The link provided will take you to a blog posting concerning digital display photo frames and key chains. Evidently manufacturers have packaged their items with a holiday bonus - a virus.
Take a moment to read the post and to take defensive action if necessary.
The following blog contains the instructions for making an atomic bomb. Could be a bit useful during science fair week.
Sometimes I just can't help myself
Sadie trying to hide.
Argus, never one to catch on real quickly.
Note the look of confusion, poor guy
Relaxing after their fashion show
I would like to provide you with an introduction to your mother. You see dear Mia, there was a time when her hair was reaaaal short on the left side and reaaaaaaal long and many colors on the right. Oh, and the eye liner...don't worry that it extends past the eye a bit....it was drawn on that way. Stick with me Mia, I've got the goods on Mom.
Love Aunt Cindi
Breaking the Norm
by Laura Carton
Is unique different at WHS? Some people think all Worthington students are clones of each other. Mimi, however, is definitely unique. Her different look makes her more of an individual. "I'm not really making a political statement. I just don't want to be like everyone else, " remarked Mimi, a junior.
Labels don't have much of a definition and the word 'punk' conjures up many different impressions in a person' mind. Mimi, for this reason, does not like to be called 'punk.' "punk classifies people too much," Mimi said. When Mimi was in grade school her sister (ME) used to do her hair. She would put different braids and hair styles together. Mimi would go to school like this. "I really didn't care. I thought it was kind of fun," she recalled.
During the summer of her eighth grade year, Mimi saw a movie that had a great impression on her: Purple Rain (Me again). "I really liked the different make-up and hair styles that I saw in the movie. I guess I started experimenting with that myself."
Although Mimi's style is not the 'norm,' it doesn't mean she is into the "wrong" things; yet Mom and Dad were still a little worried. "when I dyed my hair white, my dad really got upset. He thought that this was more than it was. He was worried about drugs."
Mimi doesn't do drugs, but she does like to have fun...(insert comments about bands playing at alcohol serving establishments...then question how that works for a junior in high school)
...Most of the teachers are pretty cool, but some look at me like I'm nuts and shouldn't be in school." Mimi doesn't have a job right now (she's a junior in high school for goodness sake) She would love to get a job as a fashion designer in New York.
Edie and I went through middle school and high school together. We've been friends through at least 4 presidents. We use to sit together and try to figure out how OLD we will be in the year 2000. Imagine my surprise when the year came and went and nothing catastrophic happened.
Edie and her mother provided my first exposure to cats. Edie's mom had Mozel. Mozel was a talker, and Edie's mom would always encourage conversation. I of course thought they were nuts. Cat's can't talk and surely they don't hold a two way conversation. Or do they?
Long after Edie had moved across the country, I adopted a cat, and she is the only animal or human that I've been allowed to name. My cat's name was Kitty. Thank goodness I wasn't allowed to name my kids, or they would be he and she. More digression.
Edie and I both started growing up in the same city - St. Louis and ironically we continued growing up in the same city - but this time we knew each other. Having both lived in StL and not knowing each other allowed for instant comradery and lots to talk about. Beer and baseball. Actually there was a bit more, Shopping at Plaza Frontenac.
The only thorn in my side as far as our friendship is concerned is birthdays!! Edie always remembers mine, and by golly I remember hers, which is only a handful of days after mine. But by golly I can't get a birthday card to her on time if my life depended on it. I have thought about saving the receipts so I can at least show her that I purchased the card on time.
Image what a relief I felt when I discovered Martha Cards. Martha is such a wonderful and thoughtful person. She provided greeting cards and a calendar. You tell her what and to who - like magic the Martha Elves get cards out on time. They don't sign them of course so it's blatantly staring you in the face ...She didn't send this herself - she ORDERED it!!
So I contracted with Martha to make sure that Edie got her Birthday card on time for years to come. We all know how that ended - Martha teaching knitting in her spare time and the card shop folded.
Now what was I to do? Well, I could email her a birthday wish - I could purchase a card early (done) and send it to her early (not done). I could graciously accept her birthday wishes and reciprocate them (nope, just thanked her profusely.)
So here I sit, with Edie's birthday card, yet unsigned. Her email riding the waves of my IN Box, as I don't have nerve to delete it prior to responding. So, standing on my soap box, usually reserved for my adopt a retired greyhound sermons....
to say:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDIE!!!
Yes, another late one, but at least Thanksgiving isn't here yet!!!
I am beside myself with pride. I was able to successfully boil 6 eggs this morning!! I followed my previous directions, but this time allowed for more time to bring the water to a boil - a total of 22 minutes.
Sarah will be happy as there is a tinge of green gunk on the yolks, but they're solid!!
For my second try as cooking the mundane, Green Bean Casserole. I do believe that it's the state food of Ohio. The recipe looks fairly strait forward. The entire recipe is based around packaging, except for the green beans. Could someone please let me know how many cans are involved in 8 cups of cut green beans?
What's even more disturbing, green beans are packaged by weight and now they want me to measure volume. Any 6th grader worth their math can tell you that one cannot compare liquid measurements to those of solids.
GBC (green bean casserole) updates to come.
5 eggs in a small sauce pan, cover with cold water, turn heat on medium, bring water to boil and allow eggs to cook for 11 minutes then run under cold water to stop the cooking process. So I set the timer for 16 minutes. Five minutes for the water to come to a boil and 11 minutes of cooking time.
Daughter is sniffing around for breakfast and mom says, I have hard boiled eggs. Daughter is thrilled, as she likes them and thought that one would make a nice breakfast. The next thing I hear, "Mom, you should have cooked them longer." Why, I asked. "Because the insides were mushy and there was no green on the outside of the yolk."
No green!!! I was successful! Let me see the egg, I said to her. To which Sean states, "She gave it to the dog." All three dogs are still on their feet, so it must have been perfect, as I can't stand green scum on my egg yolks. Basking in my triumph, I bring two eggs with me to work.
I slowly, with great expectation, peeled the shell off and marveled at my accomplishment! I put a little salt on the egg and took my fist bite. Not bad, the egg has the proper consistency...I don't know what Sarah was talking about. Second bite...No green scum on the egg yolk, but...
The egg white is the important part to eat anyway, isn't it. No need for the yolk, <throwing it in the trash>. At least the yolk had enough consistency to allow me to throw it out!! Stay tuned...Boil Water v3.0 can't be far away...
I must say, I think my parents must be spectacular. Why? Because I'm still alive today.
Today, there was a warning on the news about roll up blinds and how they should be removed from the home, as a child could become rolled up in the blinds. OMG! What in the world happened to telling a child no, that's not a toy? When my son was insisting on biting his friends at daycare if they angered him, the director called asking for help concerning this behavior.
The politically correct way to discipline a biter LESS THAN 2 YEARS OLD is to explain to them that they need to use their words and make better choices. They're two!! I told the director to spank the child and tell him NO! Well, that's not allowed. Well then I thought, it's up to the adults there to make better choices.
If you cant/won't discipline a child, if you don't teach and demonstrate when necessary, what is right and wrong, you'll be in a world of hurt later. Put some trust in the child, believe that you've done all you can and then let the child lead a normal life. I didn't cover each electrical outlet, I didn't pad all the corners in my home. I teach my children the proper way to respect a stove. I didn't lock down my cabinets, I told my children no. When they would mouth off, I would clean their dirty mouths with dish soap.
It's incredible how peaceful life can be with a child who knows how to behave, and not struggle with words and choices.
by Paul C. Dahm
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food and water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: They miss someone very special to them; who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. The bright eyes are intent; the eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to break away from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. YOU have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...
Thursday was to be the day that Canine Cam produced the evidence. I was going to outsmart the dogs. Since it seemed as though Argie would sleep all day, I would put the camera on Sadie. I excitedly put the collar and camera on Sadie, put the gate up and told the pups to have a good day.
This is the best picture that I got from Argus. Evidently he's once again lounging on the floor. I figured that from Sadie I would get something other than the floor.
Like I said, she got the collar and the camera, and I went to work. The mistake I made Thursday was not going home at lunch. I gave them the whole day to be alone. This was the first time in over a year that they were free on the inside.
I've always told people that Sadie is my smart dog, Argus is the good looking dog and well, Jake is the Perfect Dog. So, here's what happened as best I can figure out. Sadie, once she realized we weren't coming back, began conspiring. She showed Argus that she now had the camera...he responded by rolling over.
Prancing around with the camera, Sadie saw a myriad of things to do. Click went the camera. Sadie checked out all the magnets on the refrigerator, click. Every fifteen minutes of Sadie's exploration was caught in pixels.The Army has a motto of "No Man Left Behind," dogs have a motto of No Evidence Left Behind. Evidence such as the photos neatly stored on her neck.
Sadie looked at Argus who was now - well, he hasn't moved for an hour or so - Psst, she said, help me get this thing off of my neck. Argus didn't have to work real hard, as the human (read as me) didn't bother to resize the collar, so it slipped off of her head with relative ease. Sadie methodically went about chewing up the camera, and the collar that it came on. She then set about exploring and chewing, chewing and exploring.
Suffice to say, there is no more canine cam, and of course no evidence of what the dogs were into. Next though is the web cam. Stay tuned for the next installment of Canine Cam, the motion pictures.
As many have seen and heard, I have three dogs. Perfect Dog and two shepherds. I've been working very hard to acclimate Sadie and Argus to life inside without supervision. It's been a long road full of tuff love. I love the dogs and my husband says tuff, they're going outside.
We did the conditioning, leaving them for minutes, then working it up to hours - always returning so that they get a sense of security. Argus is all for security, as he's been off of Puppy Prozac for some time now. So, when I saw the Canine Cam...digital camera to clip on dog collar, I was thrilled. I can set the camera to take pictures every one, five or fifteen minutes. The camera holds up to 35 pictures and connects to the computer by USB.
Today was the big day...first day alone ALL day. I don't know who was more excited, me to be utilizing such state of the art technology, or the dogs, not having to entertain themselves outside for 8 hours.
Eleven a.m. roughly marked the day's half way point. I was so excited to go home for lunch, with gas at $1.86 per gallon, it was a trip I could make. Onward home I went. I told a couple co-workers who knew about Canine Cam that I was going home. I went in the house and was met by two snarling dogs. I checked for damage...none. I took the camera off Argus and put the two outside.
I plugged the camera in, placed the photos into Picasa, selected the edit view and then nothing. I tried all of the digital enhancement gadgets available. Only one photo is halfway worthy of publishing and that's my kitchen light. I didn't fool myself into expecting anything worthy of Better Homes & Gardens, but shoot something more exciting than proof of a 4 hour nap would have been good.
I put the camera back onto Argie's collar. Hopefully he'll catch Sadie with her paws on the counter and her nose in the icing. Then at least I'll have something to laugh about.
I try to expose my children as much as possible to processes that children and some adults may find unpleasant. From the time each was born, they went to the dentist with me for the semi-annual cleanings. I have no trouble getting them in a dentist chair, and sometimes have a hard time getting them out of the office.
Last night they were both with me when I donated a pint of blood. I really don't understand what the difficulty is for people. Case in point, after September 11, 2001 the Red Cross had more blood on hand than they could use. Now we once again hear about blood shortages. As one who consistently has to have my blood spun to see if I am eligible, image my embarrassment when I sat down yesterday and told the nurse that she should bypass the drop test and just spin me. The nurse smiled and said, we don't do that anymore.
I then asked, since when? Which right away clued her in to the fact that I don't "come there often". Since July she told me. The bigger embarrassment followed - I haven't donated blood since March 2008. I'm not quite sure why giving a pint is so difficult for people. It's very tedious, answering questions and all - but for the most part, the process has been automated.
For those needle phobic, I've only had to stop the digging once. If you drink plenty of fluid (water) before donation, your veins pop right up. Except for one or two, I've never had any issue with the needle pushers. For most adults, the actual donation procedure only takes about 5 minutes.
If you really want to have fun with the process, take a friend and have a pint race. This will require the cooperation from the nurses, but all they have to do is make sure you both are ready to go at the same time, and then pull the clamps in unison. The first one to fill their pint wins.
If you drink enough water before you go, 4.5 minutes is not unreasonable. When you're done, you get a cookie or two, a cute little bottle of water, and the satisfaction of knowing that you very well may save a life. My children will continue to accompany me, and when they're eligible, I'll accompany them.
When it rains, it pours. (Sorry Morton's) I have two shepherds who haven't yet earned the ability to stay inside all day, so they have a kennel area, complete with dog house for their daily enjoyment. These two though, haven't quite learned to come in out of the rain.
Here's Argus in all his muddy glory. I've not looked to see how bad the area is, but they sure must have had fun. Fortunately there's a shop nearby that has self serve bathing areas just for muddy puppies. I can't decide if they like the bath so much that they purposefully roll in the mud to go there. Sadie is the sable shepherd and she was just as dirty this time. But I'm happy to say that they're both soft and clean staying warm inside.
After five long and 
As you can see, one coat of Kilz is not going to make the paper disappear. So we cracked open gallon number two, put on a fresh pot of coffee and started the process again.
Sarah, project manager in training, never stopped asking about out timeline. Saturday was the first deadline, her girlfriends were coming over to spend the night and she wanted her room completed by then. Start on Tuesday - I could be done by Saturday. That gave me a nice casual time line. A little paint on this wall, a little paint on that wall.
Alas, there was to be no leisure painting. Sarah was determined that Tuesday was paint day and that was it. I then instructed our runner to get Princess Paint her own roller. Princess Paint then went to work. 
I would like to say that I looked and looked for a house that was decorated specifically for the furniture that I was bringing with me. That's not quite the story, but it is how everything turned out, everything that is except Sarah's room.
Her room was decorated in primary colors, and Princess Paint was more of a pastel princess than a primary princess. She was very patient though and only began politicking for paint this past year. Hush, I would tell her - we'll get it done. Trying to bypass mom she would ask her dad. His answer was when the wallpaper comes down, the paint will go up.
As you can see, Mom didn't wait for the paper to come down, instead she waited until dad left town. Comfortably watching the snow fall in North Dakota while attending Army school, 
Many years ago (read as decades) my uncle ran into some very judgmental people in the Cleveland area, which has tainted his opinion of the entire state of Ohio. I've tried and tried to change his mine, to illustrate that in the 21st century, we're not all that bad. Then election year 2008 rolls around and I'm at a loss for words.
A judge not more than three weeks ago ruled that the homeless can register to vote utilizing a park bench or other such landmark as their 'home address'. Now, explain to me Batman, how they are to prove their residency like the rest of us must?
I've let that roll around in my brain until it became a waste of good time to try to find logic in the ruling. Then the "big" news story became the length of lines people are standing in to vote early. Help me dear logic, to explain what these people are thinking. They are waiting in lines upward of five or six hours to avoid waiting in line on election day.
I have now conceded my defense of Ohio. I have a hard enough time not using "I was born blonde" as an excuse when I don't understand. So, if anyone can assist me and explain these two nuggets of information, I welcome the response.
RE: Comment
I have no issue with allowing the homeless to vote in federal elections - this would eliminate the "proof of residency". However, there has to be a better way to regulate the vote once aspect. Perhaps the ink on the finger as they did in Iraq. Something needs to be done at the onset to eliminate the possibility of abuse.
At the risk of sounding like I'm just the best cook around, there are a couple of things I do very well. I can bake a cheesecake that people actually pay me for. I can bake Oatmeal cookies that are to die for. I make a mean spaghetti and have been known to be called an ace with Hamburger Helper.
I can't though - boil water. That's not completely true. I can boil water and turn it into Mrs. Grass Chicken Noodle Soup. I can boil water to cook pasta in. I can boil water for the sake of cooking anything BUT eggs.
Speaking of eggs, I've mastered the over-easy - look no spatula flip. I can make a mean omelette, I even taught my daughter how to scramble an egg. Imagine my surprise when I flunked Hard Cooked eggs 101.
In the past month, I've been hard cooking my eggs so the kids can have a good snack when they get home. Those egg yolks were bright yellow, but not quite done, so the yolk wasn't completely solid. But also of note, there wasn't green ick all around the yolk either.
Figuring that I was so close to perfect once, I'll be able to do it again, I read over my Emeril recipe for Fail-Proof hard cooked eggs. Yes Virginia, there is such a document, and yes, I have more than one copy of it. So I got out my pan, put the eggs in the bottom, filled it with cool tap water, placed it on the stove and turned the heat to medium as directed.
Once the boil starts, I was to let the eggs cook for 11 minutes, remove from heat and place eggs in a cold water bath to stop the cooking process. I have a college degree, my chosen field is in IT. One would think that I would be able to set a kitchen timer to 11 minutes and then stop the cooking process with cold water.
However, this whole process depends on my hearing that the water is boiling. I never heard it boil. In fact, I never heard anything except my exclamation of Oh Shit when I remembered that a watched pot never boils but an unwatched one boils very quietly. I was able to get to my eggs in time. In time for what - who knows, but under the faucet they went.
I'm somewhat proud of myself at this point, providing a nutritious snack for my children. I take two of my achievements to work for lunch. I peel the first one around lunch time. I get a good look at the green ick. The yolk has no flavor and lots of ick. Heck, I thought, the egg white is the only part that's good for you anyway...trashed the yolks, ate the white. It was a struggle to get through all my eggs (six I think) but I made it.
Then last night saw my attempt to do this again. Again I forgot one important part, the whole watched pot again. This time I didn't have time for the casual Oh Shit. This time I went running into the kitchen to find my eggs lying in the sauce pot, essentially frying. If one can have oysters on the half shell, can we not have eggs in the whole shell?
I brought my camera into the kitchen to capture my masterpiece for the blog, but there really wasn't anything catastrophic to see besides some green ick and egg whites that are so dense one wonders if this is how they discovered super balls. I did try it one more time last night. The dogs had a great dinner, Green Eggs & Dog Kibble. They were in heaven though, so who am I to tell them I wouldn't even feed these eggs to the dogs, but wait....I DID
Without looking at the obvious, what would this candidate do for me, let's look at what they've done. There's a lot of verbiage concerning Sarah Palin and her six figure wardrobe. Ms. Palin, by way of nomination, has found herself in a very awkward place. Wear anything short of fabulous and she gets trash for "what was she thinking?" But spend some extra money to look nice, remember folks it's that suit that will be representative of all of us. Or have the world look at Ms. Palin and state...that's the best we can do?
Likewise, let's look at Mr. IHaveEnoughMoneyToMakeYouWatchThis. He made a very valiant effort to take over our airwaves and thus force feed us his opinion. This reminds me of those governments we fought against...those governments who believe they're big and strong enough to take away our options so that we have no choice other than watching his rhetoric.
So, what's the best for America? Suits that will later be given to those less fortunate so that they can interview for a job with confidence? (Isn't that what SHE is doing?) Or a man who believes he has the right to force his beliefs on us?
This country is based on our individual right to make informed decisions. Didn't the television saturation cover this up?
RE: Sarah's Suits... http://www.dressforsuccess.org/
Friday morning in Atlanta started early. It wasn't really early for me, rather right on time. Fortunately the DoubleTree Inn had Wolfgang Puck coffee makers in every room. When I think of Mr. Puck, my first thought is pizza, not coffee, but coffee it was, Sumatra to be exact. Being an avid coffee drinker, with cream - I had myself set up early. Lots of the little one cup packets from the front desk, and a bar tender gave me 8oz of REAL coffee cream, the kind that needs to be refrigerated.
Andy Rooney once did a bit on Half and Half. He likes his Shredded Wheat in the morning with Half and Half...I just needed for my coffee, but he marveled at all the chemical sounding items that can be put in a carton that's suppose to be half milk and half cream. It's those fancy chemicals that take away the need to be refrigerated. I'm digressing.
Thursday night I had checked in and printed boarding passes for all my traveling companions. I didn't upgrade seats for $5 each, just printed the boarding passes. I placed each boarding pass in an envelope to facilitate it's usage. Little did I know all my work was actually worthless, useless and a regular waste of ink and time.
Off to breakfast I go, thinking someone would join me. I started with enough tables to seat 8. As time went on, people sat in my saved tables, but they weren't the people I was saving them for. I finally gave up and left. When you're around long enough, the waiter learns your name. Excuse me Cindi, do you mind if I set the jellies on the tables. Excuse me...water glasses, silver ware...and No, I wasn't here early enough to help the kitchen cook, just early enough to disrupt the table prep.
Up stairs I went, finished packing my bags, gathering my items and returning downstairs to check out. As I rounded the corner, guess who I saw? Everyone who was suppose to "meet me" early in the morning. Unfortunately I didn't remember to ask what time zone they'll be operating out of. When they sat for breakfast at 8am, it was really 4am in Hawaii, so technically they were extremely early.
Whatever, not arguing - after all, it was getting close to nap time for me. They ate breakfast, we all mumbled about last nights dinner, contemplated what was going to be happening today and what cars were we going to be in. Pack the cars and off to Roundbox we go. But wait...Derek is getting a text message.
Holy ISP providers Batman, they pulled the plug. Seems party B didn't pay party A so party A pulled the plug on innocent bystander C. No access, no application, no nothing. Zilch, nada, nothing. Oh, but wait...what am I seeing? The Verizon network of course. You may laugh at the commercial, but when I whip out the broadband card and I'm the only one connected to the virtual world, well - I'm special...half bus special.
No network, no big food decisions, actually no connectivity except for me. All of a sudden it was good to be me. For exactly two minutes before my computer was taken over in a bit of Eminent Domain muscle flexing. So the day crawls along, the clock ticks by - lunch was a big decision now, as there really wasn't a lot to do except troll the Internet for restaurants nearby. Spoon it was. Ironically all of the Roundbox folks chose this time to go out for a long and arduous Friday lunch. The big question now was would they return prior to our departure?
Stay tuned, that was just the beginning of the day...the end of the day is much much longer and well, probably just as minimally exciting.
A few may have noticed the trash can in the photos from the Atlanta trip. I promised the those on the trip that my mistakes will be highlighted as well as everyone else.
So as we're walking down terminal B for the umpteenth time, I decided to be a nice civilian and throw my trash away. Pushing on the silver area did not open the trash can. Pulling down the handle didn't open the trash can. I kept moving though, I didn't want to be the person who was caught wrestling the trash can to the ground.
Then I handed my trash to King Quality and told him that if my inability to throw my trash away was so funny, he could do it. Mark took my trash, held the handle, opened the trash can and placed my refuse in the proper place.
Fast forward an hour or so, we're watching CNN on the flat screen when we're introduced to the public service announcement. Mark pointed it out to me. Evidently he considered this the training video for the complex refuse container. When the video/commercial was over, he handed me a piece of scrap paper to see how much I learned.
In my defense, the trash cans are also compactors and don't open when they're compacting. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Most people who know me, know that I have Perfect Dog. Well, Perfect Dog is getting old, and I've got two shepherds to soften the blow when he does move onto the Rainbow Bridge.
So as Jake (perfect dog) was sleeping, Argus was lounging and Sadie was exploring. When Sadie gets herself caught behind a closed door, no one is in a hurry to assist her. She'll bark and she'll wait. Then she'll bark again. Suddenly Argus noticed that she was missing, and barking.
As he lumbered to his feet, Sarah and I suggested to him that he go get Sadie. We were doing math homework and really didn't think it necessary to save the damsel in distress. She had other ideas and boofed again.
That's when Argus perked his ears and went charging up the steps. Next thing I know they're playing their way down to their favorite wrestling spot in the front room.
Never fear, Underdog is here!!
Many decades ago, a mom (had to be a mom, dads couldn't come up with this brilliance) created Garanimals. This allowed children to select matching outfits by matching the animal tags. All the Giraffes matched, all the hippos matched, etc.
Fast forward to Thursday night. On our way back to the hotel from the Cantina, we passed the best idea in clothing since Garanimals. We drove past the Dress Code Warehouse. Essentially Garanimals for adults. Please note that nothing in this post is fact except for the stores name.
As you walk into the store, there's a map of where you can find items. Alan's corner is in the far back right. It consists of white cotton button down shirts. In the far back left corner is the counterpart the the white oxford. In that corner you'll find the blue oxford button down. The center aisle contains khaki pants. All shapes, all sizes, one color. Khaki.
On the left wall is the Ladies Mix-N-Match. Her, like Garanimals, you match tags. Do you want that nifty polyester suit? Select the 1970's John Travolta tag. This tagging system comes in very handy for men. Whether they're purchasing clothes for themselves and don't want tax themselves too much to make things match, or for their significant other, they can be quite impressive bringing home an entire wardrobe of coordinated outfits.
Although we did not have the time to visit the Dress Code Warehouse, and can only speculate what is found within it's walls...From experiencing the dress code that we did, we can't imagine what is in there. If anyone knows, please let us know.
The Mission: Travel to Atlanta, gather information, return to Columbus,
disseminate information.
The cast: Neeraj & Alan - Captains of the ship; Todd and Paul - Engineers;
Brian - Logistics officer; Mark - King Quality; Derek - Historian; and me -
House Mom & Documentation Diva.
_______________________________________________
There are many cliches that I could channel right now, but the one that
best encompasses this trip is - You never really know someone until you
travel with them.
Let's start with Alan. Always appears put together, crisp white shirts.
Winter finds him dressed equally as dapper. Alan is a project manager, who
can pick up the scraps of a project, put them into pieces and put the
pieces together to make the picture. So why would he (he who works in the
technology field) not check in online and avoid bottle neck #1 AND hand the
ticket agent an EXPIRED DRIVER'S LICENSE? If you know Alan, ask him about
his driver's license and airport security...
Note, there's no mention of the missing Crackberry.
We all take our seats in the Daddy Van - Captain Neeraj at the controls as
we wind our way out of the Avis parking lot. Garmin is plugged in and Brian
gets out the supplemental instructions, furnished by Al Al.
King Quality and I are in seat number 2. As those in charge of quality, one
of our primary tasks is to create user stories and test cases. Indulge me
for a moment as we savor the ability to watch those who don't write and
execute test cases become the object of our testing.
Starting Condition: Competent adults with above-average processors and one
vehicle with which to transport us.
One automated test (Garmin) and an alternative path. At the starting gate,
Neeraj declares some of the initial constraints - vehicle has sustained
damage prior to our test case. Beginning constraints so noted, Neeraj
announces our first change request: He's going to drive like an 80 year old
man.
This had an immediate impact on the test case. We're at the first check
point in the case, a stop sign.
IF USER SELECTS LEFT
Then continue on success path to next checkpoint
ELSE
Take user on a driving tour of Atlanta Airport
Turns out the 80 year old driver - aka primary actor - aka Captain Neeraj -
did not see the, "All outbound traffic turn left" sign. I can understand
that though, as an 80 year old may have difficulty seeing the 4 foot by 7
foot sign positioned 20 feed straight ahead of the stopped vehicle.
Defect count: 1
Severity - Minor
Impact - Incredibly humorous story with life cycle of at least one year.
Remainder of alternate test case completed without incident.
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We arrive at our destination, partake in introductions, receive a brief
orientation and settle down for an afternoon of discovery. Discovery being
a double entendre. We discover business culture in a rehabbed warehouse -
dog friendly.
We discovered that the climate of where your home office is drives the
definition of business casual.
Columbus Ohio - rolling into the fall season - all appendages aptly
protected.
Atlanta Georgia - Dude, it's shorts and T-shirt weather, 3/4 of the year.
Costa Rica - Tropics, tans and skin is in.
The different variations in garments caused some issues. Fortunately we had
no fatal errors, although we had some processor performance issues at
times. Some processors halted function and needed a swift kick to refocus -
otherwise known as the reboot.
Our hosts were gracious enough to provide lunch for us - Pizza from Papa
Johns. Nationally known pizza for lunch sparked the search for dinner. This
is where Mark, King Quality takes over our process.
When Mark came to our company, he came with a stellar record - Only one
major production defect in many years of quality responsibility.
This my casual readers, translates to a keen eye for detail and a very
strict definition of what constitutes quality.
So what do we do? Collectively we allow him to select our location for
evening dining. Channeling Rachel Ray, he comes up with the Atlanta Fish
Market.
When anyone asked who Rachel Ray was, his response was to direct us to her
Traveling on $40 per day show on Food Network. I'm not sure what show Mark
was watching when the fish market was mentioned, but the $40 in this case
was per entree per person, definitely not the per day per person that was
advertised.
So back to RBX in Suite 100 with it's men in shorts and T-shirts and it's
women from Costa Rica...
We made it through the first day of our meetings. As previously mentioned
Alan, Todd and Paul have been in town since Monday. Monday saw the three
gentlemen enjoying an ocular induced synapsis circus, which created some
issues trying to write to the cranial database.
Having not yet experienced Costa Rican Couture yet, Mark was still able to
make complex decisions without help. That's when he announced Atlanta's
Fish Market, in Buckhead.
This restaurant came highly recommended by Rachel. The Fish Market embodies
all things fishy, Starting with the huge fish outside. Neeraj had to stay
for another meeting, and would meet us at the restaurant. Therefore, Brian
Hemker received the keys.
Minor Performance Issue #1 - Insert key fob, not key to start the vehicle.
Minor performance issue #2 - Red means STOP
We made it to the hotel - fell out of the daddy van and checked in with
plans to regroup for dinner.
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Being a part of an employee owned company at times is like being a member
of an extended family. This was quite evident when the check came. Those
who didn't turn to look at Neeraj were looking at Alan, who gave in and
took the check. I'm not sure who's responsible but the silence of sticker
shock was broken when someone muttered, "Who's going to tell Dad? (Bart)"
This question turned the table into a Life Cereal commercial. "I'm not
going to tell him, let Brian tell him. I'm not going to tell him, Neeraj
has a call into him...."
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Thursday at Roundbox
Thursday we met with our Roundbox counterparts, this included their QA
lead, Amber. After some heavy questioning from Mark, he was able to coax
her into admitting that there really isn't a QA process. She suggested that
we may want to try to initiate some processes.
I figured it was time to lighten the mood, I asked Amber if she giggles in
the airport knowing that she's flying back home to an island paradise while
the vacationers are heading north.
As kindly as she could, she stated that Costa Rica isn't an island. Hoping
to save me from major humiliation she adds - but it has beautiful water on
each side. Have you ever seen a dog perk it's ears and cock it's head when
he doesn't understand? That must have been exactly what I looked like
because I was now surrounded by laptops with different maps of Central
America.
Then, in a slight of hand effort to gauge the intelligence of his test
team, Mark turns to me and asks, "Can you show me where the Panama Canal
is?" I am exceptionally proud to say, "I'm smarter than a fifth grader!"
Once it was determined that all information had been shared, the great game
of Where's Dinner had begun again. For three hours it was, "I don't care,
where do you want to go?" All of us that was except Alan. Alan was
furiously pacing the floor, "Fish Market, Fish Market, Al Al wants Fish
Market.
Neeraj gently took Alan aside and reminded him that one trip to the fish
market will be difficult to explain. Explaining it a second time will land
us in the principal's office without a doubt.
It was finally decided that Mexico was the country of choice. Maitre'd Mark
found Nuevo Laredo Cantina. A "Mexican cafe featuring home cooked Mexican
food." Thursday night the Daddy Van was piloted by Brian, "Lane Change"
Hemker. Shotgun was occupied by Al-Al.
Al-Al is QSI's answer to Tom-Tom. Although the system is in pre-production
testing, we made it to the Cantina with minimal set backs.
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If polled 95% of those asked would tell you that traffic in Atlanta is
pretty much grid locked at any given time. This situation never once made
Brian (I can move left through 5 lens of traffic within one mile - never
giving it a second thought) Hemker.
The grid lock dexterity has earned Brian the Title of Logistics Leprechaun.
To equate him with Lucky Charms may be a stretch - but if you need an on
time arrival, he's the one you can count on.
Back to Al-Al, who unlike Garmin, only has one voice...Rainman. We think
this became his programmed voice when he was suggesting the Fish Market for
dinner again. One defect in the pre-production model of Al-Al is it's fair
warning setting. Garmin has a fair warning setting of at least a mile, "In
.6 miles, turn left on Northside Blvd NW." Where Al-Al will say, "Turn
Left...you missed it, turn around."
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When in Mexico, one drinks like a tourist...Pitchers of Margaritas were plentiful (2).
We sat at our table and no sooner had the first butt hit it's chair than the chips and salsa arrived. We began reading the menu and were doing the thing all ordering groups do, "What are you getting?" This is basically a sniff test - is anyone going to get something better than what you're getting?
As it turned out, we each got something different. Again, we were able to eat minimal chips as our food arrived in what seemed like 10 minutes. My guess is that there are hidden microphones somewhere and when we think we're just polling the table, our food orders are being sent to the kitchen.
The food was incredible, so much so that Al-Al has changed his tune. Now Al-Al wants to meet the Chiquita Banana girl. Carmen Miranda look out!! This dinner cannot equal the adventure going home. First we pass Kroger. This is where we decided to stop for hair gel.
For awhile now, I thought about keeping a running blog highlighting random acts of kindness that I experience. Then I made a phone call yesterday and the ensuing exchange of email brought something total different to mind.
Please forgive me Jeff Foxworthy, but you know you won't become Mom Of the Year when...
As more of these gems come to mind, I will update the list.
One of the benefits of being a military kid is going to camp. Many kids get the opportunity to go to summer camp. Going to summer camp for a week isn't anything special either. Heck, camping on Kelly's Island in Lake Erie isn't special. But...
Getting to play hide and seek on the beach with Navy Seals is definitely something that isn't done every day. That's the back of Sean's head, talking to one of the Seals.
Here are all the Seals answering questions after their Hide and Seek drill with the kids.
Sean, can be seen next to the boy in the blue shirt.
The kids were also visited by the ONGB Adjunct General, who dropped from the sky in a Chinook.
First I want to thank my parents, I think they're the only ones who may read my blog, then again perhaps not. Anyway, to spread the love, I must direct you to a gem of an entry on Cake Wrecks.
The comments from the readers are just as priceless as the cake. I was going to end this entry with Cake Wrecks, then Columbus Foodie had a new entry, so for my Mother and Father who is learning to enjoy his new ball joint, I present the following blog: http://www.columbusfoodie.com/
Enjoy!!
Life, no matter how long you live, will always not be long enough for those who love you.
Make sure that every moment that is available you spend letting someone know how much they mean to you. Don't ever be the one who says, "But I didn't..."
Saturday I took Sean to the OSU football game. Our seats were in Section 14B. This will be very important prior to the start of the game. Sean and I were dropped off at Lane and High Street, just north of the heart of campus. We merged into the mass of scarlet hiking west on Lane toward the stadium.
We passed a myriad of tailgaters, their setups ran the gamete of sane and affordable to the shear insanity. Drop the tailgate and pull out the flat screen HD TV that is connected to the satellite dish. Tailgating is a professional sport for OSU Football fans!
This was my first football game in literally decades. More that one person told me to be very careful as to what gate I went in so as not to take an unwanted tour of the stadium. So I was very cognizant of the fact that I wanted to walk into the stadium somewhere near section 14. In we walked up the stairs - around and around the ramp, until we saw daylight. The usher asked if we needed help. Sean replied, "Nope, I've been here before." I should have known I was in for some excitement then.
We found our seats and settled in for pre-game. There were a couple of people behind us but we were rather comfortable still. I noted an old couple walking up the section stairs. They were sitting in the row behind us. They sat right next to the couple that was directly in back of us.
This started the conversation. The young couple thought that their friends were suppose to be sitting next to them, not old couple. The speculation mumbling finally sparked old lady to say that they have had these same seats for thirty years, young couple #2 were not going to be sitting there.
I was trying not to listen, but the banter was too good to ignore. Finally old couple convinced young couple that they were in the wrong section and needed to move. Young couple gets up and moves stating that they were in section 14 and it was the next section to the left. Section 14...that means Sean and I were in the wrong seat too. So we got up to move, Sean - the eight year old says, "We're in the right seats mom."
At that point old lady says, "Oops - this isn't section 16." So they got up and moved. Young couple comes back and are having a great giggle over the 30 years in the wrong section. Sean and I settle in when we hear the AC/DC gong. If you've never seen the players come onto the field for practice, you're missing a great show.
After the players warm up, the band comes out. I so wish the drivers in Ohio would watch the precision of the band. Especially when they have to cross paths. Every member of the band lets someone who needs to cross through, this keeps traffic moving and no one gets hit. Traffic though is another rant all together.
The band was spectacular, the team was great and Sean had a wonderful time, what more could I ask for ...short of the USC tickets next year?
When you go to work with Grandpa, things are a bit different, for everyone.
Thank you Steve, the Dino couldn't stand up without you!
