Patti O'Shea's Blog, page 192
December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas!
This video was done by the Cottage Grove Fire Department and it's awesome! Merry Christmas from me and the firefighters!
FlashoverTV is powered by FireRescue1.com
FlashoverTV is powered by FireRescue1.com
December 23, 2010
Christmas Past
On this eve before Christmas Eve, I thought it might be fun to share a few of my holiday memories. I don't anticipate having a cohesive whole, but rather random things that stuck with me.
The first Christmas I have a solid memory of is the one when I was 5. I wanted a Barbie doll soooooo bad...and didn't get one. I couldn't believe Santa didn't bring me the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world. I'm sure there were tears to go along with the disappointment. I got Barbie on my 6th birthday.
It was maybe a couple years later when an older neighborhood girl told me there was no such thing as Santa. I went straight to my mom and asked. Instead of telling me yes or no on Santa, my mom asked me what I thought. As soon as Mom asked the question, I knew the girl was right--Santa didn't exist. Maybe I should have marked this as a spoiler.
Of course, I had a younger brother who still believed in Santa. I remember helping my mom and dad put out his presents from Santa and thinking it was pretty cool to be in on the adult secrets. That probably happened a year or two after the big reveal.
Some of my favorite memories involve the dogs, first Mush and then Kody. They always got presents, too, usually dog treats wrapped up. One year my parents gave my brother golf balls and the box was the same size and shape as the dog's gift. Mush grabbed my brother's present from under the tree and ran around with it because she thought it was hers.
Mush used to open her Christmas presents. She'd take the paper off, ripping just like a little kid. Kody wouldn't take her own paper off. She made one of us do it for her.
I'm still dreaming of a green Christmas. I've never had one of those.
Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays! I wish each and every one of you a safe and joyous holiday season!
The first Christmas I have a solid memory of is the one when I was 5. I wanted a Barbie doll soooooo bad...and didn't get one. I couldn't believe Santa didn't bring me the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world. I'm sure there were tears to go along with the disappointment. I got Barbie on my 6th birthday.
It was maybe a couple years later when an older neighborhood girl told me there was no such thing as Santa. I went straight to my mom and asked. Instead of telling me yes or no on Santa, my mom asked me what I thought. As soon as Mom asked the question, I knew the girl was right--Santa didn't exist. Maybe I should have marked this as a spoiler.
Of course, I had a younger brother who still believed in Santa. I remember helping my mom and dad put out his presents from Santa and thinking it was pretty cool to be in on the adult secrets. That probably happened a year or two after the big reveal.
Some of my favorite memories involve the dogs, first Mush and then Kody. They always got presents, too, usually dog treats wrapped up. One year my parents gave my brother golf balls and the box was the same size and shape as the dog's gift. Mush grabbed my brother's present from under the tree and ran around with it because she thought it was hers.
Mush used to open her Christmas presents. She'd take the paper off, ripping just like a little kid. Kody wouldn't take her own paper off. She made one of us do it for her.
I'm still dreaming of a green Christmas. I've never had one of those.
Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays! I wish each and every one of you a safe and joyous holiday season!
December 21, 2010
Adventures In Cable TV
Comcast cable went all digital in October which means cable-ready TV sets are no longer cable-ready. Now they require a small box about the size of an external DVD drive in order to pick up the digital cable signal. My parents have two televisions with these boxes, and when I was over Sunday night for dinner, my mom was complaining that the box in the family room wasn't working. I went to investigate.
To be honest, I wasn't expecting to find a problem. The more advanced the technology gets, the harder it is for my parents to adjust. I turned the TV on and then used the remote for the digital cable box to try to change stations. My mom was right. It didn't work.
I immediately slipped into troubleshooting mode. Nothing seemed wrong with the remote. Now I needed to check out the digital box.
I couldn't find it.
From the family room, I call to the kitchen, "Where's the box?" No helpful answer, so I start looking around the television. Not on top. That's where I put my digital box. Not below on the shelf of the entertainment center. I look to either side, but I don't see anything.
Since the TV wouldn't have a picture at all if the box wasn't attached, I know it's there. Somewhere. I get up to take a closer look. My search finally locates the digital box. It's got clutter on top of it. It's got clutter in front of it. It's behind the wooden strip on the front of the entertainment center.
After clearing out all the stuff around the box and propping it up on the wood strip, the remote worked just fine.
Another crisis averted. Just add cable repair technician to my resume.
To be honest, I wasn't expecting to find a problem. The more advanced the technology gets, the harder it is for my parents to adjust. I turned the TV on and then used the remote for the digital cable box to try to change stations. My mom was right. It didn't work.
I immediately slipped into troubleshooting mode. Nothing seemed wrong with the remote. Now I needed to check out the digital box.
I couldn't find it.
From the family room, I call to the kitchen, "Where's the box?" No helpful answer, so I start looking around the television. Not on top. That's where I put my digital box. Not below on the shelf of the entertainment center. I look to either side, but I don't see anything.
Since the TV wouldn't have a picture at all if the box wasn't attached, I know it's there. Somewhere. I get up to take a closer look. My search finally locates the digital box. It's got clutter on top of it. It's got clutter in front of it. It's behind the wooden strip on the front of the entertainment center.
After clearing out all the stuff around the box and propping it up on the wood strip, the remote worked just fine.
Another crisis averted. Just add cable repair technician to my resume.
December 19, 2010
Language Precision
I have a ton of training to take at work over the next month. One of these classes was last Thursday and was filled with engineers. It was also taught by an engineer. The class was supposed to take an hour, but I looked around the room and thought, No way are we getting out of here that quickly. The only thing that might save me is the class went from 10am to 11 and a lot of engineers go to lunch at 11.
It didn't take long for me to groan silently to myself. One of the first manual sections we reviewed contained the words: and/or. An engineer asked for clarification, and when he received it, began to argue that it should be and, not and/or.
One of the things that still amazes me is how many engineers demand exact precision in language and how literally they'll take every word. Some don't, but a lot do. And just try using the secondary definition of a word. Yeah, argument time for sure.
Nothing makes me crazier than when I'm talking to one of them and I say something like, "You should wear a red shirt on Fridays--" I don't even get to finish that sentence before they'll jump on the phrasing. You see they take should to be an order and don't like that. Never mind that I'm not trying to give an order. I'm just saying that I heard wearing a red shirt on Fridays is a way to show support for the US troops, but they think I'm telling them they have to wear a red shirt. Sigh.
So there we are in training with an engineer arguing over and/or and other engineers jumped in to support him. The engineer leading the course took a note, deciding that his fellow brethren had a point--and/or wasn't precise enough.
This is the way the entire class went, but that was about the only time anyone in that room participated. The instructor would ask a question and they'd all sit there. When you're told up front that the entire class would circle back to one fact, wouldn't you make a note of it? And when the question was asked, wouldn't you give that answer? Apparently not if you're an engineer. I, however, have a journalism degree. I did note it and when the rest of them sat there, I gave the correct answer. :-)
And yes, the class did run over, but only about 10 or 15 minutes. I feared it was going to be much worse.
It didn't take long for me to groan silently to myself. One of the first manual sections we reviewed contained the words: and/or. An engineer asked for clarification, and when he received it, began to argue that it should be and, not and/or.
One of the things that still amazes me is how many engineers demand exact precision in language and how literally they'll take every word. Some don't, but a lot do. And just try using the secondary definition of a word. Yeah, argument time for sure.
Nothing makes me crazier than when I'm talking to one of them and I say something like, "You should wear a red shirt on Fridays--" I don't even get to finish that sentence before they'll jump on the phrasing. You see they take should to be an order and don't like that. Never mind that I'm not trying to give an order. I'm just saying that I heard wearing a red shirt on Fridays is a way to show support for the US troops, but they think I'm telling them they have to wear a red shirt. Sigh.
So there we are in training with an engineer arguing over and/or and other engineers jumped in to support him. The engineer leading the course took a note, deciding that his fellow brethren had a point--and/or wasn't precise enough.
This is the way the entire class went, but that was about the only time anyone in that room participated. The instructor would ask a question and they'd all sit there. When you're told up front that the entire class would circle back to one fact, wouldn't you make a note of it? And when the question was asked, wouldn't you give that answer? Apparently not if you're an engineer. I, however, have a journalism degree. I did note it and when the rest of them sat there, I gave the correct answer. :-)
And yes, the class did run over, but only about 10 or 15 minutes. I feared it was going to be much worse.
December 16, 2010
Adventures Can Happen Anywhere
Adventures can happen in the oddest places at the oddest times. Yesterday I had one when I least expected it.
I was supposed to go to SET training yesterday, but a half an hour before it started, I was told to go to Part 145 Mod 1 training instead. I know, the names don't mean anything to you, but it helps keep them straight as I talk. SET training was 45 minutes, Part 145 Mod 1 is 4 hours.
This changes also required me to mentally shift my schedule for the day. Not my favorite thing because I'm not a real fan of spur of the moment anything. I like time to plan, and although this is far cry from say, hopping on a plane and flying to Singapore, it's still a disruption to my mental organization and I don't like this. I always end up feeling frazzled as my mind tries to adjust to the new plan.
The Part 145 Mod 1 training is in a training room above Hangar 4. This is an area of the building that I'm unfamiliar with because I never go over there. Keep in mind that lining the hallways are rooms to clean airplane parts, shops that fix parts, boxes with parts, and all the other equipment needed to fix airplanes. When I say the training room is over hangar 4, I mean it is directly over hangar 4, so I'm in the maintenance operation area.
I'll skip all the training stuff, including the fact that I nearly got bumped out of the room, and get to my inadvertent adventure.
We get a break and I seek out a restroom. I went down the hallway by the training room, but there's just more training rooms. I go down the stairs and to my left. I find the men's room, but that doesn't help me. Someone finally points me the other direction and tells me it's down by the garage door (remember, I'm in the hangars area.)
I thought I missed it. I walked and walked and walked and there are multiple "garage doors" all over this place. I was thinking I was going to have to ask someone for help, when I finally spotted it. Whew! It's actually a fairly large bathroom with those round fountain type sinks like you sometimes see in grade schools. I wash and dry my hands, put some lotion on, and leave to head back to class.
I stop short just outside the door. This doesn't look right. Which way do I go?
I study the area, trying to figure out which way to turn. This really looks unfamiliar. In fact, it doesn't even look like a hallway, it looks like a hangar. How can I come in from the hallway, and when I leave, it's a hangar?
The light bulb goes on. There must be two doors!
I turn around and go back in the bathroom. Sure enough, there are two doors. I go out the other one, the one I would have known to use if I'd 1) been paying attention when I walked in. That side of the bathroom was much different than the opposite side. 2) wasn't completely directionally challenged. 3) wasn't already feeling a bit frazzled about being late getting back to class because of how far the restroom was from the training room.
This time I am in the hallway, but I still have to figure out which way to go. Yes, I am that directionally challenged and the other items in the previous paragraph apply here, too. I chose left. I had a 50/50 shot and I was right! Woot!
Of course, I still needed help finding my way back to the main hallway after class, but that's another story.
I was supposed to go to SET training yesterday, but a half an hour before it started, I was told to go to Part 145 Mod 1 training instead. I know, the names don't mean anything to you, but it helps keep them straight as I talk. SET training was 45 minutes, Part 145 Mod 1 is 4 hours.
This changes also required me to mentally shift my schedule for the day. Not my favorite thing because I'm not a real fan of spur of the moment anything. I like time to plan, and although this is far cry from say, hopping on a plane and flying to Singapore, it's still a disruption to my mental organization and I don't like this. I always end up feeling frazzled as my mind tries to adjust to the new plan.
The Part 145 Mod 1 training is in a training room above Hangar 4. This is an area of the building that I'm unfamiliar with because I never go over there. Keep in mind that lining the hallways are rooms to clean airplane parts, shops that fix parts, boxes with parts, and all the other equipment needed to fix airplanes. When I say the training room is over hangar 4, I mean it is directly over hangar 4, so I'm in the maintenance operation area.
I'll skip all the training stuff, including the fact that I nearly got bumped out of the room, and get to my inadvertent adventure.
We get a break and I seek out a restroom. I went down the hallway by the training room, but there's just more training rooms. I go down the stairs and to my left. I find the men's room, but that doesn't help me. Someone finally points me the other direction and tells me it's down by the garage door (remember, I'm in the hangars area.)
I thought I missed it. I walked and walked and walked and there are multiple "garage doors" all over this place. I was thinking I was going to have to ask someone for help, when I finally spotted it. Whew! It's actually a fairly large bathroom with those round fountain type sinks like you sometimes see in grade schools. I wash and dry my hands, put some lotion on, and leave to head back to class.
I stop short just outside the door. This doesn't look right. Which way do I go?
I study the area, trying to figure out which way to turn. This really looks unfamiliar. In fact, it doesn't even look like a hallway, it looks like a hangar. How can I come in from the hallway, and when I leave, it's a hangar?
The light bulb goes on. There must be two doors!
I turn around and go back in the bathroom. Sure enough, there are two doors. I go out the other one, the one I would have known to use if I'd 1) been paying attention when I walked in. That side of the bathroom was much different than the opposite side. 2) wasn't completely directionally challenged. 3) wasn't already feeling a bit frazzled about being late getting back to class because of how far the restroom was from the training room.
This time I am in the hallway, but I still have to figure out which way to go. Yes, I am that directionally challenged and the other items in the previous paragraph apply here, too. I chose left. I had a 50/50 shot and I was right! Woot!
Of course, I still needed help finding my way back to the main hallway after class, but that's another story.
Adventures Can Happy Anywhere
Adventures can happen in the oddest places at the oddest times. Yesterday I had one when I least expected it.
I was supposed to go to SET training yesterday, but a half an hour before it started, I was told to go to Part 145 Mod 1 training instead. I know, the names don't mean anything to you, but it helps keep them straight as I talk. SET training was 45 minutes, Part 145 Mod 1 is 4 hours.
This changes also required me to mentally shift my schedule for the day. Not my favorite thing because I'm not a real fan of spur of the moment anything. I like time to plan, and although this is far cry from say, hopping on a plane and flying to Singapore, it's still a disruption to my mental organization and I don't like this. I always end up feeling frazzled as my mind tries to adjust to the new plan.
The Part 145 Mod 1 training is in a training room above Hangar 4. This is an area of the building that I'm unfamiliar with because I never go over there. Keep in mind that lining the hallways are rooms to clean airplane parts, shops that fix parts, boxes with parts, and all the other equipment needed to fix airplanes. When I say the training room is over hangar 4, I mean it is directly over hangar 4, so I'm in the maintenance operation area.
I'll skip all the training stuff, including the fact that I nearly got bumped out of the room, and get to my inadvertent adventure.
We get a break and I seek out a restroom. I went down the hallway by the training room, but there's just more training rooms. I go down the stairs and to my left. I find the men's room, but that doesn't help me. Someone finally points me the other direction and tells me it's down by the garage door (remember, I'm in the hangars area.)
I thought I missed it. I walked and walked and walked and there are multiple "garage doors" all over this place. I was thinking I was going to have to ask someone for help, when I finally spotted it. Whew! It's actually a fairly large bathroom with those round fountain type sinks like you sometimes see in grade schools. I wash and dry my hands, put some lotion on, and leave to head back to class.
I stop short just outside the door. This doesn't look right. Which way do I go?
I study the area, trying to figure out which way to turn. This really looks unfamiliar. In fact, it doesn't even look like a hallway, it looks like a hangar. How can I come in from the hallway, and when I leave, it's a hangar?
The light bulb goes on. There must be two doors!
I turn around and go back in the bathroom. Sure enough, there are two doors. I go out the other one, the one I would have known to use if I'd 1) been paying attention when I walked in. That side of the bathroom was much different than the opposite side. 2) wasn't completely directionally challenged. 3) wasn't already feeling a bit frazzled about being late getting back to class because of how far the restroom was from the training room.
This time I am in the hallway, but I still have to figure out which way to go. Yes, I am that directionally challenged and the other items in the previous paragraph apply here, too. I chose left. I had a 50/50 shot and I was right! Woot!
Of course, I still needed help finding my way back to the main hallway after class, but that's another story.
I was supposed to go to SET training yesterday, but a half an hour before it started, I was told to go to Part 145 Mod 1 training instead. I know, the names don't mean anything to you, but it helps keep them straight as I talk. SET training was 45 minutes, Part 145 Mod 1 is 4 hours.
This changes also required me to mentally shift my schedule for the day. Not my favorite thing because I'm not a real fan of spur of the moment anything. I like time to plan, and although this is far cry from say, hopping on a plane and flying to Singapore, it's still a disruption to my mental organization and I don't like this. I always end up feeling frazzled as my mind tries to adjust to the new plan.
The Part 145 Mod 1 training is in a training room above Hangar 4. This is an area of the building that I'm unfamiliar with because I never go over there. Keep in mind that lining the hallways are rooms to clean airplane parts, shops that fix parts, boxes with parts, and all the other equipment needed to fix airplanes. When I say the training room is over hangar 4, I mean it is directly over hangar 4, so I'm in the maintenance operation area.
I'll skip all the training stuff, including the fact that I nearly got bumped out of the room, and get to my inadvertent adventure.
We get a break and I seek out a restroom. I went down the hallway by the training room, but there's just more training rooms. I go down the stairs and to my left. I find the men's room, but that doesn't help me. Someone finally points me the other direction and tells me it's down by the garage door (remember, I'm in the hangars area.)
I thought I missed it. I walked and walked and walked and there are multiple "garage doors" all over this place. I was thinking I was going to have to ask someone for help, when I finally spotted it. Whew! It's actually a fairly large bathroom with those round fountain type sinks like you sometimes see in grade schools. I wash and dry my hands, put some lotion on, and leave to head back to class.
I stop short just outside the door. This doesn't look right. Which way do I go?
I study the area, trying to figure out which way to turn. This really looks unfamiliar. In fact, it doesn't even look like a hallway, it looks like a hangar. How can I come in from the hallway, and when I leave, it's a hangar?
The light bulb goes on. There must be two doors!
I turn around and go back in the bathroom. Sure enough, there are two doors. I go out the other one, the one I would have known to use if I'd 1) been paying attention when I walked in. That side of the bathroom was much different than the opposite side. 2) wasn't completely directionally challenged. 3) wasn't already feeling a bit frazzled about being late getting back to class because of how far the restroom was from the training room.
This time I am in the hallway, but I still have to figure out which way to go. Yes, I am that directionally challenged and the other items in the previous paragraph apply here, too. I chose left. I had a 50/50 shot and I was right! Woot!
Of course, I still needed help finding my way back to the main hallway after class, but that's another story.
December 14, 2010
Are You Tough Enough?
The video below is the snow I'm having to deal with after more than 17" were dumped on the Twin Cities over the weekend. I know I got more than 17 inches at my house, but this is the number they're going with for official tallies. This makes it the 5th largest snow storm on record, BTW.
At first, I intended to narrate the video as I filmed, but decided all you'd hear is my teeth chattering if I tried to talk while I was outside. This morning, it was -13 degrees here and that's air temperature, not wind chill. The high this afternoon was something like 9 degrees. I'm already tired of being cold and dealing with snow and this stuff will probably be around until the end of March. ::whimper::
Is it any wonder all my computer wallpapers are pictures of tropical islands?
Are you tough enough? Minnesota snow:
At first, I intended to narrate the video as I filmed, but decided all you'd hear is my teeth chattering if I tried to talk while I was outside. This morning, it was -13 degrees here and that's air temperature, not wind chill. The high this afternoon was something like 9 degrees. I'm already tired of being cold and dealing with snow and this stuff will probably be around until the end of March. ::whimper::
Is it any wonder all my computer wallpapers are pictures of tropical islands?
Are you tough enough? Minnesota snow:
December 12, 2010
Organized Chaos
I've blogged before about being organizationally challenged. I like that phrase. :-) I've also mentioned some of the different programs I've downloaded to try and overcome my issues. It's kind of, sort of, maybe helped, but it's also created a different set of "opportunities," to use corporate-speak. I ran into one of these last week.
One of the ways I've tried to organize my computer folders is to color code them. There are free programs available that allow people to swap out the plain manila folder icon with a bunch of other choices, including colored folders. I am all about color, the bolder and brighter the better. But it also seemed to me that if I color-coded my writing folders, it would make life easier. So I did.
I gave each project I'm working on it's own color, and because there are three different shades of each one, I've been able to mark each book in a trilogy with a different shade, but the same color. Um, I hope that sentence is clear. I also make the top level folder that all three books are filed under the color of book one. (If there were four shades of each color, that would have been so much cooler!)
This worked great until last week when I was scanning for my bright blue folder for the Work In Progress (WIP) to file a picture I wanted to refer to and couldn't find any blue folders at all. I actually had to read the folder names.
It turned out the WIP was in orange in my pictures folder.
Oops! So I fixed the color on all the folders after I saved the picture. Today, it occurred to me that instead of having two separate folders for each book--one under pictures and one under writing--I could just have one. Revelation! Just because Microsoft created separate places for the different file types doesn't mean I have to follow it. Um, yeah, duh, but it really never dawned on me until now.
This still won't put all my electronic files in one place because I think the OneNote stuff needs to stay together, but it will cut down on some of the locations. Every little bit helps.
One of the ways I've tried to organize my computer folders is to color code them. There are free programs available that allow people to swap out the plain manila folder icon with a bunch of other choices, including colored folders. I am all about color, the bolder and brighter the better. But it also seemed to me that if I color-coded my writing folders, it would make life easier. So I did.
I gave each project I'm working on it's own color, and because there are three different shades of each one, I've been able to mark each book in a trilogy with a different shade, but the same color. Um, I hope that sentence is clear. I also make the top level folder that all three books are filed under the color of book one. (If there were four shades of each color, that would have been so much cooler!)
This worked great until last week when I was scanning for my bright blue folder for the Work In Progress (WIP) to file a picture I wanted to refer to and couldn't find any blue folders at all. I actually had to read the folder names.
It turned out the WIP was in orange in my pictures folder.
Oops! So I fixed the color on all the folders after I saved the picture. Today, it occurred to me that instead of having two separate folders for each book--one under pictures and one under writing--I could just have one. Revelation! Just because Microsoft created separate places for the different file types doesn't mean I have to follow it. Um, yeah, duh, but it really never dawned on me until now.
This still won't put all my electronic files in one place because I think the OneNote stuff needs to stay together, but it will cut down on some of the locations. Every little bit helps.
December 9, 2010
Adventures In Chair Assembly
At work on Tuesday, the 757 engineers received new desk chairs. Unassembled.
(In case you're wondering why I didn't get a new chair, it's because I'm no longer part of 757 Engineering. I'm now in Maintenance Programs and under a different manager.)
My first thought upon seeing this unassembled chairs is that this should be right up an engineer's alley. Most of them have hobbies that seem to involve putting things together--or taking things apart and then putting them back together. Apparently, chairs are another story.
Instructions? We don't need no stinking instructions! Then he turns to me and asks what he should do first. I said I think you'd start by putting the casters in the base. It makes sense, right? Start at the bottom? So he opens the plastic bag with the casters and hands me the instructions. A quick glance at the paper said I was right, but even after asking me do you think that's what the engineer did? Um, no.
While I'm perusing the directions, he decides to insert the pneumatic cylinder into the seat bottom. The reason I know it was the pneumatic cylinder is that's what it was called in step 2. I would have just called it the tube thing. ;-)
When I glanced up and saw what he was doing, I was like, dude, that's step 2 and you're putting the cylinder in the wrong place anyway. I showed him Figure 1.
At his objection to having to follow the instructions, I said, "I'm glad I'm not going to be sitting in that chair." He reconsidered doing things his way and decided to give the manufacturer's process a chance.
At this point, one of the tech writers came in and sat down. All our tech writers are former airplane mechanics, so I figured they didn't need my presence. While the two of them were working to install the casters, I excused myself for a restroom run. When I came back, the casters were in the base and the pneumatic cylinder had been installed correctly. Mostly. The men had decided to remove the plastic sheath. I was told I never should have left them on their own. Hmm.
I spent the rest of the assembly process reading directions aloud. And rereading them. And holding out the paper and pointing to the diagrams.
The final outcome? Chair was assembled, but the tilt feature won't work. All in all, I thought we did well. I'm still kind of amazed, though, that an engineer and a former mechanic needed me to help them get that chair together.
(In case you're wondering why I didn't get a new chair, it's because I'm no longer part of 757 Engineering. I'm now in Maintenance Programs and under a different manager.)
My first thought upon seeing this unassembled chairs is that this should be right up an engineer's alley. Most of them have hobbies that seem to involve putting things together--or taking things apart and then putting them back together. Apparently, chairs are another story.
Instructions? We don't need no stinking instructions! Then he turns to me and asks what he should do first. I said I think you'd start by putting the casters in the base. It makes sense, right? Start at the bottom? So he opens the plastic bag with the casters and hands me the instructions. A quick glance at the paper said I was right, but even after asking me do you think that's what the engineer did? Um, no.
While I'm perusing the directions, he decides to insert the pneumatic cylinder into the seat bottom. The reason I know it was the pneumatic cylinder is that's what it was called in step 2. I would have just called it the tube thing. ;-)
When I glanced up and saw what he was doing, I was like, dude, that's step 2 and you're putting the cylinder in the wrong place anyway. I showed him Figure 1.
At his objection to having to follow the instructions, I said, "I'm glad I'm not going to be sitting in that chair." He reconsidered doing things his way and decided to give the manufacturer's process a chance.
At this point, one of the tech writers came in and sat down. All our tech writers are former airplane mechanics, so I figured they didn't need my presence. While the two of them were working to install the casters, I excused myself for a restroom run. When I came back, the casters were in the base and the pneumatic cylinder had been installed correctly. Mostly. The men had decided to remove the plastic sheath. I was told I never should have left them on their own. Hmm.
I spent the rest of the assembly process reading directions aloud. And rereading them. And holding out the paper and pointing to the diagrams.
The final outcome? Chair was assembled, but the tilt feature won't work. All in all, I thought we did well. I'm still kind of amazed, though, that an engineer and a former mechanic needed me to help them get that chair together.
December 7, 2010
The Big Spew
I've been talking with a friend about all the verbal spewing I've been doing on the Work In Progress (WIP). Usually, this includes a lament about what a mess it is and how I'm used to writing clean first drafts. And I am. My revision run after the first draft is done is usually very short.
I'm having a little trouble adjusting to this style of writing. Yesterday, I thought, I've never spewed like this before and I don't like it now. Then I realized this wasn't true.
Thinking back a few years, I remember talking to a different writer friend and using the phrase: barfing on the page. Yeah, not the best visual ever, sorry. Okay, so this means that I used to write this way. I survived it. I'll survive it this time, too.
It's so tough, though, to think about all the work I'm going to have to do when this proposal draft is done. It's going to be time consuming and not even a little bit fun.
There are advantages to this method. For one thing, the writing is faster than my excruciatingly slow, almost ready to go first drafts. Those require a great deal of thinking as I write. The other thing that's nice is that as I'm spewing, I'm learning more about my characters. I always know the hero and heroine well before I start writing, but I still pick up more info as I write in their Points Of View (POV). This spewing has me getting more info, faster. The minus is that most of this will need to be cut because it's not interesting to anyone except me.
As hard as it is for me to think about how messy these scenes and chapters are, I've decided to push forward with this method. One of the best pieces of advice I received after I sold was from a long published author who told me that process will change, sometimes from book to book, and to just go with what works. I'm trying.
I'm having a little trouble adjusting to this style of writing. Yesterday, I thought, I've never spewed like this before and I don't like it now. Then I realized this wasn't true.
Thinking back a few years, I remember talking to a different writer friend and using the phrase: barfing on the page. Yeah, not the best visual ever, sorry. Okay, so this means that I used to write this way. I survived it. I'll survive it this time, too.
It's so tough, though, to think about all the work I'm going to have to do when this proposal draft is done. It's going to be time consuming and not even a little bit fun.
There are advantages to this method. For one thing, the writing is faster than my excruciatingly slow, almost ready to go first drafts. Those require a great deal of thinking as I write. The other thing that's nice is that as I'm spewing, I'm learning more about my characters. I always know the hero and heroine well before I start writing, but I still pick up more info as I write in their Points Of View (POV). This spewing has me getting more info, faster. The minus is that most of this will need to be cut because it's not interesting to anyone except me.
As hard as it is for me to think about how messy these scenes and chapters are, I've decided to push forward with this method. One of the best pieces of advice I received after I sold was from a long published author who told me that process will change, sometimes from book to book, and to just go with what works. I'm trying.
