Another day at work

Velocys is one our favorite clients. There’s an article out about what they’re doing in case you’re interested in what I’ve been doing at work. Velocys is working on

…a portable system that converts coal, natural gas, and biomass into diesel and jet fuel. The military could use the system to convert waste created at military bases–food scraps, paper, wood–into a fuel for military jets and vehicles.

Whether or not this works, it’s great for my bread and butter in the meantime.

The United States has more coal than the rest of the world put together. And while planting corn for ethanol is a ridiculous waste of farmland, making biofuels from waste materials is a great idea, in my opinion.

When someone mentions how we’ve got to do something about our dependency on foreign oil, I love being able to say, “I am!”

Memphis

We only had to pay for two days of parking at the Denver airport. Our car was there less than 48 hours.

We got to the gate for our flight out of Denver with 13 minutes to spare. Berck decided to take I-225 to the airport instead of taking the nice empty but very expensive toll road. Unfortunately, it was rush hour. I-25 backed up before we even got to 225, which was almost stopped. Fortunately, I had brought the little laptop, even though Berck complains every time I do. “We already have a laptop with us!” “YOU have a laptop,” I answer. He rarely lets me use the Mac laptop when his desktop isn’t around. I booted “my” laptop up, plugged up the GPS receiver, and started up Street Atlas. Soon we were making our way unhindered down a major eastbound avenue that took us to the toll road. We had to pay $2.75 for the amount of road remaining to the airport.

Our gate was B94, all the way at the end of the terminal. Even with all the moving sidewalks and walking very rapidly, it still took us a quarter of an hour to get there once we passed through security, which fortunately didn’t take any time at all.

Our plane was a CRJ-200, the plane Berck is learning to fly, operated by SkyWest. Berck had just received his crew badge that afternoon, so when we went outside to board the plane, he asked me to keep the rampers from loading his bag while he went and asked the captain if he could ride in the jump seat. It was bitterly cold, so I had to pull out my stocking cap of my bag to keep my ears from freezing while I waited. Berck ran back down the stairs from the plane reporting that the crew was very nice but they weren’t allowed to let anyone sit in the cockpit when there was room “in the back.” So Berck left his headset in his bag for the rampers to load, and we made ourselves comfortable in the half empty plane.

Our visit in Memphis was fairly relaxed. We got in kind of late, but we sat around talking to Berck’s dad for a long time. The next day he made us breakfast, then I took Berck’s grandmother to the grocery store to get some medicine for her and some groceries for me to make quiches. The next morning, Berck’s dad told us when we arrived, was a birthday brunch for Aunt Robin. I offered to make quiche, since I’ve found the best recipe in the world. I rolled out the crust the most easily I ever have and made two beautiful crusts. They weren’t quite done when my timer went off, so I left them in the oven, but by the time I checked on them again, they were past golden and mostly brown. Berck calls that “burnt,” so I figured I’d better start over. I was ready to put the crusts in the aluminum pans I’d bought at the store, so I dumped out the browned crusts onto a plate. Berck came by to sample them and sputtered something about salt. I then realized that I’d put 8 times the amount of salt in I was supposed to; my memory had failed me as I made a recipe I’d made a hundred times before. So I threw the dough I had rolled out into the garbage and started over a third time. This time the crust would not cooperate at all. I guess all that salt makes it easy to roll. I did discover, however, that parchment paper works even better than wax paper for making pie crust.

In the meantime, following the instructions for frying an onion, I hadn’t used a pan that had a lid that would make a seal, and it had started burning on the edges. Berck and his dad stopped sampling the too salty pie crust and ate my defective onion as I started over with a proper pan and fitted lid. Finally, my quiches were assembled and stowed in the fridge to pop in the oven first thing in the morning.

For supper, Berck and his dad ran to the store to buy some steaks, then his dad fried us some delicious steak fries and asparagus and mushrooms. He opened a bottle of wine as old as I am, a 1974 Rothschild, and poured us all a glass. It was so old that the cork disintegrated and the wine had to be decanted through a cheesecloth. We all tasted it. It hadn’t gone bad, but it wasn’t wonderful. Apparently, it had been delicious back when it was bottled, and Berck’s dad has had some of the bottles since then and said they were wonderful. This bottle tasted very mellow and old, but it didn’t really taste like much.

We sat around the table for hours as Berck and I quizzed his dad and grandmother on the family heritage.

In the morning we packed up and went over to Berck’s cousin Michael’s house for the brunch. Everyone raved about my quiches, even John, Robin’s long-time beau who is a cook in a very nice restaurant, though Robin pointed out that he’s a cook, not a critic. We got to see all sorts of people, Berck’s cousin Michael and his wife and one year old son, his other cousin Annie and her husband, Berck’s aunt Cindy and, of course, Robin. But we had to leave without staying too long to get to the Memphis airport in time for our flight home.

Now we’re back again. Next weekend, San Jose.

Dishwasher Saga

Two weekends before Christmas, I went into the kitchen one evening and found a puddle of water in the middle of the floor. I thought I’d accidentally closed a spoon handle in the dishwasher door or something, so I mopped it up. Later I came back in the kitchen, and the puddle had reappeared. Uh oh. I informed Berck, and we crawled around on the floor, trying to figure out where the water was coming from. It seemed to be coming from under the sink, but there were no leaks in the sink cabinet. I called our landlord in case there was water leaking somewhere in the wall, dripping down on our downstairs neighbor. I’m sure I call from one of his tenants was exactly what he was looking forward to on a Saturday night. He said he’d call his plumber.

Berck unscrewed the front of the dishwasher, and we found a nice big puddle of water beneath it. We turned on the dishwasher to make sure that’s where the water was coming from. Sure enough, water was spraying every which direction, and sparks were flying from the wires. We quickly switched it off again and called the landlord back with our diagnosis.

He told us how much he wanted to spend on a new dishwasher and invited us to pick one out at Home Depot. $300 will get you the bottom of the line dishwasher for three brands, but we just picked out the one that they actually had on the floor, an Amana that promised a super quiet system. We were expecting company for Christmas, so Berck called our landlord and asked if we could just order the dishwasher and pay for it ourselves and take the cost out of the rent so we’d have it installed by Christmas. He agreed, and Home Depot said they’d deliver it on Saturday after eleven a.m.

On Friday my brother Ben and his new wife Amanda drove into Colorado Springs, having left Mobile the morning before. Since they were exhausted, we took them to a Festivus party in Denver. It started snowing hard Friday afternoon, and traffic crawled up I-25 to Denver at about 30 mph. Fortunately, Berck had had the presence of mind to dump a bunch of antifreeze windshield wiper fluid in my brother’s car. Unfortunately, it was mostly full already, so he didn’t get enough of it in the lines, and the stuff they sell in Mobile, where it never freezes, froze in the lines solid.

We spent the night at a friend’s house in Denver, then got up and all went out to breakfast in the morning. We were going to be running a little late if the dishwasher installers got to our house right at eleven. But we packed back into my brother’s car and headed south on I-25. The sun was out and melting all of the snow that had piled on the roads the night before. Traffic was moving along at a much quicker pace than the night before… and kicking up slush and deicer and mud. We’d only gone a couple of exits before the windshield was nearly opaque. Berck pulled off at the next exit, which was unfortunately on to another highway, so he had to feel his way along until he got to an exit on it. Ben had a gallon of washer fluid in the car, so he doused the windshield, and we were good to go until the windshield got covered again.

We were just going from exit to exit, cleaning off the windshield each time and making very slow progress. We even tried pouring fluid through the sunroof when we slowed down enough, but if we were going to fast, it sprayed back into the car. Finally, Berck pulled off at a gas station in Castle Rock, and he and Ben set about trying to figure out how to get the fluid squirters working again. Ben made trip after trip to the men’s room with a cup bring back hot water to melt the lines. While the sun was shining, it was still very cold out. By now it was way past eleven, and I was hoping our dishwasher hadn’t already come and went.

Berck was ready to give up, but Ben made one more trip to the bathroom for hot water, and the squirter on the driver’s side began working! We were able to get home, finally. As we entered Colorado Springs, I got a call that the delivery guys were on their way. We got there with plenty of time to spare.

Berck watched the guys install the the machine, and I’m not really sure all what happened, but they were running around trying to turn off water at the hot water heater and outside. I think they twisted off a valve. But they got it fixed. When they were finally done, they handed me the paperwork and had us sign a receipt saying it was delivered. Their truck said GE, and we’d ordered the dishwasher from Home Depot, so Berck asked them who they worked for. “A moving company.”

They started up the dishwasher and told us to let it go through a whole cycle, then left. I sat down and read through the instruction manual and installation instructions.

The directions said not to rinse food off dishes, just scrape off any large food particles. That doesn’t work so well, so I continue to rinse. I also have to catch it right after the cycle ends to wash off the last of the dough encrusted wooden spoons Berck has been using constantly since he got a bread book for his birthday.

Fortunately, the dishwasher easily accommodates large dishes and pans and tall glasses. And it does do a much better job than the last dishwasher, which was very old. But instead of a dial which will tell you exactly where it is in the cycle, it just has buttons. You have no idea if it’s on its final rinse or not when you want to chuck something in there. And on “Heavy Wash” it takes 130 minutes to complete.

After I read the instructions, I went in the kitchen to look at my new appliance. It was running, and it was really loud. The installation instructions showed how to install the insulation around it to make it quiet and to put two strips on either side to connect it to the cabinet. There were no strips. I could look right in between the side and the cabinet and see there was no insulation either.

So I called up Home Depot. The guy in Appliances I talked to said I needed to call back on Monday and talk to Tom the Expiditor. “Can’t I just leave a message with you?” I asked. “No, I’m not even going to be here on Monday.” You think a huge national company like Home Depot could have some sort of system to LEAVE A MESSAGE. I was irritated.

But on Monday I called back. It was about one in the afternoon. The guy in appliances said Tom had gone for the day. “But call back on Wednesday, at 7 in the morning.” Argh!

So I called back AGAIN, early this time. A woman answered this time and said that Tom was on the other line, but could she take a message? For crying out loud! So only some employees at Home Depot can WRITE?

Tom called me back in just a couple of minutes. I explained about the missing insulation and strips. He was very nice and accommodating. He said he would take care of it.

I got a call later saying someone would be out Monday to fix it (10 days after we got it). On Monday a repairman came up the stairs carrying a toolbox. He looked at the dishwasher and said, “Yup, you need insulation and side strips.” He ordered them and said they should arrive the following Monday.

They didn’t come Monday. They didn’t come Tuesday either, so I called the number he gave me to call when they arrived. The lady who answered my call said in a heavily accented voice, “Thank you for calling Sears.” I explained the situation to her, but she said that their system was down for maintenance, and I could call again in the morning.

I called again the next evening, and a guy answered the line saying, “Thank you for calling ANE.” He said that the system said that my parts were to be delivered tomorrow (Thursday) and he would go ahead and schedule an installation on Friday. The parts did indeed arrive on Thursday, and they were installed on Friday, 3 weeks and 3 days after we ordered the thing.

We’re in Memphis currently. Berck decided on Thursday night at 9:30 pm that we were going to fly to Memphis on a 6:40 pm flight the next day. That meant I had to do laundry and pack before I went to bed, because Berck was picking me up from work and driving straight to the airport on Friday.

So I still don’t know how loud my new dishwasher is.

Amusing Sibling Travel

It looks like all three Nachzen kids are trying to fly nonrev today. I hadn’t heard from Sydney, so I figured her flight from Memphis to JFK was going well, then my phone rang.

It was Kelsey, who was trying to fly from JFK to Orlando, and was concerned because Sydney called him. From Scranton, PA. It turns out the weather was really bad in JFK. He asked how bad it was, and I told him there was still a good chance of him flying, the weather was forecast to improve, his flight would probably just be late. He decided to check in, and so I called Sydney. Who told me that she was on a Mesa flight with a Charlotte-based crew, and that they were simply going to bus her to JFK. Then it hit me– if they were putting the passengers on a bus, the plane was not going to JFK. And since it was a Charlotte-based plane, I was sure it was probably the same one going out of JFK back to Charlotte… the one Kelsey was supposed to get on. So had things gone correctly, my siblings would have ridden in the same aircraft on the same day, but on different flights.

Sure enough, right about then, Kelsey called to say his flight had been canceled. He’s currently on his way over to La Guardia to see if he can catch a flight out of there to Charlotte. The weather at LGA is current 2.5 miles visbility, and 1500 ft overcast with thunderstorms, but should be good enough for flights to still operate. Unlike the weather at JFK which is 0 miles visibility and no ceiling ’cause the clouds go all the way to the ground.

In other news, FedEx just brought me my crew badge, and we’re going to try to visit my Dad in Memphis tonight. It’s a CRJ, so I’m gonna try to ride the jumpseat…