Sleeping with Santa

« Kaisla sleeps through her first meeting and photo with Santa, a cherished holiday tradition in the US. »

After what seemed like an eternity in limbo we finally moved into a house on Friday. It has been a long, stressful journey from packing and selling the house in Helsinki beginning in early September, my mother dying rather unexpectedly about the same time, living in a Residence Inn for two months, buying a car and driving in MA again, searching for a suitable home and buying one, not to mention being pregnant, giving birth and dealing with a newborn throughout the process. I think Jarkko and I have managed to squeeze in every major life event other than marriage and our own deaths into the past three months. Finding ourselves in a house filled with boxes of stuff that had been savaged by the US Customs/Homeland Security Department and the movers and a box springs too large to fit up the stairs was the crowning touch. I think I would be having a nervous breakdown presently if two of my sisters weren't coming to help us get settled in next week as it's nearly impossible to do anything with a baby who is frequently hungry and insists on being held by me most of the time.

And it is the holidays. People generally go bonkers around this time of year even without all the added extra stress. We had to go by the Home Depot hardware store yesterday for a few things and that was a shopping nightmare bar none given the crazed last minute holiday shoppers driving around in their SUVs.

All things considered though it has all gone remarkably well. The staff at the Residence Inn were so incredible to us that I find myself actually missing being there and my early morning coffee, newspaper and chat with the guy at the desk. Our real estate agent who, after we backed out of the first house we made an offer on, made sure we got the second one and has just been terrific all around. Friends here who saved our unprepared asses by lending us a few essentials for the baby since I went into the hospital the day we got the car and were planning on shopping for a few things for the yet-to-be-born Kaisla. And the neighbours who dropped by to welcome us to our new house and neighbourhood with chocolates, flowers and an adorable "Welcome to your new home" artwork from one of their toddlers. It's a bit overwhelming coming from Finland where many neighbours never said hello and avoided eye contact even after four years of living there. I don't know how to thank all these people enough. Even in the best situation, moving at this point was an insane proposition and I can't imagine how much more unpleasant it would have been without them.

Someday Kaisla may ask what it was like when she was born and we'll both probably glance at each other with a "where do we begin" look and show her the picture of her sleeping through her first visit with Santa. We took her to the mall to wait in line for an hour and I just kept looking at her in the pram sleeping so peacefully wishing for a less chaotic moment in our lives so we could really enjoy the fleeting time when she is so small. Hopefully things will quiet down now and life will return to some semblance of normal in a month or three.

Happy Holidays/Festivus/Christmas/Whatever and Happy New Year to each and all.

permalink Ω 25 December 2006, Boston

Slow Cooker

« Maybe this will explain what I've been doing for the last 10 months :) »

After 10 months of baking, we have a new dish: Kaisla. :) One of the first things to go when tired is the ability to string words together into sentences and complete thoughts so I haven't been doing much in the way of writing here or replying to email. To those who have sent email, please accept my apologies as I think about replying to the backlog every day and somehow manage to fail most of the time. Sleep deprivation is my constant companion. :)

In addition to the fun that comes with being host to a parasitic growth who takes over the space your vital organs once enjoyed, we also moved back to the US since Jarkko got a great job offer and though I had mixed feelings about returning I was happy to leave Finland. At some point I may elaborate on why I was, and still am, happy with our new location. Everything happened so fast that we barely had time to pull up stakes and say good-bye to everyone. We flew out of Helsinki only days before I wouldn't have been allowed to fly anymore so there wasn't a lot of time for much outside of moving and getting moved.

It is rather strange being back in the US, all the little things like the sucktastic mobile network and stone age banking system that you forget about when you leave, but living in Finland has made me appreciate being back home in ways I never would have expected. In spite of the terrible state of US politics, the people are so incredibly friendly ( in MA! ) which is both annoying and wonderful at the same time.

I'll likely be baking again once we move into our new house next week and I splurge on a Wolf stove I've been dreaming about for a long while. I will try not to gush too often over the baby, but I also swore I wouldn't buy her anything pink or cute and look how well that worked out. I suppose I'll have to go to Germany to find little black baby clothes and Docs for toddlers.

So...we're alive, well and back in the Hub. And soon I may try to form complex thoughts and sentences and put them here and possibly some pictures, too. Until then, you might find me in the aisles of the internet gushing over cute baby stuff that Kaisla is too young for but I get all squishy over anyway. Hormones. Fear them. :)

permalink Ω 14 December 2006, Boston

Microserfs 2.0

« The noble beast, Otava, watches a ferry push through the sea ice. »

These days, I think the dead lead more thrilling lives than I do as, other than sleeping, eating and going to work, I've just not had the energy to do much of anything in the past few weeks. The highlight of my day is walking Otava and going to the puppy park where it can get pretty 'exciting' now that it's spring. I think much of the hormonal fervor is due to a very large percentage of both male and female pet dogs are not neutered/spayed in Finland as they are in the US. I'm not sure if it is an issue of cost or an issue of people wishing to breed their pets, but I don't remember HB going this berzerk with the twice-yearly rush of hormones. I mean, what do you do when your enormous dog jumps the fence to rumble with a male dog of similar size whom he used to play with rather well and then cowers at a dachshund who is snarling and biting at him? It's spring, even though it's snowing to beat the band.

What's the deal with Helsinki real estate prices lately? One 80-ish sq. meter attic apartment is asking 650,000 euro. It's not in a jugend building or anything fancy like that and the tiny circa 1930s lift doesn't even go up to the floor the apartment is on. I just cannot fathom who is buying these fantastically overvalued apartments on salaries that are, on average, well below 50,000 euro per year (before taxes). It makes me wonder if and when a real estate 'correction' will come as either the prices will fall thereby decreasing equity overnight or the interest rates will rise (you can't get a 15-30 year fixed rate in Finland) and there will be a lot of sales and foreclosures for those who purchased at the limit of their available cash. Even for those who could afford to buy these overpriced places with cash, why do it?

One bit of deeply depressing reading over the weekend was a Seymour Hersh column, The Iran Plan, in The New Yorker. I suppose I had given myself some comfort thinking that the US was either smart enough not to or fiscally unable to consider invading Iran but this piece makes me want to buy a bunker somewhere far, far away from the Middle East and Israel. Too many wackos pushing for the apocalypse with fingers on the button. What ever happened to the checks and balances that would prevent this sort of insanity?

On the bright side, Douglas Coupland will be releasing a new book, JPod (Microserfs 2.0) in Mid-May. Supposedly Microserfs meets the Google generation. I loved Microserfs so this should be an equally entertaining read. The book's website also mentions a 'special edition' of the book that is boxed, signed and packaged with a special editon of cube figures, presumeably of the characters from the book. I wonder why the book hasn't gotten more publicity as I only found it while browsing the humour section of Amazon.co.uk and it was on the 6th or 7th page of the upcoming titles.

permalink Ω 10 April 2006, Boston

Spring Nausea

« In the absence of actual spring we have to pretend. »

In spite of the animals behaving as though it is spring and the return of the retarded turning the clocks forward at a latitude where it does little good in either direction, it's snowing and still cold in Helsinki while it's nearly 80F back home. I don't mind winter, but after more than six months of darkness and cold, I'd like the warm weather to hurry its ass up before the dark and the cold return. It's hard not to wonder if it's going to be a year without a summer while watching it snow on the second day of April.

I've been sick as a dog all last week and this weekend. I'm constantly nauseated, tired, unable to sleep well and have been mostly just sitting on the sofa staring into space wishing I could sleep and that my stomach would find something better to do. Even looking at pictures of food makes my stomach flip flop. Being sick along with the crappy weather as well as finding out that there won't be a mämmi eating contest this year has put me in a rather glum mood. In a desperate attempt to cheer myself up, I ran the logs from the web server through an analyzer and was quite entertained by some of the search phrases. Aside from altogether too many 'porn', 'naked' and 'sex' queries attached to various combinations of words, there were a lot of odd weather folklore and scary cooking questions. Some were just plain odd.

• jello wrestling and customer service in philadelphia - Uh...how do these go together and how did google think that this web site was what they might be looking for?
• the boss beer drunk pictures powerpoint - Nothing like having a powerpoint slide of your drunk boss ready for Monday's meeting.
• see n say penis - a new toy for kids?
• do i look like a people person magnet - on the internet nobody knows you're a dog
• zit cake recipe - eew. I suppose something with pink marzipan and whipped cream could work.
• cookie dough and anal leakage - if ever there were two things that didn't belong together, this might be them.
• forbidden secrets egyptian method of penis enlargement - they remove it, wrap it until it's larger than an elephant dick and stick it in a canopic jar.
• description of mr potato head as the ideal man - only if he comes with a dildo attachment
• flour salt oil sugar water baking powder make rear big fat ass? - yes
• a recent survey discovered people who text with right hand masterbate[sic] - So what do the lefties do?
• banana peel used as floorwax - What?
• how the fuck do you use a caulking gun - Very, very carefully.
• is it true that blackstrap molasses help to regain color in grey hair - no
• satan was seen building a snowman - Hell is a cold, dark place people.
• what material make up chicken feet and how to make it crispy for food - Who cares? Just deep fry it in oil and it'll be finger lickin' good!
• prunes for constipation how to use - Insert 5 of them rectally and wait.
• something funny or unusual about the culture of tallinn estonia - They have great candied nuts.
• can i used vegetable oil with my fleshlight? - Uh....sure, guy.
• can heroin be emulsified in gasoline - You gotta wonder where that question is going.
• pugs life span with a smoker in the house - longer than the smoker unless the pug shreds the smoker's cigs.
• how to make raspberry buns with children - children aren't nearly as sweet as raspberries so puree as you would with berries and add extra sugar.
• what recreational activites does north dakota enjoy during the months december through february? - drinking, fucking and sleeping. In that order.

And here's one just for Ignatz: John Waters' no smoking in this theatre leader from 1983. Ah, the memories. :)

Note to self - Pinhole Day 2006 is 30 April this year. Just in time for Vappu.

permalink Ω 3 April 2006, Boston

Medical Mystery Porn

« Avanto, a.k.a. a hole in the ice for swimming after sweating in a superheated sauna. If whisky, sauna and swimming in ice cold water doesn't cure what ails you, nothing will. »

I've recently become very addicted to the TV series House starring Hugh Laurie which has begun showing on Canal+. Aside from the soft-hearted doctor with a protective misanthropic shell, I find it ironic in this day and age, where trained medical staff are in short supply all over the world making it nothing short of a miracle to get more than a few minutes of a doctor's time, that this sort of medical mythbusters show is a popular format. Quincy worked on dead people, not live ones, so it's a bit of a new angle to focus purely on live people who have acute symptoms. In reality most medical facilities are so overworked and understaffed that figuring out the obvious is a difficult task, much less the esoteric and elusive. Porn draws you in by appealing to your imagination to fulfill your deepest desires, but only inside your head.

I've had a chronic headache for more than a month now that feels like I have a bench vice squeezing my head inwards from the temples. I went to the dentist again and had the second dentist tell me that the first dentist in the public sector must not have been very good as he noticed the problem with the tooth that had been bothering me just by listening to me describe the problem. He spackled my tooth which cured the toothache, but did nothing to alleviate my headaches. I never thought I'd ever be disappointed to be denied a root canal. I had my glasses and eyes checked just to be certain my new glasses are not causing the problem. Nope. So I watch House and fantasize about seeing a doctor who might have much more luck in figuring out what is the cause of these horrible and constantly present headaches which aren't bad enough to hide motionless in a dark room, but make me feel dazed and tired with a touch of ice pick through the back of my eyeballs. Soon I may consider self-trepanation in lieu of hoping for a cynical diagnostician to find a cure.

And while Finland is still moping about losing to Sweden in ice hockey on Sunday, Sweden also beat Finland in noting the arrival of bird flu which ultimately means that it is already here, and likely has been here since last summer, but it hasn't yet been found. I haven't seen any of the medical mythbuster shows take on the scary prospect of an avian flu pandemic likely because it is quite a bit more serious and real than losing an arm to an allergy or getting bubonic plague from a frozen indian corpse thawing in a mountain meadow. Before the presence of the virus has even been confirmed in Finland, Finnish farmers of game birds are apparently threatening to go around the forests and shoot all the wild birds in a futile attempt to protect their own stock. Just imagine how crazy and panicked things will get when people start dying. The WHO has been cranking up the tension on this potential pandemic for a couple of years now and yet it is difficult to imagine what will happen if and when it really comes to pass since the amount of information we have been told about the disease is rather limited aside from the "Where in the world is bird flu?" reports detailing which country has found bird flu in the past week. Warm weather will be here in a few months and with it all the birds who flew south for the winter. I'm already imagining birds getting shot and clubbed en masse in the streets. Are people prepared for the worst-case scenario?

permalink Ω 1 March 2006, Boston

Lawnmower Man

« Grandpa, who was proud of his modded lawnmower and jungle-worthy pith helmet. The double-exposures are kind of interesting as is his solution to faster mowing. »

Some days, system administration makes a career in landscaping look good.

permalink Ω 8 February 2006, Boston

Petrosexual

« This isn't Stockmann's Halloween window, but it could have been. :) The theme was California children having a party...or something. The boys were dressed as pirates, too. I'm not sure if people who have never been to the states and/or lived there get all their impressions from the imported TV shows believe that we all live, dress, eat and behave like the folks in TV-land, but I've been away so long that I'm starting to wonder which version of America is right or if they all are. »

I finally bought tickets home for the holidays after much procrastination and masterful subliminal avoidance tactics. Now begin the nightmares filled of fun scenarios like having the plane turn back because I'm on the no-fly list or being sent to Gitmo upon arrival. Perhaps a bit irrational, but it has been three years since I've been home and I am both eager and reluctant to go as it may be awkward, much like seeing a friend you've lost touch with after a few years. When you're an expat, you're a bit estranged from both sides of the equation since you were not born in the country you live nor are you living in the country in which you were born. You don't have a choice but to keep trying to assimilate in the country you live, but time passes and you loose touch with the daily news and ephemera from home which accrete and distinguish you from the tourist, cryogenically frozen man of mystery or overly astute kids on the internet who could probably list more trivia about America than most natives, but wouldn't know that 12th street in St. Louis has a different name, Tucker, used only by the locals. Landscape and language are both integral to identity and when you are separated from them physically, and possibly mentally as well, your identity in that landscape and language changes, though it doesn't disappear. It's sort of like Austin Powers being thawed out in the 90s after being put in cold storage in the 60s and the hilarity that ensues afterwards from his out of context adventures. I really need to dig up my copy of Bill Bryson's, I'm a Stranger Here Myself: Notes on Returning to America After 20 Years Away, and re-read it soon.

A few random odds 'n ends....

The GAO has released their report on the 2004 election and though the mainstream press hasn't picked it up, Powerful Government Accountability Office report confirms key 2004 stolen election findings, makes for predictable and depressing reading.

Kallio Vice - If Miami were a lot colder and had more problems with booze than with pastel fashions and handguns. In this vein, on a slow news day a reporter from the BBC has a night out in Helsinki tagging along with the cops and looking for drunks. He writes that it took until 10pm to spot their first drunk which makes me wonder if it was a slow night or if the cops were avoiding them as they're generally around downtown anytime of the day or night. Helsinki gets another superlative for its collection: Largest 'drunk tank' in Europe.

And some books of the strange, odd and interesting variety.

• The Planets by Dava Sobel ≈ Essays on each of the planets by the same author who wrote Longitude.
• Giving Thanks: Thanksgiving Recipes and History, from Pilgrims to Pumpkin Pie ≈ Looks like a good book, especially with the recipe for creamed onions.
• The World in a Phrase: A History of Aphorisms ≈ Aphorisms are one of the finest forms of the English language.
• The Elements of Style Illustrated ≈ Apparently a remedial edition for the people who don't function without pictures. Looking at the illustrator's self-description on Amazon is both funny and sad given the book. On the upside it's hardbound.
• Slam Dunks and No-Brainers: Language in Your Life, the Media, Business, Politics, and, Like, Whatever ≈ Language has a posse and they are coming for pop language.
• The Great Stink ≈ The Victorian sewers of London.
• The Home Spa Book for Dogs: Nose to Tail Treatments to Soothe the Soul and Age-Proof Your Canine Companion ≈ Who knew my home could double as a canine-care retreat?
• Cooking the Three Dog Bakery Way ≈ For your dog's after-spa and yoga liver pâte.
• Bones: Recipes, History, and Lore ≈ For the dog who loves bones. :)
• The Complete Petrosexual ≈ A brilliant 'how in the fuck did that get published and did they just say furry fashionista and faux paws?' moment. Hurr.
• Planet Dog: A Doglopedia ≈ Looks possibly interesting and useful, but it better have an entry for "Owned: You."

permalink Ω 2 November 2005, Boston

Deliverance

« Otava looks at me with boredom as I try to take a photo of him. »

Otava will turn 1 year old this coming Friday Sunday. It seems impossible that time has passed so quickly. The giant breeds remain puppies until they are 18 months so, though he is already about 70kg/155lb, he may grow a little bit more before he is finished. I'm thinking of making him a meat cake and having a little party to celebrate his solar year of life. He was born the day after HB died and I fancifully imagined early on that he might be HB reincarnated but, no, Otava is very different in spite of sharing many common breed traits and quirks that I've come to be unable to live without.

We went to dinner on Friday with a friend and a colleague of his visiting from the US and, as the evening wore on, my sense that I will experience extreme reverse culture shock when I go back home for a visit became rather acute. The guy was nice and all, but the only things going through my mind were; when does he breathe, can the people outside on the sidewalk hear him and how am I going to survive a few weeks of this? The first year or so I was here, before I started getting to know people, I'm sure that the few friends who suffered an evening with me having a chance to talk after spending most of my days alone thought of me in much the same manner. It's likely, too, that there are Finns who have defected to the land of freedom fries only to return for a visit and have a similar effect on their family and friends. I just have this feeling of dread that it's going to be absurdly overwhelming to reenter the US for any length of time.

Do Finnish vendors know how to party or what? A few of us from work are being taken up north for a few days for some wining and dining while the vendor shows us some of their new wares. I thought that this sounded pretty cool, in spite of my being the only female in the group of guys, but then there came the mention of cabins and canoes and ATVs. Uh, what? Cabins?! I was thinking a nice hotel and maybe some theatre or movies were going to be on offer but, no....it's all sauna and mökki. I swear, if I hear banjoes or hog calls, I'll run towards the nearest airport. Nothing like a bit of Finnish Deliverance to sell hardware.

permalink Ω 3 October 2005, Boston

Balticum, Baltigo

« The stairway to K. »

We spent the weekend in Riga, Latvia which was a nice break from Finland and I have always been very curious about the Baltic states. The food was good, the Jugendstil buildings both shabby and beautiful and the people enigmatic. It's somewhat sad that cheap air travel and the internet have pushed many destinations around the globe towards a sameness no matter where you decide to go. This isn't to say that you won't find differences, just that they are harder to find and often a culture hangs on through the local traditional foods and the language. I bought a Latvian cookbook and am finding the similarities in the cuisine and slight variations in ingredients to be a strong cultural connection to Finland even if the languages are worlds apart.

Forever the masochist, I started Finnish classes again today. I wanted to take the conversation course but it was filled already so it's back to another semester of "Kysy naapurilta!" It often feels like the circus of the futile, especially when the teacher breezes through some rather broad grammatical concept and then tells the students to do an exercise in the book by the seat of their pants. Minutes tick by as many look around the room to see if they are being slow or if everyone is as confused as they. Maybe I'm getting better at this game as I didn't bother thinking about the tic-tac-toe of forms and endings and just wrote what I thought sounded right and did pretty well. Still, it is at times like these I wonder how I managed to spend so much of my life in a classroom.

permalink Ω 21 September 2005, Boston

Blank

« Another beautiful, but eerie, sculpture by Sakari Peltola. »

I've been working hard for the last week or so to use all the lingonberries that Jarkko, his father and I picked the Sunday before last which has meant a lot of jam making and baking of pies and cakes. I'm tired, uninspired and in need of a bit of a break. I do little more than sit at my computer and stare blankly lately. It's time for a few days off, outside of Finland even. Hopefully I'll snap out of this season of torpor.

permalink Ω 16 September 2005, Boston

Suburbia

« Welcome my children, smile for the camera. Jesus gets tough on crime. »

There's nothing like starting your week by watching the DVD of Team America with drunk friends, where puppets get away with a few sexcapades that I'm not sure would even make it into hardcore porn (I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in the censor's initial viewing.), and then riding the bus out into the suburban wasteland of apartment houses and graffiti that is Espoo for two days of class on the new features of Solaris 10. The class was given in Finnish though, thankfully, all of the class materials were in English. One bit of comic relief came when I was surfing the net in the back of the class and asked a colleague next to me how to say/spell mölkky and I heard 'mulkku' instead. :) Hilarity ensued when suddenly a number of pop-up windows started clogging my workstation and he told everyone else in the class how the funny foreigner can't hear ö/u/y properly and got porn instead of a lawn game from google. :)

Jarkko has gotten the 'let's move to the burbs' itch after seeing one too many friends' homes lately. I'm not altogether enthused by the idea as I disliked suburbia intensely in the US and it's even less appealing in Finland since the city centre is alive and well. I'm trying to remain open to the idea since there are certain possibilities, like a proper darkroom/studio, that come with a bigger home with a yard, so I'm waiting to see what comes up on the block that might convince me to move. When looking at real estate in Helsinki it blows my mind that 100sqm apartments in Vuosaari are selling for about 700k euro when a similarly sized apartment in a Jugend building in Katajanokka sells for only a little more money. What could possibly make an apartment on the edge of town worth that kind of cash? Suburbia is about getting a house and a yard, not an apartment in an inconveniently located remote location. You also hear quite a bit of crowing in the newspapers and the fashion rags about Finnish/Nordic design, etc. but looking through the interior photos of the homes for sale I'm getting the distinct impression that such design exists only in magazine photos and possibly homes of the young with wads of disposable cash.

I'm dead tired lately and haven't answered most of the email that requires something more than a simple one-sentence reply. When I'm tired, the ability to write or communicate well is the first to go. I only just noticed the page on Flickr that allows you to see the 'recent activity' on your photos which is how you can see who is commenting and adding tags and such. It only took, what, five months? I need a holiday now that everyone I work with has returned from five or more consecutive weeks away from the office. *yaaaawwwwnnn*

I'm so tired that last night when I went out for a smoke at about 1am I didn't notice that Jarkko had removed my house key from my keyring to replace the key I keep on Otava's leash as the old one had gone missing a while back. So, when I went to open the door I had no key. Joy. I rang the bell. Nothing. I rang it again, nothing. Jarkko is upstairs playing World of Warcraft so I figure maybe he doesn't hear the buzzer that could wake the dead...in Kaivopuisto. Finally, I notice that the tiny red power light isn't on. More joy. So I walk into the street and gaze up at the windows and think about what I could throw at the window to get Jarkko's attention. It must have been amusing for the taxi drivers passing by to see someone trying to throw a packet of cigs at an apartment window...and missing by a mile. They make this shit look so easy in the movies. I didn't want to throw the keyring at the window as with my luck I'd likely break the glass. Finally, after 10 minutes in which I had begun to contemplate my options of sleeping out on the front steps, Jarkko came to the window and noticed that I was locked out. :) The door intercom was back on this morning so I'm still wondering if it was broken or if the silence obsessed old farts in the building have decided that there will be no door buzzer service in the building after 11pm or something.

permalink Ω 24 August 2005, Boston

Swedish Merkins

« Three big balls on a tower back behind Kiasma and the train station. »

Today I found that someone made a gorgeous blue 'prince' cake using the princess cake recipe and instructions I put together. I'm just so excited over seeing that someone found it useful that I feel like a dork. :)

My Hästens bed porn arrived with the post yesterday. I watched the very nicely filmed and narrated tour through the process of making one of their fine beds, but they kept showing wholesome workers playing with blobs of curly horse hair that were reminiscent of giant rectangular-shaped merkins. I'm not sure if I'm cured of my desire for one of their mattresses though.

We finally got around to trying out the new Valion baari in the Kamppi metro terminal and made the mistake of sharing only one korvapuusti shake as it disappeared a bit too quickly. The sandwiches were also very well done. The shop fueled my desire for a set of Arabia's new KoKo dishes since all of their products are served on white and blue KoKo dishes emblazoned with the 'kukkamaito' design.

And the odd book find of the month is...The Helsinki Chronicles of Dr. Louise C. Love And Mr. P.. Looking for more information about the book revealed that the author is a retired surgeon living in Southern California who, for some reason, wrote this book and dedicated it to an animal shelter and Finland. I'm not sure I get the connection but maybe $22 to charity wouldn't be such a bad expense.

Seal Beach, Calif., June 17,2005 The Seal Beach Animal Care Center (SBACC) is proud and honored to host a signing launching the publication of Arthur Axelrad's long awaited book, The Helsinki Chronicles of Dr. Louise C. Love and Mr. P., Six Adventures in Finland's Capital, written under his nom de Mac, Arthur M. Alexander.

Enriched by over ninety photographs, with a frontispiece by SBACC's Nancy Eugenio, and extensive notes by Olen Sukkela Poika and appendixes, the book is a set of six mystery adventures taking place in Helsinki, each giving the reader a mini-tour of this beautiful Nordic capital. Although Dr. Love is the ostensible detective, the real brains belong to her four-legged companion Mr. P. Mr. Axelrad has spent the last four years on this project and the book is intended as a gift to Finland, with royalties dedicated to the Finlandia Foundation"

Finally, the daily moment of zen for expats in need of reasons not to go home; Americans are Dumb, 3 reasons each and every day. Depressing reading.

permalink Ω 21 July 2005, Boston

Wonders Never Cease

« Panoramic view of the boat club near Rajasaari back in March when the water was still frozen enough to walk on. Judging by the 10C weather forecast for the next week or so, maybe winter is on its way back. The blue cast must be due to the film being mis-processed as slide film since I don't order prints and scan off the negatives. I suppose I'll just stick to using B&W film with the horizon camera. Click on the photo for a larger version. »

The office is quiet these days, so quiet in fact that the lunchroom is going to close for the month of July since the few of us who will be left here wouldn't be miserable enough without also having the only food available within a 15 minute or more walk go on holiday as well. I suppose we'll just have to take long lunches in search of food. The crappy rainy weather combined with just about all of Otava's puppy pals going on holiday with their owners has made for a petulant wound-up horny teenage puppy who has become quite annoying at times since there are few outlets for his abundance of energy. He has also figured out what girls are and which end is appropriate for his attentions which makes me think he must be brilliant since so few dogs seem to get the right gender or end.

Anyone thinking that Tiger's Dashboard has no purpose other than hoover all available memory might want to have a look at the Asteroids widget. It's brilliant and likely violating copyrights of all sorts so get it before the big foot letter spoils the fun. At 60k, I think it's the smallest program on my powerbook and perfect for killing time while watching much more enormous software packages install.

One of the cutest nerdy things I've seen in a long time is a Periodic Table done out of cupcakes. It might have looked better had they made the icing a bit more distinct in colour to make it easier to distinguish the various families of elements but it's pretty cool nonetheless. If I go on a cupcake jag, maybe I'll make a similar one for the periodic table of dessert. :)

It would seem highly improbable that a book titled Cookie Sutra: An Ancient Treatise: that Love Shall Never Grow Stale. Nor Crumble. would get published but wonders never cease. Yes, a book filled with fucking cookies, literally. It'd be more tempting if the book came with a few cookie cutters for the various positions, um shapes. And, a riveting tale told through pictures, Everything I Ate: A Year in the Life of My Mouth, which will soon be followed by Everything I Ate: The Other End. Yes, I fully expect people who buy books filled with pictures of what a guy ate everyday will buy a book filled with pictures of the resulting turds. Hey, that one has corn!

permalink Ω 29 June 2005, Boston

Torpor

« Enjoying the sunshine at Vanjanlinna where we had a 'Summer Seminar'. I put a few pictures from the event in a Vanajanlinna gallery. »

The summer solstice is today so it's all downhill from here in the sunshine department. It's funny how quickly you can get tired of and annoyed by the nearly constant sunshine when it's all you wished for back in November. The doldrums of summer are here and Finland is about to go quiet for the next four weeks as the entire country goes on holiday. I, however, will be at the office...the downside of being the new guy.

Aside from finding that The Bark Magazine has a new blog, Otava's new bed arriving and finding a particularly challenging Finnish cake to obsess on making this week, it's nothing but largesse, little energy and ennui. Welcome to the torpor zone.

As an aside, if by chance the creepy drunk guy on the sidewalk who asked me if I was Elaine and then proceeded to follow or 'sneak', as only a stumbling drunk could, behind Otava and I reads this; either smile and identify yourself or bring your [sober] homies to kick my ass next time. :)

permalink Ω 21 June 2005, Boston

Need Sleep

« Keilaniemi and Keilaranta in Espoo. The buildings for Kone, Elisa and Fortum reflect on Keilalahti on a calm day. It's a strange and rather lifeless corporate office park. The Nokia WHQ is just to the left and not in the photo. »

I don't know if its the return of the 20+ hours of daily sunlight or needing a new bed, but I can't remember the last time I woke up feeling like I actually managed to get a few hours of sleep. I go to bed feeling tired and I wake up the same way even though I don't lie awake staring at the clock for hours on end. I'm surprised that I manage to function at all. It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to buy a new bed since the old mattress sags a bit and, since it's an American mattress, I can't buy sheets here to fit it and the ones I brought along are getting a bit tatty.

Otava's leg continues to improve and we took him to Rajasaari, a.k.a. dog island, over the weekend which made him so happy that he ran around the beach in near ecstatic glee. This likely wasn't the best plan as he stressed the joint more than he should have and is now a wee bit gimpy, but it was so nice to see him behaving like a puppy and gleefully bounding into the water and running around on the soft beach. On the way to Rajasaari, I saw a woman dragging a child around in a harness with a leash which made me giggle as I thought that the line distinguishing between child and pet had just vanished except that my child was much more cute and furry. Maybe a bit more drool.

I finally ordered a bed for Otava after having to choose one from about 150 different combinations of size, shape, cover and stuffing. I had bought one for HB that he refused to lie on and instead flumped down the hard, cool bathroom tiles so I didn't bother to get one for Otava, but he has made it clear that wants a bed so I hope he and his aching joints like the one that will arrive in a week or three. Since he's a St. Bernard, I'm pretty certain that as soon as he has his own bed, he'll never lie on it. :)

permalink Ω 30 May 2005, Boston

The Euphoric Season

« Suomenlinna at sunset. »

A busy week and nice weather make for a dull time around here, even more dull than my 'cookery' and 'flikr crap photos' that my dear friends here complain about. :) I think we've already had more nice weather in the past few weeks than we've had in the past two years combined so the season is more manic than usual with everyone doing everything all at once, except cleaning house and sitting in front of the computer any more than one has to. :)

permalink Ω 28 May 2005, Boston

Lift and Duck

« Power lines on mustikkamaa. »

Aside from the cantankerous lift at work and the black eye that has gone from red to purple to yellow, I have also sported a huge knob on my head from bumping my head countless times Sunday on the pygmy height range hood in the kitchen which proceeded to be topped by a giant zit. I must also be providing great comedy for the building security guys as I can't get the bunker door to the machine room open, even when gripping with my hands and putting both feet on the wall. People in the park enjoying the weather get free comic theatre when Otava, after a week of not getting to play while his leg heals, tries desperately to play with a familiar puppy and pulls me along like a rag doll. I feel like I could be part of the circus freakshow or maybe a stop on the Helsinki by bus tour. All I need now is some bright spandex and a catchy name.

Black sausage will never be the same again as there is Musta Makia Salmiakkimakkara. I like salmiakki and sausage, but together? I'm willing to try anything once but I'll have to find a package of them first.

There's a new Helsinki outdoor map that now has markings for dog parks [yay!], rug washing areas, skate ramps, swimming pools, miniature golf, cooking/grilling facilities, etc. along with the bike paths. Of course, all the usual places I stopped to get a copy of it were completely out of stock because it was mentioned in the paper on Sunday and demand has exceeded initial production. There is an online version of the map, but it still has the 2002 version instead of the new one. So, hopefully I'll be able to get a copy before winter. Hrmph.

And I'm obsessing over the princess cake this week since the pastry cream pissed me off and I've been finding more information about it around the net. I've noticed many of the local bakeries use the 3rd layer of cake as the top over the dome of cream which makes the cake more stable and easier to cut as well as reduces the amount of filling and marzipan required. So I'm going to try making another this weekend for Jarkko's birthday with the cake dome, a lighter maitorahkaa and cream filling, low sugar/just fruit raspberry jam and overall less sugar and see what happens. I'm going to get foam corners for the range hood this time. :)

permalink Ω 18 May 2005, Boston

Foggy Recollection

« A bit of street art in Hakaniemi that looks how I feel today. »

It is on days like today that I wonder why a breathalyzer for bottles and cans of alcoholic beverages has not been invented yet. I suppose that such an object would remove all the fun of getting bombed out of your gourd. I need one of those things to be smarter than I am when drinking. I woke up with my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, a bump on my head and a foggy recollection of the night before. Yes, we had an office party last night and I ignored my better judgement. Good party, what I can remember of it. Bad Hangover.

Reminder: Pinhole Day, 24 April 2005.

permalink Ω 1 April 2005, Boston

Chapped

« A red granite statue in Gamla Stan, Stockholm. I vaguely remember it being marked with a date around 1914 and a name like 'sea god', but I love the pervy smirk. The sun came out for about five minutes as we were killing time in Stockholm waiting for Otava to arrive and I'm glad it was while we were next to this rather odd piece of statuary. »

Is it Friday yet? Every system has decided to be a pain in the ass this week and I've been daydreaming about collecting the parts required for building a giant electromagnet. The rather cold weather we have had lately has left me looking like a dry skin superhero (if such a superhero existed) who could destroy opponents by having all their skin crack and bleed. I'm going to have to start wearing gloves indoors just to hide my red, cracked, and bleeding sandpaper hands.

In Finland, I usually call the season very loosely named 'spring' the grit season since you don't really notice any warm weather or lack of snow, but the grit from the months of gravel being ground into a micro-fine dust is omnipresent. There's nothing like a grit tornado whipping down the street, passing by/through you and afterwards feeling the patina of grit in your mouth. If the amount of grit that Otava is tracking into the house already, before the thaw, is any indication we're going to have a very, very gritty next few months.

Otava has been particularly restless and petulant the past few days. I noticed his chew toy had some blood on it so I had a look inside his mouth and it seems he is loosing his baby teeth. I imagine that the process isn't any more pleasant for puppies than it is for humans so I'll cut him some slack when he is feeling generally cranky, pissed off and decides to gnaw on me. When the other puppy owners in the dog park ask what Otava has destroyed, after listing their own puppy's scorecard, they look at me rather incredulously when I tell them that he hasn't wreaked any havoc yet. Yet.

Easter must be approaching as we noticed the Fazer Mignon Eggs in the grocery last night. I should get a packet of rye seed and grow a plate of grass [love the mämmi dog turd. :)] since all our plants died last year in the great darkness that was the ulkoseinäremontti and a spot of green would be welcome. Repopulating all the empty pots on the window sills is an idea, too.

permalink Ω 3 March 2005, Boston

Big Yellow Nuts

« I don't suppose that squirrels play fetch with tennis balls tethered to trees. »

The bad news: Signe Brander's photography book sold out on the first morning it was available and, when we checked back today, will remain so until another printing comes along in mid-February.

The good news: Canal+ now features The Daily Show on weekdays with a 1-day lag. :)

Otava continues to be adorable and is a very good boy with only one accident in the house so far and sleeping through most of the night. I remain a bit of a sleep deprived zombie.

permalink Ω 23 January 2005, Boston

One of Cups, Six of Needles

« A tree of light on the Esplanade. Sadly, the snow is gone but the light remains. »

I had to hike down to the doctor's office very early today to give urine and blood samples for various tests. Joy. It took over an hour for the blood for 4 different vials to be drawn since I have evil tiny veins in my arm and low blood pressure in spite of having a salt lick at my desk. They've always been like this and I usually have to hope that the nurse won't resort to the veins in my hand which are much easier to tap, but much more painful. It tends to keep the vampires at bay but now I look like a hardcore heroin shooter with bruises and holes.

The interesting part about the urine sample drug screen is that everyone on the management/HR foodchain at work not only asked me multiple times if it was acceptable, but the nurse today even seemed apologetic. It's SOP in the US for most jobs involving computers, root and responsibility, so it didn't register on my radar at all. I was just grumpy about having to be within 100 feet of a medical office, especially when hungry, needing to pee and lacking enough coffee to make me vaguely human. I'm told the test isn't that common here yet, but it was rather curious to see how involved in the process you are made to be from watching the sample be prepared for transport, labelled, numbered and sealed in the packet destined for the lab and, if I understood correctly, I will also have to personally deliver the results of the analysis to HR. In the US, you pee in the cup and cruise on down the road never to hear of it again or so you hope.

While I was chatting with the pokémon hunting for a vein I noticed that among the vials, usually colour coded and labelled with an acronym, was an HIV screen. I've worked with human liver cells before and had regular HIV and HEP A/B screens fairly regularly so it didn't really bother me, but I thought it was an interesting contrast where the drug test is seen as an intrusion of privacy but the unannounced HIV screen was not. The US is the complete opposite as HIV screens are an extremely sensitive issue, voluntary and often anonymous. I think the blood tests are part of an overall full medical examination that I'm rather glad to have since it has been a really long time since I've had a physical and now that I'm getting older, maybe it's not such a bad idea to visit a doctor once in a while.

permalink Ω 17 December 2004, Boston

Shuffle

« I've always wanted a discoball for the livingroom.... »

My muscles still ache from the sähly game on Thursday but sleeping late did wonders for restoring my cognitive abilities somewhat after a week of feeling rather dull. I need to stock up on ben gay and start getting to bed before 1am. We found out on on Friday that we won't be bringing the new puppy home until the 16th of January instead of the 2nd as we had originally hoped due to the import restrictions. *sigh* The timing wrecks our holiday in Sri Lanka that was scheduled for March since it would be too soon to leave the puppy with a sitter so I guess we'll buy one of those sun lamps and pretend we're somewhere tropical instead.

I'm still getting more email from freaks in the US, the best quote from them this week was "How would you like it if we made fun of your country, tried to influence your elections? If you hate it, we love it. That is why Bush got re-elected." which amused me considering that the person couldn't have possibly read much before invading my inbox. I just can't figure out why people are doing this and I'm wondering if there are some church groups or something who are told to search the web for people who voted for Kerry and harass them since the email often comes in bunches. Bizarre.

Random linkage: Photomo's Egypt series is really well done and Finnish Nature Photos for the look of Finland outside the cities.

Random thought: The bar known as Con Hombres has a sign outside that says that it's a gay bar. Aside from the name, the beefcake logo and the rainbow to drop the big hint, is the sign really necessary? I wonder if some of the clientele complained that it wasn't obvious enough or something. Perhaps piping showtunes through speakers on the sidewalk would be a more subtle calling card. :)

Janne mentioned a meme earlier in the week that, given my sleepy daze from the week, entertained me last night a lot longer than it should have. The idea was to set iTunes on shuffle and pick the first 10 songs it played. I have a lot weirder mix of musical genres than I had previously thought.

• Jucundare jugiter - Lumen Valo
• Raised Up Family - James Taylor
• Wait for the Magic - Al Jarreau
• Voçê Vai Ver - Joao Gilberto
• You'll Have Time - William Shatner
• Wasted Time - The Eagles
• This House is Empty Now - Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach
• Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love) - Louis Armstrong
• Bananeira - Bebel Gilberto
• Harry Flowers - William Orbit
• It's Only Love That Gets You Through - Sade
• 1975 - Paul Oakenfold
• Missing - Everything But the Girl
• Destiny - Zero 7
• Night Life in Twin Peaks - Angelo Badalamenti
• Halcyon + On + On - Orbital
• I Grieve - Peter Gabriel
• Not Tonight - Al Green
• I'm Not in Love - 10cc
• Soon I'll Be Loving You Again - Marvin Gaye
• You'll Be Dead Soon - Ernie Cline
• I've Seen All Good People - Yes
• Blue in Green - Miles Davis
• Walking the Night - The Style Council
• Spybreak! - Propellerheads
• The Nearness of You - Norah Jones
• 8-3-1 - Lisa Stansfield
• Shout - Tears for Fears
• Only You - Yazoo

permalink Ω 12 December 2004, Boston

Keeping up with Finnish or Buffer Overflow

« Sticker art girl with a long neck. »

I managed to survive the first week at work. There is always a period of feeling awkward and exposed when you first start working somewhere as you get to know the people you work with and find your way into the daily routine. The work is very familiar even though I'm a bit rusty in places and there are products in use that I've not worked with before. I have some large datacenter experience that might be helpful as well. The most challenging part of the job is, and will likely continue to be for a while, keeping up with conversations and meetings in Finnish. I understand quite a lot, but I have to concentrate on everything that is said. My vocabulary isn't all that great, but even if I only get half the words, context will usually help me figure out the rest. It's like working a cryptogram in real-time. My coworkers have been very nice in speaking Finnish to me even though I'm sure they find my replying in English somewhat annoying and, hopefully, I'll get over my self-consciousness about speaking Finnish sometime soon. Most of the people speak English very well which makes it too easy at times to be lazy. I keep hoping I have a Thirteenth Warrior experience and just start speaking it at some point and quip "I listened" when asked how I learned it. One person has such a perfect American accent that had he not said he was Finnish, I would have pegged him as being from somewhere in the Midwest. I hate that when people who aren't from the US have a better American accent than I do. :)

The atmosphere of the office reminds me so much of WU and BBN that I feel pretty much at home already. Everyone is some sort of academic who found their way into computing. I had to stand up and introduce myself at a meeting on my first day where I was told I had to describe my hobbies lest I be asked about them repeatedly. It seemed a little odd until I started to figure out that people really do value their hobbies and are interested in yours as well. I was really excited to meet a coworker who is involved with a student photography club and lab since I didn't want to build my own darkroom with an enlarger or buy one of the new photo printers since they generally suck at B&W printing. I'm also going to try and play sähly, Finnish floorball, with the company team once a week. I'd better look up the word for "incoming!" before hitting the arena. :)

Perhaps one of the most obvious differences between working in the US and here is the general approach to the amount of time you spend in the office. At BBN, 80 hours wasn't an unusual week and if you were on call, 100 or more. Here, people go home at a reasonable hour and I've yet to notice anyone sleeping under their desk. You're even expected to take your holiday time. What a novel concept! I had 5 or 6 weeks of holiday time per year when I left WU, but I never really had the chance to take it so that I had a giant check for 16 weeks of accrued holiday time along with my last paycheck. Holiday time works a little different here as you accrue time much like you do in the US, but you need 6 days of holiday time to take a week off from work. I am told this is a vestige from the 60s or thereabouts when the workweek was 6 days rather than 5. The employee manual also had some interesting holiday tidbits such as a day per annum for moving house and if your 50th or 60th birthday falls on a weekday you get the day off. I have a few years to go before that happens. :)

And, the breeders have supplied us with 2 more pictures of puppy cuteness. :)

permalink Ω 4 December 2004, Boston

Be careful what you wish for...

« Valotalo by Jouko Kärkkäinen in the Forces of Light show in Plague Park. »

So, in one of those cases of 'be careful what you wish for', I have joined the ranks of those who wake up in the darkness and find their way to an office somewhere in the metropolis. It always sucks being the new person having to ask where the coffee, bathroom and coke machine are as well as having that dazed and glazed look as you're trying to remember the names of everyone you were introduced to. There is no shortage of stuff to do so I doubt I'll be bored. I'll have to try to keep from inflicting pictures of puppy cuteness on everyone, too. :)

On one of the metalink sites yesterday morning I noticed modern pooch which is a new doggie blog that could be a bit of light entertainment. On the side of not so light entertainment there is finland for thought [or lack thereof], the new blog by the inimitable "Mr. X", the American Libertarian who, unsurprisingly, finds plenty to gripe about in Finland. I encourage the Finns to abuse his lack of clue with enthusiasm. :)

permalink Ω 1 December 2004, Boston

M is for....

« Look and then look again. Those who paid attention in biology or anatomy classes will see the clever twist. I walked past it myself only to stop 3 paces on and smile back at it. »

We had a lot of fun yesterday helping Jarkko's sister move into her new apartment that has a gorgeous 7th floor view. It began snowing at some point during the day and looked as though it was just a flurry until it really started dumping snow towards the late afternoon. I think we wound up with nearly a foot/30cm of the rather wet marshmallowy snow. I always love the first snow or three, especially if they're a good and proper snow. By the time February rolls around and you've trudged through the snow, ice and grit for months it loses its appeal. Of course, you have to wait until May for it to warm up and melt away.

We also went wandering out into the snow last night which was an adventure and more than a bit slippery. I took one especially amusing photo that I'm hoping will turn out when I develop the film, hopefully, later today. I also must continue to be in awe of the women who trot over the ice packed sidewalks in shoes I couldn't manage to walk in on a clear day. I'll stick to my flat-soled boots I think. :)

permalink Ω 21 November 2004, Boston

Puppies

« One of these four cuties will be a new addition to our lives in late December. :) »

After this depressing week, I thought I'd share some happy news that we're expecting a furry four-footed ball of Saint Bernardy goodness in late December. We lit a candle yesterday for HB at the cemetery and quietly informed him that we will always remember him. I had sent email to a few breeders and found myself looking at puppy pictures and feeling guilty about it. I was reluctant to bring up the topic with Jarkko but a good friend of mine said, "Dog people need dogs and dogs need dog people.", and egged me on. Mari must be obeyed so I complied. So, we are going to go visit the pups in couple of weeks and prepare for the arrival of one of them in our lives. The world may be going to hell in a handbasket, but there's nothing like the big wet nose and wagging tail of a dog to make everything seem friendlier and, well, more hairy. :)

I found this comparison between Saint pups with a chihuahua to be pretty amusing. HB used to traumatise a neighbour who had a teacup version of one of these dogs that was just a wee bit bigger than a sewer rat which he frequently mistook for a squirrel or a rodent. I couldn't blame him for the mistake since the first time I laid eyes on the dog I thought it was a rat, too. I don't suppose my laughing every time he got that bewildered look on his face when he realised it wasn't a squirrel yet wasn't willing to accept it was a fellow canine helped either.

Doggie cuteness can be found at The Dog which is apparently pretty popular in Japan. The calendars are pretty adorable with some excellent photography and have some unusual breeds like Bernese and Newfoundland along with the far more popular breeds who are always on everything. Amazon carries all the calendars.

The Jugendsali has a new photo exhibit, Bed Sit, which features the work of 3 photographers trying to capture the youthful zeitgeist on film in an almost Lomo-ish style. Free, interesting and worth a visit.

Through November, the Goethe Institute is featuring a photo essay of Finnish and German grillis [ Nakkikioskikulttuuria ] that I've just got to go see since the grillis are as close to a White Castle and its belly bombers that I'm going to find around these parts.

The Sanomat has a flashy 24 hours in Helsinki web presentation that has some good photos taken around Helsinki at all hours of the day and night.

And, lastly, Just Coffee Art. Art made from coffee almost as thick as coffee in Finland by some Americans of Finnish descent. I found the Kalevala themed works quite lovely. I wonder if they get a serious buzz when working with the coffee.

There, I have exorcised the gloom for now. Just keep thinking "puuuupppieess...puuuupppiiiess..." and watch out for that tin man.

permalink Ω 7 November 2004, Boston

November cometh early

« A faded sticker of Dumbya wearing a shirt emblazoned with "I *plane* NY" on a building downtown. Americans who aren't willing to believe that the world isn't very positive about the US or its citizens these days simply aren't paying attention. »

So I finally received my absentee ballot for all the good that it will do to cast a vote in MA since it's already a pretty solid Kerry state. I've stopped really caring who wins anymore as it seems like a circus without much point. I'll vote, but with an air of the resigned to the cold truth that it doesn't really matter.

After some confusion over the burial arrangements for HB, we've settled on driving him up to Tampere ourselves to have him cremated. Monday evening when Jarkko came home he said he had talked to the people at the Vet's office who said it might take up to three weeks to get his ashes back at which point I started crying as it had been a long and difficult day cleaning the house and I had felt awful leaving him on the floor of the room where he died. Three weeks just seemed horribly long for him to be in cold storage among strangers. Jarkko called them back and asked them to keep the body while we figured out what we wanted to do. I would still like to bury him properly, but he's big which presents too many logistical problems and many of the pet cemeteries don't accept such large dogs unless they're already cremated, so cremation it will have to be. At least we'll be personally taking him up there. I can't figure out why it's so far away or why they make so few trips to Helsinki when 1/5 of the country lives here and not in Tampere. We'll get his ashes back in a few days and then we'll decide what we'll do with them.

permalink Ω 13 October 2004, Boston

The Saddest Day

« HB getting a morning scratch from Jarkko while I was making coffee and grabbed the camera in time sometime in July. »

I thought that my father's death would have prepared me for the pain of losing HB, but I don't know that anything could have at this point. I am completely and utterly devastated. We got away for the weekend, which was nice, but all we thought about was him anyway. I had a frightful thought while driving that what if his spirit came back to the house looking for us, would he think we left without him? He came into my life on the 12th of November 1991 so we had almost 13 years together. We decided to have him cremated, yet I somewhat regret us not taking the body ourselves and giving him a respectful burial.

Today was the worst as there was no cold, wet nose to nudge me out of bed, no one to walk, no one to make breakfast for, and none of the sounds I grew so accustomed to, only silence. I had to begin the emotional task of cleaning up his things and putting them into the attic. I felt guilty removing all the hair and slobber as it's like I'm erasing what little there is left of him. I started to sob when I was scrubbing his bowls and stand. The house is clean now and a lot more empty. There's a huge hole in the kitchen where his bowls, stand and drool mat used to be. I can't pass it by without thinking about him.

I keep hoping that he felt loved and that he understood why we put him to sleep. I also try to keep remembering the good times like the time he caught a squirrel and carried it home with his tail so high and proud or the time he was riding in the car to Boston with my mother giving him fries along the way and then complaining about his gas or walking up to the pit in Rockport on the beautiful wooded trails behind the house or walking along the beach or .... I know deep in my heart that it was his time to go, yet I can't help thinking that we should have done more which is silly since he wasn't eating and he just couldn't walk without pain as the medication wasn't helping anymore. Rational thought vs. the emotional pain of letting go don't mix.

There is one thing that has provided some comfort to me and that is something a woman said to me while walking sometime 2 years ago when she heard how old he was even then; "They know when they are loved." I will probably make a photo book of him when I feel ready and we'll light a candle for him on All Soul's Eve as feeble attempts to remember him well.

People often ask if you plan to get a new puppy as a way to make conversation but I feel like I want to hit these people. I don't know if we'll ever get another dog, but if we do it will be a while since the grief will linger. There was a guy we'd see every few days on our walks who recently lost his 16 year-old dog and who would greet HB very enthusiastically. We saw him on Friday and I blurted out the bad news and he paled, looked sad and almost haunted, and scurried off quickly after giving HB a few pats. Now I truly understand why.

And...I've got a few new photos to post when I get the enthusiasm. I don't have a lot to say right now and I don't want to wallow in my grief online, so it may be a bit quiet for a while. A note to family; I'll be biting the bullet and flying home for Thanksgiving.

permalink Ω 11 October 2004, Boston

Peace

« HoneyBear. A great soul and best friend. We miss you already. »

permalink Ω 8 October 2004, Boston

The Bell Tolls

« The slightly creepy hands next to the Kekkonen memorial pool. »

So tomorrow/today is the dreaded day. My most sincere thanks to all the thoughtful people who have sent email and snail mail cards. I keep hoping that it will all go well and that neither of us will lose it before it's all done. Afterwards, we're going to get out of town for the weekend so we won't have to sit in the quiet, empty apartment thinking of him. Life just won't be the same without him.

permalink Ω 8 October 2004, Boston

Boing

« The bridge over the railway tracks near downtown. The wild west typeface is a fun comic book parody. »

We decided on Wednesday that we should make the appointment for HB with Dr. Death and so next Friday will be his last day. It's a difficult decision to make, but he hasn't been eating well, if at all, and he really has to struggle to walk even around the corner lately. When the doctor asks you if you'd like the body to be cremated or if you'd like to bury it yourself it's a bit like being asked, "paper or plastic?", after spending an overwhelming hour of shopping in a US grocery. It's just not a decision you're prepared to make after all the mental energy spent just getting to that point. Much of the coming week will be spent either with HB or trying to get my mind off of Friday, e.g. tomorrow's seemingly implausible, but irresistibly odd "The Winter Circus' Greeting to the Baltic Herrings" dance at the opening of the Herring Fair. I wish they had a herring poetry slam as I would feel compelled to read Conrad's ode to herring.

permalink Ω 2 October 2004, Boston

The Gloom Report

« A ferry bound for Tallinn looks more like a Christmas tree than a boat. »

The week lived up to my estimation of suck. HB had a visit with the vet this morning and, well, his days are numbered and few. It is somewhat bizarre when you start to discuss the process of putting a pet, a member of the family, a friend you've had for 13 years since he was a pup, 'to sleep'. I was relieved to know that the procedure shares much in common with the human kevorkian protocol as there are three stages instead of the vision I had of them going right for the injection in the arm which HB would be utterly traumatised over since the last time anyone got near his arm with a needle for a blood sample, he flinched and it took 2 weeks of daily visits and cookies to get him to allow the same again. So, I'm in a bit of a darker mood than I was at the beginning of the week and haven't been answering my email much either.

And, aside from the gloom report, there's a cool photo exhibit and camera sale over at my favourite Leica shop on Uudenmaankatu, EP-Kamera. Ukko Heikkinen's lovely photos taken around Helsinki with a Lubitel 166 camera are on display M[12-18]-Th[11-17] and EP is and has been selling a stock of Russian cameras, mostly FEDs as I recall, for 25 euro per kilo, yes you read that correctly, kilo. I don't need any more cameras so someone should go buy them all soon before I do something rash.

permalink Ω 8 September 2004, Boston

Shiny happy people

« Krishnas on the Esplanadi. Shiny happy people. »

I always used to associate Krishnas with airports and vegetarian food. People smile, point and giggle at them as people dancing around and chanting might seem odd in places where dancing around and chanting are reserved for the drunks or the insane, but since living in Finland I've grown rather fond of them because they smile at everyone in a place where smiling at strangers just isn't done. People make fun of you if you're too happy and dancing and people think you're a freak if you're a cynical grump so it's no wonder most people take the stonefaced option.

It's going to be a crap week as, aside from all the other things getting me down, it is likely time to discuss the kevorkian option for HoneyBear with the vet. And, I'm one year older today, too. Yay. Maybe I should go join the Krishnas.

permalink Ω 7 September 2004, Boston

Rings and Crowns

« Tommi and Adele in an engagement photo I took for them back in June on Suomenlinna. They got married over the weekend in LA. Congratulations to them both! :) »

If ever there was proof that there is no such thing as a kind and benevolent creator, teeth would be the prime example. Anyone who scoffs at this hasn't ever had an abcessed tooth or possibly finds pleasure in such horrific pain. I once had a tooth go south on me late one night when I was working in the herbarium looking up different specimens and chowing down a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream with nuts and chocolate. My tooth hit a nut and I hit the ceiling. I spent the rest of the night in some tragicomic attempts, like trying to bathe the tooth in Anbesol by standing on my head only to nearly swallow it and suffocate, to quell the excrutiating pain until morning arrived when I could call my dentist. In the morning, I looked like a chipmunk who stuffed a large golfball into my cheek when I went into work. I got a quick appointment with the endodontist, a.k.a. Dr. Root Canal, and I don't think I've ever before been so happy to see a needle and a drill in the vicinity of my oral cavity in my life.

Over the past week or so I've had similar twinges of pain in another tooth that have been giving me chronic headaches. Of course, being a stranger in a strange land it makes me even less enthused than usual to go visit doctors of any kind, especially the kind that have implements of torture. I haven't been to see a doctor of any kind in 3 or more years and I suppose it is from growing up in a medical household where you had to be coughing up a lung to miss school much less get real medical attention. The cobblers children have no shoes as the old saying goes, but not having the first clue about how to get an appointment or where to go is a real deterrent, not that I went much when I did know who to call. So, Jarkko made a surprise dental appointment this morning that gave me 90 minutes to get there which is likely the only kind I wouldn't wuss out on going to because I didn't have enough time to rationalise an excuse and, after a good poking about and an x-ray, it turned out to be nothing. I'm not sure which is worse; going to the dentist and finding out that you're about to buy him a new Jaguar with the goldmine of cavities he found in your mouth or going to the dentist only to be told that your pain is a mystery. I was happy to skip on out of there in a short time but teeth have a way of getting their revenge come hell or high water. Damn teeth.

permalink Ω 25 August 2004, Boston

He likes to watch

Every evening, when the old gimpmeister is feeling up to it, we slowly make our way over to the park so that he can lie on the grass [or snow] and roll around for a while and then watch the rest of the world going by. He used to do this when he was younger, too, but now he is simply content to be an aloof observer. Now that the weather is getting warm again, the park gets pretty busy in the evening with kids having picnics, walkers, joggers, bench bums and, of course, people walking their dogs. I don't blame HB for wanting to hang out for a while as sometimes it gets pretty interesting. It's also is a great way to avoid doing my inscrutable Finnish exercises for a little while.

I've been getting to know the residents in the neighbourhood by their pets since I don't know their names. I don't know why it is that dog people always remember the names of the dogs, but not the person's on the other end of the leash. A neighbourhood I used to live in had so many dogs that people were commonly referred to as "Spot's Dad" in conversation since it was likely that it would be more recognisable than "Mark". The personality of the human becomes subjugated by the charm of the cute, furry puppy with the wagging tail at their feet. There are quite a variety of people and dogs around our block of pavement: There is the nice older man with a pipe and a wee white puffball who has never barked at HB but often gives him a frightened look now and then when his eyes are visible through all the hair. He's the kind of man who is secure enough in his masculinity to have a frilly girly dog. It must be the pipe and the grey hair that does it. There is another guy who takes his shepherd mutt for a walk on his bicycle with the dog running along behind him. I often see him in blue coveralls which might mean he is in a trade of some sort. A year passed before he ever sort of nodded in my direction to acknowledge HB and I. There are the two sheepdogs who are aggressive and seemingly never on the leash but impeccably trained. I suppose the owners have to remember to feed the end that barks. At one point, I remember hearing a ruckus around the corner which sounded like a car crash but was the sheepdogs colliding with the dachshund trio resulting in a great deal of protest. And there is the old woman with 3 dachshunds who I keep expecting to pull her off her feet and drag her down the street someday in spite of how sprightly she walks. There are countless others who seem to appear at random in the dog area in the park that we've been getting familiar with, too. Jack Russell, Dachshund, Wheaton Terrier and various other terriers seem to be the most popular breeds. Mostly snack food, but there are the occasional big dogs who are well behaved with the microdogs. One is even bigger than HB which certainly got his attention after so many years of being the biggest dog on the block. Size matters, even for dogs. :)

A dog is much like a child in the respect that you identify with and are friendly towards other people in your common dogness and there is a social order that forms. I would take HB into the dog park but he is too tired and gimpy to play with the younger dogs and, in spite of being reasonably free of teeth, too fond of taking a chomp on the snack food-sized dogs which doesn't make many friends of the owners or the pets. So, we are content to sit in the shade, roll around on the grass and watch the other dogs chase each other and bark at the leviathan on the other side of the fence. Most of the dogs, in spite of their differences in size, seem to get on pretty well until a yip-yip-yapping in the distance begins. The owners look at each other, start collecting their best friends and clear the area post haste. As the yapping gets closer, you begin to contemplate justifications for canine barkectomy or doggie downers. When you locate the direction of the sound you see a person with two microscopic dogs on hopelessly tangled leashes being dragged behind them as they race towards the dog park while incessantly yapping at nothing in particular. Apparently they are brother and sister, one of whom tried to kill the other and they had to be separated for a while. I call them the 'twin rats on crack'. HB just eyes them with a rather blase curiosity while determining if they are food or not. I wonder sometimes if the dogs bark in Finnish and if he understands them.

permalink Ω 9 June 2004, Boston

Honey, you're scaring the kids

« People enjoying Tulireki [fire sled], the new rollercoaster at Linnanmäki. A few photos from Jarkko's birthday at Lintsi »

Jarkko decided that he wanted to spend his birthday at Linnanmäki, so we and two friends helped him try to feel a year younger instead of older for a day. :) They all spent the day getting me onto various rides that I likely wouldn't have tried in my slightly hungover state coupled with a fear of heights. The first one we tried was something called kieputin [the spinner] which rates high on the vomitronic scale. I kept expecting to be drenched either in my own vomit or someone elses, but I was happily disappointed.

Finnish clowns are still as creepy and scary as other clowns around the world. Perhaps there is an EU commission on the scary clown standard along with everything else, since Lintsi the clown should send little kids running. There's also the clownish orange globule known as the plop-plop guy who haunts the park with sinister eyes. I sat on the opposite end of the Viking Ship, another bad hangover ride, from the plop-plop and watched him smirk at me as I was laughing my ass off while trying not to lose my lunch. "Honey, you're scaring the kids.", Jarkko informed me as a group of girls in the row across from us was apparently eyeing me rather cautiously. They weren't facing the plop-plop guy.

Aside from all the spinny, whirly, puke-o-matic rides in the park, there are several roller coasters that are small in scale, but still a lot of fun. We went through the arcade, too, and I won a little Winnie the Pooh doll for Mari. Near the end of the day they finally agreed to ride my first choice which was the carousel. :) It's an antique and rotates slowly, but the slightly naughty designs, wooden animals and classic punch card organ make it a fixture in any carnival. Jarkko agreed to sit on the camel and let me take a picture of him, but a man sitting on small bactrian camel leads to a bit of a pitiful grimace. It was a fabulously fun day of frivolity.

Hopefully, he won't ask for bungee jumping next year. :)

permalink Ω 1 June 2004, Boston

My tricycle lament

I've seen a lot of advertising gimmicks, but wrapping an outdoor ad kiosk in clingwrap is a first. The ad is trying to make paying 50€ for a shrinkwrapped pack of the local telephone books seem alluring. There is a blue 'city info' book that is valuable for the street maps and other very useful information, but it's not worth 50€. I can't remember the last time I used a big, heavy, treeware phonebook to find a phone number so it's a mystery who parts with their cash for them.

We had a good time at the flea market today and managed to sell most of the books we lugged there from our apartment. The economic equation of the buyers wanting everything for less than 5€ and your desire to not haul anything back home makes for a good day for tightwads. What you paid originally for an item vs. what you think it's worth vs. what the buyer is willing to pay is an enlightening experience in capitalism in it's most raw form. It also reminds me why neither Jarkko nor I are in sales or marketing. If I ever go again, I'll take a Finnish sales shark to man the table and deal with the more hardcore old ladies haggling over a few cents. :) A couple people also came by and introduced themselves which was really cool, too.

I promised myself that I wouldn't buy anything today and I kept to that promise but there was an adorable, rusty, old three-wheeler bicycle in need of some work that someone in our group was selling which I took a fancy to. It was mechanically sound but it needed a good cleaning and the frame needed painting. I also envisioned redesigning the baskets behind the saddle and decorating the bike in an art car style with a Nordic flair...like maybe making it into a giant herring or Moomin on three wheels with a large enough basket in the rear for groceries for a family of 12. A trailer for HB to ride in was also a fleeting vision which was quickly replaced by the thought of him glaring at me in a decidedly irate and indignant manner. Sadly, someone came along and rescued me from my vacillation by purchasing the bike. If I would have had a proper garage for the project it was sure to become, I would have bought it without a second thought. My pragmatic side is a happy camper while my inner, impractical engineer is a bit miffed.

permalink Ω 17 May 2004, Boston

It's a dog's life

While I was walking HB this morning, before I had my quota of coffee, I started thinking about all the things he can do out on the sidewalk and I can't. I made up a list and sent it to McSweeney's Internet Tendency for grins. I'm coming back as a dog next time, my dog.

Things my dog can do in public, but I can't. It's a dog's life.

• lie down on the sidewalk
• poop and have a well trained human dispose of it
• pee freely
• fart
• stick his head in other people's crotches
• hump other dogs
• eat garbage off the sidewalk
• sniff another dog's butt
• roll in the grass
• howl at the moon
• bark or growl at another dog we don't like
• lick his balls
• eat grass
• drool
• nap
• beg for food from random passers-by and succeed
• wear a collar and walk on a leash
• elicit a smile from almost everyone
• limp and have other people notice or give a damn
• ride the trams for free

permalink Ω 7 May 2004, Boston

Bricks and Tits

I'm not much of a morning person, so when I am jarred out of a restful sleep at the bright and early hour of 7am by jackhammers under my bedroom window it takes some effort to dispel the homicidal urges I suddenly feel for the dude with the power tools. Well, and it doesn't do anything good for a hangover as my research would indicate. Yes, the summer will be filled with the sound of jackhammers, falling plaster thunking against the window ledge and construction guys yelling at each other in colourful Finnish. In my early morning sleepy delerium I'd swear I've heard them shouting in English, too. Like a comet on a 10-15 year orbit, the ulkoseinäremontti [house exterior repair] has returned to our house for the next few months.

Especially in the older buildings downtown, people always ask before renting or buying an apartment when the last ulkoseinäremontti or putkiremontti [plumbing] was done as both tend to create a fair amount of inconvenience and financial outlay for the residents. The putkiremontti question is commonly asked in an almost secretive whisper, "Have they done the plumbing yet?", as though saying it loudly enough for the building to hear would invoke the plumbing demons to come forth. Ulkoseinäremontti involves a scaffold being erected around the building and the entire plaster/cement covering being removed all the way back to the bricks. After all the old cruft has been eradicated, they replace the window ledge coverings, replace the gutters, repair the roof and then replaster the walls. I really had to giggle when I noticed the selection of posterboards for our windows as they are classic. During the non-winter months, there are quite a few buildings shrouded in scaffolding for this kind of work. The end result is often rather beautiful, but you can't help but feel a bit of pity for the inhabitants while the remodelling is underway.

HB barked at the workmen as they sealed the windows with thick opaque plastic before boarding them up. Just as the weather warms up and the sun returns north, they have managed to turn our apartment into a dark and airless crypt. It's not going to be a very pleasant summer for the old gimp since it'll be hot, dusty and close inside with the place sealed up tight. I think he'll be permanently parked on the bathroom tile floor for much of the summer. He particularly favours the spot directly in front of the toilet so that you have to step over him and then pretzel yourself in order to sit down without disturbing him. I signed up for the early morning intensive Suomi 3 class in June since I'm up every day at 7am with the jackhammers, so I may as well go torture myself on my own terms. Either way, I think I'll be needing a lot of Burana caps over the next few months. :)

permalink Ω 29 April 2004, Boston

Geriatric Canine

HB is such a large dog that he frequently draws a crowd when I take him out for a walk. Lately, however, he has been attracting an altogether different sort of attention since he flops down on the sidewalk for a rest rather often during our walks. He is nearly 13 years old which, for a St. Bernard and other giant breeds who age at the rate of 9 years per solar year, makes him positively ancient. His health is admirable with the exception of his arthritis which makes him limpy, gimpy and otherwise unenthusiastic about walking around the block. HB chased a cat down a flight of stairs and injured one of his front legs when he was 7 and that leg has been especially problematic now that arthritis has set in. He has good days and bad days, days he can manage to get to the park and days that he doesn't want to gimp even as far as the corner. I give him aspirin and, more recently, I have begun to give him Rimadyl in the hope that they will ease his chronic aches and pains. All things considered, he's doing pretty damn well for a dog who is getting on towards 117 human years in age.

HB and I have been together since he was a wee and rather adorable puppy so when someone on the sidewalk casts me a dirty look or tells me that I should euthanise him, it's like someone telling you to put a bullet to the head of your old grandmother with the walker since, clearly, she's not getting around so well anymore and in pain. He's family and I don't know how people think that it's ok to tell a complete stranger that you should kill your old dog since he looks tired and gimpy. My parents had an ancient dachshund who was deaf, blind, toothless and diabetic, which required daily insulin shots that my mother administered. I only once hinted that perhaps it would be time to start thinking about putting Gus to sleep as I knew how much they loved that dog. They did eventually when they could see that his quality of life was gone and my father would never speak of that day without crying. My mother mentioned later that my father had, on the sly, arranged to have Gus cremated and his remains placed in an urn which was sent to the house. Ending a pet's life is no easier than pulling a kevorkian for old gran, especially when they have so much life left in them. I keep hoping that HB will expire quietly in his sleep some night and not force me to do the most unpleasant of duties. It's a dark, secret and odious thought that haunts all geriatric pet owners. Until then, I'll keep patiently waiting for him when he flops down on the sidewalk to take a rest or pauses to muster the strength to keep going towards the park so he can smell all the trees and who has been recently watering them.

permalink Ω 18 April 2004, Boston

Wrath of an angry dog

Who cares about the wrath of an aloof, mysterious, erratic and possibly fictitious god when you have 60kg of angry dog in your living room? Honeybear today endured a trip to the vet, a bath, trimming of matts, an ear cleaning, ointment and pills and, the final insult, a cone. He has been giving me baleful looks all afternoon and I'm just embracing the guilt. I even went out and bought some fatty pork to fry up and add to his kibble tonight. I'm hoping that meat may soothe some of the hurt feelings he has after I couldn't help but laugh as I watched him try to navigate around the house and bump into things. It was adorable in a difficult to admit to sort of way. :) Yes, I'm whipped and desperate to appease an angry Dog.

He has had an irritated patch of skin on his left front paw for a few months that looks icky because he licks it, but aside from the purple fur from the saliva it doesn't do much. Over the weekend he developed a very aggressive growth between two of his toes on his right front paw that prompted the visit to the vet. He is almost 13 years old, which for a saint is positively ancient, so I was expecting the worst but the vet thinks that a course of antibiotics, a corticosteroid creme and the cone to keep him from slurping it constantly will be effective since it may be an allergic reaction to something aggravated by his diligent applications of saliva. If not, we'll have to have a biopsy and see what to do then. So...here's hoping the old geezer gets well soon and doesn't extort me for a thick, juicy steak every night until he sleeps the long sleep. :)

permalink Ω 2 March 2004, Boston

Purkinavaaja

I must be on a well designed gadget kick lately. Yesterday, I found a purkinavaaja which is a rubbery can opener thingy that is shaped to look like a strong man's arms and head. It looks cool and it works really, really well. The Finnish company who designed it apparently won the Gimme 2003 design award with it but it really needs a name to match its creative form instead of simply 'can opener'.

permalink Ω 8 February 2004, Boston

Welcome to my ghetto

We have now taken siege of the rooms we actually live in, the bedroom and diningroom, so we've retreated into the kitchen behind thick plastic to give us some false hope that it will help keep things dust-, grit- and grime-free. The bedroom has proven to be a wonderland of bad wallpaper archaeology but the Finnish Museum isn't interested in it as an exhibit. I spent the weekend chiseling 5 layers of awful wallpaper off the wall and unearthing a ventilation grate that, yes, had been wallpapered over and hidden behind a giant bad, cheap closet that we had removed. I say 'unearth' as there was at least a foot or more of rubble/sand/mortar accumulated over the past 80 years behind the closed vents after I managed to wedge them open. I stripped the paint off the grate, sanded it and gave it a coat of silver paint for metal and repaired the broken vent mechanism too. After removing the paper it looks better than before (which really isn't saying much :) but the walls, and ceiling, still need to be plastered smooth, primed and painted.

permalink Ω 6 April 2003, Boston

Just say "No" to wallpaper

Since my family has been sending me email asking for pictures of our new apartment in Helsinki I thought I'd save the time and effort of sending them around and typing the same thing a dozen times by putting them here so everyone can vicariously enjoy my personal vendetta against wallpaper.

The house is fundamentally very nice as it's a rather roomy 103 sq. meters [ roughly 1,100 sq. feet ] but over the years some bad choices in home improvement led to more bad choices in home improvement which is where we are now. Some day I will look back on these pictures and laugh but I'm working hard to muster the enthusiasm for fixing up this place after having done a lot of work on a house I just sold. :)

Jarkko's father, Erkki, had a professional come in and refinish the floors in the livingroom [ olohuone ], diningroom [ ruokatila ] and the bedroom [ makuuhuone ] before we arrived since the wood was exposed but in need of a sanding and coat of finish. The floors in the entryway and the office, however, remained covered by a dull grey vinyl flooring which the floor man mentioned probably had wood underneath. One evening I started ripping up the nasty grey flooring stuck to the floor with nasty grey caulk which was on top of 'wood grain' vinyl tile. What motivates people to think that fake wood-like tile is more attractive than actual wood flooring is not something I can comprehend. Sadly, the office floor had been the victim of this tile since a radiator leak some time ago had lingered on the wood and discoloured it but the entryway floor seemed intact. Jarkko and Erkki were more in favour of them buying some laminate flooring and laying it themselves but I really wanted the floor guy to come back and give us his professional opinion before giving up. They sanded and polished the entryway floor and put in a new floor in the office. It looks so much nicer and brighter and was worth the expense. Good riddance ugly grey vinyl flooring.

Every wall except for the bathrooms and the kitchen were covered with textured white wallpaper crowned with an ugly textured pastel border. I'm guessing that this was installed by someone who wanted to sell the place by covering up problems as I don't think a woman would put the same wallpaper in every room. It must have been sometime in the early 1980s when pastels like that were really popular as I keep hearing bad 80s pop music in my head every time I look at it. Die wallpaper! Die! :) Erkki found a trick to removing wallpaper on the net and we've managed to remove nearly all of it fairly easily. The downside is that it was covering a lot of fast cheap patches and such that will have to be dealt with. There are 3-4mm cracks in some spots which is fairly large, almost too large, for a house settling over less than 100 years so the cracks and other damage may be from the Russian bombing of Helsinki in 1939-40.

The baseboards are original complete with about 12 coats of paint, grey being the colour of the last coat. It's not a light grey or a dove grey it's an institutional shade of grey that you usually find in basements. They also have been abused by people with a hammer and cable tacks to run cable on top of the board which were then painted over with several coats of paint. The baseboards must go. Before spackling, sanding, priming and painting the office walls the baseboards were removed where we found some old wadded up pages of a 1924 Helsingin Sanomat newspaper used as some sort of insulation behind them. We've been looking at new baseboards which also feature a gutter behind them for phone and coax cable but if the wood for the floor was any indication I'd better start selling blood plasma on the side to help defray the outlay of cash.

One interesting thing about homes in Finland is that it is customary to take the ceiling lamps with you when you vacate a property as they aren't considered part of the building. It's a bit odd, especially if you arrived with a big dog, 5 suitcases and didn't think to pack a chandelier in your bags before you left. Jarkko's parents were immensely helpful in having a few chairs, dishes, curtains in the bedroom, a few lamps and toilet paper in the apartment when we arrived. I've been looking around at various ceiling lamps and trying to find something that will go with the hook fixture in the old building and look a lot less modern than the majority of lamps in some of the bigger stores.

So, after my camera warmed up upon its return from the trans-atlantic voyage, I took some pictures which the floorplan may help to put the overall picture of the house together.

I'll start at the front door, the little WC is on the left and the big closet is on the right, which was taken from the doorway of the diningroom. The little WC is complete with an antique toilet and an antique sink which someone painted, ceiling included, an awful dark shade of aqua. I must be fated to buy homes with the WTFWTTB until I die. The plaster and primer should be a good enough prep for the walls but I'm a little worried about the water tank since it's actively rusting so, aside from the silver rust retarding paint I have for the exterior, I'm going to try to dry out the tank at some point, scrape and paint the parts that make sense to paint unless there's a more sensible way of doing this sort of thing.

From the front door you can see the diningroom and the little archway. On the right you can vaguely see a little patch of yellow with bits of white splotches where the disco mirror array, affixed with double-sticky tape, was before I ripped them off one afternoon. I'll have to scrub the splotches with goo-gone to get the sticky bits left on the wall off before prepping and priming.

The little room from the main hallway which leads into both the dining room and the living room has a lovely old fireplace which is crowded in the photo by empty boxes and packing paper.

The dining room [ taken from the door of the kitchen ] which now contains the table from home, a door to the bathroom and panel doors to the living room. The ladder doesn't lend enough scale to show how tall the ceilings are as they are about 10 feet or 310cm high. There is also a cool little pocket closet by the window and a door to the bedroom along with the monster flat screen TV Jarkko wound up buying :) Through the pocket doors, which no longer close properly due to the layers and layers of paint that will be removed to expose the solid red pine underneath, you can see the living room piled with lots of unpacked crap and the Lord Hotel across the street.

The bedroom is much more exciting now that our bed arrived to replace the air mattress we had been sleeping rather restlessly on for a month. There is a door to the bathroom from the bedroom but the handle was removed for some unknown reason so we'll have to buy a handle to take advantage of this convenient little portal.

The bathroom/laundry has been renovated at some point and isn't all that bad. I miss my nice, large Maytag Neptune washer and dryer set rather badly as the ones here in euroland are so tiny :) I don't really need a dryer though as the climate is dry enough that clothing dries pretty quickly when hung to dry. A sauna was added on to the bathroom sometime in the 80s by one of the owners. I have to admit that I am learning to like Saturday night sauna rather quickly.

The kitchen [ Jarkko took this picture before we moved in ] was also renovated recently by the people we bought the apartment from. They took the door to the dining room off and opened it up to let the light from the window come through and closed of the door from what is now a large closet in the front hallway and installed a refrigerator and cabinets. I haven't gotten the 'zen' of the kitchen as I haven't cooked anything yet and cabinets seem to be in odd places but I like the wood, the appliances and colour they selected. I can understand why they chose to move instead of enduring months or years of moving stuff around from room to room while removing wallpaper and such. It's much easier to renovate a place before you really settle in.

The living room is spacious and reasonably sunlit when the sun is out. It'll look much better, of course, when everything is fixed up. All of the windows have a wide ledge which I may put cushions on and make into window seats. HB likes the living room even as it is :)

The office, though filled to the gills with boxes of books and other stuff, is the one room where the walls have been stripped of wallpaper, prepped, primed and painted and should get new baseboards this weekend. Erkki took the door to the small closet home with him to try stripping the paint in his heated garage to see if the wood is ok and guage how hard it's going to be to do this to all the doors in the house. I'm really hoping that it will be possible to have natural wood doors around the house.

Well, that's the new Finnish paradise. If you want to come visit us you'll have to call ahead and smuggle some tools, cheese-its and goodies into Finland via your luggage for us and Jarkko's parents :)

permalink Ω 20 February 2003, Boston

Big Dog Diner

I searched for a new raised feeder for Honeybear for the last few years since his old one was showing it's age and not all that sturdy. The plastic ones available would get all slimy and gross like most plastic crap does in a short amount of time. The wooden ones would get all drooled on and dirty in addition to being heavy, cumbersome and not all that attractive. I finally found a new raised bowl set from BlackDog Pet [ Mention you saw their ad in The Bark Magazine and get 15% off ] which is made of coated steel in a sturdy design that is also nice to look at in your house. The height is perfect and the bowls are different sizes which is a clever detail since the smaller food bowl makes it easier for the dog to clear the bowl. For the larger breeds it's really important to have one of these raised bowl diners as it takes much of the stress off their joints and back while eating which helps them live a longer, healthier life.

permalink Ω 16 January 2003, Boston

Adorable :)

The raincoat I ordered for HB earlier this week arrived today just in time for a Nor'easter to bring snow/sleet/rain. I put it on him and took him with us up to town to get a sandwich and walk back on the Minuteman bikeway among the fall leaves and the snow. He got quite a lot of attention from people passing by on the sidewalk. I took my camera along since the woman who made the coat wanted a picture or two of her handiwork on HB and I must admit he looks pretty adorable :)

• HB in profile
• HB with a happy face
• HB turns on the charm
• Side view of the coat

The raincoat is also lined with a nice black and red plaid flannel fabric so it's nice and soft without being bulky. The only nits I have are the clasps which look like they'll probably rust over time but I can probably replace them fairly easily with rubber coated ones and it slides back a bit when he walks so I'll rig some velcro ties to attach secure it to his collar to help prevent that. Other than that it's terrific to have such a nice raincoat for him to wear in inclement weather and he even seems to like wearing it :)

permalink Ω 16 November 2002, Boston

High-tech Dog Tags

I've been worried about HB getting lost somewhere between boarding the plane in Boston and arriving in Helsinki via Iceland and Stockholm so when I saw dog e-tags I had to get one for him. Chipping him is expensive and impossible for the average person to get information from but the e-tag has a 40-line capacity so I can put in both US and Finnish contacts as well as our names and flights should he somehow get misdirected en route.

permalink Ω 12 November 2002, Boston

Muttluks

Since I'm getting HB a nice warm raincoat I figured I'd go ahead and get him a pair of Muttluks for his paws. He's hasn't been made to walk in rain, cold and snow for at least 6 years and now that he's a spry 11 it isn't a bad idea to make the transition to Nordic urban living as easy and as comfortable as possible. I can already see the look of scorn burning holes through my skull as I put them on his paws :)

HB is going to visit the Vet on Wednesday for getting a couple of cysts removed, his nails clipped [ required for flying and he won't let me do it ], a gonadectomy and his round of vaccinations required for entering Finland except for the wormer which will have to wait until a week or three before we fly. I'm a little nervous about his getting an anesthetic for the first time at such an old age but he needs to have all this stuff done. I'll be a bit of a wreck until I can go collect him from the doctor's office. He'll probably guilt me into a week of extra scooby snacks and steak once he comes home and glares at me for leaving him to the Vet for the day :)

permalink Ω 11 November 2002, Boston

D.O.G.

In my quest for warm winter clothing to beef up my wardrobe it occured to me that I should find a warm raincoat for Honeybear since he's going to have to go out on the lead rain or shine once we're in Helsinki. He doesn't smell very terrific when he's wet so getting him some rainwear is a practical investment.

I don't think of HB, my 135 pound St. Bernard, as a large dog until I try to buy him something and find that the XL might cover half of his torso. I may have to consider hefty trash bags or checking the equestrian catalogues for something in pony sizes. :)

Dog Outer Gear [ D.O.G. ] has some really nice coats but even their Great Dane size isn't large enough. I sent them an email to see if maybe they can make a larger one for HB. k9apparel also makes some nice rainwear but seemingly only for greyhounds. On the chance that D.O.G. can't make a larger coat for HB I went ahead and ordered an Outward Hound XL Rain Coat since it looks adjustable and in the right weight range. It also has pockets on the side which may prove useful and reflective strips for walking in the dark.

I also found Doggles which HB would never allow himself to wear but I think he'd look adorable in a pair with his raincoat on while ambling through downtown Helsinki like some sort of post-modern cow. :)

I FOUND ONE! :) By adding the word 'horse' to my 'large dog raincoat' query on google I stumbled across My Dog's Overcoat where XXXXL really means Large. :) The coats look like little miniature horse blankets made just for dogs. So, I measured my little pony and sent in my order and will hopefully get a properly sized raincoat for him before we depart.

permalink Ω 10 November 2002, Boston

Selling off the American Dream

For more than 4 weeks I did just about everything I could to make the house look good for the impending open house as, with the holidays just around the corner, I wanted to sell it quickly. It did :) I baked two apple pies and the Finnish secret weapon, Korvapuustit [ cinnamon ears ], brewed some coffee and got the hell out of dodge for 6 hours. When I was informed by my broker that we had 3 offers from the open house I was amazed since I was prepared to wait a while given that the market around here had cooled considerably after the buying frenzy over the summer.

It is a strange experience when you sell or buy a house as it resembles an arranged marriage because the real estate agents insulate you from the other party while assessing the suitability of the match and only allowing you to meet each other at the consumation cum closing. Of the three offers, one was a single woman, one was a newlywed couple who weren't working with an agent and attached a rather naive note onto their bid about how I wouldn't have to pay broker fees since they weren't working with one and an older couple who noticed the house was wired with cat5 and have a 13 year-old boy who wants a dog but can't have one in the apartment they are renting. You know, I'm a grumpy old cur but the bit about the kid wanting a dog yanked all the right strings. It may be a complete fabrication but I admire the craft and care with which it was conceived.

The catch of selecting an older couple who had been looking for a house they liked and in their price range for over a year was that they had the house inspector from hell. It's not a large house but they took 4 hours combing through every last detail. My agent called me and let me know that it was going to go very long. Needless to say the next 4 days of waiting was pretty nerve wracking and when they came back with insignificant nits I was relieved but also a little annoyed. After spending $8500 to get the house painted it seemed absurd to offer them $200 off the price. This is New England though and Yankees just aren't satisfied until they feel like they've gotten a deal, no matter how insignificant the sum.

So, now we're just waiting for the radon test results to come back since the first set was rendered invalid due to it not being left out long enough. Our movers show up on 7 January, we move to a hotel for 2 weeks on 9 January, the closing is on 10 January and we take a one-way trip to .fi on 23 January. The thousand or so little other details that need to be taken care of before then seem trivial now that the most important one is done.

permalink Ω 3 November 2002, Boston

This old money pit

Every time I visit my family I usually feel like an alien visiting from another planet as they have 2 enthusiasms I don't share; children and home improvement. Modern science has made it easy to avoid the first but home improvement caught up with me over the past two weeks since the house painters are going to leave me bankrupt and I have a limited time to get the house ready for sale.

The only reason I bought this house instead of renting was due to my having a large dog which made it nearly impossible to rent in Cambridge and it was cheaper to buy in the long-term. Over the past few years I have tried in vain to hire contractors to do various jobs around the house and I think I have finally found the secret to getting one to return your calls; tell them you are selling your house. They hear the 'ca-ching' sound right over the telephone wire when you mention this tiny detail and call you right back. Not only do they hike up the prices on this sort of job, they don't have any long lasting accountability for the job thus making it the ideal job for maximizing profit.

Since the painters are going to take as much of my cash flow as they can I took a week off of work and have done several of my lifetimes worth of home improvement in less than a fortnight.

Painting

All of my dislike and general misanthropic tendancies are fed by the cheap and the stupid. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, more aggravating than giving woodwork that has already been painted, a crime in its own right, a fresh coat of paint only to find the motherfuckers before you painted a single coat of water-based latex paint without primer over oil paint. To the uninitiated this seems harmless but consider what oil and water do in a container; they separate don't they? I would like to sentence these idiots to an eternity of painting a house which has walls that chip and peel since the latex paint won't ever adhere properly.

Unless you plan to die in the house you currently own, don't paint small and dark rooms deep colours. The dining room in my house was painted a deep, dark navy blue which I renamed "What in the fuck were they thinking" blue or WITFWTTB. It required 3 coats of primer followed by 2-3 coats of linen white to cover it. It's amazing how different and how much larger the room looks with lighter paint. Instead of being the light-sucking WITFWTTB hole, it exudes light and shows off the natural woodwork they had refinished and then slopped WITFWTTB on the edges. For the crime of painting dark colours in a small, dark room I sentence these people to an eternity in a dark cave while painting it with WITFWTTB.

Bathroom tile

Grout isn't waterproof. We can land on the moon but we still use grout on tile which is meant to be innundated frequently with water. Somehow this seems unfair. At some point during the 70s the bathroom was remodeled and hasn't really been touched since. A coat of latex over oil paint was about the only thing the previous owners had been able to manage.

The bathroom tile was, fortunately, mostly good but the grout was going and 6 tiles buckled from the wall a while back. I caulked the crap out of them thinking that maybe I could get a contractor in to fix them but that never happened. So I removed the nasty looking caulk, pulled off the buckled tiles and cleaned them up and restuck them to the wall. This sounds easier than it is as the margin for error is very, very small so getting them to fit perfectly where they were requires patience, patience and more patience. A putty knife and a rubber mallet help a bit too. Once the mastic is applied you have to let it cure for 24 hours. Then take a grout tool to remove the old, loose stuff and hoover the dust so the new grout will stick. Applying grout isn't rocket science but it is a refined and distilled pain in the ass. You have to work with a substance that dries quickly yet washes away with water before it sets. This means you have to use the float to apply it to the tiles and squeegee it off before it sets while being careful to not wash off the newly applied grout.

The grout then has to set for 24-48 hours and sealed with a silicone grout sealer which also has to cure for 24 hours. Do not try to hurry this process out of the need to bathe. Enjoy how rank you smell and think of how good that shower is going to feel after 5 days when the tile is ready! :)

The finishing touch is caulking around the tub and in the corners. Practice with the caulk gun before you do this as a) bath and tub caulk is some seriously sticky shit that even acetone will not remove and b) it's really hard to get a nice even bead of caulk. Keep a razor blade widget around for the inevitable need to remove bits of it once it has dried in 24 hours or so.

Painting the outside of the house

I had to go next-door to ask the neighbour if the painters could use his driveway for their ladders since one side of the house abuts his property. He agreed then started telling me in his thick Irish accent about how "that house has never held a coat of paint". I pointed out that the house had only been painted by cheap bastards without a primer over the last 30 or more years but that didn't seem to convince him that this paint job would be any different than those that came before. I had to resist the urge to smack him and hoped that I could at least feel like I was making an earnest attempt at having a quality paint job applied to the house. They've replaced a large number of the cedar shingles and are scraping every inch by hand since power sanding isn't allowed in this town. They are also going to scrape, glaze and paint the old windows too. That sucking sound you hear? That's the sound of my bank account being emptied.

What's left

While I really love my manicure of broken fingernails from the solvents and a combination of grout, caulk, white paint and primer as nail polish, I'll be thrilled to be done with the home improvement phase of moving. I'm even looking forward to going back to work.

I still have to touch up the woodwork in the sunroom since, like all the rest of the painted wood baseboards in the house, the guy who refinished the floors slopped polyurethane on most of them making them look gross. The contents of the basement need to be moved out to the garage for the moving sale extraveganza. I may paint down the stairs to the basement but, at this point, I may just say fuck it and leave something for the new owners to do when they're bored. I'm about to hire a handyman to fix one of the garage door springs, fill cracks in the foundation with hydraulic cement, replace one of the wooden steps on the side entrance and whatever else is left that needs fixing.

In conclusion I think that people who dig Bob Vila and his kind are part of an alien conspiracy, though to what end I've not yet determined. To be sure to get a ring back from a contractor just mention the magic words, "I'm Moving". I guarantee that phrase will work like a charm or your money back. Owning a home is pain in the ass, especially if you aren't Bob Vila with his workshop filled with tools and buddies who are professional contractors.

On the bright side at least I'll have something to talk about at Christmas when my sisters start yammering on about the stuff they've fixed in their homes over the past year. Hmmm, nah, I'll just get loaded on wine and talk about our new apartment/condo in downtown Helsinki with a resident handyman :)

permalink Ω 28 September 2002, Boston

hfb the toilet slayer

For the past few years I have considered getting a plumber cum exorcist for much of the plumbing in my house, especially the toilet, as I suspect that in some way it is sentient and evil.

The main drain pipe in the house developed a golf ball size hole at the trap last year the night before we were to leave for Helsinki. Finding a plumber to return my desperate pleas for help was futile and I wound up fixing it myself with a gob of plumbers epoxy. I try not to look in the direction of that pipe with the hope that left untaunted it will leave me alone.

The toilet likes to do several things; leak from the rusted tank bolts, drop the flapper chain, lose the seal on the flapper, and run when the shower is on when the fill tube slips below the fill line. Pick any random day of the week and usually one of these things will be wrong. Friday, the tank bolts decided to leak again. My usual tactic of adding a little waterproof sealant to the bolts didn't do the job so I vowed to fix the problem once and for all. I had taken the day off to begin the fun task of painting 2 of the upstairs bedrooms and didn't really think about what tackling the evil toilet would really entail.

The tank bolts had not been disturbed for 30 years and were rusted to the point of no regular removal. Jarkko valiantly got the tank itself off by sawing through the bolts underneath the tank but there were nuts under the tank that prevented the remains of the bolts from coming off the toilet base. Undaunted and determined to vanquish the possessed commode I bought a few metal cutting discs for the dremel and started grinding away. I had about 5mm of clearance between the porcelain and the bottom of the nut that I had to hold with a pair of pliers in one hand and the dremel buzzing at 20k rpm in the other. An hour later they were removed and 15 minutes after that the toilet was back together with new bolts and seals.

Of course, the toilet was very angry that it had been deprived of its favourite amusement so the flapper then decided to give up the seal. The toilet made a gross misjudgement in thinking it could taunt me so. I went downstairs and got a gob of plumbers epoxy, drained the tank and stuck that sucker on for good. I even fixed the chain and the fill tube at the same time.

Now the toilet is bored and I flush with confidence that the toilet isn't going to explode into a fountain. But I'm sure it's up to something and will try to amuse itself with some other plumbing malady but me, my dremel and plumbers epoxy can fix most anything.

I can't wait to be an apartment dweller again.

permalink Ω 17 September 2002, Boston

curbside appeal

One of the drawbacks to owning a home is the eventual need to sell it for a reasonably profitable amount of money. Selling a house in the depth of Winter isn't a terrific idea so I sent email to the Real Estate Agent who sold the house to me 6 years ago. If you ever want to know the dirt on your neighbours and the town you live in make friends with a local agent as I found out more in 30 minutes of chatting with Dawn than I have in 6 years.

This morning she came over with the market analysis and what price she thinks will be fair for our house. The house has nearly doubled in price and is supposedly a 'starter' home. I don't know what the average salary is these days in Boston but how does the half million dollar range qualify as a 'starter' home?! The seemingly impervious real estate market appears to be hitting a soft patch as well since the average number of days on the market has increased in the last 2 months so I'll be rather pensive until someone decides that it's the home of their dreams and are willing to purchase it.

Since the market is going a bit soft more stress is being placed on the condition the home is in before listing. Suddenly, every little ding, nick, loose doorknob and anything else out of place comes into sharp focus. The agent also recommended that the exterior be painted to increase the 'curbside appeal'. I guess cat5 cabling throughout the house doesn't do much for said appeal. :)

We've also started boxing up our library and collecting stuff for a garage sale to give the house that 'not quite so lived in' feeling. It makes me tired just thinking of all the stuff that needs to be done much less doing them.

If I survive the next three or so weeks and get everything done in time, all I have left to do is bake a loaf of bread for the open house to give it that 'homey' feeling. The psychological warfare in the act of baking bread or an apple pie is almost admirable if a bit manipulative. I wonder if we could have 2 open house tour groups, one control group and one subject to experiment, to test if those exposed to the scent of baking pies are inexplicably compelled to part with a large sum of money or if they suddenly feel hungry and speed off to the local deli for a sandwich. I'm guessing the latter :)

permalink Ω 12 September 2002, Boston

Wicked Bad Drivahs

Back to repeat the victory of being the worst last year, Boston has returned victorious with the Worst Drivers in the fourth annual consusmer safe driving survey[ click on the yellow sq. for the report ]. I say, I say, I'm shocked and amazed! Damn, if I had a nickel for every motherfucker in an SUV on 128 who rode my bumper at 80mph+ or in inclement weather I'd be rich. Every time some asstard honks the horn at me while riding my bike just to be obnoxious or while in a car the second the light turns green I wish for an array of rear deployed heat seeking missiles. Perhaps removing these bad drivers from the gene pool now might improve Boston drivers before the next Millenium. If there was a grade lower than "F" I'd award it to Boston drivers. Wicked Retahded.

permalink Ω 21 May 2002, Boston

Moooo-nogram

I've just seen the absolute limit in monogramming; A Monogram Steak Brand. A Moooo-nogram. I wonder how soon before they introduce monogram butter molds and free range chickens that can speak your name. :)

permalink Ω 13 May 2002, Boston

The 'real' Ginger

If you like ginger then run, don't walk, to The Ginger People. The ginger chews are viciously addictive :)

permalink Ω 10 May 2002, Boston

Scary Stories

If Lemony Snicket had a line of plush toys they would look like Scary Stories pets. I have resisted stuffed toys all my life but these are curiously magnetic :)

permalink Ω 25 April 2002, Boston

The Birds

I'm not fond of birds. There would always be a nest of them in the ivy outside my window when I was a kid and they would sing and sing especially if they knew I was asleep..or so it seemed. The movie The Birds galvanized my dislike of them. When I bought the house I live in presently I noticed that my house was the only one around that had shutters on the windows and now I know why; the dreaded Passer domesticus or House Sparrow.

My house is the local condo and hotel for these varmints. The incessant cheep-cheeping, the pooping all over the shutters, the damage to the house, etc. has caused me to entertain homicidal thoughts of these furry little bastards.

Too small to shoot they must be eradicated more efficiently. I won't poison them as I can't even do that to mice so perhaps I'll introduce a predator into the neighbourhood. Anyone have a screech owl they are willing to loan me for a month or two? :)

permalink Ω 21 April 2002, Boston

Jinkies!

My 'land line' telephone is a honey pot for telemarketers so it's never answered and once a week or so I check the machine for anything potentially important. Last night I found out my dog either has a girlfriend or a stalker as someone sang a message to him asking where he is.

permalink Ω 12 April 2002, Boston

So cute yet too small

I have found the most adorable pair of bunny slippers at Garnet Hill [ item  6493 ]. Alas, they aren't made in the giant boat size that I need so my quest must continue. *pout*

permalink Ω 12 April 2002, Boston

Eye C U

Before getting my new glasses I resigned to get my eyes checked and found that I'm not going blind, but I do have a prescription that is far too strong. The cool part was the apparatus the doctor used to determine this as he had me look at two eye charts, one in red and one in green. If the green was in sharper/bolder focus it meant I was overcorrected, and the red meant I was undercorrected. A clever trick with light wavelengths :) What a relief since I thought I would have to get bifocals and had visions of going blind like a fellow sysadmin did in the last few years. I was given a magnet with the above design and recommend that if it has been 2 years or more [ 3.5 in my case ] since your last exam, find a good doctor and go get them checked as your vision doesn't improve with age any more than your soft tissue body parts get firmer.

permalink Ω 2 April 2002, Boston

Maybe smaller is better!

I'll never forget seeing the stars in crisp focus on the way home from the optometrist when I got my first pair of glasses. They were big, dorky and heavy but I could see things for a change so I wore them all the time unlike my older sister who needed them more than I did and often didn't wear them. I tried contacts for a brief time and when one ripped on my eye after driving all night to Key West, I flicked it out the window and haven't gone back.

I purchased the first pair of glasses I ever liked after seeing them on the local NAACP president at a dinner one night and asked him where he bought them. Of course, this would be the first pair I chose on my own without my parents. Over the years I've worn a number of frames but I've noticed that the lenses are significantly smaller than 20 years ago. My latest pair of glasses nearly omits the frame entirely so pretty soon I suspect I'll be wearing a monocle. :)

I've developed a theory that Macintosh users wear small frame/lens glasses and PC/Wintel users wear large frame/lens glasses which I will attribute to the higher value placed on aesthetics by Macintosh owners. Note the difference in eyewear on Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. I should start collecting data and see if there is any real correlation :)

permalink Ω 1 April 2002, Boston

The elusive fuzzy bunny

Sarah saw these Sushi Pyjamas last week when I was in St. Louis. They must be expensive due to the fact that Buffy the Vampire Slayer wears them on the show [ The guys from London.pm are sure to be snapping them up now :) ]. I am quite fond of the Snow Globes and the Pulp Fiction patterns.

I went on a mission for a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers that these pyjamas beg for but, damn, there must be an embargo on bunny slippers these days! :) I searched high and low with Google and found cute duckies and baby bunny booties which wouldn't fit me, fuzzy wuzzy slippers and, finally, a pair of adult bunny slippers from Orvis but they won't be shipping until July. *pout*

permalink Ω 31 March 2002, Boston

shopping mall schlock

If you have been to a shopping mall in the US you've probably seen the work of Thomas Kinkade. There is a store in the Burlington Mall that I've never dared enter but at the entrance there is a fake fireplace and a carboard incarnation of Kinkade to entice you into his non-challenging pastel world. It's the ugliest crap I've seen since my sister started collecting the precious moments atrocities inspired by the infamous sad puppy.

He is, supposedly, "Americas most collected artist". I don't know a single person who owns, collects or displays this stuff in their home. I'd consider buying it for people I didn't like but it's really expensive crap that just looks cheap. I mean, this is the kind of wall covering you see in Motel 6, trailer parks and white trash movies so why are people paying $400 and up for these, these, crimes against art?

Kinkaid, not happy with just polluting interior landscapes of middle-class america, has just released a new novel Cape Light. I'll bet you'll never guess who did the jacket artwork. A "modern-day Normal Rockwell"?! Right, and I'm a new age Mother Theresa. The reviews are fun reading though :)

permalink Ω 17 March 2002, Boston

Number 13

Number 13 speaks volumes as I know the subject of the picture. He has tattoos covering nearly all of his visible skin and supposedly much of what isn't. The "13" is his lucky number. I remember him always being drunk but, then again, I saw him while I was working in the bar he lived above. He is a bartender by day at the airport and hangs out at the pub at night. Every bartender gets to know their regulars and we could count on him being there almost every night. The "CRAP" t-shirt evokes his personality quite well as he gulps the Jaeger shot. It makes me homesick. :)

JC Thorpe is the artist who did the CPAN logo and works for Osborn and Barr Communications. If you have seen an ad for Monsanto or Cargill, then you've seen some of his work.

permalink Ω 16 March 2002, Boston

Tally Ho!

An amusing account of fox hunting in Salon.com today illustrates well the madness we who love horses contract at an early age and never seem to recover. The detailed description of the dresscode for the hunt had me smiling with the reverie of nostalgia for my own equestrian wardrobe.

Fox hunting is an amazing sport. I would haul my arse out of bed long before the sun rose to ride with the local hunt since I knew the staff and most of the barn crew. The description "all thrill of battle and only 25 percent of the injuries" is a very astute observation. Hunting is at the center of controversy again in the UK since many find it to be a barbaric sport even though most hunts are 'drag' hunts where no live fox is hunted but the scent of one dragged along the ground ahead of the hunt. Like the author of the Salon.com article I haven't seen anyone 'bloodied' at a hunt and suspect many misconceptions about the sport can be blamed on the movies.

I came out of the womb wanting a horse. I would wait by the post box for the weekly copy of The Chronicle of the Horse to arrive and pester my patient father for Thelwell books while dreaming I would one day ride for the United States Equestrian Team. I started taking riding lessons when I was 8, gleefully offering to clean tack and shovel stalls every day. The pinnacle of excitment arrived when I was asked to be the gatekeeper for the dressage ring at the next show. I eventually got my own horse and bought my own saddle, a saddle I still own in a stubborn hope that I'll again have a horse someday. My original plan for college was to attend Lake Erie College on a substantial scholarship for equestrian studies, but my parents said no and I gave in fearing that I'd live a life on the streets if I didn't get a 'real' degree. If I have but one regret in life, it will always be not taking my first choice even though I probably would be working at Home Depot wondering why I didn't listen to the wisdom of my parents.

Oh, now I'm going to have to go and get a copy of International Velvet to wallow as an armchair tourist in my childhood long since past.

permalink Ω 6 March 2002, Boston

From Vanuatu with payment and postage

I made the mistake when I was a freshman in University, while at home on christmas holiday watching the 4am creature feature bored and unable to sleep after staying awake for a week during exams, of taking up smoking for it's soporific effects. I, like many of my addicted comrades, believe it is a habit easily kicked through force of will. I think we delude ourselves since smoking is passe and we'd be more hip if we were addicted to something more fashionable like painkillers. I quit for a week last summer and the first one I lit up in my failure felt like John Travolta looked in Pulp Fiction while driving the car high on heroin and it was something of a revelation in that moment just how powerful the drug known as nicotine really is and how it would require something more than just determination to walk away.

My sister told me about Zyban/Wellbutrin since she quit smoking with its help and recommended it. The health plan I have doesn't cover smoking cessation and I've not been to a doctor in years since it's generally a pain in the ass to figure out how to actually use the system. I went surfing on the net one afternoon to do a little research on the drug after hearing more people say that Zyban did the trick for them and I found a web site that claimed to sell this magical substance sans prescription. I figured why not try it and, after finding that a loophole in the law allows these companies to legally import prescription only drugs to individuals for private use, I ordered an 8-week supply. The package arrived today from Vanuatu bearing a diamond shaped postage stamp with a funky Easter Islandesque tiki thingy and a space satellite flying overhead with a customs form declaring the contents as 'health products'. :)

So, I'm a little nervous as I've not taken anything stronger than Advil in the last 20 years and I'd really like to succeed this time around. The side effects of the drug don't sound too shabby though as, if I am to believe the brochure, I should be thin and randy as well as smoke-free soon :)

permalink Ω 19 February 2002, Boston

The Dr. Spock of talk.bizarre

In the mid- to late thirties one begins to notice that the number of friends without children dwindles precipitously and once married the psyop to get you to do the same intensifies. I never played with dolls and instead had chemistry sets leaving me ill prepared to even contemplate this particular stage of life. Shopping for friends in the parental way has its own unique flavour of terror as, prior to spawning, I could buy a bottle of scotch for the father or a book for the mother as these are things I am familiar with, but shopping for baby stuff brings on terror, confusion, sweaty palms and the oppressive desire to flee on foot to the nearest bookshop. Cracking the code of the baby store requires time, patience and the ability to endure humiliation as women in the store cast furtive glances as though an alien ship had left you here for the afternoon to observe their behaviour and report back to the mothership. The women at the cash register can always see us coming and instinctively give us boxes and gift receipts before sending us away.

One of my DINK [ double income no kids ] friends sent me a link to a journal one of the talk.bizarre people who joined the parental pod people recently and describes the situation with such rabid honesty I wonder why more people don't come clean about the realities of parenthood as it's refreshing and entertaining to watch one of 'us' become one of 'them' :)

permalink Ω 3 February 2002, Boston

Like a Luddite at COMDEX

Today I escaped work for a little while and went by SoftPro Books in Burlington to see what might be new in the world of technical books and chat with the staff who, over the years, have become practically family. Sadly, they are feeling the same lull in business everyone else is and the store was pretty quiet. After getting the lowdown on what has been popular and the usual gossip I noticed that the author of the Ugliest Perl Book has a new title Perl to Python Migration. I looked at it a while and wasn't that impressed. I guess it won't sell that well just because if people have production Perl code that they probably aren't going to 'migrate' it and just do new stuff in Python and eventually get around to reimplementing the Perl stuff later. This guy makes up for low sales by writing in volume though. There was also another book, The Procmail Companion that looked promising both in it's brevity [ 300 or so pages ] and by its content. Nothing else was really all that new or exciting in the world of books. I did see a few that would make excellent doorstops though. :)

After work I decided to brave the grocery stores so I could 'beat the rush' on Wednesday for the annual American Thanksgiving Holiday Feast. Everytime I go to the grocery store I feel like a luddite at COMDEX. Everything is big, shiny and I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing there or what I'm supposed to buy. Women with carts full of stuff and kids go by me and give me that knowing look of 'you're a stranger here' while I'm standing in the middle of the produce section dazed and confuzed. In my 20s, my fridge used to be a shrine to minimalism; coke, cigarettes and take-away boxes from eating out the night before...is there some magical transformation that is supposed to happen when you hit your 30s to infuse you with this vital grocery knowledge?

I had to trek to not one, not two, but three stores to find everything I needed which is almost legendary. I even found myself shopping at Bread & Circus, a 'whole foods store' where everything, and I do mean everything, is organic. I just want a pound of butter, not 6 different choices of damn organic salted sweet creamery butter. You know, butter, it just shouldn't be this hard. It's enough to make you homicidal by the time you check out and they ask you innocently enough, "paper or plastic?". I looked at the woman tonight and said, "Don't you mean toxic or organic grocery bag?" . Fortunately, she got the dry sarcasm. I asked for the hand-milled paper bags. :)

After I made it safely home unscathed I sifted through the mail to find that Martha Stewart must be reading my journal with her latest special issue At Home with Technology that includes a section on how to make your own laptop tote, how the supermarket checkout works, shopping on-line, 'tucking in technology', computer crafts and an "Ask Martha" column with such tough questions on cleaning your computer and if it is safe to leave the computer on all day. Wahoo. And, to add insult to injury, I find that Tiffany has decided that, after years of sending me a catalogue, that now that I have a husband he should receive a catalogue instead of me since, I guess , no married woman buys her own jewelery these days. When we bought our wedding rings I'll never forget the women in Tiffany's telling me, with a wink to Jarkko, that should I ever find that my rock is too small that I could 'upgrade' my rock by trading in the old rock for a bigger one. Well, sexist jerks or not, they do make some lovely things and I'm a sucker for their beautiful south pacific pearlnecklaces.

Guh, now I feel like I need to watch the Man Show, drink a few beers, scratch myself and find a football game on TV to shake off all this girly crap. Hmm, pass the beef jerky and the pr0n will you?

permalink Ω 19 November 2001, Boston

*pssst* Hey Guy, Wanna Aeron?

I recently, after many years of having a cheap desk even a college student would scoff at, decided to purchase a desk from Herman Miller as their new RED line is both stylish and reasonably affordable. I purchased the RED Spider with no frills and a modest rolling chair which shipped for 'free' and I didn't have to pay tax on it either. I must admit that I really love having a real desk for a change and sometimes think I maybe should have gone for the Aeron but I tend to be too pragmatic on big items like that. But, today, I received a letter from Herman Miller thanking me for my purchase and inviting me to save 10% on anything in the store...including an aeron. Bastards! :) Well, I'm not going to take the bait but if anyone else wants to go for the aeron they've always wanted, go to the website, shop and when you check-out enter the code oneofthefirst. Don't tell them I sent you :)

permalink Ω 9 October 2001, Boston