Four Thousand Screaming Kids

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In what is reputed to be an annual affair, there were literally thousands of school children at today’s Cal Women’s Basketball Game. Schools from San Jose south of us to Fairfield on the north (plus several Richmond primary schools), all the Berkeley Elementary Schools, a number from Oakland and (surprisingly to me) a number from both San Francisco and the peninsula. Since they announced all the schools, accompanied by lots more screaming, it was easy to determine who was missing (Albany, Marin, and about 1/2 the private schools).

As is there wasn’t enough noise, it was also Fire Prevention Education Day. Yes, Smokey walking around large as life was a real hit. I didn’t mind all the hints, but demonstrating sirens and fire alarms? That was a bit much.

Did I mention that the game started at 1130 which obviously put it at an excellent time for schools. It wasn’t a great time for the Straw Hat Band. They were out on their annual ski trip. As far as their usual alumni taking over, well, most had to work. I was really impressed that they managed to field about 20 with a bit of rearrangement as to who played what so that the important instruments (percussion & brass) were covered.

For a change, the referring was even handed and quite good. Very few questionable calls, and refs who were strict, The Cal Women’s managed to pull off a win over Washington State. Interesting to note, the Cougars didn’t have one native Washington State player on the team (Portugal, Australia, Israel, Eastern Europe – kind of like the University of Utah).

Timed it perfectly to catch the #65 up the hill to home. George spent the day doing various assorted meetings in San Francisco so he wasn’t home till late. My last missing textbook finally showed up. I thought about studying….

Two Quakes in a Row

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For the second day in a row, the small branch of the Hayward Fault that travels fairly near our house decided to shake a bit. The epicenter was just south of the campus (11.6 km deep), fairly near the tunnel on Hwy 24. The map link covers the whole world, but you can pull up regional maps. Since this is an area through which BART travels, obviously there needed to be a rail inspection. In my mind, this is a good reason for BART to be delayed.

[there are plenty of other reasons why BART becomes delayed. For the moment I will stay off that particular soap-box].

It lead to much discussion around school. And on BART. Mostly people were just glad that nothing serious happened and that they could blithely leave consideration of the potential for disaster sometime in the future.

Rainy Day Market

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Just the title should let you know that once again it was raining. This time in both Berkeley and San Francisco.

Wednesdays are either great or terrible depending on the week and my attitude. Today, I am on the positive side. Only one class which doesn’t start until 0940 giving me both enough time to get to Hastings and an early change to get home. That will change next week when classes kick in at Cal. But I will still have enough time between morning and afternoon to stop at my favorite Burmese Street Food Restaurant in Berkeley for lunch.

Today’s schedule was a bit different. Because of the holiday next Monday, there are classes that will not happen. Since this is essentially a Law School (writ LARGE) there are certain rules and regulations that must be followed. Part of those rules seem to be the number of hours sufficient in a class of a certain number of credits in order to be able to grant that class status. What does all of that mean? Make-up classes. Yep, can’t completely skip, especially if there are two hours of the same class involved which is the case for my International Human Rights Course. So today, after spending a painful hour going through several treaties (UN on various aspects of human rights) we had a break till  noon. There was a presentation scheduled with an invited speaker which was going to count as one of the two hours which will be missed next Monday.

[Of note to me, Cat and maybe a couple of others. Having a network of people around the world is wonderful. When a question came up on one of the treaties as to why Australia was not electing to play, Cat knew where to find the answer. Even more fun, the answer made total and complete sense.)

After all was said and done in the morning (skipping delayed flights leading to a delayed guest speaker) I wandered through the Wednesday Market set up at UN Plaza on my way to BART. I found orange beets, multi-color carrots, fresh spinach, onions and a very interesting version of a citrus fruit which I can’t pronounce.

I skipped running errands with the guys and elected to attempt a reorganization in my studio. By the time I was part way through, it looked worse than when I started, so pictures are being held until I can share the end results.

And it was still raining at the end of the day.

Dragging along

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My first class on Tuesdays is 0830. Just to let you know that up front.

Backing up in time, I have to leave about 40 minutes for BART (safe siding) + about 15 minutes to get to BART, not counting the BART schedule. Then add in whatever amount of time I need at home to run around like mad finding everything, getting dressed and pouring that first cup of coffee down my throat. All of this means that I am up somewhere between 0600 and 0630.

My next official class is 1640 in the afternoon.

Yes, you read that correctly. Between 0930 and 1640 I have nothing official scheduled. Having said that, I am auditing a class at 1420 and another at 1530. It would be insane not to since the two classes (Public Health Law and US Health Law) are interesting and had lectures that conflicted with other courses on my schedule.

I am trying to treat those intervening hours the same way I did back in 1984-5 when I had some similar holes in my MPH schedule at Johns Hopkins. Every hour spent studying/working on assignments/usefully occupied while at school is one less hour out of my precious time at home. Right?

The end summary is that by the time my last class finished at 1840 I am done. Cooked.  Stick a fork in me. All I want to do is go home. I can’t imagine how horrible it is going to be once the baseball season starts and there are Tuesday night games. (2, 16, 23 April). Probably the only way I will survive is by not having to be at UCHastings until 0940 on . Wednesday.

I got home. Skipped dinner in favor of ice cream and went to sleep extremely early.

and today is?

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It was partway through the day when I figured out that one half of the email list was dated correctly and the other half stated it was “19 Jan 2019.” Now obviously that was not true. What was probably worse was that I originally thought that the 13th was the incorrect date.

Something tells me that I was not feeling as well as I would like to have imagined.

It was obviously a slog to get to school. I made in through my two morning classes, the return through BART and was grateful for a pick-up by George. I was going to use the excuse of being completely brain dead as to why I wasn’t really studying for the rest of the day. But really, is knitting a complicated lace something I should be trying in a brain dead situation?

Through Chart E

the left “wing”

I won’t bother to tell you how many corrections I had to make on the return rows to finish the last portion of clue 3. Let us just say that there were a lot of yarn overs and beads involved.

Yep. Gave up. Went to bed with the intention of getting up early….

Wiped-Out

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This year, as apposed to previous years, I have been trying to write fairly early in the day. There was a time when writing at the end of the day was just routine. But that is something that is far easier to accomplish when one is deployed (see 1998, 2003-04, 2005, 2010-2011 –  months within those dates) and there are limited demands on time other than those which are work related. Come to think of it, I should probably add in the mind numbing time (2009-2010) in the UK where, if I hadn’t made some excellent friends, I might have spent my entire off duty time holed up with knitting. – Oh, wait a minute, that is largely what I did!

Anyway – I was in no shape to write this morning. In fact, I am not even sure that I recognized when morning occurred. Remember me mentioning the second Costco run – the one where I picked up a Fast-Trak for Dani? Did I also mention that they had cherries? Normally I only buy cherries in the spring when they are fresh. But Costco had 1 kg containers on sale. They appeared to be the same as all the other cherries I had purchased last spring.

So I bought them.

And ate them yesterday evening. After all, no one in this house expects me to share cherries. They know better. Nothing about them was strange, nothing tasted off. But those self-same cherries revisited me multiple times starting at 0 dark whenever. Since there was absolutely nothing else that I ate, I am blaming the cherries.

I think the last time I felt that awful was ~ 1995 after a trip to Taszar (Hungary) during IFOR. That particular episode was accompanied by fever and chills. (T*40C) and turned out to be a major salmonella outbreak. It was also the last time I ever ate scrambled eggs in a deployed environment.  And since then I have been meticulous about food and drink. Other members of my family have gotten food borne illness since then, but not me. Not norovirus, not anything, not me.

So why was I lucky enough to get sandbagged in my own house? To the tune of ill enough that I actually thought about going into SFVA for hydration?

No clue, but by not sharing my cherries, at least no one else became ill.

Oh, back in that line?

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There were errands planned for early afternoon. They were only supposed to take a couple of hours. College Guy is back from CT and hanging out till school restarts, so he was willing to be the haul and tote person.

We went to Costco. Along with a bijilion and one other people on a Saturday afternoon. Unlike your average grocery store – there are no signs anywhere describing what is down any particular isle. Plus, they keep moving things around. End result? You have to push your cart through the whole store (getting into extra trouble) in order to find the things on your list. Often there isn’t a whole lot of choice, but that choice comes in a supersized container.

Example – go to your local Duane Reader or CVS or Walgreen’s drug store. There are 50 different sizes, brands and styles of tooth brushes, each in its own little package. Not so at Costco. Today there are two brands, each available in soft, medium or hard. That means six choices. Not 50. Since each package has 6-8 toothbrushes you simply won’t have to worry about buying toothbrushes for a few months.

Or laundry detergent for six months. Or tissues (package of eight large boxes) or garbage bags (box of 70) or dog treats for… forget that one – dog treats get scarfed up promptly.

I had a list from the eldest, from daughter #2 (see dog treats mentioned above) plus a two part list I had started. There were those items for the house and the items for UCHastings food pantry. It should not be surprising that there are students with little money once they have paid tuition and found a place to live. This fall, the student support office started a food pantry shelf. A number of us contributed to it regularly. The holidays pretty much had the shelves wiped clean. Costco turns out to be a good source of goodies in bulk (protein bars, jerky packages, rice bowls, ramen, cup-of-soup). I suppose I could use their purchase and ship option, but it is a bit cheaper to buy in the store and schlep myself.

We managed to pack everything in the car, then I went back to ask about buying an additional “Fast-Trak.” Oh – any register.  Argh. There are no express lanes. I looked around, not a check-out lane under 10 long and all with piled high carts.

We stopped at Pet Express instead for kitty litter then dropped off things for the Eldest before heading home and doling out the purchases. The dogs were pleased, beef treats were obviously for them.

I would have stayed home. I could have stayed home. But I couldn’t find my beads. The ones which I had just purchased for the Wild Swan. Out again, this time with Dani riding shotgun. JoAnn’s for the beads. CVS for the floss threaders, Daiso for seaweed snacks. And Costco, again. 15 minutes in line to purchase the Fast-Trak. But this way when Dani makes an airport run tomorrow, we won’t have to turn out everyone’s pockets in order to find enough money for the toll.

Swedish Tourism

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It was about this time last year that I went to Northern Sweden on a photography junket. Put off from the year before (2017) but that is a completely uninteresting story.

 

 

What brought back the memories and a relook at photos was a lovely notice from the Svenska Turistförenningen (Tourist Office in case you hadn’t guessed). They thanked me for my support last year and invited me to renew my membership. Even sent the form for the standard bank giro. Now, I enjoyed my time. Might even do it again. But voluntarily renew for 295kr + 185 kr Porto? Not likely. In case you needed the exchange – that comes to about $53.75 give or take a few cents depending on the exchange rate of the second.

They try to make it easy – I can pay on line by credit card, I can send a bank check. I can wire money. They won’t (any longer) take Euro Checks.

While it is true that the monies help their economy by supporting sustainable mountaineering and other valuable programs, I think I may keep my money a bit closer to home. But I did send them a polite email saying that I won’t be renewing, so please drop my name off their hard copy mailing list to save a few SEK.

What used to be here

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A long time ago – or when I lived in Heidelberg – which may or may not be all that long ago in geological terms I wrote about some of the brass plaques inserted in various sidewalk locations in memory of those who had lived at that location and were taken and killed as part of the Holocaust.

As it turns out, there are plaques with a similar purpose set in the sidewalks here in San Francisco. These don’t relate to the Holocaust (obviously). So far I haven’t found any that relate to much of the California shame of the WWII internments. But what I found on my walk from the Powell Street BART to UC Hastings via various streets in the Tenderloin – was the following:

B’nai Brith arrived in San Francisco in 1855. Started originally to help widows and orphans, nationwide it became a strong supporter of the Anti-Defamation League, Hillel Foundations and BB Youth Organizations.

And here is a link to the California Digital Press Archives from 1897.  The archives are searchable and there are a number of contemporaneous articles on the 1906 Earthquake and the aftermath (1, 2 , 3- which discusses the libraries that were lost in the fire)

In researching more recent times – there were three remaining Lodges in SF which combined in 1997 to one. Of interest is that of those involved was still named the Golden Gate Lodge (see picture above).

In 1999, the official office closed and the organization became completely run by volunteers.

At some point, they even decided to admit women.  (gasp!  I remember the mother of a good friend saying – the men do B’nai Brith, the women do Haddasah. The local chapter likes to bowl, and bowling is just not a Jewish sport, I don’t belong! This was the early 1970s. )

In 2005, the remaining San Francisco lodge celebrated 150 years of activity in San Francisco.

It was at this point I ran out of time following various links down newspaper archives and various other bit-buckets. Something about a couple more classes this afternoon and maybe being prepared?

Wild Swan

now through 94 rows –

The Bay as a barrier

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It most thoroughly was raining when I crept out of the house this morning, down to the car and drove over to North Berkeley BART parking. In fact, I was pretty damp by the time I had dashed the short distance between the back parking lot and the entrance. The only positive thing I was feeling at that point was a bit of relief that there were still a few open seats when I boarded BART.

Disembarking at Civic Center, the sky was overcast but the rain had ceased hours ago. Merchants were setting up for the Wednesday market. The usual overtones of human were absent in the air, instead the scents of coffee and oranges were teasing the nose.

I repeat – it was not raining.

I remember when we lived in Washington DC and experienced the Beltway phenomena. And no, I am not referring to all the bandits (excuse me, contractors) who lurk just outside DC proper just waiting to feed… Rather, I am referring to the influence of the actual physical beltway (think M25 motor way for you UK types) on the weather. It can be raining in DC, you cross under the Beltway on Connecticut Avenue going north and immediately run into a snow storm. The heat of the city plus all those cars create a micro-climate.

I actually made it through to the end of the day without a drop of rain in San Francisco; it would have been nice to have been able to say that as well as I dodged rain drops on my way home.

Doors open at 0700

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I am not sure why I thought that the UCHastings Buildings would be open early in the morning. After all, the school is located right off Civic Center, the UN Plaza and the hotbed of drug sales on Golden Gate Ave. Nope, the doors open at 0700 to both the classroom building (198 McAllister and the main office building – 200 same).

Since I have been bopping in and out now since August, I pretty much know all the morning security guards by both face and name. It was one of them this morning that reminded me that the only building open early (and security desk staffed 24/7 is that of the Towers (AKA dorm area)). OK, I can deal with that. George very kindly waited while I ran into PEET’s for coffee on the way to BART so my caffeination process was already well underway with the addition of a muffin in my backpack for later. I also have knitting – both a cowl I started while on the Rhapsody

~ lace weight gradient

as well as the Wild Swan shawl. And beads. And crochet hook. And pattern. And extra stitch markers.

You see, I have this huge gap in my schedule today, a very late class and a prospective dinner related to the J.P Morgan meeting. Can you spell – long day?

Back to the grind

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Well, classes have started up at Hastings for the “Spring” semester. The only thing remotely spring like is the rain (well, for anywhere else, spring = rain. Here rain = winter). But the weather is just a digression. To put it bluntly, my schedule in this new year sucks. I have two classes on Monday morning at Hastings. On Monday afternoon I need to be at Cal for the Intro to Public Health Infectious Disease course that I am a contributing lecturer. Tues I have one class at 0830 and the next is not until 1420 in the afternoon. Then my last seminar is for two hours starting at 1640. Wednesday is one lecture at 0940 followed by the trip back over to Cal.
Thursday starts with an 0830 lecture, then a seminar at 1420 for a couple of hours. Friday morning is two hours starting at 0940.

To summarize, I have to BART to San Francisco every blinking day. I have huge holes in my schedule. If I am smart, this means time spent in the library and I should have absolutely no need to do much of anything outside of all of those extra hours so kindly furnished me by the scatter shot schedule.

If my original choice of courses had not been cancelled, I would have been done by 1530 on Tues/Thurs and might have avoided that Wednesday morning completely. Argh.

In better nows – I am making progress on Wild Swan

Through Row 78

as this is a gradient yarn, just the first bit of shading from natural to pale blue can now be seen

And more rain

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Nothing like looking at the forecast and seeing rain.

Or, for that matter, looking out the window which just confirms what you already know – it is quite wet out there. There is a strong temptation just to curl up in front of the fireplace with a nice book, blanket. Or audiobook and knitting if I believed for even a minute that it would be possible to knit a complicated lace pattern and do anything else at the same time.

So instead I ran errands, replenished my bead supply (see knitting mentioned above and Wild Swan from a couple of days ago). By the end of the day I had made it to row 69.

The highlight (or not) of the afternoon was getting soaked on my way to the Cal Basketball game (which they managed to not lose).

from the opposite bleachers

and then it was home followed by a late in the dark run to OAK to pick up Noah.

Wild Swan

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For something completely unrelated to all my usual bitch, moans, and whines – knitting!

The Gradient Group on Ravelry is having a knit along (KAL) and the pattern is called Wild Swans. After looking at several of the spoilers, it actually seemed like both a nice shawl pattern and an interesting knit.

Of course I have yarn. I have lots and lots of yarn. So no excuse to buy any more. I also have a significant number of knitting needles in almost every size (which means that I spent almost 30 minutes digging through draws, bags, bins, and boxes till I located exactly the needle that I wanted).

The yarn is from Fierce Fibers which I purchased last fall while in Portland on that American Steamboat cruise with George. The yarn type is Abyss which is a 50/50 merino & silk blend. It is not superwash (duh) in color Midnight Oil at about 645 yds.

 

Abyss Yarn – Midnight Oil

The pattern starts with an I-cord tab. The clues are released on 1, 3, 5, & 12 January with the deadline 15 Feb.

Clue 1 included Chart A

Chart A – 36 rows

Clue 2 includes Charts B, C, & D

Thru Chart B – 42 Rows

Which means that I am now off to tackle Chart 3 after which I will have 48 rows (and 144 stitches on my 3.5mm needle)

Up against the wall

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There we all stand like good little soldiers in a row. Or sailors, airmen,  or marines depending on the individual background. The white woman next to me is fashionably dressed, hair professionally styled, and make-up impeccable. The African American woman next to me on the other side wears a warm down coat, furry trimmed hood tucked closely to her head. There is a white guy in a wheel chair which should prove interesting. I am standing sixth in line, waiting to board the Metro bus headed to the SFVA at 0800 this chilly Friday morning. The diversity in race, age and dress extends behind me as well as forward. This is San Francisco, it is not the white bread of the mid-west.

All together there are 18 of us joining the dozen or so who are already on the bus. The stop prior to ours – the Trans-Bay Terminal picks up riders from Muni, Cal Train, several shuttles and along haul bus or two. The earlier runs are busier. By the time 0800 rolls around, most VA workers are already hard at work.

The elderly vet with the wheelchair carefully hauls himself up the front stairs to the first row of seats while the driver places his chair in one of the lower storage compartments. The young woman with crutches hops up the steps on one leg while keeping a death grip on those same crutches.

From the 5th and Powell stop it is 30 min to the VA. Since I am headed to the Dental Clinic I don’t stop for coffee, donut or muffin no matter how tasty they look. By shortly after 1000 I am at the bus stop waiting for the 38R to get me back to a BART station so that I can work my way hom

Old Friends

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How do I define old friends? Is it those, like Carmen, who I have known since 1968? That is, by number of years, length of time we have known each other? How many years does it have to be before we can consider this use of “old” as valid?

Or do I qualify the phrase by meaning anyone who is older than I? Perhaps that might be a way to consider, but saying “older” friend would probably convey the same information.

Why all of this ruminating?

I am sitting in a rental car, Rose Hill Memorial Cemetery/Mortuary/etc, in Whittier California. Rather than send you to Maps, let me just tell you it is about 20 miles or so from the Long Beach Airport. At 1400 I will be attending a graveside service for an “old” friend.

Pat qualifies on either or both of the above criteria. We first started working together in Germany a significant number of years before. She had an uncanny ability to quietly explain to those who didn’t want to hear why they were going to do things the correct and proper way. Integrity, the ability to bend without compromise and a quiet sense of humor won her the respect of just about all her colleagues and commanders. Those who couldn’t deal? They learned that Pat taking a stand meant she was firm on unassailable grounds. They also learned to appreciate that the words “I told you so” never, ever crossed her lips.

After I was transferred to the UK in 2009 we kept in touch mostly by email. As like many of us, as we both transitioned into a retirement from US Army employment, those plans to get together were delayed by this, that and the other thing. She moved to Switzerland; I was spending a lot of time on ships.

There is always next week, next month, next year. Right?

We ran out of that opportunity the end of last year. She became ill while visiting family in Michigan; I had classes, exams and meetings. By the time I could get free, she was in hospice.

Pat died yesterday morning. As in normal Jewish tradition, we don’t delay burials. LA because her beloved husband, a Holocaust survivor, was buried here in 1997. Her family will sit Shiva, her sons will say Kaddish.

She will reside in my memory.

Entering the New Year

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Never having been one for New Year’s Resolutions (writ large) I bow to any of you who do so and actually manage to use same to improve life, living and relationships by this method.

Long, fancy way of saying – each of us can improve on what we did and who we are in each succeeding day, week, month, and year. It doesn’t need a special start line with someone shooting off fireworks to get us out of our own heads and looking a bit more closely at the world around us.

 

Machine Embroidery

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We will skip that portion of the day which has to do with adding coolant to the car, finding the line at Acme Bakery more than 2 blocks long and quick stops at both Safeway’s Community Market (nee Andronico’s) for a few items and Peet’s for some much needed coffee.

Months ago I accumulated a variety of clothing and other blanks on which I was going to experiment. Adding embellishments and otherwise embarrassing the recipients with my largess. Because, of course, it would be what I wanted to make.

Then I peeked around the door into my studio space and observed chaos. There was no way that I was going to be able to get anything accomplished unless I spent some serious time cleaning up and organizing.

2 hours later, 3 bags of trash and some sorting done, I was ready to start. But for one small issue. My sewing machine informed me that there was a firmware update. Oh, joy. Restart the machine and watch as it downloads, and downloads, and downloads.

But wait! I can still play while it is doing its thing. As I found out, most of the designs on the machine were too large to place on small bibs, so I had to go with bagels and bunnies). For the piece de la resistance, I was going to do a unicorn (see yesterday) for Dani. It is not a small file, nor a few stitches. Rather than place it on a shirt that would not be wanted or appreciated, I took one of the hand towels and decided that would make a good test run.

One long list (26 color changes and an insane amount of converting from Madera threads to the Isacord colors that I have), 39k worth of stitches and it was finished. Good thing that I did the test. She was fine with the towel but didn’t want a shirt or sweatshirt. Not even if I changed the pinks to purples.

But I had a fine time testing out everything.

Now I just have to clean up the mess…. again!

Rolling in

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after midnight, I was more than ready to get some sleep (oh, let’s say…~200).

So why did I wake up at 0430 in the morning?

At least I didn’t have any trouble going back to sleep and staying out cold till close to 1000.

I will not claim that I did anything useful for the rest of the day, other than taking the family out for dinner in late celebration of Dani’s birthday follow by cake at home. The theme was unicorns, candle, hooded blanket and general smiles even after the kettle gave up the ghost for good. Now something else on the list to be replaced. (grouch).

And it was back to bed early.

Seeing a pattern here?

Well, I thought it was

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a bright idea. After all, an hour on the bus has got to be better than 2 ½, right? Easy peasy, I had changed my flight to depart from Orlando, the closer airport. The USO was lovely and welcoming. The terminal is cheerful, shiny, but a bit too Disney. The challenge started when the flight before mine leaving gate 124 had an issue.

The dominos started falling. Because the flight to where-ever was delayed, the inbound plane was diverted to 105, meaning that all of us got to stream from one end of the terminal to another. Plane pulls in. It takes over 30 minutes to unload. By the time we are 70% boarded my 60 minute window for plane change in Austin is down to 10 minutes. Not realistic. Then the stewardess pages me along with another passenger. Sara and I look at each other and shrug as we are “invited” to grab our luggage and get rebooked from here.

So queue another hour in the airport. Did I mention that I have been up for over 12 hours with no end in sight? Thought you had guessed.

New boarding passes in hand along with a credit voucher, I finally board. I don’t miss the two ladies with whom I had chatted in the first boarding area who were more than happy to sit with me. Instead I had the opportunity to sit next to a lovely young man on the way home for the holidays. He had been in the row behind me, but when two parents came down the isle with their adult child toward the end of the boarding process, he promptly offered them his row and moved to the middle seat in mine.

Arriving in Denver, at first I panicked when I didn’t see my connecting flight on the board. Double checking by flight number, I was not surprised to find it delayed. For that matter, so is the flight to Los Vegas as well as the young man’s flight to Salt Lake.

So here I am in the Denver airport, now scheduled for departure @2305 Mountain Time and will arrive as close to the scheduled 0035, which of course is Pacific Time. 18+3+? Up too long, that is for certain.