Blankshield

Hunh.  I just saw the guy who changes the lightbulbs up to his elbows rewiring a light fixture.  Which means that, given the way this place works, he's a fully accredited electrician, probably a journeyman.  A journeyman electrician who spends so much of his working day changing burnt out lightbulbs that it took me 9 years to see him doing anything else.

Somehow, the fact that I spend the majority of my own significant printer and PC expertise by being a glorified mover seems less demeaning now.

Isn't it grand how someone else's drudgery can help relieve our own?

James

My mom always had a saying around tax time, when everyone was gettng grumpy about paperwork and reminded that they're giving a crap load of money into the dubious care of our elected personages.

"There are worse problems to have than paying taxes."

It reflects in general the sort of backhanded optimism that my mom maintained in general: that life, while it throws us curveballs and isn't always fun, can be infinately worse.

Recently I've been...put out?  discomfitted?  Something like that, anyway - about the fact that my son is autistic, and I'm not necessarily dealing with it well.  On the spectrum between wading in completely and avoiding like the plague, I'm coming down about halfway.  Raven, and I love her for it, has waded in completely.

But occaisionally, my mother's backhanded optimism creeps in, and I'm reminded of how incredibly lucky and priviledged I am.

I live in a world where I can spend 4 grand on elective surgery so that I don't need to wear glasses.

I live in a new house, in a new neighbourhood, and did not have water pouring into my basement during the recent storms.

I have never, for example, had to deal with a terminal illness.  I have never been through that, I am not visited by a sickening weight if I find a lump somewhere.

I am not a single parent trying to raise my child, work full time and still remain sane.

I do not spend my winters renting a mat and a red cross blanket in a church basement.

I do not have to cope with the physiological consequences of my parent's substance abuse before I was born.

I was not beaten to death in an Iranian prison for taking pictures of a protest.

I do not live in Bangladesh, which is currently 2/3rds under water, where over 300 people have died this year from the flooding and something in excess of  a million people have been forced from their homes.  Many of those people will not have homes to return to.

Yes, having an autistic child is one of those things that's worse than paying taxes, but in a lot of ways, it barely registers on the scale.

This post brought to you by White Upper-Middle-Class Guilt.

James

Less than a month until Gen Con.  I'm contemplating reworking the Wasp and Rafik ship models between now and then to look more like what the actual game art ended up looking like, but I don't actually have to.  The actual work I need to do on those is a couple of hours, tops.  Lego gaming-wise, I've also got much less work to do than I did last time, because while I'm running as many games (almost), I'm running the same game more often, which means I need to pack about a third of what I did last year, and setup will take less time, happen once, and be done.

It's the train show a month later that will be all fun and giggles to prep for.  I've really cut back on my commitment to it this year as well, but I still need to contribute a large area of river valley/Kinsmen field and chunks of high level bridge.

Hopefully though it's still light enough that the rest of my summer will still have room for things that aren't Lego building in the basement.  Winter is supposed to be my Lego time.

James

The weather's broken a little bit, but it's still hot and muggy and I'm still lazy, so here's another rerun.  Edited slightly to reflect that I have comments enabled now, so hopefully I'll get more than the one response I got last time...
 
Saturday, October 25, 2003
Hmm. Thinking today about the Evening of Schmultz and Tragic Romance, and what sort of foods need to be there. Of course any food, presented properly, can be considered romantic - heck, Raven makes a pretty good case for broiled chicken and rice, which normally is about as unromantic as it gets.
 
There are some constants to "romantic" food. Chocolate covered strawberries, fondue, wine, and so forth. Beyond that, it seems to vary wildly from person to person and place to place with only two traits in common:
 
1) It's food for 2. You do not find recipe books with romantic candlelit dinners for 18.
2) It's not simple. Whether it's a multi-course meal, a dish that takes 16 hours to prepare, exotic ingredients from far-off Wonga Wonga Land, or simply a restaurant bill that causes your eyes to cross, the romantic dinner must say "Look what I have done for Love".
 
So, a survey, of sorts: What is your romantic food? What sort of food says "Look what I do for Love" to you?

It's too hot to think or type, so until the weather breaks or I'm somewhere with air conditioning, in lieu of a normal blog, I'm presenting reruns.  Without further ado:
 
Friday, July 11, 2003
Ugh. It's hot. I hate hot. People who have to live with me know this. Other people don't, because when it's hot, I melt. Raven has been known to find a big puddle of James on the couch, or on the laundry room floor, which is the coolest, darkest place in the house. mmm, linoleum.Have I mentioned it's hot?
 
James

ARGGGGHHHH!! Stupid friggin' Place Where I Work firewall! I had a huge freakin' long entry about my eye surgery and it got eaten. grumble grumble bitch.

I went to Vancouver, I had eye surgery, it was good.

Grr.

James

Z+2 days

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Ah cahn see! /suthurn baptist draawl

Surgery went very well; I have a pair of eyes that are functional all on their own time, without needing ground lenses of glass to perceive the world clearly. Probably more on this later, when I'm less tired. For now, suffice it to say that while my vision is still fluctuating a bit, I should retain at least the quality of vision I have now, which means I won't need glasses until I'm old and decrept and need reading glasses.

Vancouver was a nice break, but now I'm back with these kids, in a post-op state of being, and tiring much faster than I think I ought. Fortunately Raven is being the soul of kindness and letting me nap.


Mmmm, nap.

James

z-2 days

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Well, in something less that 12 hours, I will be crawling bleary-eyed onto a plane (why do they let planes fly in the morning? Aren't they worried that the captain might react to mornings the way I do?) and flying to Vancouver, where they will zap my eyes and hopefully usher me into a glassesless existance. Wow, there's a lot of ess's in that word.

It will also hopefully let me catch up on my sleep, becuase that's what they tell you to do for the first 24 hours or so: sleep. They give you a mild sedative (optional) and send you to a nice dark hotel room where you are encouraged to laze about all day. Personally, I think the high price tag of the operation is not the operation, it's to be a disincentive to people taking advantage of that. "Send me to a dark hotel room with no interruptions and tell me to sleep? Where do I sign up! Can I do this every weekend?" Or perhaps parents aren't a core segment of their target market...

James

Z-4 days I'm all a twitter.

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Ok, I'm not all a twitter. I'm not entirely certain if I'm capable of being all a twitter, but it seemed the thing to say.

We're back from Quad War, and had a good weekend of it. Raven sold a boatload of cloaks to people who packed for warm weather. Or dry weather. Or any weather that wasn't road-washing-out horrible. On Sunday morning we did a brisk business in the "free heat" business - we hung a sign outside the door that said "free heat, come in and dry off!" and people did. People like poor Phil who woke up in a pool of water, half a soaked sleeping bag and no dry clothes.

Given the weather, it's definately a good thing that I went back to Edmonton to pick up our store on Friday night, having (like a great big ninny) not realized I didn't have it when I left for work Monday morning. Sigh. Thanks to Iodi for pseudo-volunteering to make the drive with me so that I didn't go into the ditch or anything equally dumb after driving for 10 or 11 hours that day.

I, by the way, enjoy having a cabin. It occured to me, in an amusing sort of way, that while the weather was rough for other folks, it was great for people who live in cabins instead of tents, and sell outerwear. Maybe I should start doing a raindance before every Quad...

James

Z-8 days

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It's two in the morning. Do you know where your bed is?

I know where mine is - it's in the garage, because that's where I just finished making it. Go me!

Now I'm going to crawl upstairs and into my other bed.

James