Where am I

I don't belong anywhere. The Explorer is nearly packed. I don't belong here in Peoria. I'm packed and ready to go. I need to get to Indy. I don't belong in Peoria - said goodbyes to the Rhodell brewing friends weeks ago. I don't belong in Gfield. I'm in a hotel. Nobody belongs in a hotel room. Can't justify a suite but even then, that's not a place to belong. I don't belong at Elanco. I'm still a stranger in a strange place. Friendly enough but I don't know what I'm doing there. Shit, they can't even get my Elanco computer up. And my HGS one won't connect. I don't belong at H1. I said goodbye a week ago. No goodbye party. No promotion party. Some tears and quiet conversation and lots of hugs. A week ago. Thursday I was back but I was truly visiting. Nobody touched my desk. Now they had better. I don't belong at Greenfield Village. I have a three month lease. I may as well pay it all up front. I'm taking folding chairs and a card table. How temporary is that. Not even electricity for a few days (which makes a hotel attractive). I'm without a place.

I feel like I'm 20something, wet behind the ears, unexperienced, just-starting out. Odd.

Sitting in hotel in G'field knowing in the next days I should be asking a lot of questions and I'm drawing a blank. Be yourself. Remake yourself.

Today was my last day at a location I've worked for 3 years, a client I've worked with for 7 and a city I've worked in for 20+. I don't think my mind has wrapped around that I've cleaned out my desk, that I will not be going back to it. Ever. That on Monday I am going to a different office, in a different state, for a different client, in a different role, not to visit or work in for 2 weeks, but to stay. As clever as my brain is, it just can't truly grasp it. I get that I won't be working with the same folks, and the sadness that comes with it. But The New just isn't sinking in. Perhaps I should keep track of these thoughts that are popping into my head. Waking up this useless, self stroking old "blog" may be the spot. I scooted out while people important to me were in a meeting. On purpose. And perhaps pissing some folks off. There were probably a couple people that wanted a hug or a chance at goodbye. But I had said my goodbyes over a week ago when I told them I was moving on. And then individually over the time since. And I'm back in a few days for a meeting and anniversary celebration - which I hope does not become about me. So there will be more goodbyes then. I don't want to do this twice. Once is enough. I have a problem with parting. Maybe some will understand.

Baked

We broke down and quit struggling with our gas range. The oven actually. It just wouldn't heat up. Replaced the igniter. Cleaned the inner workings. Replaced the breaker feeding the oven.
So we've gone without an oven for several months. It was an easy adjustment at first. Pizza can be done on the electric pizza cooker. Some casseroles are adaptable to the oh so convenient slow cooker. Bigger things like ham and turkey could be baked in the big roaster, just like grandma used to do when her oven was packed with other holiday deliciousness. Even the toaster oven can pitch in and handle batches of fries or popcorn chicken.
But
The pizza cooker took progressively longer each month. An 8 minute pizza has become 15 minutes. Slow cookers are really that convenient for many recipes running the typical 10 hour day from assembling to consumption. Stuff just dries out, burns, or gets mushy. There's a reason grandma's turkey was half burnt and half raw. Toaster ovens are fine for one person, maybe two. Not four.
But nothing matches a big oven for biscuits. Homemade cookies. Quick breads. Cake. Dinner rolls.
We've missed those baked delights oh so much.
Within an hour of delivery, a double batch of biscuits was slide into the cavity and gravy was being mixed up on the stove for dinner. Next dinner was shepard's pie. The following morning, made from scratch double chocolate muffins filled the house with a yummy aroma. A dutch apple pie is on deck. A real pizza to follow.
Aahhh. The luxury of a working oven.
What would you make first?

The title of this blog kicked me in the butt tonight

Circles.
I thought to kill a little time catching up on one of my favorite strips. It had been since summer when I read it last. I like to read it several editions at a time. More to savor and immerse in.
Well tonight I got the unexpected. It ended.
Nearly thirty years of a best friend. Done.
A world without Opus.
Let the five stages begin.

smart kid

The girls went for a bike ride this afternoon. For just in case they took a cell phone along. About half an hour into it the house phone rings. I climb down from the ladder and answer it. It's Ember.

"Hey Dad."
"Yes?"
"If you have a minute, look to the west."
"Okay."
"Bye."
"Okay, bye."

So while I'm heading outside I wonder how many people would use a cardinal direction to direct somebody on the phone where to look? How many children for that matter?
She said "west." And she did it so naturally. She could have easily said over the Gama's house, or out the back door, or toward Kickapoo, or toward the general direction the sun will set. "West." West was the correct direction for both of us to look - me, at home, and her, a mile away in another neighborhood.
Dang that kid is smart.

Oh, there were four hot air balloons in the distance.

Nose Prints on the Door

On the carpet on all fours.
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

Is that the UPS man over there?
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

Here comes the school bus from afar.
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

There’s a squirrel in my yard.
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

What could make that odor?
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

When will they be home?
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

Could it be the family car?
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

Should I bark or should I growl?
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

Half a bottle of windex.
Dog.
Nose prints on the door.

she should blog

The stories she comes home with. Oh my.
Diane really ought to blog. Or at least comment in area blogs.
She has first hand knowledge of the ridiculous, asinine, and inspiring things that happen with the local school district. So while others voice their opinions and rumors, she actually is seeing it happen. For example school uniforms. Her school already has uniforms. If a kid shows up not in the proper attire, it's ignored. The uniforms "the district" provides to families who can't afford it (despite owning a PSP, 50" tv, XBOX360, new car,...) are laundered by the teachers in the teacher's homes. It is required of the teacher.
And then there's all the stuff that nobody hears about. Which I think somebody really needs to know. For example the kids in her part of the school do not eat lunch in the lunch room. They get whatever the cafeteria feels like boxing up at 10:30. Then one of the teachers or aides has to go get it. Rarely do the kids get something beyond warm in temperature and sometimes it could be a stretch to call it a balanced meal. The city jail provides a better meal at it's worst.
Everyday it's something that becomes a 30 to 40 minute conversation at least. Seem like enough to be worth writing about. Certainly has more to write about than I do.

Found another one.

Okay. We've had it.
I found another screw up by those jackasses at Blackhawk Construction BMC. Their so called licensed plumber placed the flange for the toilet just under 10" from the wall. There is only one toilet tank of acceptable performance and cost we can find locally that will fit that arrangement. The more common rough in is 12" from the wall.
Imagine if we tiled that wall. Or did a wainscot with chair rail. Then no toilet made would fit.
Just plain idiotic.
I'll list their screw ups some day. There's at least ten majors and maybe a dozen minors.