parking my car in harvard yard

I’m leaving on a jet plane… the corporate jet that is! I found out yesterday I will be attending the focus groups in Boston and Chicago for the major project I’m working on. A couple weeks ago I was told I wouldn’t be able to go. Most likely because the entire company is extremely focused on cutting expenses. But my leader and our team leader were huge advocates for me to gain first hand experience.

There is talk of using the corporate jet to fly directly to Boston saving connection and lay over time if we flew commercial. It all comes down to schedules and whether the top executives need to use it that week. We’ll fly to Boston Monday night and have Tuesday morning to explore the city. I’m really excited. I’ve only been to the east coast once – a trip through Hershey, PA in the middle of the night.

We’ll do focus groups that night and take a midnight flight to Chicago. Again, we’ll have most of Wednesday to see the sights before more work that night. We have one focus group scheduled for Thursday. It could be first thing in the morning, which means I’ll be home by supper. If it ends up being Thursday night I’ll have one more day to explore Chicago. The last time I was in Chicago was for my brother’s graduation from boot camp my freshman year of high school. And I don’t remember much of the city since we spent so much time on the naval base. It should be a fun trip.

could be worse

In the midst of a crazy day at work Ryan sends me an email from a guy from volunteering with the search and rescue team. Most people on this team have search and rescue dogs who are trained to find missing people. They talk about their dogs a lot, but I had no idea how much their lives revolve around their canine friends until today.

After the snow melted, this one particular guy divided his back yard into grids so he could cover every square inch of his backyard to see where his dog “had been” over the winter. He noted his favorite places to go in the back yard. There was even a reference to carbon dating to trace the specific habits of his dog throughout the winter. And he did it TWICE! Once after each major thaw this winter.

I emailed Ryan and thanked him profusely for not making me carbon date Gus’ crap.

And that will be my last post about dog poo… I promise.

i hate spring

Before I get mauled by the masses… just hear me out.

I spent over two hours yesterday picking up the back yard. I collected hundreds of three to four inch pieces of the once 10 foot long garden hose we forgot to pick up before it snowed. Obviously we forgot to pick it up again once the snow melted, and Gus got a hold of it. I also ran across two screw drivers, three pop bottles, seven old bones, a cotton rope, and lots of paper and plastic. It would have made an interesting sculpture. And that only took a half an hour.

I spent the remaining hour and a half picking up four months worth of dog crap. Last year we didn’t have this problem. Last year Gus was in his kennel during the day while we were gone. This year we decided to see if he would behave himself in the back yard. He only escaped once and seemed to leave things alone. So we gave him a little more freedom. Mostly it alleviated our guilt for leaving him in his kennel all day. The problem was further compounded with our decision to switch him to a cheaper dog food. Cheaper = more ruffage = more crap. We have a compost pile (which I’m not a huge proponent of despite knowing the environmental benefits) and an elaborate dog poo septic system. But you still have to pick it up. I’m really curious to know how other people with dogs in town handle the poo problem. Any ideas?

I love Gus, but I really want a nice, well-kept backyard. I suppose it’s impossible to have both, and Gus isn’t going anywhere so I just need to suck it up. But thanks for listening.

small town drama

This week has been really busy. The town committee met Monday night. ‘Committee’ is used loosely as there are only three of us. Together we plan and orchestrate the various town events for the year including the big summer festival in June. The highlight of which is the truck pull. And since none of us know the first thing about weight classes and measuring hitch height we had a lot to discuss. Thankfully we decided to ask the Fire Department to help us pull it off. I volunteered to organize a classic car show this year. As such, I have be-friended one of Ryan’s co-workers as he serves on the Iowa car show association board. The committee provides great insight for an outsider looking to become part of a small town community full of politics, gossip, and hearsay. Let’s just say it’s interesting…

Tuesday night I went to the Fire Department meeting, which adds another dynamic to small town life. Apparently the town committee and the Fire Department don’t play well together. It all started years ago – about the fall truck pull – and seems to me like some people hang onto petty grudges for the sake of creating drama. Which makes Ryan and I a house divided. I’m on the committee. He’s on the Fire Department. It turned out to be a good thing. The Fire Department guys (and girls mind you) seem to trust me and we get along pretty well. Which nominated me to be the go-between for the two groups. In the end one of their guys offered to play – what I hope – will be a pretty big role in getting it organized, and the rest of the department agreed to help.

Now I have to go back and rally for the committee to split the profits with the department. We split the proceeds from the past fall truck pull in an effort to smooth over the rough edges of the relationship. I’m not sure the committee will be as giving with the summer pull. But with out their help we probably won’t have a pull at all…

Oh the blessings of small town life. As much as I jest about the craziness, I really do enjoy living where we live. I’d rather settle arguments over truck pulls than watch someone get stabbed on the neighbor’s lawn. The only thing better would be a place in the country where no one could find us.