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susandennisIt looks like UPS is teasing me. No "out for delivery" entry today for the Fish Locker. It's probably still in Texas and the web tracking is just so much fiction. Sigh. Oh well, I guess I can wait for tomorrow.
We're getting ready to heat up here. Tomorrow and Friday are promising to be 90+. Should be fun. My boss is having a company picnic at a city park tomorrow starting at 4. I have multiple reasons for not going... I don't want to, it's too hot, I don't do 'all families and especially children welcome' events and Keiran and Alan are coming over to help me place the Fish Locker. No one has asked me yet if I'm going and the invitation did not have an RSVP on it. Should the need arise, I'm pretty set with 'so sorry, other plans.'
My buddy, Tyler, finally got approval for network access. This is pretty huge in my world. Tyler and I will be doing kind of the contractor's equivalent of job sharing. When I get too much work, I can give some of it to him and vice versa. Plus, he can be my QA team and I his and we can be our own support team. This will be great. Tyler lives in Utah and has a day job until out work load grows to support him, too. He's coming up (over?) here on Friday to pick up his physical credentials and other stuff he needs. It was last February that I first proposed we snag him... there were lots o' hurdles to jump but it looks like we're close to clearing the last one.
When I was growing up there were three kinds of clothes: Sunday School clothes, School clothes and Play clothes.
Sunday School clothes were the fanciest. Always dresses, of course, maryjane shoes, and usually anklet socks with some kind of fancy trim. Sunday School clothes were worn to Sunday School but also, of course, to church and on all doctor and dentist visits as well as on any airplane trip. We always got new Sunday School outfits at Easter.
School clothes were also dresses or skirts. (I was a sophomore in college before I ever was allowed to attend a class in pants.) I had one pair of school shoes that were generally knock-off loafers (not the expensive brand that the cool kids had, of course). Although until the 6th grade I had to wear brown tie shoes because they could put giant arch supports in them to correct my still-to-this-day very flat feet. Finally in the 6th grade I convinced my mother that the social pressure of wearing the UGLIEST shoes in the universe was far more dangerous to my life than flat feet ever would be.
Oh and School clothes were worn to any place where Sunday School clothes were not.
Play clothes were never worn anywhere but at home or at the homes of neighbors. Generally speaking, if you got into the car to go somewhere, play clothes were not appropriate. Play clothes were not jeans, interestingly enough. Corduroy and cotton and wool pants and shirts and sneakers. I was probably in high school before I got my first pair of jeans and it wasn't a big enough deal for me to even remember the details.
We always bought our shoes at Stanley's Shoe Store in downtown Winston-Salem. Old Mr. Stanley went to our church. He had candy. And... he had an x-ray machine you could stick your feet (or hands or arms) and see the bones! It was tres cool. Until it was outlawed as toxically dangerous.
We're getting ready to heat up here. Tomorrow and Friday are promising to be 90+. Should be fun. My boss is having a company picnic at a city park tomorrow starting at 4. I have multiple reasons for not going... I don't want to, it's too hot, I don't do 'all families and especially children welcome' events and Keiran and Alan are coming over to help me place the Fish Locker. No one has asked me yet if I'm going and the invitation did not have an RSVP on it. Should the need arise, I'm pretty set with 'so sorry, other plans.'
My buddy, Tyler, finally got approval for network access. This is pretty huge in my world. Tyler and I will be doing kind of the contractor's equivalent of job sharing. When I get too much work, I can give some of it to him and vice versa. Plus, he can be my QA team and I his and we can be our own support team. This will be great. Tyler lives in Utah and has a day job until out work load grows to support him, too. He's coming up (over?) here on Friday to pick up his physical credentials and other stuff he needs. It was last February that I first proposed we snag him... there were lots o' hurdles to jump but it looks like we're close to clearing the last one.
When I was growing up there were three kinds of clothes: Sunday School clothes, School clothes and Play clothes.
Sunday School clothes were the fanciest. Always dresses, of course, maryjane shoes, and usually anklet socks with some kind of fancy trim. Sunday School clothes were worn to Sunday School but also, of course, to church and on all doctor and dentist visits as well as on any airplane trip. We always got new Sunday School outfits at Easter.
School clothes were also dresses or skirts. (I was a sophomore in college before I ever was allowed to attend a class in pants.) I had one pair of school shoes that were generally knock-off loafers (not the expensive brand that the cool kids had, of course). Although until the 6th grade I had to wear brown tie shoes because they could put giant arch supports in them to correct my still-to-this-day very flat feet. Finally in the 6th grade I convinced my mother that the social pressure of wearing the UGLIEST shoes in the universe was far more dangerous to my life than flat feet ever would be.
Oh and School clothes were worn to any place where Sunday School clothes were not.
Play clothes were never worn anywhere but at home or at the homes of neighbors. Generally speaking, if you got into the car to go somewhere, play clothes were not appropriate. Play clothes were not jeans, interestingly enough. Corduroy and cotton and wool pants and shirts and sneakers. I was probably in high school before I got my first pair of jeans and it wasn't a big enough deal for me to even remember the details.
We always bought our shoes at Stanley's Shoe Store in downtown Winston-Salem. Old Mr. Stanley went to our church. He had candy. And... he had an x-ray machine you could stick your feet (or hands or arms) and see the bones! It was tres cool. Until it was outlawed as toxically dangerous.
