We did some walking this weekend. Yesterday, we walked into our little village for haircuts, some errands, and a stop at our favorite coffee shop. We of course ran into all sorts of people we know and got to catch up with our hairdresser, someone we see more often than we see most of our friends.
Later, we walked back into town for dinner, a concert at our local theater (excellent guitar and flute duos), and home again.
Today we decided to walk in the woods. Near us, there's a town where Mass Audubon has bought property adjacent to town land of two types, belonging to the "Conservation Trust" and "Conservation Commission." We had a fairly good map. And man, are we glad we had long sleeves on. After the rains this week, all the insects in the universe seem to have been born. We walked past a pond and a marsh, met almost no one on the trail except for a woman on horseback, and we saw a heron. We kept following the map until we realized that we had no idea where we were.
I should say that some of the trails had very helpful markings, but none of those were reflected on the map, which was becoming increasingly useless. We were somewhere on the edge of a golf course, so we got onto their cart path. Everyone we talked to had no idea where they were either -- it's a stunningly beautiful place that people must travel to from long distances.
We finally wound our way past many friendly people to the club house and stumbled inside, likely looking completely ridiculous -- everyone else was neatly dressed in long shorts and polo shirts. We looked like sun-fearing monsters of the deep, I'm sure.
We eventually made our way to the owners' office. She kept shaking her head and saying she had no idea how we ended up where we were. Finally, she called out "PJ! Could you please drive these people to their car?" We got a lift and suddenly there we were, back where we started.
As if to confirm our luck, nearer to home, we ran into an old coworker out for a stroll with his five-day old baby and the rest of his family. We got to tell him and his wife in person how happy we are for their good news. A nice cap to a very pleasant weekend.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
nice weekend
We're just coming out of a long weekend. Going into it, we had few plans and I worried a bit that we'd fritter away the time playing on our computers and staring at our electric meter.
We started out fairly relaxed with dinner on Friday night at one of our favorite South Indian restaurants.
On Saturday, we went for a walk around town and then to a contra dance. We have a tradition once a year of mixing English and contra, with two of my favorite callers. The contra caller's husband always plays and gathers a group of fine musicians. This year, we had a pianist, fiddler, someone on pennywhistle, and the husband who played banjo and mandolin, though not simultaneously.
The contra caller is blind and I always marvel at her ability to know how the dance is going, whether the chatter is urgent (no one understood the teaching) or friendly and relaxed (everyone got it). And she is a joyous and lovely dancer. She always dances English, which is especially challenging because you're expected to make wide graceful loops away from your partner and back again. She's quite good and of course everyone helps.
The first time she called for us, I didn't realize she was blind until I saw her dog under the piano and even then it took a while to figure out who the dog belonged to. She's at least on her next dog after that one. This time, there was a slight kerfuffle during English teaching. She was in line, the dog was lying next to the piano, and suddenly realized they weren't next to each other. So the dog came and found her, wagging his tail, so happy to be reunited. Our English caller said "Excuse us, we're having a canine moment." The dog, reassured, was led back to his blanket and we kept going. A very nice evening.
Yesterday, we journeyed up to the Currier Art Museum in Manchester NH, mostly to see a David McCauley exhibit of original sketches and final drawings that ended up in his books (Ship, The Way Things Work, Cathedral, and so on). There's so much detail in his work, and there were great placards that explained things. He's just updated TWTW and has written The Way We Work about bodies. Needless to say, we got involved in each piece. The rest of the museum is small but has some fine pieces. So, for example, the European room has works that range over four or five hundred years, but they are very good works. The smaller upstairs is devoted to American paintings and furniture, especially work created in New England.
And today, we drove west to an Audubon sanctuary at the base of a local mountain. The sanctuary has 1200 acres that go through meadows, past ponds, and through woods. We took two loops, one down to a vast abandoned beaver pond that is drying up and looks, from a distance, like a forest fire went through. Then we walked up to the summit of a hill and looked down on a massive birch that was recently split in two and now forms a wide V shape. I am most grateful to the family that used to summer there and ensured that the land would retain its beauty forever.
So it turned out that this weekend was full of activities after all, delights that tickled our senses and our souls. Add to that some down time, some good sleeping weather and great cat interactions, and I could definitely have more time of this quality.
We started out fairly relaxed with dinner on Friday night at one of our favorite South Indian restaurants.
On Saturday, we went for a walk around town and then to a contra dance. We have a tradition once a year of mixing English and contra, with two of my favorite callers. The contra caller's husband always plays and gathers a group of fine musicians. This year, we had a pianist, fiddler, someone on pennywhistle, and the husband who played banjo and mandolin, though not simultaneously.
The contra caller is blind and I always marvel at her ability to know how the dance is going, whether the chatter is urgent (no one understood the teaching) or friendly and relaxed (everyone got it). And she is a joyous and lovely dancer. She always dances English, which is especially challenging because you're expected to make wide graceful loops away from your partner and back again. She's quite good and of course everyone helps.
The first time she called for us, I didn't realize she was blind until I saw her dog under the piano and even then it took a while to figure out who the dog belonged to. She's at least on her next dog after that one. This time, there was a slight kerfuffle during English teaching. She was in line, the dog was lying next to the piano, and suddenly realized they weren't next to each other. So the dog came and found her, wagging his tail, so happy to be reunited. Our English caller said "Excuse us, we're having a canine moment." The dog, reassured, was led back to his blanket and we kept going. A very nice evening.
Yesterday, we journeyed up to the Currier Art Museum in Manchester NH, mostly to see a David McCauley exhibit of original sketches and final drawings that ended up in his books (Ship, The Way Things Work, Cathedral, and so on). There's so much detail in his work, and there were great placards that explained things. He's just updated TWTW and has written The Way We Work about bodies. Needless to say, we got involved in each piece. The rest of the museum is small but has some fine pieces. So, for example, the European room has works that range over four or five hundred years, but they are very good works. The smaller upstairs is devoted to American paintings and furniture, especially work created in New England.
And today, we drove west to an Audubon sanctuary at the base of a local mountain. The sanctuary has 1200 acres that go through meadows, past ponds, and through woods. We took two loops, one down to a vast abandoned beaver pond that is drying up and looks, from a distance, like a forest fire went through. Then we walked up to the summit of a hill and looked down on a massive birch that was recently split in two and now forms a wide V shape. I am most grateful to the family that used to summer there and ensured that the land would retain its beauty forever.
So it turned out that this weekend was full of activities after all, delights that tickled our senses and our souls. Add to that some down time, some good sleeping weather and great cat interactions, and I could definitely have more time of this quality.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
more life in a small town
On an unintentionally slow walk around the town center this afternoon, we stopped to talk to a man who was doing some fix-up work at our local "gateway" church. Or maybe he stopped us with a comment about the ugliness of the Walgreen's going up (and up) right next door to the church. There had been a letter to the editor of the local newspaper on this very topic this week, expressing surprise that it wasn't aesthetically appealing. It just makes me want to say "What did you expect, historical accuracy?" It's Walgreen's for crying out loud! It's a notch in their business belt so that they can get points for opening more stores this year.
Our new friend said that he'd heard that the Board of Zoning had been "paid off" with a $50,000 donation to the library. I mused that it least the payoffs hadn't been to the individuals on the board, to which he replied "not that they've discovered yet." That's about how it goes.
He told us that in Concord in the 50s, there were no zoning laws for downtown because it was expected that everyone knew what stores were supposed to look like. Woolworths apparently built a brand new standard-issue store, held their grand opening, and ... nobody came. And people stayed away, too, until WW put up a fake colonial front and changed their sign to discreet carved gold leaf letters.
Our friend also worried about whether his church could survive. The congregation is aging and dying off. At 63, he's one of the "kids" and apparently serves as chief cook and bottle washer on the maintenance committee. The Episcopal church in town has already closed. It would be sad to lose this one too. Then again, we as members of no church really don't have the right to comment on those matters.
Our new friend said that he'd heard that the Board of Zoning had been "paid off" with a $50,000 donation to the library. I mused that it least the payoffs hadn't been to the individuals on the board, to which he replied "not that they've discovered yet." That's about how it goes.
He told us that in Concord in the 50s, there were no zoning laws for downtown because it was expected that everyone knew what stores were supposed to look like. Woolworths apparently built a brand new standard-issue store, held their grand opening, and ... nobody came. And people stayed away, too, until WW put up a fake colonial front and changed their sign to discreet carved gold leaf letters.
Our friend also worried about whether his church could survive. The congregation is aging and dying off. At 63, he's one of the "kids" and apparently serves as chief cook and bottle washer on the maintenance committee. The Episcopal church in town has already closed. It would be sad to lose this one too. Then again, we as members of no church really don't have the right to comment on those matters.
life in a small town
From the police blotter of our crime-ridden neighborhood:
- Monday May 11, 2:23 pm. Police were advised of a man parked on Common Road who appeared to be disoriented. Turns out, the man was looking for a lost pair of eyeglasses. [He lost the eyeglasses on West Road, so he really was disoriented. Police advised him of his location and sent him on his way.]
- Tuesday May 12, 2:57 pm. A caller on Randall Road reported a youth came to his door and asked if he needed his lawn mowed. The caller was worried the youth might not be legitimate. [And after all, who would want the son of unmarried parents to mow their lawn?]
- Thursday May 14, 7:50 pm. A caller on Espie Avenue reported a larceny of an umbrella. Police are investigating. [Our men in blue, fighting crime every day.]
- Saturday May 16, 5:15 pm. A resident called to report four boys on the town raft in the middle basin of Lake Boon. The boys appeared to be cooking something on a hibachi. An officer responded, collected pertinent information, and sent the boys on their way. [Key question: Would you share your recipe for marinated grilled duck with the audience at home?]
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
here comes the sun!
A short slideshow on the solar installation going on at our house. Everything's in place. When the final inspections happen, we'll be making our own electricity!
Monday, May 18, 2009
rapprochement, of sorts
The cats spent a few days on opposite sides of a door. They were both very curious about what was going on on the other cat's side. Several times on Friday, I carried Theo into Koa's area and held on to him as she rushed up, sniffed his face, and ran away. Finally, on Friday night, we opened the door and allowed them full access to the house and to each other.
Koa is still sore but seems to be improving. She also continues to be annoyed at Theo whenever he moves toward her. He is doing his best to be respectful -- one glare from her is often all it takes to get him to turn tail. Unfortunately, he continues to be oblivious and playful, and he has occasionally given chase.
Koa continues to stand her ground. She hisses. She growls. And she makes a sound not unlike a theremin. But she is so non-aggressive that she does not take the next step, which is to run after Theo. Theo finds all this terribly unsettling. He seems to convey that he knows he's done something wrong, but he has no idea what.
They clearly have to work something out on their own; there are plenty of hours when we're not around to act as referee. So all we can do is make them both feel safe and loved when we are around and provide an occasional distraction. Theo is particularly good at the "look! shiny!" sleight-of-hand. And really, all he wants to do is play and chase, which may be what got both of them into trouble in the first place.
The good news is that yesterday, they were both sleeping on the bed, Koa in her basket and Theo in his tent. She awoke first, stretched, and licked Theo's face for a bit. That tells me that she doesn't permanently hate him, she just wants her space right now. Onward.
Koa is still sore but seems to be improving. She also continues to be annoyed at Theo whenever he moves toward her. He is doing his best to be respectful -- one glare from her is often all it takes to get him to turn tail. Unfortunately, he continues to be oblivious and playful, and he has occasionally given chase.
Koa continues to stand her ground. She hisses. She growls. And she makes a sound not unlike a theremin. But she is so non-aggressive that she does not take the next step, which is to run after Theo. Theo finds all this terribly unsettling. He seems to convey that he knows he's done something wrong, but he has no idea what.
They clearly have to work something out on their own; there are plenty of hours when we're not around to act as referee. So all we can do is make them both feel safe and loved when we are around and provide an occasional distraction. Theo is particularly good at the "look! shiny!" sleight-of-hand. And really, all he wants to do is play and chase, which may be what got both of them into trouble in the first place.
The good news is that yesterday, they were both sleeping on the bed, Koa in her basket and Theo in his tent. She awoke first, stretched, and licked Theo's face for a bit. That tells me that she doesn't permanently hate him, she just wants her space right now. Onward.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
tee hee!
Just saw an emailed Costco ad, which included a come-on for Clorox and 409 cleaning products:
Help protect you and your family!*
* When used as directed
The mind boggles -- what a ridiculous claim and funny disclaimer. I wonder what lawsuit brought that one on?
Help protect you and your family!*
* When used as directed
The mind boggles -- what a ridiculous claim and funny disclaimer. I wonder what lawsuit brought that one on?
koa, theater
The separation of kitties continues. Both are curious about what's on the other side of the door. They are both extra affectionate with their humans and I've heard Theo cry outside the door a few times -- typical response to a closed door.
I have a new theory about what's happening, which is that Koa somehow injured herself. I don't think she has any broken bones, but a good deal of her back and one side is sore. It's ok to pet her gently but if you apply any pressure at all, she vocalizes a little (rrah, rrrah). I wonder if the first night -- the one when she was hissing at Theo -- was when the injury occurred. The good news is that she seems better already. I think we'll continue the separation until she seems more improved. And take her to the vet if she doesn't.
Last Friday, we went to the theater in town and saw a disturbing play called The Dead Guy. I liked the acting. Jury's still out on the play. The basic premise is that a small-town Loser (whose story was worthy of a bad country music song) is offered a million dollars to spend over the course of a week while being filmed for a reality show. At the end of the week, the viewing audience gets to decide how he dies. Of course, during the course of the week, viewer ratings shoot up, he becomes a better person, he's reunited with his girlfriend, and the person who conceived the show is wildly successful.
I guess there are a lot of underlying messages about just how base Americans are (as reflected by the protagonist, the viewing audience, and the show producer), the redemptive power of being a short-timer, etc etc. But I was left with a bad taste in my mouth. The play was funny, it was well-acted, but I felt like the messages were too broad, too obvious, and I didn't like the ending at all. So there.
Tonight, we're seeing another show a few towns over. The troupe was supposed to put on one of those modern Irish plays that leave you hoping you won't slit your wrists in the middle of the night. Fortunately, they didn't get the rights to that play, so they're doing a play I've wanted to see for a while -- um... oh yes, The Lady's Not for Burning by Christopher Fry. Sounds more fun to me.
I have a new theory about what's happening, which is that Koa somehow injured herself. I don't think she has any broken bones, but a good deal of her back and one side is sore. It's ok to pet her gently but if you apply any pressure at all, she vocalizes a little (rrah, rrrah). I wonder if the first night -- the one when she was hissing at Theo -- was when the injury occurred. The good news is that she seems better already. I think we'll continue the separation until she seems more improved. And take her to the vet if she doesn't.
Last Friday, we went to the theater in town and saw a disturbing play called The Dead Guy. I liked the acting. Jury's still out on the play. The basic premise is that a small-town Loser (whose story was worthy of a bad country music song) is offered a million dollars to spend over the course of a week while being filmed for a reality show. At the end of the week, the viewing audience gets to decide how he dies. Of course, during the course of the week, viewer ratings shoot up, he becomes a better person, he's reunited with his girlfriend, and the person who conceived the show is wildly successful.
I guess there are a lot of underlying messages about just how base Americans are (as reflected by the protagonist, the viewing audience, and the show producer), the redemptive power of being a short-timer, etc etc. But I was left with a bad taste in my mouth. The play was funny, it was well-acted, but I felt like the messages were too broad, too obvious, and I didn't like the ending at all. So there.
Tonight, we're seeing another show a few towns over. The troupe was supposed to put on one of those modern Irish plays that leave you hoping you won't slit your wrists in the middle of the night. Fortunately, they didn't get the rights to that play, so they're doing a play I've wanted to see for a while -- um... oh yes, The Lady's Not for Burning by Christopher Fry. Sounds more fun to me.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
cat fight
I've been meaning to write a bit about the cats. They have been doing well and seem to have become closer to each other. Koa demands to have her head licked; Theo sometimes obliges and is sometimes completely oblivious to her wishes. It is very sweet to see them wash each other.
Koa has been spending more time downstairs and is getting braver in general. I've been working on picking her up, usually just a few inches at a time. She is acclimating to the indignity. She seems happy most of the time.
Unfortunately, she is Theo's favorite toy. I don't think he'd intentionally hurt her, but he likes to play at being Alpha dog and he loves to chase her. She runs away. He catches up and mounts her and acts as if he's biting her neck. She sometimes meeps at him. We try to ignore the rough housing or distract them from it. Eventually they go back to greeting each other and getting along.
Something happened yesterday and now the cats are taking a vacation from each other, courtesy of moi. Last night, I noticed that Koa was on the high shelf. I haven't seen her up there for months. She didn't come downstairs all evening. When I got into bed, she hissed at Theo, who seemed hurt and confused by her hostility. He got into muffin position on the floor (very non-aggressive, especially for him) and tried blinking at her. After lights out, Theo crept onto the bed and snuggled along my ankles.
Then at 5:30 this morning, I woke up to a screaming fight. Theo would not back off. Koa was under a chair and still hasn't come out. I finally caught Theo, held him for a little while, gave him a treat, and shut the door behind him. Koa has the addition to herself; Theo has the rest of the house.
I'm hoping they can somehow reset and re-establish a relationship. It saddens me that they can't get along right now, but I don't want them to endanger each other or upset themselves more. Theo continues to be oblivious. He seems to miss his pal. She just seems worried and nervous.
Koa has been spending more time downstairs and is getting braver in general. I've been working on picking her up, usually just a few inches at a time. She is acclimating to the indignity. She seems happy most of the time.
Unfortunately, she is Theo's favorite toy. I don't think he'd intentionally hurt her, but he likes to play at being Alpha dog and he loves to chase her. She runs away. He catches up and mounts her and acts as if he's biting her neck. She sometimes meeps at him. We try to ignore the rough housing or distract them from it. Eventually they go back to greeting each other and getting along.
Something happened yesterday and now the cats are taking a vacation from each other, courtesy of moi. Last night, I noticed that Koa was on the high shelf. I haven't seen her up there for months. She didn't come downstairs all evening. When I got into bed, she hissed at Theo, who seemed hurt and confused by her hostility. He got into muffin position on the floor (very non-aggressive, especially for him) and tried blinking at her. After lights out, Theo crept onto the bed and snuggled along my ankles.
Then at 5:30 this morning, I woke up to a screaming fight. Theo would not back off. Koa was under a chair and still hasn't come out. I finally caught Theo, held him for a little while, gave him a treat, and shut the door behind him. Koa has the addition to herself; Theo has the rest of the house.
I'm hoping they can somehow reset and re-establish a relationship. It saddens me that they can't get along right now, but I don't want them to endanger each other or upset themselves more. Theo continues to be oblivious. He seems to miss his pal. She just seems worried and nervous.
what it's like now
Five years ago, I left the company -- the one I had once loved -- for the unknown. I was suddenly no longer blue. I was also unemployed - I was in such a hurry to get out that I hadn't given a lot of thought to what was next. I couldn't until I'd calmed down a bit.
To be honest, I've never looked back in wistfulness or regret. Sure, there were years that I loved being there, years when recruiters would call and I would say "I'm honored but no thanks." But in the end, it was time to go. I knew it then, I know it now. I've never missed the place that I left, just the place that was years before.
And then, as I kept up with my friends, I realized how increasingly miserable the place became. Some of the stalwart rocks left for greener pastures. My buddies who were still there seemed more depressed each time I talked to them. Some of them seemed completely incapacitated. I'd nudge gently, but never push -- you can't go until you're ready.
Until, of course, someone else is ready for you to go. This year already, more of my friends are no longer blue. There have been two huge waves; I assume there will be more within a few months. Suddenly, my friends are out in the bright daylight, blinking, and pondering what's next, wondering how they'll get a job in this difficult climate.
I had lunch with one of them yesterday. I had thought it would be a friendly catch-up with a little job-related encouragement thrown in. He read it as an "informational interview" and a "networking opportunity," which was fine. This happened a few weeks ago with another friend. I'll probably follow up with both as I hear of jobs that are appropriate for them.
In any case, the conversation was rather interesting. My friend went on about how it seemed like the company had stopped caring -- about the product and the employees. They had sent an important nugget of the product overseas for maintenance, something of an outrage for people who care about the product. Management had said that other interesting jobs would be found for those who had worked on the nugget. At this point, my friend complained "but they didn't *want* to work on anything else." And so it went.
And he's probably right. People making those decisions Did. Not. Care. about the effect of those decisions on the lives of the workers. They cannot allow themselves to care when they cut highly-paid, once-valued workers from the payroll. The difference is that I see that as reality; he is shocked and offended at the thought.
And then my friend mused aloud about his next job. He said that he'd always assumed that if you wanted to get the work done, you hired a contractor. If you wanted to engage someone, get someone who was creative and would take the product to the next level, you hired a permanent person. I had to break it to him that you don't go to interviews talking about your passions and about how wonderful a job can be for you. You always have to think -- both before the job offer and after -- about what the company can gain from you.
I felt like the doomsayer from hell. I felt like the most negative nabob. I felt like arealist. I still believe it's possible to be satisfied in a job. I think it's possible to find good bosses and even decent companies. But I also think you can never let go of the fact that you're a commodity in a hot market. The moment you fall behind, someone else (heck, ten people) are willing to take your place.
I'm hoping that these waves of unemployed people find meaningful work. We're all still relatively young, sharp, and capable. But the climate has changed dramatically in the last few decades and if you haven't been paying attention, it's a bit of a shock. And I fear this situation will continue for a while longer. Sad times.
To be honest, I've never looked back in wistfulness or regret. Sure, there were years that I loved being there, years when recruiters would call and I would say "I'm honored but no thanks." But in the end, it was time to go. I knew it then, I know it now. I've never missed the place that I left, just the place that was years before.
And then, as I kept up with my friends, I realized how increasingly miserable the place became. Some of the stalwart rocks left for greener pastures. My buddies who were still there seemed more depressed each time I talked to them. Some of them seemed completely incapacitated. I'd nudge gently, but never push -- you can't go until you're ready.
Until, of course, someone else is ready for you to go. This year already, more of my friends are no longer blue. There have been two huge waves; I assume there will be more within a few months. Suddenly, my friends are out in the bright daylight, blinking, and pondering what's next, wondering how they'll get a job in this difficult climate.
I had lunch with one of them yesterday. I had thought it would be a friendly catch-up with a little job-related encouragement thrown in. He read it as an "informational interview" and a "networking opportunity," which was fine. This happened a few weeks ago with another friend. I'll probably follow up with both as I hear of jobs that are appropriate for them.
In any case, the conversation was rather interesting. My friend went on about how it seemed like the company had stopped caring -- about the product and the employees. They had sent an important nugget of the product overseas for maintenance, something of an outrage for people who care about the product. Management had said that other interesting jobs would be found for those who had worked on the nugget. At this point, my friend complained "but they didn't *want* to work on anything else." And so it went.
And he's probably right. People making those decisions Did. Not. Care. about the effect of those decisions on the lives of the workers. They cannot allow themselves to care when they cut highly-paid, once-valued workers from the payroll. The difference is that I see that as reality; he is shocked and offended at the thought.
And then my friend mused aloud about his next job. He said that he'd always assumed that if you wanted to get the work done, you hired a contractor. If you wanted to engage someone, get someone who was creative and would take the product to the next level, you hired a permanent person. I had to break it to him that you don't go to interviews talking about your passions and about how wonderful a job can be for you. You always have to think -- both before the job offer and after -- about what the company can gain from you.
I felt like the doomsayer from hell. I felt like the most negative nabob. I felt like a
I'm hoping that these waves of unemployed people find meaningful work. We're all still relatively young, sharp, and capable. But the climate has changed dramatically in the last few decades and if you haven't been paying attention, it's a bit of a shock. And I fear this situation will continue for a while longer. Sad times.
Monday, May 11, 2009
saturday dance
We went to a dance on Saturday, the first one since our friend Fred died. There was a beautiful picture of him from a past dance camp, looking relaxed and happy, smiling as I remember him.
I dreamed about him sometime this weekend -- not the "I've come back briefly to tell you I'm ok" kind of dream I usually have. In this dream, he was just there, comfortable and happy, ok in his own way, smiling, part of the whole. The dream was reassuring in any case, and I suppose it did make me feel slightly better in the end.
I dreamed about him sometime this weekend -- not the "I've come back briefly to tell you I'm ok" kind of dream I usually have. In this dream, he was just there, comfortable and happy, ok in his own way, smiling, part of the whole. The dream was reassuring in any case, and I suppose it did make me feel slightly better in the end.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
BSOD
A few days ago, I transferred the presentations from last week's conference. I copied them from a thumb drive onto my computer. Somehow it occurred to me to install Internet Explorer 8 onto my system while I was mucking around. The install caused a reboot, and then everything came to a halt.
No, not the Blue screen of death (which, truth to tell, I haven't seen in ages), but something worse -- the BLACK screen of death. The incredibly obscure error message said that some acronymy file couldn't be found -- press any key to reboot. I pressed a lot of keys, causing the same message to repeat over and over.
I decided to stop trying and waited for Robert to come home.
Turns out that my computer was set up a little oddly. It was trying to restart in this order:
My prince in shining armor rearranged the "boot order," calm was restored, and my computer resumed its usual behavior. Phew.
So why do they make things so hard? If I ran the world, that error message would have said something like "cannot find an acronymy file on USB drive 3," which would have at least sent me in the right direction. And maybe with a little more thought I could design a message that would make even more sense. How about: "Looking on USB drive 3 for [file]. Would you like me to try the CD? No? How about the hard drive?" How hard would that be? D'oh!
No, not the Blue screen of death (which, truth to tell, I haven't seen in ages), but something worse -- the BLACK screen of death. The incredibly obscure error message said that some acronymy file couldn't be found -- press any key to reboot. I pressed a lot of keys, causing the same message to repeat over and over.
I decided to stop trying and waited for Robert to come home.
Turns out that my computer was set up a little oddly. It was trying to restart in this order:
- Look on the USB ports for attached drives and use the files on the drives to restart.
- Look in the CD drives for disks and use the files on the CD to restart.
- Look in the hard disk in the normal place and restart.
My prince in shining armor rearranged the "boot order," calm was restored, and my computer resumed its usual behavior. Phew.
So why do they make things so hard? If I ran the world, that error message would have said something like "cannot find an acronymy file on USB drive 3," which would have at least sent me in the right direction. And maybe with a little more thought I could design a message that would make even more sense. How about: "Looking on USB drive 3 for [file]
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
florida, conference, and other doings
Last week, I went to a conference in Florida both to learn new stuff and to make a presentation. I arranged my travel so that I'd have a little vacation while I was there.
Where was I?
I was in St. Petersburg, a town with tremendous wealth, tremendous poverty, and a lot of (human) snowbirds. It's a very pretty town on a large bay. I stayed in a friendly bed and breakfast in a neighborhood that was constructed in the 1920s, at least according to the stamps in the concrete sidewalks.
What was the conference about?
The conference was related to software tools and techniques I use at work. Some of the leading architects and thinkers in the industry were there and available for chats. The talks centered around how to start using the tools and get the best use out of them.
I learned some helpful tips about using the tools that we have, tips that will help alleviate some of those annoying issues my work team faces, the kind of problems that are "nibbling us to death."
How'd my talk go?
My talk was about how my team at work determined that we needed a piece of software and selected it in eleven weeks. Most people take one to two years to make the selection. I talked about how we formed the team, how we figured out what we needed, and gave some specific examples of documents we produced along the way.
A handful of people who attended the talk were incredibly kind and a few said it was the best talk of the conference. One person said it made the entire conference worthwhile.
I was also pleased with how it went. I was not nearly as nervous this time as I was a few years ago when I made my first conference presentation. I'm still not super relaxed in front of a large audience, though I'm getting better at it. I thought I was clear and that I handled questions well.
So I was happy in the end and I'd do it again.
What else did I do?
St. Petersburg is compact enough that I decided to go car free. I walked for miles. There was a triathlon the second day I was there, and I watched the runners. What an impressive accomplishment for them!
I saw lots of unusual animals, including three dolphins swimming close to a sea wall. The large shore birds -- pelicans, herons, egrets -- were incredibly calm and allowed me to get quite close. There were also many tiny squirrels, not shy either.
I took advantage of the museums and gardens there and went to:
I ate well and had company every night for dinner.
Travel was smooth and uneventful -- the best kind. I even had an empty seat next to me on both airplane flights.
So an exhausting trip, but a very good one. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to go.
Where was I?
I was in St. Petersburg, a town with tremendous wealth, tremendous poverty, and a lot of (human) snowbirds. It's a very pretty town on a large bay. I stayed in a friendly bed and breakfast in a neighborhood that was constructed in the 1920s, at least according to the stamps in the concrete sidewalks.
What was the conference about?
The conference was related to software tools and techniques I use at work. Some of the leading architects and thinkers in the industry were there and available for chats. The talks centered around how to start using the tools and get the best use out of them.
I learned some helpful tips about using the tools that we have, tips that will help alleviate some of those annoying issues my work team faces, the kind of problems that are "nibbling us to death."
How'd my talk go?
My talk was about how my team at work determined that we needed a piece of software and selected it in eleven weeks. Most people take one to two years to make the selection. I talked about how we formed the team, how we figured out what we needed, and gave some specific examples of documents we produced along the way.
A handful of people who attended the talk were incredibly kind and a few said it was the best talk of the conference. One person said it made the entire conference worthwhile.
I was also pleased with how it went. I was not nearly as nervous this time as I was a few years ago when I made my first conference presentation. I'm still not super relaxed in front of a large audience, though I'm getting better at it. I thought I was clear and that I handled questions well.
So I was happy in the end and I'd do it again.
What else did I do?
St. Petersburg is compact enough that I decided to go car free. I walked for miles. There was a triathlon the second day I was there, and I watched the runners. What an impressive accomplishment for them!
I saw lots of unusual animals, including three dolphins swimming close to a sea wall. The large shore birds -- pelicans, herons, egrets -- were incredibly calm and allowed me to get quite close. There were also many tiny squirrels, not shy either.
I took advantage of the museums and gardens there and went to:
- Sunken Gardens, a botanical garden
- Salvador Dali museum
- the Museum of Fine Arts, which I especially enjoyed
I ate well and had company every night for dinner.
Travel was smooth and uneventful -- the best kind. I even had an empty seat next to me on both airplane flights.
So an exhausting trip, but a very good one. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to go.
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