For 3 days, I watched the bricklayers shovel sand and cement, turn on the mixer, and make a batch of whatever compound was used for the footing, for stacking the courses of bricks, and for the grouting process. My front yard is a mess, with left-over sand in a pile, stretches of dried concrete here and there, powdered cement sprinkled throughout, and the general debris of bricking a wall.
I watched and thought about the process that has not changed since … pyramids? … and my mind says, “Why is there not a roll of strong adhesive of even thickness, in a variety of natural colors, that can be applied between the courses of bricks?” The bricklayer would start at one end of the course, apply a strip of adhesive to each side of the brick, set the brick in place, and move on to the next course.
We have super adhesives that are used to hold in false teeth, as well as for cementing replacement teeth against the moist gums—and they do a fine job. We have adhesives for construction that stick house numbers to the side of the house and stay there 2 decades later. We have adhesive on the back of Velcro to secure household items during an earthquake. We have adhesives for laying tile, carpet, wallpaper, and many other household applications, but we still make a batch of mud to lay bricks!
I’m not talking about using a semi-liquid compound and an application gun, such as is used in caulking guns. I’m talking about a standardized width of adhesive that looks like strips of brick mortar and can be applied to the top of one brick before another brick is stacked on it. Where the bricks join, a flat, winged bridge piece the width of the brick can be used. In mere minutes, the adhesive is in place, the bricks are firmly tapped into level with a mallot, and there is no mess. Imagine how much quicker and cleaner a wall could be built by using the stripping method.
The process could be so much more environmentally friendly, as well as labor and cost effective, without the detritus of bricklaying as we see it today. We use super adhesives on the rockets we send into space, so why not use it for brick walls, especially those that are primarily boundary markers or provide architectural interest to a property.
If I knew how to develop this idea, I would, especially before I had further bricklaying occur on my property. The end result is so much more appealing than the process.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Phone Company
They’ve done it again: AT&T sent me another bill for service I no longer have. The third rep since April began this farce by reading from the script in stilted English, continually calling me by my first name to establish rapport and trust, and assuring me that the problem is (again) solved to my satisfaction.
When Rupert repeatedly asked me “Have I solved your problem,” I could not answer either yes or no, but “we’ll see.” He pounded at me to give him a yes, but I told him half a dozen times that I thought it was solved in April, in June, and again in July, yet I received another AT&T bill in August.
Therefore, regardless of what the script demands of foreign employees pretending to be Americans, I don’t know if the problem is solved.
What I do know is that I do have Verizon service as I (again) called them and reminded them to annotate my records that I do NOT have AT&T, I have repeatedly canceled AT&T since last April, and do NOT let anyone from AT&T change my phone service without my acknowledgement.
Will that work? Who knows.
I also asked Verizon when my phone bill was going to be the promised $69.99 a month that it was supposed to be since last April. It has been as high as $130 and as low as $99, but it has not been $69.99, plus the laundry list of tack-ons that I am sure are both unnecessary and borderline illegal. They are waiting for a discount to be applied ... .
I was happy when the phone company was a monopoly because either everyone received good service at a fair rate or everyone was screwed. Since all these phone companies have established themselves, it is a monthly crap shoot whether you’ll get service, the quality/consistency of that service, and the price for it.
God forbid there should be a problem because there are no solutions, just foreigners reading prompted scripts. If you get them off-script, it messes them up and they start over at the top regardless of how far down the page you are when they lose track.
Endless hours of entertainment if you have nothing else to do, I suppose, but it's just another common business practice that annoys me.
When Rupert repeatedly asked me “Have I solved your problem,” I could not answer either yes or no, but “we’ll see.” He pounded at me to give him a yes, but I told him half a dozen times that I thought it was solved in April, in June, and again in July, yet I received another AT&T bill in August.
Therefore, regardless of what the script demands of foreign employees pretending to be Americans, I don’t know if the problem is solved.
What I do know is that I do have Verizon service as I (again) called them and reminded them to annotate my records that I do NOT have AT&T, I have repeatedly canceled AT&T since last April, and do NOT let anyone from AT&T change my phone service without my acknowledgement.
Will that work? Who knows.
I also asked Verizon when my phone bill was going to be the promised $69.99 a month that it was supposed to be since last April. It has been as high as $130 and as low as $99, but it has not been $69.99, plus the laundry list of tack-ons that I am sure are both unnecessary and borderline illegal. They are waiting for a discount to be applied ... .
I was happy when the phone company was a monopoly because either everyone received good service at a fair rate or everyone was screwed. Since all these phone companies have established themselves, it is a monthly crap shoot whether you’ll get service, the quality/consistency of that service, and the price for it.
God forbid there should be a problem because there are no solutions, just foreigners reading prompted scripts. If you get them off-script, it messes them up and they start over at the top regardless of how far down the page you are when they lose track.
Endless hours of entertainment if you have nothing else to do, I suppose, but it's just another common business practice that annoys me.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Landscaping Phase 2: The Wall Is Finished (for now)
Mi casa looks so much better with the wall defining it on the lot! Behind that wall is a mess of sand, concrete, and residue from construction, but by the end of next week, it should be landscaped and lovely.The men who built the wall did so flawlessly, ordering exactly the materials they required to do the job. Their teamwork was a marvel to watch as one did his part, while the other attended to his duties. It seemed that the wall just magically appeared, row by row, effortlessly.
However, it was both hot and humid, so I know how much sweat equity is invested in the apparent effortlessly executed finished product!
When I first thought about fencing, I took the picture of exactly what I wanted to surround my property. What goes on top of the column is some sort of black, perhaps wrought iron, light fixture. On top of the wall will be some sort of black, perhaps wrought iron, fencing. I have a picture from a resort of a sculpted wrought iron fence that looks like mountains across the top--and that's my goal.
The next step is to make that happen.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Making [Illegal] Connections
I wondered why my neighbor's watering system came on at the same time as mine, but assumed we had picked the right times to water because they were the right times. Not so.I cut off the water in the front yard about a month ago, when my grass was beyond revival and it was time to change to desert landscaping. My neighbor's grass quality noticeably declined shortly thereafter because ... as you can see in the photo, the "family's landscaping business" tied into my watering system when they added the system to their front yard!
In the photo, the property line follows the string and the rebar from the chain link fence to the street. Thus, the pvc pipe is going from my property to their property, and that "t" is much newer than the pvc into which it ties.
I always trust people until they no longer warrant it, and these neighbors have been friendly enough but always pushing the boundaries of both my property and my good nature. This goes one step too far.
Since I cut off the water, my bill went from $130 to $10, a sure sign that something was up. I have gone to the local water district in the past and complained about my bill, especially during the summer, one of the reasons I was determined to take out the lawn. They assured me I had an underground leak, but it was obviously no "leak," but an illegal connection by the neighbor into my watering system.
There is no going back and changing what's already done, but there is no more free ride on my dime. One more reason that no matter how much this project costs me, it is worth every penny!
Timely Delivery
When arrangements were made to deliver the bricks and related supplies on Friday, the only caveat I provided was the hour I would be gone to pick up a friend at the airport and deliver her and her dog to her home a mile away.
No problemo, was the response: the delivery would be made after 3:s0 pm.
So, of course, I left at 10:15 and arrived back home right at 11:00 am to find the front yard filled with a delivery truck and 2 men off-loading the bricks into the work site! They did a nice job of stacking them right along the edge of the property cleared for the construction of the brick wall.
I cried, "Halt!" but the boys off-loading the truck kept right on stacking bricks in the exact spot they needed not to be. I tried to explain to them why the bricks needed to be inside the chain link fence, but, well, the tall, well-built blonde hunk replied to my concerns about security, "If they drive by and say anything, just tell them they can't tell you where to put the bricks," indicating that we had a clarity issues with the denotation of the word "security."
When Rick and crew arrived at 3:30 pm as scheduled to meet the delivery truck and help off-load the bricks into the area inside the security fence, he leapt out of the truck on a stream of profanity. The first 1/2 hour on the job was spent moving the bricks to the side, off-loading the truck, and cursing all things delivery-related.
Then, we ran into issues about where the wall should go. As we tried to line it up with the fence, we ran into a wee little problem with the survey marker--that is a full 6 inches inside the fence outer boundary. This is one specific question I asked the previous owner: is the fence on the property line? He assured me it is, but it's not. I'm having the brick wall built inside the survey marker and will deal with moving the chain link fence 6 inches closer to the outside wall of my home if/when it becomes an issue. Until then, it stays put.
By the end of today, Saturday, the first part of the wall should begin to emerge. The plan is to lay all the bricks today and come back to grout it and put the caps on tomorrow. After I shell out another hunk of cash, it's then all mine--and so is the mess they make in the process, Rick gleefully told me. He's glad I'm landscaping after they finish because, as he said with a serious face, "laying bricks is a dirty business."
No problemo, was the response: the delivery would be made after 3:s0 pm.
So, of course, I left at 10:15 and arrived back home right at 11:00 am to find the front yard filled with a delivery truck and 2 men off-loading the bricks into the work site! They did a nice job of stacking them right along the edge of the property cleared for the construction of the brick wall.
I cried, "Halt!" but the boys off-loading the truck kept right on stacking bricks in the exact spot they needed not to be. I tried to explain to them why the bricks needed to be inside the chain link fence, but, well, the tall, well-built blonde hunk replied to my concerns about security, "If they drive by and say anything, just tell them they can't tell you where to put the bricks," indicating that we had a clarity issues with the denotation of the word "security."
When Rick and crew arrived at 3:30 pm as scheduled to meet the delivery truck and help off-load the bricks into the area inside the security fence, he leapt out of the truck on a stream of profanity. The first 1/2 hour on the job was spent moving the bricks to the side, off-loading the truck, and cursing all things delivery-related.
Then, we ran into issues about where the wall should go. As we tried to line it up with the fence, we ran into a wee little problem with the survey marker--that is a full 6 inches inside the fence outer boundary. This is one specific question I asked the previous owner: is the fence on the property line? He assured me it is, but it's not. I'm having the brick wall built inside the survey marker and will deal with moving the chain link fence 6 inches closer to the outside wall of my home if/when it becomes an issue. Until then, it stays put.
By the end of today, Saturday, the first part of the wall should begin to emerge. The plan is to lay all the bricks today and come back to grout it and put the caps on tomorrow. After I shell out another hunk of cash, it's then all mine--and so is the mess they make in the process, Rick gleefully told me. He's glad I'm landscaping after they finish because, as he said with a serious face, "laying bricks is a dirty business."
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A Little Bit of This 'n That
My left hand has been aching for the past couple of weeks. At first, I thought it was from the massive onslaught of wash cloths, but I haven't made one for about a week and my hand is still throbbing. This morning, however, I finally got it: it's from walking the 2 dogs together. Although Princess is really good, she's still young enough to be exhuberant, especially when the dogs along the way bark at us. Mia, on the other hand, pulls me off my feet if/when she encounters a cat! And both of them go nuts if/when there's a desert bunny on the loose.
Hence, very sore left hand, the hand which holds the leashes and tries to keep my body grounded when the girls want to lunge.
Additionally, I've been watching TV; now, I realize that's not something about which I should be bragging, but I haven't watched much TV in the past several years, so it's a treat for me. I have found Crossing Jordan, The Closer, Heartland, Dead Zone, and a couple of the other new, fluffy summer shows. Come to think about it, I doubt that I've watched anything on the major networks because, thanks to Time Warner Cable, my network channels are filled with local business people talking about their wares! It is amazing how many desert dwellers have absolutely nothing else to do but tape shows on dentistry, plastic surgery, weight loss programs, real estate, financial investments--the list is endless.
I haven't figured out yet where Time Warner has hidden all the network shows, but Katie Couric might be pissed to find out that when she begins her evening newscast in this desert locale, she is bounced for a well-known local real estate company hawking its houses!
Next, I'm finally beginning to feel that this is the place I live because it's my place, not the rental I moved into 7 years ago, leaving all my belongings in the garage in the boxes I brought with me. Even though I purchased the home from the landlord the year after I moved in, this hasn't been my home: it's the "rent house" I bought. I've painted, installed carpeting, installed tile, renovated both bathrooms, added both a patio cover and a little front patio with cover, extended the fence and landscaped (even though Mia took it all out of the backyard) once, and now a second time: I've worked hard to turn this into my home, but my heart has never been in it.
I'm fixing up the house so it will be my home while I contemplate what comes next. Do I stay here? Do I move one more/last time? Do I continue to teach for the community college or truly retire? Do I travel or just talk about traveling? Do I leave the house and find people with whom I have something in common to spend parts of my newly-discovered free time? Do I actually go to some of the movies I've wanted to see this summer or continue to stay home because I'm spending all my money on the house projects?
Finally, how many wash cloths can I either knit or crochet before some answers start appearing?
Hence, very sore left hand, the hand which holds the leashes and tries to keep my body grounded when the girls want to lunge.
Additionally, I've been watching TV; now, I realize that's not something about which I should be bragging, but I haven't watched much TV in the past several years, so it's a treat for me. I have found Crossing Jordan, The Closer, Heartland, Dead Zone, and a couple of the other new, fluffy summer shows. Come to think about it, I doubt that I've watched anything on the major networks because, thanks to Time Warner Cable, my network channels are filled with local business people talking about their wares! It is amazing how many desert dwellers have absolutely nothing else to do but tape shows on dentistry, plastic surgery, weight loss programs, real estate, financial investments--the list is endless.
I haven't figured out yet where Time Warner has hidden all the network shows, but Katie Couric might be pissed to find out that when she begins her evening newscast in this desert locale, she is bounced for a well-known local real estate company hawking its houses!
Next, I'm finally beginning to feel that this is the place I live because it's my place, not the rental I moved into 7 years ago, leaving all my belongings in the garage in the boxes I brought with me. Even though I purchased the home from the landlord the year after I moved in, this hasn't been my home: it's the "rent house" I bought. I've painted, installed carpeting, installed tile, renovated both bathrooms, added both a patio cover and a little front patio with cover, extended the fence and landscaped (even though Mia took it all out of the backyard) once, and now a second time: I've worked hard to turn this into my home, but my heart has never been in it.
I'm fixing up the house so it will be my home while I contemplate what comes next. Do I stay here? Do I move one more/last time? Do I continue to teach for the community college or truly retire? Do I travel or just talk about traveling? Do I leave the house and find people with whom I have something in common to spend parts of my newly-discovered free time? Do I actually go to some of the movies I've wanted to see this summer or continue to stay home because I'm spending all my money on the house projects?
Finally, how many wash cloths can I either knit or crochet before some answers start appearing?
Update Home Improvement Project: Painting
The house is finished, but the patio cover is not yet painted. It's going to be sprayed, and I may ask the contractor to include the front patio cover, shown in this photo, as it's looking a bit worn, too.This photo still does not show the true color: it looks washed out, and the color is actually a deep sage green and probably 3 times more vibrant than this photo shows it. I changed the photo in the last blog entry as the shadowed part is more true to color than any other photo I've taken. I guess it has to be seen to appreciate the actual color.
All the little nicks and dings in the stucco are gone, as well as a couple of hooks and a hose hanger. The corners have all been repaired and all the nail holes filled in. The covers of various utilities are painted so they blend, rather than stand out. The guys didn't paint at all behind the corner post for the chain link fence gate, so I got my hands on a paint brush and added my 2 cents to the project. Yeah.
The bricks for the column at the walk, where the gate will (eventually) go, are in the garage, and the bricks are not just the perfect color, but also the perfect texture. It's going to look so good! I'm already planning how to save up enough money to pay for the wrought iron topper within a year as the black against the rich, dark sage green looks so good.
A friend recommended installing hook-up for lighting at the gate, so that is going to be part of the finished project. I would never have thought of that touch, but it's a great idea and will not only look good, but add a layer of visibility between the street and the front entry.
I'm sure I'll drive right by my new house as it'll take some getting used to the new appearance. I hope all the other houses turn green with envy ;-D
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Color Me Happy
How come the color never looks as good in the picture as it does on the wall? This is such a beautiful, vibrant green and it looks avocado, instead of the lush color it is! I deliberately did NOT choose a yellow green, but a gray green ... maybe when they get around to the front, I'll take another photo and it'll show the true color.The dogs are being moved with the painting, from the back yard to the side yard, and even spent some time inside. Not a great idea to keep 3 dogs inside the house at the same time.
Today, the complete base coat will be rolled on, as well as the patching of the plaster. The people who owned the home prior to my purchase nailed a lot of whatever into the stucco, chipping it in the process, which has led to the need for this maintenance.
Tomorrow, the final coat will be put on and the patio cover spray-painted all one color, to match the existing trim. I also have to put a coat of the trim color on the front mini-patio cover as it's looking a bit weathered already. I want the whole house to look fresh and clean--and all mine!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Rock My Yard
The rock arrived amidst a lot of Spanish chatter from the 5 men who brought it to the front yard. They laughed at the funny lady who wants a big rock in her yard ... but when they finished cleaning the yard, I gave each of them a personal thank you: "Muchas gracias por la piedras." They smiled at my limited Spanish, but thanked me in return for the $10 I gave each of them for moving what turned out to be about twice the size I thought it was in the desert setting. It's going to be partially buried, so it'll be just what I want: natural bench seating so I can enjoy the yard.The watering system has been taken out for the brick wall phase of the project and a faucet has been added to the side yard so I can water the oleander and bring it back to life. It's one of the hardiest desert plants, able to sustain itself with no water, but it looks a whole lot better, greener and fuller, when it is watered about once a week. I'm just going to use a soaker hose, rather than continue on with miles of pvc pipe and sprinkler heads.
The painting begins tomorrow with the power wash and plaster patch, and Ray says he'll be done by Thursday, just in time for the brick wall to get footed on Friday! I'm meeting Rick in JT today to pay for materials, which will be delivered Thursday. It's going to be crowded in my front yard with all the workers and materials coming and going for the various projects.
The landscaping will take place after the paint dries and the wall is finished. Meinardo says he'll do both sides at once as he thinks he can do the whole project in 2 days as it's pretty simple, actually.
At this point, whatever it takes is going to be okay with me because once it's finished, I'm finished.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Menagerie a Trois
Grady came today to stay with “the girls” while his mom is visiting her parents. Grady’s an old hand at our house because he comes to visit often. On the days in the past that I went up the hill to teach night classes and would be gone from home for 16 hours, Grady came to keep Mia company so she wouldn’t get into too much mischief or be lonely in my absence.
When Grady was invited to visit in June, during vacation planning time, we didn’t know that Princess would be here, but it’s okay so far. The first hour was a bit tricky as Grady wanted to re-establish his dominance at Mia’s house, but Princess wanted to let him know that she’s here and isn’t going anywhere any time soon. The growls were ferocious, so I put a big bowl of water outside—and locked all 3 of them out of the house for an hour.
Figure it out dogs because this is the way it’s going to be until Friday.
After an hour outside in the hot, muggy desert sunshine, I reopened the doggy door and soon had 3 bodies strewn on the cool tile floor, but separated, not in a pile. Mia and Princess have been sharing the floor pillow and the couch cushion, so something must have transpired outside that included marking distinct territories.
I’m not sure yet how to handle the early morning walk as I have my hands full with 2 dogs and doubt that I can add the third, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll take the week off? Or take one each day?
I’m not a big fan of taking Grady along as he always has to poop! It’s bad enough to pick it up after it’s dried for a week in the back yard, but scooping up fresh poop turns my stomach. I wonder what he’ll do to retaliate if I simply continue to take the girls and leave him here?
Whatever is going to be is going to be, so we’ll let today take care of today and see what comes tomorrow morning.
When Grady was invited to visit in June, during vacation planning time, we didn’t know that Princess would be here, but it’s okay so far. The first hour was a bit tricky as Grady wanted to re-establish his dominance at Mia’s house, but Princess wanted to let him know that she’s here and isn’t going anywhere any time soon. The growls were ferocious, so I put a big bowl of water outside—and locked all 3 of them out of the house for an hour.
Figure it out dogs because this is the way it’s going to be until Friday.
After an hour outside in the hot, muggy desert sunshine, I reopened the doggy door and soon had 3 bodies strewn on the cool tile floor, but separated, not in a pile. Mia and Princess have been sharing the floor pillow and the couch cushion, so something must have transpired outside that included marking distinct territories.
I’m not sure yet how to handle the early morning walk as I have my hands full with 2 dogs and doubt that I can add the third, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll take the week off? Or take one each day?
I’m not a big fan of taking Grady along as he always has to poop! It’s bad enough to pick it up after it’s dried for a week in the back yard, but scooping up fresh poop turns my stomach. I wonder what he’ll do to retaliate if I simply continue to take the girls and leave him here?
Whatever is going to be is going to be, so we’ll let today take care of today and see what comes tomorrow morning.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Pathways
I believe that God puts people in our paths for reasons known only to Him, but when we need someone, (s)he comes into our lives.
Wednesday upset me. I treat people fairly, but I do expect them to meet my expectations, especially if I am hiring them to do a job. I detail the job ahead of time and tell exactly what I'll pay for those services. If we have a deal, good--get to work; if it won't work for you--go find another job. Meanwhile, I start by myself and do what I can. The altercation with Juan was unnecessary, threatening, and just plain mean. I didn't know what I was going to do without any help, but I filled the truck with sod, drove it to the dump, came home, took a shower, and went to teach my night class.
Life goes on, with or without us and our problems.
Last night, as I was returning home from the Thursday class, my cell phone rang. It was the painter, Ray, calling to confirm our meeting this morning, as well as his Monday start date. Just before we rang off, I asked him if he knew anyone I could hire to work with me on the landscaping as it's all torn up and has to be finished one way or another. I know I need help to do that.
This morning, Ray gave me a name and a number. I called and we made an appointment, and just finished our conversation in person. I am ecstatic: this man gets it! He understands my vision, has some great ideas for the rocks and the plants in the main yard, shook his head at the ridiculous mess the watering system is in--and will start work Monday by bringing me the one rock that I just have to have in my front yard!
We drove over to the end street and I showed him both the one lot with lots of great rocks for the landscape, but also THE ROCK, the one that looks like a natural bench that I want to be part of the finished picture. He agreed with me, and he's going to go get it early Monday morning, have his crew clean up the front yard, and then put that one rock in place for me as a promise to complete the landscaping project the way I want it to be.
We're going to go to the nursery to pick out the plants AFTER he places the rocks because he gets it: I don't know what plants will go where until I see the rocks!
He wants to add one of those beautiful, colorful desert Bird of Paradise plants at the corner of the house to hide the watering system valves and the ugly backyard/chain link fence. What a great idea: it's so ugly, and I never thought about using a large plant and a rock to shield it.
As a matter of fact, while Ray is painting and Charlie is building the brick wall, Maya is going to complete the cactus side yard, including bringing in the desert sand covering. He says I'll be happier if I see that my dream is coming true while I wait for it to be finished.
My heart is joyful and my head is optimistic; my checkbook feels empty, but it's going to be done. At last.
Wednesday upset me. I treat people fairly, but I do expect them to meet my expectations, especially if I am hiring them to do a job. I detail the job ahead of time and tell exactly what I'll pay for those services. If we have a deal, good--get to work; if it won't work for you--go find another job. Meanwhile, I start by myself and do what I can. The altercation with Juan was unnecessary, threatening, and just plain mean. I didn't know what I was going to do without any help, but I filled the truck with sod, drove it to the dump, came home, took a shower, and went to teach my night class.
Life goes on, with or without us and our problems.
Last night, as I was returning home from the Thursday class, my cell phone rang. It was the painter, Ray, calling to confirm our meeting this morning, as well as his Monday start date. Just before we rang off, I asked him if he knew anyone I could hire to work with me on the landscaping as it's all torn up and has to be finished one way or another. I know I need help to do that.
This morning, Ray gave me a name and a number. I called and we made an appointment, and just finished our conversation in person. I am ecstatic: this man gets it! He understands my vision, has some great ideas for the rocks and the plants in the main yard, shook his head at the ridiculous mess the watering system is in--and will start work Monday by bringing me the one rock that I just have to have in my front yard!
We drove over to the end street and I showed him both the one lot with lots of great rocks for the landscape, but also THE ROCK, the one that looks like a natural bench that I want to be part of the finished picture. He agreed with me, and he's going to go get it early Monday morning, have his crew clean up the front yard, and then put that one rock in place for me as a promise to complete the landscaping project the way I want it to be.
We're going to go to the nursery to pick out the plants AFTER he places the rocks because he gets it: I don't know what plants will go where until I see the rocks!
He wants to add one of those beautiful, colorful desert Bird of Paradise plants at the corner of the house to hide the watering system valves and the ugly backyard/chain link fence. What a great idea: it's so ugly, and I never thought about using a large plant and a rock to shield it.
As a matter of fact, while Ray is painting and Charlie is building the brick wall, Maya is going to complete the cactus side yard, including bringing in the desert sand covering. He says I'll be happier if I see that my dream is coming true while I wait for it to be finished.
My heart is joyful and my head is optimistic; my checkbook feels empty, but it's going to be done. At last.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Help Wanted: Faeries to Appear in the Night
Many parents use the faery tactic with their children to encourage clean bedrooms, brushed teeth, finished meals: the faeries are not going to come in the night and do it for you! Today, I'm wishing there were gaggles of little guys getting shovels ready to finish clearing the sod from my front yard during the night.
Today, I shoveled up one truck full of sod and made the dump run. The supervisor came over twice to check on progress, telling me it doesn't usually take "that long" to empty a pick-up bed. I smiled sweetly and told him I wasn't aware there was a time limit, that it takes as long as it takes when I'm the one behind the rake. I offered him to do the job himself to speed it up if that would help his traffic flow.
No, he didn't want to help me--just encourage me to be faster. It took me 1-1/2 hours to fill it and only 1/2 hour to empty it, so I thought it went pretty well.
Two more truck loads will do the trick. The problem is that because Juan wouldn't read the directions so he could stop, turn, and do the next row with the machinery, he did a half-assed job at best, leaving a whole lot of sod for me to dig out by hand. It's better than nothing, I guess, but it cost me $100 for the rental, and I wanted all the sod cut, not just parts of it.
The sod will be removed by the end of the weekend as the painter comes in Monday and I can't be throwing black dirt into the air and onto the new paint. As soon as the painter finishes, the wall guys are coming, and the new brick retaining wall will be done by the end of next weekend.
And that leaves me with bare dirt behind a nice retaining wall--and the rest of my project to complete. I think it's actually going to be easier to deal with once the wall is in and I have some boundaries to work within. I'm going to call around about getting help with the watering system, but the rest of this is going to be on my shoulders as those darned faeries just don't seem to be inhabiting the desert this summer.
Today, I shoveled up one truck full of sod and made the dump run. The supervisor came over twice to check on progress, telling me it doesn't usually take "that long" to empty a pick-up bed. I smiled sweetly and told him I wasn't aware there was a time limit, that it takes as long as it takes when I'm the one behind the rake. I offered him to do the job himself to speed it up if that would help his traffic flow.
No, he didn't want to help me--just encourage me to be faster. It took me 1-1/2 hours to fill it and only 1/2 hour to empty it, so I thought it went pretty well.
Two more truck loads will do the trick. The problem is that because Juan wouldn't read the directions so he could stop, turn, and do the next row with the machinery, he did a half-assed job at best, leaving a whole lot of sod for me to dig out by hand. It's better than nothing, I guess, but it cost me $100 for the rental, and I wanted all the sod cut, not just parts of it.
The sod will be removed by the end of the weekend as the painter comes in Monday and I can't be throwing black dirt into the air and onto the new paint. As soon as the painter finishes, the wall guys are coming, and the new brick retaining wall will be done by the end of next weekend.
And that leaves me with bare dirt behind a nice retaining wall--and the rest of my project to complete. I think it's actually going to be easier to deal with once the wall is in and I have some boundaries to work within. I'm going to call around about getting help with the watering system, but the rest of this is going to be on my shoulders as those darned faeries just don't seem to be inhabiting the desert this summer.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Public Disclosure
People who conduct personal phones calls in a restaurant deserve to have both critique and feedback.
My decision today was to take a meritorious day off to regroup after yesterday's nastiness. I drove to the Post Office to check my mail, and upon exiting the parking lot, allowed my car to turn right and head for the Pizza Hut. Ever since the commercials have been on TV for the "pizzone," I've wanted to try one, probably not a good nutritional decision on many levels, but so what. I literally haven't had pizza in just about a year, so today was going to make up for that self-denial. In spades.
I fixed a large platter of fairly plain salad, which I ate while waiting for the pizzone. The lunchtime entertainment featured 2 men, who may or may not have been related (it was hard to tell), discussing a real estate deal. One of them discussed details for a full 10 minutes with a woman involved in the situation , while the other guy listened in. Phone guy paid $73k for the property and he wants to divide it in thirds, but he also wants to give a break to one of the people involved in the deal. His property = his business.
When the phone conversation ended, the second man, the eavesdropper, began his podium presentation, a most unwelcome lecture generated from his ego-centric ethics, his greed, his wanting in on the deal. He challenged the first man, corrected his math/figures, told him he was "nuts" to throw away potential profit just because he wants to do good by his cousin (I think; it may have been his son). The financial management specialist was aggressive and unrelenting; every time the man explained that this is the way he wants to do this business, the other man came with a new attack.
Finance man hammered the other guy with one phrase: can you afford a $24k gift? Has this guy ever done anything to earn getting your $24k? Couldn't you use that money yourself, rather than throwing it away on someone who won't appreciate it? Hell, he said, if you have that kinda money to throw away, throw some of it my way.
That was good for a self laugh, but it was obvious that the man with the property had made his decision. I wondered if he would be able to stand by it or finally cave in to the unrelenting pressure from the wheeler/dealer.
There was something in me that wanted to turn around and tell the profit-led conversationalist to shut the hell up and leave the guy alone! He made it clear that this is what he wants to do, and it appears to be his decision to make, so shut up and mind your own business. As if that is going to happen ...
As I stood up to leave, I checked out the 2 men, one of whom was an older man, probably in his 50s, dressed in his well-worn work clothes. The money man was a heavy-set, bling-decorated, 20-something big wheeler and dealer decked out in more hip clothes. He didn't look professional, he looked "pimped out," which leads me to believe he's just some guy working a deal that could benefit him if he plays his cards right.
Imagine how much bang for the old man's buck this guy could get from a quick $24k.
The conversation between the two men will not be over for many long weeks to come if bling guy has his way!
PS: The pizzone is good, reminding me of a pre-made product that is cooked, rather than made to order. I ordered the traditional, which had lots of bell pepper, some onion and cheese, and a tiny bit of meat. If I go back for another pizzone, I'll try the "meat lovers" variety because the traditional was almost too vegetarian for my taste.
My decision today was to take a meritorious day off to regroup after yesterday's nastiness. I drove to the Post Office to check my mail, and upon exiting the parking lot, allowed my car to turn right and head for the Pizza Hut. Ever since the commercials have been on TV for the "pizzone," I've wanted to try one, probably not a good nutritional decision on many levels, but so what. I literally haven't had pizza in just about a year, so today was going to make up for that self-denial. In spades.
I fixed a large platter of fairly plain salad, which I ate while waiting for the pizzone. The lunchtime entertainment featured 2 men, who may or may not have been related (it was hard to tell), discussing a real estate deal. One of them discussed details for a full 10 minutes with a woman involved in the situation , while the other guy listened in. Phone guy paid $73k for the property and he wants to divide it in thirds, but he also wants to give a break to one of the people involved in the deal. His property = his business.
When the phone conversation ended, the second man, the eavesdropper, began his podium presentation, a most unwelcome lecture generated from his ego-centric ethics, his greed, his wanting in on the deal. He challenged the first man, corrected his math/figures, told him he was "nuts" to throw away potential profit just because he wants to do good by his cousin (I think; it may have been his son). The financial management specialist was aggressive and unrelenting; every time the man explained that this is the way he wants to do this business, the other man came with a new attack.
Finance man hammered the other guy with one phrase: can you afford a $24k gift? Has this guy ever done anything to earn getting your $24k? Couldn't you use that money yourself, rather than throwing it away on someone who won't appreciate it? Hell, he said, if you have that kinda money to throw away, throw some of it my way.
That was good for a self laugh, but it was obvious that the man with the property had made his decision. I wondered if he would be able to stand by it or finally cave in to the unrelenting pressure from the wheeler/dealer.
There was something in me that wanted to turn around and tell the profit-led conversationalist to shut the hell up and leave the guy alone! He made it clear that this is what he wants to do, and it appears to be his decision to make, so shut up and mind your own business. As if that is going to happen ...
As I stood up to leave, I checked out the 2 men, one of whom was an older man, probably in his 50s, dressed in his well-worn work clothes. The money man was a heavy-set, bling-decorated, 20-something big wheeler and dealer decked out in more hip clothes. He didn't look professional, he looked "pimped out," which leads me to believe he's just some guy working a deal that could benefit him if he plays his cards right.
Imagine how much bang for the old man's buck this guy could get from a quick $24k.
The conversation between the two men will not be over for many long weeks to come if bling guy has his way!
PS: The pizzone is good, reminding me of a pre-made product that is cooked, rather than made to order. I ordered the traditional, which had lots of bell pepper, some onion and cheese, and a tiny bit of meat. If I go back for another pizzone, I'll try the "meat lovers" variety because the traditional was almost too vegetarian for my taste.
Icking My Wow
It's partly the humid, overcast skies that are causing my bummer mood today, but it's also giving up one of my dreams--to do my own desert landscaping.
It's partly that I engage in huge projects that I cannot do without help, and when I do find help, more often than not I am on the receiving end of abusive treatment from those I hired to help.
It's partly that when other people disappoint me, I feel that it is my fault somehow, rather than a flaw in the other individual's personality, mental health, or work ethic.
I have used proper procedure to list the job to be done, my expectations for job performance, the salary I am willing to pay, and the estimated price of the job--and still been abused by individuals I've hired to work. I am a fair, honest individual, but I cannot seem to find fair, honest individuals to work with me.
Before I retired, one of my pet peeves was people who did their personality, instead of the job. The schmoozers arrived in the nick of time, used all the right jargon with all the right people in all the right settings, made kids "feel good" with prizes, rather than educate them, and were the ones who earned the public praise for their performance at the end of the school year.
Those of us who showed up early and prepared, worked our tails off to do the best job we could for the students, met all deadlines on time the first time, and always took the high road in awkward situations, had to sit and applaud politely for the personality people as they received resounding recognition for popularity? for good social skills? for showing films in place of making kids read the textbooks? for buying treats for students? for allowing students to use their IPods and cell phones during class? for not calling kids on plagiarism and overt cheating? for being the first one at the annual staff party--and the last one to leave? For doing their personality instead of the job we were all hired to do?
It is that employee who beats the rest of us down, who takes away from the professional career choices we make by mocking what we do. They are "cool" in the minds of the students and, often, administrators, but seldom interact with colleagues who can see right through the thin veneer of substandard job performance. Children learn what they live, so when they take classes from these personality professors and earn easy A's, that becomes their expectation not just for their high school career, but for their lives: it should be fun, it should be easy, it should be all about me.
The same way that students come from the personality teachers' classes into the professional teachers' classes and create issues about the course content being too hard, the performance expectations too rigorous, the teacher doesn't like me, and/or I want a schedule change, these students graduate from high school and move into the job market where they have the same approach. When the going gets tough, when the job demands professional performance, these employees cannot produce because they have learned how to have fun, how to do an easier work-around that makes them look good on the surface, and how to accuse the supervisor when things don't go their way. It is never this person's responsibility and always someone else's fault.
Juan warned me that he had a temper, that his previous relationship kicked him out several times and had an order of protection. He told me that the lady he is living with wants him to pay her rent or move out, but he won't do it because he has no money. He complained (the 2nd day on the job) that I was only paying him $10 an hour to help me dig, which wasn't much. He said giving him bottled water and making him take a 10-minute break every hour wasn't right: I should have paid him more money and let him bring his own water.
I guess he believed that if I knew he could be an asshole, it was my fault if he became one. Not so.
We worked together 3 days, for a total of 12 hours, without incident. He came to work prepared to do the job and earned his salary. For some reason, and I'm sure it's not related to me, he came to work yesterday with his personality disorder--and I believe he expected me to accept it! Not so.
I'm taking the day off from the yard today, leaving the mess of torn-up lawn where it is. I'll consult with the new landscaper this evening and make my decision based on that meeting. I will not commit to anything that is not written into a contract that we both sign--and includes a penalty clause for failure to perform to my expectations.
Don't just talk your talk: walk my walk.
It is, after all, my landscaping project. If you don't want to do the job for which I hire you at the salary we agree upon, keep on walking when you come to my address.
It's partly that I engage in huge projects that I cannot do without help, and when I do find help, more often than not I am on the receiving end of abusive treatment from those I hired to help.
It's partly that when other people disappoint me, I feel that it is my fault somehow, rather than a flaw in the other individual's personality, mental health, or work ethic.
I have used proper procedure to list the job to be done, my expectations for job performance, the salary I am willing to pay, and the estimated price of the job--and still been abused by individuals I've hired to work. I am a fair, honest individual, but I cannot seem to find fair, honest individuals to work with me.
Before I retired, one of my pet peeves was people who did their personality, instead of the job. The schmoozers arrived in the nick of time, used all the right jargon with all the right people in all the right settings, made kids "feel good" with prizes, rather than educate them, and were the ones who earned the public praise for their performance at the end of the school year.
Those of us who showed up early and prepared, worked our tails off to do the best job we could for the students, met all deadlines on time the first time, and always took the high road in awkward situations, had to sit and applaud politely for the personality people as they received resounding recognition for popularity? for good social skills? for showing films in place of making kids read the textbooks? for buying treats for students? for allowing students to use their IPods and cell phones during class? for not calling kids on plagiarism and overt cheating? for being the first one at the annual staff party--and the last one to leave? For doing their personality instead of the job we were all hired to do?
It is that employee who beats the rest of us down, who takes away from the professional career choices we make by mocking what we do. They are "cool" in the minds of the students and, often, administrators, but seldom interact with colleagues who can see right through the thin veneer of substandard job performance. Children learn what they live, so when they take classes from these personality professors and earn easy A's, that becomes their expectation not just for their high school career, but for their lives: it should be fun, it should be easy, it should be all about me.
The same way that students come from the personality teachers' classes into the professional teachers' classes and create issues about the course content being too hard, the performance expectations too rigorous, the teacher doesn't like me, and/or I want a schedule change, these students graduate from high school and move into the job market where they have the same approach. When the going gets tough, when the job demands professional performance, these employees cannot produce because they have learned how to have fun, how to do an easier work-around that makes them look good on the surface, and how to accuse the supervisor when things don't go their way. It is never this person's responsibility and always someone else's fault.
Juan warned me that he had a temper, that his previous relationship kicked him out several times and had an order of protection. He told me that the lady he is living with wants him to pay her rent or move out, but he won't do it because he has no money. He complained (the 2nd day on the job) that I was only paying him $10 an hour to help me dig, which wasn't much. He said giving him bottled water and making him take a 10-minute break every hour wasn't right: I should have paid him more money and let him bring his own water.
I guess he believed that if I knew he could be an asshole, it was my fault if he became one. Not so.
We worked together 3 days, for a total of 12 hours, without incident. He came to work prepared to do the job and earned his salary. For some reason, and I'm sure it's not related to me, he came to work yesterday with his personality disorder--and I believe he expected me to accept it! Not so.
I'm taking the day off from the yard today, leaving the mess of torn-up lawn where it is. I'll consult with the new landscaper this evening and make my decision based on that meeting. I will not commit to anything that is not written into a contract that we both sign--and includes a penalty clause for failure to perform to my expectations.
Don't just talk your talk: walk my walk.
It is, after all, my landscaping project. If you don't want to do the job for which I hire you at the salary we agree upon, keep on walking when you come to my address.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
You're Hired!
After calming down from the confrontation with Juan and the ugliness of the whole shouting match, I found the card from a neighbor who has his own landscaping business, called, and made an appointment to discuss my vision for the front yard and get an estimate for him to finish it for me. I cannot continue to work this hard for another 6 weeks, which is what it will take me to do this on my own, and there is NO WAY I'm hiring another day laborer and enduring yet another fiasco with who's in charge.
Just so you don't think I picked the new landscaper out of thin air, the other morning, as I was walking the dogs, a man was in his driveway, finishing up washing his car. I admired his landscaping and talked to him about it, and he told me he did it himself as that's his profession. I had his business card because I asked for it. Nothing like your own yard as rock solid advertising for the job you do.
Today, when I called him, he remembered me and we set an appointment for tomorrow evening. I made it clear that I already have my vision, and that's what I want for my landscaping. I don't want him to come up with his plan: I want to talk to him about how he can make my vision a reality. The work includes the totally messed-up watering system--which is key to having right if I'm every going to leave on vacation for a couple of weeks and not have dead plants when I return!
If he can bring this project in for a reasonable amount and have it done in the next week or so, I'm going to suck it up and pay to have this job finished right. Coming on his heels will be the block retaining wall and the house painting, and then I should be able to relax and know that my property reflects who I am and how I care for what belongs to me.
Just so you don't think I picked the new landscaper out of thin air, the other morning, as I was walking the dogs, a man was in his driveway, finishing up washing his car. I admired his landscaping and talked to him about it, and he told me he did it himself as that's his profession. I had his business card because I asked for it. Nothing like your own yard as rock solid advertising for the job you do.
Today, when I called him, he remembered me and we set an appointment for tomorrow evening. I made it clear that I already have my vision, and that's what I want for my landscaping. I don't want him to come up with his plan: I want to talk to him about how he can make my vision a reality. The work includes the totally messed-up watering system--which is key to having right if I'm every going to leave on vacation for a couple of weeks and not have dead plants when I return!
If he can bring this project in for a reasonable amount and have it done in the next week or so, I'm going to suck it up and pay to have this job finished right. Coming on his heels will be the block retaining wall and the house painting, and then I should be able to relax and know that my property reflects who I am and how I care for what belongs to me.
You're Fired!
What an interesting morning.
Today, Juan and I went to the rental shop to pick up the sod cutter we reserved yesterday, brought it back to the front yard, and life as we knew it ended in a fiery explosion.
No, the sod cutter worked just fine, but Juan (1) would not read the directions (2) would not listen to me read the directions (3) would not stop the machine when it got clogged with too much sod because he had already done the strip, so it was loose and jamming the machine. He kept pushing the machine and, as it started to fall to the side, started cursing.
I reached over and shut the machine off myself so I could talk to him, and he went psycho! He screamed at me, repeatedly, and when I repeatedly told him to calm down and be quiet, he went off on the "don't tell me what to do" rampage.
It got so bad that I told him to shut up, now, and leave the property, that I no longer needed his services. He fired back with "I quit!" but then he didn't leave. He walked it off, cooled off, got his temper somewhat under control, and came back to the cutter.
He did finally restart the equipment and finish cutting all the sod, but when we loaded the cutter back into the truck to return it, he started in again, yelling at me about telling him what to do. He was really pissed that I had told him to shut up and told me never to say that to him again.
He didn't have to worry about that happening.
I let him rant and rave, then told him that I will not tolerate his disrespect, and as soon as we return to the job site, he'll leave. I paid him extra for using the machinery, as I had promised I would, and I paid him for a full 4 hours, even though he was only here for 3. I made him sign the contract as terminated by mutual consent, and told him not to come back.
Now, all of that is well and good, but I'm back to a lot of work left to do all by my lonesome. Granted, I have as much time as it takes, but it goes so much faster when there are 2 people shoveling dirt! It's a hard job, but one I want to do, so I'll just keep chipping away at it, one day at a time.
Today, Juan and I went to the rental shop to pick up the sod cutter we reserved yesterday, brought it back to the front yard, and life as we knew it ended in a fiery explosion.
No, the sod cutter worked just fine, but Juan (1) would not read the directions (2) would not listen to me read the directions (3) would not stop the machine when it got clogged with too much sod because he had already done the strip, so it was loose and jamming the machine. He kept pushing the machine and, as it started to fall to the side, started cursing.
I reached over and shut the machine off myself so I could talk to him, and he went psycho! He screamed at me, repeatedly, and when I repeatedly told him to calm down and be quiet, he went off on the "don't tell me what to do" rampage.
It got so bad that I told him to shut up, now, and leave the property, that I no longer needed his services. He fired back with "I quit!" but then he didn't leave. He walked it off, cooled off, got his temper somewhat under control, and came back to the cutter.
He did finally restart the equipment and finish cutting all the sod, but when we loaded the cutter back into the truck to return it, he started in again, yelling at me about telling him what to do. He was really pissed that I had told him to shut up and told me never to say that to him again.
He didn't have to worry about that happening.
I let him rant and rave, then told him that I will not tolerate his disrespect, and as soon as we return to the job site, he'll leave. I paid him extra for using the machinery, as I had promised I would, and I paid him for a full 4 hours, even though he was only here for 3. I made him sign the contract as terminated by mutual consent, and told him not to come back.
Now, all of that is well and good, but I'm back to a lot of work left to do all by my lonesome. Granted, I have as much time as it takes, but it goes so much faster when there are 2 people shoveling dirt! It's a hard job, but one I want to do, so I'll just keep chipping away at it, one day at a time.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
In Media Mess
Man, I do this all the time: start one thing, then another, then another--and work myself sick trying to get all of them finished.
The yard is driving me crazy because it's so darned hot that I can only work for about 3 hours a day. At this rate, I'll finish by Christmas ... maybe. I've tried finding another person to help me remove the remaining grass because once that's done, the rest will be fun. I also need help with the watering system as it needs to be rerouted, and I'm not sure what/how to do that.
What I've done in the office is great, but there is a huge pile of whatever still in the living room. I've spent hours and hours and hours that seem like no time at all when I see how much is left to go. There are still 3 boxes of stuff in the garage I brought home from work, and not only do I not remember what the heck it is, but I'm rapidly running out of places to put more stuff!
The good news is I've finished prepping and printing all the materials for the start of the college classes this week. Still don't know if it's 2 or 3 classes, but I'll find out tomorrow. Whatever. I can use the $$ to pay for all the projects I have pending.
The painter gave me a good estimate on patching the plaster and then double-coat painting the house, which it sorely needs. I also have a man coming down from JT to give me an estimate on a containment block wall around my property. We're going to go low with it and hope the kids don't spray paint their gang logos on it as they've done with every other block wall in the city. And, it leaves me with the option down the road of adding wrought iron on top of the blocks if/when I can afford that touch.
All in all, once I get what's in the works done, it'll improve the appearance of the property, but then I need to finish up some inside jobs that I've let slide. Now I remember why I was always ready to go back to work in the fall: this not working is too much work!
The yard is driving me crazy because it's so darned hot that I can only work for about 3 hours a day. At this rate, I'll finish by Christmas ... maybe. I've tried finding another person to help me remove the remaining grass because once that's done, the rest will be fun. I also need help with the watering system as it needs to be rerouted, and I'm not sure what/how to do that.
What I've done in the office is great, but there is a huge pile of whatever still in the living room. I've spent hours and hours and hours that seem like no time at all when I see how much is left to go. There are still 3 boxes of stuff in the garage I brought home from work, and not only do I not remember what the heck it is, but I'm rapidly running out of places to put more stuff!
The good news is I've finished prepping and printing all the materials for the start of the college classes this week. Still don't know if it's 2 or 3 classes, but I'll find out tomorrow. Whatever. I can use the $$ to pay for all the projects I have pending.
The painter gave me a good estimate on patching the plaster and then double-coat painting the house, which it sorely needs. I also have a man coming down from JT to give me an estimate on a containment block wall around my property. We're going to go low with it and hope the kids don't spray paint their gang logos on it as they've done with every other block wall in the city. And, it leaves me with the option down the road of adding wrought iron on top of the blocks if/when I can afford that touch.
All in all, once I get what's in the works done, it'll improve the appearance of the property, but then I need to finish up some inside jobs that I've let slide. Now I remember why I was always ready to go back to work in the fall: this not working is too much work!
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Aging Gracefully
When I bought the "easy to assemble" pieces of furniture the other day, I was basing my skill level on physical attributes of approximately 20 years ago. Crawling around on the floor, screwing (even into predrilled holes), lifting, turning, reading directions--all of these diverse actions plum tuckered me out as I assembled one storage cabinet that looks pretty good, but has a drawer that won't close because I used the wrong screw.
And there was still one humongous 2-part storage center to assemble, but I hadn't yet been able to remove it from the back of the car as it was so bulky.
I cogitated about the ease of assembly, the weight of the pieces, and the ever-shrinking blank space against the wall this storage center was going to occupy. I dug the side trench for my yard project, sweating profusely, and asked myself, "Self, do you really want to go inside, shower, and tackle that assembly job?"
Of course, the answer was, "No, I do not."
Once I arrived at that point, the rest was easy: I backed the car up to the bed of the pick-up, which facilitated an exchange of delivery vehicles, picked up the receipt, and took the way too big storage unit back to Lowe's, which is an extremely return-friendly business. Then, I had to consider what I was going to purchase to store all the boxes and piles of precious business belongings that currently reside in the hallway and on the living room floor (protected by an old sheet).
As I considered the options, I decided to drive to Office Depot and return the stylus pack I bought for my PalmPilot as I found the missing one--and decided not to spend 20 bucks on a replacement pack! As I got back into my truck, I remembered that BigLots, which shares parking with Office Depot, has a furniture section ... and sells easy to assemble furniture manufactured by Sauder, which is "good enough" for storing office supplies.
I wandered through BigLots and noticed that in the furniture store part of the discount dealer's facility there were shelves for $30, but up in the sundry merchandise section, there were more Sauder shelves, and these were only $25. I asked for the furniture manager to explain the difference, and he said it's a sell-off; hence, the price.
Now, I don't need to know what a sell-off is and why it matters as I had just received a refund of $173.91 for the Lowe's storage unit, and I could purchase 2 Sauder shelving units for $50, a great return on my return! Feeling flush with my economic success in a falling market phase, I also added a new hand truck to my stash, capable of toting 600 pounts and costing a mere $26. I had priced new wheels for my current hand truck, and the wheels would have cost me $20--and I would have had to install them; hence, disposable hand truck marketing strategy.
I'm feeling good about my shopping success, but am writing this blog in a feeble attempt to forestall crawling around on the floor and assembling the 2 bookcases. I worked outside for 2-1/2 hours this morning, so I'm already physically past my peak, but duty calls.
The plus is that once these 2 shelving units are assembled, I can get all the crap off the floor, and that is worth whatever it costs at this point. The minus is that although I continue to age, I have stopped getting wiser and still think that I'm capable of doing all this work.
All I can say is "Thank God for Aleve!" Without it, none of this would be possible.
And there was still one humongous 2-part storage center to assemble, but I hadn't yet been able to remove it from the back of the car as it was so bulky.
I cogitated about the ease of assembly, the weight of the pieces, and the ever-shrinking blank space against the wall this storage center was going to occupy. I dug the side trench for my yard project, sweating profusely, and asked myself, "Self, do you really want to go inside, shower, and tackle that assembly job?"
Of course, the answer was, "No, I do not."
Once I arrived at that point, the rest was easy: I backed the car up to the bed of the pick-up, which facilitated an exchange of delivery vehicles, picked up the receipt, and took the way too big storage unit back to Lowe's, which is an extremely return-friendly business. Then, I had to consider what I was going to purchase to store all the boxes and piles of precious business belongings that currently reside in the hallway and on the living room floor (protected by an old sheet).
As I considered the options, I decided to drive to Office Depot and return the stylus pack I bought for my PalmPilot as I found the missing one--and decided not to spend 20 bucks on a replacement pack! As I got back into my truck, I remembered that BigLots, which shares parking with Office Depot, has a furniture section ... and sells easy to assemble furniture manufactured by Sauder, which is "good enough" for storing office supplies.
I wandered through BigLots and noticed that in the furniture store part of the discount dealer's facility there were shelves for $30, but up in the sundry merchandise section, there were more Sauder shelves, and these were only $25. I asked for the furniture manager to explain the difference, and he said it's a sell-off; hence, the price.
Now, I don't need to know what a sell-off is and why it matters as I had just received a refund of $173.91 for the Lowe's storage unit, and I could purchase 2 Sauder shelving units for $50, a great return on my return! Feeling flush with my economic success in a falling market phase, I also added a new hand truck to my stash, capable of toting 600 pounts and costing a mere $26. I had priced new wheels for my current hand truck, and the wheels would have cost me $20--and I would have had to install them; hence, disposable hand truck marketing strategy.
I'm feeling good about my shopping success, but am writing this blog in a feeble attempt to forestall crawling around on the floor and assembling the 2 bookcases. I worked outside for 2-1/2 hours this morning, so I'm already physically past my peak, but duty calls.
The plus is that once these 2 shelving units are assembled, I can get all the crap off the floor, and that is worth whatever it costs at this point. The minus is that although I continue to age, I have stopped getting wiser and still think that I'm capable of doing all this work.
All I can say is "Thank God for Aleve!" Without it, none of this would be possible.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
IT'S MY *!@%*!! WEDDING!
Bridezilla is one of those television shows that is painful to watch, but almost like an accident on the freeway: it's hard not to sneak a peek if you have to pass it anyway. As thousands of unplanned dollars are pledged to make the bride’s day perfect—and the future of her marriage questionable—close-ups show the blushing bride screaming invectives at her prospective husband, her formerly closest friends in bondage to the bride’s every whim, and the merchants valiantly trying to accommodate the bride’s every wish, no matter what it is and/or how often it changes.
What should be a beautiful, memorable day for everyone involved in the wedding process can be summed up in one oft-repeated phrase used by the bride to justify her conduct: IT’S MY *!@%*!! WEDDING!
Take the most abominable 2-year-old, the one who gets a guest spot on Super Nanny, age her a bit, put an engagement ring on her finger, and you have the premise for Bridezillas. It’s not about what I need, but it’s all about what I want, and I want it all! Do not question me: I AM THE *!@%*!! BRIDE!
Okay, so one show in this genre is enough to make the point that really, women, you need to stop thinking with your tiara and train and regain a smidgen of control over your life and your emotions. If the groom is willing to accept your out-of-control behavior and total disregard for all the wonderful qualities that brought the two of you together, somehow believing that once “your day” is done, “our marriage” will be fine, then perhaps he deserves to be shackled to you ‘til death do you part. Personally, I think the man who will tolerate this behavior is a *!@%*!! idiot.
And my totally left-brained reaction is always who’s going to pay the bills? Never has a bride been on budget, but blows right past the outer limits with the “it’s MY wedding” mantra. I’ve seen parents—and prospective grooms—mortgage their homes, cash out retirement funds, and max out credit cards to pay for extravagant events that are history tomorrow. No matter how perfect the day seems, the next day dawns with the horror of “how are we going to pay for this?”
Now, the same mentality that brings us Bridezilla has a new niche market, the pampered teen girl who wants a significant event to mark her rite of passage at either age 15 (the Hispanic quinceñera) or 16 (the traditional “Sweet 16” celebration). The horror of this show is that it is now the parents who allow out-of-control teenage girls to control them, to demand that whatever they want for the party must be delivered no expense spared, and who cry, threaten, and curse their parents into getting their way. Girls spend money without any conscious concept of how much is flowing through their parents’ fingers, purchasing a couple of expensive designer dresses so they can change their appearance half-way through the event, demanding cakes and flowers that can easily accrue a $20,000 tab, and insisting on the hottest live bands and venues that rival the most glamorous Hollywood parties.
It’s a runaway train wreck for which the parents seem ready, willing, and able to pay the tab, or totally unable to just say NO!
One young girl not only doubled the budget for her event to avenge a recent boyfriend’s break-up, but she also told her father that he could give her the $3000 in cash for the mother’s failure to provide the centerpiece of flowers the girl wanted in an effort to trim the spending. The nasty celebrant got her way with her father, and then ground salt into the boyfriend when he came calling after he saw the totally hot sports car her parents presented her. His reasoning: I could be driving that car, and all it costs me is making up with the girl. Her reaction: *!@%*!! off!
I’m thinking, “Dude, there’s a reason you broke up with her: she is so into herself that there is no room in her life for anyone else. How could driving a cool car possibly justify spending time with her?”
We live what we learn, and we’re teaching our children values that are, at best, questionable. If we raise our children with the expectation of yes, they don’t learn to respect no. If we want to justify our failure to parent by putting the child in charge of not only her life, but ours too, then we create not just a monster child, but a lifestyle dictated by our children. If we are unwilling or unable to do the parenting job, why do we feel that our teenage children are better equipped to do it for us?
Parents often want to block violence from their children’s TV viewing choices, but I believe that programs such as Bridezillas, American Princess, Platinum Weddings, and the teen party scene are in many ways worse. Children may be scared by violence, but being afraid often helps keep a child safe. If they are nurtured by permissiveness and excess, the lack of boundaries creates a dangerous mindset that they are totally in control of their lives and there are no consequences for their decisions and/or their actions. If something bad happens, someone else will fix it and pay the bill.
Children need to be children, parented by people who care about the future and the values that child will live by in their adult life. It is obvious from the current trend in ego-centric television programs that the values parents have instilled in young women are founded on the extrinsic motivation of material gain and social status.
When one bridezilla questioned the loyalty of a bridesmaid, the girl failed the test and was dropped from the wedding party. My reaction: lucky you to find a way to get out of the train wreck alive! My sympathy went to the poor bride's victims who were not so quick-witted and passed the test!
What should be a beautiful, memorable day for everyone involved in the wedding process can be summed up in one oft-repeated phrase used by the bride to justify her conduct: IT’S MY *!@%*!! WEDDING!
Take the most abominable 2-year-old, the one who gets a guest spot on Super Nanny, age her a bit, put an engagement ring on her finger, and you have the premise for Bridezillas. It’s not about what I need, but it’s all about what I want, and I want it all! Do not question me: I AM THE *!@%*!! BRIDE!
Okay, so one show in this genre is enough to make the point that really, women, you need to stop thinking with your tiara and train and regain a smidgen of control over your life and your emotions. If the groom is willing to accept your out-of-control behavior and total disregard for all the wonderful qualities that brought the two of you together, somehow believing that once “your day” is done, “our marriage” will be fine, then perhaps he deserves to be shackled to you ‘til death do you part. Personally, I think the man who will tolerate this behavior is a *!@%*!! idiot.
And my totally left-brained reaction is always who’s going to pay the bills? Never has a bride been on budget, but blows right past the outer limits with the “it’s MY wedding” mantra. I’ve seen parents—and prospective grooms—mortgage their homes, cash out retirement funds, and max out credit cards to pay for extravagant events that are history tomorrow. No matter how perfect the day seems, the next day dawns with the horror of “how are we going to pay for this?”
Now, the same mentality that brings us Bridezilla has a new niche market, the pampered teen girl who wants a significant event to mark her rite of passage at either age 15 (the Hispanic quinceñera) or 16 (the traditional “Sweet 16” celebration). The horror of this show is that it is now the parents who allow out-of-control teenage girls to control them, to demand that whatever they want for the party must be delivered no expense spared, and who cry, threaten, and curse their parents into getting their way. Girls spend money without any conscious concept of how much is flowing through their parents’ fingers, purchasing a couple of expensive designer dresses so they can change their appearance half-way through the event, demanding cakes and flowers that can easily accrue a $20,000 tab, and insisting on the hottest live bands and venues that rival the most glamorous Hollywood parties.
It’s a runaway train wreck for which the parents seem ready, willing, and able to pay the tab, or totally unable to just say NO!
One young girl not only doubled the budget for her event to avenge a recent boyfriend’s break-up, but she also told her father that he could give her the $3000 in cash for the mother’s failure to provide the centerpiece of flowers the girl wanted in an effort to trim the spending. The nasty celebrant got her way with her father, and then ground salt into the boyfriend when he came calling after he saw the totally hot sports car her parents presented her. His reasoning: I could be driving that car, and all it costs me is making up with the girl. Her reaction: *!@%*!! off!
I’m thinking, “Dude, there’s a reason you broke up with her: she is so into herself that there is no room in her life for anyone else. How could driving a cool car possibly justify spending time with her?”
We live what we learn, and we’re teaching our children values that are, at best, questionable. If we raise our children with the expectation of yes, they don’t learn to respect no. If we want to justify our failure to parent by putting the child in charge of not only her life, but ours too, then we create not just a monster child, but a lifestyle dictated by our children. If we are unwilling or unable to do the parenting job, why do we feel that our teenage children are better equipped to do it for us?
Parents often want to block violence from their children’s TV viewing choices, but I believe that programs such as Bridezillas, American Princess, Platinum Weddings, and the teen party scene are in many ways worse. Children may be scared by violence, but being afraid often helps keep a child safe. If they are nurtured by permissiveness and excess, the lack of boundaries creates a dangerous mindset that they are totally in control of their lives and there are no consequences for their decisions and/or their actions. If something bad happens, someone else will fix it and pay the bill.
Children need to be children, parented by people who care about the future and the values that child will live by in their adult life. It is obvious from the current trend in ego-centric television programs that the values parents have instilled in young women are founded on the extrinsic motivation of material gain and social status.
When one bridezilla questioned the loyalty of a bridesmaid, the girl failed the test and was dropped from the wedding party. My reaction: lucky you to find a way to get out of the train wreck alive! My sympathy went to the poor bride's victims who were not so quick-witted and passed the test!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Landscaping Phase 2
It's a bit difficult to see, but between the oleander and the driveway is now (mostly) bare dirt and stubborn oleander root system.I hired a man who lives up the street to work with me and made him sign a contract and agree to some pretty stiff terms as I've been taken advantage of in the past. He showed up at 6 am as agreed, and we began. When I said 10-minute break and water every hour, I meant we'd work for 50 minutes, then take a break. He was dogging it to keep up with me, but I figured I'd better let him know my expectations on day one, rather than count on him to measure up and find out he's no better than any other person I've hired to help me. Believe me, he's earning his pay and praying for the 10-minute break every hour!
At this point, we need to smooth out the dirt, dig a boundary between the oleander and where the rocks are going to go, and put an restraint along the bottom edge of the area that will be rocked. I'm not sure what that's going to be, but I'll figure it out. I need to keep the rocks where they belong and away from the oleander.
So, as Juan and I are working, he tells me about a great piece of equipment I can rent that takes out the lawn as easily as using a lawn mower. Why didn't he mention this BEFORE we started work? He thought he'd earn more money because it would take more time, but when he saw that I'm going to be right there next to him--and I know how to work--he decided that it's not only harder than he thought, but it's hotter, too.
I'm going to check at the local Home Improvement Centers and see how much it costs to rent this piece of equipment as Juan assures me it'll only take an hour to remove all the grass from the rest of the yard if we use the machine. Good thinking, Juan.
Then, we decided that instead of buying rocks and finishing what we started today, we're going to prep the other side of the yard, go to the quarry, pick out what I want, and have them bring in one helluva load of rock that we then will wheelbarrow into place. Makes sense as I could be driving back and forth picking up rock for a dozen trips, and Juan told me I have to load the pick-up each time ... which I'm not going to do a dozen times.
Phase 2 is definitely underway and I'm looking forward to Phase 3 if/when I can rent the machine. Once the lawn is gone, it'll be fun to lay out the rocks and do the desert plantings.
So far, so good.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Re: Yucky Peaches & Creme
If you read a previous blog about my cones of all-cotton yarn, you'll know that I was not totally thrilled with the way the product looks on the cone.To be fair, I made a wash cloth in each of the color selections and then rated them according to my preference. Now, I should have made all the same design, but that's not me: I just randomly picked a yarn and created a design to see what it'd look like finished.
The top color is Raspberry Swirl, and I like it, but not in the pattern I chose, an old stand-by for a bias-knit washcloth. It's a yarn-over to form an edging, but all the rows are straight knitting, and it doesn't showcase the colors. I like these colors better than the others, but it's a yucky washcloth.
To the right is Sour Apples; again the colors are okay, but I don't like the yellowy tone to it. I thought it was going to be more off-white than cream, and I think I'd like it better if it weren't cream.
At the bottom is Mountain Shadows, and it's not bad. The actual design on the washcloth is one of my favorites, a seed stitch, which makes a slightly exfoliating effect when used in the shower.
On the left is Sea Breeze, which has to be my favorite not just for the color blends, but because it looks kinda "western cowboy" made up. It's the luck of the draw on the design I chose, so I'll have to see it in another stitch to see if it's really my favorite, or just used in this design.
Smack dab in the middle is the worst: Country Gardens. This is the one color I thought I'd really like because it's mauve, green, and white, but it isn't vibrant enough to look like watermelon, and it's too colorful to be muted pastel. I think it just looks little old lady!
So, there you have it. I'll add these to the growing stacks of wash cloths and leave this all-cotton cone legacy for my children to deal with after I have departed my favorite knitting spot on the couch for the big craft club in the sky.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Taco Tuesday
It's fun to be out walking in the morning, watching the world wake up, listening for the sounds of alarm clocks that pierce the morning silence. The dogs know all the streets, the sounds and the smells that identify each, and the barking dogs. Some dogs are running loose, others are behind fences, and some are allowed to bark their way to the end of the driveway, but don't charge after us.Walking on a favorite street, there are several little Cheewahwahs, you know, the little yappy ugly dogs that bare their fangs and act like you should be afraid of them? The dogs that would be mush in a minute if I were to step on them? They are the most annoying dogs on the face of the earth, and they bark without hesitation and unceasingly every single morning!
As we went by one offending driveway dog, my two kept their heads up high and didn't miss a step. We came parallel to the next yard up the street, where 2 women were sitting under a shady tree, smoking cigarettes and enjoying their early-morning coffee.
"Don't you just hate all that barking?" one of them asked me.
"Yeah," I agreed.
She said, "Let your two dogs loose and maybe they'll put an end to the barking permanently. We'd sure appreciate it."
I laughed and told her that there are at least a dozen of the same annoying dogs every morning on our walks, and she quipped, "Ah, you're waiting for Taco Tuesday!"
That is, for the uninformed, the day that the local Taco Bell offers a dozen tacos for $5, a deal some people wait all week to enjoy. Since the Cheewahwahs are a dog favored by Mexican families (I don't know why), she was referring to my 2 dogs eating all the little "taco" dogs along the way.
I got a kick out of the image of Mia and Princess chowing down on a dozen annoying little yapping dogs, and continued our walk.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Hilton Hospital Method
The bills for the hospital visit are starting to trickle in; I spent from noon on Monday to about 10:30 am on Wednesday as a guest of the Regional Medical Center, the first 10 hours in the emergency room, the next 20 hours enduring endless tests while waiting for an arterial angiogram to rule out problems with the arteries, and the final 15 hours waiting to be released because there was nothing found to explain my symptoms. The total amount billed is $32,801.59. Assuming my visit was 45 hours, the charges are $728.92 an hour, pretty pricey payment for a visit that ended with the diagnosis heart arrhythmia, undetermined cause, and the treatment protocol Prilosec because it could be acid reflux that caused my chest pains.
Or not.
The good news is that the medical center can bill whatever it wants, but the insurance companies ignore whatever they receive. Blue Cross is paying $7,092.00 for the hospitalization, which sounds a whole lot more in line with services rendered, and my share is $980.38, a tidy sum to pay for 45 hours of occupying a bed without even a change of sheets. Not to worry, however, as I have 30 days to remit the full amount due, and everyone has an extra thousand dollars tucked away for just such a rainy day.
Yet to be added are the fees for the doctors, including my family physician, who told me not to stop at his office, but go directly to the ER, when I called on Monday about the chest pains, and the heart specialist who was called in to do the arterial angiogram and pronounced my medical condition as fine. I’m sure there will be other as yet undisclosed charges to add to my medical expenses, and I’ll pay my share of those, too.
What does alarm me are the letters from BC Life & Health warning me that there was no authorization for the hospitalization, no “pre-certification” to determine medical necessity. Because this authorization was not granted, the bills may not be paid! The letters also assure me that “payment of your benefits could be limited for a number of reasons,” one of which may be whim, if I’m getting the gist of the correspondence correctly. Perhaps this is just a CYA form letter because I know much of the time spent waiting was spent waiting for authorization for (1) admittance to the hospital from the emergency room and (2) for the angiogram and, if necessary, surgical intervention, so I guess I don’t have to worry about this form letter unless the doctor doesn’t do the job of providing the correct information to justify both the emergency room and the hospitalization.
I am grateful that there was nothing found to cause alarm, require further hospitalization, and create even more horrendous bills from medical institutions and procedures, but, honestly, I’m not really comfortable with having severe chest pains on-going for 5 days, combined with heart arrhythmia that was obvious and distinct during the EKGs, being treated with nitroglycerin 3 separate times while hospitalized, and then being sent home with “possible acid indigestion” and a warning to call 9-1-1 if I experience any further symptoms.
Symptoms of what? I’m not calling 9-1-1 if releasing a hearty burp or a colorful fart will do as much for me as a 3-day hospital stay! I thought I could be having a heart attack when I experienced the previous symptoms, which is why I agreed to go to the emergency room. I now know that I don’t have to react to the same or similar symptoms if they reoccur as it’s probably just acid reflux again, so how will I know if/when I really do have to call 9-1-1?
Yes, I’m glad I have insurance and will continue to pay for it now that I’m retired, and I will seek immediate and appropriate medical assistance when/if I feel there is a need for same. But I also understand why so many people don’t bother to have insurance, which means the total bills are write-offs for both the uninsured and the indigent. I also understand that the leading cause of bankruptcy in senior citizens is medical bills that can quickly pass the $1 million mark for major hospitalization, surgery, and/or disease.
If these symptoms reoccur, I think I’ll go with the Hilton treatment option: check myself into a luxurious suite, take full advantage of every amenity available, including massage, facial, manicure/pedicure, partake of fabulous meals from a 4-star restaurant, and just wait for the burping to begin. I’ll enjoy it a whole lot more than a hospital room, and the end result will be the same: no diagnosis, no treatment, but a hell of a huge bill at check-out!
Or not.
The good news is that the medical center can bill whatever it wants, but the insurance companies ignore whatever they receive. Blue Cross is paying $7,092.00 for the hospitalization, which sounds a whole lot more in line with services rendered, and my share is $980.38, a tidy sum to pay for 45 hours of occupying a bed without even a change of sheets. Not to worry, however, as I have 30 days to remit the full amount due, and everyone has an extra thousand dollars tucked away for just such a rainy day.
Yet to be added are the fees for the doctors, including my family physician, who told me not to stop at his office, but go directly to the ER, when I called on Monday about the chest pains, and the heart specialist who was called in to do the arterial angiogram and pronounced my medical condition as fine. I’m sure there will be other as yet undisclosed charges to add to my medical expenses, and I’ll pay my share of those, too.
What does alarm me are the letters from BC Life & Health warning me that there was no authorization for the hospitalization, no “pre-certification” to determine medical necessity. Because this authorization was not granted, the bills may not be paid! The letters also assure me that “payment of your benefits could be limited for a number of reasons,” one of which may be whim, if I’m getting the gist of the correspondence correctly. Perhaps this is just a CYA form letter because I know much of the time spent waiting was spent waiting for authorization for (1) admittance to the hospital from the emergency room and (2) for the angiogram and, if necessary, surgical intervention, so I guess I don’t have to worry about this form letter unless the doctor doesn’t do the job of providing the correct information to justify both the emergency room and the hospitalization.
I am grateful that there was nothing found to cause alarm, require further hospitalization, and create even more horrendous bills from medical institutions and procedures, but, honestly, I’m not really comfortable with having severe chest pains on-going for 5 days, combined with heart arrhythmia that was obvious and distinct during the EKGs, being treated with nitroglycerin 3 separate times while hospitalized, and then being sent home with “possible acid indigestion” and a warning to call 9-1-1 if I experience any further symptoms.
Symptoms of what? I’m not calling 9-1-1 if releasing a hearty burp or a colorful fart will do as much for me as a 3-day hospital stay! I thought I could be having a heart attack when I experienced the previous symptoms, which is why I agreed to go to the emergency room. I now know that I don’t have to react to the same or similar symptoms if they reoccur as it’s probably just acid reflux again, so how will I know if/when I really do have to call 9-1-1?
Yes, I’m glad I have insurance and will continue to pay for it now that I’m retired, and I will seek immediate and appropriate medical assistance when/if I feel there is a need for same. But I also understand why so many people don’t bother to have insurance, which means the total bills are write-offs for both the uninsured and the indigent. I also understand that the leading cause of bankruptcy in senior citizens is medical bills that can quickly pass the $1 million mark for major hospitalization, surgery, and/or disease.
If these symptoms reoccur, I think I’ll go with the Hilton treatment option: check myself into a luxurious suite, take full advantage of every amenity available, including massage, facial, manicure/pedicure, partake of fabulous meals from a 4-star restaurant, and just wait for the burping to begin. I’ll enjoy it a whole lot more than a hospital room, and the end result will be the same: no diagnosis, no treatment, but a hell of a huge bill at check-out!
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Patch and Pray
Occam’s Razor is a theory that states that the simplest solution/answer is probably the correct solution/answer. We tend to forget the simple truth when grappling with disaster and look for complexity where, perhaps, none exists.
A bridge collapsed last night in Minnesota, and person after person after person is asking how this could happen, especially during rush hour, as if it were a planned occurrence. Occam’s Razor goes to the heart of the answer: when the bridge was built in the 1960s, there was probably 1/4 of the number of automobiles on the road that there are in 2007. The bridge was built to carry the current traffic at the time it was built, as well as projected increases in traffic over time, but did anyone project the volume of traffic on the bridge in 2007, estimated at 175,000 vehicles, including large commercial trucks, every day of every year?
I doubt it; therefore, the bridge collapsed after 40 years of good and faithful service that far exceeded its ability to sustain. That the collapse occurred to this bridge at this time is simply fate. The list of bridges and freeway overpasses being utilized far beyond the capability of the original structure grows with each passing year, and it is inevitable that there will be more structural failures, more fatalities, and more miraculous survival stories from those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It used to be that most families had a family car, and it was a vehicle shared by however many individuals comprised the family unit. It was a functional piece of family equipment and used for business reasons: work, shopping, vacation. Today, it is common for each individual in a family to have his/her own vehicle and to drive that vehicle daily, including newly-licensed teen drivers motoring a mile to school each day. Thus, a family of 5 that used to rely on one vehicle to meet the family needs now may literally have 3-5 vehicles on the road at any given time. I doubt that anyone projected the current situation could exist when transportation infrastructures were being built back in the 1950s-1980s!
Huge freeways were built during the 1960s, 70s, 80s in the greater Los Angeles metropolis to meet both current and projected needs—and before a freeway could officially open, it was already close to inadequate to handle the increased traffic. I can remember driving on the freeway systems in California when it wasn’t bumper-to-bumper traffic. I can remember when highways with 2 lanes in both directions were adequate, when 3 lanes in both directions were luxurious, and now 4-6 lanes in both directions cannot handle the daily volume of traffic. I can remember when I could count the number of commercial trucks on the freeways as the majority of goods came on the railroads and were off-loaded onto local delivery trucks. Today, at least in LA, the 2 right lanes are primarily devoted to the huge tractor trailers transporting goods from point of origin to the marketplace.
There is limited mass transit available to meet the basic needs of citizens not just to go to and from work, but to entertainment venues, leisure-time activities, and personal shopping; therefore, people are in their cars, driving the freeways, 24/7. Individuals in CA who cannot find work locally to support household expenses often have to find housing within a radius of 35-50 miles one way, which means an additional 2-3 hours every day spent traveling across freeway over-passes that simply were not constructed to meet the increased needs 30-50 years later!
It is inevitable that these structures are going to collapse, and sometimes that collapse will occur during rush hour, and it will be tragic, but it is not hard to understand why it happens. What is difficult to accept is that this condition exists in our infrastructures and we are not addressing it with specific on-going projects to rebuild/replace these aging, inadequate structures. We don’t patch the roof when it doesn’t rain, and we don’t rebuild what’s already in place until it collapses.
We just patch and pray.
A bridge collapsed last night in Minnesota, and person after person after person is asking how this could happen, especially during rush hour, as if it were a planned occurrence. Occam’s Razor goes to the heart of the answer: when the bridge was built in the 1960s, there was probably 1/4 of the number of automobiles on the road that there are in 2007. The bridge was built to carry the current traffic at the time it was built, as well as projected increases in traffic over time, but did anyone project the volume of traffic on the bridge in 2007, estimated at 175,000 vehicles, including large commercial trucks, every day of every year?
I doubt it; therefore, the bridge collapsed after 40 years of good and faithful service that far exceeded its ability to sustain. That the collapse occurred to this bridge at this time is simply fate. The list of bridges and freeway overpasses being utilized far beyond the capability of the original structure grows with each passing year, and it is inevitable that there will be more structural failures, more fatalities, and more miraculous survival stories from those who are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It used to be that most families had a family car, and it was a vehicle shared by however many individuals comprised the family unit. It was a functional piece of family equipment and used for business reasons: work, shopping, vacation. Today, it is common for each individual in a family to have his/her own vehicle and to drive that vehicle daily, including newly-licensed teen drivers motoring a mile to school each day. Thus, a family of 5 that used to rely on one vehicle to meet the family needs now may literally have 3-5 vehicles on the road at any given time. I doubt that anyone projected the current situation could exist when transportation infrastructures were being built back in the 1950s-1980s!
Huge freeways were built during the 1960s, 70s, 80s in the greater Los Angeles metropolis to meet both current and projected needs—and before a freeway could officially open, it was already close to inadequate to handle the increased traffic. I can remember driving on the freeway systems in California when it wasn’t bumper-to-bumper traffic. I can remember when highways with 2 lanes in both directions were adequate, when 3 lanes in both directions were luxurious, and now 4-6 lanes in both directions cannot handle the daily volume of traffic. I can remember when I could count the number of commercial trucks on the freeways as the majority of goods came on the railroads and were off-loaded onto local delivery trucks. Today, at least in LA, the 2 right lanes are primarily devoted to the huge tractor trailers transporting goods from point of origin to the marketplace.
There is limited mass transit available to meet the basic needs of citizens not just to go to and from work, but to entertainment venues, leisure-time activities, and personal shopping; therefore, people are in their cars, driving the freeways, 24/7. Individuals in CA who cannot find work locally to support household expenses often have to find housing within a radius of 35-50 miles one way, which means an additional 2-3 hours every day spent traveling across freeway over-passes that simply were not constructed to meet the increased needs 30-50 years later!
It is inevitable that these structures are going to collapse, and sometimes that collapse will occur during rush hour, and it will be tragic, but it is not hard to understand why it happens. What is difficult to accept is that this condition exists in our infrastructures and we are not addressing it with specific on-going projects to rebuild/replace these aging, inadequate structures. We don’t patch the roof when it doesn’t rain, and we don’t rebuild what’s already in place until it collapses.
We just patch and pray.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Just Yell Fire
This morning, I watched an interview with a 15-year-old girl who made a film, Just Yell Fire, that shows girls how to escape from an attacker.
The website, http://www.justyellfire.com/index.php provides the details, as well as a free download of the film.
This is the kind of education all girls need! Not every girl will win her fight against an attacker, but more girls have a better chance to get away if they use the strategies provided in this film. It appears to be simple to learn, and with repeated practice, the moves should become muscle memory in case a girl is ever attacked.
I'm no longer a girl, but I am a potential victim, so I have downloaded the film and plan to watch it several times, as well as practice to protect myself from an attacker.
Please pass it on.
The website, http://www.justyellfire.com/index.php provides the details, as well as a free download of the film.
This is the kind of education all girls need! Not every girl will win her fight against an attacker, but more girls have a better chance to get away if they use the strategies provided in this film. It appears to be simple to learn, and with repeated practice, the moves should become muscle memory in case a girl is ever attacked.
I'm no longer a girl, but I am a potential victim, so I have downloaded the film and plan to watch it several times, as well as practice to protect myself from an attacker.
Please pass it on.
Doggin' My Walk
Mia and Princess come get me when it's just light enough to snap on the leashes and go for our morning walk. It's that time of the year when it's still in the 80s at 6 am, and right now the humidity is high, so the earlier we go, the better off we fare.
Up 2 blocks and 3 blocks over, on the west side of the busy "main" street, a man was walking his 2 dogs, either of which made Mia look petite, and she's a whopping 85 pounds of pure muscle! His dogs were leashed, so I didn't give him a second thought and kept on keeping on.
However, the suddenly pounding hooves of the pack of unleashed dogs coming at us alerted me to a potential problem: would they go after the man's 2 dogs or come after me? The man stood his ground and began throwing rocks at the pack of dogs, and I kept moving toward a field where there would be rock ammo for me, too. He, however, diverted the attack, the dogs left the area--and then the man began yelling at me!
"God damn city government! You'd think they'd do something about all these god damn dogs running loose!"
"Uh, it's not the city's responsibility: it's the owners who don't secure the dogs that are the problem," I replied.
"Well, if the god damn city would pick up the dogs and kill 'em, maybe people would start keeping their god damn dogs in their yards!"
Okay, great logic: keep your dog in your yard or the city will kill it. It's a simple and effective control tactic, but not what most of us would label either humane or legal!
I thanked him for sharing and kept on walking. Sometimes, the better part of valor is not engaging in a political discussion on the street at 6 am, especially when there is still a pack of uncontrolled dogs in the vicinity.
The rest of our walk was uneventful, with the same dogs barking at us as they do each morning, from behind fenced-in yards. One poor fella appears to have escaped his yard, but he was sitting next to the fence and barking, perhaps so his owner would come outside, see him, and let him back in. After all, there are packs of uncontrolled dogs everywhere in the neighborhood, and even the dogs know it's not safe outside the fence.
God damn city.
Up 2 blocks and 3 blocks over, on the west side of the busy "main" street, a man was walking his 2 dogs, either of which made Mia look petite, and she's a whopping 85 pounds of pure muscle! His dogs were leashed, so I didn't give him a second thought and kept on keeping on.
However, the suddenly pounding hooves of the pack of unleashed dogs coming at us alerted me to a potential problem: would they go after the man's 2 dogs or come after me? The man stood his ground and began throwing rocks at the pack of dogs, and I kept moving toward a field where there would be rock ammo for me, too. He, however, diverted the attack, the dogs left the area--and then the man began yelling at me!
"God damn city government! You'd think they'd do something about all these god damn dogs running loose!"
"Uh, it's not the city's responsibility: it's the owners who don't secure the dogs that are the problem," I replied.
"Well, if the god damn city would pick up the dogs and kill 'em, maybe people would start keeping their god damn dogs in their yards!"
Okay, great logic: keep your dog in your yard or the city will kill it. It's a simple and effective control tactic, but not what most of us would label either humane or legal!
I thanked him for sharing and kept on walking. Sometimes, the better part of valor is not engaging in a political discussion on the street at 6 am, especially when there is still a pack of uncontrolled dogs in the vicinity.
The rest of our walk was uneventful, with the same dogs barking at us as they do each morning, from behind fenced-in yards. One poor fella appears to have escaped his yard, but he was sitting next to the fence and barking, perhaps so his owner would come outside, see him, and let him back in. After all, there are packs of uncontrolled dogs everywhere in the neighborhood, and even the dogs know it's not safe outside the fence.
God damn city.
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