The News from Lake Glasgow…

Last night we saw animals going by, two-by-two, and in herds of seven…

After one of the “driest April’s on record” in the UK (to which we said, “REALLY!???” Apparently it’s true. Central England birding societies claimed people should flood their gardens with hoses so that swallows had mud to build nests. It was never, in Glesga, anyway, that warm or dry…!), it rained almost daily through the month of May, and is well on its way to deluging through the month of June — with sporadic hail, and what T. swears was slush the other day. Welcome to the lake! At least it sounds like a summer destination…

People are CRANKY, hilariously so. We always talk about the weather in Glasgow, but now it’s devolved into swearing about the weather. What’s amusing is that people are making up one-liners and pithy little asides — and even as they’re being cranky, they’re making us smile. The minute the sun peeps out — and it tends to do that first thing in the morning, and last thing in the early evening — there are fifteen people running into the crescent park, tossing down their disposable bbq’s and filling the air with the smoke of their burnt offerings. Eventually, the rain gods will be propitiated…

Meanwhile, the flowers have given up on waiting and are bursting forth at last. We have some stupendously bright poppies in the Kelvingrove Park promenade area. Whoever is responsible for changing the plantings each year should go on our Christmas list. The flowers have been wonderful every year, but this year is especially fine. We have never seen poppies so bright or so big! (No, it has nothing to do with the extra rain.)

The world seems brighter because D. is so much better. T. opened the last can of pumpkin in celebration. (Yes, she actually shared her pie. She was that happy.) He is making up for lost time and working hard every spare moment on his big final paper. So far with not a lot of direction, as it appears his supervisors are both concurrently on holiday. However, D. merely is continuing to make the expansions and adjustments he noted that were missing in his first draft — as those edits are approved, he can’t go wrong.

In more work news, D’s company is being sold. Again. Apparently it happens every three years, and makes sense to the owners/shareholders — somehow it makes them all more money. D. was hired on almost four years ago, right after the last sale went through, and missed the time of panic and chaos that went with it. This time, all i’s were dotted, all t’s were crossed, and everyone was pushpushpushpushed into making themselves look as good as possible on paper and otherwise. D. took as much pushing as he could, and then retired to his “home office” to work, but at last the nonsense is over, and his department has received a commendation. (Yay!) That sort of thing doesn’t make much sense to T., but she’s glad it’s over, since that, on top of everything else, has been more stress than D. really needed, just recovering from being so ill! Meanwhile, T. finally has finished the edits for Book #3, and that is off to copy editing at Knopf/Random House. Book #4 is in the queue with the editor, and #5 is in that mid-revision stage where T. sighs a lot and groans about Why Did I Think I Could Write Science Fiction. She spends a lot of time Googling NASA and reading up on the statistics of newly discovered planets. (This may or may not help.)

Things are continuing to wind down — as we reach midsummer, we have to start seriously focusing on, “Okay, what next?” D. has so far sent out twenty+ resumes to various companies on the North American continent, and we’re eager to begin hearing back from them.

Job-hunting remains a supremely vexing, highly amusing exercise. With the plethora of job sites around, it’s easy enough to do all of this from the comfort of one’s own home, and then the groans and sarcastic mumblings are that much more fun. D. kept a tally of those recruiter words that he hates — passionate (one ad managed to use the word SIX TIMES), dynamic, fast-paced, amazing, innovative, thrilling, fun, high-end, top-flight, agile, amazing, awesome, live-and-breathe your work, trendy, hip, and the phrase, “we get it.” Technology positions – whether in the academic realm (we did find a few of those) or just in the business environment, are detail-oriented, precise, maybe even painstaking. But passionate? Dynamic? Hip? Trendy? Really??

Seriously, though: does one often feel that one’s job is amazing and dynamic? Are you passionate about the top-flight place where you work? Does your boss “get it?” Do you live and breathe whatever it is you do in your fast-paced, amazing office, doing whatever, which is both thrilling and innovative and any of the other adjectives which would mean that you’re successful in the baffling dot.com boom/recruiter parlance? Except for T’s eldest sister, who loves her job, and whose boss is a seventy-year-old nun (this does not mean she is made of spun sugar, people, just that she’s straightforward and amusing), most people don’t have this glorious relationship with their workplace. (At Big Sister’s office, they even get a dog. That’s probably both hip and trendy. Nun bosses: who knew!) At this point, we’re merely praying for something which is reasonably stress-free, pays decently and doesn’t suck up D’s whole life.

D. is finding it hard to remember life before working and going to school full time. Once upon a time, he used to play the violin, draw on a scratch board, knit, bake, sketch, skate, cycle, swim, garden… you know, live? We’re grateful to our friend AB and others for dragging us to concerts and plays and trying to help us remember to make time to live a balanced life — it will be easier once we get away from having to worry about That Huge Paper…! Two weeks from this Friday, he turns it in…

Many of you have asked us where we’re off to next, and we’ve concluded that what’s important to us right now is perhaps not so much a familiar place, but a place that’s a little closer, thus the continent switch. For all we know, we could still end up in Hong Kong or something, but our aim at this point is to put a little less travel time between us and our nearest and dearest. We’ll see how that goes.

The season of celebrations has arrived – in spite of the weather – or, maybe because of it – there are parties all over. D. discovered a great little pub down an unexplored side street when his office had a going-away party for a mother-to-be, and is planning to drag T. over for their “skinny French fries! Real ones!” (She is resisting thus far, arguing that her life has been better with no French fries, because she refuses to eat the thick-cut chips people restaurants seem to prefer here, but D. is insistent. She may have to cave.) A chorus friend is departing for Tanzania, another friend for Germany. Many farewell celebrations are planned, and it’s almost more difficult to see friends go, not knowing where we’re going, but we’re glad that so many people already have a “next destination” planned.

The first of our summer weddings will be celebrated this Friday. Our darling Axel is marrying his Minnesota belle (Sadly, she is not from Lake Wobegon, but we can pretend), and we’re on work detail to man the cameras and capture the event for posterity. This is so much better than being a mere guest. T. has “martha-ing” in her genes, and finds it hard to just sit still in a floofy dress in the middle of strangers anyway, so now with a camera in hand, the Hobbits practically have press passes. We can hang with the caterers and snitch food, and run around paparazzi-ing everyone.

Our last wedding is in July, and T. plans to get a professional henna-ing job done on her hands, and is getting a specially made wrap from India. Neither the first nor the last wedding is going to be in English, which will be interesting, but we’ll be glad to celebrate with our friends as they embark on their hopeful life journeys.

Well, that’s the news from Lake… um, the West End of Glasgow, where the men are fair – pale, poor lads, since the sun refuses to shine – the women are stuffed into “jeggings” and teetering on cobblestones in high heels, and all the children are in wellies and colorful raincoats, watching the animals go by toward the Ark…