I’ve never been fond of report cards. When I was a kid, I hated bringing my report card home for my parents to sign. And it wasn’t that my grades were bad or anything, usually. I just always dreaded it.

I think it stems from my very first report card. The principle of the grade school (private, Catholic, nuns, etc.), was also the first grade teacher. Before handing out our very first report cards, Sister explained to all of the children in my class what report cards were and that we were to take them home to our parents for their signature. And, she added, if her signature weren’t on our report card, that meant that she needed to meet with our parents because we were poor students and not doing well in school and something needed to be done.

Then she passed out our report cards.

And mine was not signed.

I was so afraid to show it to my parents. I held my six-year-old self together pretty well until school ended and I got to Mama’s car. Can I see your report card? Mama asked. And then I lost it. Totally. I started sobbing inconsolably because I’d flunked. I was a poor student and not doing well in school and something needed to be done.

What’s that matter? Mama asked.

I’m a [sob] b-b-b-b-ad st-st-student. You and daddy have to m-m-m-eet with S-s-s-s-ister [sniff] ‘c-c-c-ause I’m not doing w-w-w-w-ell. [sob sniff sob]

This is a very good report card! Mama said. You got all A’s and B’s. You did fine!

B-b-b-but it’s [sob sob sob] NOT SIGNED! and Sister said that meant [sniff sob] it was BAD!

Telling my younger brother and the neighbor kids to stay in the car or else — we carpooled in the days before seatbelts, so there were a gaggle of children in our station wagon — Mama marched me into Sister’s office and demanded to know why my card wasn’t signed.

I must have just missed it when I was signing the stack. Sister said. Of course Judy is doing fine! I will sign her card right now.

Even though Mama explained to me several times that she knew I had not actually flunked because my grades were OK, I’m not sure I felt much better or ever really believed, deep down, that it had all been a mistake. And there was that lower mark for Deportment. I did so like to chat with my little first grade friends — usually when Sister thought we should be learning something.

Traumatized, I tell you gentle reader, and scarred for life.

So you will understand why I was not looking forward to taking a test this week. A test that I stupidly made a goal on which I will be evaluated at work. A test that, I learned after making it a goal, was both extremely hard and not very relevant to what I’m doing.

Oh. Great.

Now, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m a pretty good test taker, especially if the test is multiple choice. With those tests, there are usually a couple of choices that are obviously not correct, so it’s not all that hard to pick out the right answer. But I haven’t taken tests for a long time. So I studied really, really hard (that’s part of where I’ve been instead of here). Yesterday I arrived promptly at the test-taking site, where all of my worldly possessions were locked up because this was not an open book test and I was escorted to a room with cameras where I would be monitored for the entire time. And it was hard. It was probably one of the hardest tests I’ve ever taken. The multiple choice questions said pick two or pick three. And they all looked wrong. Or they all look right. Sometimes they even all looked the same. I marked a bunch of questions for review, and then went back and changed them. Which I think may, in retrospect, not have been the smartest thing to do.

Technology is such a wonderful thing. I got my grade right away.

I missed passing by three questions out of 86. [sob sniff] And then I had to confess to my boss that I did not do well in school.

Before taking the test, I had discussed my misgivings with my boss and even located a different test that’s given in a more relevant way and covers more relevant material. And it was mutually agreed that, should I not do that well, plan B would be put in motion. So this weekend I need to take another test. But it’s a test that, while it is difficult, I already know I can pass.

So this whole sordid affair will soon be over.

And I can get back to knitting and blogging. 😀

Friday night. For many people the work-week is over and it’s time for a bit of amusement — maybe a movie or dinner with a friend or a date. Or a bit of knitting in front of the TV. Me? I take my car apart.

OK. Not the whole car. Just a bit of it.

I drive a 2005 Prius. And I love my car. Love it. It’s my favorite car ever. I love the way that I can run practically the whole car from my cozy-covered steering wheel. There’s just one thing it doesn’t have: an iPod dock (those were added in the next model year). When I bought my car, I didn’t have an iPod so I didn’t really care. Then I got an iPod, and thus began the search for some way to listen to it in the car. I finally settled on an FM transmitter. It worked pretty well, but had disadvantages. I could only use the iPod controls to change songs, etc., which is probably not all that safe when going 70 mph down the freeway. And, if the station faded, so did the iPod. After spending 20 minutes sitting in a rest area trying to find a station that would work, I decided that maybe I should look for another method.

this is how it looked before

The problem, of course, is finding an after-market solution that works with the stereo, doesn’t mess up the gps navigation, and allows the steering wheel controls to change songs, etc. For some cars, there are tons of after-market products that do this. For the Prius, there are only a few. My choice arrived this week. So when Friday night arrived, I gathered up the necessary tools and set to work.

Estimated time to install: The guide said about 30 minutes, so I figured one hour would be sufficient. I’d read through the instructions and it didn’t look that tough.

Tools needed: Long Phillips screwdriver, regular screwdriver, mirror, iPod doohickey and all its cables and parts, iPod.

Step 1: Remove glove box and set aside. Mama always warned me about directions that start out like this. But really, it turned out to be pretty easy.

Step 2: Using fabric-covered screwdriver, gently pry top of vent cover away from dashboard to unclip, then remove vent cover. Again, not so bad. I was on a roll.

the bane of my existence

Step 3: Using long Phillips screwdriver, unscrew the bolt at the top of the scary-looking white box covered with scary-looking wires. (The blue arrow is pointing at the location of the bolt.) Be careful not to mess up any of those wires, or lose the bolt, or any other bad thing. Unscrew bolt. U.n.s.c.r.e.w bolt.

Step 4: Admit that the standard-length Phillips screwdriver I had was just not long enough to get the proper amount of leverage on a bolt that must have been tightened using force approaching that to be found at the center of the earth. Remember that the Phillips who gave his name to this style of screwdriver was actually a resident of Portland and ponder that little bit of synchronicity while searching through tools, finding only standard screwdrivers that are longer than the original Phillips. Curse.

Step 5: Search for tool kit containing socket wrench, not finding it. Vaguely remember that I gave said tool kit to #1 Son, and he took it when he moved out. Curse.

Step 6: Replace vent cover, pressing firmly to engage clips. Replace glove box.

Step 7: Drive to big-box home improvement and hardware store. Purchase smallest possible socket wrench set containing several sizes of sockets and extenders, just in case (on sale! and yes I will use it for other things). Return home.

Step 8: Remove glove box and set aside. Remove vent cover and set aside. Using 10mm socket wrench with 6″ extender, remove bolt at the top of the scary-looking white box with the scary-looking wires. Put the bolt safely in a cup holder. Slide the white box gently to the side, out of the way.

the object of my desire

Step 9: Find the empty port on the back of the stereo where the adapter for the iPod doohickey will be plugged in. It’s circled in the picture. And, yes, the mirror I’m holding is on the handle of a hairbrush. It’s the only one I had that was the right length and that I could get at the right angle. Note that it’s a tight squeeze to that port.

Step 10: While holding the end of the iPod doohickey plug between two fingers, squeeze right hand through vent opening and attempt to plug the wire into the port. Stretch a little further. Squeeze a little tighter. Twist and turn that plug to get it at the right angle. Reach!

Step 11: Realize that the sharp pain in the side of my thumb is probably not something I should ignore because the edge of the stereo enclosure has apparently cut my thumb and reaching further will cut it again. Withdraw right hand. Wrap kleenex around thumb. Curse.

Step 12: While holding the end of the plug, squeeze left hand through vent opening and reach for the cursed port. Feel the plug go in the port. Rejoice!

Step 13: Remove hand. Watch plug fall out. Curse.

Step 14: Repeat step 12, but this time ram that puppy home like there’s no tomorrow.

it works!

Step 15: Carefully move the scary-looking white box back into position, but don’t bolt it down yet.

Step 16: Plug the iPod doohickey cable into the other end of the adapter now attached to the stereo, and run the cable out the side of the vent cover, over where the glove box should be.

Step 17: Connect the iPod cable to the iPod doohickey and plug in the iPod.

Step 18: Cross fingers and toes.

Step 19: Turn the car’s auxiliary power on. The iPod will appear in the device list as MD Changer. Navigate to the iPod and test the functions. Some simple programming may be required.

Step 20: Follow the instructions for the simple programming, which turned out to be actually simple. Watch the iPod and it’s playlists show up on the nav screen. I swear that this song came up totally randomly, but it was pretty fitting I think. (For anyone who wonders, that’s Harry Nilsson.)

Step 21: Play with controls to make sure everything works. Rejoice.

put that puppy to bed

Step 22: Turn off car.

Step 23: Move scary-looking white box covered with scary-looking wires back into place.

Step 24: Using 10mm socket wrench with 6″ extender (I can be taught), replace bolt, being careful not to drop it or tighten it too tightly (not too much fear of that).

Step 25: Carefully replace vent cover, pressing firmly to engage clips but being careful not to squeeze or bend cable. Put the iPod doohickey inside the glove box and then carefully replace glove box, being careful not to bend or squeeze cables, etc.

Step 26: Fasten the iPod doohickey securely inside the glove box. Coil cables and store neatly. Close glove box. (I would show you an after picture, but it looks just like the before picture.)

Step 27: Cross fingers and toes. Turn on car’s auxiliary power and make sure everything still works. Breath a sigh of relief.

Step 28: Put tools away.

Step 29: Enter house, telling surprised cats I rock!

Step 30: Add ice to martini shaker. Apply vodka and vermouth. Shake. Pour. Drink.

Total elapsed time start to finish, including trip to big-box store but excluding 2nd martini: 4 hours.

Being able to run my iPod from the steering wheel while it’s safely tucked away in the glove box: priceless.

not my fave

I can’t believe what a response there was to my last post about the light bulbs. This appears to be a subject that strikes a chord in many people!

Shelly sent me information about this article in the New York Times. The reports experimented with different bulbs and types to see what most people preferred. Good old incandescent came out way on top — even against the warm white cfl’s.

After much soul searching a bit of thought, I’ve decided to stick with the standard bulbs for now. As well as disliking the light that the cfl throws off, there’s the issue of how to dispose of the darn thing because it contains mercury. I don’t want to be putting more mercury in the environment. That seems as harmful as using more electricity. Plus, it appears that all of the manufacturers are coming out with energy-saving incandescent bulbs that will meet the new government standards as well as being a much nicer light. And new technologies are coming. So I will leave my one cfl in the kitchen. But I doubt I’m ever going to like it.

On a totally different subject, here is as far as I’ve gotten on the clown-barfish socks — sorry, but I just can’t think of these as anything else now. This picture was as of this morning, so you are as up to date as possible.

In defense of the yarn, it was gorgeous in the skein. I couldn’t wait to knit with this stuff. And, indeed, it is really nice to knit with. But, gentle reader, look at the way that the red is striping with the yellow to make muddy orange, and the green is striping with the blue to make muddy teal. That blue is bright — almost electric! But you would never know it the way it combines with the other colors. 🙁

My current sock class was polled for their opinion. It was a pretty universal thumbs-down.

I am continuing to knit them, however, because one person who saw them exclaimed, Oh! What gorgeous colors! Those are so evocative for me! Since it turns out that the gauge is a little off for me, but appears to be just the size to fit the exclaimer, she is obviously fated to be the recipient.

I’m thinking short-row heels on these. Or maybe flap-and-gusset but knit with the opposite end so as not to mess up the striping.

Opinions?

a light in the darkness

Saturday night I flipped on the light switch in the kitchen, saw a flash, heard a pop, and realized that I was once again down to one working bulb out of seven.

I don’t mean to not replace the bulbs when the burn out. It’s just that the darn things all go at once. Two weeks ago, the first burned out. And there’s been a steady progression of burnout in my kitchen ever since. And I didn’t have any spare ones. And for some reason when I’d stop at the store to pick something up, my focus on that thing would take up both of my remaining brain cells and there was no place left to store the need to do something about the growing darkness. Until last night when I realized I was nearing a total eclipse of the kitchen, and I would be reduced to cooking by flashlight if I didn’t do something about it soon.

If you’ve been visiting here for very long, gentle reader, you will recognize this situation. Yes, I can be taught, but sometimes it takes many repetitions.

So today at the store I concentrated really hard and managed to remember light bulbs — and even remembered to buy some extra ones. Of course I forget TP. But that’s a different story.

When I got home, I replaced all of the burned out bulbs. The light has returned.

And I have a question for you. Have you tried the florescent bulbs? I think in some parts of the country, the incandescent bulbs are no longer being sold? We can still get them here in Oregon. But I bought one of the florescent bulbs just to see what I thought of it. And I’m not really diggin’ it. It’s bright enough and all. But here in the rainy, dark, northwest winter I really appreciate the daylight type bulbs I usually get. Florescent light is cold. brrrrr The bulb fits a little strangely in the can, too. It doesn’t go flush with the ceiling. I compared it to an incandescent bulb and it’s longer. It’s certainly bright enough, though. And it’s much better for the environment, uses much less energy, etc. The jury is still out for me.

What do you think?

No knitting. I haven’t had time to knit. I’ve barely had time to do anything by work. Another couple of weeks, and I think I’ll start to have a bit of spare time.

Don’t tell anyone that might want to find a way to use it up. 🙄