Cookies For Sale

I finished Accounting. I think it was the first really useful class I took. Some others have given me new points of view, but the majority of the information has been worthless. Yay for hard Accounting.

Today’s Exploit:

I sold some cookies today. 

I have been spending my free few days between turning in my final project for Human Resource Management and the start of my next classes reading and making cookies. Also I have been avoiding cleaning, but that is not important. 

I sent some cookies with H. one day. And one day I took some to his rig myself. While I was there H’s friend Slick ate six cookies. I heard a rumor that he at most of the rest of them later that evening. 

Then H. came home and said his driller had requested some White Chocolate Macadamia cookies. I assumed that they were the new favorites since I hadn’t made any oatmeal ones in a while. 

But no. 

He wanted some to take home to his family and wanted to pay for them. 

So I did my first ever calculation for how much to charge for cookies, which took longer than the making of the cookies. I might have to add a few cents for calculation costs. 

Then I made a bazillion cookies, because the recipe made a lot. 

And I sent them to the rig.

I feel silly having sent them in a ziplock bag instead of a real cookie bag, the way we used to get them from the Donut Ranch Bakery. Also, I need to design some stickers for the cookie bags! 

Agh!

So much to do. 

And I already had 731405 things on my list.

They Plague Me

I have been reading Terry Pratchett continuously for the past 2.475 months. I still have many books to go before I finish them all. Yet there are nowhere near enough of them left.

Today’s Exploit:

Another mouse is in our trailer. It was on my bed again the other night. I yelled at it and flailed around trying to throw it off my bed and into never-never land where it will live it’s life in rodent heaven and never want to climb on my bed again. 

Today I did laundry and washed my sheets to cleanse them of mouse filth.

Ew.

Also, today, George told me that he saved my life last night without me knowing it. He shot the mouse as it was making a dash for my room. Then he shot it again as it tried to escape from it’s spot under the stove. 

I’m not sure which makes me more nervous. The mouse or George.

At least it didn’t come and run around on my bed again. 

My sheets won’t last very long if it keeps doing that, since I have to wash them vigorously after being touched by the horrible, horrible monster. 

I think that this is one situation in which I would welcome Oni, and not hate her when she tries to sleep behind my knees. 

AAAAHHHH! They’re EVERYWHERE!

My strawberry preserves are pretty syrupy, but they are really good on ice cream, with some chocolate. And they are good on scones and waffles.

Today’s Exploit:

The other week I did yard work. I think I mentioned a garden.

The other thing that happened was an infestation.

We were out in the yard and Klay was trying out the weed puller tool. And like any kid (I know I did it a time or two), he managed to throw a lot of dirt in his own face. So I took him into the bathroom where he panicked when I tried to use eyedrops to get the dirt out of his eyes and was just fine with “water” being dropped in his eyes. 

While we were all crowded in there trying to get the dirt out a dog came in. The neighbor dog digs under the fence and H. left the door open inviting it in. The dog was lead out, and the dirt crisis was managed and all was good until H. noticed a tickle.

He found a tick on his side.

Ew.

He killed it with a lighter and started making dinner.

Then he found another one.

We couldn’t decide if this was from working in the yard, because I didn’t seem to have any, or from the dog.

Upon inspection the wall by the back door had several ticks, and the bathroom had more than desirable.  

We thought it must be the dog, since they were mostly where the dog had been.

But then H. went to the garage and shook his shirt out and several more fell off.  

Gah.

Nothing like the creepy-crawlies right before going to bed.

That night he sprayed the yard with tick-and-other-bug spray, and watched as multitudes tried to climb up the wall to escape.

Turns out it was the yard and the crazy-super-tall-spiky-poky plants he’d been pulling. 

The next day he sprayed again, and again.

The back patio looked like a rain storm, just before too many raindrops fall and all the concrete turns dark with the wet.

SO MANY!

I also spent that night going over the hallway and the bedroom inch by inch with a flashlight, a paper and a candle to make sure that they were not going to attack in the night.

Everywhere.

I get the creepies just thinking about it.

Of Snails and Pokeys and Bluebonnets

I am learning Accounting! Finally. Something I can use! And it’s really hard. Credit only sometimes means positive and debit only sometimes means negative. I thought math was supposed to be easier than this. Calculus is easier.

Today’s Exploit:

I have been longing for a garden for years. I have big plans for when I own a house, for a billion flowers in the front yard, and raised vegetable gardens and fruit trees in the back yard. I want so many kinds of trees I’ll probably end up with an orchard. And I want a swing set.

And LOTS of party lights and wind chimes and lightening bugs. 

*Side note: lightening bugs are pretty awesome, I see them sometimes if I go running in the late evening at the right trail down by the river.

This year H. decided to fix his yard, because he now lives alone and is in charge of all of this stuff and actually has a yard. So I gave orders on how to do it and played in the dirt and discovered that Texas has some super large snail shells, and lots of them still have snails in them.

I got to plant flowers along the walk way, and told H. to pull all the scary bull nettle super-duper-quadruple-stickery-and-poky giants that lived in the back yard (that are actually called Prickly Poppies). They were probably 4.527 feet tall. And leather gloves don’t do much to dissuade the stickers from sticking you. (I meant to help, but then I had to do homework and it took lots longer than expected.)

Then he added grass seed to the big gap where the monster pokeys were, and a timed sprinkler system to the back yard and drip hose to the walkway. So the flowers are getting lots and lots of water and not interested in flowering anymore, but H. won’t listen to me and they are still getting lots of water. 

Lastly I planted some bulb plants that I can’t remember the name of, but have big pretty orange and red flowers and a transplanted bluebonnet that I rescued from the middle of the yard. They are along the back fence where they get plenty of scorching light and the sprinkler still hits them. Who knows if we made it before the end of bulb-season, but maybe next year, and maybe they will put up leaves. Maybe. 

My Family is Growing

I am taking 2 classes right now, this evidently means that I am a full time student.

Also, Accounting is hard.

Today’s Exploit:

My family is growing.

Ok, I think you have been introduced to all of them, but they are growing up.

They all have their very own REAL pots now.

I spent the afternoon the other day mixing up dirt to add to Allie and to pot Jack in a pot instead of the bottom of a plastic jug. And also to pot Pete in a pot that won’t blow over when someone walks by or sneezes three doors down.

Aren’t they lovely?

This is where they live when I am at home and they are not living in a crate or on the ground at a rig.

Petey has new needles, and I am excited that he is not dead after being left alone on my trip to Canada, when Cupcake was in Wyoming and not available to water him.

I got the pot before I the new growth, I didn't intend to be matchy-matchy.

And Jack has turned out to be a Jacky, with very lovely flowers. The flowers are much preferred to the fruit thingies that she produces.

She has so many buds!

I Feel Like This Makes Me a Big Kid

I had a long list of posts to write about last night. 

Naturally they are all gone because I didn’t have a piece of paper within arm’s reach at the time.

Today’s Exploit:

I was very brave today.

I did something that I have never done alone before.

It was a big step for me in my kitchen experimentationalism, or something.

Anyway.

The thing I did.

I did it by myself.

For the first time ever.

I canned!

They sealed and everything, on the first try!

That was somewhat less exciting than I had hoped.

But the canning was not.

Yesterday I stopped at a truck on the side of the road with H. to buy some strawberries.  I don’t know if I have mentioned it before, but I live rather near the strawberry capital of Texas, and they make sure you know it.  They have a water tower painted like a strawberry, a huge sign saying “Home of the Strawberry Festival” and everything is painted green and red.  Everything.

So I got a flat of Poteet strawberries.  That’s a lot of strawberries.

I helped Tammy make some jam once, and I helped my dad make some syrup a few times, but I never did it by myself, and I was never in charge. 

So I looked up a recipe for Strawberry Preserves, disregarded it, and looked up instructions on what to do with the jars to make them seal.  

Then I gave up on recipes and tried to remember what we did to make syrup.

I didn’t have any dish washing gloves, that was a major setback. But I got some cool silicone tongs to make up for it.

I hulled 4 pints of the strawberries with my spring-loaded-super-duper-strawberry-huller from Aunt Sarah, and then I sliced them with my extra-sharp-and-kinda-scary-strawberry-chopper/slicer from Cupcake.

It took me about 20.462 minutes to do a million strawberries.

Then I added some sugar and left it to sit overnight in the fridge. 

Today I got out my steamer to my BIG pot, that I magically saved, and put my jars in it, and put my strawberries in my other pot to simmer.

When the jars were hot and the strawberry juice was no longer opaque I used my antique ladle, because it’s the only one I have, to add the preserves to the jars.  I sealed them and turned them upside down on a white towel, because that’s what Tammy did, and because I only have white towels. 

I waited and waited for them to pop to mean that they were sealed, but they never did.  So I checked and they were sealed, they just didn’t do the fun part. 

And now I have 6 jars of home-grown strawberry preserves, that may turn out to be strawberry syrup, but that’s ok because I made it.

By myself.

Aren't they pretty strawberries? They were the small ones, and therefore less expensive, but it also meant I got more of them. Yay

It Was a Bit Drafty, Just Didn’t Realize the Extent

We had a fire today. We had to stop working so that the roughnecks could put on their firefighter hats and save the day. 

PS A rig is not a good place for a fire, the whole thing can blow up. Especially if we have gas returns.

Today’s Exploit:

I’ve had another wardrobe malfunction. 

It was rather embarrassing.

I couldn’t even go hide afterward, they made me keep working.

Ok, I don’t know if anyone else actually noticed, but they could have!

Anyway...I was doing my job, getting the tool ready for the new run. I was all ready to go and had even moved it to the catwalk (it’s really called that) to be ready to pick it up.

*Side note* *My tool is about 30 feet long, weights about 180 pounds and requires the air-hoist, or hydraulic-hoist, or whatever-hoist to lift it to the rig floor.* 

Then they lowered down the old one, so that I could pull it down the catwalk (it’s really called that) and swap the lifting mechanism to the new tool.

Before the bottom of the tool reaches the catwalk (it’s really called that) it hits a ledge, where they can leave big collars and drill pipe that they might need soon. I put my foot up on the v-door for leverage and pulled the tool off the ledge. 

RRRRIIIIIPPPP!!!!!!!!!

My thoughts: Crap, my pants ripped, I hope no one notices. I didn’t think these ones were that old, and they don’t even look worn.

I pulled the tool down along the catwalk (it’s really called that) and set it down as gently as possible.

That was when I got a chance to look at the RRRRIIIIIPPPP.

No chance it was just a small one. Oh no. They ripped from the middle of my zipper down to the middle of my thigh. That’s a good 10 inches. 

So, there I was, parading up and down the catwalk (it’s really called that) with a brand new fashion statement going on. Not a particularly good one, either. 

Since everyone was waiting on me, I had the joy of picking up the other tool, going up to the rig floor to make sure it was sitting properly in the collar and putting a new o-ring on the flow sleeve.

It wasn’t until I went down to change into my backup pants that I realized how visible my electric pink and garish purple leopard print panties were.

Oh joy.

I Knew I Was a Beast of Burden, But Really?

I have been waiting for a year to find out what the date 22 March 2013 holds that is significant. I was told that if I waited until then I would find out.  I am still waiting.  Rawr.

Today’s Exploit:

I work in a horse trailer now. I am no longer worthy of a box. This is sad, in case you were unsure about that transition.

The box was insulated, and had a working AC unit and blocked the noise, well most of it, of a drilling rig. As much as I complained about it, I rather liked the box. 

My current working conditions are sweaty, loud and wobbly. 

The AC barely works, and does not keep up with spring temperatures. I dread summer. Not to mention, part of it fell on my face the other day. And I didn’t even get a black eye to show for it. Stupid AC. 

I got a little fan, and it helps a little. Sadly, I’m thinking I should have gotten the super-extra-mammoth-industrial-17 speed fan. It might have put a dent in this heat. 

The loud part comes from the fact that my horse trailer is made from some plywood. Just thick enough that a standard cabinet handle won’t work properly. It has no insulation, thus the heat, and the cold at night. (It was actually in the 30s the last 2 days.) And it sounds like I am on the rig floor with my ear against the loudest mechanism. It may be worse. It may be that I have a funnel gathering all of the noise and maximizing it to feed into my ears on the itty-bitty end. And that is on top of the standard buzzing of the transformer, and the AC fan trying it’s hardest to blow hot air into the sweltering mess.

The trailer is on wheels, naturally, but they didn’t think it necessary to stabilize it. Therefore it rocks like a see-saw when you sneeze, and wobbles awkwardly if you dare to breathe. It also dances in the wind and jitters in the rain. I have to work off my “sea legs” every time I get out for some natural light.

By the way, this trailer does not have any windows, the door latch barely works and there is no handle to pull the door closed. It’s fun, you get to slam the door as hard as possible without getting fingers in the way, or letting the wind catch it about 23 times before it latches. 

A Ski Trip for Texans

On my way home I stopped at the office to talk to Joanne, the HR person. She wanted to make sure I wasn’t too traumatized by my experiences in Canada. She asked me a few times if I was ok and then we talked about other things for a few hours. 

Her daughter wants to be an engineer and a baker, too. I like her already and we’ve never met. I hope she grows up to be everything she dreams of.

Today’s Exploit:

I went home for a visit. I took H. and Klay with me. I wanted to make them ski. I knew it would be great entertainment. I imagined graphic scenes of a snowball with skis and poles rolling down the hill and yelling. And naturally I’d be skiing gracefully behind it laughing and helping it up at the bottom. As for Klay, I figured he’d pick it up in no time at all.

And it was great entertainment while my dad was teaching Klay. I saw a few good crashes, and the skis came off a few times while flailing and trying to fall sideways. But then Dad had to go back to work and the teaching was left entirely to me. 

That was scary. 

I’m not that great a skier, how am I supposed to teach a four year old?

So we did a few more runs before he decided it was too hard and started telling me he was scared. Then I got irritated and hungry and decided we should stop before I left him in the middle of a windy hill. 

So we had lunch and I switched to a snowboard, which is not the best of ideas in my opinion, I’m just getting somewhat comfortable at the skiing thing. 

I went with H. up the kiddy hill and I made us wreck when getting off the lift. Off to a good start. 

But then H. took a wrong turn and I had to climb back up the hill to follow him, since he was going too fast and ignored me when I asked if he really wanted to go that way.  That way took a long time because the road sloped sideways, and it’s hard to get up and get some momentum when you have to go into the trees to do it. At any rate, I got a good ab workout leapfrogging up to the top side of the road and slipping slowly to the bottom side, just to repeat it all again.

When we got to the bottom, after a very strenuous time for both of us, is when I got to break the news about taking another ride on the chairlift. See, the way we went took us to the back side and we were stuck FAR away from the lodge, and the only way back is to take another run. 

On that one I finally was able to turn a little, which is amazing considering that the other two times I tried to snowboard I was way to scared of catching my back edge and landing on my head. 

I still landed on my bum once or twice or 37.682 times, but didn’t make it so far as my head. 

Needless to say we were done with snowboarding after that, but I did hear a whisper saying that we can go skiing again next time.  

Yay!