Suess's Pieces

On Our Way to Grandma and Grandpa's

So, some of you may have noticed that November is gone, and I never made it past Day 15 of the Creativity Challenge. I’d apologize, but somehow I don’t think you guys mind so much. And I had way more fun doing other things instead. Here’s what I’ve been up to the last couple of weeks:

Roadtripping

Dan and I did the Thanksgiving Triangle road trip where we went to see his folks and then my folks. The puppy (I still call him a puppy, but he will be 12 in January) came with us, and it was a blast. We did some Christmas shopping, but I am nowhere near finished buying for my peeps. Except Dan. This one online store had a fantastic deal on an HDTV Thanksgiving Day, so I ordered it that night while wearing my favorite Grinch pajamas. It came the day after we got home. I don’t think Dan has been in bed before 3 a.m. any night this week.

Working Hard

The great thing about the freelance copywriting gig this time of year is that everybody and her mother needs content. So I worked pretty hard on some Black Friday/Cyber Monday web copy for a couple of clients. FYI? If you’re willing to pay my rush fee, I am so willing to stay up until 11:00 p.m. every night finishing your last-minute projects. Padding my FreshBooks stats is always a worthy cause.

Changing My Blog

I disabled Disqus, my old commendting system, yesterday in favor of adding adding Comment Luv for you guys. If you’re not familiar with it, Comment Luv will add a link to one of your recent blog posts each time you leave a comment here. Comments now pull your profile pic from Gravatar (universal avatars associated with the email address you use for comments.) If you have trouble with the comment, please let me know. I’m trying it out to help my readers get some links and to increase engagement. However, if enough people don’t like it, I can always switch back.

That reminds me, I have a poll for you guys:

[stextbox id="grey"]Poll Closed[/stextbox]

Relaxing

I’m working on some handmade gifts for a few folks, watching Dan play Skyrim obsessively, and generally enjoying some time away from the computer. I realized that the Creativity Challenge wasn’t as fun as I’d hoped it be, and I really didn’t need another job for the month of November. I still think it’s a fantastic idea, but perhaps it’s an idea best left for May or June. This weekend we’ll be cooking the Bonus Turkey I got from my day job, watching football, and enjoying some Christmas tunage.

So that’s the last two weeks of my life in a nutshell. I will be blogging more consistently in the month of December, and I have some fantastic guest authors who will be popping in on Fridays for the next couple of months. Mahesh Raj Mohan was here yesterday, by the way. Did you catch his post about using The Force?

Tell me what you’ve been up to and test my new comment system at the same time. I’ll read every post you guys leave links to with Comment Luv!

Is that why it’s so bleeping cold at the office?

The last time I worked in a place that was reasonably warm was January 2004. I hadn’t yet resigned my job as an administrative assistant for the Parks, Recreation & Cemeteries Department for the City of Henderson, Kentucky. My office was in a house on the grounds of one of the municipal cemeteries. It had been converted to office space when the groundskeeper retired, and my two co-workers and I had complete control of the thermostat in that three bedroom ranch. It was heaven.

These days thermostats in the workplace are just for show. And when you complain to the maintenance crew about how bloody cold it is, you’re lucky if they even take the time to roll their eyes at you before blowing you off.

At other jobs I was known to wear two or three layers to work all year long and still freeze, my hands so cold it hurt to scroll with my mouse. I know I’m not crazy, because I can name five coworkers right off the top of my head who have used space heaters under their desks. Plus, my proofreading predecessor left a couple of those emergency hand warmers in my file cabinet. If that’s not a terrible omen, I don’t know what is.

Bless her dear heart for thinking she wouldn’t need them at her new job.

Anyway, one time back in the day, I recall being in the women’s restroom with two fellow coworkers. The first was taking a little longer than usual to rinse the soap from her hands at the sink. “I’m not crazy,” she told the second. “This water is warm.”

The other woman stuck her hands under the faucet and said, “This water is downright hot! I didn’t know we had water heaters!” When I tried it out for myself, I estimated the water temperature to be a perfect 125° F/52° C—virtually unheard of in public or workplace restrooms.

The first woman quickly begged of us, “Please don’t complain to maintenance. I’ve been coming in here on my breaks to thaw.”

Photo credit: Aine D

While I was writing a post for Writers’ Week last night, I got to thinking about the house my grandparents lived in when I was a child. I always loved that 1930s bungalow with the breakfast nook and the porch swing and the basement workshop full of my grandfather’s treasures. Nuts and bolts on tiny shelves in baby food jars. A vice clamped to the workbench. An old electric beer sign with the beer logo gone and a 2″x3″ picture of my grandmother from 1940-something tucked in the corner of the frame.

Grandpa never threw anything away.

The lawn there was well-kept, and grandpa put corn cobs on the huge tree in the front yard for the squirrels. In the backyard, fresh rhubarb grew every summer. Summer nights in Freeport, Illinois—unlike the summer nights in my hometown in Southern Indiana—were bearable, pleasant even. I remember swaying in the porch swing,  wearing my pink polka-dot nightgown, and not being eaten alive by mosquitoes. I remember Mom and Grandma talking. Me eating a Push-Pop.

That house has always been magical to me. When Grandpa passed away in 1987, Grandma stayed in the house for a few more years until eventually the house was too much work and the neighborhood had declined. My dad sold the house after that, and I was crushed. I saw the closing documents on his desk one day, and went to my room to mourn.

That house might as well have been a castle.

To this day, I repeatedly have dreams about buying my grandparents’ old house. I don’t know where I’ll work or what I’ll do in the dream, but I’m happy just to be in the house. I think I dream about it so much because that’s how my subconscious mind figures it will bring back my childhood. Bring back my grandparents.

Anyway, I had this brilliant idea last night that I would use the magic of the internet to revisit those fond childhood memories of the house at 30 W. Dexter. I pulled up Google Maps and went to street view. And then I promptly cried my eyes out. The tree is gone, the porch is smaller somehow, and my childhood and my memories of my grandparents slip further and further away.

I learned my lesson.