An Eventful Week

Last week, Ms. Packratty went to STITCHES South, the big knitting expo.  She bought some yummy yarn to make some socks for Miss Adorable, her niece.  And learned a new knitting technique.  Entrelac.  Well, new to her, anyway.

Despite having to rip back when she overthought something and went astray, she's finding it addictive and interesting. Not sure exactly what sort of project it would be good for other than scarves or a pillow, but it does produce interesting fabric.  I wonder what felted entrelac would look like?







Work has been challenging and Ms. Packratty has been very tired when the end of the week arrives, but she got up bright and early and went to the Inman Park Festival and met up with her third cousin Stephanie.  Ran into Mark M. en route to the booth where Stephanie was volunteering and chatted a bit.

Finally got home around 6 p.m., tired and a wee bit sunburnt, but picked up a cute birdhouse at the request of Miss Jane, to be delivered next week.

Along with a couple of huge projects at work, Ms. Packratty is being headhunted by a company in the DC burbs.  She is quite ambivalent about moving - if she was going to move, DC would not be one of her first choices, even though it would put her closer to family members.  It is a ton of money more than she is making now, but living in DC is horribly expensive, so it really would not be more, plus which Ms. Packratty would have to still pay the mortgage on Chez Packratty as she does not contemplate leaving Atlanta permanently unless it is to decamp for Edisto Island or Italy.

In gardening news, Ms. P finally found some of those yummy yellow pear tomato plants and bought some for the community garden plot as well as one for the new planter box she bought to go by the front door.  Some of her herb pots need retirement have cracked and broken in the winter.  So she will put the planter box in their place. It is very clever, with a watering well and casters.  Time to plant basil.  I am always amused by people who buy basil plants already sprouted - the damned stuff sprouts like a weed, people! If you can't grow basil, you probably can't even grow  mildew on your shower grout!

Lovely bullfrog fished out of the condo pool ....

On catlessness

Ms. Packratty has had a cat in residence pretty much continually for the last 35 years. There was a short gap after the untimely death of Kahlua in the late 1970s, then another short gap after Minerva went to the Bridge in the early 1990s. Delilah followed Minerva and Rascal came (and left) after Delilah. I miss them all, but as I said, I think I'm going to let Charlie Rufus be an only child for a while.  On cool nights, though, she does rather sharply feel the absence of a cat.  Or Miranda, who although a canine, could snuggle with the bonelessness of a relaxed cat.  Charlie is too wiggly.

Nature abhorring a vacuum, she rather suspects that Bast will recat her at some point and is content, for now, to wait.

It's that season

Ms. Packratty has been serving on her condo board of directors for several years and serving is right - plus there is no time off for good behavior.  We've recently spruced things up around our modest pool and bought some new umbrellas and fixed up the existing furniture, along with having the pool replastered, putting in some new plantings and scrubbing down the pool deck, etc. 
Well, tonight a couple of the other members dragged down the new umbrellas, just delivered, to unbox them and while we were there we found a large and handsome bullfrog in the pool.  We netted him out and plopped him into the shrubs, but while we were sitting around admiring the pool, we kept hearing incredible croaking coming from the pool and suddenly realized that around the pool just above the waterline about half a dozen more frogs were clinging to the tiles and advertising for mates.  Sometimes there are some unexpected paybacks for otherwise largely thankless jobs.

Sunday Sunday

Made it to the first day of the Peachtree Road Farmers Market and got good food, but before and after had to deal with a migraine and discovered I had *one* dose of Imitrex left. And that means a trip to the doctor and two copays that I would much rather apply to my shrinking little bit of debt or my trip fund.

Got to do a library run and do wash, while staying close enough to home to get to the computer within 15 or 20 minutes because, of course, it's Ms. Packratty's week on call.

But the farmers market haul included some fava beans so I am going to try cooking them with a bit of pancetta and garlic and see how it goes. I clearly can't live on il Bacio lunches and yogurt as a primary diet. So I have to start cooking more and purer.

No, I'm not talking purer in the sense of the no fat, no meat, no taste fanatics, just about using ingredients that haven't been doused in chemicals. I'd like to be in a bit better shape before I tackle that Grand Canyon trip. Note to self, write off for more information this week and see how far in advance I need to make reservations.

Knitting

Ah, Easter season. The moon is full and work has been crazy.

Someone recently asked Ms. Packratty about knitting in Rome. And knitting in general.

Yes, Ms. Packratty did knit in Rome and got a lot of curious glances for it. Apparently knitting in Italy is only for nonnas or grandmothers and although Ms. Packratty is indeed old enough to be a grandmother (without any teen motherhood involved), she has been told she does not look it. So what would happen if Ms. Packratty started to knit while in line or waiting for a bus or whatever would be a lot of very open looking and the occasional bit of yarn petting and questioning, which was always interesting given that Ms. Packratty knew no Italian knitting words at all.
Ms. Packratty took these socks (Zauberball, gift from her mother) and finished the second foot and toe (except for Kitchenering the toe) on the plane over. She only tackled the Kitchenering after she was at the tiny apartment, had a good night's sleep and a fortifying glass of wine.









While she was there, she started a scarf from a lovely kit gifted to her a couple of years ago by Ms. T which had been waiting for the proper time to wade into – so something quick, simple and knitted with luscious yarns was definitely the proper time. The picture makes it less rosy than it really is, but it is yummy and rosy like the last gasp of a truly spectacular winter sunset.


Ms. Packratty knitted it on the Metro, on the Piazza outside the Pantheon, outside St. Cecelia in Trastevere, at the bus stop, in her little rented apartment. It was not done when she left Rome, but was too big to work on the plane, so Ms. Packratty cast on this sock while on the Leonardo Express train to the airport.







Yes, the train ride was smooth enough to cast on and join sock yarn on 00 dp needles, which is impressive and Ms. Packratty got a bit done on the train, in the waiting area from Hell (Note to airport designers – most planes carry close to 200 people these days and they almost always fly packed like sardines. Those same passengers are forced to come to the airport 2-3 hours before their flights, so supplying 75 seats at the gate area, no matter how tastefully designed, is NOT sufficient.) and a little bit on the plane, Unfortunately, the very chubby little man next to me kept doing things that put his elbows into Ms. Packratty’s knitting zone of comfort, (Ms. Packratty herself is not slim, but she is at least aware of the space she takes up and makes all possible effort not to intrude into the space of others. Her seatmate? Not so much.) so she did not get much done on the plane and since she came back, she was occupied finishing off the last of that scarf and starting the 10 Stitch Blanket in a periwinkle wool/acrylic blend for a co-worker whose spouse is expecting their first child.

I’m working it in a solid because I couldn’t find a blue dominant (yes, they know it’s a boy) that I liked that was a> suitable for a baby blanket and b> wasn’t either ugly, all synthetic or way too expensive to be a baby blanket. Love my coworkers, but I am not spending $100 on the yarn for a baby blanket. Maybe when Miss Adorable or her Brother Darling make me a great aunt, but not before then.

So she has 4 UFOs UnFinishedObjects) – a shawls whose edging she cannot for the life of her figure out how to knit on and is thinking of knitting separately and attaching later; a scarf for a coworker which is nine-tenths done but boring; the socks mentioned above; and the baby blanket. That’s a generous plenty, especially with the black cardigan sitting in a drawer in all its separate pieces waiting for sewing up inspiration to strike.

Plus there are other non-fiber related projects that want attention. Lots of attention, like getting the garden planted, washing Charlie, and giving away the last bits of cat related stuff. Ms. Packratty has decided that Charlie is going to be an only child for the foreseeable future.

Culinary Solace

Ms. Packratty has been suffering badly from food issues since her return to Rome. In addition to her issues with corn products in food, she is starting to wonder if all the additives and so forth in American food is part of the problem she has with her digestion. She ate very well in Rome and only suffered grumpy tummy once after a particularly rich meal that also included some bleu cheese. Sadly, within 10 days of her return, her stomach was once again in frequent revolt and she has pared back her menu to try to eliminate as many additives as possible. And it seems to help.

One great help is the lovely little pizzeria down the road from her work, a charming little place in a strip mall called Il Bacio. She has been lunching there since they opened and while she does not love everything there, there are many things that are spot on. For example, this is the sandwich (on foccacia bread) and salad that she picked up for lunch Wednesday.



















That's for well under $10. Ms. P is not mad about the pizza, preferring crustier stuff, but they do a good basic NY style pie and some interesting variations. But the salads are always wonderful and the house baked foccacia is always good. I wish someone would do some really seasonal only Italian cooking in Atlanta and perhaps teach people that there is more than pasta to Italian food.

Friends and changes

Ms. Packratty is rather sad. An old friend has abruptly and without any explanation or any honesty, effectively fired her as a friend. She suspects this former friend had her nose put out of joint by Ms. Packratty’s Italian adventure, although Ms. Packratty extended several invitations to undertake a joint excursion – her now apparently former friend had countered a proposal for a week in Rome and a couple of days in Florence with the desire to do the sort of city hopping that makes your head swim – i.e. if this is Tuesday it must be Turin.

Since we had such opposing ideas about Italy, Ms. Packratty had concluded that she needed to go to Italy by herself and had suggested to this friend that they undertake a Grand Canyon trip, since her FF lives in the West and has made much about her outdoors activities. That was shot down, first with the comment that her FF was not comfortable with wearing a bathing suit and then with the plea that she was no longer very outdoorsy, countering with the idea of taking a cruise to Alaska. Ms. Packratty started doing research and sent her some details for a late summer 2013 sailing and then was flabbergasted to receive a deadpan, unfriendly, unemotional and patently dishonest “I think we have different ideas about what a vacation is.”

Well, what is a vacation?

Some vacations are for learning, some are for relaxing, some are physically demanding, some are all of the above. Ms. Packratty’s Roman holiday certainly was all of those. What other things could a vacation be like? Constant motion, I suppose, or sitting still and imitating a log, but in between those two opposites, what else is there? What a vacation is not in my eyes would be a frantic slog from one city to the next with minutes instead of hours budgeted for museums, packing and unpacking and checking in and out of hotels.

If I go to Naples, I want time to see Pompeii, to go to the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli and spend half a day or more without time pressure, or wander through the Pompeii ruins until my feet are ready to drop off. If I go to Positano, I want more than a half day race to “see the sights” – I want to sit under an arbor, sip a limoncello and then go watch ceramic artists at work. You can’t do those things if you have allocated a week and you are trying to see most of the “boot”. You can rush around and do exhausting drive-by tourism or you can stop and concentrate and be in a place. Or two.

Am I sad? Yes, I am. I really treasured FF but apparently she has taken some offense and doesn’t want my friendship. I’m very sorry about that, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do. I know I have many faults as a friend, but lack of honesty and openness is not one of them and I am deeply offended at the way I was treated. However, knowing what I know about FF’s family and upbringing, I’m not surprised. Her family appears to suffer from one of the worst cases of emotional constipation I’ve ever heard of, although the only emotion her parents seemed to be perfectly free expressing was disapproval.

So I don’t know what FF’s underlying problem is. I’m sad about it, but you know – I can’t fix anything if she won’t be honest and open with me and I’m just not able to go digging for it. When someone lives 1000 miles away and you aren’t face to face with them, if they want to be hostile and evasive, there’s no way to get them to open up.

Do I like it? No, it’s always sad to lose a friend.

What am I going to do about it? Nothing. There’s nothing I can do. I’m going to send her the souvenir yarn I bought her in Rome, wish her well, tell her that I’ll be glad to listen if she ever decides to talk and get on with my life.

So next stop? Planning for that Grand Canyon trip. It seems only fair to alternate US trips with trips to la bella Italia.

108

Today would have been the 108th birthday of Ms. Packratty's beloved grandfather. He has been dead since 1989, but there is scarcely a day that goes by that Ms. Packratty does not think of him and wish she could talk to him. Following close on the heels of this is the 60th anniversary of the marriage of the Packratty parents. It's quite a month.

Three weekends to go

Before my trip and I really have to get cracking on getting the house ready to decamp. The biggest issue is making sure that Her Ancient and Exalted Highness Delilah Fuzzybutt has sufficient food, water and litter boxes for the duration. She is terrified of strangers, so I really like to just set her up with lots of dry food left out, water dripping into a bowl in the bathtub and about 7 litterboxes lined up down the hall. But I really need to finish clearing out the unfolded laundry in the laundry room, do a boatload of dishes, clean out the fridge and make a sweep through my bedroom and get a lot of books re-shelved. I think I'll probably throw out a few bags of assorted junk too.

I'm almost over the chest and throat ailment that's been making me miserable for the last 3 weeks, so I'm hoping I can get some real traction on those tasks this weekend - as well as - once again - putting new innards in the upstairs loo. The fancy water saver doesn't - so bah humbug, I'll go back to the old sort with the float. However, kneeling on the bathroom floor while unscrewing and refastening all this stuff is definitely NOT my favorite occupation. I thought the first time would be good for 5-10 years - not less than 2 months.

I also have the newest David Weber in advance reader copy form - A Rising Thunder. This is the one where Manticore and the Peeps ally and - I expect - kick the Solly's asses up around their ears and start to deal with Mesa and Manpower. Although I expect THAT part of the story won't be done for several more books. I must resist the temptation to stay up all night reading. In fact, I hope to use chapters as rewards for getting on with assorted tasks - we'll see how that goes.

Waterboarding err, Software Testing

There's a peculiar and miserable sort of torture in the software world called testing and Ms. Packratty has just endured a round of it. The initial part wasn't bad, although it fell during the week when Ms. Packratty lost her still somewhat absent voice. The predeployment testing got finished after the QA person had finished *her* four day week and somehow, Ms. Packratty never got the script for the post-deployment testing. Until this morning. After a night of very poor sleep, Ms. Packratty had finally achieved a comatose state when her phone went off to tell her that it was time to test. So she drove down to the office, since testing on the laptop is a misery because you can't see the blasted reports very well and you can't print them to a non-network computer.
So, 4 hours later she was mostly done after a full handful of fits and starts and Sunday was shot - right between the eyes.
So Ms. Packratty decamped from work in gray drizzle and gassed up Charlie's Buick, picked up her supply of fizzy water and looked up at the lowering sky and said "To hell with this, I want some really good food" and drove straight to the Havana restaurant http://www.havanarestaurantatlanta.com/ for a #17 combo which she brought home and devoured (minus the pickles). With our spirits somewhat mended, we chucked a load in the washer, spent 10 minutes rounding up more hangers and zipped up to the library and checked out a big stack of fluffy reading.
And now, she is going to tell Charlie to shut up and take a nap so that she can shut her eyes and take a nap.

New glasses and a renewed zeal to conquer the laundry room

Ms. Packratty picked up her new specs this morning and will be able to ditch the pair purchased in December of 2010 which she never actually liked. At the time they were the largest lens area frames she could find at her optometrist's shop, most of the glasses available being those miniscule little ovals and rectangles that look good OK on approximately .05% of the population and look like boiled sin on the rest of us. But they were sort of rectangularish instead of the roundy type that Ms. Packratty prefers and now has once again

She is on call this weekend and not enjoying it but given that this is the first weekend in 2 months when there were not 9K things needing to be done IMMEDIATELY, she is attacking the squalid heaps of clean but unfolded and sorted laundry in the hopes of finding all the pieces she intends to pack for her trip.

There's also the matter of cleaning the litterbox and vacuuming and washing the floor in there and also AGAIN replacing the innards in the upstairs loo. the fancy-shmancy new innards lasted - oh 6 weeks - before failing to to cut off the inbound water, leading to another (small) flood and a lot of exasperation. Going back to the sort with a float and a mechanical cut off. We are irritated, but fortunately, the toolbox with all the proper implements is still upstairs right where I need it.

There is also a small boatload of dishes to do, the kitchen drawer to mend (again) and there are books all over the bedroom that need to be wrangled back into their proper places as well as running up to the library to get a new whack of books for the new week. Oh, and we need fizzy water and a tank of gas as well as something to cook for dinner tomorrow. But still, there's only a small plate of tasks as opposed to the normal platter of plenty that confronts most weekends. And with the temperature rather - temperate - right around 60 it makes working conditions rather more pleasant. Chez Packrat is not too warm, nor is it so chilly that we want to retire to the bed and continue our romance with the winterweight down comforter.

Voiceless

The voice is so very definitely AWOL. Had to get the prescriptions filled Friday - more $ gone. This is about the 4th time or maybe the 5th that I have lost my voice since that truly epic bit in 1996 when I lost my voice from Thanksgiving to around Christmas. Not the best ailment for someone who talks for a living.

On better notes, saw the first flying flakes of snow in 2012 Friday, but only briefly. The garden plots at the community garden got a great head start before the freezing weather hit and seem to be thriving. I wish I'd planted more carrots though.

Eyes examined - need new lenses, my left eye appreciably worse, dammit. Frame choice a bit better - I actually had 4 pair of non-tiny frames to choose from, 5 if you count the pair that was just too dark for my coloring. I could have worn them 30 years ago, but now that my hair is mostly white, not a chance. At least I''ll be shed of this pair that I've disliked since the day I picked them up.

Time to try to go to sleep if the cold meds will let me.

One damned thing after another

Ms. Packrat has lost something. Not a piece of paper or a skein of yarn - although a packet of bamboo DPs has gone astray. No. Ms. Packrat has lost her voice. Again. It started with a headache and fever on Monday that kept her out of work for 2 precious days of sick leave and by late Wednesday, she was croaking like a froggy. Thursday dawned after a restless night (hard to sleep when you want to cough all the time) and the voice was ... gone.

Thankfully, Ms. Packrat is mostly engaged in testing software this week, and was able to nip out and see a doctor today and get the standard round of antibiotics and prednisone prescription and a letter telling her manager that she needs to be silent. However, the added expense and the typically long recuperation with winter upon us and a long planned and anticipated trip ahead - just perfect, perfect timing. The co-pay and parking and pharmacy money would have been much more fun to spent in a corner osteria on a plate of pasta. Grumble.

Seriously, though, it could be worse timing, but still. Almost half the sick leave for the year gone in the first month. Of course, some of the coworkers have already used more of theirs, which probably contributed to Ms. Packrat's tired state that probably helped bring this on, but still. Hoovers.

Tonight applying a good stiff drink and an early bedtime to try to avoid having to fill all the prescriptions - a night without hacking like a sick dog would probably help the voice come out of hiding a bit.

Grumble.

Starting off reading

Books to date include:

Conquistadora - so-so
Three bedrooms, one corpse - amusing
Art and Madness - eh
Kingfishers Catch Fire - slim book with lots of texture
Gone - Rumer Godden short stories - lovely bits
Falling palace: a romance of Naples - BORING, read 1/3 and gave up
Subterranean Rome - not just the what, but the why and the hows and great background
The leftovers - interesting
The Cypress House - - ditto, good read
Blood Maidens - slightly different vampires
A secret rage
Shakespeare's landlord
On Borrowed Time
Robopocalypse - scary
All Wound Up funny as always

So that's 15 books in the first 11 days, not including several guidebooks for Rome and central Italy, but can't count as literature.

I also finished a sock, started its mate and have lugged out 3 giant bags of trash and spent a couple of hours on the bookbinding bench.

And am currently enjoying a miserable case of attempted bronchitis (I think I got to the antibiotics in time) but not enjoying the fever at all.

A Rerun Post for the 4th of July

A is for All of the citizens serving to protect this country and the peace of the world.

M is for Mercy. America has proved time and time again to be a terrible enemy but a merciful victor. This is another tradition I hope and pray we continue to follow even though it undoubtedly makes us appear weak to barbarians.

E is for English, our common tongue. Yes, we butcher the King's version, but American English is vibrant and lively and borrows freely from almost every culture we encounter. Barbecue from the Arawaks, amok from the Moros - if we find a useful word, we'll appropriate it. Look up boondocks, for example!

R is for our Revolution. We won our freedom and we have tried to spread the gospel of freedom.

I is for Invention. America was the first country to recognize intellectual property with a patent system and trademarks. The US Patent Office has patents that you can view online going back to 1790, when our country was barely a going concern. One of our Presidents has even held a patent.

C is for Charity. We excel at it both at home and abroad. If tragedy strikes a community or a country, Americans will be sending soup, bandages and cash within hours - and not primarily through government agencies, but through groups such as the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and dozens and dozens of smaller groups.

A is for ambition. In America, ambition and hard work can make you. Who your parents were or where they came from is much less important than what you want to achieve and how hard you are willing to work to do so.

The truth about this country is illustrated most vividly in the fact that all over the world in countries of every type, there are people standing in line and staking all they have on a chance to come here, whereas, I am informed, the line to leave here is small.

An honest prayer for President Obama

"Pray
for Obama. Psalm 109:8".

Psalm 109:8 ~ "Let his days be few and brief; and let others step forward to
replace him."

I was in a small accident a couple of weeks ago and got bounced around the interior of the SO’s car. I had my seatbelt on and the airbag deployed and all that, but it’s been a potent reminder that when you have fibromyalgia, everything can be a bit more difficult.

My right leg is still swollen and sore, even though the visible bruises have faded. I have to elevate it every evening for the swelling and aching to go down. And I’m sore and stiff all over in a way that is a continual reminder of the accident and I’ve been very worried that the physical stress from this would put me into a flare up of the fibromyalgia. I think I may have dodged the bullet on that, because I actually got some decent sleep despite a> being on-call and b> sleeping on the guest bed because the waterbed sprung a leak and I’m waiting for a replacement. A week on a regular bed is a potent reminder of ALL of my sore spots.

But I’m getting better – eating lots of fresh cherries and the amazingly sweet Athena cantelope that will be gone in another week or so not to return until next year.

And my garden has started to yield. Mostly tomatoes, but I've had arugula, sugar snap peas (eaten in the pod tossed in salads) and some lovely radishes. Since it is a small, not quite 4 foot by 8 foot bed, the yield has been quite generous. However, it only stokes the desire for a yard where vegetables and flowers and a happy little dog could all have space.

Gardening

After about 3 weeks of scant or no rain, we had a fabulous drencher Wednesday night, followed by late afternoon soakers on Friday and Saturday.

My garden at the North Fulton Community Garden is growing well and I expect to have ripe tomatoes in the next week.
Pictures to come

Whew!

It's been as hot as the hinges of hell's barbecue grill this week and no relief in sight, although we usually get a brief cool spell in June before the bronze bowl of summer heat closes over us for the duration.

On call this week, so up at 7:30, waited until after the office opened at 8 to walk Charlie, then zipped down to the Peachtree Road Farmer's Market at St. Philips. http://www.peachtreeroadfarmersmarket.blogspot.com/ It was already steamy by 9 and by 10 a.m. I was happy to be back in my car with the ac on. Ran by Trader Joe's and then by the community garden to water my plot and Mar's and clip away some of my beautiful, pungent arugula and lettuces. I even found a couple of the watermelon radishes big enough to pull. Whee. Picture of the garden soon. The tomatoes are fruiting like mad - I have all Romas in my plot and an assortment of heirlooms in Mar's - all but one of my Italian starts from seed were flattened in our late April hailstorm. The sole survivor is doing well. Ah, next year - a girl can hope.

It's time for more housework as well as trying to fix the disposal. It whirs, but grindeth not, so I have tried the reset to no avail and wend and bought a set of Allen wrenches looking for the size that fits in the bottom to try to clear whatever is ailing it. If that fails, I'll have to buy a new kitchen pig, darnit. Not something I want to do. For the moment though, I'm, loading the dishwasher, catching a shower and waiting for 1 when I have to got online to my computer at work and publish the June schedule.