queen of procrastination

Yesterday's procrastination techniques included several outdoor excursions to see what's blooming. Can you blame me?



I mean, it sure beats what I end up doing when I'm stuck inside:

it's so nice to be needed.

[to me, with sarcasm]: "I'm so glad you came home..."

[and then, on a serious note]: "Well, I am glad you came home. I was hungry."

I hear the secrets that you keep...

...when you're talking in your sleep.

Saturday night we went to our friend Crysanthemum's birthday party, and of course I consumed a good amount of wine. After sleeping through the hour-long drive home, I pretty much crawled right into bed when we got back into the house.

I must've managed to get into an interesting state of sleep by the time J came up to bed, because as he was fiddling with his new iPod alarm clock I asked him, apparently very clearly, "What kind of expertise in abstract patterns do you need right now"?

Thank god he had the sense to write my question down. This is the first time any sleep-talking on my part has been documented, and I was as puzzled by the content of my ramblings as J was. The funniest part to me was that the next day he was telling me about this with the expectation that I might be able to explain what the hell I'd been talking about.

Goodbye Kurt.

"Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be."

"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why."

"I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different."

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center."

"If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you're a one-eyed man in a kingdom of the blind."

"The universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest."

Kurt Vonnegut is one of my favorite authors of all time, and he passed away yesterday. I think it's time for me to go back and re-read his books. If you've never read any Vonnegut, you don't know what you're missing. Click here and enjoy.

I love you but now you must die.

I really, really like bugs. I enjoy looking under rocks to see what kind of bugs I might find. In most cases, if I find a spider in the house, I am more likely to catch it and release it outdoors than to squash it (exceptions: if it's night and the spider is in my bedroom, or if it is in the shower with me). As a kid, I dug up worms and twirled them around the axles of my upside-down plastic shopping cart to play "worm circus". I once caught a praying mantis and kept it in a cage. I don't freak out when a bee is flying near me in the yard.

There are only a couple of bugs that I actively dislike. Silverfish, because they are just gross, and earwigs because they are both gross and scary. To me, the worst horror movie ever would involve an invasion of giant earwigs. In our old house last year, we had a big earwig problem and I was thoroughly creeped out.

Now, because I am a geeky scientist and also a bug lover, I happen to be really

fascinated by social insects, and ants are some of my favorites. A lone ant can do some pretty cool stuff, but as a group, an ant colony is capable of amazing things. Leaf cutter ants are probably my personal favorite--they forage for leaves, which they bring back to their nests not to eat, but to use as a medium for growing fungus, which they do eat. This means that leaf-cutter ants have developed agriculture--they actively grow their own food. Pretty neat.

Now, appreciating ants in the wild is one thing, but nobody likes it when they invade your home. Last year in the old house, on top of the earwigs, we also dealt with a minor ant problem after my brother-in-law and his friends watched the house and left chex mix crumbs all over the living room. They were those small black ants, and a few of those little poison baits took care of them.

Currently, in our new house, we are facing a new vermin problem: carpenter ants: They are a problem for me for a different reason than they would probably be bothersome to other people...I really don't like killing them but I don't like having them crawl around in my dishwasher or in my cupboards. In case you didn't realize, these ants are pretty big. So to me, squishing one of them is almost like squishing a toad. They really are more like little animals to me than they are bugs. Maybe it's the way they sit and groom themselves like cats, or they cute way they carry big food crumbs or their dead friends around, but I really feel bad when I have to hear their little bodies go "pop" beneath my thumb and a paper towel.

I've put the poison baits out, but they haven't seemed to have had much of an effect. So I keep on squishing and cringing to myself. I did discover that squirting them with Simple Green or my Lysol kitchen cleaner also kills them, but they do flail around a little before they die. Today I got so frustrated when one crawled around while I was heating up my soup that I took the pot off the stove and shook the ant onto the burner. It seemed to do the trick pretty quickly, but I felt kind of sadistic about it.

The good news is that I just read something that suggested they are more of a nuisance than anything (an exterminator's ad made it sound like they would eat your house) so we certainly won't have to resort to fogging the house or doing anything so nasty. I *have* always wanted an ant farm, after all...

I am not making this up, I swear.

Last night I caught him masturbating on the La-Z-Boy...AGAIN! I will have to check the blanket for stains. I felt bad interrupting him--I mean, you should have seen the look of dopey pleasure on his face.

At first I wasn't sure what he was doing, I thought maybe something was wrong with him. But the second time I caught him, I decided to check more closely and, sure enough, his arousal was physically evident.

I googled the problem, and they say this can be an obsessive-compulsive kind of thing and that sometimes medication helps. But I figure, as long as it's not hurting anybody (and not leaving stains on the crocheted blanket we received as a wedding gift--he really seems to like that blanket A LOT), then what's the harm?

Could you deny this sweet face a few moments of carnal pleasure?

Part of me really does enjoy being domestic. I don't really mind making J's lunch in the morning--if nothing else, it ensures that I get up in time to have a few moments to myself after he leaves and before I start work.

But sometimes you just have to make sure he really appreciates that sandwich you got up early to make...and that everyone at his office knows what's up too.

time for a photo update!

[Click on any photo to see a larger version]

With so many trees outside our windows, you might guess that we get lots of birds around here. We get bluejays, woodpeckers, tufted titmice, and chickadees. But so far, I'm most excited about our resident pair of cardinals. I see at least the male pretty much every day, and I'm convinced that they're nesting beneath my forsythia bush. Here's a shot of the male. Isn't he handsome?? (His lady friend is pretty cute too!)

Speaking of birds, when I first saw these tracks, I thought we had landed in Jurassic park (the round ones are dog prints):

But, it was only a rafter (yes, that's the actual term!) of wild turkeys:

Betcha didn't know that turkeys can fly, did ya? Here they are, up in the trees at dusk (that's about all the flying they do, as far as I know...getting up into their roosts for the night). They seem to like the tall trees just behind the house. See that one in the middle near the bottom? That one's on his way up.


Of course, there are the deer:

We finally had some warm weather yesterday, so I took a walk down to the stream:

One of my favorite things about the property is that there's MOSS EVERYWHERE. Moss is one of my favorite things in the world.

Anybody know much about plants? I found a few of these popping up near the stream, and am very excited to find out what they are:

Finally, here's a birthday shout-out to Miss Loki, who turned 12 this week. Here she is in our den/kitchen (see our new kitchen table in the back? notice the lack of cat hair on the sofa? I am compelled to take pictures whenever I clean now, because things never stay that way for long).

Sorry for the lack of posts, but I spent all of last week out of town on business. A few notes from the road:

-I have become WAY too accustomed to my telecommuter habit of wearing sweats and slippers to work. One full day in a suit and heels and I was literally hobbling back to my room at the end of the night.

-I love that almost all public restrooms now have those paper toilet covers. Nothing worse than sitting in someone else's splatter (of course it's always the squatters who are too afraid to let their ass cheeks touch a potentially dirty toilet seat that end up leaving the seats covered in piss drops).

-At one hotel, every time I called room service or the front desk or whatever from my room, they addressed me by name. I thought this was a really nice touch, until I let my alcoholic friend crash in the room with me after a night out and she puked in the bed. At that point I was really longing for anonymity.

-On a related note, flying with a hangover sucks.

upon returning from another business trip

he: "I'm sad when you're gone."

she: "You're probably just sad because I'm not there to make your lunch and your coffee and wash out your thermos for you in the morning and so you have to rush around like crazy before work and it throws off your whole day."

he: "Well, no, when you're not here I do all that before I go to bed."

change of address

For the last 2 years, I have been updating our collective address book by scratching out old addresses and adding new ones to our original wedding guest list, fully intending all along to get them all uploaded into one computer...because I have 3 different computers with different address books, and the only place all of those addresses ever resided together was on theknot.com. I have downloaded our invite list from theknot.com at least 3 different times since the wedding.

This past holiday season, we sent out an insane amount of cards...working of course off of one of my ridiculous crossed-out-scrawled-on address list printouts. After the holidays were said and done, I updated the list with new addresses received on cards, and made a note of who sent cards to us. Since I did all the cards myself, I resolved squarely to do far less next year. I only got about halfway through entering my mess of a list into my laptop when it was time to pack up the house for the move...

So you can see where this is going, right? I finally got around to designing some lovely change of address postcards...they're nice and glossy and have a picture of the house, and they came in the mail a few days ago. So last night I fought my way through the usual straightjacket of procrastination and went to start addressing the cards.

Only...I can't find my hideous scrawled-upon-beat-up address list! I remember purposely putting it someplace where I knew it would be easy to find after the move. Apparently that's a sure-fire way to lose things, because for the life of me I have no idea where this thing is. It's even in a bright red folder, this much I know.

I can find the centerpiece from our wedding head table (the one that almost burned the reception hall down). I know exactly where I've stored the collection of Cabbage Patch Dolls I had as a kid, and if you asked me to show you the bag full of baby things that J's aunt has already bought for us (even though we have no kids and I'm not pregnant)? Right this way.

I know that list will turn up eventually. It's probably right next to something else really important, like J's autographed poster of Ronnie James Dio. Or his baggie of wisdom teeth.

the things you learn...

Today I had occasion to speak with our insurance agent about our homeowner's policy. While I had him on the phone, I thought it'd be a good time to ask about coverage for some of our more valuable possessions--namely, the computers and cameras. Here's what I learned:

We could get comprehensive coverage for the cameras that would cover loss or damage, except that caused by:

1) Nuclear holocaust (his exact words)
2) Chewing or gnawing by vermin

Damn, there goes my plan to capture a mushroom cloud on film while a rat dangles from my zoom lens.

a room with a view

As promised, here are some pictures of the new house...

Now this is what I call "fine dining"!


This is a bit of the tiny chunk of our property that could reasonably be called a "yard".


The cats agree: we sure get a lot of snow up here. Good thing for these wide windowsills to watch all the action.


At least one of us has a car that can get us in and out of this place! Shortly after J left, I called a plow to come make me an escape route. We later found out from our (very nice) neighbors that the retiree who used to live here always shoveled the driveway himself. All 400 sloping feet of it. Hmmph. Some of us have jobs, you know.


See that brown blob up there on the hill? That's our house, as seen from the woods. Bet we won't be able to see it from there once some leaves start popping!


And about where I was standing in that photo--that's where I saw, from my office window, not 1 or 2, but about 12(!) deer (I'm calling it our "herd") stroll by yesterday afternoon. I love this place!

you know you've moved to the country when:

-The first thing you receive in your mailbox is a card from the postal service that contains the heading "Rural Delivery".

-You're heading out to your first dinner out "in town" (trying to make it there before they close at 9 PM!), when you pass by a building with a parking lot full of cars and wonder, wow? what's going on *there* on a Wednesday night? And then you realize, it's a church.

-When passing by said church, you and your spouse speculate on what these good townspeople would think of you should the postman ever reveal to them the contents of your mail. (I read it for the articles, really!)

-At your big dinner out "in town", country songs are in regular rotation in the background music.

-After a big snow (like the one we had last night) you feel absolutely trapped in your own home until you are able to locate someone who is willing to come plow your 400 ft sloping driveway, because your compact car will never make it back up the hill should you leave the house with the driveway unplowed.

-You call to order a pizza from only pizza place in town, and the phone number is 555-8181. 10 minutes later, you have no heat or hot water and need to call the local repairman. His number is 555-8282.

-The local paper (delivered free to all residents on Fridays) contains full pages listing activities for senior citizens, numerous articles on church-related activities in the various towns (e.g. "Chicken Supper at Methodist Church"), an ad for a Christian summer camp, and...get ready for it...I am NOT making this up...a Jazzercise ad.

we did it!

Greetings from our new house in the woods! We're still living out of boxes, but we have cable, internet access, a couch to sit on, and the number for the only pizza joint in town. What more could you need? It's definitely going to be a while before we're all unpacked...

So, I'm hoping it's not just because I've been off work for almost a week, but living in this house feels like being on vacation. There's just something about this place that has made us feel really relaxed. I guess the view of the woods makes up for the interior maze of boxes.

The recent snow has allowed us to take note of some of the other inhabitants of our property--we've seen rabbit tracks, bird tracks, and some cat-like tracks that could be a raccoon or a fox (whatever it was, it left paw prints on J's windshield the other night!). We have a male cardinal in residence who has a lovely singing voice.

Last night my brother-in-law came up to see the house for the first time, and we took him on a mini night hike down to our stream. It was the first time we'd walked down into the woods since moving in. During the hike, we came across the first concrete evidence of deer on the property...hoof tracks leading down to and across the stream and criss-crossed over some other trails. Apparently we weren't the only ones trying to track the deer--there were some dog-like paw prints following the same path as the deer tracks. Coyote? Very possibly. Needless to say, as exhilarating as the discovery of the tracks was, I did get a little spooked when I heard rustling in the woods, even though it was probably just the wind.

I still can't believe this place is OURS!

Not a snowflake in sight all winter, and now all hell is set to break loose over Connecticut...just as it's time for me and J to haul an insane amount of crap over to our new digs! Wish us luck...

I'll be out of sight for a few days as we will be in transition, but I'm sure I'll have lots to share when I get back. Thanks for laughing with me through the major stress of the last few days!

what happens when your in-laws get to paw through your things

When I'm facing a big task, I tend to get into making lists. In preparation for the move, I had written out a list of "manageable" tasks, listed by room, on a legal-sized piece of paper. Somewhere along the line, this list got tacked up in the kitchen. Today, I noticed several of our moving helpers taking a glance at the list, and started to worry about whether I'd written anything I wouldn't want family looking at. So when I saw that my brother-in-law seemed to be reading the entire list line by line, I got up to tear it off the wall.

"I have to make sure I didn't write anything embarrassing on that," I said, totally giving myself away.

He pointed at an item listed under "Bedroom". "You mean like 'Pack goodies'?"

Um, yeah. Like that.

moving sucks, part II

OK, calm down. Just breathe. It's gonna be alright. They're going to locate your new address and snake their sneaky little wires in there and you are going to continue to be able to download celebrity gossip news and dirty craigslist postings at the sweet, sweet lightning speeds you have grown so deliciously accustomed to.

"I'm showing that we do service that area, but I'm not so sure about that house." This is what the 3rd Comcast customer service agent I had the pleasure of interacting with today told me. Surprisingly, this was the most reassuring thing I'd heard from them so far. I mean, it's better than "you're going to have to find another provider up there", which is what the first agent told me. The potential repercussions are beyond me. First, I would have to change not one, but TWO, email addresses. Second, I have seen what Cablevision has to offer and I fart in their general direction. No "On Demand" exercise programs? No...well I don't know what else they're missing but I am sure I would not like their service. Comcast is like Jordache in the 80's; Cablevision is like Jordache today. I am a cable snob.

I won't even begin to speculate on why our particular house would be showing up as unserviceable. I like to be serviced; my new house should be equally obliging. Maybe a Comcast tech once got spooked by a ghost on the property? Or...oooh! Maybe a chupacabra! Bigfoot! The Loch Ness monster! We do have a lot of room for hiding up there.

Comcast, if you're reading this, picture me on my knees before you. I am begging you, please! Let me keep my PowerBoost and my digital cable with exercise programs and late-night HBO specials On Demand. Just because I want to go live in the woods doesn't mean I want to stop sucking at the teat of corporate television or reduce myself to ordering...gasp!...DSL service. Call me back, Comcast. You don't have to play games with me--I won't think you're desperate if you don't wait a few days. I know you have others, but I think you feel the same way about me as I do about you. We need each other. I don't think I can live without you. Just stay with me, Comcast. I'll even let you do, you know, that *thing* we talked about that one time after all that wine? Please, Comcast, I know I can make you happy forever.

Love,
Kat E

moving sucks, part I

You know how people are always saying "I'm NEVER moving again"? That's because moving sucks. My living room is an obstacle course of full boxes, half-full boxes, empty boxes, trash bags and darting cats. My coffee table is littered with (more) crap (than usual). And amongst all this, there's no way any actual routine cleaning is getting done.

On the positive side, J is sorting through his many, MANY boxes of possessions, trying his best to find things he can actually bear to part with. So this weekend, we shared many laughs (in between the even more numerous moments in which one of us nearly assassinated the other) over old diaries, photos, and other mementos. A few highlights:

--I found my diary from freshman year of high school, in which I spend pages discussing my huge crush on a boy whose hair is "long in the back, but not too long, because that would be ugly". I have a feeling I'll be sharing a few of these entries with you all eventually.

--J dug out his old prom photos, in which he sports hair that is, um, pretty darn long in the back, and a white tux (also short in the front, long in the back, like the hair) with a peach cummerbund to match his date's huge peach lace-and-frill covered dress. He's so lucky to have found me instead ;)

--At one point, J barged into the bathroom, where I was washing my hands, and announced "dry your hands, I have something cool to show you but be sure your hands are dry first." So I dried my hands, and at his instruction (which I'll probably seldom follow in the future), closed my eyes and opened my hands. When I opened my eyes I saw that I was holding a handful of teeth. NOT cute, innocent baby teeth. No, these were his Big, Ugly, Adult, WISDOM TEETH. Not exactly what I was expecting. However, I will admit that this was much less traumatic then the time he showed me the rubber-banded remains of that long-in-the-back part of his former hairstyle, which he had for some UNGODLY reason kept in a box since he cut it off. I'm pretty sure I insisted that we could reminisce over his long lost mullet just fine by looking at pictures of it; and so it found its way to the dump, where it probably got covered in toxic waste and is now roaming the Northeast attaching itself to unsuspecting victims.

With regard to something else I discovered during this hellish moving process: I would just like to say that I love the fact that J and I have at least 2 giant Rubbermaid bins labeled "Costumes".

Swiss shards

Super-brief photo summary of 4 days spent in Switzerland, most of which time was spent indoors, working:

Flew into Zurich. After clearing customs (Swiss customs was surprisingly...barely noticeable?), my next order of business was to board the next available train to Geneva. I was able to snap some photos during my 10-minute wait:

When I got to my hotel in Geneva, my room wasn't ready yet. I stepped outside to capture the snowscape. Apparently, I'd gotten there just in time, as Switzerland (like most of the US), hadn't seen much snow at all this season. It was snowing when I landed, and for a day everything looked like this:

This was the view from my room:

Also seen from my room, this apartment building seems to have a lovely garden terrace on the roof--notice the trees growing through the space in the roof?

Before I got too motion sick, I was able to take a few snaps from the train, en route from Geneva back to Zurich after my meeting:

As my flight home didn't leave until the next day, I was able to spend a couple of hours in downtown Zurich:

I wasn't overly thrilled with Zurich, but I did get a good fondue dinner there at this restaurant (apparently it's the place to go for fondue...which you'd think would be around every Swiss corner, but I can assure you it is decidedly not):

And, the view along the river after dark was just lovely:

Many thanks to J for the fabulous new point-and-shoot, which makes taking great travel photos a snap.