 Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans, cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of. Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net . . . . . . . . . .
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» Sunday, September 01, 2024
Breathing Rarefied Air
As the kids today say, I "did a thing." I was deathly in fear of doing this "thing" because it involved leaving James alone for the day. Make no mistake, he is much stronger and fitter than he was when he got out of the hospital at the end of June. But he still doesn't feel stable enough on his feet, mostly due to his back and knee pain, to go back to a cane or even back to where he was months ago just walking slowly and making sure he has touchpoints. He still relies on the rolling walker we got from Kaiser, but he's been using it to get around the kitchen much better—if still painfully—to the point where he can even wash a pan or two to start prepping. When I told him what I wanted to do, he said, "Go ahead, do it. I want you to do it. You need the break and you deserve it." He even went on Amazon and ordered a tray/storage compartment that fit on the top of the walker so I didn't have to help him transport the parts of his breakfast anymore (the egg plate or the burritos, the tea, the oatmeal, and the smoothie drink). He kept repeating "I will be fine." I was still paranoid, especially about what if he had a fall or had chest pains that didn't go away with nitroglycerin. To assuage that, I made sure the chair lift seat wasn't blocking the door and left a house key hidden on the porch, then told him to keep his phone on him at all times. If he had to call 911, hopefully he could tell them where the key was and they could get in without damaging the door. So I did it. From the moment that I saw Vincent D'Onofrio was going to be at DragonCon, I wanted to be there. We haven't gone since 2019, and, although I miss it, I don't miss the crowds, the constant noise, the crowds, the heat between the hotels, the crowds, the long wait for elevators since James is in the power chair, the crowds...well, you get it. I'm homesick for it, because DragonCon has been an alternate "home" for years, with a bunch of people I adore who I only see mainly there (the BritTrack people, the Trek Track folks, the sci-fi lit panel regulars, etc.). I miss them. So I bought a Sunday membership and bought a photo op (it's a very early birthday gift to myself). Alice did offer me to loan me her badge on Saturday (which would have been naughty, but...) while she watched the Georgia football game, but I decided against it (but thanked her copiously). She reminded me to get parking in advance, which I did (and it turned out I didn't need to, as there was plenty of space on Sunday at less than I paid for pre-paid, but...better safe than sorry, as everyone's mom has said at least once). We made it down to the wire with James neither having a fall or chest pains by Saturday night. Thursday night I was feeling guilty and said to him, "Maybe I should have gotten you a Sunday membership," thinking he could have wandered about while I was doing my fangirl thing. But just going for an echocardiogram, eating out at Pacific Buffet, and stopping at Barnes & Noble had wiped him out that day, and he demurred. Sunday morning, after not a lot of sleep due to anxiety, I was up at 7:30. My backpack was already kitted up with some snacks, my camera, a folder to put my reserved photo from the photo op in, my tablet, etc. I dressed, fed and walked Tucker, used the bathroom, and off Butch and I went. The bad day driving to DragonCon is always Friday, because of rush-hour traffic; on Sunday the freeway is practically empty. We freewheeled following the GPS down I-75, exited at Courtland Street, turned left on Andrew Young, and drove up to opposite the Westin. With SpotHero all I did was drive into the garage, find a parking space, and walk off (coming out was just as easy; I didn't have to scan a QR code or anything). After five years of non-attendance, you would have thought I'd fumble around trying to remember things. Nope—it's all muscle memory now, like riding a bicycle. It was cool and shady enough that I just walked down the big long hill from the Westin to the Courtland Grand (formerly the Sheraton), stopped once by a young blond woman who saw my Law & Order: Criminal Intent t-shirt (bought especially for the occasion!) and gushed "I love your shirt! I love that show," crossed Courtland Street again, and headed for registration. This was easy-peasy, just follow others through a little Disney World serpentine, show my QR code, and get my badge. Took five minutes. Then I went to Disability Services, because, while I am willing to wait in line, I cannot be outside in the sun or else Mr. Headache, Mr. Palpitations, and then Mr. Diarrhea will visit me in short order. DS decided that was justifiable and I got a seat in line and end of row designation. Now, breakfast! Again by long habit: hike the block to the Courtland Garage, use their elevator to what James and I have always called "the Luke Skywalk" and into Peachtree Center and the myriad of eating locations, some shuttered until lunch, others open for breakfast. Of course I went to Cafe Momo, which is a big buffet-by-the-pound, as I planned to have a hearty meal and then just snack later. In my styrofoam container I put oatmeal in one small compartment, roast potatoes in the other, a slice of French toast and some peeled and sliced oranges and kiwi fruit in the big compartment. Finishing off with a reduced-fat milk and a bagel and cream cheese, I went out to the tables to eat. (They have lots of other stuff—eggs—yuck!—both scrambled and fried and spicy; grits, pre-made tortilla shell meals with meat and lettuce; different fruits; coffee and tea; cereals; etc.) Oh, if you were looking for Waldo, I found him having breakfast at Peachtree Center, too! When I got done it was much too early to go to the Walk of Fame where Vincent D'Onofrio would be signing things, so I marched over the skybridges through the Marriott and into the Hilton to descend to the oh-so-wonderful coolness of the Galleria level where Trek Track and BritTrack are and walked into the Lower Decks panel. Alan Siler was on the panel and I can't remember when I'd seen him in person last. I got two hugs and we talked and he told me how he was splitting the book he was writing in three parts, and that his Kozmic Press outfit is going to be doing an anthology of essays of women talking about how they were influenced by the Beatles. You so rarely see books written about how women have been influenced by rock bands! And the panel was fun, too, talking about favorite moments in Lower Decks—has any scene been funnier than the punchline with T'Ana and the box she asks Beckett and Tendi to fetch?—and if this is really the end for the series. Now I moseyed on back to the Marriott and the Walk of Fame; there was no line at this point and I just strolled right in. The actors sit in little booths talking to the fans and selling autographs (James and I have been going long enough to remember when you bought the photos from a dealer or from the actor and the actors signed them for free!). Jodie Whittaker (Doctor #13) was signing autographs practically in front of me. Vincent D'Onofrio wasn't at his booth, so I walked around checking everyone out. Anson Mount, when I finally spied him, was wearing a baseball hat, so no glimpse of the infamous Pike hair wave, and looked tired. There was a lively crowd around "the hobbits" (Dominic Monaghan, Billy Boyd, and Elijah Wood). And I absolutely had to stop and say hi to Barry Gordon when he was free. He does animation voices now, but I remember Barry Gordon from when he was a child actor, especially in the film A Thousand Clowns with Jason Robards. It was on television in the late 60s and I cried at the end when Robards realized that, to support his abandoned nephew (Gordon) properly, he would have to give up his bohemian lifestyle and take a 9-to-5 job. When he walks off dressed in the suit carrying a briefcase just like all the other white-collar automatons in NYC I burst into tears. He seemed happy that I remembered it. Finally I went back to the line to find out that Vincent D'Onofrio was expected shortly, so I got into line. I had his two books with me, Mutha and Pigs Can't Look Up. Unfortunately, I found out in line that it was cash only. I'd been talking with various of his fans in line, including other CI fans, and the guy dressed as the Fourth Doctor said, "There's an ATM over there; I'll hold your place!" and I ran over and got the cash. Turned out I could only have one book signed with the money I had and I really couldn't afford both, so I got Mutha signed and told him I remembered going to the Monkey Jungle place in Florida that he wrote about when I was about two or three (I agree; it was a terrible place, all noise and agitated simians and smelled horrible, and why parents dragged kids there I'll never know). The line was long and I didn't want to take too much of his time, so I never asked him James' question, which was if we would ever see a DVD or at least a streaming release of Night of the Cooters, and then I was sorry a few minutes later when another woman engaged him in conversation for at least two or three minutes. (While I'd been waiting earlier he told the woman before me the story of the unusual voice he uses for the Jack Horne character in the remake of The Magnificent Seven. He was in London doing a movie (I wonder if it was the Sherlock Holmes film) and he was waiting at a restaurant when this enormous man walked in; he actually blocked the light coming in the restaurant door he was so big, and "his hands were the size of baseball mitts." So he says something to him and this huge man replies in this high-pitched voice, so he wanted to use that voice in the future.) I stood there a long time watching him interact with everyone. Honestly, he looks gorgeous. You can tell he works out and takes care of himself; the only sign that he's older is the grey hair and beard. His hands are still absolutely beautiful, long slim fingers like a pianist's might be. (Yeah, I'm gushing here...) I also ran into Rob Bowen and got a hug. I was really restricting myself on locations, so perhaps it followed, but I didn't run into nearly as many people as I do—I usually see someone from ARTC, or Mark Heffernan, or the Rays, or Roger Nichols, or even Laura Hayden...but...no. Finally I decided I needed to hit a bathroom and hie myself over to the Hyatt to get in line for the 2:30 panel. I'd been in terrible fear that I would need to pee before the panel and lose my place in line or, even worse, have to pee during the panel, so I was sucking on watermelon candies and hadn't drunk anything since the milk at breakfast (which was terrible—it was labeled "ultra-filtered milk" and tasted like milk-flavored water). So when a friendly looking woman sat next to me in the waiting area I started talking to her and we were "bathroom buddies" for the duration; she watched my backpack while I used the rest room and then I watched hers. We bonded over knee surgery, which she'd had (both knees) and I was telling her James wished he could. (BTW, I periodically texted James all day, mostly to receive the response "I'm fine; have fun!")
The panel loaded quickly, and I got a nice aisle seat where I could take a lot of photos. Vincent was on this panel with Mike Colter, who played Luke Cage in the short-lived series. They were very easy with each other and it turned out they knew each other from sometime back when Colter was in an episode of CI ("Albatross"). (They had this very funny back-and-forth about the meaning of the word "albatross"—yes, it's a really neat bird, but it also has a metaphorical meaning and so on...) Since this was a panel about Marvel, the questions were mostly about Kingpin and Luke Cage, a lot of it going over my head since I've avoided Daredevil due to the violence. He did talk about how he loved the role, but that gaining the extra weight every time they filmed was getting harder because it's hard to lose weight as you get older. For the newest series, they have a new "fat suit" which he said is still very warm, but is very light, "like a sneaker," he described it. So with that and the use of prosthetics and makeup he doesn't have to gain the weight any longer (which is fine with me because he looks so fine!). Vincent also told the story about how he got the part of Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket; Matthew Modine, a friend of his, encouraged him to audition via a short film (he was working as a bodyguard at that time) and he rented a camera and performed some dialog from a play. Stanley Kubrick was impressed enough by the film to call him, and the first time he hung up on Kubrick because he thought it was a joke. Kubrick called right back and said immediately, "Don't hang up!" Once the panel was over, I had a short appointment in the ladies' room—"unavoidable delay" as Frank Gilbreth would put it—since it wasn't crowded, which I used it as an opportunity to decompress and cool down. It was not yet 4:30 when I headed downstairs for my 5 p.m.photo op. The area outside was crowded and hot, and I noticed from my appointment printout that I was still early, so I wandered in the rest room for a little longer and splashed cold water on myself and cleaned my face off and put a tiny bit of blush on. I'd never done one of these before so I wandered back following the signs not knowing what to expect. The basement level of the Marriott was partitioned off with a lot of dark curtains hanging from portable curtain stands. It was hard to be in this area without nostalgia because it had served DragonCon as the Dealer's Room and the Walk of Fame for so many years; it was here I got June Lockhart's autograph and talked to Dee Wallace-Stone about her being back to back with June Lockhart—two of Lassie's TV moms together! (Now the Dealer's Room takes up four levels of the Merchandise Mart!) The one thing I hate about the new Walk of Fame is they forbid you to take unauthorized photos; I used to love going in there and get candid shots of the performers interacting with the fans. I have photos of Mark Goddard and numerous other people just sitting behind a table and hanging with congoers. At first you stay in a general area where you wait for your photo op "partner" to be called. While a bunch of us waited, including a woman in a "DUN DUN" Law & Order shirt, I saw someone dressed as Vincent's Daredevil character Kingpin come in, portly, with the white dinner jacket, the cane and all. Then there were two of them, then three, and finally there were four of them altogether. They posed for pictures with the people waiting. It was funny. Then we D'Onofrio fans got called back and shuttled into lines. There were some DS seats available, but I was trying to stand and let the seats go for the people with back and leg problems. Now at this point I hadn't actually had a drink since ten a.m., and sucking on Jolly Ranchers wasn't helping any longer. I finally pointed to a chair and asked "May I sit down?" because I glanced at my Fitbit and discovered my pulse was rocking around at about 90. Sitting helped a lot. I was next to a married couple who were teasing each other, and she was in a wonderful T-shirt with Vincent's pic on top and the cityscape at the bottom and the legend "Robert Goren, Detective" at the bottom. Pretty swell! The photo op itself goes by fast because the Epic people are processing the pictures as fast as they can go. You drop your personal stuff on a table, line up, and one by one the person (or persons, because there are group shoots) gets into the picture with you, the photographer yells "Chin down!" and the picture is done and the next person is summoned. I broke protocol at this point, just quickly, because the one thing I had wanted so badly to say at the autograph table never came out. I said very quickly "Thank you for Twitter. It's helped me through some bad places in the last few years" and he bent over me a little to hear what I said and then they took the picture and I think he said "thank you" or something because I was brain fried and totally overheated at this point. Picked up my stuff and asked one of the Kingpins, "What now?" and he said come back here and get your picture, and he pointed it out when we got there, already printed out. And you got checked out to see if you got your photo—and the correct photo—and then it was over.  I really would have liked to stay...but I was tired and hungry and ohIhadtomakesure James was okay. I walked out the back of the Marriott instead of going across the bridge to Peachtree Center and taking the back door, which would have gotten me to within a block of the Westin, but I just did homing pigeon. Walked up the hill past the Hyatt and then crossed Peachtree Center and then left across Harris. By that time I was blowing like a racehorse and stopped to catch my breath at the water features in front of a building on Peachtree Street. In about a minute I was able to take in a lungful of air again to trudge on and turn at the Westin to go back to the parking garage. I will say I am glad we were not in the truck in this garage! It was tiny and if the ramps going up were steep, the ones coming down seemed like they were about at a 45 degree angle! The chair lift would have scraped the ground even without the power chair in it! But yeah, the gate just opened for me and out I went, back on the city streets, and back on the freeway, and then back home, exhausted. I was so happy I cried all the way home. James held dinner for me; it was about six, and it was a turkey burger which I smothered in the wonderful Meadowcroft Farms sweet onion relish. We split a Ritter peppermint-filled dark chocolate bar for dessert. Bliss. My day was complete when I posted my photo op on Twitter and once again thanked Vincent D'Onofrio for his posts—they have truly gotten me through many dark things in the past couple of years—and he liked my post. Well, of course I watched Law & Order: Criminal Intent later on...why do you ask? — [Fitbit stats: 13,546 steps, 5.38 miles, 12 floors, 49 active zones, and 62 active minutes. I put on 1000 steps with walking Tucker twice, but at least 12,000 of those steps were between 8:30 p.m. and 5:30 p.m. We don't call it "the DragonCon Exercise Program" for nothing.] [At least September 1 was better than August 1. I lost Oliver one month ago today. Miss you, baby bird.] Labels: dogs, DragonCon, dreams, emotions, events, exercise, family, food, friends, television  » Tuesday, September 07, 2021
...And We Didn't Go to DragonCon
 We did start prepping for it. I have the 100-calorie packs, the goldfish crackers, the Lance cracker packs, etc. all carefully stacked on a shelf in the laundry room. (Never did find juice boxes!) We talked about it. We had friends that intended to go, and these were the most sensible of our friends. They weren't the type that took unnecessary risks. Nevertheless, we were riding on the edge of that fence for most of the summer. James didn't even ask for Sunday and Monday off, I never reserved parking spaces. The news about the hospitals being overwhelmed by the Delta variant of COVID was daunting. But we were still considering it. When Betty passed away it was the last straw. She and John had just gone away for a weekend, and I know both of them were also sensible. They probably took precautions. And they were both vaccinated. And they both got sick. And Betty died. At this point James had already decided not to go, but oh, I was still thinking... We do have to get up early for DragonCon. I hate getting up early anymore (even though I'll have to do it for the Yellow Daisy Festival...and the Georgia Apple Festival). I don't feel any kind of refreshed unless I get up around 8:30. And you can't do that going to DragonCon. It has to be up early (at 6:30 on Friday because of registration and the traffic, and 7 a.m. other days if you have a panel at ten and you don't want to gulp your breakfast). But, as I admitted to someone, not going felt horrible. I felt like an superannuated firehorse who'd been put out to pasture, but still heard the ringing of the fire bell from the field, and oh, how I wanted to jump the fence and go to the fire, too! And I could still do it, if I wanted: get up at seven, grab some breakfast here to save money, take the car downtown (surely the garages weren't full). But I ended up not doing it because...well, as James and I were talking about: there are always alternate futures, and there was a future in which we both went to DragonCon and nothing happened. But there was also a future where we went and he got sick despite the mask and the lowered crowds, because of his co-morbidities. Or one future where I got sick, and then who would take care of his leg? Or a future where we both got sick...and who would be there for Tucker and Snowy? I could cry all I wanted all weekend about DragonCon (and I did, in odd corners), but nothing would be worse than how I would feel if something happened to James if I encouraged him to go or if the fids got neglected if we came down with the hellish thing. My wish about this past weekend is that in two or three weeks we can look at the posts on Facebook and realize no one we love got sick...not Alice and Ken, nor Aubrey, not all my friends at Brittrack, and that we were too cautious. Because that's so much better than the alternative. The Brittrack folks did do some virtual panels, including one on Agatha Christie and one on early Doctor Who, which were fun, and they did have the DragonCon parade on YouTube. Meanwhile, to make up for things, James took us up to Canton on Friday so we could have some decent pizza at Uncle Maddio's—that poor guy up there is still running the whole place alone since February—and go to Books-a-Million (bought Untamed, about a woman who is protecting the wildlife on Cumberland Island, and The Women's Hour, about the suffrage movement, the latter from the bargain books). It's sad when Books-a-Million has more books than most of the local Barnes & Nobles! We sacked out when we got home and watched Law & Order reruns. Saturday we took our clothes to the cleaner to prep for Jessie and John's wedding, and had dinner for James' birthday at Longhorn. I found a beaut of a gift for him from Hamilton Books: all about British aviation films. Sunday I put up more fall decor and Monday got to see the Sunday morning Christopher Eccleston interview from DragonCon that someone posted on YouTube. (If I'd gotten to see him, it would have meant I would have seen all the available Doctors live...Hartnell having passed on and Jodie Whittaker being unavailable.) Otherwise I've been mainlining Law & Order: Criminal Intent episodes in the afternoon from Peacock (and reading fanfic as well), starting from the beginning. Not sure I can stand the eps where they start playing with Goren's head, though. God, how I hated all those Hawaii Five-0 episodes where a member of the cast got tortured! But, gawd, it's fun watching Vincent D'Onofrio play "Detective Twitchy," as James calls him. It's an art form. Labels: books, conventions, death, DragonCon, excursions, friends, health, illness, television » Tuesday, September 08, 2020
The Final Frontier
 Once the interviews were over, they did more memorable episodes. So it was like having an extra day at DragonCon. Labels: anniversaries, DragonCon, television » Monday, September 07, 2020
"Faith Manages"
In the spring, when the COVID-19 lockdowns began, we could only wonder peripherally about what would happen in the future. Right then the hospitalization and death statistics were too overwhelming. Cobb County cancelled the spring Library Book Sale two days before the event, even though I was already planning a way to get through the event safely (mask and then leaving the books downstairs for a week to let any germs die—the thought then was the virus only lasted on surfaces 72 hours). We managed to make it to Atomicon; Helen, GA, shut down the very next day.As the spring, and then the summer moved on, more and more things were cancelled: Smyrna's Spring Jonquil Festival, Media West Con, then MomoCon and LibertyCon. DragonCon held out till the last minute, but then in July we got the word it was too cancelled. Sadness, but a little bit of relief, too. Imagine DragonCon wearing masks, in all that heat! Certainly there would be fewer people, as many would choose not to travel and especially not to fly, but crowds... And frankly I wasn't really feeling up to it physically. In the spring, before it got hot, I was walking two miles a day and didn't feel bad, but every summer is harder and harder on me, and the thought of having to prep all the snacks, and cook the chicken and make the sandwiches, and then, the worst of all, having to get up early on Friday to fight rush hour traffic. The worst thing about summer is sleeping because even with the thermostat down to 68°F and three fans going, it's simply too warm. Then the chatter started on the various Facebook groups devoted to DragonCon tracks: BritTrack, American Sci-Fi Classics, SF Literature, etc. They were going to try to do some virtual stuff; arrange some interviews via Zoom and post the videos on YouTube. Well, okay. This would be some small solace, but what, really, could they do?  "What could they do?" indeed! They succeeded past our wildest dreams. Eventually DragonCon Goes Virtual had a Roku channel that was split up into three tracks. One was "DCTVLand," which showed panels from previous years. We were treated to the classic 2009 panel with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy, John Barrowman and Kai Owen discussing Torchwood in 2012, several interviews with the late Stan Lee and with Brian Henson, son of Jim, and more. A second track was the Fan Track, which featured panels from each of the multiple programming tracks at DragonCon actual: a BritTrack panel about tea and programming, costuming panels, Star Trek reunion panels, etc. The final track was "Main Programming," which included a virtual masquerade and a virtual parade. People sent in videos of themselves in costume to the former, people in costume marched around their back yards, local parks, and their own streets, and this was strung into a virtual parade interspersed with historical video of past parades. What wasn't on Roku was on YouTube. BritTrack did a whole string of panels, including two on James Bond and one on Sherlock Holmes archetypes (Adrian Monk, anyone? Or Gregory House?) American SciFi Classics turned out some delightful stuff. Saw a Zoom interview with author Jim Butcher, old panels with Grant Imahara 😭, Alton Brown, Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk, Carrie Fisher 😭, and a brand new panel with the cast of Star Trek: Voyager. We even had a performance by the Atlanta Radio Theatre Company that knocked our socks off. Also, it has apparently been a tradition at the masquerade—we haven't gone in years; too long a line—to play "Duck Dodgers in the 24 1/2 Century" during the judging. However, since DragonCon was being broadcast, they couldn't do it due to copyright violation. So they had people act it out. It was hysterical. You can watch it here! In short, it was a weird idea that totally, fabulously, worked. Heck, there's programming online we still haven't seen. And they've promised us all this nonsense will be available through the $10 streaming membership we bought. Several of the tracks have their programming up on YouTube without a streaming membership. So many people schemed, dreamed, worked hard, and then gave us something we didn't imagine they could: they gave us DragonCon weekend. In the words of J. Michael Straczynski: "Faith manages." Thank all of you, and God bless. (Stay well!) Labels: Atlanta Radio Theatre Company, conventions, DragonCon, events, health, sickness » Tuesday, December 31, 2019
My Favorite Dozen Things About 2019
1. James didn't have to go to the hospital all year! 2. After a false start, James' arthritis medicine worked. 3. Dark chocolate Oreos. 4. Lidl. 5. Finally resolved loveseat problem and moved my desk into craft room (loveseat is now a storage platform!), leaving room for toy chest in bedroom which is now blanket chest. 6. Bought all Lassie black-and-white episodes (uncut). 7. Finally found the baby monitor so I can use it when doing laundry. 8. Finally rid of that stupid Pixel phone. 9. Subscribed to PBS Passport. 10. Saw David Tennant at DragonCon. 11. Molly of Denali. 12. Pam-next-door's Christmas tree.* *I suppose I should explain. Pam moved next door in October. She's renting the downstairs of the house, and I guess she has kitchen privileges upstairs. She has a little Shih Tzu named Diesel who is having a territorial dispute with Tucker, who imagines he owns the neighborhood. Anyway, she had a Christmas tree downstairs in her "parlor," but right before Christmas she put a real one up upstairs in the dining room window. Since she doesn't spend most of the time upstairs, most of the time there was just a little light in the kitchen and the tree glowing in the window. Well, I spent so much time staring at that tree every time I walked Tucker at night that Pam must have thought I was nuts. But instead I was flashing back to childhood and going to my Papà's house for Christmas. I've written about this several places, including in an essay called "The Magic House." From that essay: ...to slowly make my way up the cellar steps to the back entry, and thus to the kitchen. As always it was dark, except for a nightlight, in a room that looked as if it hadn't changed since the 1940s. The newest appliance was the big white-and-chrome Roper stove with its two ovens, seated like a squat monarch overlooking a tiny kingdom. The table, looking like a dwarf compared with its big cousin downstairs, was covered with a red-checked cloth, and with the white-fronted kitchen cabinets and the homey little memorabilia on the walls and side tables, it looked like something out of a dream. Aunty never forgot the upstairs tables; cut glass dishes held ribbon candy and chocolates even here, and I'd be able to sneak a few more bites away from Mom's disapproving eye. But food was not the lure, but the light... There was a soft glow from the dining room coming through the glass-paned door; to open it led you in a room from another century, furnished with the heavy sideboards and dining room set, and lit, like some enchanted glade, simply by the light of the Christmas tree. This had electric lights, of course, not the more dangerous candles, but these were always the original, large bulb sets, supplemented for many years by a dwindling few of the fascinating bubble lights. In those bulbs the ornaments flashed and glittered and twinkled: old molded glass fruits side-by-side with the Woolworth's balls both old--including clear ones from World War II--and new, the branches hung with the heavy old-fashioned icicles in lieu of the newer mylar ones. They danced in the little bursts of air that crept nevertheless under the cold windows and collided with the warmer air from the cast-iron radiators. If I were truly alone, if one of the uncles had not crept upstairs to watch the big cabinet black-and-white TV and fall asleep--"I'm just resting my eyes!"--on the capacious sofa, I could curl up on the floor under the tree where brightly wrapped gifts and the manger set sat, to smooth the cotton footing under the various statues, to move sheep into their proper places, and wonder what it had truly been like in Bethlehem on that night. If you laid back on the cold floor just right and looked up, there was a faerie path between the tree branches lit by color and glitter--if you could only walk forward, you too could be a part of the Magic. There was the quiet to think, to dream, but still comforted by the sounds of the party below and the faint murmur of Christmas stories playing on the television. Of course Pam's tree's didn't have big bulbs or vintage ornaments and lead tinsel, but lit up there, glowing multi-color against the dim dining room, seen with a stage curtain frame of drapery pulled up in a scallop on either side, glimpsed through open shutters of Venetian blinds, well, somehow, if just for a moment, that magic door opened up again and comforted me and set up longing all at once. I miss Pam's tree. Labels: Christmas, decluttering, DragonCon, electronics, health, television » Saturday, September 07, 2019
After DragonCon Comes GroceryCon
So, we've spent the last three days bouncing around from grocery store to grocery store, with some fun stops in between.But first there was Wednesday, which was James' birthday. After I tossed some clothes in the washer, I was going to sneak into the bedroom, pull a book out of my stash, pair it with a homemade card. Instead I spent the day being sick. At least cooked dinner and did the laundry. In a half-hearted attempt to make the day festive, I put on Solo: A Star Wars Story, which we still hadn't seen. It was fun—whatever chick-lit for guys and adventure fans is called. James was amused by the solution to the Kessel run story; as we got ready for bed that night, he mused, "So I guess all Han needed to make the Kessel run in 12 parsecs was 'Liquid Schwartz'?" ROFL! (If you do not get this, please watch Spaceballs.) This is the weekend we always attend the Yellow Daisy Festival; we usually go on Sunday because the crowds are low early in the morning. Alas, we didn't have that option this year. So I had an idea: why not go Thursday? A lot of people will be at work, so it should be okay. This worked better in theory. First, we had to get up at six since we had to go across town through rush hour traffic. I said to James, "We'll get out there, and then we'll stop somewhere like an IHOP for breakfast, then go to the Festival." Well, we left the house at seven, but by eight were barely twelve miles from home because we had had to stop for gasoline, and then we had to stop for money. So while James availed himself of the Presto ATM at Publix, I went inside and bought us two sandwiches for breakfast instead. By the time we got to Stone Mountain, we discovered that the handicapped lot was nearly full. Of course! It was a weekday! Who was here? All the grandmas and grandpas, and all the stay-at-home moms! Even with us getting the Early Bird admission, it was still crowded. We also missed several of the regular vendors. They were not on the vendors' list at all, so I assume it was not a "we only attend on weekends" problem. 1st Sergeant Salsa, Meadowcroft Farms, and Smack Yo Mama barbecue sauce were nowhere to be seen. Meadowcroft and Mama may turn up at the Jonquil Festival or the Apple Festival, but if James wants the other he will have to mail order, as we've only ever seen them at Yellow Daisy. Also, One Screw Loose jellies was on the vendor list, but we never saw them. I even went back to the space they were assigned to in the vendor's guide, but it was a metalworker's booth there instead. We did get more maple barbecue sauce, the first of our two yearly Ginny's Fudge purchases, some sugar-free chocolate cheesecake mix, and of course a purchase from the nice folks from Country Pickins. I was delighted to see that this year she has added some Thanksgiving-themed items, a couple of flat plaques with little turkeys, and some other items. Of course I've already done my own Thanksgiving-themed items and didn't need them. I did get a little vignette of Pilgrims and Native Americans, but broke down and bought a Hallowe'en shadowbox and some additional Hallowe'en items for it (I had bought a few some years ago, to put on the fall shelf in late October, but most of the time I kept forgetting to use them). We were flat wiped out when we finished right before noon. I considered we might stop at Publix on the way home, or maybe have lunch instead of the breakfast I promised James, but we were exhausted from the heat. We basically came straight home and it took us three hours to cool off properly. Later on we watched Ralph Breaks the Internet, the second of the Wreck-It Ralph films. Very funny satire on the internet along with the story of Ralph and Vanellope's friendship, and they hit every single internet cliché. Seriously. Right until the very end. The scenes with Vanellope encountering the Disney princesses was priceless. Favorite line: "Look up there! A big strong man who needs rescuing!" Probably won't buy a DVD of Solo, but will this. Thursday was the chief supermarket day: both of us in Publix, me running into Kroger for mushrooms and Lidl for milk, ground turkey, and chocolate. However, we had a nice break in the middle of the food restocking: lunch at Uncle Maddio's Pizza Joint with the Spiveys, Aubrey, and the Boroses. We mostly talked about DragonCon; Aubrey won a keen backpack! Thursday night I went rooting around on YouTube and found both the David Tennant panel that I was able to see (I didn't realize I had missed so little of it; just the chair racing) and the one I missed on Friday, plus the Catherine Tate panel I couldn't get into. There were very few duplicate questions on the Tennant panels, and, of course, lots of Good Omens discussions. Today we had to gird our loins, due to it being a Saturday, and go to Costco, as we were running out of both trash bags and Breathe Right strips, and James needed generic Flonase. This was relatively painless, though, since we found a handicapped parking space right away, and found all of what we were looking for, with the generic Flonase and the Breathe Rights on sale. Also got him some Hippeas and a "Cook's Country" magazine and sliced cheese, and noted that we had to come back before the 29th because the Swiffer mop sheets were also on sale. We can get more generic Flonase and nasal strips then, too. Today we were just getting things we needed. A break: a visit to Barnes & Noble. The fall "Bella Grace" was out, with a breathtaking cover of a woman in a sunset, and I also picked up "Blue Ridge Country" with an awesome fall scene on the cover, and "Country Sampler's" autumn decorating issue. The newest Flavia deLuce mystery was out in paperback and 20 percent off, so I got that as well. We'd forgotten onions yesterday, so I popped into Publix for them, and then we drove to Town Center and the Kaiser office there which is always open because it's urgent care, too, so James could pick up his new medication for his arthritis pain. We are wary of this because it can affect his eyesight, so he'll have to make an eye appointment to get a baseline reading of his eyes and he will have to keep tracking it going forward if he stays on the medication. We had bought a streaming membership for DragonCon so James could see some of the panels he missed, but they only have Monday up still. So I've switched to YouTube and we're watching the parade as the sun sets and we wander into the sticky evening. Labels: birthday, books, crafts, DragonCon, events, festivals, food, friends, internet, magazines, movies, shopping, weather » Thursday, August 29, 2019
Pre-Med Pre-Con...
...or "Emory Midtown Has Got to Be Kidding!"
Wednesday afternoon I cooked up five pounds of chicken, half plain roast, half cacciatore, in preparation for DragonCon. But we had one last obstacle to go before our way was clear. You'll remember James had a bout with chest pain several weeks ago that necessitated our going to Urgent Care, and then a followup visit to James' cardiologist. He wanted James to have a stress test and a PET scan. We both knew that if he had one smidgen of pain or distress during the stress test, DragonCon was a no-go. We might even have to face the fact that they would advise that he needed to go to the catherization lab immediately. Since I began working at CDC and got Kaiser Permanente as health insurance, we have been going to Northside Hospital; it's been thirty (yikes!) years. We've come to love Northside Hospital and their marvelous staff, and even the parking is easy. Last fall, however, Kaiser switched their hospital affiliation because Northside no longer was large enough to accommodate their patient load. So we are now with Emory. Supposedly if we get hospitalized we can go to Emory St. Joseph, which is next to Northside, but for this particular PET scan we had to go to Emory Midtown (formerly Crawford Long Hospital, the place which had almost killed our friend Daniel Taylor after he had a heart attack and they gave him too much warfarin). Despite at least three friends telling us that Emory Midtown was a good place, we weren't reassured. The hospital was, frankly, a fat pain in the butt to get to on a Thursday afternoon. Midtown is always choked with traffic anyway, and even though Waze took us the back way, once we got to Peachtree Street it was a confusing mess. The hospital does nothing to make this any better: the Emergency entrance, the patient drop off and pick up, the valet parking, and the regular parking are all accessed by the same two-lane driveway. It is a holy mess! We basically did valet parking and they were very nice about it (although when we came out we were afraid they had lost the truck—it took them fifteen to twenty minutes to get it back for us). The foyer itself is huge, like some big Fifth Avenue New York City-type skyscraper foyer, and there are different elevators depending on which floors you are on. We had to go wide to the left to get up to the testing floor on 4. Thankfully we were early and they took James back before his appointment time while I sat in the waiting room and ate my lunch. From the waiting room window I could see the Hyatt and the Marriott and I started getting homesick for DragonCon all over again. (We were so close! We'd already paid $10 to park, and we were less than a mile from the Sheraton. If it hadn't been so doggone hot I would have suggested walking to registration. Except it was hellishly hot, and Facebook reports said the wait for registration was 2 1/2 hours and we didn't have our blue registration cards. But believe me the want was there.) So after waiting forever for valet parking to find the truck, and having to get them to help another lady in a wheelchair who was waiting longer than we were, we got the hell out of there. We had to stop by Lidl to get fresh bread, and we spent early Thursday evening making sandwiches, and then packing up the backpacks and making sure the precious blue cards and the parking printouts were with us, and printing out James' emergency QR code for the back of his badge. » Saturday, September 02, 2017
DragonCon 2017, Part 2
One hour's more sleep last night: morning ablutions and dog walking and restocking the backpacks and we were ready to go. My headache and arm ache of last night had vanished; sure glad I was feeling better. The weather was beautiful, too, only 61°F.Once again breakfast at Cafe Momo. We saw the cutest thing: a mom dressed in a red leaf print dress with her hair dyed black, carrying the cutest baby in a Stitch sleeper; so she was Lilo! James didn't have a 10 a.m. panel; I had two of them on my schedule. I ended up at the eclipse panel at the Science track in the Hilton, where they were talking about the "fake" glasses (none of the ones Amazon sold were fake; they just didn't have an ISO sticker) and also about not needing a super camera to take photos of it and about photoshopped images that were passed off as real. He had some killer pics taken by iPhones and just regular cameras just like mine. And of course talking about what a high seeing totality is. Next it was off to the Hyatt for Mercedes Lackey and her husband Larry Dixon. They were in a room opposite of James' panel room—since the elevators are so in demand on Saturday he pretty much just stays in the Hyatt at the Sci-Fi Literature track (he wanted to go to a panel on the 6-Day War at the Westin, but there was no way to get around the crowd lined up for the parade)—so I ran in, gave him a kiss, and then went to my panel. This was a Q&A where Misty and Larry answered questions about writing, Valdemar, old characters, collaborating on books, collaborating with other writers, etc., and they told a cute story about one of their birds (they rehabilitate raptors and have African greys), a small cockatoo. Apparently the bird has learned to cross his wings in front of his body, making a heart shape with them. Then he cocks his head, puts up one foot, and says "Pretty?" Oh, yes, he has them trained! From one author to another; off to the Jim Butcher panel! Jim is always fun. He came out in a Hamilton outfit and later on answered a question in song from the play. He talked about how easy it is to write a first person character (Harry Dresden) versus writing third person (because you have to decide from whose POV you will tell the story), but that sometimes he gets sick of Harry because he lives in his head all the time. His funniest story was a childhood memory about being at a church camp in Brazil singing at Baptist churches and at farmer's markets, and being cursed by a witch doctor while performing at the latter. Right afterwards, he was almost bitten by a poisonous spider and a ditto snake. But he defeated the curse and the witch doctor was beaten up by villagers after they realized if a teenager could defeat the curse, he wasn't all that he seemed! I had a free hour here, so went to see the art show. Pretty similar to last year, although I was taken by an illustrator who does kitsunes, and also a pastoral print of sheep turning into clouds around a floating city. Next I had to run for the bathroom, and when one was closed had to race for another. Finally I went to wait for the Carrie Fisher and Kenny Baker tribute panel and read my tablet. There was a service dog here named Red, and he watched his owner worriedly every time the person stepped away from him. The panel was nice, with funny stories from the panelists, many of whom had interviewed or met Carrie Fisher and Kenny Baker at gatherings. One man told a rather sad story about taking his daughter, a big Kenny Baker fan, to an autograph signing just a few weeks before he died where he couldn't speak and was signing autographs slowly but doggedly. All he could do was meet the girl's eyes and smile through them. There were some clips of Carrie Fisher and Kenny Baker from various interviews on YouTube. Fans also shared what Carrie Fisher meant to them. Then it was back to the Hilton to attend Victoria. This was a great panel about the series, with lots of give-and-take from the audience. John Barrowman had a show upstairs in the Hilton at seven, but when I emerged from Victoria and went upstairs it was evident there was no way to get James upstairs in the power chair on time for the event; the elevators were mobbed. Too bad it wasn't at the Sheraton as it was last time; the elevators in the Sheraton are manageable. I looked to see if there was any type of elevator at the back, or a ramp, but no dice. It was still furiously loud with a DJ hosting the racket—but I was "okay" with it tonight; no problems—and would probably be worse when we got out of the concert if we made it at all. So I told James to meet me on the corner of Courtland Street and John Portman. It took a while because he exited the Hyatt through the Motor Lobby, a route he's never taken, and then took a wrong turn and was heading for Ted Turner Boulevard (formerly Spring Street). Luckily I found him on the Life360 map and redirected him before he got too much further. So we were home early; James had some soup instead of his sandwich and I watched The Incredible Dr. Pol and cried over a cat who had to be put to sleep. Perhaps it was better we avoided the Barrowman concert: there were complaints all over Facebook about the crowd, people not getting in, and one person complaining that he couldn't get in but disabled people were allowed in. (Well, that's because they have spots saved for them.) Also reports of someone in security yelling at the disabled people waiting to get in. On the other hand, John came out in a Wonder Woman costume and sang "Copacabana." That's our guy! Labels: conventions, DragonCon, friends » Friday, September 01, 2017
DragonCon 2017, Day 1
Darnit, have forgotten to say "Rabbit, rabbit!" first thing this morning. It's supposed to be good luck and Susan Branch always mentions it.We were up at 6:15. I was hoping we might get downtown early, eat first, then register and then see Nathan Fillion, since he had only one panel first thing this morning. But between one thing and the other, we arrived at the garage at eight o'clock as usual, when registration opens, so we might as well just go there. Disability Services was just putting itself together, so we weren't on our way to breakfast until around nine. I did get to the Hyatt at 9:45, but the panel was already full, thanks, I found out later, to Hyatt security jumping the gun and loading the room instead of the convention directors. All the disabled people got shut out because they did not leave room for them. So instead I went to the "Welcome to BritTrack" panel in their new hotel. They, along with TrekTrack and the animation track, are now down on the Galleria (lower) level of the Hilton, in a nice big room, which is great, because that tiny Macon room they've had for years (replacing the even tinier Baker room they had for years before that) just didn't "do" anymore. It was so chilly in there I took my cool towel, which I didn't need now because it was nice out this morning, and put it over my shoulders. I was in the Hilton for the next three panels: "Brit TV Classics You Should Be Watching" (from Are You Being Served to Being Human), "Sherlock: History & Holmes" (about how Sherlock has been influenced by the canon and by his predecessors from Gillette to Rathbone to The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes—with some love for Watson, and especially Jude Law), and "Doctor Who: Series 10 in Focus" (lots of love for Bill, including someone in the audience dressed like her). Then I moved over to the Marriott for the panel "Sci-Fic TV 1997: From Fantasy Island to Space: 1999." These were mostly the shows that came out before Star Wars, before the explosion of SF that came afterwards: the two aforementioned programs, and things like Quark, Fantastic Journey, Lucan, Space Academy, etc. This was a fun panel. From there I went back over to the Hyatt to catch up to James at the Tor preview panel. We only stayed a half hour because we were worried about the elevator situation at the Marriott: we definitely wanted to see tonight's Atlanta Radio Theatre presentation. But we had no trouble with any of the elevators, so got there early. One of my favorite things to do years ago was to walk around "The Walk of Fame" and take candid photos of the actors signing autographs. They won't allow you to do this anymore, but since we had time we took a turn around the room. Nathan Fillion wasn't there, but we saw Gil Gerard and Erin Gray and Felix Silla, and then... I had completely forgotten Megan Follows was at the convention. (She is appearing in the series Reign.) She only had one panel, this morning, and I missed it. To get her autograph would be $40. Sigh. But I did it anyway. I picked a lovely photo of Anne looking at the blossoms on the White Way of Delight and got a chance to speak to her. She is actually very short—read "my height"—and speaks with a charming accent you don't hear as Anne. I told her how much I loved her as Anne, but also that I remembered watching her mother, Dawn Greenhalgh, in Strange Paradise and she seemed amused and surprised that I even remembered it. I mentioned her mother in Doctor Simon Locke, too. After waiting in the disability line, we were allowed to enter the Imperial Ballroom (a new venue for ARTC) for three presentations: a new adaptation of Thomas Fuller's Nairobi Jack and the Lost Gold of the Atlantimengani, a 30s-type adventure story taking place in Africa with a scientist and his snooty beautiful daughter hiring Nairobi Jack and his sidekick to go into dangerous territory to find the invisible source of the Nile; The Three Galaxateers, a humorous WWII-set story about three science fiction writers (based, as well as we could tell, on Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, and James thinks L. Ron Hubbard) who are asked to help with secret projects to end the war; and Rory Rammer, Space Marshal: "The Last Boojum!" It was a great show, but by the time it ended I was feeling terrible. I used a cane today because my ankle was bothering me and it worked on the carpal tunnel in my left arm so badly that it was hurting from my shoulder to my fingertips, which were tingling. I really just wanted to get home. The elevators were mobbed and we though maybe it was easier trying to get to the street from the Hilton. We went over the skybridge and emerged in a cacaphony of hideous NOISE. A rock band was playing in the lobby so loudly that it felt like the roof was collapsing upon me. We both took a turn in the bathroom and by the time I emerged I was shaking and starting to cry. So we went back over the skybridge and I remembered the little elevators right at the back there, the ones we used to take downstairs when the dealer's room was in the basement of the Marriott. Blessedly, except for a pizza delivery, they were empty and we got to the street level and out the door and were free to go to the garage and home. Once we were home I took Tucker out and then curled miserably on the sofa with a blanket around me nursing a bad headache. I was very glad to go to bed. Labels: conventions, DragonCon, friends » Sunday, July 28, 2013
A Corner, a Conclave, and a Coupon
Another annoying week at work. I do not know how a business does business without not knowing specific things about itself! And everything runs out on Monday. So it was better I enjoyed the weekend while I could—if I can get over being depressed about the whole situation.Traffic was utterly mad Friday night, even if I leave an hour earlier on that day. I just went surface streets to avoid the whole red mess in either direction on the freeway. I got home so late James still ended up taking Willow out. We went to SteviB's for dinner because it was cheap and we knew we would splurge on Saturday night at Juanita's birthday dinner. Afterward, despite having no coupons, we went to Barnes & Noble. Now, on the way to dinner, we had listened to a "Travel With Rick Steves" podcast I had saved because Jane and Michael Stern (Roadfood) were on; we love listening to them on "The Splendid Table." They were talking about their at-the-time (this was a 2010 show, I think) latest book, 500 Things You Must Eat Before They're Gone. Minutes after we entered the bookstore, I heard James looking for the book at the information desk. :-) I figured. The Town Center store didn't have it, so we drove down to Cumberland to fetch one there. I found a few good things in the remainder bins at 75 percent off: To End All Wars (first World War, about war dissenters), The Eighty-Dollar Champion (I had this already, as a free ARC, but this copy was only $1.25, with better photos and properly paginated), and the big, beautiful coffee-table size The Life of Charles Dickens. This was written after Dickens' death by John Forster, his best friend, and was republished for his bicentennial in a lavishly illustrated version containing novel illustrations, playbills, period engravings, etc. The dust cover on this was a bit damaged (nothing that couldn't be fixed with tape), and all for only $10. We were in bed early Friday because James was off to work on Saturday. I didn't sleep well, but got up nevertheless to go to the Farmer's Market. It was a weekend for the Artists' Market, too, and I was lucky enough to find someone just pulling out; otherwise it was SRO. Still had cucumbers, so got cherry tomatoes and also chicken salad, dog biscuits, and goat cheese. Capra Gia not only had a sleepy little goat with them, but two chickens, a couple of fat and fluffy hens. I held out my hand like I had some grain and greatly perked their interest, until the reddish one realized my hand was empty—then I was soundly pecked! Came home by Bernhard's Bakery to get a couple of desserts for the week, too. I spent the afternoon doing some clean up in the dining room. The dog's area against the wall was starting to be a little funky, so I bundled all her towels and blankets in the washer and then the dryer, and while those were scrubbing, washed out her crate with Swiffer cloths as well as the plastic mat her dishes go on. I thoroughly cleaned both dishes, and then cleared the area and scattered baking soda on the carpet and left it for over an hour. Then I vacuumed thoroughly, and sprayed the area with Lysol. I was watching Atta Girl, Kelly! in between all this. This was a three-part story that first aired on Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color in the 1960s, the story of a German Shepherd destined for the Seeing Eye. I loved this as a kid, but watched it with a little sadness thinking that most kids wouldn't be interested in the slow-moving story today. Kelly, bred at the Morristown kennels, is first given to a farm boy named Danny (Billy Corcoran) to raise. His father expects him to be interested in cows and sheep instead and is a bit confounded by this being a 4H project. This is Danny's first puppy and he is very reluctant to part with her, and she with him. In the next part of the story, it is shown how Kelly finally bonds with her trainer Matt Howell (played by Beau Bridges; she and a Labrador named Robin are his first projects, and he is closely watched by his supervisor, played by J.D. Cannon) and learns to be a guide dog; not just to work and be obedient, but sometimes to be disobedient to protect her handler. The final part has Kelly learning to adjust to her new, blind master, Evan Clayton, an attorney who was very attached to his previous dog, Jennie—so attached, in fact, that he isn't giving the dog the support she needs. In a parallel plot, the attorney's roommate, a newly-blind football coach named Chuck Wilson, gets along famously with his dog Robin and learns to love her, only for her to prove undependable after they had bonded and him having to receive another dog. (I was amused after buying this film after all these years that here, four years before they did one of my favorite movies of all time, The Andromeda Strain, together, the two men training with Kelly and Robin are Arthur Hill and James Olson.) I managed to get Willow's corner cleaned up and Juanita's gift wrapped (as well as Ken's belated gift) by the time James arrived home and we had to leave for Longhorn. Dinner was great fun; we sat at a long table and ate and chatted and watched Juanita open her gifts. From there we just went home; it was almost eight o'clock anyway. Watched a new production of The Mystery of Edwin Drood on PBS after As Time Goes By. In this one, John Jasper turned out to be Edwin Drood's illegitimate older brother, who was ignored by their father in favor of golden boy Edwin. He didn't kill Edwin, but he did kill their father, in an opium fog and embittered by having been so long ignored. We were so tired we went to bed early (read: at midnight, which is early for us on Saturday) and thus were up at nine today. After breakfast, did the grocery shopping, and then had a more fun errand: going to Books-a-Million with a 30 percent off coupon. We were mainly looking for gifts to put away, and came away with a bumper crop: two Christmas gifts and a birthday gift and a bunch of stocking stuffers. James bought himself a couple of books, and I finally bought electronic Scrabble Flash for myself since it was only $10 before the discount. We listened to "The Splendid Table" there and back, and came home to read the paper. Some goodies on television tonight: Cosplay: Crafting a Secret Identity, about science-fiction costumers, a lot of it filmed at DragonCon (I had to give Alice a fast call when I saw it, since she's designing a costume for DC this year; she's going to be a Minion!), and featuring Grant Imehara from Mythbusters. Lots of shots at the Atlanta Marriott; I'd know those carpets anywhere! Later we had three parts of Pioneers in Aviation, with lots of wonderful old photographs and vintage film footage. Labels: books, dogs, DragonCon, friends, podcasts, television, work » Thursday, August 30, 2012
How Do You Spell Relief?
I am so relieved tonight. I finished the very last order I could do today. All those extra hours teleworking paid off. Oh, I still have orders to finish, but I reached a point today that I couldn't do anymore without input from someone else. I hope this means the nightmares will go away; I could do without those!
I was also happily relieved that traffic was not as bad as I feared it would be. A lot of people take four-day weekends on Labor Day and I expected a lot of traffic jams. Slow traffic, yes, but only southbound was very bad; I guess folks were headed to spend the weekend at the House of Mouse. :-) But no rest yet! Got home, had supper, and then immediately fell into making sandwiches for the weekend before we got dressed and drove downtown to register for DragonCon. The preregistration line was super-fast like last year due to their new barcode system; maybe it was a little too fast--we had to go through the "maze" of switchbacked line in the Sheraton so fast that James was hurting pretty badly by the time we got our badges due to a combination of bone spur and plantar fascitis. Last year, since we'd already paid $15 to park, we walked over to the Hyatt and enjoyed a great show by two Celtic bands. We did the same this year, but we didn't stay long. The band this year was heavy metal and we walked out before we lost what is left of our hearing. Instead we walked over the skybridge into the Marriott, where the party-hearty had already started: we found Waldo, saw three Spaceballs walk into a bar (sounds like the beginning of a sci-fi joke), spied several Sheldon-shirts, and passed varied other costumes. Found Emerald Rose's table, and ARTC's, then walked into the Hilton and back to the garage. But not home quite so soon; instead we walked back into Peachtree Center and had dessert at Dairy Queen, then sat people-watching until we finished, then came home, to do the mundane things, like gather the trash and watch the news, and the special things, like kiss the budgie and feed the dog a cookie. |
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