Last Sunday, when Richard carefully parted the branches and leaves to look, he saw an egg.

Today I stretched as tall as I could on tiptoe in the soggy grass and peered through the foilage to see something fuzzy. As I watched, it raised its head and opened the tiniest little yellow beak.

Momma did too good a job of building the nest so it’s hard to reach – which means our ability to take a picture of the brand new babies is seriously limited. But Richard gave it a good try. It’s blurry, but if you look closely, you can see three little yellow mouths, all open wide.

Last night was the monthly craft night. I packed up the sweater I’m knitting and joined a rather noisy crowd at the house of the woman who has been teaching me to knit. Since she is also the one who is currently fostering a set of kittens, it also became my chance to get a quick kitten fix!

There were lots of children last night, but we designated the dining room an adult’s only room, and for the most part all the kids respected that distinction. After all, they had plenty of toys (the hostess is a well-prepared grandmother) and kittens to play with (at least until we adults snagged the sleepy kittens and took them into the no-children zone – heh heh).

I fully intended to get a lot done on the sweater. However, the minute one of the newer members of craft night brought out her project, that flew out the window. Suddenly it became “learn a new craft!” night and the dining room table sprouted great piles of pastel card stock, pretty decorated papers, double-sided tape and spools of fabric ribbon. We were all making the neatest little photo albums!

It’s one of those projects that when it’s all done it looks so incredibly pretty and crafty that the artistic-deficient (like myself) figure we cannot possibly ever get it right. But it turned out to be fairly simple. You put three squares of card stock in a row, corner to corner, folded horizontally and diagonally, and you muck about with double-sided tape until you can reliably get it off the roll and onto the paper without also getting it stuck to your fingers, your hair, your clothes, or the kittens on your lap. My only worrisome moment was when it came time to pick some of the pretty papers for the contrasts. But even color-matching idiots like me can usually do a pretty good job if we just stick to a basic theme. I used mostly purples and greens, but got daring enough to toss in just a little pale blue. Cut out two squares of thick cardboard for the covers and wrap them in pretty paper; sandwich those and the album with some fabric ribbon, and suddenly it looked pretty good.

I still have a little bit left to do to finish it up (namely find some cardboard for the front cover, since I only got the back cover attached). And I don’t see this as something I’ll be making lots of to use myself. However, it’s pretty enough to fill with pictures and give to someone as a gift. Plus I’m thinking that when my little sister comes down to visit in a few weeks, this would be a fun thing for my sisters and my mom and I to make together. They can all fill theirs with pictures of their kids. And perhaps I’ll just have to fill mine with something else. After all, there are always the cats.

Being on the road made it next to impossible to try to follow any sort of diet or exercise plan. We didn’t touch our bikes for weeks at a stretch. Forget counting Points for food – eating out for every meal made that next to impossible. The consequence of all of this (combined with both of us being sick, over and over again, during the past six months) was that we both gained weight. Not exactly a good thing when our long-term goal was for both of us to get healthier.

We decided to go back to Weight Watchers, We’d stopped actually attending meetings months ago, mainly due to the job travel, and lack of motivation. We don’t need to attend to learn the program – we’ve both proven that when we actually work at it, we can stick to it. But the plan right now is to sit through the meetings; to have a physical reminder once a week of our renewed commitment to losing weight and getting in better shape.

That takes care of the diet part of the ‘getting healthy’ plan. The exercise part has always been more of a challenge for me. However, during lunch the first week at the new job, I discovered that there’s a Curves for Women a few miles away from the office. I thought about it for a little while, but then decided that here was an opportunity I shouldn’t pass up. They’d opened a Curves in our town recently but the hours are such that I wouldn’t have a lot of time by the time I got home from work each night; plus I know myself too well. Once I’m home, I’m home, and going out again – especially to do something as unappealing as exercise – just wasn’t going to happen.

I have never liked gyms because they are noisy and smelly and filled with too many machines that require too many different settings and I have always felt too overwhelmed. Plus the only times I’m able to go to a gym are during the busiest hours, when the classes and machines are all packed. But Curves is different. I think the best thing about it is that it requires absolutely no thought on my part. I go during my lunch hour, and do my workout. It’s perfectly timed so I don’t have to try to remember how many reps I’m supposed to do and at what weight level for each machine. With few exceptions, everyone else there looks a lot like me – a little overweight and out of shape, in baggy t-shirts and grubby sweats and sneakers. Thirty seconds at each station means I don’t have time to start hating any one machine (although to tell the truth I think any time would be long enough for me to develop a deep-seated dislike of the squat machine). Plus the people who work there recognize all of us by name, ask us about our day, remember the details, and pay attention when we don’t show up.

I’ve only been going now for about three weeks so it’s still too early to see how effective this is going to be. But so far I’ve managed to go at least three times per week if not more, and I’ve actually almost enjoyed it.

I am hoping that eventually we’ll be able to get back into bicycling again. After all, Hedwig and Norbert (our bikes) are too new to end up gathering dust in the garage. And I haven’t completely given up hope on the dream of someday cycling around Ireland for a few weeks. But for now, while we’re both settling into new jobs and new routines, and especially while the weather remains a bit soggier than normal for spring, at least I’ve got this to keep me active.

If I look at my struggle with my weight over the past ten years or so, I sometimes get discouraged by how far I haven’t come. But if I simply tell myself that the past is the past, and that what matters is what I do in the present, then I can somehow find the motivation to think that maybe this time we’ll make it happen. It’s another fresh start for both of us. This time might not be the one, and the next time might not be either. But all we can do is keep trying. So. Here we go. Again.

This entry is a collaboration for On Display. This month’s topic is “fresh start.”

While we were at the hardware store today, pondering the merits of brick versus stone to be used in building the raised flower beds in the backyard, I paused before a shelf of assorted lawn art and eyed the selection. This is because amid the usual collection of plaster deer, mushrooms, and fish, lurked a small handful of lawn gnomes.

I looked at Richard. He looked at me. And for a very brief moment, we gave careful consideration to whether or not my parents needed to join the lawn gnome club. Much to my parents’ and sisters’ extreme joy, I am sure, we decided that perhaps some things should simply be kept within Richard’s family. Thus, no lawn gnomes for the Jennifer side of the clan.

However.

It was a few weeks ago that Richard and I, pausing just outside my parents’ front door, agreed that they needed a little lawn toad just like ours (pictured here with Gnigel the gnome).

Conveniently enough, we had purchased our warty little grey toad at that exact hardware store! It had to be fate! We picked out a likely candidate for our nefarious plans, paid for him (and a book on landscaping with stone – see earlier comment about raised garden beds), and then Richard drove us home, while I held the toad on my lap and occasionally made him dance around, just to see if I could get Richard to laugh (it worked).

The plan was to drive by my parents’ house and deposit the toad somewhere in their yard that would be visible enough for them to see him. Eventually. But as we cruised past their house, we noticed a car out front, and decided that a drive-by toading was a bit too risky at that particular time.

So imagine our great amusement when we pulled into our own driveway a few minutes later to discover that our lawn had been the victim of a drive-by flamingo incident! There, stuck into the grass in plain view, was a pink flamingo, standing a few feet high.

It wasn’t too hard to figure out who was responsible. After we moved the flamingo to a ‘safe’ location (because while I’m sure we can find a lovely spot for it once the back yard is complete, for now it has to live on the back porch), I called my parents. At first they tried to pretend they knew nothing about it, but eventually broke down and admitted to the prank.

This is where it started getting fun. First of all I noted that we had no intention of buying anything to retaliate (since, of course, the toad had already been purchased). Then we made plans to meet for dinner. With a bit of clever timing, we arranged to be a few minutes late to the restaurant – just late enough for us to cruise past their house (assured that they had already left) so I could dash up the driveway, plop the toad down on the corner near the sidewalk, and leap back into the car – all coordinated so that at dinner we could truthfully say that we were not planning anything in response to the flamingo, because of course the drive-by toading had already been done.

So far there has been no response, leaving me to believe that the toad has not yet been discovered. But I have faith that he will eventually be spotted.

There are more toads at that hardware store; more silly little grey and warty toads just waiting for homes. And I have two sisters who currently are toadless. Granted one lives in Washington and it might be a bit more difficult to arrange a drive-by toading for her. But we are determined. There will be toads. Oh yes.

After all, they should at least be grateful that it isn’t lawn gnomes.

When we built the house and had them install the custom office desks and shelving, we designated five separate computer stations: one each for our regular computers, one each for work laptops, and the fifth for the file and web server we someday knew we would have.

As I write this, Richard is seated at the fifth station, happily poking away at Linux and configuring whatever it is he’s configuring to turn my old computer into a server. This is because once we got the new laptops, I quickly realized that Hermione was infinitely better than the old desk top, and decided it made more sense to just make her my main computer. This left us with an extra computer with no apparent use – until I suggested that Richard take it, give it a brain wipe, and do whatever it is he wants to do to make it our server.

I did a quick transfer of all my files and then while I was chatting with my mom on the phone, he took apart the old computer, set it up on the fifth desk, and then zipped off to an electronics store with vague mumblings about power strips and surge protectors and cat5 cabling.

I escaped to the bedroom to do more knitting (I’ve already done 7 inches on the sweater – almost at the arms!) while he did the initial install, figuring that I probably didn’t want to be around in case things didn’t work out. While I sat two rooms away, he kept me informed of the antics of his ‘assistant’. Apparently, during the entire install process, Azzie sat on the desk, staring intently at the computer while it made all sorts of odd noises as the install proceeded. Occasionally he would ‘help’ by reaching up to bap at the tower, sitting on Richard’s books while he was trying to read them, and jumping up to stare excitedly whenever the CD drive opened, because he was sure something exciting was just bound to come out.

After the install was complete and he’d done some initial setup, he sent me my login information for our ‘new’ server. Naturally, to fit with the naming theme of the laptops (Hermione and Dumbledore), the server’s name is Hagrid.

It is odd to be someplace so quiet. There are only seven of us in the office, and this includes the two interns who are only there a few days per week. Occasionally construction noise drifts through the walls from the office suites beside us and below us, where they are doing all the remodeling necessary for new tenants. But more often than not, the only sound is generated from outside. A passing boat. The fall of rain. The singing of birds.

A pair of doves has built a nest directly over the back door to the office – the door we rarely use. This door is also located right next to my desk, and so through the glass panes I occasionally see one or the other of them swooping in to land. Directly in front of me are docks and trees, which are often populated by tiny sparrows and swallows, all who often have something to chat about. Occasionally one of the interns, who has a clearer view of the river than I, will point out something and we all spring from our chairs to go see. The otter splashing around. The group of turtles on the far bank. The huge tree floating downstream in the recent rainstorm.

There is a pair of office binoculars that often sits on my desk, simply because that’s where they put it, and every once in a while someone comes along to take them outside, to try to look at the aforementioned turtles/otters/birds a bit closer.

Everyone calls out greetings and farewells when someone enters or leaves the office for the day. When someone makes popcorn, they usually go around offering it to everyone else. Occasionally rubber bands go flying through the air as the estimators try to see how far they can launch. Every once in a while we order lunch in, and then drag a table and chairs into the clearest part of the floor, to sit around and eat Chinese food or pizza together. When someone gets a phone call, we simply put the person on hold and then call out across the office to the intended recipient.

I may not necessarily be one of them in the truest sense, since I’m still struggling to understand all the myriad details about construction, and I will probably never grasp what is required to estimate the cost of a building. But it doesn’t seem to matter to them that what I do is probably just as incomprehensible to them as what they do is to me. There is a refreshing lack of formality in the group, driven by a sense of camaraderie. And they have included me in this without any apparent difficulty at all.

This entry is a collaboration for On Display. This month’s topic is “little things.”

The gardener came by yesterday afternoon to go over everything he’s done so far (the sod and the irrigation system) and to talk about what we’d like him to do next (lay all the paths). While we were walking around the yard, he took us over the arbor gate in the side yard and pointed to one particularly thick clump of roses and leafy vines near the top.

“She kept flying out every time we came through the gate with the wheelbarrow, ” he told us, and then he very carefully parted the vines until we could see what he meant.

Hidden deep within the dense cluster of roses is a perfect little bird’s nest. Atop the neighbor’s roof, a tiny brown house sparrow scolded us irritably until we finally stepped away from her creation.

We checked again today but as of yet there are no eggs. I’m hoping we haven’t managed to chase her away, however. I think it would be wonderful if we had baby birds hatching in our rosebushes. I’m hoping that later we can manage to get pictures – of the nest, of eggs, and eventually of the fledglings inside as the weeks pass. I am also hoping that this is just a sign of things to come for our yard.

I have started knitting the sweater. And I’ve discovered some useful facts about what I am doing.

The first is that when knitting in a circle, if one is very clever and talented, one can somehow manage to actually end up knitting a mobius strip. One will also not actually figure this out until one has spent several hours working on it. While the whole concept of a mobius sweater (which would be as close as I could get to knitting myself a Klein bottle) *does* intrigue the nerd in me, unfortunately its intended recipient probably wouldn’t find it quite so amusing. Or in other words, this discovery required me to take apart the whole darn thing and start over.

The second useful bit of information is that one probably should *not* use a dark colored yarn when learning new things. While the dark color does have the bonus of hiding any mistakes because it’s just too hard to see little flubs, it has the much larger negative of making it extremely hard to see what one is doing.

Regardless of those little setbacks, I’ve managed to still get past the ribbing on the bottom and into the pattern. Of course on row 3 of the pattern itself, I have somehow managed to screw something up and am probably going to have to rip out the entire row and start over. I sat and stared at it for a little while last night, hoping to figure out how I might avoid having to do that. But at least I don’t have to start the entire sweater over. I am viewing this as improvement. Oh yes.

In other news of just how clueless I can be, last night my laptop mysteriously went kaflooey. Every time I typed any letter of the right hand, I did not get letters, but instead got numbers and other odd symbols. While it did make for some surreal conversations with Richard online, I was not a happy camper about this development, sure that I was going to have to poor Hermione back to the store and get it fixed.

This morning while talking to my dad online, on a whim I asked him if he’d ever seen something like this and if he knew how to fix it. “Simple!” he replied, and suggested that I just might want to see if my NumLock key was on.

Uh.

Oops.

So *that’s* what happens when your cat walks across the keyboard.

In my defense, the only time I have ever used a NumLock key is when I’ve got an extended keyboard and am doing data entry. I didn’t even realize this thing *had* a NumLock key!

I pressed it carefully. A little light on the top of the keyboard went off. Amazingly enough, I had normal letters again!

I am just glad that I didn’t end up discovering this while standing in Fry’s Electronics, surrounded by a bunch of white-shirt-clad computer nerds who would all be staring at me with amused and pitying looks that clearly indicated that I apparently Have No Brain.

In other news, in the backyard, we have sod! Granted, just outside the edging they placed around the lawn pieces is a crop of some of the finest weeds we can grow in these here parts (it’s more fun if you say that preceding line with a little bit of a drawl. And also pick your teeth with some hay. Okay. Where was I?) , but it’s a very good start!

Also in other news, Richard flies home tonight. Better yet, he’s given his notice to Benthic Creatures as well so we are both finally free! Free, I say! Woo!

“I have babies,” said the woman who is teaching me to knit.

I perked up immediately, as she knew I would. “How old?”

“Five weeks. Orange and black tabbies and one tri-tabby with a little orange smudge on her head.”

It was no surprise to anyone when I suddenly declared that I was in need of another knitting lesson.

They are still young enough that their eyes have just started to change and they have little quivering bottle-brush tails, and there is still kitten fuzz everywhere and extra wisps of whiskers poking out all over their wide-eyed little faces. They walk with that wide-legged stomp and are just as likely to pounce on invisible things as they are to trip over their own feet.

They chased each others tails and played King of the Hill on my knees and untied my shoelaces and attacked my fingers and chewed on my chin and purred loud rattling purrs and then once they finally collapsed in a tangled heap on my lap, asleep, their foster mom turned to me and said “So. Do you have any questions about knitting you wanted answered?”

Later we put the kittens back into their room, where they protested squeakily and noisily but rather quickly fell back asleep, and she let me look through books and gave me a stitch holder and showed me patterns for woven scarves, and pages on how to estimate sizes and fit sweaters to any body shape.

After work this afternoon I went to a shop in Davis and wandered around pondering hundreds of choices in colors and textures and dozens of types of yarn, and finally someone took pity on me and showed me where I could find simple patterns for children. I picked out a pattern that I could actually decipher, even though it includes twisting stitches and cable stitches. It involves circular needles, which I’ve used before, but there are also double-pointed needles and apparently there are going to be four in use at one time when I reach the sleeves, and basically from what I can figure, I knit the entire sweater in a big circle and there is not a single seam anywhere.

Despite all of that, I got the pattern and the yarn anyway. This is because, at least while reading through pattern, I stumbled only briefly when it came to the directions for the sleeves. But I think the lady with the kittens would be quite happy to help me when I get that far.

I have four skeins of yarn in a lovely deep teal. If all goes well, they will eventually be transformed into a sweater for the smallest of my nephews. Once I’ve made a few for small people who won’t care so much if they aren’t perfect, maybe then I’ll finally have the nerve to tackle something for myself.

If we hadn’t gone wireless in the house, I would have been perfectly content to give up the work laptop. Before we went wireless, work laptops tended to sit in their carrying cases in some dusty corner of the computer room until such time as I had to actually *use* them for work, and only then would they come out to play. It was only after we went wireless that work laptops started getting used on a more regular basis – mainly because suddenly I became mobile.

When I had to turn in my laptop back to Benthic Creatures I didn’t think much of it – not until the following week, when I discovered how annoying it was that I couldn’t just go camp out downstairs and still chat with people online, or curl up in bed with the fireplace on (since it’s been rather cold and soggy lately) while still staying connected.

My first suggestion was that we would get them for our anniversary – a sort of joint gift. Then this weekend I was grumbling about not having a laptop anymore, and suddenly there we were, standing in Fry’s Electronics, weighing the merits of processors and screen sizes and DVD drives.

Mine is named Hermione, because like the character in the books (and like every computer I’ve ever worked with), she’s incredibly smart, but a little bit know-it-all too and not always willing to share. Somehow it seems to fit.

Richard named his Dumbledore. This also fits. It’s kind of fun to see those names on our little home network now – Hermione and Dumbledore. We already have Hedwig and Norbert as our bikes. We should just rename our network workgroup to Hogwarts and be done with it.