Doubters? Doubters?

It has recently come to my attention that some of you out there -- and you know who you are -- doubted that we've been getting "real" snow here in lovely Avery, Calif.

Hrrrumph.

Lest anyone doubt again, last night we got 10 inches. I got home around 7 p.m. in Diane's Hyundai. Measured the snow on its roof this morning, so it wasn't accumulation. Here's a picture of accumulation -- since last Thursday.

Here's some other pictures, just for the hell of it.

And even a few arty ones.

Snow Day

I had a dentist appointment Friday but a took a snow day instead. Here's what it looked like around here when we woke up Friday morning.

Since I own cross coutry skis, I thought I'd use them on our morning walk. The snow was too deep and powdery, though, so it was just like having very long and skinny snow shoes.

As you know, Spanky likes the snow. I'll spare you any more pictures of Spanky eating snow (although if I could have recorded sound last night I'd put up an audio file of him crunching icey snow.) We got home around midnight and just took a quick walk to the corner and he'd run 5 feet ahead, tail wagging madly, then crunch crunch crunch hardened snow off the side of the road. We'd catch up and he'd sprint forward then stop and crucnh crunch crunch again. The. Whole. Way. To. The. Corner. And. Back. Silly dog!

Idgie is more regal in the snow. She likes it, but when Spanky plows through the deep drifts, she's more likely to pick a path of less resistance.

In Praise of Z-Chains and All-Wheel Drive

When I bought my two-wheel-drive truck, we didn't live in Avery, at 3,400 feet, where snow is a certainty every winter. I didn't sweat it, though. I figured there'd be 10 days a year or so I regretted the decision, and 355 I appreciated the better gas milage.

I did buy good chains, though. Z-chains, which turn out to be the cat's frickin' PJ's when it comes to snow chains.

It had just started snowing as I drove to school today. It was a production day, so skipping wasn't really an option. Got it about half done, and there's a late story coming in, so that was about as far as I could get, so I came home around 3 p.m. And the snow starts in Murphys.

I went about two miles above Murphys and it was building up on the roads enough to make me pull over. I got out my Z-chains, read the instructions, then put the first one on. These chains are great -- you don't have to lay them out and drive over them. They just sweep around the tire from behind, latch here, here and here, and snap on a rubber tensioner. I put the first one on, and honestly wondered what I had done wrong. "Is it that easy?" I asked myself. Second went on in less than a minute. Truck trucked right on home and into our drive. If you need chains, Z-CHAINS ROCK!

But tonight we had to go down to Angels Camp for play rehearsal (I still don't know how I got dragged into the Calaveras Follies...) and we went in Diane's Hyundai Santa Fe. All-wheel drive with traction control. Started raining in Angels Camp while we're running the numbers. Then started snowing in Angels Camp (ele. 1,400 feet). So when Diane's number was done (she's the star, by the way) we started up the hill. An inch-plus in Angels. Snowing steady. We have chains in that car as well, but I decided that I'd see how well we did without them.

So we motored. And motored. And motored past a spin-out. And a second. Going uphill I could feel an occassional stutter as the wheels tried to spin and the traction control told them not to. But other than that, it just pulled steady. Turned off 4 onto Avery Sheep Ranch, and that had been plowed, but a while ago. Two to four inches of snow. No problem. Turned onto Roan -- six inches of snow. No problem. Turned into our driveway -- a berm and 12 inches of snow. Got there, then started spinning the wheels. In the driveway. Home.

Snow Jackalopes

Only Diane qualifies as a snow bunny, but she had Frankie and I with her today. Here's proof:

So I haven't skied since high school, and then I only did it once. And I never got past the T-bar and onto a chair lift. Today we went to Bear Valley, where both Diane and Frankie have considerable experience. Peak rates because of the holiday weekend, but Frankie was home because of the holiday weekend. And Bear's only about 40 minutes away, so what the hell. We got up early and headed up.

On the plus side, I never fell. Not once. Two times down the bunny hill for some instruction, two times down Cub, three times down Super Cub (both sides) and I didn't face-plant once. Turned, stayed balanced, zipped around pretty well for the first time. (There was one near-fall and a couple of "turn...turn...TURN...TURN!!! moments, but no falls.)

My big question was when did I turn into a complete and total wussy when it comes to heights? (Or was I always?) Chair lifts are way up in the air, and sometimes they rock back and forth. This is NOT GOOD. I did it, and the last two runs down Super Cub I really enjoyed, but I never got comfortable on the lifts. Maybe in time, I guess. Maybe in time.

Further Updates

We have more Spanky news, and it isn't what we hoped.

The pathologists are pretty sure what they're seeing in Spanky's biopsies is cancer, so we do have an answer. Because of where it is as much as what it is, treatment isn't much of an option. The doc is looking into one drug that might shrink the swelling, but beyond that, there isn't much to do. We have drops that seem to prevent the bleeding pretty well.

So that's the news. Spanky's home and happy. He led us on our 2.5-mile run yesterday and a 3-mile walk today. He eats and sleeps and likes his biscuits, and as long as he's happy and comfortable, we're happy. We'll value the time we have, and say goodbye when we have to. Thank you for all your good thoughts and wishes. Spanky wagged his tail for all of them.

Spanky's Home

Spanky came home today and slept.

And slept.

And slept.

We had visited him Sunday and he looked great -- happy and frisky and excited to see us. He was excited to see us this morning, too, but it had a "I want to go home now!" edge to it. But he got to, and we have drops and no results. Probably start to get those tomorrow, although the fungus test takes weeks, apparently.

Anyway, we're happy and poorer, but Spanky's home. Yea!

A Spanky Update

Spanky had biopsies done today and came through the surgery fine. We were gonna go see him around 4, but the doc thought it was best not to excite him.

Yesterday was a bad day that included serious thoughts that it might be time to put Spanks to sleep. His nose is worse; bleeding off and on. The problem was that when we had him in last week they didn't actually do anything to figure out what was going on with his nose. Our vet did non-invasive tests, basically looking for signs of cancer that has spread. He saw signs that something was up, and expected the test results to confirm the worst, so he didn't do the nose biopsy. The tests later came back negative.

But yesterday Spanky's worse and I don't want him to suffer and Diane and I are talking (and crying -- lots of crying) and wondering what to do. And I'm damn upset because we don't know what to do. We don't have an answer about what exactly is causing the problem, and because of that can't know for sure it's not treatable. So we're wondering whether to put Spanky down, knowing there's at least some chance he could be cured. It was not a good day.
I called our vet and vented, told him I was upset -- upset at him, upset at the situation. He explained his approach and basically offered to do the nose tests today instead of next Tuesday. (His partner, who is the specialist, even came in today to help him do it.) They're charging us for the tests and surgery but not for the hospitalization. Diane and I even had to work through that -- are we putting our boy through surgery just to make us feel better and not him -- but decided the potential good outweighed the bad.

So we don't have answers today, but hopefully we will soon. And maybe they'll good ones, because Spanky's a good boy! (banga-banga-banga...)

The World's Best Dog

This is the world's best dog.

If you get a chance, think a good thought for him.

Studio M and Style & Co. and Inc. - Oh My!

I amuse sales associates in Macy's.

Diane and I went shopping yesterday because she needed some clothes for her new job. One of the great things about working mostly from home is that it doesn't require a wide wardrobe, and the same pieces work over and over when meeting different clients.

Doesn't work as well at Davis, however, and Diane realized this week that in the six days she's been there, she wore the same cool Benneton jacket four times. So yesterday she had a haircut appointment in Modesto and I went with and we went shopping.

This is where the amusment part comes in. First, it appears not many husbands accompany their wives. Second, the ones that do seem to stand around in impatient huffs or resigned indifference. The ones who go through the rack and bring in different pieces and evaluate the clothes as they're tried on are in very short supply. And the fact that I have good taste -- as least as far as being able to tell what looks good on Annoymous Diane -- doesn't hurt.

So anyway, with two separate rounds of trying on stuff at Macys (interrupted by a trip to Gottchalks, where Realtors shop, apparently) we emerged victorious with several nice business basics, including shoes, that have AD set for a while. They include a Studio M skirt that has black and white stripes going several different directions. It was in the morning hold pile that I thought might not make the cut in the afternoon simply because of price. Then she tried it on again and left me no choice.

To avoid any Ryan Seacrest Awards, I also bought a 1" dial indicator and inside bore gauges because I'm working on my motorcycle again. Not sure it offsets...

Bigger, Better Benefits

OK, they're not bigger. But, despite what I wrote in a previous post about Diane's benefits not starting for six months, I was wrong. They start(ed) Jan. 10, her hire date. As soon as we sign up (like tomorrow!) we're covered, and it's retroactive to the start date.

So I have $1,400 in medical insurance premium bills on my desk THAT I NO LONGER HAVE TO PAY!

I have to go do my happy dance now...

Redneck Ice Sculpture

This is a redneck ice sculpture.

Any ideas what it is?

The negative space in the center... oh, wait, this is a redneck ice sculpture.

The hole in the middle was actually it's own piece of ice, but unfortunately I tossed it against a rock to watch it shatter before I thought of taking pictures. This picture is more interesting anyway.

What the photo doesn't give you is any sense of scale. Is that an inch across, or a foot?

Here's some other objects that will help clarify.

I had the oil pan stashed under Gina's car, but she came home and took her car, so the oil pan filled up with rain. The funnel was upside down inside the pan. (And apparently centered quite nicely.)

When it froze, ice poked up out of the top of the funnel, and all the pieces separated like they'd been greased, which seems entirely reasonable.

Yeah, I know. There's damn lots of fun up in the hills. Diane's column this week is about a bunch of Troglodyte high school coaches who want the school board to update the 1970 policy on the appropriate length of hair for high school athletes. Keep it, but update it to allow hair to reach the bottom of a standard shirt collar instead of the top.

Wow.

The Benefits of Benefits

Don't think we've told anybody yet, but Diane got the writing job at U.C. Davis and started on Wednesday. She has an office and everything. She's the part-time writer for the Plant Sciences Department, and will be on campus one to two days a week and working from home as much as possible.

Best of all, she's bringing home full University of California benefits for both of us -- health, dental, vision, disability, retirement, the works. They start in six months. By my conservative estimate, it should save us about $20,000 a year. And she gets paid, too.

Woo-frickin-hoo!

Black Dog, White World

Spanky likes the snow.

Do dogs get brain freezes?

The Beauty and the Basement

Van Gogh had Starry Starry Night.

Michelangelo had the Sistine Chapel.

Anonymous Diane has the basement Storage Area.

As I mentioned, when we brought up Christmas boxes, I discovered the bottoms of some of them were rotting. I don't want to encourage rot and decay in the foundation area of our home, so I decided the basement needed to be a cardboard-free zone. At least no wood or cardboard in contact with the dirt. A few days after Christmas we bought 14 storage containers, 18-gallons each, and on Jan. 1 we bought six more. (By my math, that's 360 gallons of storage...)

Then I stood back and let the master work.

Diane got ON it. (Yes, she gets into things...) For days our living room was the site of serious sorting. One pickup load went to the dump. Another load is going to the thrift store. And 360 gallons of stuff was packed into labeled bins and stacked in the basement.

I bought pavers to keep some stuff off the ground. A table in the back wears soup-can shoes. My bunker supplies are labeled and handy.

I promised NSO we could play cards down here. I'm not saying we have to, but we could.

Unabashedly '80s!

OK, Frankie may have a point.

Frankie, who has memorized more music than I've ever heard, gives me unrelenting grief for my musical taste (or lack thereof.) And yes, I'm still an '80s guy.

Driving back to the office in Stockton today from lunch, flipping around and come across a song that makes me stop, then turn the radio up. It's got that rich keyboard bubblegum sound and Patty Smyth vocals. "Shooting out the walls of heartache, bang bang, I am the warrior."

The '80s rule.

Worth the Money

Reading Koji's Kitchen's list of lessons learned in 2006 made me think of a few things I learned last year. Fortunately, the only common mistake we made was The Good Shepherd (I only buy bras at Victoria's Secret...) so the list won't be too redundant. Mostly what I'm thinking about are things worth a little extra cost -- especially if you can get them for less.

So, here's This Land's List of Things Worth the Money:

1. Hot tubs. Get a fully insulated one and use the chemicals they sell at Wal Mart. (And that's not because they're cheaper, but because they work great.) There's a cost to running a tub, but we use the thing damn near every day. It's worth it.

2. Shoes that fit. I used to buy sneakers at Big 5, only on sale, and only spend $20. Until I discovered Sketchers. These shoes fit my feet better than any other brand I've ever worn. I still only buy them on sale, but I'll spend the extra for the comfort.

3. Cotton dress shirts. Sometime back in the spring I saw an ad in the New York Times (which is another thing worth the money) for Paul Fredrick's. Special introductory offer for one of their basic white dress shirts for $19.95. I ordered one. Then got another on clearance. I've picked up three others at The Gap, all on clearance, and all 100% cotton. They look so much better than the cotton-poly blend shirts they sell at Mervyns or Gottschalks. The cost here isn't money -- on sale they're just as cheap -- it's ironing. I don't mind.

4. High-speed Internet. No explanation needed.

5. One nice fountain pen. This is an absolute luxury that most people would not include on the list. But I write for a living so it's on mine. I have a Waterman Charleston.




And, for the heck of it, here's a few Things Not Worth the Money.

1. Watches. The New York Times is filled with ads for very nice, very expensive watches. I have one I bought for $8 at Wal Mart and I defy you to tell the difference. At least from a respectable distance...

2. Edward Jones. Maybe it is worth it for some people, but the fee Edward Jones was going to charge to manage our small retirement holdings was excessive. Besides, since I've taken responsibility for it, I find I'm more actively interested and focused on building our retirement savings.

That's about all I can think of at the moment. Feel free to add to either list!

A Neat New Year

As 2006 ends, we're off to a neat start to the New Year.

When Diane and Gina were gone the other day I sorted my closet, ditched a bunch of stuff I no longer wear and straightened the rest. I know my dress shirts don't need to be on wooden hangers, but at Ross they're really cheap and they look damn nice.

We're getting started on a bigger reorganizing project in the basement, too. When I brought up Christmas boxes I discovered the the bottom on some of them were rotting. The dirt isn't as dry as I thought. So I've declared the basement a cardboard-free zone, and we're going to get everything into plastic or onto shelves. Bought 14 18-gallon stackable containers at Wal Mart today, and Diane's begun the sorting. I'll build shelves, bring in patio pavers, organize and stack until there isn't a single bit of wood or cardboard on the dirt in there. Wood-eating bugs are not allowed. Or at least certainly not encouraged.

Anyway, Happy New Year (and New Fence!) to everyone!

A White (Board) Christmas

My Christmas Eve activities included buying and installing door stops (nothing says Happy Holidays like well-stopped doors) and reorganizing my work file cabinets. They, my desk and the previously described white board are ready for the New Year.

Here's the Board. I know it has nothing to do with Christmas, but I did have an egg nog post recently. Have a wonderful Christmas one and all!

Eggnog as Proof the Devil is Real

I lifted the following in its entirety and made no changes. If the last line does not establish demonic existance, the very idea of combining eggs and rum should.

"Many believe that eggnog is a tradition that was brought to America from Europe. This is partially true. Eggnog is related to various milk and wine punches that had been concocted long ago in the "Old World". However, in America a new twist was put on the theme. Rum was used in the place of wine. In Colonial America, rum was commonly called "grog", so the name eggnog is likely derived from the very descriptive term for this drink, "egg-and-grog", which corrupted to egg'n'grog and soon to eggnog. At least this is one version...
Other experts would have it that the "nog" of eggnog comes from the word "noggin". A noggin was a small, wooden, carved mug. It was used to serve drinks at table in taverns (while drinks beside the fire were served in tankards). It is thought that eggnog started out as a mixture of Spanish "Sherry" and milk. The English called this concoction "Dry sack posset". It is very easy to see how an egg drink in a noggin could become eggnog.
The true story might be a mixture of the two and eggnog was originally called "egg and grog in a noggin"."

An Odd Realization

Had a weird day yesterday. Went to Merced to drop off some gifts (very short sticks like the rest of you got) and visit folks. Mom was off gambling. (Diane keeps saying I should call ahead, but I just don't.) Had a nice visit with Suzie and Katie.

Then there was dad.

Went there first and spent about two hours. Julie was there for part of it, but mostly it was just him and I. And as we talked, I kind of kept waiting for him to ask questions about my life. How's Diane? How's the house? How's work going, natural things like that. But they didn't come. The conversation was about his life, his health, the child support he once paid, paying Chad's mortgage now, etc. (Can you believe that? It baffles me.)

Anyway, he and I went out to lunch and at the end of it he asked two questions: If I was still doing work in Stockton, and was I still teaching at Columbia. And I'm convinced he asked them to be polite. Certainly neither elicited new information.

And it struck me: He really just doesn't care. Not anymore. I don't believe it's social ineptitude or whatever damaged coping mechinism he's used all his life. It felt different. I honestly believe he's sort of filed me (Us? I don't know) away is some distant-past folder.

It's an odd realization. Lord knows I went through several stages of trying to understand and cope after the divorce, and I'm in a good place. But this was a bit unexpected.

Anyway, I wanted to write it down. Next time: Why egg nog is proof the Devil is alive and wants us all to go to Hell.