Kingfisher Cove

Gaaaaaaah!

It’s the week that I knew it would be. Stressful beyond belief.

I’m up to my eyeballs with a HUGE proposal at work, working late each night and dragging myself home through STILL horrific traffic. Tonight I met the office cleaning crew. Heh.

My brother, Dave, dropped by a whole truckload of freshly caught Dungeness crab today, though! Wow, what a treat! (That I actually haven’t “partook” of yet because I tend to lose my appetite when I have to work like this, well into the evening, and feeling this kind of stress. My tummy is pretty much in knots and food really doesn’t sound good). But John has been moaning with pleasure cracking crab and watching the Olympics.

Tomorrow, John begins his new sojourn at his new Boeing digs in Renton. This is HUGE. A whole new job, basically. A new crew to get to know, a gigantic new site to become familiar with, a whole new set of problems/issues/ to solve.

And then! This!

Nate’s ship has arrived to Seattle for Seafair Fleet Week! They actually arrived at the Everett Naval Base yesterday, then motored down here to Seattle today, along with two other naval ships – The USS Pearl Harbor (amphibious dock landing ship) and the USS Bunker Hill (guided-missile cruiser). Nate’s ship is a guided-missile destroyer, the USS Halsey. It looks little in that picture! (But it’s not). He was texting me during their cruise down here from Everett — a little disconcerting because of my focus on the craziness of work, which is a constant flow of emails with details to add to the proposal, then delete because “here’s a new version of this part!" and gobs of materials from subconsultants to pore through and edit and rewrite and strategically place (and then call them out on not providing *THIS* detail, please send immediately – and keeping track of a gazillion things at once. The writing, the formatting, the table-making, the making sure that every one of those gazillion things are covered. Knowing that I was going to be working late (as I will again tomorrow), I got this text from Nate: “Can you bring the Durango down here [at the pier below Pike’s Place Market] around 4:00 so me and my buddies can drive to Anthony’s Restaurant?” [That’s the restaurant here in town he worked at for several years before joining the Navy, and several of his friends still work there – I’m sure he wanted to introduce show off his Navy cohorts to his buddies]. BUT…REALLY, NATE? The Durango is at home. I’m at work here in Seattle. And will be well beyond 4:00. What planet are you from?

So, we got that sorted out (“Oh. Yeah, maybe we’ll take a taxi instead. Total traffic gridlock you say? With the meter running? OK, guess we’ll just hang out here in Seattle.”) YA THINK?

Obviously he has some liberty time this evening, but he isn’t actually released on leave until tomorrow afternoon. He has to participate in the “Parade of Ships and Flight” tomorrow – which is pretty crappy because he is required to participate and won’t be free until late afternoon, but the entire day is considered a “leave day.” It would be like me taking a vacation day and being told I had to work 6 hours, even though I’d be charged that vacation day. That sucks, and he’s totally livid about it. What’s cool for me (and I’ll have to set my iPhone alarm to alert me) is that I should be able to see a good amount of that “Parade of Ships” from our office! We have awesome views of Elliott Bay. As long as I prairie-dog it from my cubicle.

THEN. He has it all scheduled now for family and friends (which includes his dad’s side of the family…awkward!) to conduct a tour of his ship on Thursday at 2:00. Of course John and I must experience this! What an opportunity! Once-in-a-life-time, really! And yet…it’s John’s 2nd day of his “new” job (in the midst of his 1st staff meeting) and it’s the day before my godawful horrendous drop-dead deadline for this proposal.

Stress.

Can you feel it?

More Trees!

De-stressing here at Harstine this weekend, but the “tree drama” continues:

Three more came down today, all on top of each other, as planned!

I had a neurotic little weenie dog on my lap as I took that video (Bailey). She kept trying to crawl into my armpit. You can hear her whining at the end.

I continue to be impressed. A number of these trees have had challenges, in that they were “leaners” or partially rotted, and John specifically wanted them to fall in a certain location — and they all have. Part of it is a technical understanding of physics, but I also know there is an intuitive aspect as well. Where to place the hinge point, where to place the wedge, how far in to cut the hinge, how to prevent the tree from trapping the chainsaw blade, and knowing that escape routes need to be at 45° angles – not directly behind the tree. But also allowing for the unknown, and understanding what that “unknown” might be. He has that understanding.

Our Plot of Paradise is pretty much looking like a war zone right now. So many logs, and growing piles of limbs and branches that will have to sit for who-knows-how-long because a burn ban is in effect. Here is the result of the three trees John cut down today, all landing in the same spot – on the path! What a mess! (Click to embiggen):

We are waiting for our contractor to complete his materials list for the bank. It’s a big job, especially for lumber, and I suspect for the bridge-like foundation elements that will span the gully. We’ve also come to the reality that we won’t be able to afford a metal roof. Very bummed about that – I have totally pictured that house with a forest green metal roof to blend in with the trees and I loved the idea of minimal maintenance. But it alone would be in the neighborhood of 50 grand. Sigh. Just not in the cards. I have a hunch there will be numerous things that we encounter along the way that we’ll need to make compromises. (I still want a stellar kitchen, though!)

~~~~~

It’s been a tiring week, and next week will be so much worse, for both John and I. He begins his new stint at the Renton plant on Wednesday where he will be in charge of the paint hangar facilities and crane maintenance crews (for both the hangars and the 737 production lines).  I have a gigantic proposal due on Friday with a zillion details to accomplish before then with that disheartening “hope” that technical staff and subconsultants will do their part (and experience knows how that goes…). PLUS, Nate is currently on his way up to EVERETT on his ship for Fleet Week (part of Seafair) and will then motor down (on his ship) to Seattle from there at some point next week. He is completely in limbo whether or not he will get any leave time while they’re docked in Seattle. I have no idea when he’ll be able to give us a tour of his ship. Or if I’ll even have a chance to see him at all! (Because I just really can’t be taking time off from work next week, and neither can John…)

Sigh.

The rat race is life-sucking.

~~~~~

On an up-note! My beautiful childhood friend, Helen (who has lived in Oregon all her adult life and is a cat lover – and is Mojo’s ‘birth mom’) brought me this coffee when she visited us here at Harstine over our 4th of July vacation:

I LOVE that it says “Located in Fabulous Boring, OR!” Great marketing, City of Boring!

Changes

I don’t think I’m the only one (by far?) who hates change. I mean, there is good change (like weddings, babies being born, adopting a puppy or kitten) and those tend to be uplifting and exciting. But holy cow. There are so many OTHER changes that do nothing but create stress, havoc, negativity — even if in the long run they end up being for the best. Something you have to look back and realize, because at the time it’s just no good for ‘nothin.

And then there’s the kind of change that is life-altering, that there is nothing to look back at and realize “it was for the best”, and I can’t help but think about those who are directly impacted by the shooting in Aurora, Colorado – whether they lost a loved one, were saved by a loved one who then died saving them, or who witnessed the carnage and have to live with the godawful blood-soaked memories. I can’t honestly imagine. But I don’t have to be kicked by a horse to have some idea of how that would feel. Godawful. Beyond godawful.

Let me just say this about that: I wish mental health care were as easy to get as, say, a gun.

~~~~~

So. John has been transferred to the Boeing Renton site, where he will be the facilities manager in charge of the Renton (737-MAX) paint hangars and the production crane crew. He had no choice, and neither did his current boss who was despairing in having to lose his star manager. Renton WANTED him, based upon John’s reputation, and what Renton wants these days, they get (because of the 737-MAX production). This was formally announced today and John is still in blinking-eye mode. This happened VERY unexpectedly and we’re just pretty much reeling. Yes, this is one of those things that may well end up as a positive, but holy cow. (Did I mention that change is particularly difficult when you’re an old fart?)

~~~~~

My company has hired a new CEO. He starts in two weeks, as part of a year-long transition. We know nothing about him, and my boss — the Corporate Director of Marketing — hasn’t even met him. In previous companies I’ve worked for, the directors of Everything had some sort of input in that type of decision, but not here. Because we all know Nothing, I guess we all have “hope.” Hope that he will be a good communicator. Hope that he won’t allow the Type-A business unit leaders run roughshod over everybody else(er, like the current CEO has…), hope that he has respect for A/E/C marketing practices and doesn’t view our profession as “oh, those gals who piss everybody off with their proposal schedules, and aren’t they just glorified secretaries?” Yup. Hope. Tempered with a whole helluva lot of fear. He’s British. Not sure if that’s good or bad. (Yeah, can’t help but think of Lane Pryce, if you’re a “Mad Men” watcher…)

~~~~~

The Harstine house hasn’t begun…anything yet. Papers to sign, meeting with contractor to establish a contract, that sort of thing needs to take place first before “stuff” starts happening. But we do now have permission from the owners of the empty property beside us to temporarily store “dirt” which will be a huge thing as the excavating takes place. What a (bitter)sweet reply to John’s request:

“John, such a gracious request. By all means use our lot. Congratulations on beginning your island home!

We have not been out Harstine way for a long time, as you can no doubt tell by the height of the scotch broom. Husband Terry has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease, so building on our lot will not be a future possibility for us. And I have fretted about the overgrowth, etc. I'm sure all the neighbors will be appreciative of your "restoration-plus" efforts.”

She is (or was, possibly retired now) a professor at the University of Puget Sound (very well-regarded institution). I recall meeting them when they were looking at the property for the first time. I worry (how can we NOT!) about what the future holds for us – all the more reason to retire as young as we possibly can. It is strange to suddenly be at the stage of life to think that way. For so long, for sooooo many years, I had the attitude of “I’m young, I have my whole life in front of me.” And then screeching brakes! It’s not that way anymore.

• Looking forward to the Olympics. (I always get so engrossed!)
• Looking forward to seeing Nate next week when his ship arrives for SeaFair (not sure of the details about that yet! I keep waiting for the particulars)

Again.

“Should this [disturbed] young man have been able to buy guns, ammunition and explosives? The gun lobby will say yes. And the endless gun control debate will begin again, and the lobbyists of the National Rifle Association will go to work, and the op-ed thinkers will have their usual thoughts, and the right wing will issue alarms, and nothing will change. And there will be another mass murder.” -Roger Ebert   

~~~~~

“In a year, guns murdered 468 people in Australia, England, Germany and in Canada put together, and 9,484 in the United States….‎True, there is no way we can defend ourselves against insane shooters. But I suspect Australia, England, Germany and Canada have about the same percentage of crazy people that we do. It's just that they can't get their hands on firearms so easily. Nor do they sell assault rifles over the counter in those nations.”-Roger Ebert

~~~~~

“Show me a hunter that uses a 100-round drum magazine on a rifle. Just show me one, and I'll show you a person who is not a hunter.” –via Twitter

~~~~~

“Guns don't kill people, people who can legally buy 6000 rounds and 100-round assault rifle magazines off the internet kill people.” –via Twitter

 

I can’t help but believe that the right and the NRA and the politicians bought-and-paid-for to support their cherished gun culture simply view these massacres as collateral damage.

Ever heard of senseful violence?

Important Stuff, Those Lies

What do you think about this? (Sorry about the commercial, but you know…it’s capitalistic society…)

 

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Grumbly

It’s a crabby stream-of-consciousness bullet-point kind of blog post day.

• “Seattle doesn’t have a traffic problem; it has an idiot-driver problem.” ~via John
• Yet another bad hair day. Hoping for a remedy tomorrow night with a cut & color.
• So. Tired. Of. Nothing. But. Clouds. (What summer?)
• Again on the idiot front — so weary of the Faux News crowd calling President Obama “un-American.” And yes, it most definitely smacks of blatant racism. And is utterly stupid.
• And hey, Romney! Release those tax returns from 12 years ago. Did you possibly invest in Sheldon Adelson's casinos? Not pay ANY taxes on the millions of dollars you made (but really didn’t “earn”)? What did you REALLY make while you were CEO of Bain Capital during those years you claim you weren’t the CEO of Bain Capital, even though you were, and earned at least a 6-figure salary doing “nothing” according to you? And explain those millions and millions of dollars in your 401-k – far, far above the legal amount allowed to contribute to a 401-k? Hmm?
• Oh, and while you’re at it, Mittens, I thought as a Mormon that lying wasn’t a noble thing? Because you lie All. The. Time. Pathologically.
• Hey, George Zimmerman, yes you ARE a racist and a murderer! You’re also a molester! (And of course Faux News would support the creep!)
• Despite constant right-wing accusations that President Obama is not a friend to small businesses, the White House announced a $2 billion dollar investment in rural small businesses to be spent over the next four years. Which means the wingnuts will bitch about spending. (See the trend here?)
• I have a new proposal at work with a project manager who is a box of rocks. And I mean it.
• As well as additional head>>desk assignments that make me want to retire TODAY.
• Note to self: Buy a lottery ticket.
• I despise the Boy Scouts. Bigoted asshats. Shame on them.
• Did I mention I want to retire TODAY?
• Done. So done.

Well, except for this.

Idiots.

Mmmm. Dinner.

Great time at the neighbors’ last night! The weather was perfect (until the wind picked up later in the evening, a precursor of what we’re dealing with today: clouds, wind, threat of rain). These are the neighbors that live in the MacMansion next to us (it’s their weekend “place" as they work in Olympia/Tacoma), as well as another couple (retired) who live three or four lots down the other side. They are all very successful people and they’ve sure traveled all over the world! It’s interesting to hear their stories. For all of that, I appreciate how down-to-earth they are. Fun—and funny! Good laughs all evening. And oh boy, good food! Wonderful (thick!) grilled steaks, a salad to die for made with fresh ingredients from our neighbor’s garden (that included several types of lettuce, tomatoes, bits of raw beans, cherry tomatoes, and blueberries!), grilled marinated big-ass shrimp (mango and wine) , and berries with whipping cream over a slice of shortbread that had been brushed with butter and broiled briefly so it had a wonderful melt-in-your-mouth buttery crunch. Oh my.

 

We also had margaritas on the rocks, wine, and plum brandy from Bosnia. Again: oh my!

Here is their view of the water:

Our “kids” were invited to come play with their “kid” (their Yorkshire Terrier, Sam). They loved the rocks surrounding their patio!

What’s interesting is the view of our property from their place, with all those trees down. Click to see it enlarged:

Right now it looks like a war zone. But, we’re looking at the master bedroom end of what will eventually be our house! Heh. Yep, trying to imagine it!

Wild!

Yesterday was crazy all morning in Seattle, and then again all last night here at Harstine Island. Now, I do realize that thunder and lightning storms are common occurrences around this planet, and that there are a whole lot of people who would snicker at what I’d consider “wild.” But for whatever reasons, they are a rarity in western Washington. Oh, we’ll get a 15-minute rumbler roll through now and then, pretty much go “ooooh! aaahhh!” and call it good for another 6 months or year or more. Yesterday was quite different, though. My favorite meteorologist with a Seattle TV news station documented (via radar) over 1,000 lightning strikes in one hour alone. And this storm continued for several hours, parking for a long time directly over downtown Seattle. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to be on the new “Great Wheel” during that time!

As we approached the vicinity of Harstine Island on our drive down last night, we could see distant flashes in the sky. But once we’d unpacked and settled on the deck with a fire, we were in for an amazing light show, completely surrounding us. Everywhere we’d look, the sky was lighting up — either diffused in the clouds or naked bolts appearing to stab the water. And it was strangely quiet. Oh, the thunder would growl now and then and echo off the island across from us, but many of those flashes didn’t seem to be accompanied by thunder. There was one, though. Holy cow. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the brightest flash that lit up the entire environment and I thought, “Wow, sure glad I wasn’t looking in that direction or I could be blind!” It must have been really really really close because the immediate CRACK and BOOM and BANG and ROAR and BLAST that followed – uhm, rather scared me! And I’m not one to be scared of thunder storms. I find them fascinating. But jeebus! Like I said, it had to be extremely close. Like right next to us, over the water.

I aimed my iPhone toward all the activity we were seeing (it was very dark outside) and turned on the video camera for 30-second stints to see what I could capture. For a while, not much. I didn’t want to go longer than 30 seconds because I didn’t want to have to do a bunch of editing. Flashes here and there would show up, but nothing to get excited about. Until this:

Pretty cool, huh? I actually slowed that down to one-quarter speed. And I also grabbed a pretty nifty screenshot from the video:

Sure wouldn’t have been able to see that if John hadn’t cut down the trees that used to be there! After we went to bed, the heavens opened up and dumped hail. Ever heard hail on a camping trailer? Holy shit! It went on forever! I expected to see dents all over it this morning!

One more tree down again today. Another fir, but not a huge one. John worked his butt off clearing the brush around it (to aid in an escape route), falling it, and then cutting off the limbs. He’s napping now. I need to take a shower soon, but since I’ll be using the hair dryer that’ll wake him up for sure, I wanted to let him sleep as long as possible.

THEN, we’re heading to the neighbors for dinner!

IT’S A GO!!!!

Funding has been approved for our Harstine house!

OK, well, with caveats.

We’d asked (and hoped) for a 3-year construction loan because that’s when John will retire – three years from now. We knew that a 3-year construction loan was pretty much unheard of, but we had really good reason for it. With our variance to build a bit closer to the water than current code allows that we were notified will out-of-the-blue expire next year if we don’t show progress (and with new codes going into effect that would make it impossible to build where we want to), we realized we had to start moving forward. But retirement is a ways off, and the economy punched us in the preverbial gut (thank you so much, unregulated Wall Street/Republicans-who-want-it-that-way) . You know, after doing all the right things and being responsible, yada yada yada. Lot of good that did.

Well, it did some good. We have managed to maintain excellent credit scores throughout all of this, even with me being unemployed for 16 months. You know, paying on time on the current mortgage even though the current house has lost most of its value.  And watching our 401(k)s tank beyond belief. (John’s has recovered somewhat).

Well, that 3-year construction loan pie-in-the-sky hope didn’t happen, but they will allow us 18 months. I guess that’s what you call a compromise, even though my teeth are gnashing. And compromises are good things, right? (gnash-gnash). It’ll mean 18 months of double mortgage payments, since we won’t be able to sell THIS house and move for three years (not 18 months). If then. If it’s even possible for BOTH of us to retire when John does, three years down the road.

A good part of me is hand-wringing; the other smaller part of me is rather excited. You know, because this is actually going to happen! Uhm, come hell or high water. Or something.

~~~~~

I needed this to calm me. Love horses? I do from afar; never wished to own any, but they are amazing creatures. Prepare to smile! And feel calmed.

Who knew horses could be so…poetic?

Homeward

Yup, we’re back to the rat race. It was hard to head in to work this morning, once again fighting the godawful traffic and dealing with all the rat-race crapola of everyday life, and knowing this was the first day of five in a row. You know, Day Jail. They’ve got you by those short hairs and they take the best of you so you can on rare occasion enjoy a blissful blink-of-an-eye vacation at the beach. (Unpaid). (Well, now as a regular employee I was paid for the 4th of July holiday, how ‘bout them apples?) I know I shouldn’t complain. But I am so weary of Day Jail. And the rat race. Instead of squirrels squawking at each other and goldfinches tweet-tweeting as they fly around like cheerful lil’ lemon drops and hummingbirds light-sabering inches from our faces and the surf crashing on the beach when boats motor by—today was sirens, truck backup beepers, leaf blowers, honking horns, more sirens, more backup beepers.

I. Will. Take. Harstine. Any. Day.

Sigh.

And the day was nuts, too. Like everything was “stored up for Tonya when she gets back.” Jeezuz.

~~~~~

The weekend was wonderful! Helen drove up from Oregon and arrived about 1:00 on Saturday and pitched her cute lil’ tent down on the landing.

We drank Crantinis, talked each other’s ears off, and enjoyed the warm sun. She was fascinated with John’s tree-falling labors and thoroughly understood the house plans he showed her (much more so than I do, because my spatial abilities are sorely lacking). We ate marinated grilled New York steaks, berry salad, and a baked zucchini/tomato/parmesan dish for dinner. We walked on the beach and collected agates, shells, and unique rocks. We stayed up late on the deck with a fire in the fire thingy and continued to talk each other’s ears off. It was marvelous!

We didn’t leave to head home last night until about 8:00, mostly because the A/C in the Durango keeps cutting out so we wanted the air to cool down a bit to make the ride less miserable. Thankfully, it pretty much cooperated. Beautiful popcorn clouds on fire in the sunset as we approached home. And THEN – I completely slept through it all and had no clue whatsoever, but a wild thunder and lightning storm hit in the middle of the night! John said it was crazy. In fact, everywhere today the buzz was how crazy it was! I was completely unaware. In fact, when I heard about it on the news and on Facebook this morning, I figured it had passed us by! I guess sleeping in my own bed sucked me down into oblivion. I’m not normally a heavy sleeper these days, but last night I sure was! Huh!

~~~~~

Helen, who is Mojo’s “birth mama,” brought him the PERFECT catnip toy – a mouse with FEATHERS, with a pouch for fresh nip. I’ll leave you with a short video of Mojo being silly because he can’t help himself!

Silly Kitty!