I'm still around.
The guy I fired the other day called my voice mail this morning and said he got his termination letter. He said he was going to mail in his I.D. badge and that he'd be expecting a check for the vacation he has coming. He sounded perfectly rational. Let's hope he stays that way!
In the meantime, I'm going to be disciplining three people tomorrow who thought it would be funny to pour rubbing alcohol on part of their workstation and light it on fire--twice.
I don't even know what to comment on that.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
One last message
It's come to this. Greg and I are in our bedroom, it's almost 10 p.m., and he's on our bedroom computer looking at the internet while I'm on another computer blogging. We're not talking, we're not even looking at each other or saying spousely things like, "honey, look at this wild website."
We're clicking and mousing and almost completely ignoring each other. Such progress these modern times have brought.
And whose fault is it, you may say? Yup. I know.
On another note, I decided I'd better blog tonight because I wrote a termination letter today to a guy who's kind of unstable. He's going to get it tomorrow and since he lives in town, he might just decide to come down to the plant and kill that not-so-nice human resources lady who fired him.
I knew that I should make an effort to blog one last time, so see! I'm ignoring my husband for a good reason.
In all seriousness, I'm a little concerned about what this guy might do tomorrow and in the future. I told him flat out in the letter that if he shows up on our premises, we're calling the police.
I'm sincerely hoping that won't be necessary. And if I die (dramatic pause, with hand held to forehead in oh-so-classic overacting style), it was nice knowing you all!
We're clicking and mousing and almost completely ignoring each other. Such progress these modern times have brought.
And whose fault is it, you may say? Yup. I know.
On another note, I decided I'd better blog tonight because I wrote a termination letter today to a guy who's kind of unstable. He's going to get it tomorrow and since he lives in town, he might just decide to come down to the plant and kill that not-so-nice human resources lady who fired him.
I knew that I should make an effort to blog one last time, so see! I'm ignoring my husband for a good reason.
In all seriousness, I'm a little concerned about what this guy might do tomorrow and in the future. I told him flat out in the letter that if he shows up on our premises, we're calling the police.
I'm sincerely hoping that won't be necessary. And if I die (dramatic pause, with hand held to forehead in oh-so-classic overacting style), it was nice knowing you all!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Still alive
Well, my mom didn't call today to check on us, but we're all still alive.
Greg is coming home shortly. He may have to travel again at the end of this month, though, and that would suck.
Allie's still breaking out in near tears every now and then. The two of us were talking about this weekend, however, when her aunties and grandparents are coming to visit and I didn't realize it, but Julia was listening and storing things away.
She's woken up the past two mornings and her first words, after, "Morning, Mommy," have been, "Is Gamma here?" I keep telling her, soon, honey, soon!
Greg is coming home shortly. He may have to travel again at the end of this month, though, and that would suck.
Allie's still breaking out in near tears every now and then. The two of us were talking about this weekend, however, when her aunties and grandparents are coming to visit and I didn't realize it, but Julia was listening and storing things away.
She's woken up the past two mornings and her first words, after, "Morning, Mommy," have been, "Is Gamma here?" I keep telling her, soon, honey, soon!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Gotta take my vitamins
Yes, we're all still alive. It doesn't escape my notice that my mom always calls at least once per day when I'm home alone with the girls and Greg's traveling. It's always nice to talk to her, but I don't worry (and neither should she) anymore about me keeling over from a stroke or something and Allie and Julia having to survive on ketchup and mustard for three or four days.
There was a blurb in the newspaper not that long ago about a three-year-old with that exact situation. Her mom died of some kind of chronic condition and they found the little girl sitting by her mom's body. She was covered with ketchup and mustard, which was all she'd found to eat. They also found a wet washcloth, so she'd tried to wash her mom's face to wake her up.
She was only a little dehydrated, so she must have been able to reach the sink pretty well. See, this is why we have stepstools at every sink in our house! Someday, we'll put them away, and I'll still lean in from far away like they're still there because they've been in place for so long.
Nonetheless, Allie is almost 6 1/2 now. She knows perfectly well how to unlock the door and head to the neighbors if something's wrong. However, I can pretty much guarantee she'd leave the door wide open and the cat would get out. I guess I'd better stay healthy.
There was a blurb in the newspaper not that long ago about a three-year-old with that exact situation. Her mom died of some kind of chronic condition and they found the little girl sitting by her mom's body. She was covered with ketchup and mustard, which was all she'd found to eat. They also found a wet washcloth, so she'd tried to wash her mom's face to wake her up.
She was only a little dehydrated, so she must have been able to reach the sink pretty well. See, this is why we have stepstools at every sink in our house! Someday, we'll put them away, and I'll still lean in from far away like they're still there because they've been in place for so long.
Nonetheless, Allie is almost 6 1/2 now. She knows perfectly well how to unlock the door and head to the neighbors if something's wrong. However, I can pretty much guarantee she'd leave the door wide open and the cat would get out. I guess I'd better stay healthy.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Random updates
Allie's last day of kindergarten is tomorrow. She hasn't cried yet at home, but I'm sure we're going to see tears tomorrow night. Fortunately, her kindergarten teacher lives less than a block from our daycare, where Allie will be spending the summer days, so she should see her at least occasionally.
I just re-read my post from last September 17, when she had just started school. If I knew how to add a link to it, I would.
Last year in August, I posted the story of Betsy and Chris, who lost their beautiful brick house in our local tornado. She didn't know it, but Betsy was about two weeks pregnant when the tornado came. To give the update on them, they had their third child and first boy on May 9, about two weeks after they moved into their rebuilt house.
I went for a short drive last night and passed by their house. They were outside, working on teaching Maddie, the oldest, how to ride her bike without training wheels. Betsy said they've gotten their pool filled and gotten the mechanicals to work, just in time for hot weather.
They're looking forward to doing something about landscaping soon, pretty much the last step in the rebuild, so they can be done with builder decisions and get back to the rest of their lives.
I understand it took very little time for them to move back in, since they only have new furniture and clothing. The ironic part is that ten minutes after I left them, the tornado sirens went off.
It was a tornado warning for a storm cell that was in the northern part of our county (we live in the far southeast corner of the county). A weak tornado touched down several times, tipped over some semis on the freeway, took a roof off one house, shredded some trees. There but for the grace of God . . .
The tornado last August went through one mile north of our house.
On another subject, I'm doing OK with my new job. I like what I do, but I'm still doing most of my old job because I haven't found the right person with the right mix of skills to take that stuff over. I'm not looking to directly replace myself, by the way. I want someone who's stronger in several areas than I was, but at this point, I'm going to settle for the kind-of-right person so I can get my life back.
We took our tan Mazda sedan in to a new mechanic yesterday--second time it's been in for an issue with engine hesitation that mechanics can't seem to find, let alone fix. Greg wants to get the car repaired so he can sell it and buy another one. He's not going to be able to sell it at this rate! Very frustrating.
I've written several times in the past about Julia's verbal skills. She's doing really well now. She named her first stuffed animal, her bear from Build-A-Bear Workshop, without calling it what it is (i.e. Dolly for a dolly, Kitty for a kitty). Julia's bear that Allie named Carol (that's a story in itself, ask my husband) is now named Jane.
Julia uses long phrases now and she's beginning to tell herself elaborate stories when she's bored, just like Allie has been doing for years. It can get a little loud in the car on long trips. Fortunately for my aching heart that isn't ready to have her be done being a little girl, she still says things like "no no" for window and "poo der" for computer.
Allie used to have a bunch of those, including "pas getti" for spaghetti. The only one I still hear her say regularly is "cah ler pitter" for caterpillar.
And now tomorrow she'll be done with kindergarten. I know that before long, she's going to be driving.
I just re-read my post from last September 17, when she had just started school. If I knew how to add a link to it, I would.
Last year in August, I posted the story of Betsy and Chris, who lost their beautiful brick house in our local tornado. She didn't know it, but Betsy was about two weeks pregnant when the tornado came. To give the update on them, they had their third child and first boy on May 9, about two weeks after they moved into their rebuilt house.
I went for a short drive last night and passed by their house. They were outside, working on teaching Maddie, the oldest, how to ride her bike without training wheels. Betsy said they've gotten their pool filled and gotten the mechanicals to work, just in time for hot weather.
They're looking forward to doing something about landscaping soon, pretty much the last step in the rebuild, so they can be done with builder decisions and get back to the rest of their lives.
I understand it took very little time for them to move back in, since they only have new furniture and clothing. The ironic part is that ten minutes after I left them, the tornado sirens went off.
It was a tornado warning for a storm cell that was in the northern part of our county (we live in the far southeast corner of the county). A weak tornado touched down several times, tipped over some semis on the freeway, took a roof off one house, shredded some trees. There but for the grace of God . . .
The tornado last August went through one mile north of our house.
On another subject, I'm doing OK with my new job. I like what I do, but I'm still doing most of my old job because I haven't found the right person with the right mix of skills to take that stuff over. I'm not looking to directly replace myself, by the way. I want someone who's stronger in several areas than I was, but at this point, I'm going to settle for the kind-of-right person so I can get my life back.
We took our tan Mazda sedan in to a new mechanic yesterday--second time it's been in for an issue with engine hesitation that mechanics can't seem to find, let alone fix. Greg wants to get the car repaired so he can sell it and buy another one. He's not going to be able to sell it at this rate! Very frustrating.
I've written several times in the past about Julia's verbal skills. She's doing really well now. She named her first stuffed animal, her bear from Build-A-Bear Workshop, without calling it what it is (i.e. Dolly for a dolly, Kitty for a kitty). Julia's bear that Allie named Carol (that's a story in itself, ask my husband) is now named Jane.
Julia uses long phrases now and she's beginning to tell herself elaborate stories when she's bored, just like Allie has been doing for years. It can get a little loud in the car on long trips. Fortunately for my aching heart that isn't ready to have her be done being a little girl, she still says things like "no no" for window and "poo der" for computer.
Allie used to have a bunch of those, including "pas getti" for spaghetti. The only one I still hear her say regularly is "cah ler pitter" for caterpillar.
And now tomorrow she'll be done with kindergarten. I know that before long, she's going to be driving.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
The horror, the horror!
Friday night, I was hungry for barbecue, so we headed out to the local franchise of Famous Dave's. We had a mixed results dinner, mixed because my food was really good and the girls were happy, but Greg had a sausage as part of his platter that was actually cold, not just not hot.
We never feel like just heading home to the suburbs after eating, so Greg suggested going to the Asian market down the street to pick up some more of a sauce that he likes. I thought it would be an interesting excursion--you always hear about the exotic (to American eyes) vegetables and fruits these markets carry, plus the interesting variety of canned goods, and I lead a very sheltered life, so I was happy to concur.
The market, which a sign said was affiliated with IGA, was bustling. We found a parking space and walked in. I have the normal expectations for a grocery store--clean, well-lighted, wide selection, good service, good prices. Well----
The store was well-lighted. It had a wide selection of interesting food items. There was good service (we initially had a problem finding the sauce Greg wanted and we were asked at least twice if we needed any help). The prices seemed in line.
It was not clean. Oh my god. Oh my god. The first thing we encountered was a god-awful smell of garbage from somewhere right by the entrance. Julia was walking and immediately said, "I smell something." Yup, we sure did.
Right inside the entrance were stacks and stacks of rice in 50 lb. bags, which Allie was curious about, since they don't have those at our local grocery. They appeared to be sitting right on the not-too-clean floor. Did I mention that there were bugs flying around us initially?
We proceeded to the sauce aisle. The whole store was very busy, so I picked up Julia to keep her out of people's way (and, I confess, so she wouldn't touch anything). Now I'm not one of those moms who carries sanitizing handi-wipes everywhere in case my kids get their hands dirty. After all, just three weeks ago, we spilled popcorn on the sidewalk and Julia got down there and ate some before we could stop her. But this was different.
Greg found his sauce and we explored a little bit. After all, as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ever coming back to the place. There were interesting fruits and vegetables, but then we hit the oh-my-god jackpot.
On the floor next to the fish counter (which had prominent but stained and tattered signs saying that only store personnel were allowed to put their hands into the seriously-needing-a-cleaning-or-maybe-they-should-just-throw-them-out-and-start-over fish case), was a cardboard box.
The box contained blue crab. Greg says they were alive, I don't know because I didn't want to look that closely I was busy holding my nose (not literally, but not because I didn't want to). Two people were using a pair of tongs to sort through them, and the smell was enormous.
I did notice that the box said it was leakproof, but someone's going to need to speak to the manufacturers about a warranty issue, because a stream of green god-knows-what liquid streamed across the aisle from the bottom of the box.
It smelled so bad. Greg (and unfortunately Allie) have very well developed senses of smell. I think Allie was literally holding her nose and Greg was retching in the frozen food aisle.
We quickly exited the premises with Greg's sauce and some glass noodles. Greg is going to have to find a new supplier for his sauce. This place needs to be burned down. You know, purifying flame?
I'll be at home 20 miles or so away, holding my nose.
We never feel like just heading home to the suburbs after eating, so Greg suggested going to the Asian market down the street to pick up some more of a sauce that he likes. I thought it would be an interesting excursion--you always hear about the exotic (to American eyes) vegetables and fruits these markets carry, plus the interesting variety of canned goods, and I lead a very sheltered life, so I was happy to concur.
The market, which a sign said was affiliated with IGA, was bustling. We found a parking space and walked in. I have the normal expectations for a grocery store--clean, well-lighted, wide selection, good service, good prices. Well----
The store was well-lighted. It had a wide selection of interesting food items. There was good service (we initially had a problem finding the sauce Greg wanted and we were asked at least twice if we needed any help). The prices seemed in line.
It was not clean. Oh my god. Oh my god. The first thing we encountered was a god-awful smell of garbage from somewhere right by the entrance. Julia was walking and immediately said, "I smell something." Yup, we sure did.
Right inside the entrance were stacks and stacks of rice in 50 lb. bags, which Allie was curious about, since they don't have those at our local grocery. They appeared to be sitting right on the not-too-clean floor. Did I mention that there were bugs flying around us initially?
We proceeded to the sauce aisle. The whole store was very busy, so I picked up Julia to keep her out of people's way (and, I confess, so she wouldn't touch anything). Now I'm not one of those moms who carries sanitizing handi-wipes everywhere in case my kids get their hands dirty. After all, just three weeks ago, we spilled popcorn on the sidewalk and Julia got down there and ate some before we could stop her. But this was different.
Greg found his sauce and we explored a little bit. After all, as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ever coming back to the place. There were interesting fruits and vegetables, but then we hit the oh-my-god jackpot.
On the floor next to the fish counter (which had prominent but stained and tattered signs saying that only store personnel were allowed to put their hands into the seriously-needing-a-cleaning-or-maybe-they-should-just-throw-them-out-and-start-over fish case), was a cardboard box.
The box contained blue crab. Greg says they were alive, I don't know because I didn't want to look that closely I was busy holding my nose (not literally, but not because I didn't want to). Two people were using a pair of tongs to sort through them, and the smell was enormous.
I did notice that the box said it was leakproof, but someone's going to need to speak to the manufacturers about a warranty issue, because a stream of green god-knows-what liquid streamed across the aisle from the bottom of the box.
It smelled so bad. Greg (and unfortunately Allie) have very well developed senses of smell. I think Allie was literally holding her nose and Greg was retching in the frozen food aisle.
We quickly exited the premises with Greg's sauce and some glass noodles. Greg is going to have to find a new supplier for his sauce. This place needs to be burned down. You know, purifying flame?
I'll be at home 20 miles or so away, holding my nose.
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