September 2002

Working like a crazy little monkey lately; I have a large pile of work I’ve been working to complete before disappearing to WEMT training for the next two weeks. Conspiring to help me miss my deadlines are a horrid bug having to do with the building of shared objects that no one else seems to be able to understand and the perfect house arriving and needing tons of time for writing of contracts and finding of financing, mixed with just a touch of credit history bureau mistakes and car trouble.

The house is lovely. It’s in Weathersfield, Vermont, just one small mile from Downers. It comes with a 1956 John Deere 420W Tractor with brush hog and scraper blade and a ’79 Chevy pickup.

I went and helped carry a body out of the Whites last Thursday with the Upper Valley Wilderness Response Team. It was a long day; 3.5 miles and 3300 feet up to Madison Hut, or nearly so, and then back down with the litter. A big team from SOLO showed up with two instructors… It turned out to be the first section of the WEMT class that I will be joining on Monday for part two. I know both of the instructors from previous classes, and they seemed pleased that I will be coming for part two.


She was two. The family was flying to Disneyland when the terrorists slaughtered the flight attendants, stabbed the pilots to death, and drove the plane into the building. . . .

bin Laden’s lackeys killed her–and did so to ensure that other fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters died as well, preferably by the tens of thousands. This little girl’s death wasn’t even a comma in the manifesto they hoped to write. They made sure that her last moments alive were filled with horror and blood, screams and fear; they made sure that the last thing she saw was the desperate faces of her parents, insisting that everything was okay, we’re going to see Mickey, holding out a favorite toy with numb hands, making up a happy lie. And then she was fire and then she was ash.

Most of what I saw, no one needs to know.

– Anonymous Shanksville volunteer fire fighter

We are in our new normalcy. It’s not the normalcy we had before. We’re without our loved ones. It certainly will never be the normalcy we had on Sept. 10.

– Barbara Minervino, wife of WTC victim

Last night around nine-thirty, the phone rang. It was my friend, Steve. He apologized for calling so late but explained that the northern lights were visible and that we should check them out. As it turned out, Calvin, our older boy, had just gotten out of bed and come downstairs on some trumped-up excuse so he, Heather, and I headed outside to investigate.

At first we couldn’t see much except stars, although the clear sky was very bright to the northeast. The amount of light was what you might expect if Hanover had grown to the size of Philadelphia. After a few minutes, the sky began to change. Streaks and curtains of lights began to become apparent. The area of sky affected grew from 45 to 90 degrees of the horizon and extended over our heads. Where the lights were dancing, all but the brightest stars were obscured as though by clouds. At the ends of the sheets of light, deep reds appeared. In the center of the lighted area of the sky, luminous patches of sky blue and green flashed and fluttered. The streaks and curtains moved and flickered as though powerful lights were being played on clouds. For several minutes, we were completely absorbed by the vivid phenomenon. The effect was not subtle and we could hear neighbors enjoying the spectacle as well.

It was the first time any of the three of us had seen the northern lights. We were all very excited and impressed.

Finally managed to get myself together to go out for a ride… 8.5 miles… A shortish ride.

It is a lovely day.

I put pedals with toe clips on my bike the other day. I’d been having problems with my feeties slipping off the pedals when downshifting and I wanted to get power out of more of the cycle for each footie. Of course, when I went biking the day before yesterday, I fell for the first time, on a nice comfy grass hummock in the middle of a large puddle of mud. I got off easy; just a small bruise.

Today I decide to reverse one of my usual loops. I almost always end my ride by climbing up an old logging road from a rail trail; today I started out skittering and hopping down the logging road to the rail trail. Quite fun until I got to the bottom where I made a fairly sharp turn to the right onto the gravel rail trail. My wheels slipped out from under me (I guess I leaned into the turn) and down I went.

I fell a second time, just before getting home… Onto grass, so except for yet another small bruise that one was okay.

Two reasons why toe clips and EMT training do not mix. 1) Understanding of ‘aggressive wound cleaning’. 2) Hard plastic pocket cpr mask hurts when smashed between femur and ground.

The jury is still out on the toe clips. There are definitely aspects of ‘clipping’ that I like, but I suspect that offroad clipping may be unhealthy for me. Maybe I just need more practice with them. It’s too bad you can’t take off the clips when you leave the road.

When I got home I let my older boy (4) help me clean the road rash on my leg. I’m usually scrubbing dirt out of his scrapes so I thought he might like to try the other end of the gauze pad, and he did. He’s very compassionate.

I still don’t feel like working.

I really like the desktop plugin for LJ except that it doesn’t let you set a subject for your posting.

These hamsters are boring; bring me new ones.

My horoscope is right; I have a lot of work to do but I don’t feel like doing any of it. I’m too apathetic to even surf the web.

One of these minutes I’ll work up the motivation and go for a bike ride.


Whose bright idea was it to code a DAV client in ‘C’?

Next Page »