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October 08, 2009
Finally I have fixed the comic links on the right-hand side. Probably nobody noticed but my website (not this blog, the website) quietly expired towards the middle of September, and took the image links with it. Oh well. I kept a copy all the code that Paul so laboriously wrought, so if I want to set up shop again in future I can do so, but I just wasn't making use of that site, so it didn't seem worth the cost of renewing my subscription.
The excellent Clay, with his bifurcated beard and apparently infinite knowledge of how things in the house work (from loft ladders to Toyo heaters) duly showed up, discovered a LEAK in the connection between the tiny furnace--the furnace what runs by burning things--and the 300 gallons of raw oily fuel standing on spindly steel legs just outside my front door......tightened a valve, and departed, all in five minutes. With instructions to call him if the problem continued, because then he would simply take the whole thing apart and reset the valve using a new piece of copper. As soon as he'd left I found a puddle of oil in the tray under the heater, in the corner nearest Scout's litterbox, which had evidently leaked from the valve and collected. Dad and I cleaned that up, set some papers down to absorb any oil that continued to drip, and left the Toyo overnight. Checking back the next day it was all clear, so I have moved back into my cabin. An energetic round of breadmaking drove out the oily reek, so we are a happy household once again.
I think I have a part time job, too. There's been a sign posted at a cafe near my parents' house--the Alaska Coffee Roasting Company--for well on three weeks, advertising for bakers and baristas. On a whim I printed off a copy of my [K.M. Self-Approved] resume and handed it to the counterperson as I was leaving with my latte. Two hours later the store manager called to set up an interview; the following morning at 11am the kitchen manager walked me through the maze of refrigerators and industrial mixers, and asked when I could start. I've never gotten a job so quickly in my life. It's enough to make me suspect I may have strayed into the Overqualified Zone.
Supposedly I'd only be working two or three days a week, shifts start at 5am, and pay starts at $9/hour (the cost of living in Alaska is not so much lower than Boston that that is a living wage). So I wouldn't go so far as to call this job a commitment. A fling, maybe. (Other people have interpersonal relationships, I have jobs.) But may I direct your attention to the wood-fired oven? Looks like that could be great fun. They make all sorts of things that I've never baked in my "professional" guise: cheesecakes, empanadas, flatbreads, quiche. A fine chance to learn something new. Plus I will not have to double as a barista when the front counter is short-staffed, I get to lurk in the kitchen and stir the tuna salad.
Of course nobody from the company has contacted me since Tuesday when I was interviewed, but they gave me a copy of the baker's manual so I assume they were pretty serious about hiring me.
The excellent Clay, with his bifurcated beard and apparently infinite knowledge of how things in the house work (from loft ladders to Toyo heaters) duly showed up, discovered a LEAK in the connection between the tiny furnace--the furnace what runs by burning things--and the 300 gallons of raw oily fuel standing on spindly steel legs just outside my front door......tightened a valve, and departed, all in five minutes. With instructions to call him if the problem continued, because then he would simply take the whole thing apart and reset the valve using a new piece of copper. As soon as he'd left I found a puddle of oil in the tray under the heater, in the corner nearest Scout's litterbox, which had evidently leaked from the valve and collected. Dad and I cleaned that up, set some papers down to absorb any oil that continued to drip, and left the Toyo overnight. Checking back the next day it was all clear, so I have moved back into my cabin. An energetic round of breadmaking drove out the oily reek, so we are a happy household once again.
I think I have a part time job, too. There's been a sign posted at a cafe near my parents' house--the Alaska Coffee Roasting Company--for well on three weeks, advertising for bakers and baristas. On a whim I printed off a copy of my [K.M. Self-Approved] resume and handed it to the counterperson as I was leaving with my latte. Two hours later the store manager called to set up an interview; the following morning at 11am the kitchen manager walked me through the maze of refrigerators and industrial mixers, and asked when I could start. I've never gotten a job so quickly in my life. It's enough to make me suspect I may have strayed into the Overqualified Zone.
Supposedly I'd only be working two or three days a week, shifts start at 5am, and pay starts at $9/hour (the cost of living in Alaska is not so much lower than Boston that that is a living wage). So I wouldn't go so far as to call this job a commitment. A fling, maybe. (Other people have interpersonal relationships, I have jobs.) But may I direct your attention to the wood-fired oven? Looks like that could be great fun. They make all sorts of things that I've never baked in my "professional" guise: cheesecakes, empanadas, flatbreads, quiche. A fine chance to learn something new. Plus I will not have to double as a barista when the front counter is short-staffed, I get to lurk in the kitchen and stir the tuna salad.
Of course nobody from the company has contacted me since Tuesday when I was interviewed, but they gave me a copy of the baker's manual so I assume they were pretty serious about hiring me.
