Chris Dwan

Tag: moving

  • Punisher

    You know, The Punisher wasn’t all that bad a movie. Admittedly, I’m not trying to wrap my brain around any of the characters, and I hope to God there isn’t a sequel attempt…but it was what I was in the mood for. The bad guys were bad. One of them was even gay (this is how you know a real bad guy, right? Excuse me…what decade is it again?) The good guy was also pretty bad. The brutality was brutal. Not Jesus-beating brutal, but “throwing through walls and hitting with toilets” brutal. There was a nipple, but it was strip club nipple. There were brief attempts at character development…but they were all quickly and mercifully aborted when more violence came knocking. All in all, a worthwhile viewing…but probably not a good first date flick.

    I’m pretty excited for this summer: Alien vs Predator, Chronicles of Riddick, Spider Man II, Dodge Ball (which looks like a nightmare waiting to happen), I robot, Resident Evil Apocalypse, … there will be lots of brain cell killing goodness to go around.

    Still no job. House not sold yet, though people have looked at it.

  • Balls in the air…

    Too many balls in the air, that is. Old juggling metaphor.

    In which I snivel…

  • Stuff, stuff, stuff

    The packing saga continues. The realtor told us that our house might fetch additional coinage were it not so burdened with all of our crap. “You’re interesting people, and people will remember how neat all your hobbies are, but nothing about the house.” Right. Hide the hobbies. I have to say, in her defense, that the rooms are a *lot* larger without the bookshelves lining the walls, the piles of robotics and computer stuff stacked in the corners, and all of that. We’re going to look downright stylish right about at the moment that the movers arrive.

    Getting our house down to its current level of slick emptiness required only one 5′ x 10′ temporary storage shed, and the judicious use of the storage area in the basement. I’m actually sort of pleased with how things look… though God help help me should I have to figure out any hard math, obscure functions, or make reference to any of my textbooks.

    It occurs to me that, if I can live without those things for three months, I might be able to do it for longer. Sort of like the vegetarian thing: It starts out as a curiosity — can I modify my diet in this way? It ends up as a new and simpler way of living.

    Nah, just kidding. I want my books and other crap back. Give me my piles. Can’t have the house neat, we’d have people over every weekend, and I’d never get my robot arm of death completed.

    Job situation is looking up, but in informal “stay in touch” sort of ways. Still need a solid commitment.

  • Gardening

    Got my garden in today. Realistically, this means that it’s going to be a rough year for everything except the radishes. According to conventional wisdom, it’s *way* too early to be putting in lettuce in Minnesota, and only a little too early for the rest of it. Radishes are tough, love frosts, and will happily grow anyplace sunny with good drainage that’s less sandy than an outright beach. The brutal calculus of the impending move to Rhode Island forces my hand. If I want any sort of a crop out of plants that require 60 days before harvest, I have to start now.

    Also a bunch of yard work in support of the first impression of potential buyers of the house. It’s remarkable how much of an improvement we can make just by raking and dumping a truckload of cedar mulch on the beds. We went from being a little behind the curve to looking well manicured and ready to rock with a half day of fun in the sun and a little sweat over the edging tool. For price performance on yard tune-ups, you really can’t beat edging. Even a totally overgrown and patchy lawn with really razor crisp edges looks well cared for and downright british.

    Yard work and gardening brings back some of my very earliest memories. I remember planting onions in parallel rows with my mother, her showing my the proper spacing by measuring if out with my small hand-widths. Some of these memories are in the third person, clearly built after the fact from pictures and stories I’ve been told…but some of them I believe to be actual recollections.

    Of course, now it’s my little garden, my very own yard. My parents are angling toward retirement, and I’m the one wondering how it is that I’ve gotten so busy with a career that I have to not grow tomatoes this year. I would just abandon them to some new owner of this soil who probably won’t care. If I’m lucky, prospective buyers won’t regard the garden as an unsightly bare patch, devoid of grass. At best, it’ll be a selling point that there is lots of space to park cars during the state fair.

    I feel a good rant about the fundamental transience of all human activity coming on, so I should probably go. Besides, It’s time to pack more of my life into boxes.

    Still need a job. 🙂

  • Sore

    Climbing was good today. I successfully led a 5.9, and toproped a (possibly overrated) 5.10b which was all balance and almost no strength. Took a decent lead fall too, after making it over an undercling, but failing to successfully clip in at the top. The weak point remains my mass. Dropping 10 pounds would would make me jump to 5.11’s, I’m pretty sure.

    Made a perfunctory stab at some yard work. Cleaned the dog craps off the lawn. Note that I don’t own a dog, these are little presents left by my fellow citizens. Raked the remaining leaves up, and put in crabgrass preventer and “filler” seed. Got to have the place looking nice so it’ll fetch a nice price.

    Rented a “mini storage” unit to hold excess stuff so our house will look bigger. The lease form is very similar to that for an apartment, except that you’re not allowed to sleep there (or set up meth labs, or any other stuff of that nature). My boxes of books looked small and sad as I left them in storage. Don’t worry, books. I’ll be back for you. Please don’t mildew.

    Now, back to work on that pesky presentation for Boston.