It's Only A Paper Rose

I'm still getting used to the differences in seasons here in the desert. In Alaska (the parts that aren't obscenely far north, anyway), October is the time to start locking windows and making sure insulation is intact and doors still fit in their frames and the heater filter is changed. Here, October is when you un-button your house, throw open the windows and let the fresh cool breeze fill your home. I know rationally that it's the same time of year, but it feels completely reversed - it feels so much like spring that it honestly wasn't until a friend pointed out that it was autumn and the seasons were changing that I even really thought "Huh. I guess it is autumn."

Either way, the changing of the seasons (or perhaps just the breaking of the heat) seems to have had a positive effect on my attitude and productivity. I've spent the last few months being fairly low-key and unambitious; playing a lot of Oblivion, working, sleeping, that kind of thing. Lately, however, I've been working on a few things - there's the exercise stuff I've been bragging about here, and I've been doing more artwork (mostly papercrafting as that's what I've had the supplies for - I may start sending out handcrafted cards in the coming months instead of store-bought) and some housework-y projects too.

I'm hoping that some of it will soon translate to writing as well. But even if I wind down again and all I get out of this sudden burst of energy is a few cards and a somewhat cleaner house, I think I can deal with that.

Four degrees this morning, and not much warmer during the day. Just about everyone in town has frozen pipes, and several mains have burst. I suppose I can understand the thinking - if you're building in the desert, it doesn't really make sense to spend a lot of time properly burying/insulating your water line. But still, given the places I've lived, I can't help but be amazed at how everything here just falls apart after one particularly cold night. (Not even any snow, fer chrissakes. Also, I feel the need to point out that in Juneau it's been forty degrees and raining the last couple of days. How is that fair?)

Needless to say, our nearly-century-old house was in the "frozen pipes" category. At the recommendation of the landlord, we tried pouring boiling water over the exposed parts of our pipe line, but only managed to burst our meter, which then proceeded to spew water all over the place. The technician was kind enough to come out and fix it at eight o'clock at night in single-digit weather - I'll have to write the company a nice thank-you email.

Meantime, we're getting by with the usual Alaska dry-cabin methods. The landlord lives right up the way from us and managed to get the faucet in his workshop unfrozen, so we've been hauling five-gallon buckets of water down and using them. Washing one's hair in a bucket of water isn't exactly convenient, but it sure beats the alternative, and at least it was warm. And given that parts of the county are having gas outages (apparently the colder-than-average weather is putting strain on the interstate pipeline - gee, who would've guessed?), I'm just grateful that we still have electricity and heat. I comfort myself that, come June and 95-degree weather, this will all seem long ago and far away.

In that same positive spirit, I finally got around to uploading some more pictures for my Why I Love Bisbee album, featuring some entertaining finds from the various antique/consignment shops around town. The Sperry-UNIVAC Zippo in particular struck me as something that would be of interest to certain persons on my friendslist.

And since it seemed like the kind of day that deserved a ( Not Safe For Mum ) book to relax with, I decided to oblige:

( Picture and drink recipe below. Mothers may consider themselves advised. )

I'm also trying to decide if a blog post I made critiquing a movie a couple years back might be something I could turn in to a story. Not sure yet - at the very least, I have a fair amount of reading up to do on 80s culture - but it's a thought.

It's 28 degrees outside right now. In southern Arizona.

How much bloody sense does that make?

I'm a little disappointed. We've had a bit of hail, and some flurries here and there, but nothing like the 5 to 9 inches the weather report was promising. Still, the wind's been fairly spectacular, and the blizzard warning doesn't expire for another five hours. So we'll see.

Meantime, I got some great shots of the view off of our deck, which (unusually) is partially covered in clouds. I'll have to get some shots when it's sunny too, for comparison.

My new camera has a nifty feature called "Sweep Panorama", where you put the camera in place at one end, press the button, and then sweep it across the view; it then takes all the shots and stitches them together automatically for you. It's a very cool idea, and its implementation is probably about as good as can be expected in a point-and-shoot, but there's definitely a price to pay in quality - likely as not, it's working with very limited onboard memory and can't hold that many high-quality shots and stitch them all together at once. Still, it's great for getting a general feel for a whole scene; you can always take more detailed single pictures of individual segments.

Note that you can click through to see the full-size on all of these.

( A Demonstration: View From The Porch )

( And a couple Christmas pictures for fun. )

Went outside just now to see if I could get some pictures of the snow with my new camera.

Unfortunately, I think I missed most of it - it was only a few flakes drifting down to begin with, and they ceased all together while I was outside. Still, got to play with the sweep panorama mode, which is pretty darn awesome.

Meanwhile, my hands were actually numb when I came back in, after being outside without gloves for all of five minutes. That hasn't happened for a good couple years, now...

We made it to Sierra Vista in one piece.  The travel went smoothly enough, but it was hard to enjoy because I had a big knot in my chest from listnening to Dexter yowl, scratch, and generally go nuts the entire way.  Two 2.5-hour flights, a 1.5 hour layover, and a 1.5 hour car ride.  I'm surprised the poor guy wasn't hoarse.  (Leo, on the other hand, was remarkably chill - I guess either the Valium helped, or he was just too plain terrified to do his usual mental-patient-throwing-himself-against-the-walls-of-the-carrier routine.)  We got them here eventually, and they proceeded to spend the entire night making as much noise as felinely possible so that we knew exactly how unimpressed they were with air travel/car rides/Arizona/the new digs/the narrow windowsills/moving in general.  Needless to say, we didn't get a whole lot of sleep, although it was worse for Brian than me, as he had to start his new job the next day.

One day later, Dexter's pretty much calmed down and seems happy enough exploring the new place.  Leo, however, has found a hiding place where we can't find him, which worries us some.  We know he's got to be around, though - he hasn't gotten outside and I saw him dashing between rooms briefly earlier this evening - so if he needs to be an invisible cat for a while until he's more comfortable with the new place, I guess I can understand that.  There have certainly been a couple of times I'd have liked to curl up where no one else could find me.

ETA:  Found him - there's a hole in the inside part of the wall where the plumbing from one of the bathroom sinks goes in, just big enough for a cat to jump through.  We'll have to find some way to patch it.

Incidentally, I'd forgotten exactly how bloody expensive it is to (re)stock a household - we've spent more than a grand on just basic items like bedding and cookware and cleaning supplies and dishes, and we haven't even begun to look for furniture yet.  I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of Craigslisting in our near future.  (Still cheaper than the seven grand it would've been to ship everything, though.)  Many thanks go once more to the lovely guests at our housecooling party - their generosity made the process much less painful than it could have been.

We rented a car for a couple of weeks until the Audi makes it here.  The guy was going to give us a Chevy Aveo but offered us a discount on an upgrade to a new Mustang, which we decided to take - although more because Aveos are crappy cars than for any love of the Mustang (we test-drove a 2006 a few years ago and were extremely unimpressed with the build quality, noisy ride, sound system, and various other non-features).  It ended up being well worth the extra expense, however, because the 2010 Mustang is like the 2006 one built by Japanese engineers - still a lot of the same aggressive American styling cues, but much nicer materials, a far quieter engine, surprisingly good soundproofing, a much nicer stereo system, a cool retro-look interior design, and generally a much higher standard of build quality.  I'd heard rumours that Ford was trying to clean up its act with regards to its passenger cars, but I hadn't realized exactly how stark the difference was - I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really enjoying driving it.  It's just the basic hardtop V6 model, but I'd easily recommend anyone looking for a midsize car to give it a look - it's nice and roomy (the backseat is decent-sized for all it's a coupe), the engine's got plenty of power, and the styling's a lot more interesting than (say) the comparably priced Chrysler Sebring (to say nothing of the Sebring's myriad other faults).

Sierra Vista itself has yet to really convince me that it's a place we're going to want to stay for very long.  Admittedly, it's only been a day, but the various message boards I was reading weren't kidding - this place is like Strip Mall/Big Box World.  I guess when you don't have to build slanted roofs to deal with snow/rain, a box is the most efficient shape for a building, but yeesh - talk about blandness in architecture.  Even the place we're renting, which is quite nice on the inside, isn't much to look at, just...boxy.  The real question will be the people, I think - places to live are all well and good, but friends are what make them worth staying in, interesting architecture or no.  So we'll give it time...we're here for a year, and if we're unimpressed at the end of it, there's nothing stopping us from packing everything into a U-Haul and heading someplace else.

I really miss Juneau right now.

Oh, and one last thing - all of you whom I've been telling about the 72 degree sunny weather?  It's all lies.  Today was about fifty degrees and windy, and supposedly it's going to get down to 28 tonight.  They say it's a cold front moving over the entire Western US, and that it's blizzarding in Wyoming and Colorado right now, but I see through their claims - the whole "come to the desert for the nice winter weather" thing is one big joke meant to lure unsuspecting northerners down here.  Don't be fooled!

I find myself wondering if, now that we've decided to leave, Juneau's decided to shower us with as much of its awe-inspiring weather as it can muster. Literally. This is the third huge rainstorm in as many days. Usually they're fairly short-lived, or only over one spot, but we just drove all the way downtown, had dinner, and came all the way back, and the whole time it was pelting down rain along the entire way.

Audi with heated seats for the win. (Not that I'm going to mind not needing those in the future.)

It was a quiet weekend, for all the general stress caused by the premonition of large-scale upsets. Friday night I had a lot of nervous energy, but an evening spent dancing and chatting with Andy helped quite a bit. Saturday we mostly hung around the house (the awful weather did nothing to encourage us to do otherwise), and I did a lot of cleaning. Sunday I got the grocery shopping done and we did laundry, which is always something of a mammoth task as both Brian and I tend to put it off until we're essentially laundering our entire wardrobes at once. I think (as my mother used to warn me would happen when I was younger and hated housework, and I never believed) the cleaning helped me stay calm and centered, which was a nice feeling to have. (Sadly, it doesn't seem to have lasted, as last night I was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Hopefully that won't be the case tonight as well - tea and bath ahoy!)

I don't think I ever got around to mentioning on here that about a week before getting married, Monica introduced me to a friend of hers at the Viking - a real, live Scotsman named Franky (he was even wearing a kilt when we met). He works on one of the cruise ships that shows up here once a week, and he's quite a sweetheart, so he and Brian and I have taken to hanging out on Sundays when he's in port. Last week he invited us for a meal aboard the ship, and holy crow - they feed you like royalty on those boats. I had some lovely roast lamb, Brian had a seven-ounce filet mignon (and that was the petite cut), and Franky had a ribeye that very nearly overflowed his plate. The side dishes were impressive, too; the asparagus was perfectly cooked with a rich butter sauce, and the sauteed mushrooms divine.

One of the things that I noticed really made the meal for me, however, was the presentation. I don't just mean the way it looked (although each dish was quite artistically designed and I applaud them for it), but the fact that each course was just the right size. The soup course was a tiny cup of a very rich and tasty bisque; the beefsteak-tomato salad I ordered was three (large) slices of tomato with vinegarette and associated garnish; the main course varied from medium to huge (depending on what you ordered) with side dishes that were just the right size to savor without filling up on them; and the dessert, while perhaps a bit larger than I would have picked, was delicious enough to be worth making the extra room for. I hadn't even realized how much the general restaurant trend of "serve gigantic portions rather than lowering prices" irks me until I sat down at a place that did it right - I can't tell you how lovely it was to be able to enjoy each course without wondering where I was going to find room for the next, and to be pleasantly full at the end of the meal without feeling like I was going to burst. (I suppose I can see the advantage of the gigantic-portion view from a marketing standpoint, but really, I would think that they would make more on the appetizers and desserts they could sell to a non-overstuffed clientele than the measly few dollars extra they can charge for a huge plate.)

Incidentally, I would be remiss in my praise if I didn't also describe the apéritif I ordered from the bar. Given the size of the cocktail selection, I couldn't very well let the opportunity to try something completely new slip by, so I ordered something called a "Starboard Peach Martini", which, according to the menu, was made from Grey Goose L'Orange, creme de peaches, pink grapefruit juice, and passion fruit syrup. It was quite possibly the girliest drink I have ever ordered at a bar, but here's the thing - it was excellent. Sweet, yes, but far from cloying or overpowering; fruity, but not artificially so; not harsh or boozy tasting at all; and a pleasant orange-pink color. Combine that with the uber-classy presentation - in a single-serving shaker, poured over a sugared orange peel - and I didn't feel like I was in Juneau anymore. (The most complicated cocktail I've ever ordered at the Viking was a cosmopolitan, which got me well vodka topped with that lethal red mix...served in a beer glass. Seriously.) Once we're settled down again I'm going to have to track down some of those ingredients and see if I can divine the magic behind it.

We're having Franky over here for dinner next week; we'll have to make him something super-nice in return. Fortunately he's one of the least judgmental people I've ever met (I can see why he and Monica get along), so as long as we have some good beer and something reasonably delicious on the menu I have a feeling he'll enjoy himself just as much as we did.

Woke up this morning to discover a metric assload of snow on the ground, with another load coming down. Schools are closed, federal offices are closed, city offices are open but nonessential employees are encouraged not to come to work (which is good, because the DOT hasn't had time to plow our street and I don't think we're going to be able to get out). I feel a bit guilty about missing work, possibly because I know the crews are working beyond overtime to deal with this despite already being in the "walking dead" category. But getting stuck trying to get out there isn't going to do anybody any good.

So instead of worrying, I think I'll enjoy the unexpected vacation day. And possibly bring in some cookies for the crews on Monday.

Shoveling my car out of a good foot-and-a-half of snow and successfully getting it out onto the street - oddly satisfying.

Damn, but my arms are going to be sore tomorrow.

* * *

Most surreal thing I've ever seen? Broken clouds, with blue sky behind. Heralding the end of the snow? Not likely, but one can hope.

* * *

Nice thing about working at the city Streets department - no matter how long or hard it's been snowing, the yard and parking lot is always plowed when you get in to work.

* * *

Me: Only six messages this morning. We must be losing our touch.

Mike {laughing}: Nah. Everyone's just too busy shoveling their cars out to bother calling us.

Me: I'll take that.

It's snowing like crazy outside. Should be a pretty busy phone day here at work. I wonder what the proportion of "You haven't plowed up here yet" complaints to "You've plowed and left a berm in my driveway" complaints will be?

Now that Brian and I aren't working at the same place, I was a tad concerned about what to do when going in to work - Brian leaves an hour earlier than I do, and no one's really in the office for a while after that. Fortunately the downtown grocery store is only a ten-minute walk away (and that's in this kind of snow), so I just hung out there and had some coffee and read my book.

While we were in Anchorage, I finally broke down and bought myself a nice coat. I've been wearing my periwinkle Columbia dual-layer windbreaker-style coat for three years now, and while it still works, it's not exactly the height of fashion. I'll still have it for skiing and whatnot, but thanks to Banana Republic having a sale on all their outerwear, I managed to snag a bright red wool trench coat for half the price of my Columbia jacket (and significantly less than the price of a similar one from L.L. Bean). Brian even found an adorable grey fedora to go with it, and my mother stuck a sprig of holly in it for a festive touch. I've gotten lots of compliments on the ensemble. It's good to feel like I look nice, especially since Brian recently invested in a lovely brown cashmere topcoat. Now we can both go out and be mad stylin'.

(Yes, I'll do my best to get pictures. No, I don't know when. Hush you.)

Justin came over last night, and we all watched the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore version of Bedazzled. Mmm, British comedy. Even though it was a tad dated (as you'd expect from a movie that came out in 1969), it was pretty hilarious, thanks in no small part to a fantastic performance on Peter Cook's part as The Devil. (I'm about 110% certain that there was a significant amount of influence there for the character of Crowley in Good Omens, especially given that both stories feature an order of nuns dedicated to a St. Beryl.) Admittedly, it didn't have Elizabeth Hurley and her truly awe-inspiring wardrobe from the 2000 remake, but Raquel Welch had a pretty good turn as Lust, and the script was far cleverer.

The power appears to be out all over town; we've got generators here, so it's no big deal for us, and it might be contributing to how quiet the phone's been so far this morning. Amusingly, the only FM station in town that appears to have power is the country station, and they've gone off the air (probably to conserve gas in their generators). So now we're down to our Hometown Radio AM station. It's a little creepy, scrolling through the whole band and not hearing anything but static, especially when you don't have a window in your office to confirm that the outside world is still there.

Just got an update over the aforementioned AM station - apparently the so-far-hour-long-outage has to do with multiple problems coming up faster than they can resolve them (trees on the lines, transmission towers having trouble, etc.). So the crew here aren't the only ones who are running around with their chickens cut off, as BD says...