There...And Back Again

It's one of my favorite book titles; The Hobbit or There and Back Again. To me, those simple words define the whole of a journey. You go "there", wherever "there" happens to be, and you return. But in that simple event can be a big event, an unexpected event or something very simple. One never knows.

On Saturday past, I headed west.

Interstate 88 westward out of Chicagoland was the choice of travel. This past weekend was the celebration of my mother's husband's 80th birthday. 80 years. That's definitely a reason to pack oneself into a Jeep and drive 5 hours west.

Iowa was playing Michigan and I managed to find the game on the radio about 15 minutes after it started. I knew that I needed to stop somewhere to get out and walk around. I would need gas, too, but it was very important to stretch my legs. Half-time arrived when I got to Clinton, Iowa. It was the perfect time to stop and get lunch.

I stopped again in Marion to get gas and the football game was on the line. Michigan was deep in Iowa territory and we needed a strong goal line stand to win. I left the car door open and the radio cranked up so I could hear, much to the amusement of the guy pumping gas across from me. I was on the road when Iowa won so I couldn't really whoop it up. The win made the drive quite bearable.

Yesterday, I returned.

The day was perfect for driving. It had been really windy on Saturday. Yesterday was calm and clear. I left at noon and stopped to get gas in Maquoketa. I stopped again in Savanna to get food. At about an hour away from home, my right knee was telling me it was time to get to where I was supposed to go. 

I love driving. I like the travel. I like to view the land, to see what there is to see. Driving to Iowa is probably about the limit right now, however. Until this whole knee thing clears up, it's just too painful to drive for longer periods of time, even with stops to get out and walk around, hobble is more like it. 

So, I went there and came back again. It was a great weekend. 

Beverage:  Earl Grey tea

Deb

There's a Reason Pam's Promotes Efficiency

Waiting for a plumber to arrive is the perfect time to work on the next project. This involves yards of fabric which needs to be cut into pieces and reassembled. The weekend, when I was up and around, involved clearing off the table in the living room so my very ancient cardboard cutting board could lie on top of it. As you would imagine, the cutting board was "claimed" but she moved when I went to unfold the thing. It's kind of unwieldy but it's been my go to tablet for years of sewing.

Once unfolded, the fabric can be laid on top. That's when, at least in my house, things get 'interesting'. I got one piece pinned. I was going to have to do some creative cutting as this print has a direction and I want the pieces to go in the same direction. While measuring and marking, the 'help' arrived.

I've never understood why every cat who has decided to lie down on my fabric choices then chooses to attack it. Shakespeare, Penney and Half-Pint would always jump up, lie down and then attack the fabric. Pilchard was no different. She balled it up and chewed and raked it with her claws. It didn't damage the fabric at all, but she's definitely in the way. I tugged on the fabric which seemed to encourage her pouncing. Then I decided to give her a "loving" and she bolted. I can almost hear her, "Awk! Mom wants to give me a loving! I can't stand that!"

At Pam's, if you remember from the earlier this year pinning, at her house, the dress I wore to Carole's wedding, I don't have to pin around, over or under a cat. I don't have to carefully remove a cat from a pattern piece and hope she doesn't extend her claws and tear the tissue paper. I don't have to remove a tail as I'm cutting along a line. I also have the laughter and commentary of a good friend.

As it happened, the project is all cut out, with Pilchard's help. I can put the sewing machine back on the table and begin sewing this.

Through all the action, Mija merely supervised. She spends a lot of time perched on the back of the recliner just watching the world. She has been a bit irritated with me as the sewing accouterments have taken over a section of the recliner. It won't be until I get the project 80% finished and leave it on the table that she will give her stamp of approval by lying on it.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

In Working Order

What does this look like to you? If you said that my kitchen sink needs a cleaning, well, that would be part of it.

The plumber came today. Huzzah! My sink is draining again.

He was 45 minutes late. I know the nature of plumbing is such that there is no way you can know, walking into a house, if the job is going to take 20 minutes or 2 hours. So, I can cut them some slack. He was polite. He was professional. There was no "plumber's crack", if you get my drift.

He took the pipes off under the sink, hooked up the rodder and let 'er go. He rodded the whole line from the sink to where it meets the sewer line. I'm used to having my sewer line rodded so I am aware of the noise. This was a murmur compared to that gigantic machine that's used outside. Still, his presence scared Mija and Pilchard who ran to hide until the experience was over.

It took a half hour and cost less than half what the gal estimated it would cost. To say I am thrilled is a slight understatement. That excess I had budgeted can go into my savings account for the next rainy day item that breaks. Actually, I need an oil change and to get the steering dampener fixed on the Jeep. That's a good use for the extra cash.

I cannot wait to run hot water into my sink to scrub it out and then fill it with water and dish detergent to finish off the dishes I didn't get washed last night. I don't need to examine my supper and rule out x or x because the pans used to make those dishes won't fit in the bathroom sink. I can make more cookies and applesauce and punkin bread and all sorts of goodies. If you need a plumber, ask me. I'll add my name to the chorus of recommendations for these people.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

Gone

My boss of 11 years finally retired. Last Friday was his official last day. He announced, 4 years ago, that he would be gone by 2009. Well, a recession intervened and that caused him to have to delay his plans. I remember, in late 2008, hearing him yelling at his broker because his investments had dropped an average of 15-18%. My company 401(k) only lost 8% of value and my personal IRA lost 6% of value. I have very little so a 6% loss is a lot of money to me, but I looked at my numbers and tried to imagine how I'd feel if I'd lost 18%.

A year ago in June, he told us he would be gone "by the end of June 2011". As things happened, he had to delay retirement but the seeds had been sewn. We gradually stopped asking him for advice, asking for assistance, asking him a whole lot because he wasn't in the office. He'd call and ask if anything was going on. When I'd tell him, "Not yet", he'd decide to simply not come in. His friends would just laugh. "Yeah, he's retired in his mind already," they'd say. It was frustrating for us but we got through it. It also made the impression on me that if I get to the point where I will be retiring on a certain date, I'm not going to just not come in occasionally. I would hope I respect my work colleagues too much to do that to them. My last day might be a half day, but I'll be in the office working as I usually do, up to cleaning it out and leaving.

A friend of mine, whom I've known for some 20 years, is wrestling with his employment. "Deb, I hate my job, just hate it." He's really busy and is often able to get overtime, but he works with some ill-mannered, boorish and downright stupid people. The stories he writes me about the things they do make me glad the only really irritating thing I had to deal with was an 11-1:30 office time.

And it's not that he hates what he does. I actually loves the job part. The people make it a horrible experience. "Oh well, I suppose it's like this everywhere. What if I leave and the job I go to is worse than this?" How do I respond to that? I don't quite know what to say to a friend who keeps on keeping on simply because it's a paycheck and he worries he won't find anything better. At what point is even a great job not worth it because of your co-workers. I don't know that I can answer that question for him.

I looked at the vacant chair at the end of last week. The boss actually vacated his office and turned in his keys last Wednesday. I don't know that I'll be able to retire any time within what could be considered "soon" and my friend just laughs when I mention retirement. I hope my former boss is happy in the location he chose to retire to.

It seems to me the proverbial "American Dream" has changed. It's now not to own a home, it's to have a job and to be able to provide for oneself and family. There is no retirement as my boss is experiencing, for a lot of us. The best we'll be able to do is hold our own. A lot of things change when someone retires. I think perspective is a big one.

Beverage:  Water

Deb