I don’t know why but I am feeling a bit nostalgic for kindergarten. I miss those days where it was ok to wear a giant shirt and get paint all over you. When everything was a new adventure and it was ok to make mud pies, even if you didn’t plan to eat them. When losing your teeth was AWESOME.

There are many other things that make me nostalgic, but these just stand out. What do you miss about kindergarten?

I made my decision on my business cards and domain. I stuck with my original choice. Josh still isn’t keen on it, but it is my domain. He has his own. Now I am going to just wait for the DNS to resolve. I played around with a logo but in the end I decided I probably don’t need one. Not yet at least.

I’m planning to use a CMS to power it. I haven’t decided on which one just yet. I am trying to think of the content that needs to be added first. Oi vey, what a chore.

Tomorrow is Labor Day here in the U.S. It got me thinking about first jobs. My first job as an adult was as a web designer. Go figure. I was hired because someone overheard that I could do it and they were in a pinch. Their desperation = My win! That was over 14 years ago. Granted, I was 18, but still, it seems like forever. So, what was your first job as an adult? Do you remember it fondly or do you cringe at the mention of it? Do you need therapy because of it?

I am seriously contemplating a return to globe trotting. I traveled a lot in my younger (read pre-teens) and I want to do it again but now with my husband. I’m hoping that recent revelations by my husband about possible discounted travel options lead to awesome adventures over seas. Keep your fingers crossed; we may jump the pond! Can England handle my return? Probably.

In other news. I am starting my extra-edumacation. I’m doing some online stuff  now and will probably enroll in some courses for the Fall semester. Didn’t I just finish school? What am I thinking?

I’m dabbling in new waters at work using Google, GIS layers and user inputs. I have gotten my ankles and shins wet but once I get the files I need, I’m going in the deep end! Look out world, my brain is expanding!

Speaking of deep end. When I was little I would hang on to the edge of the pool while in the deep end. I was not confident in my dog-paddle technique. Eventually I learned to swim properly, became addicted to and loved being in the water.

This random bit of non-sense has been brought to you by Josh getting a work call just before bed.

Now that work has settled down a little. I am going to try to post more often.  I’m going to look into an app that will allow me to post via my phone. I’m picky about the interface, so it is always a challenge to find something I like.

This weekend I shop at Ikea with Brittany. We are decorating her room in all black and white. This should be interesting.

I am 4.5 weeks away from reaching my one year anniversary at work. It seems like weeks. I nearly skipped applying for it because I discovered it the day before the deadline. I’m glad I did. I’m actually happy. It sucks having to drive through downtown traffic, but at least I work with fun people and I get to leave my desk and meet with people in other departments. It’s nice to see what goes on elsewhere.

With budget cuts and everything, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I will still be employed six months from now. I refuse to become complacent at work and insist that my job is secure. Never slack off. You never know!

Around the same time, the kittens will turn one. I won’t be able to call them kittens anymore. The boys are nearing full growth. Hugo finally grew into his head and paws. Spot grew into his tail. Dini and Sawyer are still pretty small. Sawyer was probably the runt, but she is the most adorable. I think she will forever have a kitten appearance. I won’t complain.

This June Josh and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. My how the time has flown. It seems like only yesterday we got married.

OK, enough with the calendar. I’m going to sketch out my plans for Brittany’s room. We think so alike that this will actually be fun!

Many months ago I was watching NOVA on Public Television and they were on the topic of Play Pumps. If you’ve never heard of it, it is a merry-go-round that also functions as a pump. While it is played with, it pumps water into a water storage tank. It is a great little innovative thing that can help a village while at the same time encouraging children to play.

I can recall as a child loving the merry-go-round. There were two types that I used to play on. There was the one with the flat base that you could stand or sit on. Then there was the type at old Barking Park. Those were similar to the Play Pumps style.  It took me a while to work up the nerves for that type of merry-go-round. I was the youngest out of my family (brothers and cousins), so I evaluated the possibilities of being pushed off of it and opted to wait until I was bigger.

I recall a lot from Barking Park. Especially the video my parents have, where I declare my dislike of “that kind of water”. By that I meant any water that wasn’t clear. I managed to get over that dislike, but I am still a little reserved when it comes to murky waters. Shouldn’t we all be?

So what brought all of this on? The word pump. One word and the flood of flashbacks began. Isn’t that always fun?

I have been going through old photos we have on the server. There are roughly ten years worth of photographic evidence of my existence. Well, maybe not so much. I was the photographer in 99% of the photos. I did notice quite a few photos of my cat. I think it is because she is such a willing subject. The kittens are only willing when there is food involved or if they are tired. Kittens are tired often, so they have made for good subjects as of late.

My darling evil princess is asleep on my desk. I have managed to remove my mouse from her clutches, but my camera, external HD and anything else I would like to use is under her. She is sleeping so soundly now that I really don’t want to disturb her. She is very adorable when she sleeps. It is the only time that her nickname is not true.

I think I shall just let her be and I will go read a book. At least she won’t try to climb onto it then.

I forgot to mention in my previous post. I swore pretty loudly at one scene. Only because it brought on a very vivid flashback. It was the scene with Maroni and his ankles. Having fallen straight down from the top of a loft bed, I know first hand how effing painful that is, so I easily multiplied the pain. I still have problems with my ankles, ten years later.

Vinyl for fun

I’m sick, but bored. I’ve been sifting through our vinyl and decided to take a picture of some of my favorites. I’m listening the the Richard Pryor album right now. Yeah, he really was that notty. The Chipmunk Punk album came out when I was almost three. Oh and yes, those really are the SuperFly, Rocky and Star Wars soundtracks. Brittany is probably plotting to take the Star Wars one upon my death. Kids.

In eleventh grade we had to memorize Thanatopsis and recite the last part. For some odd reason, I have always remembered it and every so often I find myself reciting it for no particular reason.

by William Cullen Bryant

To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And gentle sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;–
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around–
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air,–
Comes a still voice–Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that hourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolv’d to earth again;
And, lost each human trace, surrend’ring up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements,
To be a brother to th’ insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thy eternal resting place
Shalt thou retire alone–nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
, With patriarchs of the infant world–with kings
The powerful of the earth–the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre.–The hills
Rock-ribb’d and ancient as the sun,–the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The vernal woods–rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and pour’d round all,
Old ocean’s grey and melancholy waste,–
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.–Take the wings
Of morning–and the Barcan desert pierce,
Or lost thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings–yet–the dead are there,
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep–the dead reign there alone.–
So shalt thou rest–and what if thou shalt fall
Unnoticed by the living–and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh,
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come,
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid,
The bow’d with age, the infant in the smiles
And beauty of its innocent age cut off,–
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustain’d and sooth’d
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

In the 8th grade we had to write epitaphs for ourselves. Mine was:

Here lies miftik
Six feet underground
Just like Laura Palmer
Whose killer was never found

I remember there was a girl named Laura in my class and she was completely freaked out about it. Obviously, I was the only one who watched Twin Peaks in my class.

Dad’s shop is fine. We restocked the stuff we had put away. If anything, his place got a good cleaning yesterday and today! Of course the dust and what not kicked off a major migraine that is only now starting to go away.

Hopefully that will be the last of the hurricane related entries, but I can’t say for certain. It is still windy and we saw lots of fire trucks on our way home. I could have more to blab about later. 😀