I just saw an article with the headline, "How To Grow Lots of Zucchini."
If I were writing the article, it would go like this:
Step 1: plant zucchini.
Step 2: stand back.
(Speaking of which, I should pop out to the greenhouse to see how my seedlings are doing. Last year's zucchini harvest was more than we needed, even with giving a lot of it away, so I'm only doing one zucchini plant this year. That should give me enough for a few batches of zucchini relish, some zucchini bread, and sautéed zucchini about once a week through the summer.)
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Plague
Life during a pandemic teaches us all sorts of things. We learn which workers are considered essential (generally those who earn the lowest wages). We learn how far six feet really is (thanks to tape lines on the floor at the supermarket). We see how feeble an excuse people need to be racist (some of them don't even need an excuse). We learn how little some people know about health and medicine (somebody please get the Cheeto-in-chief away from microphones). We see which companies are willing to take care of their workers (CVS and Aldi are giving raises/bonuses to current employees and hiring more to keep supply lines open and stores sanitized) ...and which aren't.
The company I work for is one of the ones that isn't taking care of its employees. We're considered essential workers, so we still have to show up to work unless we or someone in our households is symptomatic. We're being forced to take a week of unpaid furlough each, on a rolling schedule. The company has stopped its contributions to our 401(k) retirement funds. Raises that had been in the works are on hold indefinitely. Our "community hire" (a disabled part-time porter) has been laid off.
All of this is being done in the name of keeping the company afloat during the economic downturn associated with the pandemic. But given that other "essential" companies are doing things like suspending executives' salaries to keep their front-line employees fully paid, or making other tweaks to their business models to adjust to the current market without forcing their lowest-paid employees to feel the pinch, it ends up looking like the company is trying to preserve its profits at our expense.
On top of that, we were informed of our first in-house confirmed case of COVID-19 on Friday. The person's name wasn't released, but we're a pretty small crew and only one person has been out sick, so it's obvious who it is. As soon as the announcement was made, operations were brought to a halt, old PPE thrown out, new PPE issued, and we all grabbed Clorox wipes and proceeded to clean every touch-point in the building. I had to get home to feed my animals, so I didn't stay late to finish the job, but I'm certain that operations started back up immediately following the cleaning session, and as far as I know I'll be back to work as usual on Monday.
My personal exposure to this thing is pretty limited, and my physical health is fairly robust, but because I have to be out in the world every day, I do worry about being a vector and spreading the disease to other, more vulnerable people. I would have appreciated some acknowledgement/explanation of the essential-ness of the work we do (we do supply some products that could be critical during an emergency, but for the most part I'm not sure why we're still open) and more effort on the part of upper management to show us what, if anything, they themselves are sacrificing in order to keep the company afloat. I would like to be able to say I work for one of the companies that cares about its workers.
It's a pity I can't.
The company I work for is one of the ones that isn't taking care of its employees. We're considered essential workers, so we still have to show up to work unless we or someone in our households is symptomatic. We're being forced to take a week of unpaid furlough each, on a rolling schedule. The company has stopped its contributions to our 401(k) retirement funds. Raises that had been in the works are on hold indefinitely. Our "community hire" (a disabled part-time porter) has been laid off.
All of this is being done in the name of keeping the company afloat during the economic downturn associated with the pandemic. But given that other "essential" companies are doing things like suspending executives' salaries to keep their front-line employees fully paid, or making other tweaks to their business models to adjust to the current market without forcing their lowest-paid employees to feel the pinch, it ends up looking like the company is trying to preserve its profits at our expense.
On top of that, we were informed of our first in-house confirmed case of COVID-19 on Friday. The person's name wasn't released, but we're a pretty small crew and only one person has been out sick, so it's obvious who it is. As soon as the announcement was made, operations were brought to a halt, old PPE thrown out, new PPE issued, and we all grabbed Clorox wipes and proceeded to clean every touch-point in the building. I had to get home to feed my animals, so I didn't stay late to finish the job, but I'm certain that operations started back up immediately following the cleaning session, and as far as I know I'll be back to work as usual on Monday.
My personal exposure to this thing is pretty limited, and my physical health is fairly robust, but because I have to be out in the world every day, I do worry about being a vector and spreading the disease to other, more vulnerable people. I would have appreciated some acknowledgement/explanation of the essential-ness of the work we do (we do supply some products that could be critical during an emergency, but for the most part I'm not sure why we're still open) and more effort on the part of upper management to show us what, if anything, they themselves are sacrificing in order to keep the company afloat. I would like to be able to say I work for one of the companies that cares about its workers.
It's a pity I can't.
Sunday, March 8, 2020
What Have They Done To The Durrells?
One of the best things my mother ever did for me was to introduce me to Gerald Durrell's writing. Durrell was a British naturalist who spent part of his childhood in the 1903s on Corfu with his mother and siblings. His books about that time (My Family and Other Animals, Birds, Beasts, and Relatives, and Fauna and Family) are hilarious, and I can remember knowing that my mother was reading one of his books when she could barely get through a paragraph without giggling. Despite seeing his brother Lawrence as a better writer, Gerry certainly knew how to hold a reader's attention.
When I stumbled across My Family and Other Animals, the 2005 movie based on his books, I was wary. Movie adaptations of books can sometimes go dreadfully awry, especially when one has grown up with a beloved set of books and has a fairly firm notion of what they ought to look like acted out. I was pleasantly surprised -- the movie trims down the story to fit the allotted time, but it does so with care and affection for both the characters and the general feel of the books. There are little bits of serious drama in with the wackiness, just to remind you that it's the '30s in Europe and bad things are happening, but for the most part, the movie keeps it light and fun, which is why it now sits in my DVD collection.
Today I discovered that there's been a more recent adaptation that's now on Amazon Prime Video -- a four-season series that, one would think, would really get into the details in the books and bring Gerry's wit to the fore.
No such luck, sadly. I'm a few episodes in, and it seems the producers have seen fit to turn it into a heart-wrenching drama rather than a light-hearted comedy. They're skipping a lot of the good bits, giving the characters far more flaws than they deserve, and the whole thing is feeling unhappy and rushed. It's rather like what Netflix did in Anne With An E -- taking a beloved childhood classic and making it dark and full of angst.
I'm going to stick with the series a bit longer in the hopes that it gets better, but I don't think I'd put money on it. I do want to know, with the writers skipping great chunks of the storyline, how they've filled four seasons from three books that they seem to be racing to bypass entirely. We shall see, I suppose.
When I stumbled across My Family and Other Animals, the 2005 movie based on his books, I was wary. Movie adaptations of books can sometimes go dreadfully awry, especially when one has grown up with a beloved set of books and has a fairly firm notion of what they ought to look like acted out. I was pleasantly surprised -- the movie trims down the story to fit the allotted time, but it does so with care and affection for both the characters and the general feel of the books. There are little bits of serious drama in with the wackiness, just to remind you that it's the '30s in Europe and bad things are happening, but for the most part, the movie keeps it light and fun, which is why it now sits in my DVD collection.
Today I discovered that there's been a more recent adaptation that's now on Amazon Prime Video -- a four-season series that, one would think, would really get into the details in the books and bring Gerry's wit to the fore.
No such luck, sadly. I'm a few episodes in, and it seems the producers have seen fit to turn it into a heart-wrenching drama rather than a light-hearted comedy. They're skipping a lot of the good bits, giving the characters far more flaws than they deserve, and the whole thing is feeling unhappy and rushed. It's rather like what Netflix did in Anne With An E -- taking a beloved childhood classic and making it dark and full of angst.
I'm going to stick with the series a bit longer in the hopes that it gets better, but I don't think I'd put money on it. I do want to know, with the writers skipping great chunks of the storyline, how they've filled four seasons from three books that they seem to be racing to bypass entirely. We shall see, I suppose.
Sunday, March 1, 2020
RT
I was out to dinner with a friend tonight. As we were leaving the restaurant, she was complaining of some unusual abdominal pain that had been going on for several days, and as she's going through the list of possible causes, she says, "I hope I'm not pregnant -- I ain't ready for no kid!"
A young woman at a nearby table looks over and says, "gurl, retweet!"
I'm torn between feeling very, very old... and laughing my ass off.
A young woman at a nearby table looks over and says, "gurl, retweet!"
I'm torn between feeling very, very old... and laughing my ass off.
Monday, February 24, 2020
It's Getting Hot In Here
It's 60ºF outside right now.
In Massachusetts.
In February.
The cats, chickens, and rabbits are thrilled. The fruit trees are confused. The snow shovels look listless.
If this were any other year, I'd be irritated, but this is my 89-year-old grandmother's first winter in New England since 1984, and honestly, I'm glad it's a mild one for her. Still not happy about this whole climate change thing, but at least my Gran isn't buried under feet upon feet of snow like she would've been if she'd moved up a few years ago.
In Massachusetts.
In February.
The cats, chickens, and rabbits are thrilled. The fruit trees are confused. The snow shovels look listless.
If this were any other year, I'd be irritated, but this is my 89-year-old grandmother's first winter in New England since 1984, and honestly, I'm glad it's a mild one for her. Still not happy about this whole climate change thing, but at least my Gran isn't buried under feet upon feet of snow like she would've been if she'd moved up a few years ago.
Friday, February 14, 2020
Story Time
I'm rubbish at writing full-length fictional stories (all that plot and character development and dialogue, ugh!), but my wild imagination loves showing me little scenes that I sometimes feel the need to write down. My father wrote Lovecraft fanfic before fanfic was a thing, so while I'm terrified of things that go bump in the night, I'm also somewhat fascinated with them. I present a little horror scene that's been knocking about my brain for a few days -- this is as long as it will ever get, and it's unlikely I'll ever write enough for a compilation, so this seems the best place for it. I hope someone out there enjoys it.
*****
I heard the familiar sound of his truck pulling into the driveway as I was putting away the dishes. He walked in the back door and paused for a quick hug, kiss, and how-was-your-day while rummaging in the fridge for something to nibble on. I told him about my coworkers' latest antics while he scarfed down a bowl of leftover soup and a handful of crackers, and then he bounded up the stairs to take a quick shower.
I gave his soup bowl a rinse, heard the shower start, and was about to go curl up with a book when I heard the familiar sound of his truck pulling into the driveway... again. I watched him walk in the back door and set his lunchbox down on the counter. His eyes met mine, noticed the slightly panicked stare, and he cocked his head to one side in silent inquiry.
"Are you the fake, or is he?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the bathroom, whence came the noises of both running water and slightly off-key singing.
He smiled, displaying teeth that weren't quite human.
*****
I heard the familiar sound of his truck pulling into the driveway as I was putting away the dishes. He walked in the back door and paused for a quick hug, kiss, and how-was-your-day while rummaging in the fridge for something to nibble on. I told him about my coworkers' latest antics while he scarfed down a bowl of leftover soup and a handful of crackers, and then he bounded up the stairs to take a quick shower.
I gave his soup bowl a rinse, heard the shower start, and was about to go curl up with a book when I heard the familiar sound of his truck pulling into the driveway... again. I watched him walk in the back door and set his lunchbox down on the counter. His eyes met mine, noticed the slightly panicked stare, and he cocked his head to one side in silent inquiry.
"Are you the fake, or is he?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the bathroom, whence came the noises of both running water and slightly off-key singing.
He smiled, displaying teeth that weren't quite human.
Saturday, February 1, 2020
Flight Canceled
I watch a lot of homesteading videos these days, and it seems all of these vlogging 'steaders have drones so they can get aerial shots of their farms. One even used his drone to help find a neighbor's missing cow! Now, our little urban patch of earth isn't worth taking many pictures of, but our next one will be, and I was toying with the idea of picking up a little $30 toy drone to learn on before deciding whether to get a beefier model for when we move to the new place in a few years.
Then I started reading up on the laws and ordinances relating to drones, most of which seemed pretty sensible: maintain line of sight, don't exceed 400 feet, don't fly over anyone else's property without their written permission, and so on. There's also one about not operating a drone within 5 miles of an airport without contacting the control tower for permission first.
That one's the kicker, because I live less than two miles from an Air Reserve Base. So I did a little more research, and found a map of restricted airspace in the US, zoomed in on my neighborhood... and it's a no. Zero-foot ceiling, no-fly zone. It's possible that, depending on the day and time, I might be able to get authorization for a short flight from the base control tower, but first I'd have to apply for, test for, pay for, and receive an FAA-issued UAV pilot's license (with re-tests every two years), and then use an app that pings the tower for permission on my behalf every time I want to fly.
That seems like a lot of work to get a $30, 6-ounce, 5-minutes-of-battery-life piece of plastic to hover at roof height for kicks (or to inspect my gutters without having to get out the extension ladder, y'know, if I want to pretend it's for something practical). I guess I'll wait until I move out of the no-fly-zone before I splurge on that new toy.
Then I started reading up on the laws and ordinances relating to drones, most of which seemed pretty sensible: maintain line of sight, don't exceed 400 feet, don't fly over anyone else's property without their written permission, and so on. There's also one about not operating a drone within 5 miles of an airport without contacting the control tower for permission first.
That one's the kicker, because I live less than two miles from an Air Reserve Base. So I did a little more research, and found a map of restricted airspace in the US, zoomed in on my neighborhood... and it's a no. Zero-foot ceiling, no-fly zone. It's possible that, depending on the day and time, I might be able to get authorization for a short flight from the base control tower, but first I'd have to apply for, test for, pay for, and receive an FAA-issued UAV pilot's license (with re-tests every two years), and then use an app that pings the tower for permission on my behalf every time I want to fly.
That seems like a lot of work to get a $30, 6-ounce, 5-minutes-of-battery-life piece of plastic to hover at roof height for kicks (or to inspect my gutters without having to get out the extension ladder, y'know, if I want to pretend it's for something practical). I guess I'll wait until I move out of the no-fly-zone before I splurge on that new toy.
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