Monthly Archives: April 2007

Scratch Pad, April 16

More stream of consciousness joy:

10:45 AM:

I am going to reward myself with the two-volume shorter Oxford dictionary after this contract, to help take the bad taste of poorly constructed reference books out of my mouth.

11:12:

I am convinced that this dictionary was written by people who thought they knew the definitions and didn’t actually look them up, because the ones that aren’t dead-on are kind of but not really right. Or they’re defined as the general populace understands them, which is not the textbook definition. I am appalled that this thing got published.

11:17:

I am also tired of correcting figurative use when the literal definition should be there first.

11:28:

No, I’ve got it: it reads as if it was assembled by schoolchildren who inferred the meaning of a word by its use in a piece of text. Therefore, someone reading the phrase “sunnier climes” might infer that “climes” means different or variable weather, as this dictionary says. Except it actually means climate.

11:33:

Does one “believe in a religion”? Doesn’t one believe in the doctrines, and follow the religion?

12:47 PM:

Looking up “pacemaker” to see if the definition requires finessing, I discover that “An external pacemaker was designed and built by the Canadian electrical engineer John Hopps in 1950 based upon observations by cardio-thoracic surgeon Wilfred Bigelow at Toronto General Hospital. A substantial external device using vacuum tube technology to provide transcutaneous pacing, it was somewhat crude and painful to the patient in use and, being powered from an AC wall socket, carried a potential hazard of electrocution of the patient by inducing ventricular fibrillation.” I’ll bet. (Thanks, Wiki.)

13:17:

Continuing the thought of 11:28 and 11:17, above — “Tether”: “having no strength or patience left”. Obviously inferred from “at the end of one’s tether”. Argh!

13:41:

From HRH, on the subject of me being too shy and lame to ask someone I don’t know to escort me in and out of the office while my keycard is non-functional: “You’re not lame, remember you’re a hot lady in an office of guys. Ask and they will comply, Ph34r t3h cut3, resistance is futile and all that.” Me: “Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

15:05:

Mellanmouse takes good, good care of me. I have hot chocolate and a reactivated keycard. I am no longer a prisoner. Now I can listen to Evanescence instead of the soothing Loreena McKennitt I was relying upon to keep me balanced earlier. I love her with much love.

15:24:

Looking up “exponent”, I found this example: “Jaqueline du Pré was a leading exponent of cello-playing”. I like it when my world and the world of this imaginary dictionary intersect.

15:28:

The serial comma is your friend. Do not fear the serial comma!

15:53:

Every once in a while we hear howlers from some part of the room as the team members test code to see if it functions. Some of the definitions that are pulled up are insanely incorrect. Some of them I’ve found so far; others are yet to come.

14:22:

I think what frustates me most is how *close* some of these definitions are, and yet how they still miss the mark. For example, to admonish is kind of like “to advise someone to do something”, but it lacks the implication of warning. If someone learned this word in the context for which I’m refining these definitions, they’d use it incorrectly. And I refuse to let that happen.

16:24:

I AM FINDING WORDS THAT DO NOT EXIST!

New word(s) today: pelmet.

Also? Yay me for remembering my grandmother’s birthday.

Friday

Well, the second week of work has drawn to a close. I’m not as exhausted as I was last Friday, but then, I’ve learned how to pace myself a bit better.

Today’s new luncheon location: Soy, where I had delicious plate of shrimp in a pepper/salt tempura. Excellent. Now we get to revisit these choice places, because my contract has been officially extended for an entire month.

Yes, you may cheer. We all did.

Today I began keeping a scratch pad of running commentary during the day to entertain myself and clear my brain of some of what was piling up there while I worked. For posterity (noun: “people in the future”; or really, in this case, just myself in the future), then, here are those notes:

10:30 AM:

I am currently editing the highest level of the dictionary while waiting for a spreadsheet merge. Some of the definitions are too long and won’t fit in the display field properly, so these are the ones I’m fixing now. It’s like a puzzle or challenge: how can I rewrite the definition, keeping it as clear and as unchanged as possible, and still get it under the specified length? Sometimes I can do it right away, other times it takes two or more attempts. When I do succeed, there’s a little “Yes!” that escapes me, and sometimes a small sedate victorious punch of the air above my keyboard. (“Gerrymandering” just took me six goes, the longest yet. But I conquered it in the end.)

11:16 AM:

I talk to myself a lot now. I read definitions out loud. The guys around me are politely ignoring me, or maybe they’re just too involved in whatever they’re working on to notice me mumbling under my breath. Everyone else does it, after all, and some not so quietly.

11:24 AM:

Hojicha green tea is a lousy substitute for the chocolate I’m craving.

3:00 PM:

Part of my problem about working with these definitions is that abbreviations or variants have come to popularly mean something unrelated to the original. I want to include the origin or related info, and can’t, so people will never know that “bedlam” (“a noisy lack of order”) has come to mean this because it originally referred to the chaotic noise made by the residents of Bedlam, a mental institution in London, which in its turn is an abbreviation of Bethlem Hospital, which is in its own turn a mangling of the original St Mary of Bethlehem.

3:36 PM:

… Or “eureka”, which now is used as an exclamation of success, but which actually means “I have discovered it” in Greek. Not the same thing at all.

3:43 PM:

Proofreading “gerbil” reminds me of the little brown mouse Blade and I saw making a mad dash across the lobby of the metro station the other morning. It looked like a brave mousy dare — although if so, it lost points for trying to cut a corner too closely and scurrying into the shiny turnstile column, but regained them by bouncing, shaking itself off, and then carrying on.

Today’s new words: invidious, reticulation.

Cue the Carols

To quote t!: “I’m… dreaming… of a white… Victoria Day Weekend…”

This post-Easter snowstorm made my commute home absolute misery, starting with the hour and ten minutes I stood outside waiting for a lift that only arrived (of course) after I resorted to public transit. While I was cold and wet and miserable, the worst thing was not knowing where HRH and Liam were and if they were okay. Both parties got home within five minutes of one another, and Liam was surprisingly not insane from being cooped up for two and a half hours in the car. He even ate some dinner before bed. HRH was mildly spare, however, and I was completely unhinged of course, imagining horrible things. This weekend, I am buying HRH a cellular phone.

Work proceeds apace. True to Meallanmouse‘s prediction today, I was asked how much longer I thought the project would take me should my contract be extended. As I’ve already been separately spoken to by the two heads who hired me about the near certainty of said extension, we shall see what happens tomorrow. Apparently it would be all right if I worked at home two days a week, which makes life much easier because HRH is working out on the West Island Mondays and Tuesdays, and needs to be on-site by the time Liam’s caregiver opens shop, as well as requiring the car to get there (otherwise it’s something like a two-hour commute). This way I can drop HRH off, then Liam, come home and work, then pick them up. If I had to go in to work on-site I’d lose an hour and a half of work time, assuming I took the car. Working at home on those two days is simply more efficient.

I learn at least one new word a day on this project. And it turns out I have been misusing “pursuant” all these years.

On today’s lunch adventure, Mellanmouse introduced me to the best fries I’ve had since the Frite Pit changed ownership over twenty years ago. Yesterday, it was an awesome Greek pita in the company of HRH and Fearsclave. Who knows what tomorrow will be?

I read A Long Shadow earlier this week, and am now over halfway through Princesses: The Six Daughters of George III (astute and obsessive readers may remember this as one of the topics that popped into my brain last fall and began scratching at the windows, whining for attention, pining to be a YA historical).

There is more; I keep a scratch pad with ideas that occur to me as the day goes along, but I’m really tired and still cold from the damp, no matter how many socks and sweaters I put on. To bed.

Twenty-Two Months Old!

Among the new words this month are shadow, flying, dancing, bump, egg, bacon, animals, bike, tools, tunnel, the end, fire, storm, lightning, tools, bike, knock-knock, crane, draw. HRH got him to call Thomas ‘Tom’ instead of ‘Ati’ the other day. It hasn’t stuck yet, though. ‘Noddles’ have now properly become ‘noodles’. Numbers are really sinking in as a concept, although sequence hasn’t. When we ask him to count the wheels on a toy, he touches each of them in turn saying, “Wheel, wheel, wheel, wheel.” If we begin counting with “One”, he’ll often say “Two”, but then the next number is usually nine. Yesterday after I had put him to bed I heard him counting: “Two, two, two, two, two…”.

He’s really passionate about drawing (which, like his love for books, comes as no surprise, I’m sure). He has a thick little copybook in which he draws with his markers, and I love that we’ll be able to keep this book and look back at it. It has a photo of Sesame Street characters on the front, so when he wants to draw he runs to the shelf and says, “Ernie, Ernie, Ernie.” These days he’s very excited about trees: he draws them on his own, and asks HRH and I to draw tree outlines for him to colour in. Naming the colours is coming along too. Cool colours tend to default to ‘green’, though, and warm colours default to ‘yellow’, although just to keep things fresh he throws ‘purple’ and ‘blue’ and ‘brown’ in at random times. We tried to bring the crayons out again, but with his need to gnaw on things to ease the pressure of his molars it was still a no-go. That’s fine; the markers are great, so long as he doesn’t bite the thick tips off, and he likes taking breaks every ten minutes or so to wash his hands clean of the ink.

He can voluntarily point out and correctly name the letter B. Why that letter and not another, we do not know.

Last week on a sunny day Liam discovered shadows. He now chases his own shadow, and moves his arms and head so that he can see his shadow copy the motion. This is hilarious to him, and entertainment for us as well, I must admit.

The fact that we have multiple friends called Marc/Mark makes him very suspicious.

His current book obsession is the collection of the first three Mog the Forgetful Cat stories I have. He is also very fond of Moonbeam on a Cat’s Ear by Marie-Louise Gay. My copy is signed so I try to be careful with it, but in the end, it’s a children’s book, with all that implies. After reading a story a couple of times in a row he’ll often take my index finger and touch it to various items on the page, waiting for me to identify them. I love how he devours books so completely. He also likes to read a lovely little book called I Love You Sun, I Love You Moon: We say, “I love you…” and he fills in whatever the child on the page is looking at. “Sun! Moon! Wolf! Water! Bird! Tree!” He’s working on saying “I love you” instead of just “love”, too, but at the moment it’s more exciting to say the name of whatever is in the picture.

This month also saw the longest sentence he’s said so far: “No Dada, please down.” Remarkably coherent and cogent, particularly since it was said through a flood of tears and great distress at being buckled back into the carseat.

The snow vanished rather quickly (thank goodness), and we have rediscovered how good Liam is on his feet. Last fall we weren’t comfortable with letting him run around in the driveway or sidewalk, but now suddenly he’s a little boy walking along while holding our hands, or climbing the front stairs on his own, or pushing the stroller with us. HRH likes to take him out into the backyard and let him run around like a mad thing. (Thank goodness for the backyard.)

He gallops through the house chanting his name over and over, throwing “Me!” into the mix every now and again. When he looks in the mirror after a bath he says, “Me! Liam!” and sounds very satisfied about it. And he’s already developing an amusing method of deflection. “Liam, are you dong [insert questionable activity in which he’s not supposed to engage here, such as climbing on the couch or touching the earth in the plants]?” we’ll say. “No,” he’ll say casually, and turn to look at a cat.

His current favourite toys are the MegaBloks. He loves to make towers and “nunnels” for his cars and trains to drive through. He’s remarkably good at stacking them, and at choosing colours and sizes. On top of a structure the other day he built a stack of single unit blocks about five high, and put a two-unit block on the top. He looked at HRH and said, “Flag.” “Uh, yes,” said HRH, and freaked out quietly as Liam turned to do something else.

Peanut butter has been introduced to Liam’s diet. It’s very okay. Not I-won’t-eat-anything-else brilliant, but acceptable.

When he was fractious last week we sat him down to watch the beginning of the first Harry Potter film to take his mind off his teeth, and while the owls were interesting and the Hogwarts Express was thrilling, they were nowhere near as exciting as Madam Hooch’s class. “Broom!” he said, very excited. “Yes,” we said, “brooms.” And he ran off to get his little broom, brought it back into the living room, and went right up to the television and held it up across the screen. “Broom! Up!” he said, very pleased. And then his eyes nearly fell out of his head when those broomsticks flew. “Broom! Fly! Sky!” he said, racing back to me on the chesterfield, turning to lean his back against me and breathlessly take it all in. We caught him trying to walk with his broom between his legs later. The only show he watches with regularity now is Zoboomafoo, which he loves. (The TV is now turned off after Zoboo and before Thomas because of the new morning schedule, which is just fine with me as I have seen enough of the island of Sodor to last me a good long time.)

We took him out to see the Easter farm at the mall last weekend. He was very squirmy, partially because of all the people, partially because of his teeth, partially because he wants to walk everywhere now. He saw donkeys, and all sorts of fancy chickens, rabbits, rambunctious piglets, ducklings, and goats. In the goat pen there were two relatively newborn kids curled up together in the shelter of a set of steps, and I pointed them out to Liam, telling him that they were babies and they were sleeping. “Goats! Night-night goats!” he said while waving, then insisted that we back away and leave the animals so that they could sleep in peace. I’m sure the goats appreciated the thought, as the act itself was lost in the sea of people and associated people-noises.

Originally, we were supposed to travel to Oakville for the holiday weekend, but with my full-time two-week contract and only one day off for the holiday, it wasn’t going to happen: a day of travel, one day there, and another day of travel home is a recipe for family-wide disaster. So that trip has been postponed to later in the month, post-contract, and we spent Easter Sunday with the locals instead. Liam was thoroughly gifted there with clothes, little books, a stuffed turtle and a small Lightning McQueen toy that he hasn’t let go of except in sleep. And when he ran into his bedroom there, he found what he delightedly called “a bike!“, a plastic three-wheeled ride-on toy with a trailer attached. Once he’d figured out how to drive it by pushing it along with his feet and steering, he gave his toys rides for the rest of the day.

I miss him while I’m working on this contract. And yet, it gives me the opportunity to see him in a completely different light now that I’m away from him all day, and come home in time to share dinner with him and the evening ritual of bath, pyjamas, and snuggling with books before bedtime. It reinforces how much of a little boy he is, how well he uses language to communicate what he’s done all day, what a cheerful nature he has, and how much I love his personality.

Day Off

I’m glad it’s a holiday weekend and I have an extra day off. Conversely, this takes a day off what I’ll be invoicing the company for this contract. On Friday I tried to e-mail the file to myself from the work address to put some time into it today, but it hasn’t come through. I have a feeling the corp filters may have decided it was Not Allowed because another message without attachments I sent made it to my home inbox. Ah well; I tried.

Band was impressively awesome on Saturday. Easter dinner over at HRH’s parental home was lovely on Sunday. Sleeping in until seven this morning was blissful.

There is surprisingly little chocolate in the house. This ought to be remedied.

We went out this morning for groceries and other stuff, and I finally found a cap for Liam despite his stubborn refusal to try them on. This one appears to be acceptable; at least he keeps it on his head half the time right now. All four of Liam’s molars are making white bumps on his back gums, as HRH found out when he braved the Toddler Jaws of Doom to put Orajel on them yesterday. No wonder the poor child is cranky.

Scattershot

Thought I’d kicked the cold; then the really bad dry throat thing kicked in yesterday afternoon, triggering really bad coughing fits complete with tears streaming from the eyes. HRH had to import the humidifer from Liam’s room into our bedroom so that I could sleep last night. Also no fun were the sharp, incredibly painful foot cramps that attacked after I stepped onto the cold bathroom tiles on my way to bed. So, I’m still sick. Also, it is winter again, and I would like these two things to be over and done with, thank you.

Still enjoying work in an intellectual/practical challenge sort of way. More with the tearing of the hair and exasperated gestures and sighs, though, as I encounter words that I expect to be nouns and that are defined as verbs, such as ‘paint’. That’s all right; I fit right in with the gesticulation and random oaths uttered by programmers and coders around me.

Thanks to public transport this week, I have read Conspiracy by Grace, Lady Cavendish; Melusine by Sarah Monette; and The Rest Falls Away by Colleen Gleason in their entirety.

t! has been sharing excellent music with me lately. I’m currently enjoying some Lee Rocker and Brian Setzer Orchestra live recordings. Rockabilly and swing revival are seeing me through.

All right; time to pack the Thermos of tea and finish getting ready to go.