Mental Health Day

Work has been hectic? How hectic? Hectic enough that I have been told to TAKE A DAY OFF! As if on cue, the Demons of IT decided to demand payment for this generosity by eating our work inbound mail. I spent two days wrestling with the Mothership to get it back, and other coworkers leaped in to answer the resulting backlog.

I have resolved that today will not be wasted staring numbly at the walls, or falling asleep on the couch. This has been a soul-sucking winter, and I cannot let it win. There are so many little things I could do that would remove tiny hurdles that make my day-to-day life incrementally more difficult. Getting rid of them would make my days incrementally better. It is within my ability. ;)

This positive outlook was launched by the adoption of Sir Morgan. Yes, the sweet and Pudgie One found a home, and someone is home all day! So he will have more affection than he will know what to do with. Now if only Tiger Tom could find a similar home. It is good to see Sir Morgan's cage empty. I was going to move Portia upstairs (the black cat who was recently abandoned here), but frankly I think she would rather have all of the first floor to herself and come upstairs for periodic visits, than be caged for half the day upstairs. I'm thinking about moving Coyote downstairs to be with Portia (the black cat the was abandoned before Portia appeared), because it's clear that she doesn't enjoy sharing space with a colony of cats. She's thriving (glossy and fat!) but she's not the laid-back affectionate cat she had been, and I think she would get more adoption notice downstairs as well.

The weather has been brutally cold. We get an occasional sunny day in the 30s, but our days of "thaw" have been limited to one 50-degree day, which is atypical for a NY winter. Normally we get a good 3-5 days of freakishly warm weather some time in January or February. Not this year.

I'd best not waste too much time blogging until I actually have something to blog.

PostNote 10:47 am: After cleaning the cat facility, I left Portia loose upstairs with Coyote, Morgaine, and Gawain. I'd like to get Portia and Coyote used to one another, then Coyote can move downstairs once the weather is warmer and they can greet visitors and hopefully get "first dibs" on folks who would take an adult cat. It's so hard to be a black cat--even a black cat with gorgeous copper eyes like Coyote or the perfect affectionate soul like Portia's.

I am now making cinnamon rolls. Don't get impressed--they are the Pillsbury pop-up type.

Three-day weekend--and trying not to waste it

Note: I put this in "draft" and never completed it. Sigh.

I think anyone who lives in a snowbound state will admit that February is a pretty lousy month. There is always that hope that winter will miraculously melt away and not come back. Reality, however, keeps knocking, with repeat snowstorms and harsh winds--often the day after a rare gorgeous day in the 50s.

Like today. The harsh day, I mean, after the beautiful warm day.

Not the warm day. That of course fell on a Friday, when most folks are working and wishing they weren't working.

When you work from home, owning a dog is rather like being a smoker who works in an office building. You get free breaks. For some reason, an instant message that "I have to clean the cat box" ("why don't you wait until after work to clean it?") doesn't have the same get-out-of-jail-free impact of "Walking the dog, brb!" You don't have to ASK to walk the dog. You just announce it in IM, and go.

Should I ever part with Molly, I don't think I'll tell anyone she has been adopted into a family with three dog-loving children. I'll still announce "Walking the dog!" and then go cuddle with my cats for fifteen minutes instead. ;)

To be a cat-owner working from home is rather like being an overworked non-smoker at the office, enviously watching those smokers pick up their pack and say "Be just a sec!" on a beautiful sunny day.

Creative fundraising: The Syracuse Symphony Orchestra

Sometimes you have to pack the old "woe-is-me" away in a box and realize other people have bigger monsters looming. For my sister Linda, this monster is the financial need of the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra, which is on the verge of going under. Linda plays piccolo and flute for the SSO.

The symphony has always been a part of my life. All members of my immediate family played instruments when we were young, and I think Linda embodies all of our dreams. There are those who continue playing--and there are more who do not. But we dream of having done so, we embrace and admire those who have.

There were many years it seemed the only time Linda and I ever had a chance to get together was when she was playing in a concert for the SSO or the Society for New Music, and we would rendezvous afterward. Symphony positions are not easy to get. There is only one piccolo. It's not like, if you lose your job, you can just put your resume out on syracusehelpwanted.com It means auditioning (and investing in travel) all over the U.S. should a position open up. It means competing against other incredible musicians who are also fervently seeking the position (Auditions are blind--the judges do not see who is playing, so unlike the Presidency, a pretty face or good interview clothes get you nowhere). It means selling everything you have and moving should you be fortunate enough to get the position. IF you get a position.

You don't make a ton of money in a small-city symphony. You are certainly already doing other things--teaching privately, at local colleges, playing part-time with other orchestras or ensembles--to make ends meet. This all requires incredible organizational and time-management skills, and a damned good car. Not to mention instruments! You don't buy a clarinet in college and play the same one your entire life. No, there will be the progressive moving-up-steps to better instruments (and multiple instruments). There will be wear and damage. There can be theft. It's not a cheap profession by any means.

And then there is the insurance--or rather, the lack of it. As a musician, if you are not lucky enough to have a full-time symphony or college or school position, you are not insured and must pay for this yourself.You will also fall apart a bit. You will sit a lot. Stand a lot. Your hands will suffer from repetitive movements. If you have a toothache and your instrument is a wind instrument, you are in trouble.

The SSO rolled out a "Keep The Music Playing" fund-raising campaign, and have so far have been met their first goal. But it is a huge set of goals. Local businesses have been stepping up with special events and fundraisers (something I hope continues even beyond the campaign--who doesn't want to dress up and socialize before a weekend concert?).

Linda has always been supportive of my work. She adopted two cats from me. She has pitched in for work weekends, and basically has helped keep me sane. When the SSO said "We need money" I went over to their web site and made a donation. It was a drop in the bucket when compared to the need.

When you aren't in a position to give a huge donation to a campaign, one thing you can do that is VITAL--is be a "body." Seriously. If an organization can show photos of a full house at an event, or market "buzz" on the web (generating news articles and keeping the campaign before the public) or say "XX people attended"--someone else will give another donation because they know they are supporting something their community cares about. While the $25 to participate in small events doesn't seem like much, when you multiply it by 100 attendees (bring a friend!) it becomes a sizeable donation. I try to be a "body" when I can. When you are a participant, you almost always get some benefit in return. A meal, the company of other like-minded people you never would have met...

or a tattoo.

The SSO put on Facebook that BioGraphix Tattoo Studio would offer music-themed tattoos for a mere $25 with 100% of the proceeds going to the SSO.

I mentioned to Linda that I was going to come to Syracuse to get one. Linda mentioned this to an SSO marketing person. The SSO marketing person said "Wouldn't it be great if one of our musicians would get one!" Linda said "I will!" Then I got an email from her with the subject line "It's all your fault!"

Now Linda is "inked."

(photo from the Post-Standard)

I wasn't able to get free  to join her on Wednesday, but this Saturday I did the morning chores and drove out to Syracuse. Mike, the owner, talked about the other successful fundraisers they have had for autism, cancer, and now the SSO. He and other artists also talked about their children and their musical talents. These guys LOVED their kids. They positively beamed when talking about them. Mike said the fundraiser has been very popular so far, and that one day there were ten people waiting when he arrived. The whole hope, of course, is that people will give a bit more than $25 for their tattoo (I did) and tell others.

So here I am, telling! Maybe a tattoo isn't your style. There will be a lot of future events to choose from. Look around your own community for your own art organizations, historical societies, and other cultural organizations. How many times have you thought "Oh, I should go to that...but maybe next time?"

Perhaps you'll discover, tomorrow, that there are no more "next times."

Linda's is the classic black tattoo with the treble clef and eighth notes (very "piccolo" I thought). When she arrived to see me getting a pair of bass clefs she joked: "Mandolin...Not exactly bass?" I replied that it wasn't likely I'd ever be a good enough mandolin player to make a distinction. I made my choice entirely on the pretty factor. (Apologies for blinding you with our winter-white legs!)

We then navigated the huge Syracuse snowbanks to a local watering hole, where we drank, ate, laughed and had a wonderful time, enjoying a rare evening of brightness in a long and dreary winter.

After we stopped by her house to feed the cats, of course.

I'm happy to look down at my ankle the rest of my life to smile and think of my sister. Let's hope the music never stops playing.

Things I've been meaning to do...house history

About five years ago (or more) Mark and I found our way down to the Spencer Historical Society (no web page). The volunteer docent on duty took us to their records room and looked up photos and information on our house and the Ferris family who lived here. Woodbridge Ferris was born here.

The docent, who I am fairly certain was also an officer of the Society, said we could have copies for cost. We did not expect them to deliver them right to our door, which they did. We gave them an extra few dollars and also became members. I've tried to keep up the membership since then.

The photos kicked around in a plastic sleeve and we would pull them out from time to time for visitors. One day we got concerned that we might bend or accidentally spill something on them, so we filed them "some place safe," meaning to one day frame them and hang them up. We filed them so safely I was never able to find them again.

Yesterday I was digging through files, getting ready to box some up, when the pile slid over on its side and the sleeve fell out and I snatched them up and scanned them for safekeeping. Later, I was in Ithaca, and went wandering through the Dollar Store. As I passed through the frame aisle, my eyes fell on a frame that, for a mere buck, fit the "feel" of the photos perfectly. Before the photos could turn into yet one more task that I put off, I bought two frames, brought them home, and put the photos up on the wall.

The raccoon photo was given to me by a wonderful older couple in Groton when I was first starting out in wildlife control. They had raccoons living under their bathtub, coming in from under their porch. In addition to paying me, the gentleman gave me the raccoon photo (taken by trip-wire at South Lake in the Adirondacks in the early 1900's), an old oil lamp, and a potted spruce tree which, sadly, did not survive transplanting in the spring.

I put the family kitchen things mom had recently given me up on the shelf since they seemed to fit the theme. I think I'll frame up some other photos of old houses I've lived in and prop them on the shelf as well.

Here is my house now. Well, in warmer times, that is.

The lilac by the gate in the buggy photo is still here, along with the hole for the gate post. I think next spring I'll pound a new post into that hole. Maybe I'll top it with a solar light and a little brass plaque about the lilac and this place. I'd love to get a NYS historical sign announcing the old Ferris Farm as the birthplace of Woodbridge Ferris, but I can't afford $895. Maybe when I retire. ;)

Insta-food for singles

For a long while I have lamented the fact that frozen and canned food, for the most part, does not come in single-serving sizes. If you buy a frozen bag of broccoli, for example, you better find a way to use all that broccoli in about two weeks, before it starts to get freezer burned and just a little bit stale tasting. Chances are, you may forget about it for a month or more, open it up, look at all the ice crystals, and toss it (unless soup is the intended use).

I often work overtime. I'm supposed to get off at 6:00 pm, and that seldom happens. If I finally shut the computer at 7:30, and the cats also need care, and my  house needs cleaning, chances are good I'm not into cooking for a half-hour and washing dishes after. That's when I tend to rummage around for something I can open up, warm up, and eat. Three-quarters of the time, I end up eating half of it, and throwing out food that won't taste so great as a leftover.

It has always peeved me that I could not find spaghetti sauce in small jars or cans. There is nothing more depressing when you've spent half your life using a whole jar to serve two people, to now pour half into your saucepan and put the other half in refrigerator. "Hi!" it says. "By the way, you loser, that guy you thought loved you, well, he's not here any more! He would have been eating this!" 

Food should keep it's mouth shut.

Historically, single-serve food has come wrapped in so much trash, eating it is depressing. Here is your little frozen dinner, and over there is all the crap you are throwing out that it came in. I don't need plastic and paper containers to cook out of and eat out of.  I own pots and plates, thank you.

Happiness, however, has recently crept in. A few months ago, Lean Cuisine came out with single-serve steamable bags with dinners that are, quite frankly, very good. No plastic bowl. No gobs of unidentifiable half melted "stuff."  Well, maybe a little "sauce"--but far less. And less than $3 a dinner. BirdsEye and other brands have done the same. Even the more unhealthful versions (cheese sauce, etc.) at least have vegetables, which is more than you are going to get out of boxed macaroni and cheese or one of those dried rice packages with the bits they call vegetables.

Then last week I discovered that BirdsEye came out with single-serve steamable veggies. Corn, brussels sprouts and the like.  Now I no longer have to open up a whole bag when I only want one dinner. When I warm up canned soup, I can throw in a serving of corn and get yet another serving of veggies in that day. When I make something veggie-less (pasta and sauce), I can cut up a serving of sprouts and roast them in the oven or toss them in the wok if the fresh produce in the refrigerator turns out to be less-than-fresh. No one says you have the steam the things. You can treat them just like regular frozen vegetables. In fact, with the brussels sprouts, I would recommend it.

Hunts, happily, has small cans of tomato sauce! Perhaps they always have, and the stores where I shop have not carried them until now.  Last night I made spaghetti for myself, rinsed out the empty little can to recycle, and banished the damned talking Prego jar forever.

Then there is the insta-comfort food. Pillsbury makes frozen biscuits. Yeah, yeah, I know you purists out there are rolling your eyes and saying "do you know how easy it is to make biscuits?" Yup! And do you know how depressing it is to make a batch, eat three, and then realize two days later you forgot them and now they are not-so-great tasting? If I decide at 10:00 pm that a biscuit and honey would taste quite nice right then, I can put two frozen biscuits in the oven for 25 minutes and they come out tasting better than anything I could ever make. I was sure they would be flat hockey pucks when I purchased by first bag. No one was more surprised than I when they actually tasted like...biscuits.

Checking ingredients on the bags--most of the "dinners" have additives. Some, most notably the plain vegetables, do not. I'm not sure I'd want to live just on this stuff every day, but it's a step up from what I was eating for "busy food."

Also, life can get pretty meaningless if you never really cook fresh food. Cooking is definitely part of the dinner process. Yes, I'm glad that when I'm busy, I'm not now eating some hideous dried thing out of a box that turns back into food with boiling water and a huge hunk of butter (scary!). But I still find that food tastes better when I've chopped up the kale, and sauted it myself.


I'm not sure if I'm just being more observant, or marketers are getting wiser. There are a lot of single folks out there, and things are too expensive to waste. Less packaging, and decent food without too much crap in it.


Nonetheless, I can't wait until spring, when I can just go out back to pick some dinner fixings. No bags involved.