Babysitting

I had a flashback to when I was about fifteen this past Sunday - because you know what I was doing? Babysitting.

A good friend of mine in grad school has a wife and a baby. I can't believe their daughter is a year old now - I remember like it was yesterday making a meal to take them as new parents.

I was talking to the husband over coffee one day, and he was explaining how he and his wife coordinate their schedules so that someone is always home taking care of the baby (his wife works part time), and how it's expensive to use daycare when they have to both be away. So it occurred to me that they probably never have any time to themselves, and after mulling it over a couple days I offered to babysit for them if they ever needed a night out just the two of them.

You have never seen such a look of relief as what came over this guy's face - I didn't realize how hard it must have been on them in the past year. I have a lot of respect for those who can manage a family while in grad school, just like I have a lot of respect for those who work while they are in school. In both cases, I can't even imagine how they handle it all - I have my hands full having done undergrad and grad school WITHOUT having to work or raise kids!

I offered to babysit on a Wednesday, I think, and the very next Sunday I found myself knocking on the door to their apartment. Offer eagerly accepted, I'd say!

It was so darn cute to see the wife dressed up in a cute outfit and heels, and the husband similarly in a smart button down and slacks - clearly they were excited about date night!

The little girl was an absolute dream to babysit. No fussing at all. She and I played catch with a little ball for a straight 45 minutes... she was all into that! I have to admit my diaper-changing skills were a little rusty. When I was changing her, she kind of looked at me slant-wise, as if to say, "You really aren't very good at this, are you?" Well, gees, I'm working on it kid... :)

And I have forgotten how soothing it is to sit and read a book to a small body curled up in your lap, sucking on a sippy cup of milk. And how it pulls your heart strings when they start to get sleepy, rubbing their eyes and nuzzling a stuffed animal as you put them down to bed.

I have no plans to have a family any time in the near future, but the whole thing reminded me how strong the motherly instinct is, and how precious children are.

And, at least for now, how nice it is to give back the kid at the end of the day when the parents get home! :)

A Tense Night

Last night I washed my face and got ready for bed, and as I walked across the hall to my room, I saw a big dark blob skittering along the floor. In my bare feet, and without contacts in, I groped around for a shoe or something to squash it with. When I turned back around - with heavy book in hand - I was just in time to see the thing dart into my bedroom and go behind the door.

When I followed in hot pursuit, behind the door was empty.

I had lost a big dark crawly hoppy thing in my bedroom.

Try as I might, I could not find it, even after I retrieved my wits and my glasses.

It was a long night trying to get to sleep. I still can't decide whether it was a mouse or a cockroach.

Pick Up Line

I squish my toes through the sand, enjoying the walk in the sun.

I nudge my boyfriend, "Can we go get chocolate at the candy store?"

"Of course!" he replies. "I was figuring you might want to do that."

He knows me well.

I'm on vacation, I have nothing in particular to worry about, so my mind wanders and I watch the highschool-age beachgoers flirting, trying as teenagers do to impress each other.

"You know what I don't understand?" I postulate to the world in general, "I don't know why guys always try these cheesy pick up lines. If you just say 'Hi, how are you, my name is Joe. You look lovely this evening.' it really does just fine."

My boyfriend glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, I don't know about that. Most girls need more than just 'hello' to get them to pay attention to you."

I ponder this. I'm still pretty sure that all the girls I know don't really go for "Hey angel, did you fall from the sky?" or whatever nonsense guys think is going to work.

I look at my boyfriend again - and oh, he's grinning. I missed that mischievous twinkle in his eye the first time...

"That's why we pilots wear the flight suit!"

Top Gun. A must-see for anybody dating a pilot.

Okay. Well. Point conceded.

Paella

Following a recipe is not too hard, but I think that the real art of cooking lies in figuring out how to combine what's in your fridge into a meal. (See, Bridget thinks so too!) I peered in my fridge last week and saw shrimp and chicken that needed to be eaten, lots of homemade stock, and I knew I had saffron  I just bought for the first time - ah, paella! I was so proud of myself for coming up with that one.

Simmering...

I have tried risotto several times, and I have to admit that I'm just too impatient - I end up boiling over, or burning it, or something else because I can't maintain the slow-and-steady stirring and adding routine that gives you that luscious final dish.

Simmering...

But paella, man, now there's a dish I can get behind. Once you add the rice and liquid, you NEVER STIR IT. It just boils merrily away, with the rice getting plumper and plumper, until you take the lid off and boom! Dinner is served.

Done!

This was my first ever attempt at paella, and I can assure you it won't be my last. SO tasty!

What's the Spanish version of bon appetit?

After making this, I learned that this dish is also a favorite of my boyfriend's. Now I also happen to know my boyfriend makes fantastic risotto, so I'd say surely we can work out a fair trade system - my paella for his risotto, what do you say? :)

A Special Call

"So how goes the project?" I asked my intern as I poked my head in to check on his progress.

"Well, I'm actually kind of mad," he said, "because I accidentally fried the heater controller."

My eyebrows went up, but I asked carefully, "Are you sure it's unusable?"

"It went 'POOF' and I took it apart and there are burn marks, and it rattles when you shake it."

Yep - to quote McCoy, he's dead Jim.

And how did this happen, you might ask?

"Uh... I hooked up the AC power to the wrong terminal."

Yep again - that'll do it. 120V A/C into a 5V DC signal terminal.

Sigh. Mistakes happen, goodness knows I've done stupider things. I told him it was okay, and that I would order another one. Bless his heart, he really was apologetic, and he hung his head but then eagerly pushed his college-ruled notebook toward me.

"But see, I called the company, and got us a special deal. They will give us 20% off the replacement. Here, I talked to John, and here's the case file I opened and the phone number to call."

Slightly impressed by this, I told him to send the information to me in an email, and I'd get it taken care of.

Yesterday I tackled this item on the To-Do list, and I started by looking up the original part number on the manufacturer's website, so I'd know what to order. I looked at the company's phone number at the top of the website - and noted that oddly, it did not match the number the intern sent me. Not even close, like it might be if he had simply mis-transcribed a number.

I brushed it off, and used the number he gave me, thinking perhaps he had a direct line to the John fellow he had talked to. 1-800- yadda yadda.

Recorded phone message: "To talk live, please visit talklive.com to register."

Huh. Sounds odd, but maybe directing me to get in touch with customer service via the website? I consulted the website again, and noticed that the main number was 1-888 instead of 1-800, so I thought I would try 1-888 plus the number the intern provided, which I figured would go to the direct line of the service guy.

"Hey sexy, how you doin' tonight?"

Say WHA? Flustered, I snapped the phone shut. HELLO.

About thirty minutes later, I get a text to my cell, something along the lines of:

Barely legal party girls waiting to hang out with you! Call now, or RPLY to unsubscribe.

By now I had put two and two together and figured out I called some chat line, and some dubious organization now had ahold of my cell #. I texted back to unsubscribe myself, thinking that would end it.

Thirty minutes later, I got a second nasty text, worse than the first.

And three minutes after THAT, I was on the line with Verizon setting up a block on anything incoming from that source.

So now my question is - what in the world was that number that my intern gave me? I can't fathom how it got on his notes to me. My best guess, and I hate to say this - but I bet that he looked in his cell phone through "recent calls" to write down the number he called to customer service, and he picked out the WRONG RECENT CALL.

Any better guesses?

All I'm saying is, if that was really the number he called, he may have sweet talked his way to a deal and gotten 20% off something, but it sure wasn't a heater controller and a Type K thermocouple...

Beach Day

This weekend I went to the beach - at the generous invitation of a friend with a house right off the beach, membership in a yacht club with private beach, and a boat. Those are the type of friends you like to keep around. :)

This was my first time in the water this summer, and I had to scrounge around to find a bathing suit in one of my packed boxes. Fortunately I managed to find my red and white striped one, so with blue shorts I even managed to be seasonably patriotic. Sometimes these things work out!

When we got tired of lazing around on the beach (as if), we took a boat ride around the area. Lovely! The fifteen year old son was the skipper, and man he was proud as a peacock to be ferrying around five young ladies.

The husband was also an excellent tour guide, giving us the history of the area and some background on the mansions and who owned them. The area we puttered around - from Beverly (across from Salem and Marblehead) up to Manchester (you could see Gloucester in the distance) - is very wealthy, very old, and very storied. Lots of marine history here - Salem and Beverly disagree on which one was the base for the very first U.S. Navy, shortly after 1776, but whatever the case, this area was smack in the middle of sailing and naval activities. And also shipping and commerce - in one stretch of rocky coast, there is a stairway cut into the stone tucked into a crevice. It led up to a government official's house, where he would have alcohol smuggled in by boat during the Prohibition.

And now, it is prime territory for the rich and famous to have a seaside summer house. Or you know, summer mansion. The lighthouse here is one of the best postings for a Coast Guard lighthouse keeper to aspire to. This area is not far from Singing Beach, which is one of the more well-known beaches in the area. And it's one of the few coastlines that alternates between stretches of rocky cliffs, and sandy white beaches. You can get the best of both worlds - whatever tickles your fancy!

I had a lovely time relaxing - and since I slathered on sun screen, managed not to get sunburnt which is quite the accomplishment for me. Ended the evening with a lobster dinner (good thing I learned how to eat a whole lobster just a few weeks ago!), and went home full and happy.

Falcon

Good morning. 

Where I live there is a falcon that hangs around. I kid you not. A falcon.

Sometimes he has surprised me by staking out a spot on the rooftop garden, and I'll see him perched on a planter at the other end of the row I'm weeding. I usually then go weed somewhere else.

Not a picture of my particular falcon, but the scene with the city in the background is about right.

But this morning, he chose to land and camp out on my window A/C. You know, the typical window-mount A/C unit with the back half sticking out the window.

This one is also perched on a window, but he's a cute baby. I had his mama looking through my window.

So when my eyes fly open this morning, I'm staring at a black beady eye about two feet away from my pillow. Because the back half of the A/C may be outside, but the FRONT half is right by my bed, and in my fuzzy mind I actually forgot about the window and thought he was coming right at me.

Okay so he didn't look as threatening as this, but CLOSE.

And then it shrieks at me. That is a terrifying sound first thing in the morning when you have forgotten there is a window, folks.

You know how in old westerns, you'll hear the hawk cry across the abandoned frontier town, and it symbolizes the raw, lonely, power of the desert?

When you hear that shriek next to your ear, it symbolizes more the raw power of making you pee your pants.

Suffice to say, I am up and at 'em today at work, and I didn't even need coffee to do it!

Credits for images:
http://www.photo-dictionary.com/photofiles/list/5088/12911saker_falcon.jpg
http://www.thedailygreen.com/cm/thedailygreen/images/NZ/nyc-hawk-032609-lg.jpg
http://i.ytimg.com/vi/94MTPPwCgJk/0.jpg
http://www.dispatch.com/content/stories/local/2010/07/08/witness-worker-struck-falcon.html