I got Michael the mini-series pilot and season one of Battlestar Galactica, so yesterday as a break from watching Deep Space Nine (my all time favorite) with my grandmother, we watched the Battlestar Galactica miniseries.

I realize that this is out of the ordinary for us, since not only is the show not several years old, but they’re still making it. (This is a problem, since we’ll have to watch slowly, or we’ll catch up to the current season and then be done for.)

Aside from too much boinking (did I mention we were watching this with my grandmother?) it wasn’t bad.

What surprised me was how much parts of it reminded me of Firefly. Primarily the space shots and the way they were filmed and cut. It’s funny how I never particularly paid much attention to things like how scenes are shot, until we watched Babylon 5, in which the cinematography of the first season was abysmal (or worse). The I started to pay a bit more attention to things that were good, and things that were bad. Not a lot mind you, because I’m not that interested in filming and direction and all that, but I do find it interesting how the way a scene or show is filmed and scored can make a tremendous difference in the overall feel of the story.

So, they did a good job with that with Battlestar Galactica. I’m not quite sure yet how I feel about the story arc, but I very much liked the writing and story telling I saw so far. Lots of bad things happened, and bad things have consequences.

I like that.

So feel free to tell me whether we’ll continue to enjoy it, but DON’T tell me about the story. We’ve only got season one so far. Plus we’ve got three more seasons of Deep Space Nine to watch with my grandmother, and at some point we have to finsh Farscape. (We started season 3 of Farscape, but got annoyed with the story, and so put that on hold for something we definitely liked.)

At some point we’re going to run out of science fiction to watch on DVD. Not sure what we’re going to do then.

Today’s plans were to finish cleaning the house and to go to the moves. (Although Morgantown never got Fearless in the theaters, we have Curse of the Golden Flower. I will never understand how these things work.)

When Michael got up, the bedroom light had stopped working, and needed to be replaced. When we left the house to go buy a new fixture, there was already an inch of snow on the ground, and it still hasn’t stopped snowing.

So no movie for us. Maybe later–assuming Curse of the Golden Flower stays around that long.

On the plus side: SNOW!

It’s Saturday morning, and I can’t bring myself to get out of bed.

Normally I love the possibility of the weekend, but now, all I can think of are the tasks that loom before me, things that have remained undone because of work, because of travel, because of who knows why.

It’s not that I’m lazy, but I like–maybe even need–to have a certain amount of down time. Time to myself to do things like read and write. But I haven’t really written in a year. Not really. And my reading has come snatched in bits and pieces.

For the past several weeks, when we get home from work, the days have been so long, and so busy, that I’m too tired to do much more than collapse on the sofa, eat chocolate, and watch a couple of episodes of DS9. Because it’s mindless. Because it requires nothing of me other than to sit and stare and enjoy. And because it’s something we can all do together. I don’t feel like I’m ignoring everyone. It’s an escape we can all make together.

Even now, as I take the time to write this–to do something I love to do–it’s hard to enjoy it, because I’m looking around at all the things undone, and thinking of everything I need to do. Everyone but me is still in bed, so I’m not ignoring anyone with my writing, but the list of tasks is still there: go grocery shopping, finish putting way everything from last weeks travels, clean the house (boy does the house need cleaned), do laundry. All the little tasks that you do all the time, only you do them in bits in pieces during the week, instead of letting them pile up at once.

I don’t know what all this means. I’m tired–but it’s to be expected. Work is incredibly busy right now, but I know things will get better. The situation with Michael’s grandmother will eventually resolve, although none of the possibilities seem to be good ones. And the multiple situations with my own family that are gnawing at my mind will resolve as well, one way or another.

Somehow, I’m going to learn to manage my time. To set aside time for writing. To set aside time for reading. Don’t quite know how I’m going to do it. But I’m going to try.

An insanely busy work week opening up the new facility, followed up by driving 950 miles over a four day weekend for a wedding in Virginia, and visiting Michael’s grandmother in the hospital in Ohio.

Michael’s grandmother isn’t doing well at all; we’ll probably have an even less pleasant trip to Ohio in the coming weeks.

One day again I’ll fill this space with interesting tidbits.

That day will probably not occur this week.

I do hope, however, to have a couple of wedding photos up. Of course, I also meant to put up pictures from my Mom’s birthday, and that was in December.

At least it felt like that. I spent most of the day walking around the lab helping people get settled into the new facility. Things went surprisingly well from an operational standpoint.

Plus, I got to tell 27″ TV guy that he is NOT welcome in the facility; I got to be the lab bouncer. It was actually somewhat scary, because 27″ TV guy is NOT stable, and he’s quite threatening when he goes on about Microsoft coming to his door to arrest him. (I kid you not.)

However, it was for the best that I booted the lout, since he has on three separate occasions attempted to start a fight with my male co-worker, and we really didn’t need fisticuffs on our first day in the new facility. Luckily, he decided NOT to take a swing at a female half his size (me), and left with only yelling and ranting about Microsoft and the WVU cops.

And that was my first day in the new digs. Hopefully, the remainder of the week will be far less exciting.

Except, of course, that tomorrow is the day that the President of the University and other assorted big wigs come in to view the new facility. So maybe I’ll shoot for Wednesday being less exciting.

Came back to work Wednesday, to find out that the new facility opens Monday.

So we have to get all the computers set up. Between the open lab and the two classrooms, that’s about 100 computers.

Plus the printers and scanners and other sundries.

Plus, we have to get out offices set up somewhere in there.

Plus, we have to keep the old facility open through Friday.

Plus, the president of the university and other big wigs will be touring the facility on Tuesday, so everything has to be in perfect working order by then.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(sigh)

Mind you, we don’t eve have keys to our offices yet…

So… see you next week–unless of course I get to be the warm body keeping the old lab open, in which case I’ll be bored out of my mind.

Happy New Year!

I can’t believe it’s 2007 already.

NOTE: Do all cooking prep work before the family arrives.

Trying to cut vegetables and answer everyone’s questions leads only to disaster.

(No appendages were lost or stitches required; but if I had any doubts, I’m keeping my good knives plenty sharp.)

Adeste, fideles, laeti triumphantes;
Venite, venite in Bethlehem.
Natum videte Regem angelorum.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine,
Parturit virgo mater,
Deum verum, genitum, non factum.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

En grege relicto, humiles ad cunas
Vocati pastores approperant:
Et nos ovanti gradu festinemus.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Stella duce, Magi Christum adorantes,
Aurum, thus, et myrrham dant munera.
Jesu infanti corda praebeamus.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Aeterni Parrentis splendorem aeternum
Velatum sub carne videbimus,
Deum infantem, pannis involutem.

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Pro nobis egenum et foeno cubantem
Piis foveamus amplexibus;
Sic nos amantem quis non redamaret?

Venite adoremus, venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus, Dominum.

Adestes Fideles

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke of it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!”

–Clement Clarke Moore

Congratulations Andy and Heather!

Welcome Natalie!

(I’m guessing on the spelling here)

The other thing that we’ve been busy is planning my Mom’s surprise 60th Birthday party.
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It’s already seven o’clock! Where is everyone!

Okay. I didn’t actually want to be up this early either. But sometimes, there’s just stuff you’ve gotta do.

And to be honest, the stuff I have to do doesn’t involve the computer, so I’d best move along.

(Of course today’s Andy’s wife’s due date. So maybe THAT’S where everyone is!)

I present evidence of the shearing of the locks.
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