I don't always have such a hectic schedule, but we are already gearing up for fall. I ended up working the full day AND having to work the night shift as well. I barely had an hour between picking Drew up from soccer camp and my 5pm shift at reference. I needed to get him home and grab something for dinner before dashing back. As I was driving home, wilting a bit from the heat, I thought of the crystal clear pool in our complex, how pristine and inviting the water always looked. I calculated the minutes. If I played my cards right and settled for grabbing a frozen dinner, I could squeeze in a half hour of swimming.
Drew was shocked when I suggested it, interrupting him mid-sentence. He blinked, thought a minute, then agreed. It was settled. We would hit the pool as soon as we could shuck our day clothes, slide into our bathing suits and dash over to the pool. We walked around the back side of the buildings so as not to be in the public view in our swim wear, carefully picking our way around some doggie doodoo.
Drew flipped the gate latch, we signed in, greeted the lifeguard (lovely young lady), and threw our towel and shorts on a deck chair. I chose to walk down the three steps in the shallow end of the pool. Eeek - the water feels chilly. Its hard to force yourself to keep stepping deeper into the inviting but frigid blueness. Once you reach waist deep, there's no going back. You finally take the final plunge and you're in.
Drew, on the other hand, jumped directly into the deep end. I think instantly of the Bishop of Calcutta, a British missionary who jumped into the Ganges River and died of shock. Too drastic a temperature change could be bad for your health! We swim back and forth, Drew plays underwater, walking down the slope between the shallow and deep sides. He laughs that the three foot depth doesn't even come up to his waist. He has really grown!
I finally tear myself away, knowing that if I cut it too close, I won't get back on time and my colleague will get stuck at the desk when she could be home swimming too. I scurry back to the apartment, trying to rush changing clothes - not easy when everything is wet and sticking to you. I make it back to work with 1 minute to spare. Whew! But I sure do feel refreshed. Its enough to get me through the rest of the evening. How delicious!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Lightning
The day was glorious - a magical summer day with blue skies and puffy white clouds, warm temperatures not hot and just the right amount of breeze to clear your head without blowing sand in your eyes. I so wished my workspace were outside (I gave serious consideration to taking a laptop to the portico to see if I could get wireless leakage there).
Mid afternoon, the sky to the east grew ominously dark and suddenly, from my vantage point at the reference desk, I saw the heavens open and the rain pour down so hard the air seemed white with froth. Rain bounced off the metal siding, drummed on car roofs, deluged the muddy spots where grass had been trampled away, streamed in rivulets down the new sidewalk, and pooled on the blacktop in the parking lot. I am thankful my office is not outside!
People dashed across campus, scurrying for shelter, holding notebooks or newspapers over their heads in hopes of fending off some of the drenching, but to no avail. Four or five students burst through the library front doors, laughing and breathless, water dripping from their faces, their sandals squeaking in useless protest.
Five minutes later, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the birds were singing, the dark skies vanishing to the north. My guardian angel was hard pressed to keep me dry as I ran my late afternoon errands. The weather was so schizophrenic there was no way to predict when the cloudbursts would suddenly overtake you and when they would let up.
Well into the evening thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and power came and went. My evening meeting to learn the new church music database was rudely interrupted by a power outage that I later learned was from a downed utility pole several miles away on Buffalo Road. I had to take a different route home. We changed our plans and worked on weeding the music collection until it was just too dark outside to illuminate the pages of printed music, forcing us to give up.
As I lay in bed trying to sleep, the sky poofed alive with unpredictably irregular flashes of lightning and the heavy air cracked with loud surges of thunder. Sometimes you could hear the pounding rain, other times a mournful train whistle brought close by the humidity. There's nothing quite like a New York storm front venting its fury on innocent bystanders, taming the sweltering heat and washing the grist from the atmosphere.
Mid afternoon, the sky to the east grew ominously dark and suddenly, from my vantage point at the reference desk, I saw the heavens open and the rain pour down so hard the air seemed white with froth. Rain bounced off the metal siding, drummed on car roofs, deluged the muddy spots where grass had been trampled away, streamed in rivulets down the new sidewalk, and pooled on the blacktop in the parking lot. I am thankful my office is not outside!
People dashed across campus, scurrying for shelter, holding notebooks or newspapers over their heads in hopes of fending off some of the drenching, but to no avail. Four or five students burst through the library front doors, laughing and breathless, water dripping from their faces, their sandals squeaking in useless protest.
Five minutes later, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the birds were singing, the dark skies vanishing to the north. My guardian angel was hard pressed to keep me dry as I ran my late afternoon errands. The weather was so schizophrenic there was no way to predict when the cloudbursts would suddenly overtake you and when they would let up.
Well into the evening thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and power came and went. My evening meeting to learn the new church music database was rudely interrupted by a power outage that I later learned was from a downed utility pole several miles away on Buffalo Road. I had to take a different route home. We changed our plans and worked on weeding the music collection until it was just too dark outside to illuminate the pages of printed music, forcing us to give up.
As I lay in bed trying to sleep, the sky poofed alive with unpredictably irregular flashes of lightning and the heavy air cracked with loud surges of thunder. Sometimes you could hear the pounding rain, other times a mournful train whistle brought close by the humidity. There's nothing quite like a New York storm front venting its fury on innocent bystanders, taming the sweltering heat and washing the grist from the atmosphere.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Fixed!
Two minor problems with the new place: the refrigerator froze everything even on the lowest setting, and the dishwasher didn't have any water going into it. I sighed with total lack of enthusiasm. I hate trying to convince someone else that something doesn't work and that I am not just a clueless nincompoop who just doesn't know how to do stuff.
In the previous complex, I had a list of things that needed fixing created during our "walk through" on move in. It was a good twenty or thirty broken items that, granted were small, but little irritations that would have been nice to have had fixed.
The few items the office sent a maintenance person over to address had to be redone at least two or three times before they worked - and those were major things like heat or water leaks. I heard that over the course of the year I lived there they fired four of their five maintenance men because of incompetence. Maybe, but they still didn't fix stuff in my place, and after awhile, you give up. Its hard not to think that somehow you just don't deserve to live in a place where things work! Am I too poor? Too female? Too old? Too uneducated (that can't be it). Too what?
So with some small amount of dread, I went to the office Sunday afternoon to report the situation. I have to admit, my expectations were low. And being the weekend, I was sure no one would appear until at least Monday. The weekend office person (amazing that they are open on Sunday!) had a little trouble with the concept that the freezer thaws and the refrigerator freezes, but she faithfully typed into the computer what I said and assured me that someone would be by first thing Monday to have a look see.
Monday on the drive home from work, I was curious whether anyone had looked at the appliances. Even if they had, they probably would have to order parts or some such thing. I didn't hold out much hope. We parked in our assigned spot (how glorious not to have to park a mile away because the neighbors all get home before you and take the close spaces!) and trudged up the stairs.
There on the door hung a pink slip. Yes, they had come, looked and FIXED both appliances!!! I was shocked, amazed, delighted, dubious. I would not believe they were working properly until I tried them out. Sure enough, the dishwasher rinsed and the freezer froze. I give it a few days, but some small spark of hope ignited. How wonderful to be taken seriously and to be treated well for a change. You get so tired of having to fight for every little thing. Maybe my experience-based cynicism will clear up a tad.
In the previous complex, I had a list of things that needed fixing created during our "walk through" on move in. It was a good twenty or thirty broken items that, granted were small, but little irritations that would have been nice to have had fixed.
The few items the office sent a maintenance person over to address had to be redone at least two or three times before they worked - and those were major things like heat or water leaks. I heard that over the course of the year I lived there they fired four of their five maintenance men because of incompetence. Maybe, but they still didn't fix stuff in my place, and after awhile, you give up. Its hard not to think that somehow you just don't deserve to live in a place where things work! Am I too poor? Too female? Too old? Too uneducated (that can't be it). Too what?
So with some small amount of dread, I went to the office Sunday afternoon to report the situation. I have to admit, my expectations were low. And being the weekend, I was sure no one would appear until at least Monday. The weekend office person (amazing that they are open on Sunday!) had a little trouble with the concept that the freezer thaws and the refrigerator freezes, but she faithfully typed into the computer what I said and assured me that someone would be by first thing Monday to have a look see.
Monday on the drive home from work, I was curious whether anyone had looked at the appliances. Even if they had, they probably would have to order parts or some such thing. I didn't hold out much hope. We parked in our assigned spot (how glorious not to have to park a mile away because the neighbors all get home before you and take the close spaces!) and trudged up the stairs.
There on the door hung a pink slip. Yes, they had come, looked and FIXED both appliances!!! I was shocked, amazed, delighted, dubious. I would not believe they were working properly until I tried them out. Sure enough, the dishwasher rinsed and the freezer froze. I give it a few days, but some small spark of hope ignited. How wonderful to be taken seriously and to be treated well for a change. You get so tired of having to fight for every little thing. Maybe my experience-based cynicism will clear up a tad.
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