May 27, 2014

Well…the day I’ve been waiting for is finally here.

Travel today.

Interview tomorrow.

Nervous?

Not yet.

Mom’s advice: “Just be yourself.”

Of course, Mom, that’s who I am.  Me.

I know what she means.

Almost a year of unemployment has reinforced that lesson in many ways.

I’ve had just a slightly rough start on my way.

I missed the airport exit off the highway.

I realized it, just as I passed it.  I had been looking for the airport sign, but I’m not sure now that one exists.

It’s the back way into the airport, not through the city.

The one I’ve taken alone and with family probably a hundred times.

I remembered pointing out the colorful water tower (that marks that exit) to Harry on one of our family pilgrimages to Costco.

I looked for the next exit and made plans to just turn right back around, onto the highway and head back to the exit I knew.

I’d given myself more than an hour of leeway.

Sometimes instincts are well served.

I toyed, momentarily, with the idea of going through the city.

There were signs indicating the airport route. But I dismissed that idea within seconds, running mini scenarios through my head of being delayed by unexpected things.

More unexpected things.

Best to go the route that I was familiar with.

So…first exit, back around onto the highway and exit Hwy 51.

I’d forgotten how close to the airport that route really was until a huge jet zoomed loudly (and very low) over my head and quickly touched down, landing on the runway just to the left.

The back door to the airport winds past Dan’s Taxidermy, Camperland RV (where I saw a couple at the entrance, locked in a long embrace), and a fresh honey stand.  A quick left just past the North District Police Station onto Darwin Road and you find yourself at the airport and are quickly directed to the choice of economy or regular parking.

Again experiencing a bit of uncharacteristic indecision, I turned toward economy parking, but soon redirected myself to another U-turn and proceeded closer to the airport, choosing the $10/day parking option.

After all, I’ll be back in WI tomorrow night.

A quick check-in presented one point of curiosity. 

The kiosk wouldn’t allow me to choose a seat for my connecting flight. The screen displayed this warning: This flight may have been overbooked.  Please check in at the terminal.

Another moment of discomfort.

I checked with the desk. The woman behind the counter kept averting her eyes when she tried over and over again to explain what that might mean and finally she settled on: “They just want you to purchase a seat upgrade.  You can check in at the gate when you get there.”

I had just paid $12 to upgrade my seat from Madison to Chicago. I hate flying in the back of the plane (my seat assignment 22A), so I paid $12 to sit in seat 3A.

It was an investment in comfort.

I wasn’t sitting in the gate area for even 5 minutes when an announcement came across the address system.

“Anyone who is going to Chicago, does not have any checked baggage and wants to take an earlier flight, please check in at Gate 6. 

I was at Gate 5.

I quickly gathered my things and made straight for Gate 6.

Then…I hesitated.

Maybe I should just follow the original plan, I thought.

I slowed my pace and took a seat to check my ticket and flight times again.

Yes.  I will just stick with the original plan.

I hadn’t been back in my seat at Gate 5 for even two minutes when another announcement was made.

This one cancelled my flight to Chicago. The one with the upgraded seat.

The announcement went on to say that the new, available flight would arrive in Chicago after 8 p.m.

My connecting flight for DC left Chicago at 7 p.m.

The tiniest bit of panic set in.

Stay calm and just breathe.

The next announcement called for passengers on that cancelled United flight to come to the desk for rebooking.

I stood patiently behind the first woman in line.

Patiently and quietly behind the first woman in line.

For just a moment, I thought about how I should have taken that announced flight, how I should have just gotten on that plane and I would be on my way by now…

I shook my head to myself. Even sighed out loud.

Then I stopped.

Out of my control.

Focus on the task of getting to DC.

A  young woman who I had first encountered at the original United check-in counter (pre-security) was on the phone quickly to her mother, explaining the delay.

When she had arrived at the United counter for check-in, she had flopped three huge, packed bags onto the scales, saying she had just packed everything up and left her apartment for good.  She was on her way to New York City.

Her bags were well over 50 pounds each, which required a substantial fee, the woman behind the counter explained.

The young woman protested…substantially.

An explanation of the fees followed:  $25 for the first bag, $35 for the second bag and $100 for an overweight bag.

“Seriously?” the young woman said loudly.

I lost interest in the drama and went back to my own check-in process.

The young woman now spoke loudly on her cell phone, “Mother, you are not listening to what I am saying.  Listen to what I just said... My flight was just cancelled. I don’t know what to do. I won’t make my connection in Chicago.”

She continued the explanation, obviously annoyed and adding, “O.K., you just don’t get it.  Goodbye.”

And she hung up…on her Mother.

The thing is…they were going to put her on another flight, routing her straight to New York.

She just had to be a little bit patient.

Just a little bit.

Problem solved.

Drama over. 

Again.

Anyway, I was rebooked on a Delta flight that was actually in the boarding process, just 5 gates away.

I stepped lively down to the new gate and got my seat assignment.

It was a direct flight to DC.  I frankly did not even know that there was such a thing from Madison, WI.

The plane boarded and we left the gate.

We taxied out onto the runway, but quickly pulled over to the side of the taxiway.

An announcement.

“Because of the weather in and around DC and actually the weather between here and there,” Captain Jose explained. “We have been asked to sit tight here for a little while.”

A “little while” was about 30 minutes.

Talk about emotional starts and stops!

I reminded myself that delays like that are made for safety reasons and are most assuredly out of my control.

Breathe.

Take off was a little wobbly.

Getting to cruising altitude a little rough.

The flight so far…is fine.

Although, I have been doing a lot of praying.

I always pray on flights.

Helps me to feel more…at peace.

I’ll just say one more quick one for Captain Jose’s skill set and that will be it.

…until we start our descent.

Then, just another…little…quick one.

I’ll be really happy to be on the ground again.

One step closer.

Interview starts in the morning.

Need to be in the lobby at the security desk at 9:45 a.m.

I haven’t worn high heels for a year…should be fun!

Wish me luck...and maybe say a little…quick…prayer?

Flying around the weather.

…..

Oh, my, my, my, that was a bumpy ride.

Captain Jose announced that the weather cell that we had been dodging all along was now centered over Reagan National, forcing us to spend some time “leisurely enjoying the southern Maryland landscape.”

When we were cleared to approach and land…well…it was bumpy.

There was lightning just beyond the left wing.

There was lightning just beyond the right wing.

We were pushed to the left.

We were pushed to the right.

We were raised and then dropped by the air pockets.

Did I mention it was bumpy?

Anyway…safe on the ground, we stopped just short of the gate.

Another communication from Captain Jose.

Seems that the ground crew could not extend the gateway to the plane because of the lightning.

It just wouldn't be safe.

We sat for another 10 minutes and then were allowed to finish our arrival and approach to the gateway.

Very happy to be on solid ground again.

Very happy.

May 20, 2014

Well…I did it.

I sent another email to the person interviewing (and hiring) for the open position at what I have always described as my “dream job.”

The last email I sent accompanied my formal application to the position in very early April.

It’s where I have wanted to work since I was a senior in high school.

I don’t really understand why I wouldn’t be considered…contacted…and even interviewed?

Frustrating.

This whole process is frustrating.

I did actually interview for the same position less than 3 years ago and by all accounts, I was a real contender.

I know that there is a great deal of pressure on organizations to find the “secret formula” for a traditional print product to succeed and thrive in its online iterations.  

Malleable 24/7.

I just hope that desire…actually; mandate…does not translate to always looking toward the media professionals with concentrated online experience.

What I’m trying to say is that I have extensive experience on both sides of that complicated equation.

While I have spent the majority of my career on the print side, I have learned, along with everyone else, how important it is to translate ALL your skills to multimedia with an eye toward innovation and creativity. 

And, for it to be ever-present in your brain.

That is, if you want to continue to be successful in the current “mobile-obsessed” culture.

The speeding train coming straight down the track is all about mobility, and in getting what you want, when you want it, usually on your smartphone.

I don’t want to be overlooked (or frankly run over by the train) for something that I know I am extremely qualified for...and capable of...because I come from what has taken on the unfortunate nomenclature of “traditional media.”

Ugh.

And, of course, I am counting the days…the hours…the minutes…until my interview next week.

The third and final interview.

And then…some kind of resolution.

…..

I decided that it might be a good idea to try and take advantage (on this beautiful sunshiny day) of Mom’s back deck (also known as Harry’s ship) by taking my laptop outside to write emails, review job postings and to write this post.

There were a few small challenges to overcome for that to happen.

My MacBook Pro was at a 28% charge, so I had to find some extension cords that I could run from an outlet in the kitchen, out the hallway door, down the 4 stairs, out the back door, across an area measuring about 12 feet, up the three stairs to the deck and to the far side where I had set up the picnic table, benches and two chairs...finally connecting the power to my computer.

Then there were the gnats.

Ugh.

Not a lot of them, just a few bothersome ones. 

They flit around my eyes and face and make a considerable nuisance of themselves.

Just enough to be extremely annoying.

I’d read this before…on Google. 

Vanilla extract. 

Apparently gnats do not like vanilla extract.

A little dab...

Dab some on a cotton ball; apply it to your cheeks and around your brow and your ear lobes. 

One entry on Google reads: 

        A little elderly man told me this and I was skeptical. 

        Everyone I tell is skeptical, but I’m the only one at the outdoor party without gnats. 

        I put some on a cotton ball and rub it on my cheeks and neck. 

        It works for thirty minutes or so.

It does work.

So…gnat-free I’m enjoying the light breeze, the shade of the umbrella, the buzzing of the bees around the apple blossoms, the tweeting and twittering of all the birds, the distant sound of a Woodpecker on an old hollow tree…and just being outside.

Oh...and I almost forgot...the consistent "eeeeehh" sound of the mole chaser at work.

Honey bees buzzing around the apple blossoms.

Yesterday, I continued our ongoing project of the beautification of Mom's yard, by raking the area in the back yard under the old clothesline.

There were so many branches and twigs and sticks and cut berry bushes that it would have taken an eternity to pick them up one by one, so I got the little delicate rake and raked the area, hauling the sticks and other refuse by wheelbarrow into the woods behind.

I was careful to take notice of what were weeds and what were flowers or ferns, trying to pull up all the surrounding Nettles.

The scientific name of Nettle comes from the Latin uro ("I burn") an apt description of the result of handling the leaves or stems of that nuisance of a plant. The downy hairs that cover those leaves and stems are actually hollow tubes through which a severe irritant is injected. 

The result of touching one can be a real stinging sensation and pretty unpleasant at that.

On one of my forays into the woods to dump the contents of the wheelbarrow, I came across a snake.  

Thankfully, it was a little snake.

I chased it around the woods with my iPhone for a solid five minutes trying to get a picture of it that would show a sense of scale and size.

I had left my phone on the deck, abandoned the wheelbarrow to mark the spot where I’d seen the little slithery being, and hoped that it would be somewhere near there when I returned to record it’s presence.

It was just where I’d left it.

Mother Nature’s natural disguise didn't exactly work flawlessly as I pursued the snake through the leaves and underbrush where it tried over and over to escape my pursuit. 

The little snake.

Later that night Mom looked it up in…yes, of course…Reader’s Digest North American Wildlife, An Illustrated Guide to 2,000 Plants and Animals.

We determined it to be a Pine Snake.

Pine Snake, Bullsnake or Gopher Snake. According to our fabulous guide:

All these names refer to the same species, a powerful constrictor that seeks out rodents in their burrows and occasionally climbs trees in search of birds and eggs. 

Ugh.

Our flawless guide to the creatures you encounter,
while living in the country.

When Mom arrived home, I could tell from her reaction to seeing my handy work when I showed her what I had done, that she really didn’t want to tell me that I shouldn’t have, because of all the hard work. 

I know that she wanted to say that it probably would have been best to leave the ground cover of leaves and twigs just where it was.

It would help to retain the moisture for the scattered ferns and Jack-in-the-pulpits that I had uncovered.

It was extremely dry last summer and anything that would help the natural growth retain moisture right now is a good thing.  

Exposing the soil is not.

Especially since we don’t know what this summer will bring in rainfall.

Her complete silence was the answer to my question, “Should I not have raked it like that?”

When I repeated the question, begging for an answer, she replied, “Well, I don’t know. It might just get too dry now without the leaves...”

That little voice. 

The one that talks to you sometimes while you are in the midst of doing something that you aren’t really one hundred percent certain about in the first place?

Well…that little voice had said just that to me.  “Maybe it’s best not to clear the ground of all this natural insulation…”

If only I had listened.

Ugh.

Under Mom's garden hat for yard work on a sunny day.

May 19, 2014

Too expensive to travel on Memorial Day.

New date is May 27.  

Travel on Tuesday.  Interview on Wednesday.  Travel back Wednesday night.

I've waited all this time, but now I find myself getting anxious.

Restless. 

Impatient even.

I just want to get there. 

I just want to meet everyone. Get a feel for the place. 

Get an offer and then decide.

I want to get back to work.  I need to get back to work.

Yard work and home repairs are fine to keep me busy, but it's just being busy.

I like seeing what I’ve accomplished around the house for Mom and there is a feeling of satisfaction as well. 

I am SO glad that I could be around to help her with small repairs around the house and in tackling some things in the yard; like trimming trees, weeding and mulching and even the mole eradication project (which is still, by the way, in the early phases. The moles presence still evident daily)

I just need to be back doing something that feels like I’m contributing my real skill set.

The skill set for which I was educated and trained and have decades of experience doing.

The skill set at which I have excelled.

And since I work in visual Media, I want to be contributing to influence minds and educate viewers and readers and listeners. 

To move them to action and impact their daily existence with what they see…with what I have a hand in showing them.

As cliche or corny as it might sound...to make a difference in a way that I know how to make a difference.

I am close.

I hope.

I pray.

…..

Harry and I started the day by picking some posies (purple and white Violets and Grape Hyacinths). We put them into a small bouquet for Miss Margie. 

The stems were tied together with a Kelly green satin bow.

Today starts Harry’s lessons in the letter 'v’. 

What better v-word on a late spring morning…than Violet?

“Miss Margie will be soooooo surprised,” Harry giggled. 

He hid the small bouquet behind his back. 

We walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell to Miss Margie’s house.

Then we waited.

Harry was smiling from ear to ear his “I’m so excited” smile. He bounced up and down on his tippy toes.

Miss Margie opened the door.  

Harry, unable to wait one minute more, quickly brought the bouquet from behind his back and thrust it upward, handing it to his teacher.

Then…he ran off to play.

…..

The little weather App on my phone says that it’s 55 degrees today.

It does not feel like 55.

It was raining earlier and now it’s just drizzling from time to time.

It is cold.  That kind of bone-chilling cold. 

Miserable.

I went out into the drizzle to pick another bouquet of Violets and Grape Hyacinths for the house…to lift our spirits on a gray (still drizzly) and cold day.

You can smell the fragrant Hyacinths everywhere.

Sigh.

Posies.

The weather, yesterday, was so wonderful.

“Oh, what a beautiful day to be out in the sunshine,” Harry announced to me when we walked outside.

Harry and Grandma and I took the two-wheeled cart out into the big woods to dig up ferns to transplant to the back yard. 

We are planting them (or transplanting them) under the big pine that I trimmed a few weeks ago.

I love ferns. 

They are so amazing in structure and color and well…just everything.

Harry says, “Ferns are Mommy’s favorite.” 

Making the trip in the cart to the back yard.

Still in the BIG woods. 

Still unfurling from its fuzzy beginnings.

We were able to find three distinct kinds of ferns in the big woods, although I know there are many more.

I was in charge of digging them up, capturing as much of the root system and surrounding soil as possible, to make the transplant easier and hopefully, more successful.

Grandma was in charge of taking the fern from the ground and loading it gently into the cart.

Harry was just trying to avoid being pricked and scratched by the prolific, and sometimes ferocious, berry bushes. 

He rode back to the house in the cart with the ferns. 

He said they were “his friends.”

Back in the yard, I was again in charge of the digging.

Mom and I, together, decided where to put the ferns; what kind where, spacing and actual placement. 

I dug the holes (trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to find a spot in the soil that wasn’t a labyrinth of pine roots). 

Grandma transplanted the ferns to their new home.

I spread mulch around the ferns to keep the moisture consistent around them that they will need in order for their roots to grow in the new soil and to grow prosperously where they are now planted.

Grandma finished weeding her Hosta bed. 

She tackled some of the overgrowth in an area that used to be her yard but that had been "taken back" by the woods.  

The Hostas.

She is taking it back again, for the yard.

We discovered some “Jack-in-the-pulpits” along the edge of the lawn where it quickly turns into the woods. Mom originally called them “Johnny-Jump-Ups” but after consulting with my sister, she found an illustration in the Readers Digest North American Wildlife Guide.

The illustration.

That book has been an amazing source for my “living in the country" re-education.

Laura said that Granny Andersen (Mom’s Mom and our Grandmother) had probably called them Johnny Jump Ups.

Jack-in-the-pulpit.

I mowed the lawn.  Set up the picnic table, benches and umbrella on the back deck. 

It’s the same deck that Harry pretends is his “ship.” The same ship that he fishes from with the garden hose and catches “Ooh-ga-las.” What he catches always changes its name, but the ship has sailed steady for weeks.

We accomplished a lot in the yard this weekend.  

Grandma and I were both tired and sore.

There are still many, many things to do...

In the mean time, we are enjoying what we've done.

Mushroom growing on a decayed stump.

Mushroom.

Apple tree about to bloom.