberry, this is very good.

The thing with this is, now that I know I can get it via the drive-up, I don't have to go in and get food. I never had to but I don't like handing my debit card through the drive thru window where it's out of sight for a few minutes while they ring up the sale. I can cobble together $3.50 to have for this beverage. I won't get it regularly; it's not something I should be consuming regularly. But in the annals of comfort food, I've found a beverage which fits the bill.

Beverage:  Scottish Oat Stout (I finished the blue raspberry freeze)

Deb

How Do You Like Your Car?

I have been asked this alot lately. It's been six months since the Jeep was replaced. I've gone through every season except spring, but, given the warm air over Chicagoland, you could say we had mini-spring this past week.

I'm driving around Chicagoland on Monday, February 20th, with the windows down and wearing a short sleeved shirt. My photo feed reminds me that 3 years ago, we had 6 inches of snow.

There are things I miss about the Jeep. It was fun to drive, even in traffic, with the stick shift. It sat up higher and I felt I could see more of what was around me. I'm constantly tweaking the mirrors because I don't feel I can see to my left or right, even when I turn to look before changing lanes. Never had that issue with the Jeep. There is one thing the Malibu has which the Jeep did not.

I have information at my finger tips. This was in August. We didn't get a lot of 100+ degree days. We haven't had a summer that hot in a few years. I'm not complaining, mind you. I like hot weather but I think I would feel extremely oppressed if that was the norm, rather than the exception.

On the Monday the above photo was taken, this was the temperature when I got into the car.

I documented this more for the "Oh look. An even number of miles", than the temperature. I haven't figured out the trip meter. I'm going to have to actually read the owner's manual for that. Until I do that, I write the beginning and ending mileage in the notebook I carry with me. The Jeep had a little button I pushed to reset the trip meter.

I also have a tire pressure and oil life indicator I can scroll through. I don't like the lack of a beep or a light if the gas gauge gets low. I have to notice and then set the display for "Fuel Distance". I've come close to being out of gas because I don't have that on the display. (Note to self: you need gas.) Perhaps a noise can be set but I'll have to read the manual to figure out how.

I used the Sirius XM radio free three-month trial and I am NOT signing up for that service. If I listened to classic rock, hip hop, rap, or current popular music, it would pay to have it. The sheer abundance of stations playing that kind of music was immense. I listen to jazz. I had the 1940's channel; the all Frank Sinatra channel; the 'smooth jazz' channel; and a channel devoted to Broadway musicals. Huh? No thanks. When I go cross-country and are out of the reach of my local jazz station, I have a CD player. I can listen to Gregory Porter's "Be Good" or Annie Lennox's "Nostalgia" or Duke Ellington's "Three Suites" or "Ella and Louis Together" or any of my jazz albums, provided I remember to bring my CD case. And don't even get me started on my Scottish music. A station for that? You're nuts.

They have been calling to get me to renew my subscription but don't seem to get that what they offer is not what I like. Last night, I told the guy, "Please stop calling. I won't sign up and the more you call, the more angry I am and the less likely I'll consider your service, period." "But...but...ma'am, you just need to listen..." Click.

As I travel about for work, I've found a number of people who say the Malibu is probably the best passenger car Chevrolet makes. They are impressed I drive one, even one which is 6 years old.  How do I like my car? For once, in spite of the circumstances surrounding the purchase, I got a break from life. I'm happy. It works for me.

Beverage:  Raspberry Seltzer

Deb

Patt Saves the Day

I'm pretty sure I never blogged about this. I had every intention of doing so, but things got hectic and the photo was misplaced.

My friend, Patt, gave me this when I went to visit her over Memorial Day 2015. I had no idea something like this existed. She had retired from her administrative position and was cleaning out cupboards. "Maybe you could use this?" she asked. I'm ashamed to admit I didn't know what it was until she explained it.

It has saved my pocketbook and my work time. I found another one on a clearance shelf at Target. You see I have chicken noodle soup in this. But once I discovered Chef Boy-ar-dee still made Spaghetti O's, I started taking a can's worth in this one. So the one I got at Target is used for soup. You know, try as you might, tomato stains don't always come out of Tupperware after it's been microwaved.

This has made lunches so much better. I dump a can of soup or Sketti O's into the container and take it to work. Add a bowl of Jell-O or sliced fruit or vegetables and I have a full meal. I don't absent-mindedly hop in the car and head to Wendy's or Subway; the two closest restaurants; for lunch. It saves me money and I can work through lunch. There are days when you just need to get out because you need the break, but my finances are much better for not going out a lot.

I have the best friends.

Beverage:  Cranberry Tea

Deb

What Is This?

I had to do some home inspections at the end of summer last year. These were large homes with a lot of different landscaping. I find myself mentally filing away things that work and things that don't.

One of the homeowners had this plant in pots by the garage.

It was tall, even taking into consideration it was in a pot. I would say it was probably 6 feet tall. The homeowner had put impatiens around the bottom and this was shooting up from the center.

I have no idea what this is. The husband just shrugged and said, "I dunno. My wife finds this stuff." It's so distinctive. Is it invasive? Is it self-seeding? Is it like a dahlia where I have to dig up the tubers to overwinter in my climate? I have not been able to find this in my seed and plant catalogues. I'm going to be redoing a few of my planting beds this year so I'm on the lookout for distinctive plants. The prairie plant bed is getting enlarged. I don't think this is a native prairie plant, but I could be wrong. Any reader have an idea?

Beverage:  Cranberry Tea

Deb

The Things You Learn

Work takes me into a wide variety of structures. I've detailed, in this space, some of the historic structures where I find myself. I've documented the intriguing, the goofy and the "huh?". We had to inspect a Sherwin-Williams paint store warehouse several months ago. It serviced not only homeowners, but also contractors. There were the typical paint store accouterments about the front walls; paint chips, computer for matching colors; rollers and brushes; masking tape; all the stuff you'd find in any paint store.

We headed to the back, into the warehouse, because the job for which we were doing the inspection was adjacent to the back wall. We walked past cans of neutral base. I expected that. There were several different brands of neutral base. I was a bit surprised because I didn't know Sherwin-Williams owned all these different brands. The store manager said different bases have different sheens and have different tones to their colors. That's why they had a 30 foot wall of paint chips. What's yellow in one brand is more lemon in another. It's about giving the customer options.

At the back I saw this.

Rows and rows and palettes upon palettes of 10 gallon sized buckets of paint. These are broken down based on a customer's needs. Certain base colors are for certain mixed colors. They had four industrial mixers, giant red machines where they could make one of these Rembrandt Ruby or Calypso or Quest Gray. They can make large amounts of one color or several gallons of the same color. They service a number of Sherwin-Williams paint stores so these buckets are broken into gallons of base when a store needs more. Plus, a contractor painting all the hallways in an apartment building, for instance, will want 10 gallons of the same color. He can come here and they'll make it.

We've all purchased paint. It comes in a gallon can with a lid whose edge you bend when you have to use the screwdriver to open it because you lost that really neat thing they gave you at the store. It never occurred to me to consider where that gallon comes from. It was fascinating to do my job surrounded by what would become color. Finding this photo reminds me I never did paint the bathroom or the rear entry. I should do that.

Beverage:  Cranberry Tea

Deb

Things I See - Exploding Eyeballs Edition

I was in a space some time ago where this was the wallpaper in one of the rooms.

I've been trying to think of something complimentary to say but I simply cannot. This was on all four walls. If this had been a bedroom, I could not imagine sleeping here. I have no idea of the age of this wallpaper.

I just put this out there for you to look at. I see a lot of design which inspires me, but I also see a lot which befuddles me, completely and totally.

Beverage:  Assam tea

Deb

Look Up

How many of us look up? Seriously. When you're going from point A to point B, do you look up, straight ahead or down? I have to admit I tend to look down. I've reached the age where not falling is a thing to be savored so I watch where I walk. And, I find a lot of loose change, but there is so much above our heads which we don't see because we look straight ahead or we are looking down. Here is a case in point.

Is that not a different ceiling? It was in the entry of a building where I had a couple of inspections. The building is over 100 years old. I have no idea if the ceiling is original and lovingly restored, or something from a later renovation. It's just different.

Here is the ceiling of the area outside the elevator on the floor where I had inspections.

I was told this is gold leaf. This is not original to the building but was added in the 1920's. You can see the edges of the thin sheets of gold. 

Finally, this was the ceiling of a room I inspected.

Granted, I would notice things like this because I get paid to look at the floors, walls and ceilings, but it made me realize that looking up gives you more beauty than your narrow down or across focus. I wonder what other ceilings I've missed.

Beverage:  Hot Cocoa

Deb

The Things I See - Public Space - Part 4

One final note on Old St. Patrick's Church. One weekend every summer, the intersection of Adams and Halsted is closed for "The World's Largest Block Party". I remember when they held their first one. It was to raise money to fix something in the church. Membership had declined and the Archdiocese of Chicago was considering closing the church. The block party was touted as a way for the city to recognize the historic significance of the church and to support keeping it alive. I think the party stretched over a weekend. Now, it's just one full day, but proceeds still benefit the church and its attached school.

At the time of the first block party, the neighborhood was crumbling. I'm thinking it was early 1980's when they did the first one. In my 17 years with Vibra-Tech, I've seen huge redevelopment of the area around the church. There are groceries and restaurants and condos. Channel 26, WCIU, is here. Oprah's old studio is a half-mile away. That site is currently being redeveloped. A lot of the seedy bars have been removed. A hotel is going in up the street. Greektown starts immediately south of the church and there are many restaurants which have come into that area.

Across the street is a park. The park contains a statue.

On this day, the benches in the park were full of people eating lunch, reading, listening to music, looking at their phones, etc.

The statue, a gift from Chicago's sister city, Galway, Ireland, is meant to represent the Irish immigrants who left their homeland and came, specifically, to Chicago. These immigrants built and maintained this church.

The green space to the north and east of this statue had children playing. Every city needs these kinds of spaces. There is a parking lot to the north which I can see becoming redevelopment material at some point, given all the construction in the area. But this space won't be developed. That's good.

Beverage:  Assam Tea

Deb