The Stuff of Nightmares

I got home late last night and dumped my stuff in the hall. I had been following the Blackhawks’ Game 7 via Twitter and wanted to watch the final period live. As usual, I walked through the mostly dark house to grab some water in the kitchen.

When I walked back through the dining room (the center of my main floor – you have to walk through it to get to any other room), I finally turned on the light. And then I saw the cat puke.

It wasn’t a huge deal, as the cat does occasionally hairball, especially as she sheds her winter coat. And she has a knack for doing so on the dining room rug, just inches from the much-easier-to-clean hardwood.

I grabbed a couple paper towels and the pet stain spray, knelt down, and recoiled in horror.

There were scores – nay, HUNDREDS – of ants crawling in the puke pile. Beyond the pile, the conga line of ants extended at least 3 or 4 feet into my home office.

I had seen a couple scout ants over the weekend and made a mental note to put down traps and shake some of the powder outside, if it ever stops raining. (I’ve been down this road before.) But this meant war.

I corralled the cat and locked her safely into the upstairs portion of the house. Then I went to work, killing the conga line mid-step and scrubbing away all the evidence. I sprayed a bit between the back door and its storm door, and as soon as it stops raining and dries out, I’ll go hunt for a hill in the backyard.

But when I laid down to sleep, I kept picturing the swarm, pulsing and undulating across my dining room. Shudder. I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

This morning, there was no evidence of the ants. I’m pretty good about keeping food wrapped up, and they seem to mostly ignore the cat food. Hopefully with some vigilance and the right outdoor chemicals, there won’t be a repeat.

Who Still Uses the Yellow Pages?

A few weeks ago, I saw something glistening in the snowdrift on my driveway. (Ok, maybe more than a few weeks ago. I’m behind.) By the glow of the porchlight, I saw a blue bag. I pulled, and discovered a Yellow Pages. Argh. At least this year I didn’t get two, I thought, since that has been the case every year I’ve lived here.

It was bitterly cold, so rather than trying to break the ice on the recycle bin to dump it directly, I carried the bag into the house, set it on the mat by my dripping boots, and forgot about it until morning. As I was straightening up the next morning, I looked and realized that the bag held two copies: a full size white/yellow pages combo and a smaller “fun sized” version that appears to just have some selected (higher priced?) Yellow Pages ads. Perhaps they think I’ll use the small one as a desk reference instead of a doorstop?

But the fun didn’t end there. Mere minutes later, I went to retrieve my newspapers from the end of the driveway/snowbank/neighbors’ yard. (I am consistently amazed that three papers, delivered by the same person at the same time, can end up so widely dispersed.) As I turned and walked back to the house in daylight, I saw another blue bag sitting on my front steps.

So apparently the legacy of this house being a two-unit continues? And they chose to leave one on the driveway and one on the steps? They also spammed the vacant houses on the block – I wonder how long their editions will sit before they disintegrate under the spring rain.

A recent HubSpot cartoon captured this nicely.

The whole yellow pages concept has outlived its lifespan. When was the last time you consulted the physical book when you need a number? I use Google, often from my phone, when I need to find a restaurant or business. Plus, I can read reviews rather than relying merely on a company’s own words. If I need a plumber or other contractor, I post something on Facebook and usually get a half dozen solid recommendations in a couple hours, which is far better than randomly picking someone out of the yellow pages.

And yet companies still pay for yellow pages ads. But who are they targeting? Scott Stratten of UnMarketing wrote a fantastic post about the phenomenon, examining the case that people use to justify the directories’ continued existence: “They work in some markets! People still use them! Like old folks, shut-ins and people who are still locked into AOL contracts!”

What do you think? Do you still see a use for the yellow pages? If you’re in marketing, is it part of your mix? As a consumer, when was the last time you cracked open the pages – or did it even make it indoors?

There are opt-out options, which I’ve now completed. Fingers crossed I don’t get more.

Hat tip to HubSpot for the spot-on cartoon

Snug as a Bug…

We’ve had snow twice in the last week. Twice! Saturday’s rain and drizzle turned into snow mid-afternoon, though thankfully didn’t stick. But Monday morning, I woke up to a dusting of snow on the grass, rooftops and tulips. It could be worse, though. Colleagues in Wisconsin have had 6+ inches of accumulation this week. At least our snow melted by noon.

While I’m not thrilled with the late-season cold snap, I’ve been trying to find the silver lining. I had new windows installed mid-March, so at least the cold is giving me a chance to test the improvement in warmth over the leaky old windows.

Like last time, I went with Advanced Window Systems out of Loves Park. They have been fabulous both times I’ve worked with them. And the new windows have already proved their worth, keeping out the cold and wind. It also seems quieter  upstairs, with less ambient street noise.

My cold-weather testing has conclusive results, so now I need to do more spring testing and learn how well the new windows let in the fresh air. I’ve had a couple days to enjoy the breeze, but I’m ready for more extensive testing.

Scraps of the Day

What do you do with the scraps of your day?

How do you make the most of your cookie dough scraps of time?

As I write, I’m in that weird hour between when work “ends” and class begins. In reality, it’s about 45 minutes, by the time I factor in walking to class and getting settled before the Regression Analysis talking starts. (Shudder.)

Later this evening, I’ll have 40 minutes before my train departure. Again, it’s not really enough time to “do” anything of any consequence. And with no place to sit at Union Station, I can’t open up the laptop and write or work. It’s precarious in-between time. I usually end up chatting with a classmate, which is great, but I’d rather be home – and in bed – 40 minutes earlier.

At work, the worst days are those with several 30 minute gaps between five or six meetings. Those 30 minute blocks aren’t enough time to really accomplish any project or task that requires attention, especially after you spend a couple minutes reading the emails that came in during your meeting and prepping for the next meeting. What’s left? 20 minutes?

The other night, I was thinking that time isn’t like cookie dough. You can’t combine the scraps, roll them out and end up with tasty sugar cookies.

But maybe time is like chocolate chip cookie dough. The little scraps can be eaten raw, or blended into ice cream.

So I spend my scraps reading blogs or tweets, by reading the newspaper, or making lists, all the while feeling like I’m just killing time. And given how precious time is, that frustrates me.

Am I missing something? What strategies do you have for making the most of those scraps of time?

5 Years at Home

It’s my fifth housiversary!

The first summer

I closed on this house five years ago today. On previous housiversaries, I’ve blogged about that first day, and about random spring cleaning.

But this morning, I was feeling reflective. We tend to do that on birthdays and anniversaries that are divisible by 5.

When the alarm went off, I laid in bed for a few minutes, stretching and yawning, listening to talk radio as my brain woke up. I gazed over the river and watched the sunrise sparkle and shimmer on the water, promising another bright spring day.

Sure, I’ve done a lot of improvements, replaced a lot of windows and doors, painted, maintained, etc. And there are still things left undone from the very first to-do lists.

But more than anything, I’ve made this a home in a way that none of my apartments ever were. Living in a place over an extended period of time, you get comfortable. You try things in different places and learn that the Christmas tree fits best along that wall, or the best place to put the patio table for optimum sunshine. Every spring, the bulbs planted that first fall continue to delight.

You spread out, and hang souvenirs and photos throughout the house. Add shelves, configure storage, and reconfigure six months later when you find a better solution. You add scuffs to the walls and baseboards from day-to-day living and moving around.

The place is thick with memories. From turning the key that first day to celebrating new jobs, birthdays and grad school to surviving snowfalls and basement geysers, every room brings back a flood of memories and moments, from the monumental to the mundane.

Most of all, though, it’s home. There’s a sense of relief that envelops me as I cross the threshold after a rough day. It’s knowing that I don’t have to abide by an Alzheimer’s-addled landlord who forgot he cashed my check and threatened eviction.

And it’s community. I moved to Elgin knowing barely anyone, and not really sure I knew what I was getting into. But the neighbors and community I have found have surpassed my wildest expectations and make the entire neighborhood and city, beyond my property lines, truly home.

So here’s to the first five years. They weren’t perfect, and I really, really need to finally replace those damn light fixtures that have bugged me since Day 1, but I’m lucky to have made such a great home. Here’s to many more.

Spring-ization

We have winterization in our lexicon, but not the springtime equivalent. Regardless, that’s how I spent part of my Saturday.

I had four more windows replaced a couple weeks ago (both bathrooms, guest room and upstairs hallway – the latter used to funnel cold air directly into my bedroom), so I had no storm windows to put away this year. Now, I’ve replaced all the windows in the living areas of the house. All that remain are the back hallway, basement and front porch, none of which are a huge priority.

Tulips! And daffodils!

I also cleaned out a winter’s worth of detritus from my flower beds and backyard. I filled an entire yard bag with dead leaves and other junk, and was thrilled to find stuff already sprouting underneath. In the front beds, I had seen tulips beginning to grow, but after removing the leaves, I found daffodil sprouts, too. Along the back fence, I found the early shoots that will become June’s tiger lilies.

Inside, I drained and cleaned the humidifiers, and now they’re air drying until I store them for the summer. I dusted and organized.

Still to do:

The missing piece was finally found in the backyard once the snow melted.

Fix the soffit that the blizzard tore off the side of the garage. Though it’s not very high, it requires a ladder, and thus I won’t tackle this quick fix unless I have someone spot me. Especially at the back of the house, I’m wary of doing anything where I could fall and no one would notice.

Close, but not quite latchable

Fix the frost heave/front gate situation. A couple years ago, a frost heave appeared in the middle of my driveway. As soon as the weather warmed, it collapsed back into itself, enabling me to seal it and move on. A couple weeks ago, when I first tried to close the gates, I couldn’t get the gate over the heave. Now, it’s collapsed, so I can close the gates, but they’re misaligned so they don’t meet in the middle and latch. I’m weighing my options: raise up the gates (oh-so-heavy and cumbersome; would require a second and potentially third set of hands) and install new hinges, sand off the bottom of the gate that currently rests on the ground, or just leave hope that the warm weather adjusts the driveway a bit more.

Put away the boots and clean, clean, clean. I’m afraid that putting away my winter boots right now might tempt fate, so I’ll hold off at least another week on this one. I also need to pull out the hose, turn on the water and get ready to plant.

And I can’t wait to drag the patio furniture out for the year.

What do you have to do for spring?

Signs of Spring

Friday’s post sparked a Facebook discussion about the role of signs in elections.

They’re often the first sign of a coming election, sprouting up like dandelions from still-frozen ground. Usually patriotic blue or red, with festive stars, but the last few years, you’ll see attention-grabbing green, purple and yellow.

But how effective are they? Do signs influence elections? They must, or candidates wouldn’t allocate precious campaign dollars towards them.

The irony of the library board situation I mentioned Friday is that this slate of candidates has plastered their green and white signs all over town, including in tree banks and on public right-of-ways where they’re technically verboten. Yet, the same trio hasn’t bothered to attend candidate forums or answer questionnaires about their positions.

Note the three green and white signs within about 100 feet. And there were additional signs around the corner of this busy west-side intersection

While out for a long, slow, cold 7 miler Sunday, I was mulling over the sign conundrum. I started counting the green and white slate signs, losing count when I hit 20. They were often clustered together with other candidates, and seemed to be sprinkled heavily at major intersections.

Also interesting to observe were how the different signs were paired. Officially, our municipal elections are non-partisan. We get to pick three council members out of ten candidates, and one mayor from two candidates. Several alliances have sprung up, some formal, most informal, and this is sometimes reflected by how the signs are grouped.

But not always.

And how do the signs end up so strategically placed? The times I’ve hosted a sign in my yard (including my current Curtin for Council sign), I’ve always asked for it. But I’ve heard numerous anecdotes of signs magically appearing overnight, or disappearing, as the case may be. This seems particularly prevalent on highly visible blocks.

Do residents know who these candidates are when signs appear on their yard? Do they just not bother to remove them? Are they inspired to go look up information on the candidate in question? Do they know that the candidates on their sign refuse to answer questions?

While running Sunday, I paused a couple times to take pictures. I couldn’t get a good, non-glared shot of the biggest sign farm I saw along McLean, where at least a dozen signs clustered in a vacant lot, competing for attention.

I wonder how long these signs will stick around after the election. Both Keith Farnham and Michael Noland were elected in November, and yet their signs remain all over town.

Do signs influence your political choices? Would you ever vote for someone just because you see their signs all over the place and think, “Hey, they must be popular/good/wealthy if they have so many signs”? Or do you use signs to become aware of which candidates are running, and do your research from there?

Showing Up: A Sign of Respect

Elgin will hold municipal elections on April 5. Like the political nerd I am, I’ve spent part of my spring break going to candidate forums. You can read all the profiles you want, but there’s something about hearing candidates answer questions live, without hours to carefully choose written words, that shows their true character and intentions.

Last night’s forum was held at the Gail Borden Library, which is a phenomenal asset to our town. The forum was for mayoral and library board candidates.

Typically, it’s these smallest elections – for library boards, school boards, park districts, etc – that get overlooked. Even politically engaged citizens who do their homework on the marquee races (mayor and city council, in this case) often shrug and close their eyes when they get to that part of the ballot.

But they’re just as important as the higher profile positions. In this case, the library board manages taxpayer dollars and sets the direction of the library. Given how much I get out of the library, it’s a part of my tax bill I’m happy to pay – but I want to know that those dollars are being spent wisely. And one of the current board members – elected the last time around with the usual amount of voter indifference – has proved to be an obstacle to progress, demonstrating just how important it is to choose our board wisely.

Given this history, I really wanted to hear from the library candidates. Essentially, two “slates” have formed among the nine candidates running for five seats. I was curious to hear the differences between the slates, as politicians often try to cater towards voters by not taking any position that could be remotely controversial. (I believe all candidates last night agreed that they do indeed like books.)

But three of the candidates didn’t bother to show up last night.

One of the “slates,” consisting of Victor LaPorte, Richard Wallett and Penny Wegman, skipped the forum entirely. (They’re the trio on the green signs around town.)

While this made for a rather amicable forum, it wasn’t fair to voters, though it certainly made my decision easier.

By not bothering to show up at the only forum for library candidates, co-hosted by the library itself, Wegman, LaPorte and Wallett showed they don’t respect voters, the process or the library.

If elected, would they bother showing up at meetings? Would they bother listening to constituents?

Let’s not find out. But do show up at the polls.

Note: After this post inspired the comments below and a Facebook discussion, I wrote a follow-up post on the role of signs in an election.

Happy Runniversary

A year ago today, I started the Couch-to-5k program with a 20 minute workout that alternated 60 seconds of running with 90 seconds of walking.

Before my very first 5k, the Elgin Fox Trot, Memorial Day 2010

Now, I’m just a few weeks from my second half marathon.

A year ago, those first several runs were terrible. Even though I’d been working out for a year – strength training, kickboxing, pilates, etc – running was an entirely different beast.

Now, even when the runs are tough – like after some rigorous strength training – I love being out in the fresh air, alone with my thoughts, quiet except for my feet hitting the sidewalk.

Finishing the Survivor Huskie 5k Trail Run in December

And I love the running community – fantastic people who have encouraged me, advised me, and pushed me to try new things. Challenge is good.

So here’s to another great year of running! I have several races scheduled, and I’m looking forward to getting even more out of them.

Unfortunately, a full day of meetings (both work and otherwise) conspired against a run today. I was willing to brave the steady rain and falling slush for a commemorative run, but never had enough a big enough break. But that’s ok. I have plenty more runs in my future, as long as I stay smart with my training and don’t get hurt.

Here’s to many more happy runniversaries for all my #runnerds friends! How do you celebrate your running milestones?

Piles

I spent much of the weekend working on the piles that have accumulated over the past few weeks.

The newspaper pile. I’ve always subscribed to two papers (the Tribune and the Elgin Courier-News), but for my Finance class, we also had to read the Wall Street Journal. I’ve actually grown to really like reading the WSJ – their foreign coverage is especially fantastic. I just don’t have time to read 3 daily newspapers, yet I can’t bear to throw away anything unread. Every week for class, I skimmed through the relevant sections, setting others aside to read later. As a result, quite the pile developed on my coffee table. Digging through, I realized the bottom of the pile had a couple sections from Feb 9. I cleared through much of it this weekend, and hope to kill off the pile entirely before classes resume on March 29.

The library pile. During my Friday Free Day, before I got mired at the mechanic, I stopped by the library where I donated the 52 books i’ve been carting around in my trunk since January. I also picked out a few from my ever-growing list to read during my week off. I then proceeded to tear through all 294 pages of Stacey Ballis’ Room for Improvement before bed Friday night. (Granted, spending 4 hours stuck at the mechanic helped.) It was fabulously light and engaging, sugary enough to cleanse my palette of corporate finance terms and the quest for mu. I also grabbed Flannery O’Connor’s Every Thing That Rises Must Converge (my other fiction pick), and two non-fiction pieces that received rave reviews: What We Eat When We Eat Alone (a sociology/cookbook hybrid) and The Unwanted Sound of Everything We Want: A Book About Noise. I hope to get through all before getting too bogged down by school reading.

The Winter Quarter Cast-Off Pile. This one I didn’t touch all weekend. It hasn’t moved since Tuesday afternoon when I hit “send” on my Statistics final. I’ll probably lump all the loose paperwork into a folder and file on my “School” shelf, next to abandoned undergrad notebooks that I can’t bear to part with. After all, who knows when I’ll need my notes from Medieval Warfare, Springtime for Hitler or Wealth, Power & Virtue?

The laundry pile. Nothing special, just the typical week’s worth of laundry.

The Goodwill pile. Over Christmas break, I tried on every piece of clothing I owned and filled two boxes with things that are too big or I just don’t wear. After moving the boxes around my bedroom and the guest room, I finally took them to Goodwill over the weekend.

The book pile. Also over Christmas, I rounded up about 50 books that have been stashed in the basement since I moved in. If I haven’t missed them in five years, I might as well donate them. The boxes made it to my trunk, where they’ve been riding around for weeks. Finally, Friday I dropped them off to donate to the library.

I feel much better now that some of the piles are gone. Now if only I could keep new ones from forming…