Failed Girl Scout

Yes, I failed my sewing badge at age eight, and my “leader” called all the girls over to laugh at my handiwork. A couple of months later I did well selling cookies, but they don’t let the girls go door-to-door in this day and age.

What was missing? I’m a really good cook but when we went camping and were told to bring a bar of soap and soap our pans I soaped the inside, thinking that we were making sure the pans were clean before we cooked our hot dogs. Once again, our leader pointed out my error (not an error at all in my book, today) and had all the other girls come over and laugh at how stupid I was. Four months was enough to know this wasn’t a positive educational experience.

Leadership was missing. I’ve taken those lessons, turned them around and used them to lead volunteers and non-profit organizations. I look for strengths and encourage them, and correct mistakes without making the person look dumb.

My husband was a geek from day one, turned out to be a gifted physicist and software engineer and leader. And I also give him good scores on EQ (emotional intelligence quotient) most of the time which means he’s not a nerd always.

The difference is that he’s always called my soc/psych and consulting skills “soft skills” whereas physics and math are hard skills. It turns out we’re doing similar things as he has moved out of hard-core coding the past few years. He’s developing and moving serious software through to production, and doing it by hiring people and honing their skills, teaching automated test-driven development to make a product that will be bug-free and last for years.

Many years ago I developed volunteers and we spayed and neutered over 2,000 feral cats in southern California. We took our dog in for her shots the other day and were talking about needed treatments. I told her that if I found a cat on the grooming table with tapeworms I’d take it back to the OR and recorder to order Droncit as this cat was smart enough not to be trapped twice so responding to every present medical issue was essential. For the first few months they’d question me and I’d say “little grains of rice that move” and after that they trusted me but had to record it. Then I’d take it to ICU, a SUV where fluids and flea and other treatments were dispensed and we’d watch all the cats in their crates until they awakened from anesthesia.

I even invented the Dee’s Kitty Wake-Up List that helps the breathers document their health. It’s still in place, renovated and after over 10 years no longer attributed to me. That’s a good thing.

Honesty and persistence, and no less than quality work given the client, company and staff. That’s the only way to go. We’re problem solvers who would drive each other nuts if we worked together all day long.

I knew the first time my husband opened the car door for me and took my hand that we’d be together forever and as I’ve gotten to know him over the years I know that he doesn’t compromise on honesty, persistence, quality work and leadership. Luckily we agree on all those principles.

So, it doesn’t matter that I don’t sew, but I do cook and keep everything clean and can probably thank the scout “leader” who did everything in her power to ridicule me, plus some great teachers and parents to allow me to look back on this humiliation with wisdom and not anger. And if I had money and a foundation to give money, certain organizations that do great work on a shoestring budget and use volunteers wisely and make a difference would be first on my list. Cheers, Dee

Words of Wisdom

As we are days from our ninth wedding anniversary and acknowledgment of our dog Zoe’s eighth year or beginning of her ninth year of life, this hopefully brief period will pass and we’ll go back to normal, wherever we might be.

As my husband contemplates contract work, often everything is done by phone and email, and there is no face-to-face interview. So he sets up camp in the living room with laptop and charger, cell phone and charger, and headphones and talks to recruiters all day.

While I do all the proofreading, cost of living analysis and housing research, I do have to get out and make sure we all have enough to eat et al.

Yesterday he told Zoe, the dog “I’m fun, but she’s important.” He’s a bit put out that when I leave the house she goes upstairs and waits at the window in the guest room until I return, then greets me at the door.

Might that be because I feed her twice a day? Walk her at least three times a day? I don’t know, but when push comes to shove, she knows I’ll be there. She came downstairs before six and asked to get up on the sofa. It’s still dark out and it snowed (imagine that) and hasn’t been plowed yet so if she can wait until 7:15 it will be lighter and she’ll get less salt in her paws. She’s patiently waiting while the fun one sleeps. Cheers, Dee

Magic Sauce

A while ago I spent a month looking for dry marsala, which I had never cooked with before. Finally I found it and looked forward to making sauteed chicken with a marsala sauce.

I just floured the chicken, sauteed it, took it out, added about 1/4 cup marsala, about 1/2 cup chicken broth, then about 1/2 cup cream and reduced it. It was good.

Now that there’s no income, my first thought is to turn to the pantry and frig for what we already have. Our dog doesn’t drink enough water so I bolster her high quality dry food with chicken broth. We were out. Cream, no.

So after I took the chicken out I added 1/4 cup of marsala and looked at what I had in the frig. Milk? Nope, can’t boil milk. Fresh-squeezed OJ that we get delivered every week? Let’s try it.

I added about a cup of OJ, reduced it and added salt and pepper to taste and it was delish! Kind of reminds me of orange chicken my mother used to make in the 80′s, but better.

One of the butchers at our local grocery has taken up cooking and has asked for one of my recipes, which I typed up and delivered today while shopping.

Tonight it’s mom’s pot roast, I smell it cooking in the oven, over egg noodles probably with peas on the side. But first I have to feed the dog, not the fish as yesterday was his last day on this earth. RIP, Fish. Cheers from Dee on a snowy day! Imagine that! And four more days of it should make our economy even brighter (and the spring water supply not drought-worthy).

The Fish is Dead!

I thought it would be cool in August of 2009, the day my husband went from consulting to a full-time role, to get him a fish for his office. I bought him a beautiful blue betta, with food and river rocks and water conditioner and put him in a coffee pot I bought before I went to Petco and picked him out.

My husband codes a lot in Java, hence the coffee pot. He got home from work and I gave him his fish. “I don’t want to clean up after and feed a fish at the office. I’ll just look at him here, he said.”

They don’t usually live longer than 18 months, as I recall, but I fed him twice daily and cleaned his water once a week for nearly 2.5 years now. Today, two weeks to the hour after the massive layoffs, he took his last breath and had a ceremonial flushing. I must admit it was strange a few moments ago feeding the dog and not getting the fish food out of the frig!

Well, if we do have to leave this gorgeous place, at least I don’t have to travel with Fish on my lap, or find someone to take him in. I hate to have any animal die on my watch, but it was his time.

Husband Jim said he was “sad” about being laid off so gave up the ghost. Ha! Jim never even looked at him, fed him, or cleaned his coffee pot.

Another day working the phones and researching costs of living and places to live. It’s emotionally exhausting work and we enjoy taking some time out to walk the dog. Time to make dinner. I spent $20 today on toilet paper, tissues and paper towels and less than $5 on dinner. It’ll be good, though, sauteed chicken with marsala, rosti potatoes and a romaine salad or peas. Happy eating, Dee

Technology

A “futurist,” Brian David Johnson opined on Slate about our fear of technology. http://www.slate.com/articles/technology/future_tense/2012/01/new_technologies_enter_our_lives_and_society_in_four_stages_.html

I beg to disagree. But that’s because my iPhone is several generations back and sometimes I leave in my purse or my car (in the garage) and don’t miss it for a while.

My concern is that families are splintering because their kids are texting all the time. Or they’re on their cell so set a bad example. My family always sat down to dinner together, for 1/2 hour to an hour and we had to ask to be excused from the table. Now I hate it when my husband and I go to a restaurant and the first thing he does is take his phone out of his pocket and sets it on the table and turns it on.

I believe family time is family time. Getting to know your kids can be a good thing, and they can get to know you. I’d put cell phones off and in a far corner and sit down and discuss how things were at school or work that day.

My husband has told me many times that, even as a scientist and software engineer, he views the computer as a tool to do work and maybe book a flight or find a good restaurant nearby.

I use mine to write. While I used to write longhand, a computer first scared me and I had to hand-write at least a few scribbles of talking points before I looked at that blank screen and wrote a speech. But I learned, and that was in the 80′s.

Parents have to set an example and put their own phones down for family time. We had one land line when I was growing up, and no-one was allowed to hijack it. Folks don’t understand that just because you have a cell phone doesn’t mean you have to be on it 24/7. It’s like wearing a really skimpy dress on a first date, just because you’re “available” doesn’t mean you’re friend or marriage material.

Ok, I’m writing this before dawn because I was stuffed up and couldn’t breathe as the air is so dry here. Next the dog goes out, I make my husband a hearty breakfast and we go from there.

Hope you enjoyed the long weekend. We didn’t have one and it stymied us a bit on the job front but it looks like a productive week. Cheers, Dee

Non-Teacher Teachers

OK, I jumped the gun. Let’s look at mentors, aside from grade school teachers. I’m not allowing myself to acknowledge mentors I realized many years later, like Mel from across the street that my husband met and they have a connection that is scientific. I loved him for letting my sister and I come over to see Oz turn into color.

Let’s see, non-teachers. Gil G tried to teach me to think for myself. Bill Mc made me want to write. One nun tried to make me think twice about the Roman Catholic church and its role with women.

As to cooking. Paul Grimes has talent and had access to Julia Child and Simca Beck. Many of my cooking school recipes are from Simca.

Kevin M. and Ralph S. taught me a lot about too much to tell. Business, development, causes, working in the trenches. It’s many years later and we’re still talking so that says something. I learned so much from them.

My friends in the no-kill and leash-free area cause, you deserve credit and thanks for all you/we do. To Helen, Pam, Chris, Kevin and others I’ve learned so much from you. Thank you.

One lady I wish I had the guts to be is our dog’s hip surgeon. She kept the first one to show us. Yes, she’s an Aggie vet, my husband’s cousin. Our dog walks funny (always did) but can run around a tree and elude a Lab because she got to grow her own hips from cartilage as a pup.

Yes, I’ve missed many mentors on this list, but it will continue and if you continue to read this blog your name may be on it, as is my friend pdxknitterati. Cheers, Dee

Teachers

Mrs. Johnson in 2nd grade helped me get my feet on the ground and inspired me to learn. Mrs. McElhheny in the third grade hated my left hook penmanship and the “Squeaky Sisters” violin duet and I won’t rat my better half out.

Fourth grade we had a “divorcee” who taught me math on a football field and I nailed it. Fifth was Mrs. Tibbetts who was so cute and young and just married and the class challenged her with a walkout. She got us all back in hand and I wrote my best paper to date, on Chicago, City of the Broad Shoulders with the essential Carl Sandburg poem and photos pasted into a journal of the meat packing district et al.

Next was math, Mr. B. Primes and algebra et al and I was good at this. Then we moved and everything was two years earlier…….

Is there still a Mason-Dixon line? I know that when I crossed it I lost two years of school that I had to make up when we moved back above it. Now we may move back there, just below the line, and have no kids but still am wary. It’s not like our dog is going to get any dumber and nor will we.

It’s late and I’ll tell you the entire issue in sports (most of it is here) when I return. Music teachers are next. Cheers, Dee, and remember The Happy Wanderer in your dreams.

People Who Made A Difference

For a while, I’ll be writing about teachers and others who made a great difference in my life. Of course my parents were a factor, but that’s a given.

My Aunt Lorna not only taught me to sit up straight, but let me know that a napkin was a serviette and how to speak proper English (she was an English teacher) and she is a really “neat” aunt, as well.

Joan C. was her partner in a summer catering business and a fellow teacher. She was “cool” back in the day and she is still a mentor and friend. And still cool, of course.

These exceptional women have taught me love, respect, caring and telling a kid to eat something before asking what’s in it. That expanded my palate, for which I am forever thankful.

You may not be so thankful as I’ve many others and have not yet compiled a list! The wind has come up and we may actually have snow coming in at least four days this week. The resorts will love it but the wind is coming in fast.

More later. Cheers, Dee

Old Neighbors

I’m up late or early or both, worried about our future. Luckily my husband is not and is upstairs snoring with our dog.

I saw on social media that one friend graduated from the college my father worked at and thought she might have been to Coughlan’s pub. I grew up with these boys, especially Tommy and Jimmy, and Joey stole our bike one day and my tooth went through my lip and I missed a visit to the Zoo.

Many years later I saw the pub en route to my aunts’ home and stopped by. Joey asked who I was and gave me a soda on the house, while telling me of Jimmy having a son they named Tommy after his uncle, my age, who died very young.

I tried to give a review of the place but the site is not conducive to such an act. I will call in the light of day to see how they are doing, in such a small town, when all I really remember is them calling on my dad every night to go out back and play baseball, or on the street for touch football. Dad’s only rule was that everyone got to play, girls too. And play fair, of course.

Love is due to to Dad for doing that for us, and much more. But when I think of neighborhoods I remember the one I was in for five years from age 3-8. OK, also age 8-10 but that’s another story. Cheers, Dee

Experiences and MLK

Many years ago I worked writing legislation. I was probably making about $16K a year back then and was rich enough to go to Europe once a year.

My roommate at the time, still a friend, got a job in our nation’s capital. I thought I was going to help her move in but she’d already done that and probably wanted me there to have someone familiar, as well as someone who’d lived nearby so had seen all the monuments.

The next day she brought me to my first huge farmers’ market. I was stunned. She bought a bunch of Maryland blue crabs and boiled them with Old Bay seasoning. The table was covered with butcher paper and we each had a mallet and I realized there’s really very little meat in a blue crab, but they’re delicious.

A few months later her brother and his wife, and another couple and I decided to drive to D.C. for the first national Martin Luther King federal holiday. I remember that day in 1986 as it was spent honoring the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. and ended at an AME church singing songs and listening to Coretta Scott King talk about her husband and the movement.

After 1986, my father was on the board of a ski resort so some of the kids would go out and ski every year.  Beware of a brother who says, “Nah, you don’t need lessons!” Now I live here and still don’t ski. Of course this year there’s no snow.

I will remember those D.C. trips for the rest of my life. Why? because I lived there for a few years, yes those awkward years, and was forced to go visit monuments and museums or Georgetown every weekend. It’s the farmers’ markets and celebrations of lives and movements that make me want to remember and go back someday.

This state may have named a block after MLK, I’ll have to check. But they waited many years to even acknowledge his existence. Over Thanksgiving en route to the airport we visited the site where JFK was shot and killed. The museum line might have made us late for our flight. Those were difficult days and years.

The first thing I remember in life is watching JFK’s funeral on TV with my mother. After that and picking berries and having our neighbors bombard us with black snakes and cherry bombs, I remember Walter Cronkite telling us the number of dead American soldiers in Vietnam, as we watched the news after dinner each night as Papa had bought us a color TV.

We, as a nation,  have not concluded anything on race or sexual orientation. And now jobs are a thorn in the nation’s side that needs to be fixed as well.

Please, Congress and others, make smart decisions that put people back to work. Yes, I idealized legislators and lawyers until I found out I was being paid less than a quarter of what they were to do their jobs for them. Hello! Go do something that does make a difference.

Even if you don’t agree with my politics, agree that someone has to step up to the plate and stop the Fed from concealing billions to banks before TARP, and let us 99% get back to work and paying our mortgages. Best, Dee