Frontline

Covering the White House is a tough beat—and that was the case before the Kleptocrat and his Gauleiters descended upon it. These days you’re constantly trying to decide whether you need to mainline coffee or Scotch, just to make your deadlines, given the constant stream of shite coming out of the West Wing.

Actor Tom Hanks gets it, so yesterday he sent the press corps a spiffy new espresso machine, causing the best news to ooze out of 1600 since 18 January.

I enjoyed the tweets that responded to the report. This photo, for example, drew horror at the Styrofoam cup, along with comments to the effect that the machine is off-limits to McClatchy reporters, who only deserve instant coffee.

There also was appreciation for the note that accompanied the gift—Hanks is a well-known collector of typewriters.

Although controversy raged over his use of the Oxford comma, a violation of AP style.

If you look closer, Hanks includes a cartoon from Pulitzer Prize-winning Stars and Stripes cartoonist Bill Mauldin, who—along with Ernie Pyle—gave Americans the closest look at the ordinary GI in the Second World War. The cartoon is one of many that enraged General George S. Patton, in much the same way (and for many of the same reasons) that the White House press corps enrages the Cheeto-in-Chief. The reference also pokes fun at how news reports don't always hit the mark.

This will be the third high-end coffee machine that Hanks has contributed to the upholders of the First Amendment in the White House over the years. For this reason, I’m willing to overlook that Oxford comma thing.

Besides: Tom Hanks.

Solve for X

If you’re at all mathematically inclined—algebraic, even—you might find this amusing:

I do. So much that I'm not even waiting for Pi day to post it.

I guess...

This was part of one of those cutsy quizzes that your friends post on Facebook, so you click through to take yourself.

  

Although they supposedly tell you one thing or another about you, there is one thread that consistently runs through them: they often use such poor language, logic or both that it’s hard sometimes to wend your way through the multiple choices. (And that leaves aside the issue that frequently you wouldn’t have any of those multiple choices on a platter with hot fudge sauce on it, so your inputs aren’t the highest quality data.)

Anyhow, I got a little confused on this:

How can you possibly be doing two opposite things for a majority of the time?

Logistics

The move a couple of weeks ago wasn’t the worst one, but it also wasn’t the best. Considering all the recommendations I’d got for this moving company, and their advertising on local PBS stations about how much care they take of your possessions, the lasting impression that JK Moving gave me was that my business is not really worth their time.

I mentioned before how they gave me a quote for cross-country relocation that was way over the odds of what other companies estimated. (And some of those other companies were reputable, even.) And that, not content to charge me more than 20% of my interstate costs, their final price for a 20-mile move was 12% over the estimate.

But over the weekend I discovered that one of these movers had jammed a yoga mat and its carrying bag into what the Container Store calls a Vertical Gift Wrap Organizer. Along with a used plastic water bottle and candy bar wrapper, packing tape roll and other trash:

And when I say “jammed”, I mean with such force that the container broke at the bottom:

Now, here’s one of the things I hate about movers—and in fairness to JK, every moving company I’ve used in the past 20 years has done this—they know when they’ve damaged something, but instead of fessing up to it, they try to hide it. Does this stuff come out of their individual pockets?

(For my relocation from Virginia to Seattle, the Mayflower unloaders actually put a floor lamp they’d bent in transit behind a wall of cartons in a backyard storage shed. Like I wasn’t going to notice that the one source of light for the living room was missing and go looking for it.)

Sure enough, my trained professionals put the bin, smashed side to the wall, in a closet. And left me to dispose of their rubbish when I opened it up to see why it might have broken.

So, not that they care, I won’t be recommending them to anyone in the near future.

Gratitude Monday: On the books

On this Gratitude Monday, I’m glad I once again have access to the Fairfax County Public Library.

I got my library card a week ago, already finished the first book I checked out, and have a shedload of books on hold.

Aaahhhh…

Not the neighbors from hell

One more benefit to my new house:

Evidently there’s a brew pub not too far from me. And my Viking Maiden friend is making an introduction to her daughter, who lives nearby, and is acquainted with the pub.

What more could you ask for?

New neighbors

Here are a couple of benefits to my new home:

I look out my back windows and see cardinals, juncos, chickadees, finches, blue jays and robins. Friday morning, when I went out in search of something to cover over the nasty sticky liner crap in the kitchen drawers and shelves, I was actually brought to a halt because I heard birdsong.

Imma have to find squirrel-proof bird feeders. I tossed out some Fine Tunes for the song birds I saw loitering about, but squirrel radar picked up on it while the birds were still trying to ascertain whether it was some sort of Evil Avian Trap. I am not the Sciuridae smorgasbord.

Also: I have no idea what this is, but it’s scattered around the back yard:

Treasure hunt

Update from last week’s move report:

I did find my down jacket. On Saturday. 

It was stuffed in a drawer in the file cabinet.

Light and space

Well, there’s more floor to be seen than there was a couple of days ago:

 

Vs.

I figured out a kludge to restart the stuck garbage disposal (no hex wrench, but a slot screwdriver worked fine), and I believe I have enough food organized that I don’t have to shop for groceries until next weekend.

One of the things I love most about this place is that the back of the house faces south—even on cloudy days, the living-dining area is bright enough that I don’t have to turn on lights.

Which is good because you would not believe what the previous owners have for a dining room light:

Not only is it butt-ugly, and a hazard to ambulation because it hangs down to about five feet off the floor, but it throws absolutely no discernable light anywhere because it was fitted with a single “eco smart” bulb that has a cold, dim output of about 3 watts.

I looked at it yesterday: there was only the one bulb, although there are fittings for two. I put in the single, dim “eco smart” bulb that had been in the one, functionally useless overhead light in the kitchen. The light is still cold and uninviting, but it’s now marginally less dim. Still marked for replacement.

What’s interesting about the kitchen situation is that the overhead light is clearly wired for two lamps, but whoever installed this didn’t even put in the receptacle for a second bulb. I have to hire an electrician to even get the second dose of wattage. I swapped out the “eco smart” bulb for a 100 watt one, but that’s still inadequate for doing much of anything in a kitchen.

But it’ll have to do for a while.

Gratitude Monday: Settling in

As you know, last week I moved house. Since last Wednesday I’ve unpacked most of my kitchen (and put away about 80% of it), have nearly all my books put away, and can see floor in a few of the rooms in the new place. The new water heater is in place, and the USPS letter carrier is delivering stuff (mostly come-ons from mortgage insurance scammers who obviously troll public records) to the mailbox that’s sitting on the ground because I don’t have concrete bits for a drill.

Or a drill.

But a couple of things that aren’t necessarily Great Progress have inspired my gratitude today.

My first glass of champagne in the new place:

My coffee machine was packed in its original carton, so I could have latte my first morning in.

I found enough bits and bobs to lay out the tablecloth, placemats and napkins that my BFF gave me years ago, and I sat down to dinner at my candlelit dining table. I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels to be able to do that again, after living in a cavern for the past year.