11 July 1999
Friday

Darling Alex

My lovely granddaughter. I've used this photo before, but it is one of my very favorites, so I used it again!


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The Neighbor's Yard

Only seventy-one new messages in my e-mail today when I got home. That is somewhat unusual; I normally have about three times that number with all the lists I'm on.

One mail in particular stood out, though, because the subject of it was Nutella. Liz of Lifestyles dropped me a note and told me to try it on toast. She promised that it would NOT be as gross as it sounded . .and she was right! I love it!

I'm thinking we might have Nutella for dinner tonight.

¤ ¤ ¤

I called the department store person today. As I suspected, it was an offer -- a contingency offer. That means they want me to work there providing that everything turns out the way they want with the background investigation and the drug pre-screening test.

Of course, I accepted it. It is back on the mainframe, so I'll probably see a good deal of work at the end of the year when the 'overlooked' Y2K issues rear their ugly heads. Um . .that is if I pass the background check -- I do have some concerns about my wild misspent youth catching up with me.

They run a tight shop and a professional shop. Professional means that I need to get out all my suits and see if they can be altered to fit my new, jumbo sized body or if I need to visit Omar to get some new ones.

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My neighbor took his fence down. He had a rickety, falling down six foot wood fence around the backyard. When I got home today, I noticed his fence (with my morning glories all entwined in it) at the curb ready for the city pickup. I couldn't wait to go out back to see what his yard looked like.

It is the typical household with kids backyard -- swing set, a kid sized jeep and a blow up pool. His is as barren of trees, lawn and gardens as ours was when Tom got this house. It is showing signs of loving attention, though.

Their pool is the biggest blow up pool I've ever seen, certainly large enough for several adults to paddle around in. I'm wondering if I can figure out a way to get invited over to cool off in the afternoons.

¤ ¤ ¤

I spent the last few days at WORK coaching the technicians. Coaching is a fancy way of saying that I'm spying on them. I won't bore you with the technical stupidity of many of these experts, but I came home and started off on another ranting session. Poor Tom.

Many of the trainees are stupid, not ignorant, stupid -- but you expect that with new hires, I guess. But the trainers are also barely past neanderthal. Even when I go outside to smoke, the conversation is what I would expect to hear on a playground. What really, REALLY bothers me is that nearly everyone considers themselves an expert on things they know nothing about.

It is so good to come home and be able to have a conversation with an intelligent lifeform. Even Cricket displays good listening skills.


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