Sick Day

A Turtle Contemplates Life, North Carolina, 2012

I can count the number of days I have been sick enough as to be utterly useless in my whole life on my fingers and still have a few digits left over. Yet here I lie in bed tapping away at my laptop after having effectively spent the whole day in bed.

I've felt generally drained for the past week, although not actually sick other than developing a sore throat within the last couple of days. Then, last night when I got home from work, I was loopy enough to leave the trunk of my car open all night. I have never even left my car unlocked at night, much less open!

I decided to sleep today away, even though I still feel just general fatigue and not sick-sick. So after dropping the car at the mechanic's shop, running to the bank, hanging the laundry and watering the garden, I grabbed a glass of water and passed out, with my ever faithful Piglette snoring right next to me (her foot or leg is hurt, she needs rest, too!). There was a solid three hours of sleep in there, plus another two in semi-sleep, but I still feel drained. Maybe after a good night's sleep I'll be up for work in the morning...

A Chilly Summer day

View from Chepstow

In the summer of 2008, the company I worked for sent me to Bristol, on the west coast of England, to open a new office and initiate business operations there, because we were THIS CLOSE to obtaining funding. Three months later, I closed the office. Such is the fickleness of start-ups and venture capitalists.

Workaholic that I was, I put in 10 to 12-hour workdays, and often worked 7 days a week. Other than lounging in the lavender steam room and various pools at the Thermae Bath Spa, and a couple of side trips over extended weekends, I didn't get out much. So it came to pass, that the CEO took it upon himself to make me get out for at least one sightseeing trip before I headed back home. We were heading across the bridge to watch whales.

"I love whales, they're so pretty!"

"Not whales, Wales!"

"Yes, exactly."

That's the thing about homophones, isn't it? When you're speaking, you can't tell the difference without context.

View from Caerphilli, low tide

Early one Saturday morning, the CEO, two interns and I squeezed into a car, crossed the bridge and ended up in Yugoslavia. Or so you'd think, because there were suddenly fewer vowels on the street signs. A few miles on was a huge, stone fortress perched high atop a cliff over a river that met the one we'd just crossed, Cas-gwent (Chepstow in English). Several miles south, we ran into another fortification of Norman design, this one with concentric walls. Caerfilli (Caerphilly in English, the only Welsh word I saw that seemed similar to its English translation).

Toodling through the ruins of both fortresses, reading about the military history of the Normans and their conquests and defeats, I couldn't help but think that in this day and age, these massive stone walls in a cool and slightly humid climate would make fantastic wine caves. And they'd be easy to defend!

Just as I was dreaming of my wine cave, some crazy little yellow guy ran into me full force, knocking me down! When my boss tried to pull him off me, the guy hauled off and punched him. Then he knocked down the interns, too, for good measure, before running off and screaming something about lousy 'Murcans. 

"Whoah, was that a banana?"

"Don't be silly, bananas are inanimate, and they wouln't grow in Wales, anyway." 

"Hey, my wallet's missing!"

"Mine, too!"

And that, my friends, is how I, my boss and the two interns, were robbed by an angry little Welsh banana. Pokey Banana has denied all culpability, claiming that area is too far south of his home territory, but he has no alibi for that day...

N.B.: for those who don't know Pokey, he is one of my blogging friends from another site who masquerades as an angry banana.

The Dog (and Cat) Days of Summer

Piglette enjoying the sunshine

... have not yet arrived here in the SF Bay area. Granted, given our latitude and proximity to the sea, temperatures rarely reach extremes, but we usually have an "Indian Summer" around late August/early September. This summer has seemed cooler than in the past. I wear sweaters and long sleeves more often, and heat-loving tomatoes don't seem to be flourishing as they once did.

The veggie garden

Actually, the tomatoes are downright sad. By now, the plants are usually starting to outgrow and tip over their cages, so I have to jerryrig extra support for them. This year? The little yellow pear has two wimpy branches, one of which shot out a dozen sad fruits early on and then turned brown. The glacier has halfway filled a small size cage and is producing a fair number of golden fruits for its size. The paste tomato plant is doing better in size, but the stink bugs went nuts and there's not enough tomato left to eat after cutting away the damaged bits. The paste tomato issue may have more to do with the fact that I have swiss chard running rampant in the garden for the bugs to hide out in, than the weather, but it could be a contributor, somehow.

Gigi thrives in all conditions

Beyond the tomatoes, the bell peppers and summer squash are, as my housemate says, lilliputian. The basil is yellow. And the cucumber plant is a single, tiny vine that has produced only one actual cucumber and three flowers so far.

On the bright side, cooler weather means I don't sweat much riding my bicycle to the accounting gig. Sweat means sticky clothing, even if you change once you get there!

Still, I am hoping for a few nice, warm days here before the coolness of autumn hits.

Planning for the Future

I have been thinking a lot lately about the state of the average American... or the median American... because that person is in a worse position than she was twenty years ago. I was extremely lucky to have paranoid parents who told me I couldn't rely on anyone but myself when it came to securing my future, and started a nest egg for me when I was still a kid, and then an IRA as soon as my wages at their little retail pharmacy were high enough... and forbade me to touch either until I was retired!

Most people are not as lucky as I was, though. According to the 2012 Retirement confidence survey, http://www.ebri.org/surveys/rcs/2012/ 30% of workers have saved less than $1000 for their future, and only 81% of workers with retirement savings plans available to them through their employers actually participate. Since I doubt that 30% of workers are in their first few years in the workforce, those are daunting figures when we consider that Social Security alone isn't enough to get by on even now, and is not guaranteed to exist when I retire, even though it eats up a significant portion of my income (I'm self-employed, so pay more than double the tax). I have friends who have not been able to save and am sure there are others I think are doing okay based on their lifestyles, but who just haven't thought about their futures. So, I thought I'd post some links here that might help with forward thinking.

The Department of the Treasury links to some helpful tools at http://www.choosetosave.org/ including an interactive estimator that helps determine how much you'll need to save based on what you think your needs are http://www.choosetosave.org/ballpark/ (caveat: skip the calculator if seeing how much you need to save will just make you feel sick and hopeless) and a debt management calculator http://www.mindyourfinances.com/calculators/debt-management

Not to be outdone, the Deparment of Labor also has some generic (but useful) suggestions for saving for retirement http://www.dol.gov/ebsa/publications/10_ways_to_prepare.html

For those of you who know me just a little too well, don't laugh when I say that Martha Stewart has what is perhaps an over-simplified, but nonetheless easy-to-use budgeting tool http://images.wholeliving.com/images/content/web/pdfs/2009Q2/bs_0509_expensesworksheet.pdf I think this worksheet can actually be pretty helpful for those of us who do not think about where our money goes. She mentions using credit card statements as reference, but don't forget your bank account and cash. You don't have to account for all cash outlays, just pay attention to how much you take out and book it towards personal or entertainment.

Alternatively, there's always the "pay yourself first" method for those who are free and clear of debt. When you get paid, transfer a set amount or percentage to a separate account that you don't withdraw from. If at the end of the month, you didn't notice any change in your lifestyle from before, you'll probably be okay socking away a little more the next month.

I hope these links are helpful. At the very least, I hope that this post spurs someone who hasn't thought about their future yet into thinking about it.

edit:  Forgot to mention Credit Unions! Unless you make a lot of international transactions, credit unions are often a better choice than commercial banks, primarily because both their borrowing and lending rates tend to be better than banks. They are non-profit entities whose clients are all members, each with a single vote.

Operation Eagle Visit

During the Vietnam era, my hometown adopted A Company, 1st Battalion, 327th Infantry Regiment, 1st Brigade, 101st Airborne Division, the Screaming Eagles, and, according to the free daily newsrag here, was the only town in the country to hold a parade for returning Vietnam vets in 1972. So today (yesterday, now), the town did a repeat performance for the original parade's 40th anniversary.

Being civic-minded (if activity in those neighborhood groups that give the city council a hard time counts) citizens, and hearing that there was going to be food, Piglette and I strolled downtown to take in the festivities. However, being somewhat late risers, we missed half the parade. We did arrive just in time for Piglette to see horses, though.

And she also got to see the contingency from the local animal shelter. She went nuts for the horses, barking up a storm, and then tried to walk out into the street to greet the dogs. A lot of the day's photos were taken while pulling her back from something.

We arrived at the park, where the post-parade activities were held, just in time to watch them roll up the flag.

It could be my age talking (the older I get, the younger other people look), and you can't tell from this photo, but what struck me about these young men and women is that they are not far from being kids.My perception of what I think a soldier looks like has been skewed by the 30 and 40-something actors who portray them in films. It is sobering to realize that real soldiers resemble the kids playing in my neighbor's yard more than they do middle-aged actors.

It was even more sobering to see the never-ending line for the food. Fortunately, the beer line was short and it was only $5.00 for a Sierra Nevada pale ale! And, the food truck was a clever modified fire truck design, manned by local firefighters.

Piglette and I walked around the park, looking at the booths, greeting ALL the other dogs, watching the entertainment -- the local taiko group, a banjo band, a cover band -- and shaking hands with soldiers. Well, I shook hands, Piglette got a lot of rubs and stories about pets they had back home.

And with the thought of home, Piglette and I headed back to our own, sauntering the long way through downtown, stopping at our favorite places on the way, like Three Bs coffee, where they put smiley faces in my cappuccino and Wisnom's Hardware, where the ladies always have dog biscuits for Piglette, and Donut Delite, where they put extra donuts in my bag. It was a good day to appreciate everyone who makes our lives a little better in their own way. In particular, I appreciate that guy who still loves me, even though I can be broody and sometimes have anger issues and occasionally yell... just occasionally.

The story of how San Mateo came to adopt the Screaming Eagles is a bittersweet one. Sgt Joe Artavia wrote to his sister, Linda, asking if she could convince one of the local cities to adopt his unit. She had his request fulfilled, but two months later, her brother was killed in action. Linda went on to form America Supporting Americans, which works to match sponsors to units.