50 shades of grey

We got a decent snowstorm on Friday into Saturday, still digging out a bit.  I guess I'll accept that winter is here. As such, I sorted through my clothing, and put away the warm weather stuff. As I looked at my satisfyingly tidy closet, I couldn't help but notice the near monochrome wardrobe left for the next few months.

Really? I had not noticed this happening. When did nearly every warm top I own become some shade of grey?

These are work tops, and my putz-around-the-house tops have slightly more color variety, but Magnum and the pets likely don't care.

While not one to wear ugly Christmas sweaters, I'm still thinking I should make more of an effort with color.

It was a satisfying few days off from work before the remainder of the semester. This coming week is chock full of stuff - panic stricken students hitting me both from the testing side and tutoring side. In addition, I've got two afternoons of interviews scheduled for the assistant boss position. 

I'll be glad to be done with that and have someone to onboard. We've been short staffed all semester, and I'm glad to see several good candidates to sift through. It could be a difficult choice. Fingers crossed we make the right one.

Now, what to wear for interviews? I'm thinking grey? Maybe black?

it's how you use it

I've been working some extra shifts these last two weeks.  A couple of weeks ago featured spring semester finals for the college students. Then this past week, one of my coworkers took a vacation week to Mexico, so I covered one of her long shifts.   I'm looking forward to "normalcy" working hours.

And I'm looking forward to continued spring thaw.  Many signs shout it out, mainly return of allergy sneezing and puffiness and little puffball goose babies around every corner.

I enjoyed a run along the burbling creek this morning. Geese on the water, but I didn't spot any babies.  Childless geese?  Parents getting out for "me time" before the babies are up?

I received an invitation to transfer to a local PEO chapter this week.  I recently blogged about visiting some meetings after being on hold from the 2-year covid lockdown.  This first chapter to invite me to transfer is the one I'd set my sights on and was stalking the hardest. It's all pretty casual, but there are procedures to follow - in that, to transfer, I need to be invited - so we're playing the game.  I'll accept and be done with playing the field, I suppose.

Also at work this week, each of us in my department was given a little "thank you" gift for  making it to the end of another school year and gearing up for the next.  We each received a polo shirt with the college logo and a similarly logoed coffee cup. 

We were told a few weeks ago that this was coming, and in fact, we were to select a size and style for the polo shirt from a box of samples.  I selected the Ladies medium, but when push came to shove, alas, the Ladies medium was unavailable.  

It was no biggie to me, I mean, where would I even wear the thing other than to work?  And we're not required to wear it - it's not a uniform.  

Anyway, the gift bags were bestowed upon us, and I found that the powers-that-be got me a shirt anyway - a Men's small shirt, substituted for the Ladies medium. Putting it on, I look like  a small woman in a man's shirt.  Like a middle school kid wearing his dad's golf shirt for the school dance.

They tried, and I appreciate it. I'm not scrutinizing the mouth of this gift horse. Seriously, though, I will never wear that shirt. 

But it got me thinking.  What if, say, a male coworker selected a Men's medium and it wasn't available.  Would he be given a Ladies large as substitution?  I think not.  But what would they do?

I like the coffee cup.  It will get much use, it's quite the right size.

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Loosely linking up with Mama Kat for the prompt:

1. Write about something you are looking forward to.

en vogue

Winter's coming.  We're all hoping for a ton o' snow to dump on the fires that are burning up Colorado right now, but we'll take whatever we can get.  But I don't want to whine-blog again about the damn fires.  Nope, gonna go sweep those ashes off my patio and under the rug.

I did happen to come across a "cheat sheet" of sorts - a prepared list of what to gather in case of an evacuation for *some reason or other*  for different advanced warning times:

I've known people who've had to be evacuated, and they speak of grabbing their photo albums.  I thought, well, I'd just grab my computer and my external hard drive because that's where my important documents and photos are.  

But no, we have several photo albums from pre-digital-camera times.  I briefly thought about starting a photo scanning-and-organizing project before thinking, "ugh".  God, that sounds tedious and time consuming. Well, the journey of a thousand miles starts with one step and all that.

So I dug out some old photos wondering how much was really worth salvaging.  Some go way back and are from my parents' collections.  

This morning, I headed out for a run, and it was 25F degrees out.  I had to remember what one wears to run in 25F degrees.  Gotta keep warm, but don't want to be too bulky.  

A good head covering is a cold weather friend, and we certainly want to be fashionable at the same time.  Kate Middleton, for instance, knows what's what→→

My search for a suitable hat reminded me that I was once similarly fashionable.  I do have an interest in fashion, although these days, I dress  more for function.  But back in my heyday, Kate and I could've been two peas in a pod as evidence in an unearthed photo from my recent investigations

The fur hat.  Is it ever out of style?

Answer:  Yes.  Absolutely Yes.

(and we won't speak of the pants)

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Linking  up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
1. Throwback Thursday! Find an old photo and share the backstory!

trying to give up smoking

I met with a tutee this morning.  I opened up the online classroom and remembered I was wearing a bandana all, "YEEE-HAAAAW!!"

It's been SO smokey from surrounding wild fires. As if wearing a mask for Covid weren't enough, now I actually want to cover my nose and mouth.  Before I logged on, I'd been wearing the bandana all Bandito-style, then pulled it down and forgot it was there like a bib until the video kicked in.

New summer fash-on. Anyone know a good rain recipe?

Anyway, it's been a minute since I was last bloggin'!  I've been somewhat busy and thought I would summarize my list of productivity:

Firstly, I returned to the hospital job yesterday after three weeks of furlough. Furlough activities include...

• climbing a mountain
• contentedly dispersing my parents' ashes (more on that later, maybe)
• riding a downhill mountain bike park 
• Marie-Kondoing a ton of first aid crap acquired over the years

Seriously, WTH

• applying for new side gig jobs
• getting a golden crown
• watching my tutees, Meego, and related memes as school starts in the year of Covid

• getting a side gig job offer and accepting
• saying "good-bye" to allergy injections
• quitting resigning from my other side gig job

All right, that's enough summarizing.  But does anyone else buy band-aids or itch cream, etc., throw it in a drawer or box and end up with things scattered around the house?  I found some first aid ointment with a 2009 expiration date for chrissake.

Medically speaking, I'm happy with my new golden (tooth) crown and am going to see what happens if I don't mix up another batch of allergy juice.  

On the job front, I've mentioned how my hospital culinary job was stumbling along with hours reduced since Covid restrictions.  All of us took voluntary furloughs, and we're still at reduced hours.  I'm down to one shift a week - that was my yesterday fun.  

I managed to find a very similar job at a nearby rehabilitation facility.  It seems that providing comfort food to the infirm is my retirement calling, and I'm not complaining.  I haven't actually begun working there yet as they are background checking me as I type.  I'm so boring, if they find anything, it's a mistake.  

So I told my hospital boss yesterday, and he was naturally understanding.  Really, I think I'm doing him a favor - one less person to try to keep on the payroll.  As we were chatting toward the end of my shift, my coworker Em entered from the kitchen holding a towel and her hand with her other hand.

"Uhm... I've cut my hand and am going to take care of it.  I'll be right back", she reported

She hadn't returned by the time I left about a half hour later.  I'm thinking her cut was more serious than Boss and I were thinking, and maybe she actually went to the ER down the hall.  I guess I'll find out when I go in for next week's last lone shift.

Either way, I've got plenty of gauze if she needs it.

working for the law

"Are you the sheriff!?  Ahahahaha!"

*snore* They thought they were so witty.

My first real job - a job that provided real paychecks with stubs and FICA and Social Security line items - I took when I was 16.  Well, I think I was actually 15 when I started, but don't say anything because it might've been a violation of child labor laws.

Either way, I was a hostess/busgirl at a popular restaurant establishment that was housed inside a popular hotel establishment in my hometown.  My job was to seat customers, tell 'em the specials, get 'em water, clean up after 'em, make sure all the waitresses had a fair share of tables, blah, blah, blah. I also received payments and made change back in the day when "I can make change" looked good on an application.

The hotel catered mostly to tourists rather than business travelers as it was the first real stop in Colorado just north of the New Mexico border along the interstate.  Plus, my hometown was rather podunk, so who would be there on business?

Other than that, most of our guests at the time were in town for their gender reassignment surgeries, and that's another part of the town's history.

Because of that prime location, the hotel and restaurant were typically very busy and often filled to capacity.  Weary travelers would stop, looking to book a room, and be all shocked to find we had no vacancies.

"B-b-b-but... it's just a little podunk town!"

And at the time, the management played the game by decking the place out in full western regalia.  As if to say, "Welcome to Colorado!  Home of cowboys and cowgirls and nuthin' else!"

As such, a portion of the restaurant, aptly called "the corral", was enclosed in a fricken' horse fence.  All us front of house people wore cowboy shirts and denim skirts.  We wore bandanas around our  necks and had name tags that looked like sheriff badges.

I can't tell you how many times some annoying tourist asked me if I was the sheriff.  There was one who got a little creative and instead asked, "Are you the law?", so I always found him a little more endearing than the others... which isn't saying much.




Here is my class picture taken from my cowgirl busgirl era.  I remember it because I had to register for school after my shift ended and didn't have time to change my shirt, so my class photo for my Junior year looks like I just came in from the barn.


At least I remembered to remove the bandana and sheriff badge and fluff my Farrah hair.





We were actually located outside the city limits, so when we did have to invoke the law, it was indeed the sheriff we called.  A couple times I remember had to do with drunk guys getting in bar fights and a weird couple getting naked in the pool and brandishing a hand gun.

Omigosh, it really was the wild west.

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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
5. Tell us about one of your very first jobs.

Wordless Wednesday?

Wordless?   As if!!

As mentioned, I've been taking advantage of the time off this week to tidy up a bit.  It's Life Changing, I swear it is.  So for Wordless Wednesday, here are a few pics of things that are gone / going away.

• Meego's consumed Secret Santa gift bag from percussion camp = The Gift of Diabetes:

• Wolfgang's wrapped contribution for his workplace Yankee Swap.  Any guesses? 
  Hint:  it's one of the wonders that is the Chia Pet, but which one??

• No, it wasn't ugly sweater day at Magnum's work.  They had a tie-dye day to honor a deceased coworker.  Faces have been blurred to protect the innocent.  

• In our local news, we have the story of The Big Blue Frame.  Creatures were stirring.  Even the mice.  It's gone, but destined to return... somewhere?

• In other news, I sold Bicycle Alice this week to a good home.  I'm 😊/😢 about it.  Will speak of it later.  Maybe.

• And as I was organizing my computer files, I noticed something missing from the photo below. 
  
  Whatizzit?  Anyone?

duck dancing

Hay Carumba!  I've never seen so much rain in my life!

Even when we lived in Rochester, NY, which is the home of Kodak Headquarters and where the local joke is that it's "The World's Biggest Darkroom".  No, even when we lived there, I never saw so much rain.  Not all at once anyways.

Remember this Colorado meme?

Well, here's the latest one:

So I'm sick of rain now.  Never thought I'd say that here.  I mean, I still and will always like rain, but a bit of a recess would be nice.  My heart goes out to the people who have lost property or worse.

I've never known schools to be closed for "rain days", but several had to close today.  There are just so many roads that are either flooded or totally washed away.  And my and Magnum's Alma Matre, CU Boulder, was literally deluged and has been closed for two days.  I feel for the parents who just sent their little freshmen up there.  How nerve racking.

BUT, I've managed to... well, manage.

After the atypical rain took me by surprise for my commute to school and sent me to the dreaded shuttle bus on Wednesday, I made a few adjustments.  I've bicycled myself to class the last two days, when at times it was rather like submarining in.

I nabbed a DriDucks jacket that I found in Chaco or Wolfgang's stash (it's all a collective mess, pretty much), and I MUST sing its praises!

That stuff is The Bomb!  Super duper lightweight, but kept me dry as the naked part of a duck!

Thursday, I wore the jacket over a pair of nylon adidas windpants.  Mother Nature totally laughed at the nylon adidas windpants.  They didn't last 30 seconds before being completely saturated.  See figure 1.

Figure 1

Figure 1 represents just after I arrived back home.  I know the photo is grainy/blurry, but the only ones available to take it were China, Napolion, King Reese, or the unnamed fish.  Right, like fish could take a photo...

Anyway, Napolion took it as he's the smartest of the bunch.

The point is, everything covered by the DriDucks jacket is dry as Colorado in June.  The adidas nylon windpants are embarrassed.

So, it was back to the drawing board (closet) for a little tweaking.




I found a rainsuit that was probably Chaco's from when he was about in 7th grade.  I don't know the brand, it's just made of basic rubbery stuff.  The pants were a bit short, but would do.  I wore them with the DriDucks jacket for this day of delugional bicycle commuting.

Success!

This time the dryness went all the way down to about mid-shin where the rain pants stopped.  Good enough.

In other rain gear test results:

• Spraying shoes with Camp Dry does nothing if rain enters them through the ankles.  
• I think I now know where THE most powerful hand dryers on campus are located.  
• Wearing unpleasantly damp shoes for about two and a half hours does not cause trenchfoot.

Not liking the rain, but at least I got my ducks in a row.
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what we wear

It's like the wrap around a gift.  It's often the first impression.  It's our clothing.  Sometimes, our clothing is the only clue to our personalites.   It can build up or, likewise, destroy our image.  Like it or not, others relate to us through what we wear and the way we wear it.

This is certainly important in our professional lives.  Tips abound for what to wear to job interviews, company parties, "casual Fridays". 

My first job was working in a hotel restaurant in southern Colorado.  Most of our business came from tourism, and my restaurant cohorts and I ran around in our denim skirts, western shirts, - and yes - bandanas tied around our necks.  Our nametags were little metal sherrif badges.  Oh, the abuse. 

I guess when people come to Colorado, they want to see people dressed like "cow people" even if they're in a hotel.  On a side note, I have never actually tipped a cow, but I have tried and failed.  That is for an altogether different post, however...

Despite my failure as a cow tipper, I did collect many a tip at that restaurant job, and I don't doubt that a good percentage of those tips were inspired by my "cowgirl" uniform.

I've been a hotel desk clerk, wearing a dark blazer, dark skirt, and white blouse.  I've been a quality control inspector, wearing a white lab coat.  As an engineer, I usually wore a skirt, casual top, and sensible shoes.  Now, as a tutor, slacks (no jeans) or skirt and the casual top usually do it.

But crossing guard - now there's where clothing is of utmost importance.  First, I have to be seen, hence the orange vest.  Next, I must present an air of dominion over the traffic while always presenting an aura of calm nurturing and safety for the little ones.  Lastly, I must take into account the effect of the elements in any given weather conditions.  All of this taxes me greatly.  I've probably spent whole minutes planning my crossing guard clothing plan.

Today was windy blustery cloudy.  And I had just the ensemble.  Warm yet visible, comfy yet functional, sheltering yet flexible.  i.e. Wolfgang's heather grey track hoodie.  (Don't tell him, he wouldn't like it.  Hopefully he doesn't read this).

As I put on my final preparations before heading out into the zone, Chaco sized me up.

"Hmm.  You look like... The Unabomber".

I was going for convenience-store-thief-caught-on-surveillance-cam, but I guess Unabomber is an equally flattering statement.

what not to wear

A local radio station asks trivia questions on weekday afternoons. Listeners who call in with correct answers to the questions win things like movie tickets or passes to local funcenters and whatnot.

The questions usually involve something that a percentage of some population does, like "7 percent of people have done this before marriage!" Vague stuff like that.

So the other evening, I was driving home when the trivia was, "73 percent of women say they will not date a man who wears this!"

Calls were coming in with answers like, "suspenders", "speedos", "socks with sandals", etc. Eventually, someone called in with the correct answer and scored some minor league baseball tickets or something.

I, in turn, was feeling quite triumphant myself. I got home and asked the fashion challenged Magnum if he'd heard the radio trivia. He hadn't, so I repeated it for him. He began guessing, "suspenders?", "speedos?", "socks and sandals?". I was rather proud of him for at least knowing that much...

But no, none of those were the answer.

"Pleated pants!", I revealed.

See, just recently we had a conversation about just this thing. It was my assertion that men (women too, for that matter) should NOT wear pleats. He was puzzled. He owned some pleated pants. Pleated pants that I had probably purchased. A loooooooong time ago!

Back then it was fine. Things change.

One thing about people with Asperger's is that they don't notice when things change. They often have to be told. Once things are defined for them, the things stay neatly defined that way forever. Hence, the fashion disasters that can ensue.

So, I'd told him about the pleats, but it was the radio trivia that got him to discard the pleats. Seventy-three percent of women is powerful.

Now... about that 20-year-old rugby shirt...
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scene on a sidewalk

I saw him at first from a distance. But still, I was pretty sure he was male.

He was pushing a baby in a stroller. Just the two of them out enjoying some midday sun and fresh air.

He wore a striped polo shirt, a pair of sensible white athletic shoes, a pair of denim.... capris.

Yes, they were definitely capris - not just mere highwaters - landing at just the perfect capri spot at lower-calf. He wore ankle socks.

It occurred to me then that I had never seen a man wearing capris. It occurred to me then that I was turned off by a man wearing capris.

I pondered this. No, not the man wearing the capris. I pondered my reaction to it. (Well, okay, maybe I did ponder this man a little...) What was so off-putting? I pondered his "ability" to have actually fathered that baby he was strollering around.

Just a piece of clothing.

After all, I've noticed that I CAN like a man in a skirt.

But I don't know if even Brad Pitt can make capris work.

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let's hope he doesn't turn emo

I don't know how he does it. Of all the possible combinations (I calculate it to be about 35), Meego manages to pick the ONE shirt/pants combo that Just. Does. Not. Do.

He emerged from his room this morning wearing a bright tie dyed t-shirt and a pair of camo cargo pants... [Take a moment to picture it].... Now, as a mom, I know I must pick my battles. Generally, clothing battles are not worth it. But I couldn't let that one go, especially since he's worn that particular ensemble before with me biting my tongue all the way to school. It's not that he's trying to be particularly CLASH, he just has no fashion sense whatsoever. What. So. Ever.

"Uhm... you should change either your pants or your shirt", I mumbled nonchalantly.

"Why?", he replied cluelessly.

"That outfit is just too..... busy", I clarified elusively

"I can't wear this SHIRT?!", he pried confusingly

"That shirt's fine, just not with THOSE pants", I explained provokingly.

"I can't wear these PANTS?!", he emoted dramatically.

"The PANTS are FINE, just not with THAT SHIRT.", I expounded frustratingly.

(conversation continues a bit longer with similar abrasive befuddlement)

In the end, Meego gave in. Left in a huff and re-emerged from the room having changed the pants to a pair of solid grey cargo pants. Much better.

Except they're too short.

I kept that to myself.
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Scrawn II

As mentioned, the weather's cooled off. That means that more skin is covered. That means that shorts are being replaced by pants.

Now, I know a lot of parents that go do this big back-to-school shopping trip in the fall and stock up on the new school clothes. I don't. I prefer to wait until they start whining.

The whining has begun. And rightfully so.

They're whipping out their jeans and pants now that the weather's colder. Of course none of them fit, unless we were to live in a floodplain. Which we don't.

So, last night, after the musical chairs version of clothing sorting happened - salvageable Chaco's pants going to Wolfgang, salveagable Wolfgang's pants going to Meego - I was forced into a jeans shopping trip.

I learned that there are plenty of "Husky" jeans out there. Wolfgang and Meego are okay with their Regular sizes, but Chaco needs the slims. A major portion of his height is in his legs, so although he's 14, he needs size 18 pants. He needs size 18 inseam to go on his size 14 waist. "Husky" won't do.

And I thought finding jeans for ME was difficult.

Eventually, we found some - on sale even - WOOT! One pair of 18-slims on the shelf. I laboriously dug and found one more pair. I scarfed them both before some other lank happened by.

Ready to throw elbows if necessary.
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rambling randomness

The Debate

No, not that one... Thanks to everyone for the "to dye or not to dye" tips, comments, etc. I still think the color is too pastel for me, but maybe not so bad with jeans. Before, I'd usually worn it with light colored slacks or skirt, but just threw it on over my jeans for that blog pic. Maybe I'll leave it in Pepto Bismol, maybe I'll try Brandy's dye recipe, maybe I'll re-re-gift (to Beej?). Okay, enough of that...


Things That Make Me Go "Ho Hum"

Paris Hilton said something stupid.

Clay Aiken is gay.

Madonna's getting a divorce.


Cheatin'

Yesterday, I had this thing planned. I'd been looking forward to it, actually. After getting Meego's breakfast, I began to make my preparations, but... but... Magnum. He kept hanging around. Why wasn't he leaving for work?

See, I had to make this soup for a potluck. I'd chosen a hearty Vegetable Pasta soup recipe. It calls for a couple of zucchinis. Now, you know that Magnum is the family gardener, and he has nice zucchini, if I do say. I've always been quite satisfied with his zucchini. In fact, it had gotten to the point where it was almost too much zucchini for me to handle.

But lately, things had gone cold. The zucchini just wasn't happening as often. And when it did happen, the zucchini quality just wasn't as it was in earlier days. For the last month or so, we've actually had no zucchini.

So I got a little desperate. I just really wanted this soup. And I wanted it to be goooood soup. I let my own desires come first. I went out looking for zucchini. Yes, I admit it here, I got some store bought stranger zucchini.

I just couldn't bring myself to tell him - Magnum. I figured I could just have my way with the zucchini, then send it off to the potluck, and Magnum would never be the wiser. But why... WHY wasn't he leaving for work?!

Well, actually, he finally did leave. Just in the nick of time - when I just couldn't wait any longer. Just before I whipped out the stranger zucchini and started the full day of slow, slow, sweet 'n' slow cooking. All day long. And it was just right.

That soup.
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dyeing for advice

Remember a while back, I mentioned in passing that I had this sweater that was a yucky color for me, but otherwise I liked it? Of course you do!

I haven't done a thing about it. I'm contemplating dying it somehow, but don't know the best approach. I was over reading Anna's knitting blog, and she was gushing about wonderful yarn colors and such, and it reminded me that I had this ugly green sweater.

So here it is in all of its if-pepto-bismol-was-green-it-would-be-this-color glory. That is my Sears Catalog pose. Sorry for the darkness, it was a rare gloomy day in Colorado. And I'm wearing my Battleship Bling that Magnum and the kids got me at that Airshow. This saved me having to take and post two pics.

Okay, so maybe this color would look right on someone lighter skinned and haired than I am, but I am anything but light skinned and haired. I'm a consumate Fall, according to the quickie Reader's Digest What Color Type are You?

And just to clarify, this sweater was given to me by a well-meaning giver. I doubt it was actually purchased with me in mind, it was more of a charity case re-gift. Okay, it was from Mom - who also happens to be the same Reader's Digest Fall that I am, so I have no idea why she even had this sweater in the first place.

So if anyone has ever dyed a sweater and had good results, I'd be interested in any tips or tricks or "lessons learned" you could share. The label says: "55% RAMIE. 45% COTTON. LOOPED AND STITCHED IN HONG KONG. KNITTED IN CHINA. CARE ON REVERSE." The buttons are some kind of plastic.

Or, as a fall back, in case there aren't any known ways to do a good dye job on the thing, I'll entertain any "Free to a Good Home" offers. Falls need not apply.

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