Virginia is for lovers

We’re heading to Richmond, VA tomorrow evening. We’ll be there for the weekend to attend my grandmother’s memorial service. I get bereavement pay! Woohoo! We’re staying in a hotel with free Internet access, so maybe we’ll post some stuff from there.

We’re heading to the grocery store this evening. Berck needs a toothbrush and toothpaste and shampoo and deoderant, so I’m making him go with me so he can pick out exactly what he wants. I’m waiting for him to find his black pants so he can start a load of laundry before we leave. I think he’s now looking for his brown pants. This could take a while.

I have to work until 5:30 tomorrow evening, and our flight is at 7:05. Berck is going to take me to work in the morning, then pick me up straight from work, and we’ll go to the airport. The airport is right next to the warehouse, so that should work nicely.

Well, the hunt for the black pants is not going well. And in such a small apartment…

Ah… Berck just reappeared from the bedroom. “Hanging pants on a non-pants hanger is a bad idea, because you’ll never find them again.”

I guess that’s better than, “Jonah, what did you do with my pants????!!!!”

Oh, where, oh, where has he gone?

It’s 8 p.m., and I have no idea where my husband is.

He can’t have gone far. I came home to find him and his bike missing. This isn’t unusual… they both disappear quite often to go flying. (Well, Berck goes flying. The bike stays on the ground.)

But it’s raining today. Berck can’t fly in the rain yet.

We only have one phone between us, and Berck supposedly has it. I got online and asked Nathan to call Berck’s phone. Berck didn’t answer, so Nathan left a voice mail.

I’m guessing Berck and his instructor are doing things that involve being on the ground. Maybe they flew anyway, because it doesn’t rain over all of Oklahoma at once. The weather tends to change rather quickly around here. It couldn’t have been raining when Berck left for him to be willing to ride his bike.

So I’ve been spending the evening looking for jobs. I got a rejection e-mail yesterday about the history professor position. That was nice of them to let me know, especially since Berck was going to make me call them the next day. There are two promising jobs in the paper today that I’m going to apply for. One is another history professorship at a community college. It asks for three professional letters of reference, so I’ve got to send out some e-mails begging for some. The other is for a curriculum developer. “Instructional designers, writers, and secondary teachers encouraged to apply.” That looks like fun, but I have to send in a writing sample. I’m thinking I may have to create one.

I spend my day in the warehouse sweating and thinking of things to write about. I’ve got a whole list of topics in my head. But by the time I come home, I’m too pooped to do much of anything except eat the (usually) delicious meal Berck has prepared for me. And then I spend whatever remaining energy I have studying the want-ads for employment. Fortunately, the local paper has all their classifieds online, searchable. It makes things easier.

So I’m sorry if my post is simply informative and not amusing. Maybe the next one will be more of the latter.

Now it’s 8:30. Where the heck is my husband?

Day to Day Sleeplessness

I have an unfortunate tendency to stay up quite late. “Around here.. we stay up very, very late…” (Counting Crows) I get involved with something, don’t notice that I’m getting tired, and soon it’s 4am. And then I sleep until it’s afternoon. And then I stay up even later, and so on. Left to my own devices, I tend to go to bed when the sun comes up and get up late afternoon. Unfortunately, the rest of the world seems to be very morning-centric.

Lately I’ve been flying in the afternoon. But Jonah works. And I when I can’t sleep, I toss and turn. And Jonah doesn’t like that. So then I get up and have to amuse myself until I think I might be able to sleep. I can’t do things like study, because I’m too sleepy. I’m probably too sleepy to write as well, but I’m probably also too sleepy to realize it.

I had my alarm set for 10am this morning. After not getting to sleep until very early in the morning, I wasn’t very happy about it going off. I figured the weather would probably be bad (the OKC TAF looked pretty bad when I went to bed), but I needed to confirm this before going back to bed. Because if it was good enough, I’d have to fly. Text weather isn’t that hard when I’m fully awake, but when I’m asleep, it’s difficult. I finally decided that even if there wasn’t much convective activity (and it didn’t look like there was), it was too cloudy. It was predicted to get to 800ft broken over OKC by 2pm. I was supposed to fly at noon. I decided that cross-country flying was probably, indeed, out of the picture. I set my alarm for 11am, checked the weather again. Less thunderstorms, more clouds. I called D., but he didn’t answer so I left a message.

My telephone rang at 12:30. A 251 number I didn’t recognize. I decided the possibility it was for me was slim to none. Being the anti-telephone sort of person I am, I sent the call to voicemail, then dialed my voicemail. It was someone calling about our overpriced health insurance that I was supposed to have had 3 months ago but which would now be effective on June 1. It’s always nice to think that you have health insurance, but then find out that you haven’t really had insurance for the last 6 months, you just thought you did. I suppose that if I never found out I didn’t have it, I didn’t need it, and I saved money…

There was also a message from D.. It seems that my phone didn’t ring when he called, only a couple minutes earlier than the insurance people. The message said, “Hey Berck, it’s Mike, I dunno if I missed you or what, I got back from my flight a little late… It’s 12:30, call me.” I called him back. He apparently hadn’t gotten my message, but he did agree that it might well be too cloudy for cross-country flying. He called back later to tell me that he was utterly unable to schedule me for Wednesday, but that I was in the schedule for 4pm on Thursday. This really bites. Flying 1.5 hours every 2-3 days is ridiculous. If I don’t fly more often than this, I might as well try to get a job.

So cleaned the kitchen. Joanna cleans the kitchen most nights, but she hadn’t been feeling well, so it was rather messy. And it needed a real cleaning. I cleaned off the counters, scrubbed the stains out, scrubbed the stove, cleaned the already clean pots which had some sort of scum in them, scrubbed the sink, found a tortilla that was now a petrified tortilla… After I got tired of that, I read cookbooks for awhile trying to decide what to make for dinner.

I’ve been wanting to make Gnocchi for some time now. I haven’t had it since I left Italy, and it was one of my favourite pasta dishes. I had, I thought, acquired everything I needed, but a careful examination revealed that I really needed a food mill. Not to mention that I needed one anyway to make tomato sauce. So I made “Spaghetti”. With all the real Italian cooking I’ve been doing lately… it was something of a dissapointment. Not bad, just disappointing. Joanna liked it, and that’s what’s important. Really.

I also found health insurance that’s costs 25% less, has a half the deductible, and no coinsurance (as opposed to the current policy which is 80/20). That’s good. Only now I have to go through all the headaches of applying for new insurance, canceling the old one and so on.

There was the hope that Joanna would get a job with benefits, but I’m starting to wonder. In spite of the literally hundreds of jobs she’s applied for, she’s gotten a sum total of zero phone calls and one rejection letter. This isn’t promising. I don’t really understand it– and it’s making me wonder just what good a college degree is after all. In fact, her current employer was worried about hiring her to work in a warehouse because she had a college degree. She’s started leaving her masters degree OFF of her resume for the secretary-type jobs she’s applied for.

There’s a position open at a local community college for a history professor that she’s well qualified for. But we’re not going to get excited.

Solo II

Jonah’s been feeling bad all day, and has spent most of the day in bed with a headache. My phone battery died and I didn’t notice until about 6pm. When I replaced it, there was a message from my instructor, which he’d left at 4:30, saying “There’s no wind! Call me!” I called him even though it was now much later, and he told me to meet him at the airport so we could practice my landings.

The wind had picked up to about 15knots, and it was still ridiculously hot even though it was evening. After doing the engine run up, I called ground and asked for a closed pattern departure. She told me to taxi to Runway 17. Runway 17 requires over a mile of taxiing. Which isn’t the end of the world, but is really sort of a waste of time. Especially when I’m 50 feet from runway 21. Winds were 180 at 1t 13. I asked for Runway 21 instead, and the she agreed, provided I was willing to do my pattern work on 17. Crosswind takeoffs don’t bother me too much, even though it’s not obvious how much wind correction to use. At least not to me, yet. Supposedly, if the plane is shuddering down the runway trying to stay straight it’s not enough, and it’s too much if the plane is listing into the wind. As soon as I get the wheels off the ground though, the planes rolls around, yaws into the wind and establishes a comfortable crab angle all on it’s own. Then I feel at home again, and try to climb smoothly while tracking the runway outbound.

My landings were better today. My biggest problem with crosswind landings seems to be that I’ve got a hard time judging whether or not the plane is pointed straight down the runway. I’ve discovered that if I force myself to look out and down the length of the runway, toward the end, it’s much easier for me to judge if I’m going to land straight or not. Part of the reason crosswind landings are so difficult is because instead of coordinated turns, opposite rudder and aileron are necessary. The plane doesn’t like this, and complains. This is necessary to make the plane fly straight with regard the runway, but sideways wirth regard to the relative wind. What generally happens is that I land sideways, which is bad, and could be very bad if I were to land very sideways. I’m getting better.

I concentrated on trying to make coordinated turns in the pattern. I’m starting to be able to feel it! Almost not so much feel it as see it. This is good. Rudder. It’s all about rudder. Sure, the plane will turn without it, but it’s all so much better if I can stay coordinated. It’s easier in some of these planes than others. The one I tend to fly more often than not never really needs left rudder. It just needs greater or lesser amounts of right rudder. I’m doing the best I can to teach myself to do it without looking at the ball. Do what I think is right, then glance at it to see if I am, indeed coordinated. I’m getting better, I just need more time.

After about 5 touch and go’s, Mike had me ask for a full stop on runway 21 for several reasons. A full stop so he could get out and I could fly solo again. Runway 21 so that I could try a landing with significant amounts of crosswind, and so I wouldn’t have to taxi the aforementioned mile to let him out. He told me to do five touch and go’s, to use runway 17, keep my approaches steep, don’t drag it in, and various other bits of advice.

I wasn’t at all nervous this time. I called tower, who told me to Taxi to runway 17. I did, held short, went through my checklist, and called for takeoff. I was the only person in the pattern, and in fact, the only plane on the radio call during my five landings. That was nice. I found that I’m a lot more relaxed without an instructor, since I know I’m not going to get pounced on for anything. I looked around a bit. Tried to enjoy flying in between doing all the things I had to do. My first landing was pretty good. My second one was pretty bad. I probably should have just gone around after getting high and slow, but I recovered just fine, and didn’t think about going around until I already had it all under control. The next 2 landings were okay. I ballooned up a bit on the the second to last landing, but the actual touch down was completely straight and smooth, even if I was using the left half of the runway. Hey, it’s 100 ft wide. I’m in a very small plane. My last landing was great. The stall horn just before both mains squeaked in at the same time, the nose wheel touching shortly thereafter.

After I parked, I turned off the avionics, pulled the throttle to idle and the mixture all the way out. The plane sputtered. And sputtered. And sputtered, but wouldn’t die. I didn’t want it to keep running lean, since I know that’s pretty bad for an engine, but I wasn’t sure what to do. I advanced the throttle and it sputtered faster. I pulled it back out, it sputtered more slowly. I pushed the mixture control back in, then back out. It still wouldn’t die. So I turned the mags off. I told D. what happened, and he told me I should have turned the fuel off, not the mags. Right. Of course. Ooops. I probably should have been able to figure that out, but no one had ever mentioned what I should do if pulling the mixture doesn’t kill the engine. And the fact that I’ve got a fuel selector valve never entered my head– probably because I never touch it. I look down to make sure it’s on “Both” a lot. That’s about it. There’s not much use for it in normal flight.

Oh well. Now I’ve got an hour of PIC time now. Yay.

Joanna seems to be doing better, but I doubt she’ll sleep tonight after spending the day in bed.

We rented Kill Bill yesterday, and watched it on her computer. It’s not a bad way to watch movies. A 19″ monitor is a little small, but we can sit up close, and it’s much higher resolution than a TV.

Berck

Izzle! Izzle pfaff!

In the midst of my recent poo-pooing of blogs in general, I’ve stumbled across what might be one of the best of the worst kind. It’s not what I consider a “real blog”, something that exists to link to other interesting things on the web, (A good example might be Slashdot.) but rather more of what “blog” has come to mean now– A journal on the web.

And now, even though this isn’t a blog and I’m not a blogger, I’ll do what bloggers do: link to other bloggers. But first, a word of warning. If you happen to either be Sarah Brenner or are easily offended, then click at your own risk. Izzle! Izzle pfaff!

Skot usually just writes about his day or week, but does it in such a way that makes me realize how blogging can actually be entertaining if done quite well. If you want to see what I mean, check out some of his better posts:

He doesn’t know much about cars.

An example of why he hates his condo-neighbors.

This is a slew of posts about his inability to fix his computer. Mostly just the first one is great.

Here’s a particularily surprising account of a day spent christmas shopping.

What happens when Skot cooks