Morning Musings...

I keep reminding myself that tomorrow is Friday. Sometimes, that's all it takes to get going in the mornings on a Thursday. Today, it's not quite enough but it helps.

My Thursday is off to one of those starts. I was already running late due to my ambitious attempts to get a loaf of bread baking in my breadmaker so it's ready by the time I get home from work for dinner. I have a horrid feeling it's not going to turn out. Try as I might to keep the liquids and yeast separated, there was a slight tidal wave incident as I was pouring in my olive oil and the yeast got soaked by that and the water.

Traffic was not fun this morning either. It meant I made it into the office eight minutes later than usual. My coworker had beaten me in to the office; this rarely happens. While many days, she's a lot of fun, she's also one of those people whose mood you can sense when you walk into the office based on how she responds when you say "Good Morning!"

Today was not a chipper response. Today was one of those, "talk to me again and I'll rip your throat out" responses. It's not that she's not a morning person but she's a person whose agenda and duties rank way higher in her own mind than they do in anyone elses' and so there are days when she's far too busy and important to deign to speak to me or our other office-mate. Usually, these are the days where we remain quiet and don't speak because she's a little scary. I don't mean that I'm actually physically afraid of her, it's more that to rile the beast is to have to listen to it and we do not like to do that.

She's also a little, um, noisy. She does not know this. On any given morning, there is the jangle of a bracelet on a keyboard, heavy sighing, the squeak of rubber since she sits on an exercise ball and the frantic, frenetic typing of one who has far too much to type in far too little time.

Of course, as I write this, I'm crunching loudly on a piece of toast. I finally gave in and joined the people who cook in the office. Sometimes, I don't feel like eating my toast while I'm driving in the mornings and today, I figured I might as well join the masses and use the toaster oven in the office. A good choice, I'd say. Having toast at work just makes it a better day.

My crunching toast led to a discussion about toaster ovens vs. toasters. Personally, I concur, toasters are easier. However, we don't have one in the office. We do, however, have a toaster oven. My coworker thinks it takes too long. To that, I say, "it's toast, it's worth the wait." Also, it's not like I'm standing there staring at it. I put it in the oven, walk away and when it tings, there's my toast. Voila!

Ok, so it doesn't pop up but, instead, is waiting for me in the oven which means it actually stays warmer for longer.

I think it might just be that lately, I've learned, sometimes it's better to take your time over food preparation and enjoy the process than just throw something in the microwave.

I blame the Food Network.

Of course, I blame them lately for everything food-related. It's almost like I've undergone a "Foodie Conversion." I still have the Lipton fettucine alfredo mix in my cupboard to remind me of how far I've come in a year. A year ago, I added margarine and butter to my soggy noodles and, voila, fettucini alfredo.

I'm not enough of a food snob that I still won't make this. Quick food has a time and a place and sometimes, it's all you want.

Yet, no more do I reach for the Lipton when I'm craving Alfredo and don't want to spend the money to go out. Mario Batali has shown me that with four simple ingredients, I can make delicious fettucine alfredo.

Bobby Flay has shown me that sometimes, the sauce makes the meal. You can dress up a piece of meat with a few fresh ingredients by making a sauce that tastes good and is usually nutritious.

Giada deLaurentis has shown me how to make simple italian food with easy ingredients that tastes as good as any restaurant food.

Alton Brown has taught me that breaking down what seems to be complicated methods of cooking is actually quite easy. Also, my Alton Brown salt pot is ridiculously useful.

I could keep going but you get the idea. Celebrity chefs are teaching me to cook and I didn't even plan it.

It's put a whole new dimension on my life. I used to mock my friends who used to go to kitchen stores and admire the tools. Now I go to the same stores and do the same thing. This weekend, I was extremely excited to find a nice potato ricer at TJ Maxx. I also got a new saute pan, some stoneware baking dishes and a new grater.

I'm sad. I'm obsessed. Cooking has become part of my life. I think it's probably filling a void but I don't see anything wrong with that. I'm hoping it's not trying to fill the void that I have because I'm not writing as much. I think that's really up to me though, isn't it?

I have thought about writing about cooking. Not a cookbook but a book about someone who likes to cook. Yet there is already quite a plethora out there. For some reason, there's an excess of books about women who seek fulfillment in life and find it in baking. Occasionally, there's a twist and they actually cook, not bake, but it's usually the result of any of the following:

1)Grief over the death of a beloved husband.
2) A way of finding themselves after the husband has left them for another woman.
3)A hidden love of cooking coming to the forefront as a woman discovers herself
4)An accidental discovery as a side effect of running away and needing to make a living...so they cook and discover they're geniuses at it.

You'd be surprised how much this happens. I've come to the conclusion that while chick lit aimed at the Bridget Jones' of the world tends to put the main character in either PR or a magazine setting, chick lit for the generation above them tends to put a recently divorced/widowed woman in a bakery or restaurant.

Anyway, I think for now, I'll keep my cooking separate from my writing. I can do both...I hope. In the meantime, I'm going to try to get some work done. That is if my coworker stops her jangling/squeaking/sighing/"oh shitting". Either that or I put my headphones on and tune her out.

Headphones it is.

Thanks for reading. Happy Thursday.

Hickory Nut Mystery...Solved!

Well, I think I finally solved the Mystery of the Hickory Nut.

As I suspected, I believe it is a very large grey squirrel.

The reason I suspect the squirrel is that for the last week, I have been finding half-eaten tomatoes scattered across my lawn. I am not happy about this; my tomatoes have taken forever to ripen this year anyway so over the past two weeks, I've slowly been plucking ripe tomatoes off the plant. Thus, when I find half-chewed tomato remnants taunting me on my lawn, I find it slightly irritating.

I also have a larger tomato plant that the nice old lady who lived in my house left me. It has nice, big, green tomatoes on it. Every time I go outside to check to see how they're doing, whether they're ripening, I find a new one with bite marks on it. Thus, I have to throw it away.

I used to like squirrels. When I worked at USC, I had a pet squirrel named Nutley. He would come and eat lunch with me. Actually, he would stalk me as I ate and then, finally, launch himself so that he actually landed on my backpack in which my lunch was stored. The first couple of times, it sort of...um....scared the crap out of me. I finally accepted it; Nutley would seem to wait for me. I finally learned that the only way to stop him actually trying to crawl in my backpack was to appease him with food. He rather enjoyed grapes and cheese puffs best but he didn't say no to cherries either. He just didn't like carrots which was too bad as I always had carrots.

I know; I was really just encouraging him by feeding him but there were a couple of days when he'd be on the ledge behind my head and he attempted to reach over my shoulder to eat my food. Though I appreciated his courage and gutsiness, I also didn't want the fuzzy rodent to actually get that close to me. I may have thought he was cute but I also know that squirrels are a little...uh...germy. So if it meant sacrificing a couple of grapes or cheese puffs in order to stop him divebombing my head, then I could live with that.

Of course, I don't actually know if it was the same Nutley every day. There were a lot of over-tamed squirrels on campus and they all had the same cockiness to them. I just took to calling every squirrel Nutley. It was easier.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I really liked Nutley or I just was afraid of his tendency to lurch at my sandwich. I think I mostly just tolerated him. I wouldn't, say, want to take him home as a pet or anything.

Of course, now I have my own pet squirrel. I caught him in the act on Monday. I looked out my bedroom window and I see something by my tomato plant. There, in broad daylight, was the thieving, chewing squirrel who doesn't even have the courtesy to eat the entire tomato but, instead, leaves partially eaten, fully ripe ones that would have been nice in a salad.

He was bigger than Nutley. I now think him fully capable of carrying a hickory nut. I'm planning on watching him. I've seen him before but it was always in my neighbour's yard, boldly running around the yard even though at any moment, those yappy dogs could come bounding out and chasing him.

Speaking of those yappy dogs, I was outside grilling last night. I'd like to acknowledge that it was the first time I'd ever grilled on my own grill at that house. Sure enough, a few moments after I had gone out to lay my food on the grill, out come the neighbour's dogs followed by by neighbour. He actually said, "You shouldn't be out here!"

I think he said that because it was raining. It had only started to rain after I'd planned to grill and had turned it on. I wasn't about to change my plans. Also, I love rain and see no problem in grilling in the rain.

However, the way it came out was as though I wasn't supposed to be in my own yard because it meant he had to control his dogs. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to be a little rude and I completely ignore him if I'm trying to do stuff outside. Yes, I appreciate his Dog Whisperer attempts to get his rat terrier to stop barking but it is my house, my yard and I go out there to relax. I do not want to have to make awkward conversation every time I go out there. Rant over. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

I digress. Back to the squirrel. I don't quite know how to save my few remaining tomatoes from the jaws of The Squirrel. I'm wondering if the hickory nuts are, perhaps, a barter. Maybe he thinks if he gives me hickory nuts, it's ok for him to snack on my tomatoes. Of course, he does take them back the next day so maybe it's just a loan.

Nevertheless, I am rather relieved that it's just an ornery squirrel and not some crazed lumberjack whose leaving me the hickory nuts as a sign that I'm next on his list to be axed. Of course, maybe a crazed lumberjack wouldn't eat my tomatoes. Maybe he could also take care of those yappy dogs.

I think I'll stick with the squirrel.

Happy Wednesday.

We Are All Worker Bees...

I've come to the inevitable conclusion that when it comes to days off, I'm just plain greedy. I just had a three-day weekend and despite the fact I got a whole extra day off, part of my mind is thinking, "wish I had another day off."

I acknowledge the fact that I should just shut up and be grateful for the fact that I a) just had an extra day and b) have a job to go back to after my three-day weekend.

I can't ignore the fact that I don't want to be at work, however. I can't ignore the fact that outside, it's a grey, oppressive day in which fog hangs thickly over the land, the sky is gloomy and dank and I would much rather be lying in bed being lazy.

However, here I sit at the very start of my workday, waiting for motivation and excitement to kick in.

I think I might be waiting a while for that. I am, after all, at work.

Nevertheless, there isn't a day off for us day labourers until Thanksgiving. That's a long time away from now. I think there's a Columbus Day in October but, alas, my company does not recognize it.

It seems to me that the National Observations/Days Off From Work are a little unevenly spread on corporate calenders. I mean, in November, there's Thanksgiving and usually the Day After Thanksgiving.

In December, there's Christmas, even if you don't really celebrate. This is followed by New Years'. Often, New Years' is followed by Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

Then there's nothing. Nothing really until Memorial Day. Some companies, mine, for example, let us have Good Friday off. To avoid religious implications and controversies, my company calls it "Spring Break Friday". But, really, it's Good Friday.

Nevertheless, there's a really long dry spell during January, February and March in which the long winter months drag on and on because there's nothing to really break them up.

After Memorial Day, the official 'start' of summer, there's Independence Day in the middle of summer. Then there's Labour Day at the official 'end' of summer. I rather like the 'bookmarking' of the seasons. I think perhaps we should have another day for the beginning of Autumn, use Thanksgiving at the middle one and allow Christmas to be an overlap for End of Autumn/Start of Winter.

We need more days in February and March and, perhaps, even April because some companies don't acknowledge Easter at all. Even ONE day in there would be a bonus.

I know, I know, I'm dreaming. If you read my blog on Friday, you've already read my griping about the stinginess of companies and their PTO policies. Thus, it's unlikely that my suggestions for more days off will ever go anywhere.

I can dream, however. There's nothing wrong with that. While I'm at it, I will dream of working for a company in which workers are respected. I think too many companies credit themselves with their benevolence in allowing their employees to have a job. That is the employees reward for working. I agree, in the grand scheme of things, there is a template for the workplace:

1) Employee gets a job.
2) Employee shows up to work and works.
3) Employee benefits company.
4) In exchange, Employee gets a paycheck.

Now, in a simple world and, in the world of business logic, this is the normal model for a company. The receiving of a paycheck should be reward enough for work.

The problem is, this is a different world, a different generation than when that model was developed.

There are days when I think of the Days of Yore in which children left school at fourteen and went to the factories or homes where they'd become servants. Those days, working wasn't something you got to contemplate, ponder, consider...it was something you just did. Kids worked, parents worked until they couldn't. It was the only way to support a family. Every penny mattered.

I read a lot of books, a lot of Thomas Hardy, a lot of Charles Dickens, even more recent novels in which the caste system of society was dependent on if working was an option or not. If you were rich, it wasn't necessary to seek employment. You got to ride on your horse all day, take care of matters of the Manor, talk to your stewards, arrange fancy dinners. If you were less rich, you usually worked but had a position of honour, a doctor, a lawyer, something that required education.

If you had little or no money, there was no education. There was only work. There was only employment to bring in a paycheck. There was no leisurely job seeking, there was the interviewing for a position and hoping you got it because it meant money coming in.

So, yes, I confess, when I think of the Days of Yore and I whine about my job, I feel bad. I have a job. I have a job which I essentially chose. I've changed jobs many times to find one that fit. I have a steady paycheck, steady weekends and a regular schedule.

And still....I complain.

However, I stand by what I said before about living in a different world and a different generation to the Days of Yore. This is a different era. It's an era in which the Western World has been allowed to become free. Yes, there is always going to be a class system in which the rich folk hold the power but it's also a world where anyone can become one of those rich people. It's a world in which we are permitted to choose a job that suits us. If we don't like it, we can leave.

There's the rub. That's become a refrain for employers, "If you don't like it, leave." It's a way of threatening employees, of making them remember their place in the world. They're only a worker bee. They need their job and if they don't act like a worker bee, that job might be taken away.

I argue with this threat. Granted, it's harder in an economy where we are grateful to have a job. It's also different depending on what field you're in, what position you hold. I can only speak for myself.

I work for a small company that develops products and then tries to sell it. Our products are ones that takes creativity, intelligence and skill to develop, test, enhance and release. We employees are all skilled in our respective area and we want to do a good job.

Yet on a day-by-day basis, sometimes it feels like I'm trapped in a cage. In a strange way, it's akin to being on a production line. Each day is the same, I am a prisoner of my responsibilities.

The problem is my responsibilities are dull. I've tried to change it...to no avail. There's never any time for new projects, new ways of spicing up a dull routine.

The sad thing is I'm not the only one who feels this way. There's a general hang-dog pall that often hangs over the office; no amount of Awkward Bagel Days and Forced Social Interaction can help. Our Management tends to feel that we are lucky to have jobs and that we're whining if we grumble or complain about things in the workplace.

I can't help but see it from a worker bee point of view. They need us. We are the ones that keep the work flowing. Sure, Management is necessary but without us, they'd have nothing to manage.

There are companies that have 'rolled with the changes' of a society that can choose where they work. Most of them or software companies or technology companies that recognize that the old Business Model of "Workers get a Paycheck and Shouldn't Need Job Satisfaction" is defunct. They give their employees incentives for staying at their jobs. I'm not talking about money because, as I've proved by my job-hopping over the years, money isn't as important to me as enjoying my job.

And this is recognized by companies like Google, Atlassian, Pixar...companies that need their employees to stay sharp, stay loyal and give back. It's not about money anymore. Yes, that's the driving force that inspires most of us to work in the first place. However, there's another element to it: Enjoying how you earn that paycheck.

So these companies have found ways to get their employees to give back by helping them enjoy their jobs. These companies have fun working environments with places for employees to go to brainstorm, bounce ideas off one another, have fun. This is as simple as a ping pong table where employees can go to take out frustrations. They have hours in which employees can work on individual projects because it inspires creativity. They make the company a fun place to work because they recognize that humans aren't as productive if they have to put their nose to the grindstone for 8-hours a day with no break from routine.

These companies don't make the employees feel bad if they do play ping-pong at work or take a break to do something else. It's part of the perks of working for the company.

That's the key word: Perks. It can be as simple as free soda or as complicated as having a game room where employees can go when the work isn't flowing.

It doesn't matter. It's not about what the perks are, it's about companies recognizing that perks are necessary to keep the worker bees happy and make them give back as much as they can. It's a way of letting your employees know that they are appreciated for more than the fact that they're a body with motor functions. It's a way of letting the employees thrive in an environment that isn't a necessary cage, only a way of earning a paycheck.

I'm a dreamer. I'm an idealist. These things I know. I'm also an employee and a human and I know what makes me work best. I need variety, creativity and freedom in my job. When I don't get this, I feel like I need to look elsewhere. When the economy sucks, I'm trapped. When I'm trapped, I know it and my workflow slows. It's a vicious cycle.

Once again, I've managed to blog about something of which I had no intention of blogging. It just slipped out. I know my dreams are lofty but all I'm really asking for is for mutual respect between employees and employers.

I also know I'm being horribly tactless to those who have lost or might be losing their jobs; a fact for which I apologize. I have no right to whine about being bored when, again, at least I have a job. Yet, what I'm really writing about is a world that is NOT suffering from a crappy economy and which jobs are plentiful and easy to come by. I know it's the not the world in which I currently live but it's ok to dream...right?

Happy Monday.

Long Weekends and the Need for Days Off...

I'm glad it's Friday today. I'm even more glad that it's the Friday before a long weekend. It's a happy/sad sort of weekend because while it does last three days, Labour does, typically, mean the end of summer.

I said a few months ago that summer is my least favourite season. That hasn't changed. I still prefer the colder months of the Autumn, the warming trend of Spring and, of course, the snow covered days of Winter.

Yet that is not to say I haven't enjoyed Summer. Granted, it's been a busy one for me with trips to Washington D.C., San Diego and Las Vegas. There's also that whole buying-a-house-thing, not to mention the trips to visit my family. Thus, the summer months have flown by with only time to snatch at moments, even the luxury of hours to call purely my own. I've managed to get a lot done in my house in a short time. I've managed to find time to see my family. I've even managed to keep my grass to a reasonable length even though the inevitability of having to mow makes me groan.

Yet now Summer is winding down, I can't help but hope it means life will slow a little too. It's going by too fast. The older you get, the fast life moves. I've mentioned it before but I miss the days of school where you count down until summer and the lazy, unstructured days drift by slowly until the last week when, suddenly, time is moving twice as fast as normal and the threat of structure approaches.

In those school days, however, there are marked breaks, countdown targets- Fall Break, Thanksgiving, Christmas vacation, Spring Break, Summer Break. It's not that you don't get days off when you're working but it's not the same. Most of the time, you have to fight to take the Friday off after Thanksgiving unless your company is generous. Fortunately, the company I work for is nice enough to count that as part of the Thanksgiving Break. Yet the other breaks, the summer vacation...we don't get those.

We could get those but each day off must be accounted for with PTO- the dreaded "Paid Time Off".

You'd think PTO would be a wonderful thing, a little gift in the middle of a mundane week. It is...to an extent. Yet as a fairly new employee, it accumulates rather slowly. When you only get one day per month, it doesn't add up fast. It looks rather nice to have five days displayed on your paystub. It's rather like having a nice healthy bank account. Yet the minute you spend it, it's like spending gold. You debate it, you run it through your mind, you mentally calculate whether it's a smart choice to take a day off or not.

The worst part is when the PTO is representative of both sick time and vacation time. At our company, there is no difference. You take PTO regardless of if you're going to Hawaii or if you're suffering from the flu. It's a nice, easy policy but, naturally, it's not without its problems.

You see, when people are low on PTO time, they don't want to take time off. Thus, when they don't feel well, they'd rather drag themselves to the office and suffer through the day than have to deduct a day from their fragile accumulation.

You can see the problem with this, right? Yes...for certain periods of the year, the office becomes an Incubator of Disease. All it takes in a small company like this is for some poor suffering employee who is low on PTO to come into the office and cough and sneeze. Lo and behold, the next day, two more people are coughing and sneezing. A week later, almost the entire company is sick.

I know it's not just my company. It happens everywhere. It's happened in virtually every job I've had. I had one job at a hospital in which you were actually docked if you took time off. You would accumulate points for every lateness, every sick day, every sick hour. If you missed any time, you'd get points. Too many points in a month and you were on probabation. If you already had a probation and you got more points, that was it...you were gone.

Can you see this problem with this? It was a hospital, a place where people go to get well. When the employees are walking around like zombies because they have the flu, guess where that flu is going to go. Yes....everywhere.

I understand the need for companies to be at their maximum productivity all the time. Without employees, companies lose money. Unfortunately, what I've never understood is that isn't it better to have a day or two with only a few employees missing than have weeks of slowed productivity because everyone is sick?

My problem is that I think with common sense. Even when I type that sentence, I laugh at myself. I pride myself on being a little odd, thinking outside of the box because that's where I tend to live. It doesn't mean I don't have common sense, however. Even I can see that giving employees a little more sick time will encourage them to, you know, stay home when they're sick.

I can hear the voice of Management in my head: "If we give them more sick time, they'll just pretend to be sick and take time off. Then, when they're really sick, they'll still come in. It does no good."

To this, I say....perhaps. Yes, there are employees who call in sick when they're not. There are employees with children who have to take sick time to take care of them. Then, they run out of sick time, catch the illness from the children and bring it to the office.

I get that. I get the logic behind restricting sick time. It doesn't mean I like it. It also doesn't mean I'm not sensitive enough to think that sometimes, you have to take a chance and cut your losses in order to do something that's 'right.' Yes, employees will take sick days, they'll take "Mental Health Days" and not come into work.

You know what I say to this? Let them. I speak from experience when I say sometimes taking a Mental Health Day is necessary. There are times when you haven't had a day off for weeks. Weekends don't count because usually they're so jam packed that relaxion is put on the back burner. You work all day and you get to the point where you just feel like you're not getting anything done because you feel trapped. That's where Mental Health Days come in. Sometimes that's all you need to recharge. They're days when you stay home, watch stuff you've had recorded on your DVR for months, read a trashy book...basically, you do nothing.

Everyone needs those days. We're human. There's only so long you can go without taking time to think, to relax before you feel like the world is spinning out of control.

In one job I had, we had "personal days", these could be used whenever, without having to give notice. The boss I had was a strong endorser of Mental Health Days. She was a good manager because she understood that sometimes taking one day to recuperate meant more productivity in the long run than not missing a day at all.

I can see why Management in most companies don't like letting employees take advantage of them by calling in sick when they're not sick. Thus, that's one of the strategies in limiting PTO. Yet, that's looking at the half-empty glass. In most companies for every one 'slacker', there's five people who make up for it. If there's nothing but slackers, well, honestly, in that case, I'd say to Management that they need to take a strong look at the way they run their company. You should never have a company full of people who can't be bothered to work. If you do...something's wrong.

Anyway, I digress. It's Labour Day weekend. It's the last long weekend before the nights get a little longer and the leaves start turning their beautiful colours. It's the last long weekend to enjoy the summer and celebrate its rewards. I, for one, am looking forward to it even if it's not going to be particularly productive. I'm heading to my parents which means no time for working at home but it doesn't matter. There'll be plenty of time for that in the future.

Happy Labour Day.

Suburban Life...

It feels like a Thursday today; it's a taunting day that lets you know that it's almost the weekend but it isn't here yet. We still have another day to go, another day before we can forgot the responsibility of work and spend three days in peaceful laziness.

I still haven't solved the mystery of the hickory nuts. When I got home from work last night, the nut was gone. I noticed that my grill cover has little tiny cuts in it. I'm choosing, for now, to believe these are almost like the marks of grapple hooks, that they belong to the paws of a squirrel.

I've been assured, you see, by several folks that a squirrel is strong enough to carry a hickory nut onto my grill as well as balance on the little ledge.

I hope this is the case because otherwise whoever left me the hickory nut rudely took it away again. That's not very nice.

I didn't see any more nuts last night. I'm bound and determined to keep my eyes peeled for more.

I did, however, see my neighbour's dogs last night. I'm getting to the point where I dislike those dogs a lot. I cannot go into my yard without them going ballistic and barking like crazy. My neighbour now awkwardly attempts to solve the problem by picking up the yappiest dog and holding it up for me to pet. While I salute his attempts to do something about the issue, this means I have to politely make conversation with him while petting the dog. He's not much of a conversationalist so...it's awkward.

Sometimes, I do not want to pet the dog. Sometimes, I want to just go into my yard, water my plants and ignore my neighbour. I know he's trying to solve the problem so I'm trying to do my part.

The problem is those dogs bark all the time and it doesn't seem to matter if I'm inside or out. If they hear my TV through my bedroom window which faces onto their house, they bark. If they see me in my family room moving around, they bark. If I step outside to take out the rubbish...they bark.

You get the idea. I was hoping that they'd get used to me over time. Instead, they only seem to be getting louder.

I suppose, in a way, if I am being stalked by a Crazed Lumberjack, it's probably good that those dogs are there. Maybe they'll scare him away. At the very least, maybe their barking will irritate him.

On the plus side, that bunny that seems to like eating my lawn has found a way to avoid the dogs. He aligns himself with my tool shed, which means the dogs can't see him. Then he lies down and just nibbles the grass. I'm quite fond of that bunny now. He does seem to be doing his part to keep the grass mowed for me. I appreciate that more than he knows.

It's interesting to watch my lawn. The growth rate has definitely slowed; this is a fact for which I am most appreciative. I still need to mow but not quite so frantically as before. I probably should mow before I take off for my parents for the weekend. Otherwise, it's likely I'll come back and have a mini grass-forest to take have to mow. I find it fascinating how much more my grass grows when I'm gone than when I'm living there.

I also think I might have a mole living in my garden. I keep finding holes in my lawn that look like burrow holes. Ever since The Wind in the Willows, I've wanted a mole. I find them quite adorable. Thus, so far, I don't mind having a mole. I've heard they're not good. They even have mole killer in Lowe's. I don't think I could kill a mole. It seems mean. I've already made him homeless. My grass clipping pile had burrow holes on either side and last weekend I cleared it away. I have a horrible feeling something was living there. Thankfully, I didn't come across it while I was scooping up the grass. I'm quite glad about that. I tend to be a squealer when something freaks me out and even if it was a little mole, I probably would have squealed. Then that would have made the dogs bark. Which means I'd have to go talk to my neighbour and pet the dog.

Living in suburbia is interesting.

Happy Wednesday.

The Mystery of the Hickory Nuts...

I have a mystery to solve.

It involves hickory nuts.

As you know, I recently bought my own house. I'm still getting used to being a homeowner but I'm slowly getting the hang of it...I think.

My yard was tree-less when I moved in. Last September, a couple of weeks before I moved, Ohio was hit with some massive wind-storms. There was a lot of damage to trees all over the part of the state in which I live. My current backyard did have two trees in it but they had to be chopped down because of the damage to them as did my neighbour's trees. Thus, my garden had absolutely no trees in it until Saturday on which day, I changed that by planting a little Japanese cherry tree.

I did have two trees on the strip of grass in front of my house. It's between the sidewalk pavement and the road and everyone in our neighbourhood is responsible for mowing this strip of grass. In my grass strip were two rather nice maple trees. They may not really be maple since I'm prone to only recognizing trees when they either have fruit on them or they still have the tag from the nursery where they were purchased on them. Yet, for the purpose of this blog, they're maple trees.

One day, a couple of weeks ago, I came home from work. I was talking to my mother on the phone and I looked out the front window. Something looked different. I slowly realized one of my trees was gone. It wasn't an old tree; it had only been planted a couple of weeks ago. Yet...there it was...gone...with only a stump remaining.

Naturally, I was baffled. I know that tree had been there when I'd left for work. Yet there were no traces of sawdust, no twigs, no fallen branches. It was just...gone.

I went to check out the stump. There were no clues.

I began to suspect that perhaps there was a Tree Serial Killer around, a crazed lumberjack who chopped down trees like a phantom so that all that remained was a stump.

I tested my theory on a coworker who has little time for my imagination. Thus, she suggested that I contact the City where I live and find out.

I decided that might not be a bad idea. So I emailed them, giving them my Crazed Lumberjack theory as a possible explanation. I got a polite reply that did not mention a lumberjack at all. Instead, the City Tree Person said that my tree had been damaged in the wind-storm last year and had been tagged for chopping for a while. Unfortunately, the nice lady who lived in my house before me forgot to mention that. Thus, while it may look like my tree was randomly taken, it was, in fact, scheduled to be removed.

While I was happy to find out the answer, I was a little sad that the mystery had such a simple solution.

However, I'm both pleased and a little scared to report I might have another mystery on my hands, as I mentioned in my blog opening: The Mystery of the Appearing Hickory Nuts.

For those non-nut-knowing folk, a hickory nut begins in this rather large green husk, the size of a tennis ball. When they're ripe, the husks split as the nuts fall from the tree, releasing the nuts. When they're unripe, they remain in their green tennis-ball-form, unable to be opened without force and great mess.

Last week, I was outside watering my plants when I noticed a hickory nut that was sitting in the very corner of my house on a little ledge that runs around the side of my house. It's only about two inches wide, large enough upon which to sit a hickory nut but not large enough that a squirrel could scurry around upon it. I knew that hickory nut hadn't been there before because I often go for a walk outside and look around that area to make sure there aren't any scary spiders. That night, there weren't any spiders...just a green-yellow unripe hickory nut.

Scenerios ran in my mind as to how that nut got there but I finally dismissed it, throwing the nut back into my weed patch and deciding not to worry about it unless another nut appeared.

This weekend, when I weeded, I found that nut in my geraniums and I tossed it towards the end of my yard. I tried to locate the hickory tree from which it must have fallen but I'm still not sure which tree that might be. See comment above regarding my recognition of trees.

I didn't give that hickory nut much thought again. I'd talked myself into thinking that perhaps that nut really had sat in the corner of my ledge the entire time I'd been living in my house and I hadn't noticed it.

Until last night.

I was in my kitchen, making tortilla soup and relaxing. I like making soup because it involves lots of chopping and I love to chop. I happen to glance out my window.

There, on the grill I had just moved to my deck, sat a green hickory nut.

Now, while I'd like to think there's a very muscular, very agile squirrel out there who can somehow climb onto the grill even though it's not anchored anywhere, I admit...I'm a little dubious about that theory.

My problem is that I watch too much television, too many movies and read too many books. My imagination has gone a little wild.

Firstly, I thought of some weird witchcraft. That's what I get for watching The Blair Witch Project fairly recently. In that movie, the Blair Witch Evil Thing leaves twigs outside the victim's tents. Then they die.

I'm hoping that hickory nut isn't like those twigs. That would be bad.

I looked up the meaning of a hickory nut. Apparently, it doesn't have much meaning. After much digging, I did discover that the Druids and wiccan folk believe that the hickory nut is linked to abundance, wholeness, power, presence, command, discipline, acquisition, giving of gifts, and the finding of direction.

Well, it'd be nice to find some direction, I admit. I'm just not sure how, exactly, a mystery hickory nut is going to help me find that.

Then again, it also represents a giving of gifts. Maybe someone is leaving me hickory nuts as a gift.

I even entertained the idea that the bunny that I see on my lawn every day is leaving the nuts. Naturally, the logical thought that bunnies can't climb followed shortly after. I did think for a brief moment how nice it would be if the bunny was really some prince or hero in disguise and the hickory nuts were a clue for how I could release him. That only lasted 30 seconds. I might have a vivid imagination but I'm also a realist. I'm not sure how heroic a prince might be after spending at least a couple of months hiding under my tool shed and enjoying a night snack on my lawn.

Still, despite all the ideas I came up with, I really don't have a good one for the hickory nuts that are appearing. As it got darker, I started to have a little less bravado and a little scarier thoughts. People are weird. The only way those nuts could really have got there was if a human put them there. What if that Crazed Lumberjack was not as fictional as I thought? What if someone was coming into my yard while I slept? This thought is particularly scary when you're lying in the dark, the house creaking a little because it's old with the windows open to let in the cool air. I have a one-level house. My bedroom window is right beside that grill where I found the second hickory nut.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well. I had horrid dreams. I made sure my blinds were closed but I still felt paranoid, in case someone really was out there.

This morning, naturally, I feel a little silly for having such an overactive imagination. When I looked out of the window at the dark dawn outside, all I saw in the twilight was that bunny, having his breakfast by eating the grass at the base of my new tree. There was no lumberjack, no creature lurking in the shadows that I could see.

The hickory nut was still there.

That, at least, I hadn't imagined.

I'm sure there's a logical explanation for it. I just can't come up with one. I'll let you know if another one appears. Or if the Crazed Lumberjack shows up. Or it's a new Blair Witch. Or if the bunny turns out to be more than a bunny.

In the meantime, I think I should probably control my imagination a little better. It might make sleep easier.

But if you can come up with a theory for me on how these nuts are getting where they're getting, I'd appreciate it.

Happy Wednesday.

Simple Manners

Yesterday, we had another Awkward Bagel Meeting at work. This is because we had a new person starting and my boss brought in the bagels. This time, at least, he did introduce the new person but Bagel Day still evolved into "Staff Crowding into Conference Room and Talking to Their Friends." I don't really mind; it gave me time to talk to my friend and not have to work for a half-hour.

Yet it did occur to me that, as a group, we're a wee bit rude. Fortunately, this time, the new person has actually worked for our company before- prior to my starting here- and so he knows mostly everyone.

I hate being rude. I don't know if it's a British thing or just the fact that I've been raised by a good mother but I'm horribly conscious of bad manners. Yet, there are days, particularly Awkward Bagel Days in which I find myself slipping into the bad manners of those around me by ignoring the new person and chatting to my friends at work.

To be fair, if it's someone I know I'll be working with directly, I do try to converse with them, to get to know them. Yet if it's someone I know who will be only a peripheral in my workday, it's easier for me to ignore them. Sometimes, I'd like to be ruder to people but I have the hardest time with that because if I am even slightly rude, I feel guilty about it for the rest of the day.

I'm noticing more and more that manners are flexible things, changeable things. There are manners while driving, manners while talking, manners while on the cell phone...everything has an etiquette to it.

For example, this morning, I had to get on the interstate, as usual. My entrance onto it has been under construction ever since I moved. I'm used to it but it's still a little tricky. When I get on the interstate, I'm forced into a short lane that merges with the far right lane. If I can't get over into the real lane, I have to sit.

Most mornings, it's not hard. People tend to be kind and move over to let me in. This morning, I didn't have that luck. I had to stop in the temporary lane until a car had passed and I could get over. I hate having to do that, especially when the car that blocked me could easily have gone into the other lane. Instead, they ignored me and blocked me.

It's a small thing but it speaks volumes about that driver's view of the world. To me, driving is one of the simplest ways to express manners. You can be a good defensive driver and still be polite. If someone is 'stuck', it's nice to be generous and let them cut in front of you. However, if that person cuts you off in an attempt to get ahead of you, you shouldn't let them in.

I know, I know...driving manners are skewered to a driver's preference. Me, personally, I try to be a polite driver but I have no tolerance for rudeness. If you tailgate me, I will slow down and make you go ten miles per hour slower than we were going before. If you try to cut me off, I will speed up to make sure you don't get to do so. If I see you trying to get into a line of cars that's been sitting there a while by taking a 'shortcut', I will not let you in. You have to wait like everyone else. It's amazing how much of a 'code' you develop as a driver, the more years you do it.

Driving in Ohio is different from driving in L.A. There are different 'tricks' here. For example, in L.A., if you're on the freeway and you need to merge over during rush hour, the easiest way to do it is to find a big semi in the lane next to you. When traffic begins to move after being stopped, that semi takes a lot longer to accelerate and thus will leave a gap between it and the car in front. In Ohio, those semi-trucks go on the interstates but rather than the stop-and-go traffic of L.A., the interstates tend to move consistently at 60-75 mph. Unless there's significant space, it's a bad idea to try and cut in front of a semi here because once they get going at 70 mph, they can't stop that quickly.

It's just interesting to see how the manners of driving change in different regions. Since I work close to a college campus, it means cutting through campus to get to work in the mornings. There are rules of driving that pertain to pedestrians and I hold no qualms about admitting that I've made them up myself. Case in point: Students are dumb. I don't care how good their grades are, how many scholarships they earned, what rank in their class they hold: College students are dumb. Every morning as I attempt to weave my way through town while attempting to avoid as many of these students as possible, I inevitably have to pull some tricky driving maneuver to avoid hitting one.

Throughout town, there are a lot of crosswalks. These are clearly marked by horizontal stripes across the road. There's not really even any words to read. Each morning, I see at least one student who decides to cross the road without using a crosswalk. The sad thing is they assume that we drivers are going to know they're just going to walk out into traffic. The sadder part is that nine times out of ten, they choose to jaywalk within ten feet of a crosswalk.

Here's the thing: If I see a crosswalk, I instinctively look to see if there's anyone waiting to cross. If they're waiting, it means the student isn't quite so dumb because they intelligently assume that not all drivers are going to want to stop. So they wait for the ones that do stop. I get a little more irritated with the students who just assume everyone will stop and they just step into the street without looking.

These students are silly. However, they are, at least, using a crosswalk.

The ones I have no patience for are the ones who, as I said, decide to cross the street when there is a crosswalk within glancing distance. Yes, there are times when you need to cross the road and the nearest crossing is a block or two away. Jaywalking is understandable in this situation, provided it's done responsibly. This means looking and making sure it's clear before you cross. Playing Frogger with cars in a small town like this is just stupid. However, if you can see the crossing out of the corner of your eye, it's just plain lazy to not walk towards it and use it to cross. Seriously, it's less than ten feet away.

Of course, I'm not even factoring in the texters/phone-talkers. The phone-talkers are slightly more up on the evolutionary scale than texters although they both rank in the not-so-bright category of street manners. It is possible to talk on the phone AND make sure you don't walk into traffic. If you're so engrossed in your conversation you forget that a car moving at 35 mph will hurt you if it hits you, perhaps you ought to sit down and not move while you finish the conversation. As for the texters...well, those students need a good slap over the head with a shoe. I confess, I have walked and texted. It's easy to do. I just DON'T DO IT WHEN WALKING INTO TRAFFIC.

Sorry. I almost hit one of those yesterdays. He was one of those dopey looking students with the messy hair and tight jeans. He was texting, very focused on his digital conversation when he stepped into the street. My light was green. He had a big "Don't WALK" hand as his traffic signal. I had to stop, suddenly. He blinked at me as though he'd just woken up.

As I said, students are dumb. It means that my Theory of Driving Manners goes out the window when I'm near the campus. It's hard to be polite when you're dodging students who appear out of nowhere.

I digress. As usual. Back to the original topic...manners. I could go on about this for hours since they effect every aspect of life. I'm no Miss Manners but I am a human and I can't help but think there are times when manners should be instinctive. Yet we're all different so maybe I should take that into consideration.

Then again, I've been to the DMV a fair amount this year. Perhaps we're not all human after all.

That would explain so much.

Happy Tuesday.