Thursday, April 28, 2011

Not because of the talking

So, our province (along with many others) has had a no cell phone when you're driving by-law for a while. Which is fine. It was terrible at first, because you'd be driving along behind someone who would suddenly - no signal or anything - pull over to answer the phone. Or, as happened TWICE to me, you'd be behind someone who just...stops. Right in the middle of the road. Because their cell phone rang, and on the one hand you can't talk and drive and on the other hand apparently it's more than your life - and car - is worth to just let it go without answering. IDIOTS.

Things settled down after a while. There are still people - LOTS of people - who don't care, and they use their cell phones regardless of the law. Me, I don't have spare cash for a ticket, so I don't use it. If I'm worried that some child has to find me, I pull over. I signal, and very carefully pull over. And then I check to see who called. I'm never in such a panic to answer that I pull over in time to answer the thing.

All of this is to say that I've always assumed that it was the talking that was a danger. You know, lack of focus means you could be so intent on your call that you don't see granny crossing the street. Call is answered, granny gets squished.

Turns out there are far more serious dangers with in-car cell phone use. I was driving up the main drag yesterday, and came upon a car that was swerving from one lane to the other. Thought the driver was drunk. Thought about the RID thing, "Report Impaired Driving". But then I'd have to find a place to safely pull over. That's when I saw what was really going on:

The driver was holding a cell phone out the window with his left hand. Driving - sort of - with his right. He was also using his right hand to fight off the passenger, who clearly wanted the phone back. Yup, you've got that right: fighting over a phone in a moving car. Whilst driving to drive said moving car. On a busy downtown street. And to quote my high school driver's ed class, "This is not a car. It is a 2000 pound killing machine". I took my turn (he was temporarily in the turning lane, but that was just part of the bad fight-driving), he/they kept going. I hope he tossed the phone out the window. And if they hit something...may it have been something non-living.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

One plus One Equals Nine

I’m working – again – on creating a consistently fantastic rye bread. Don’t get me wrong, I can make rye bread. I make a marbled rye that is yummy (consistently so), and a light rye that is quite nice and a pumpernickel that is very…pumpernickel-y. There is a sour rye that I make that is quite good, but occasionally it turns out not quite as I want it to be. Very frustrating as consistency is necessary when you’re selling bread.

So, after a break of many moons I am starting again. I’m going to make a New York deli rye and a 100% sour dough rye. I decided - after I’d gone to bed last night – to start on the deli rye right away. I knew it would have a starter, so I got out of bed to get that going in the hopes of having bread by Thursday. It seemed like a reasonable hope, as the “time needed” note in the recipe said two days; starter day one, bread day two. However…

The ingredient list for the starter included a cup and a half of a different type of starter, with instructions on making it on a previous page in the book. So I went to that recipe. Turns out that starter takes three days to make. You’d think that this would mean bread in five days, yes? 2+3=5. However…

That starter had a seed culture. This, yes, is like a starter as well. If you want the actual terms the starter for the bread needs a cup and a half of Barm. To make the Barm you need a cup of seed culture. There, all clear? Trust me; it’s easier just to think of all of them as a type of starter. The recipe for the seed culture was also included in the book. (Well duh – what a terrible book it would be if it didn’t). It takes four days to make the seed culture.

So, Tuesday to Friday I add things to the seed culture. On Saturday it is ready for use. This means I can start on the three day Barm. Day one Saturday, day two Sunday, final bit ‘o magic on Monday. At that point I’ll be well into next week, but by Tuesday I’ll be making the starter for the bread, which ripens for 24 hours. What this means is that a week from today, the process that got started last night will be done. And if I’ve done well (I’ll be making a change or two of my own), I’ll have some tasty New York deli rye. In Saskatchewan! I do have some expert N.Y.D.R. guinea pigs available (hello Judy!) for feedback. I’ll get back to you in a week to let you know how it went. Unless, I suppose, in a fit of pique I give up on the whole thing. The things I do for love of bread!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Dangers of Poetry

The work I am doing right now - and yesterday and most of last week - is all firmly mired in the 1940's. All military stuff. I feel very out-of-time when it's time for lunch. Nothing seems quite right, the way one feels when you've been deep into a good book and come up for a breath of air. I should go and visit my dad; having coffee with him and his coffee buddies may be the only place I'd feel comfortable right now.

None of which is what I intended to blog about. I can't, of course, give details of the actual records but it's ok when there is no way for you to trace who I'm talking about. The wording is actually more along the lines of not giving so many details that a "reasonable"* person would know who I was talking about. I used the quotes there because I'm still not entirely sure that the word reasonable should be used in legislation. Very vague, to my mind.

So, back to the story. All this long introduction just to tell you about one man and his quest to be re-enlisted. They decided to take him, despite a serious concern they all had. That concern? I'm going to quote it here, exactly as written. Because if I don't you'll think I'm making it up, and I'm not, this is exactly what the form says
"...will be of use and value despite a strong tendency to break into effusions of poetry".

Yes, I can see the concern there. Curse poetry for being so dangerous!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The longest fall

I've been having a lot of really awful dreams lately. Either really frightening (I woke up sitting upright and shouting from a dream where I thought the sound that woke me was The Boy screaming in agony as he died a fiery death in a hideous car accident. He didn't, by the way) or just bad (doing or saying something that I would never ever actually do or say). Given that after family and the usual stuff I live for dreaming, this has not been a happy state of affairs.

There are some silver linings, though. For instance, I had a dream last night about dying with a friend. Not quite dying, though. Why would this be a silver lining? Because a) we didn't actually die and b) we had the weirdest conversation during the longest plunge to death ever. And yet, somehow, I can see us having such a discussion, should there ever be a record breaking fall to death going on.

So, the basic set up: we were going somewhere by car, with Mayb driving her new car. This made sense, as she just got a car and I had just read her post about it. She pulled over so we could figure out where we were. It didn't seem odd to either of us that we were in Greece, but somehow driving home. The Boy is working in a Greek restaurant, maybe that's where Greece entered the picture.

At any rate...we pulled over, on this road right next to the Mediterranean, and we were too far over. So the car went over the edge, plunging us both to what seemed like certain death. And yet, dream-like, we had time to have the following conversation:

B: Didn't mean to do that. Sorry.
Me: S'okay. We're going to hit the water, though. We should be able to do something about that.
B: Anything we should do on the way down?
Me: Well, we'll want to get out, so open the windows. Myth Busters did a thing on that. We want to get out as soon as possible.
B: I don't want to get out at all. Unless I can do it mid-air and grab a branch or something on the way.
Me: Don't think we have time. Can you swim?
B:Don't you read my blog anymore?
Me: Oh yeah, you hate the water. Well, open your window and take off your seat belt. You should be able to kick yourself to the surface. I'll take you the rest of the way. (Yeah, like it hasn't been 30 years since I did any lifeguarding).
B: I won't float, I have this thing where I sink like a stone.
Me: I think all people float. I mean, dead people do, right?
B: But if I'm dead why bother coming to get me?
Me: I'm just saying I think you could float.
B: I think the car might float. What if we climb out now and get on top? Then we don't have to swim at all.
Me: Well...I guess all I care about is seat belt off and window open so yeah, if you want to, go ahead and climb onto the roof.
B: If we die in the new car, Wade is going to be mad as well as sad.
Me: I don't think the kids are going to be too happy either. Wonder if we can haunt them all or something, and say we're sorry.

Dream ends. And still the car hadn't hit the water. Truly, we must have fallen from space, not from the road!

Take some time before you call

I was listening to a call-in show yesterday morning (because it was relevant to my job) and I was amazed at the number of people who called in with...no actual question.

Oh, they had a question all right, that wasn't this issue. The issue was their inability (and I'm talking here about every single caller but one) to formulate an actual question. I felt so bad for the special guest and the host.

There would be a rambling thirty second...um...discussion...and at the end they would have to find a polite way to ask the caller what the question was. And they had to do that SIX times.

I used to work with someone who wrote things out before she made a phone call. At the time I thought she was being overly fussy but I'm finding myself thinking she could teach a class in marshaling your thoughts before you speak. Or perhaps all we need is a class in high school entitled "how to ask a question".

The Girl takes a class called "Life Transitions". It's an excellent idea, actually; a class about things like basic banking, renting an apartment or buying a house. Paying bills and finding a doctor, or a lawyer or planning a foreign holiday. The skills you need when you go from living at home to living on your own. Surely knowing how to frame a question is a needful skill? And from what I've heard lately it's quickly becoming a lost skill.