Yesterday was Earth Day, and I celebrated it in a variety of ways.
I am one of three co-Chairs of my workplace’s ‘Green Committee’ and we recently completed a fairly comprehensive environmental audit (with an outside consulting firm) of our operations. It’s the first one my organization’s ever done. Yesterday, Earth Day, we had the opportunity to present the results of our audit to all of our colleagues (about 230 people). Co-Chair #1 went up and introduced the project, gave some background, and passed the mic to Co-Chair #2, who outlined the findings of the audit. Then they gave the floor to me, who was to explain the next steps and communication of the audit results.
I firmly believe that not all people are good at everything. There are a lot of things that I am really really good at: I can knit pretty well, I can cook a mean dinner, I am a pretty competent driver, I walk really well and I can write a list like nobody’s business. However, this means that there are necessarily things that I am not good at. This category includes team sports, juggling, dieting, doing hair, understanding concepts verbally i.e. without drawings, having patience, cooking potatoes and public speaking.
I got up there well enough – made it to the podium without falling or farting or anything* – but things started to go downhill very shortly after I got there. For some reason, about 10 seconds into my presentation, I forgot to breathe. Once I was behind myself by one solid breath, I couldn’t pace any future breaths, and started to breathe too shallowly. My voice started to wobble audibly, and my palms got really sweaty. I tried to pause – everyone in the room was uncomfortable by then – but the problem was still there when I continued. It was physical, but exacerbated by nerves. I think I told everyone I had a cold but I can’t remember. I think I must have blacked out. Anyway, I managed to skip part of my presentation, get the slides screwed up, then tried to back out of the last paragraph by asking Co-Chair #1 to take over for me but he didn’t get my cry for help and refused. I finished it off ok, but it has to have been the most embarrassing moment of my entire career.
People keep coming up to me and asking me if I’m ok. It’s so humiliating. One of my colleagues, an older gentleman who I like very much, told me that once he had to do something similar, and broke down crying. So you see we can’t be good at everything. Happy Earth Day everybody at my work!
When we got home, we took Rosie out for a walk. Up the road, she startled a partridge, which promptly flew into a neighbor’s window and killed itself. My neighbor came out in her cute little flannel penguin pyjamas and pronounced him dead at the scene, and offered it to us. Rosie went mental. She has never actually had her mouth on a freshly-killed anything before, and her wolfy nature came out full scary force. She was thrashing all over the road, yelping and acting the fool, so we took the poor dangly-necked bird home and dispatched it. Hubby stood on its wings and pulled on its feet and it’s really disconcerting how little effort it takes to completely disembowel a partridge. They were meant for eating, apparently. No tools required. We gave Rosie the remains and she went all National Geographic on us in the yard, rolling in it, covering herself with feathers, then after about 45 minutes of playing with the dead thing, she finally ate it all. Crunch crunch, feathers and all. We went on our walk and came home and she promptly barfed up the entire dead bird on the futon. Happy Earth Day everybody!
* Sorry, that was crude, but it’s always a concern. You know.
4/23/09
4/21/09
So about that camper...
The saga of the camper continues.
I found, once I really got into it, that there had been more water damage than I expected in our beloved trailer. Some of it was still wet when I opened up the walls. I ended up having to remove the back walls, the back ceiling, and re-build the wooden inner structure of the walls and back end. The floor was wobbly, so I firmed it up with some 2x4s, and have ended up unscrewing and screwing everything back together. It’s been a challenge.
I am now nearly finished ‘shoring up’ the back end of the trailer. I have yet to screw the outside of the trailer to the new 2x4 on the floor, but that will happen soon.
I am discovering new things every time I go into it. I lifted up the seat bases in the ‘dining room’ and discovered the water tank, filled with black mold. That will be coming out, or cleaned and repurposed as grey water disposal. The trim on all of our cabinets is loose and gappy. Whoever did the last paint job wasn't so careful about avoiding hardware, doorknobs, etc. I discovered that someone had likely run the camper into a tree at some point, and the front end is all crunched in at the back of a cabinet. Water damage followed, so the bottoms of the upper cabinets have to be replaced. I found a little plaque that says “God Bless This Camper.” Indeed.
What do you get for $600?
All of this being said, I am still enthusiastic and my vision for the trailer still stands. I have or will have torn out:
- the bunk bed in the back
- the stove (we will use a coleman – same thing)
- the cushions on the front benches (will replace)
- the countertop
- the linoleum backsplash
- the fluorescent light above the sink
- the toilet (will replace with a chemical toilet)
- the window cranks (replaced)
- the window screens (replaced)
- the mattress at the back (replaced)
- the table (replaced)
- the furnace/air conditioner
- the walls at the back end
- the walls at the front end
- the floor of the cabinets at the front
- and potentially the vinyl flooring, to be replaced with wood-look laminate, of which we have a ton left over from previous projects.
We’ve determined that we don’t need a tap, a flushing toilet, a stove, an air conditioner, electric lights, or anything that requires electricity, propane, or running water. This is pretty much a glorified tent, that you can stand up in and keep stuff in during the week, with a chemical toilet and a place to wash dishes.
I’ve already thrown a bunch of this stuff out, and have purchased many of the supplies needed to get it shipshape. I have a vision. Behold (this is as if you were peeking into the kichen window):
Maybe I’m dreaming in technicolour, but stay tuned.
I found, once I really got into it, that there had been more water damage than I expected in our beloved trailer. Some of it was still wet when I opened up the walls. I ended up having to remove the back walls, the back ceiling, and re-build the wooden inner structure of the walls and back end. The floor was wobbly, so I firmed it up with some 2x4s, and have ended up unscrewing and screwing everything back together. It’s been a challenge.
I am now nearly finished ‘shoring up’ the back end of the trailer. I have yet to screw the outside of the trailer to the new 2x4 on the floor, but that will happen soon.
I am discovering new things every time I go into it. I lifted up the seat bases in the ‘dining room’ and discovered the water tank, filled with black mold. That will be coming out, or cleaned and repurposed as grey water disposal. The trim on all of our cabinets is loose and gappy. Whoever did the last paint job wasn't so careful about avoiding hardware, doorknobs, etc. I discovered that someone had likely run the camper into a tree at some point, and the front end is all crunched in at the back of a cabinet. Water damage followed, so the bottoms of the upper cabinets have to be replaced. I found a little plaque that says “God Bless This Camper.” Indeed.
What do you get for $600?
All of this being said, I am still enthusiastic and my vision for the trailer still stands. I have or will have torn out:
- the bunk bed in the back
- the stove (we will use a coleman – same thing)
- the cushions on the front benches (will replace)
- the countertop
- the linoleum backsplash
- the fluorescent light above the sink
- the toilet (will replace with a chemical toilet)
- the window cranks (replaced)
- the window screens (replaced)
- the mattress at the back (replaced)
- the table (replaced)
- the furnace/air conditioner
- the walls at the back end
- the walls at the front end
- the floor of the cabinets at the front
- and potentially the vinyl flooring, to be replaced with wood-look laminate, of which we have a ton left over from previous projects.
We’ve determined that we don’t need a tap, a flushing toilet, a stove, an air conditioner, electric lights, or anything that requires electricity, propane, or running water. This is pretty much a glorified tent, that you can stand up in and keep stuff in during the week, with a chemical toilet and a place to wash dishes.
I’ve already thrown a bunch of this stuff out, and have purchased many of the supplies needed to get it shipshape. I have a vision. Behold (this is as if you were peeking into the kichen window):
Maybe I’m dreaming in technicolour, but stay tuned.
4/7/09
Springy?
As I write this, snow is pelting past my window at a 45 degree angle. I fear for all of the teeny little perennial nubbins that were popping up in the garden this past weekend, which I uncovered (silly me), all excited that spring had finally arrived. I’m assuming that these early bulbs and perennials (tulips, columbines, crocuses, jacob’s ladder) will survive a couple of days of wet snow but it’s still sad to think of them out there, all soggy and freezing. Boo.
Rosie loves it though, the little freak. I let her out to pee last night and she tore around the snowy yard in a big circle, her back end nearly flying over her front. She loves the snow – and the water. Anything wet and messy.
The seeds in my grow-op are coming up; so far I’ve got a bunch of tomatoes, and I think one basil or some other stringy thing (an errant weed) in the basil cell. Eggplants and peppers aren’t up yet, and neither is tarragon or basil. The tomatoes win the race this year. They’re so tall (and stringy) that I had to remove the cover of the seed-starter. I grew two varieties this year: ‘Winterkeeper’, which I will apparently be able to pick late in the season and keep in my basement into the winter, and ‘Teton de Vénus’, which I bought because I belive it means ‘Venus nipple’. How could I resist?
As for progress made on other projects, so far I’ve been really good at finding people to do stuff for me. I have to nail them down still with regards to specific dates, but I have found an eavestrough/sofit person who charges very little, and a handyman to do all of my heinous jobs, also for very little. This makes me happy. I have a bit of preliminary work and shopping to do but I look forward to coming home and having the work done for me. I am getting so bourgeois and old.
I called a lady who does slipcovers in my area, to see what a couch slipcover would cost me, and nearly snorted my lunch out of my nose when she told me it’d run to about $1,000. I paid $600 for my couch, and it is used primarily by my dog, so I won’t be going that route. Looks like the mother and I are going to have to do it ourselves.
Tile backsplash is done, and it is beautiful. Photos to come (as soon as I tidy up the kitchen).
I have booked a ton of appointments over the course of the next month or so. I will be all caught up and checked out by mid-may. Also, have booked an appointment with the municipality guy for April 30 to discuss permits/allowances/bylaws/regulations for our new land.
Have also collected two cedar logs (free) for my side garden project. More progress will be made on this soon…maybe hubby can practice using our superduper new chainsaw.
And another project that I have not yet mentioned: turning Rosie from a crate dog into a free-in-the-house dog. We left her out of her crate last Friday, and it went swimmingly. We’re trying to get her used to the idea of being mature and responsible, a little bit at a time. So far so good.
Speaking of dogs (when am I not?), we will soon have a new doggie extended family member. My brother-in-law in Austria called us last weekend to tell us to check our email, where we found pictures of their tiny little four-week-old black lab puppy, Dakota. Little Austrian Dakota, who goes home to them on May 3. I am very excited for them, and look forward to hearing their tales of chewed arms, sleepless nights, ruined furniture… good times. Here I was afraid that Rosie was too much for them to take at Christmas time. Guess she wasn’t that bad after all.
Rosie loves it though, the little freak. I let her out to pee last night and she tore around the snowy yard in a big circle, her back end nearly flying over her front. She loves the snow – and the water. Anything wet and messy.
The seeds in my grow-op are coming up; so far I’ve got a bunch of tomatoes, and I think one basil or some other stringy thing (an errant weed) in the basil cell. Eggplants and peppers aren’t up yet, and neither is tarragon or basil. The tomatoes win the race this year. They’re so tall (and stringy) that I had to remove the cover of the seed-starter. I grew two varieties this year: ‘Winterkeeper’, which I will apparently be able to pick late in the season and keep in my basement into the winter, and ‘Teton de Vénus’, which I bought because I belive it means ‘Venus nipple’. How could I resist?
As for progress made on other projects, so far I’ve been really good at finding people to do stuff for me. I have to nail them down still with regards to specific dates, but I have found an eavestrough/sofit person who charges very little, and a handyman to do all of my heinous jobs, also for very little. This makes me happy. I have a bit of preliminary work and shopping to do but I look forward to coming home and having the work done for me. I am getting so bourgeois and old.
I called a lady who does slipcovers in my area, to see what a couch slipcover would cost me, and nearly snorted my lunch out of my nose when she told me it’d run to about $1,000. I paid $600 for my couch, and it is used primarily by my dog, so I won’t be going that route. Looks like the mother and I are going to have to do it ourselves.
Tile backsplash is done, and it is beautiful. Photos to come (as soon as I tidy up the kitchen).
I have booked a ton of appointments over the course of the next month or so. I will be all caught up and checked out by mid-may. Also, have booked an appointment with the municipality guy for April 30 to discuss permits/allowances/bylaws/regulations for our new land.
Have also collected two cedar logs (free) for my side garden project. More progress will be made on this soon…maybe hubby can practice using our superduper new chainsaw.
And another project that I have not yet mentioned: turning Rosie from a crate dog into a free-in-the-house dog. We left her out of her crate last Friday, and it went swimmingly. We’re trying to get her used to the idea of being mature and responsible, a little bit at a time. So far so good.
Speaking of dogs (when am I not?), we will soon have a new doggie extended family member. My brother-in-law in Austria called us last weekend to tell us to check our email, where we found pictures of their tiny little four-week-old black lab puppy, Dakota. Little Austrian Dakota, who goes home to them on May 3. I am very excited for them, and look forward to hearing their tales of chewed arms, sleepless nights, ruined furniture… good times. Here I was afraid that Rosie was too much for them to take at Christmas time. Guess she wasn’t that bad after all.
4/6/09
Camping, updated
I would love to tell you that I am a camper. I would love to be able to talk about the latest high-tech tent I bought at Mountain Equipment Co-op, the fancy little one-burner stove I’ve got for making my coffee in the neat steel percolator I found at a nifty camping store in so-and-so little town. I would love to be able to brag about back-packing into remote locations and setting up shop, pooping in the woods and taking it all back home with me.
Unfortunately, I have to be honest with myself. I live in the country. I have never lived in the city (except for a couple of years there, which I didn’t love as much in practice as I did in theory and during which I did actually like to camp a lot) and have usually had a home where I could see more trees than neighbors. I have never felt the primal need to get ‘out there’ and set up camp, feeling like an explorer, reveling in the hardship. I’m already out there. I don’t like sending my food up a tree. I hate having my legs restricted in sleeping bags that I can’t pull up over my ears. I hate trying to track down that one mosquito who got into the tent. I’ve done it, I’ve enjoyed it, and I’ve got some great memories of really fun camping trips, but when asked the honest question “do you want to go camping?” I would have to say the answer is usually no, I prefer to keep my bed dry and my food close by.
I’m a good camper, too. I can cook a mean dinner on an open fire. I can set up a tent in the dark. I can wash dishes with very little water and very little impact. I do actually like camping on islands (fewer bears, more swimming) and can canoe there and make it downright homey. I don’t even so much mind going to the bathroom over a log. However for some reason, whenever I go camping I have the overarching urge to sleep. I become narcoleptic. Maybe it’s because I’m like 100% relaxed, or maybe it’s because there isn’t much to do but sit around, but all I want to do at all hours of the day is sleep. When I’m awake, I like to drink. I’m usually too cold, or damp, have allergies or sore hips or both, am dirty, or my hair is itchy, so sleeping and drinking distract me from all of that.
When I go camping (and there will be more tent camping in my future, I’m sure), I must have access to the following things at all times:
- un-frigid water to swim in, preferably rocky and clear;
- sunshine, lots of it;
- a toque for sleeping;
- food, lots of it, mostly junky;
- booze, see above, beer for hot afternoons and red wine for cool nights;
- lots of polar fleece clothing;
- many changes of underwear;
- a book or magazine or something to distract me;
- a folding camp chair;
- friends, for variety.
So it ends up being “well for both of us we need the big tent. Then I need something to sleep on. Then my sleeping bag isn’t warm enough so I need a fatter one. Then we need the coleman stove, the cooler, the food bag, the beer, the wine, my backpack, hubby’s backpack, something(s) to sit on, dishsoap, toilet paper, spatulas, forks, knives, salt and pepper, towels, tarps, bungee cords, rope, rain jackets, life jackets, paddles, fishing equipment and I am exhausted just thinking about it.
All this being said, I am about to take camping to a new level. Behold, the camper:
Unfortunately, I have to be honest with myself. I live in the country. I have never lived in the city (except for a couple of years there, which I didn’t love as much in practice as I did in theory and during which I did actually like to camp a lot) and have usually had a home where I could see more trees than neighbors. I have never felt the primal need to get ‘out there’ and set up camp, feeling like an explorer, reveling in the hardship. I’m already out there. I don’t like sending my food up a tree. I hate having my legs restricted in sleeping bags that I can’t pull up over my ears. I hate trying to track down that one mosquito who got into the tent. I’ve done it, I’ve enjoyed it, and I’ve got some great memories of really fun camping trips, but when asked the honest question “do you want to go camping?” I would have to say the answer is usually no, I prefer to keep my bed dry and my food close by.
I’m a good camper, too. I can cook a mean dinner on an open fire. I can set up a tent in the dark. I can wash dishes with very little water and very little impact. I do actually like camping on islands (fewer bears, more swimming) and can canoe there and make it downright homey. I don’t even so much mind going to the bathroom over a log. However for some reason, whenever I go camping I have the overarching urge to sleep. I become narcoleptic. Maybe it’s because I’m like 100% relaxed, or maybe it’s because there isn’t much to do but sit around, but all I want to do at all hours of the day is sleep. When I’m awake, I like to drink. I’m usually too cold, or damp, have allergies or sore hips or both, am dirty, or my hair is itchy, so sleeping and drinking distract me from all of that.
When I go camping (and there will be more tent camping in my future, I’m sure), I must have access to the following things at all times:
- un-frigid water to swim in, preferably rocky and clear;
- sunshine, lots of it;
- a toque for sleeping;
- food, lots of it, mostly junky;
- booze, see above, beer for hot afternoons and red wine for cool nights;
- lots of polar fleece clothing;
- many changes of underwear;
- a book or magazine or something to distract me;
- a folding camp chair;
- friends, for variety.
So it ends up being “well for both of us we need the big tent. Then I need something to sleep on. Then my sleeping bag isn’t warm enough so I need a fatter one. Then we need the coleman stove, the cooler, the food bag, the beer, the wine, my backpack, hubby’s backpack, something(s) to sit on, dishsoap, toilet paper, spatulas, forks, knives, salt and pepper, towels, tarps, bungee cords, rope, rain jackets, life jackets, paddles, fishing equipment and I am exhausted just thinking about it.
All this being said, I am about to take camping to a new level. Behold, the camper:
(not our picture or our stuff)This little puppy was found on a local used-stuff website, and we got it for only $600. It will be placed permanently on our piece of land, at the lake, and will be our ‘summer home’ until we have a cottage built, in futuretimes.
I have big plans for this camper. There was a feature in Domino magazine (R.I.P.) called ‘can this outfit be made into a room’ or somesuch nonsense, and for this camper project, it will be Genny’s design challenge: Can This Room Be Made Into A Camper?
(a terrible picture of what is actually quite a nice room)
Our new little acquisition will be completely gutted, its fittings replaced with new ones, a wider bed, better storage, sleeker accessories, a comfy seating area, nice flooring, a decent (chemical) toilet, a deck, patio furniture, BBQ, and outdoor lighting. We have zero power up at our land save for what can be powered by propane and solar panels, so living in there will be a challenge, aimed at readying us for our eventual off-grid cottage. It has to be comfy, dry, well-ventilated, spacious, and Rosie-fied (i.e. easy to clean). I will paint the interiors, build a new and spacious table, make nice foam cushions for the seating area, buy all new plush bedding, get baskets for our stuff (Scrabble, first-aid kit, blankets, etc), and install laminate wood-look flooring. And decorate. I’m going to leave the outside looking shabby, and make the inside sleek, elegant, and cozy. The deck will be built out of our former deck at home (once it becomes the former deck) and my dad built us some lovely compact patio furniture. I bought exterior solar lights at Ikea (they have a lot of solar-powered stuff for summer!) and look forward to stocking the kitchen with finds from the Great Glebe Garage Sale.
I am really looking forward to CAMPING in my CAMPER this summer. I may never be satisfied with a tent again!
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