Cha-cha-cha-Changes/Gnaughty Gnatshttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

Week One, March 2008



Bytevue Cranes





A PLANTLADY’S LIFE IN GEEKATOPIA




Haiku Haiku:

Fingers counting sounds
Five, then five and two - poems
Leaping from my hands!


The official bird of Geekatopia is the crane (I recently counted fifteen construction cranes cantilevered over the skyline). A few years ago Bytevue decided that buildings at the heart of this Microsoft metropolis were outdated, suburban and funky-looking - not at all 21st century. So they bulldozed the entire downtown core and started over. Each week, new buildings rise from the depths of their six-story underground parking garages. It is like watching mushrooms erupting overnight from a compost pile. It has gotten so that when I leave an account I never know if it’s going to be there when I get back.

I calculated that I have spent at least two years of my life waiting for slow elevators in high-rises, with little else to do but observe people and concoct theories about their behavior. By now I have theories on pretty much every human activity - none worth a hill of beans no doubt, but it passes time before the little ding announces my flight to floor twelve and beyond.

Prompted by trying to wedge myself and my water tank onto the North Parking Garage elevator at Overlake Hospital in a throng of amply proportioned Geekatopians I came up with two theories to account for the current obesity “epidemic”. We have all heard (and noticed) that Americans are larger than they used to be - no question about it. Diabetes and heart disease is rampant upon the land. It may be lean times economically in this country but you couldn’t tell it by the heft of its citizenry.

And the media is alive with speculation as to the cause of this phenomenon: television? fast food? megalithic portion sizes? sedentary lifestyle? yo-yo dieting? global warming? (Why not, it’s blamed for everything else!) Here are my two theories to add the confusion: 1. The Binky Theory, and 2. The Glutenization of America Theory.

1. The Binky Theory (with apologies to the Binky company - it isn’t their fault their product has been misused any more than it is the fault of Smith and Wesson when someone . . . well, you have heard that argument before, no doubt.). Notice how any time an infant opens its mouth to express discomfort, boredom, anger, hunger, or any other human condition, someone stuffs a rubber plug in its mouth? Is it any wonder that by the time these children grow up they are in the habit of stuffing their faces to comfort themselves? We are talking emotional eating here. Depressed? Eat a pizza. Happy? Eat a pizza with extra cheese and anchovies. Bad breakup or breakout? Quart of Ben and Jerry’s time!

In case you didn’t know, this is a relatively new phenomenon, going back only a few generations. Pacifiers were unknown to my mother’s generation, and to mine (There were “teething rings” but they didn’t serve quite the same purpose as the nipple-shaped pacifiers.). Pacifiers began to be used in the sixties, though I never did give one to my own son (He is skinny as a rail which might help prove my theory - though he does smoke - a symptom of binky depravation? I feel a whole new theory percolating.).

2. This second theory has all the signs of being a conspiracy theory - I call it the Glutenization of America Theory. Within the last fifty years the American diet has become thoroughly polluted with poisonous amounts of gluten! I began to notice this when I went gluten-free ten years ago.

My mother and I have celiac disease which is a hereditary autoimmune disorder characterized by a toxic reaction to gluten - gluten is a protein in grains, particularly wheat, rye, and barley. One person in 133 has celiac disease, though most do not know they have it. The symptoms of celiac are wide ranging and are often misdiagnosed. Because this disease is potentially life-threatening, people with celiac must not eat anything containing gluten - ever! Check out the Celiac Disease Foundation for lots of great information on this common but little-known disorder at: celiac.org

The reason this is pertinent is that until I started reading the ingredients of every packaged item in the grocery store so as to avoid an accidental dose of gluten I was totally unaware that there are very few food products that do NOT contain gluten. If you doubt this, try to find a can of soup that does not list wheat in the ingredients. You will find at most a handful - Progresso offers the most “safe” soups. Campbell’s Soup dominates the soup aisle but makes only one or two soups that do not list wheat - but even those are unlikely to be safe since they are produced in factories where wheat-containing soups are processed. Boy, do I miss Campbell’s Tomato Soup!

Note: Here is my favorite site about living gluten-free. Lots of recipes and ideas from fellow Seattle writer Shauna James Ahern - glutenfreegirl.blogspot.com

And if you try eating out? Good luck. Certainly you are out of luck where it comes to fast food. It is pizza, sandwiches, breaded fried food, and pasta as far as the eye can see - all of it off limits to people with celiac. I am actually not as off topic as you may think. What I am attempting to point out is that the modern American diet is so wheat-dominated that a person has to consciously struggle to avoid it. Such was not the case even fifty years ago. Back in the 1950s eating out at restaurants was something reserved for special occasions and the American family home dinner was typically meat-veg-potato with maybe a biscuit on the side. Sure, you had wheat but it wasn’t in every single thing you ate - which is likely to be the case today!

And now think what it is you feed cattle when you are fattening them up for slaughter. Vegetarians and city folk may not realize it but you fatten cattle with GRAIN. Lots of grain. Which is exactly what most Americans are doing to themselves - fattening themselves and their kids with grain in everything they eat until they waddle out upon the world wondering wha-happened??? Who is responsible for this deplorable state of affairs? Who stands to gain? Wheat farmers, heart surgeons, plus-size jeans makers, diet gurus?

(Of course I personally, intentionally maintain a few extra pounds since at any time I could be exposed to a fragment of gluten and be unable to digest anything for a week or two - that’s my story, and I am sticking to it!)


Plant Care Tip: Gnaughty Gnats

Fungus Gnats are tiny black flying critters that get their thrills flying up the noses of office workers. They are so annoying they have been known to drive sane computer jockeys into windmilling out fourth floor windows. Fungus gnats, as the name implies, eat fungi - usually in wet potting soil though they are also found in floor drains or anywhere else they find a crop of yummy fungi.

Fungus gnats can be especially difficult to control once they take up residence in your office plant’s soil, therefor the best plan is prevention. Soil that stays wet too long is the perfect environment for rot, mildew, and fungus so try to keep your plants on the dry side - let the surface of the soil dry down a bit before you rewater. If the pot has drainage holes in the bottom (which it should) try watering into a saucer instead of over the soil surface where the fly eggs await activation. If you know you have gnats in the soil already shake the contaminated soil off the roots and replant in fresh, sterilized potting soil. Then do not over-water your plant again or expect a repeat invasion of UFGs (uninvited fungus gnats).

Residence, Sweet Residence/Identity Crisis

Week Four, February 2008

A PLANTLADY'S LIFE IN GEEKATOPIA



Mocha Morning Haiku:

Newspapers scattered
over coffee house tables -
dark freshly brewed words


Invading someone else’s space is not particularly pleasant for me - even when I am paid to do it, which is the case every other week when I care for plants in ten private homes. I know I feel that way in part because I am a product of post-dishwasher modernism where everyone tidies his or her own digs - seriously, if I had a housekeeper I know I would have to clean the house before “the help” showed up on my doorstep! Modern Americans are expected to be self-reliant to a fault. No wonder we are an irritable, sleep-deprived, over-stressed bunch.

Such was not always the case. Within living memory folks had servants to do much of the housework - and not just wealthy folks either. Middle class households commonly hired part-time help. My Irish great-grandmother did laundry for the “ladies up on the hill” in Cincinnati, Ohio - my Swedish grandmother came to the United States as an indentured servant (meaning that she had to work off her passage in the household of her sponsor). In fact I would hazard a guess that most people in this country are descended from people who at one time or another worked in someone else’s house. Immigrants were the first “labor-saving device” and we have always been a nation of immigrants.

Still, the idea of servants feels . . . well, un-American to most of us. Working in someone else’s house implies a class system we champions of equality strive to deny. At the same time, the service sector thrives even in struggling economies. There are plenty of jobs for people who wish to work - people not too filled with false pride to roll up their sleeves, that is. Don’t get me started on work ethic! OK, so service jobs don’t pay as much as your basic software-slog situations (with the exception of highly rewarded Geekatopian housekeepers who can buy and sell most cube-jockeys), the work is steady and plentiful. And has its rewards beyond the bottom line - rewards that revealed themselves gradually to me over the years .

Most plant care companies do not take residential clients - residence accounts are not especially cost effective and there are pesky liability issues (What if you ruin the oak flooring? What if some valuable item goes missing? It can get ugly when things go wrong). I “inherited” my ten residential clients when the company I work for bought a smaller company and “grandfathered” the smaller company’s existing clients.

And let me tell you I wasn’t too thrilled at first. Imagine arriving at a stranger’s home armed with a water bucket, a spare key, an alarm code, and a list of plants with their locations! You feel imaginary eyes following you as you make your way through the darkened house - expect sirens and flashing lights at any moment. No one is home but the dog (which you hope is friendly). You shift the breakfast dishes out of your way to fill your water bucket in the kitchen sink. You step over dirty laundry strewn across the master bathroom floor on your way to the ficus tree (Hey, folks, what happened to the laundry hamper??). You trip on a chew toy in the living room and spend ten minutes mopping up the carpet (complimentary carpet cleaning service?). On the way out the back door, you try to set the alarm - screw it up - the sirens blare like a prison break until you get the code reset properly. You are totally deaf for the next two hours. This is not a fun way to spend your day.

So what about the rewards I mentioned? Over the years I have come to know and appreciate ten very special families - have watched their kids grow up - have shared their anguish during times of illness, as well as their joy at graduations, weddings, births. Sometimes I think I know more about these folks than about my own family and friends. This week one of my families had to put down their beloved elderly cat (a sweet Main Coon cat who liked to follow me around the house as I watered) and I shared their loss as keenly as if it had been my cat. I think there is no greater compliment a person can pay you than allowing you into their private lives - entrusting to you the sanctity of their homes. I am grateful for the opportunity to be a member (in a small way) of their families and provide a service that brings beauty and peace to their homes. That good, warm feeling makes it all worthwhile.

THIS WEEK’S OFFICE PLANT CARE TIP: Identity Crisis

“Well, you know, one of those green leafy things,” was the response I got the other day when I asked a young relative what kind of plant she had in her office - an answer that did not exactly narrow the possibilities. How are you going to know what your plant needs from you if you don’t know what sort of plant you have? Different kinds of plants need different kinds of care - you can’t water your African violet every day any more than you can feed your goldfish a plate of spaghetti.

So, how do you find out what plant you have? If your plant is small, take it to a local garden center for identification. If your plant is too large to pack around, take a leaf. There are also many good houseplant books with pictures that may help. Or try internet resources. One good source is www.initialplants.com - go to the “design guide” - there are pictures of all the more common office plants, complete with their light requirements. Once you know the name of your plant you are well on your way to understanding its care requirements.

Lost and Found/Christmas Cactus

Week Three, February 2008

A PLANTLADY’S LIFE IN GEEKATOPIA

Mountain Haiku:

Swath of stars beneath
the cloud-kissed tree line wink off
as dawn lights North Bend.


Have you ever had someone important vanish from your life? Of course you have. People have a tendency to fall away from our lives like frost crisped leaves off an apple bough - usually through inattention and our own misguided faith that our relationships will never change. Sometimes a catastrophic event separates us but more often than not we set out upon the world in an exciting new direction - we change jobs, buy a new house, start a family, get busy - until one day we hear ourselves muttering that harbinger of encroaching old age: whatever happened to . . .

Yet happy Providence can pull our lost ones back into the sphere of our lives when we least expect it. Here are two “lost and found” stories from the past week:

First story: I arrive at a brand new account ready to introduce myself -the receptionist, seeing me at the door, leaps out of her chair, her eyes round with surprise.
“Plantlady!” she exclaims. “I haven’t seen you in, what, ten years or so?”
“More like fifteen, Carol. As you can see, I work for another plant company these days,” I say. ”When did you leave XYZ Software?”
“A little over five years ago. They went out of business.”
“But I see you are still doing the receptionist thing,” I say.
“Yep. And I see you are still doing the plantlady thing.”
We laugh and enjoy a cheery reunion, marveling at what a small world Geekatopia can be.

Second story: Back in the early 1970s I met Sam in a community college creative writing class - which, if I remember correctly, he signed up for thinking to grab an easy five credits. We were both veterans starting college on the G. I. Bill, a fact that meant we were just slightly older than our classmates, lending us a sense of camaraderie we might not have otherwise shared since we had very little else in common.

I had loved poetry since I heard my first nursery rhyme, writing verse as soon as I could hold a pencil. Sam didn’t know poetry from pot holders that first quarter - the only poet he had read was Robert Service (“The Shooting of Dan McGrew”). But Sam is a fighter and he was determined to ace that course. We met before and after class to talk poetry over coffee. He attacked each assignment as if it were the hill he had chosen to die on. During that time, unnoticed by either one of us, something strange, magical and completely unforeseen happened - Sam became a poet.

I have no idea when Sam realized that poetry would be his life’s work but one thing I know about the man is that he has never done anything by half-measures - he throws his whole heart at the wire every time. He went on to major in poetry, bought a hand crank letter press to print poetry books, moved to a nearly-deserted island in the upper left hand corner of America to write poetry and publish poetry, live and breathe poetry.

It has been nearly a decade since I last saw Sam, though I think of him often. You don’t run across his kind of single-minded dedication, bravery, and passion very often in this wishy-washy world. He has been a huge inspiration to me - and a reproach, since I know I lack the kind of courage it must have taken for him to plunge head first into the deep end.

A few weeks ago Governor Christine Gregoire appointed Sam Green to be Washington State’s first Poet Laureate! He is in town giving readings from his new poetry collection, “The Grace of Necessity” (Carnegie Mellon University Press). Perhaps I shall meet up with him again soon to talk poetry over coffee.


President’s Day Office Plant Care Tip: Christmas Cactus
(Thanks to Joyce Irish for suggesting this plant.)

First, it is not a “cactus” and it blooms at Christmas only if it really wants to impress you. In addition to the familiar pink Christmas cactus, there are Easter and Thanksgiving varieties which have slightly different leaf shapes and flower colors.

This plant is a native of Brazilian forests but has been a favorite house plant since Victorian times, being one of the toughest, most beautiful plants you can share space with. (It is also one of the longest lived - as the family plantlady, I inherited my great-grandmother’s Christmas cactus. It is over a hundred years old - my mother, who is 94, remembers this plant from her childhood. So if you own one, be prepared to pass it down to the kids!)

Watering: About the only surefire way to kill this plant is to keep it soppy wet - though if you think you never have to water it at all think again! If the leaves are shriveling up you are dehydrating your plant. Water thoroughly, then let the soil dry out before watering again.

Getting them to bloom: I have had good results using orchid fertilizer once a month from Spring through Summer. These plants bloom best when they are tightly rooted in the pot so you will rarely have to repot this plant. They like to feel secure. (My great-grandmother’s Christmas cactus has been in the same pot for ten years now.)

Light: For best results keep this plant in bright, filtered sunlight.

Fourteen Canines/Valentine Orchids

Week Two, February 2008

A PLANTLADY’S LIFE IN GEEKATOPIA

This Week’s Poetry: the last four lines from “Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog”” by Lord Byron

“Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on - it honours none you wish to mourn:
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one, - and here he lies.”

Actually there is nothing “simple” about the monument Lord Byron raised to his dog, Boatswain, on the grounds of Newstead Abbey - it towers over the back lawn. Byron surely loved that pooch! By the way, Boatswain is said to haunt the Abbey - there have been many reports of a black and white dog spotted on the grounds and on the roof (!) of the Abbey.

My close friends will be astonished that this week’s post is on the topic of canines - specifically dogs that share my workplace. It is safe to say I am not a “dog person”. It is not that I ever disliked the beasts - I didn’t really know the species well enough to develop an active antipathy (Though I fail to understand how creatures as people-pleasing as they are said to be never figure out that there are some things unacceptable in polite human society - sniffing, drooling, licking - yuk!).

I owned a dog for all of six months back in the ‘70s - before the two of us came to an amicable parting of the ways. Amber moved to a home beside a small lake where she could leap off the dock anytime she wished - I went back to cats, with the knowledge that dogs would never be a part of my life. (She was a full sister to President Ford’s golden retriever - no doubt too grand a personage for the likes of me.).

As it turned out though, I was wrong to believe dogs would play no part in my life. Dogs are everywhere in Geekatopia - in commercial as well as residential settings. In fact, the last few years I have noticed a huge increase in people bringing their dogs to work with them. Currently there are fourteen canines on my route, though most are part-timers I see only once in a while.

At first I didn’t deal well with this canine presence in my life - they made me nervous (not to mention they made my eyes itch and my nose run). They followed me around, licked water out of my watering can, grabbed the lamb’s wool duster out of my hand - and generally “dogged” my heels as I proceeded from plant to plant. When the critters were in evidence I did my job as fast as I could and got out of the accounts double-time.

It puzzled me that the dogs seemed to actually adore me! They greeted me at the door wagging and slobbering as if I rained doggy treats from trembling fingers. What was up with that, I wondered. Over the years my routine compelled me to interact with these alien four-footed clients of mine, learning a few things along the way about them - and about myself. Eventually it dawned on me that I missed them when they were off to the groomers or out for “walkies” with their owners. I had come to look forward to their joyous, unconditional companionship while I worked!

Lord Byron would have smiled at that. I never understood his poem on any level before I was thrown into the world of dogs (not the same as being thrown to the dogs, I will have you know). I thank the lovely canines who grace my work week for their patience with my stupidity and denseness. They have helped me realize that though they are certainly not human they are valuable and interesting individuals in their own right - a concept that is obvious to any dog lover but was a major revelation to me. These days I realize that I don’t have to understand dogs to respect and appreciate them - or for that matter any other creature, non-human and human alike. An important life lesson!

So, I thank the canines of Geekatopia:
Ginger - my supervisor’s Rottweiler/?-combo-plate who sits at my feet during staff meetings and expects organic vegetarian dog biscuits.

Sophie, a liver and white Springer Spaniel, and her pal Belle, a white teacup toy poodle, who “work” at the convalescent center, spreading love to the elderly and ill humans receiving treatment there.

Frankie and Abbie - both golden retrievers but as different as night and day - Frankie being bold, brash and not to be thwarted, Abbie being timid and gentle as an upcountry doe.

Cisco and Oz - huge wooly Bouvier des Flanders that resemble sheep though there is nothing sheepish about either dog. Cisco is a mountain of mush and cuddle. Oz however is frankly a hundred-pound loose cannon I am glad to see crated when I arrive. I doubt he would bite me but if he fell on me . . . well, that is another thing entirely.

Ellie Mae - a Shih-Tzu bundle of fluff and energy who keeps everyone hopping at the Pine Lake Columbia Athletic Club.

And to all the rest of my Maltese-terrier-labradoodle-husky-wirehair-misc coworkers out there: thanks guys!

THIS WEEK’S PLANT CARE TIP: Valentine Orchids

Next week many of you will receive orchid plants as Valentine’s Day gifts. Now what? Do not panic - orchids are as pretty as prom queens but they are not as high-maintenance as you might think. The trick is to understand something of their nature.

There are over 20,000 species of orchids in the world - four times the number of species than mammals and birds put together. Lucky for us only four of those species are routinely kept as houseplants: Cymbidium, Dendrobium, Oncidium, and Phalaenopsis. That improves the odds of success quite a bit, don’t you think?

And chances are if you have received an orchid it is most likely a Phalaenopsis (moth orchid). So, let us just assume that is what you have. This orchid (and most other orchids) is an epiphyte, meaning that in its natural habitat it spends its life clinging to trees. Its roots are adapted to grip bark and absorb any rain water that washes over them.

Notice that your orchid is potted in bark chips or moss, not soil. It does not need potting soil. I think the easiest way to water this plant is to take it to the kitchen sink and spray it thoroughly with luke warm water, making sure to dampen all the air roots hanging out over the side of the pot. Let the plant drain so that it is not sitting in water. As to how often you will water it, since these plants store quite a lot of moisture in their roots and leaves, once a week is generally enough. Remember that water is not food! Buy some orchid fertilizer and use it. Place your plant in a location where it gets medium to bright light most of the day (no hot sunshine however - direct sun will burn it) and it should thrive. When the flowers fall off, cut the bare flower stem back to about six inches in length and it may re-bloom from that point. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Slip Sliding Away

Week One, February 2008


Snow Haiku:

Over the wide calm
moments before dawn - flurries
fly south on the wind.

Monday - An hour before daylight I already know I will not make it to Geekatopia before noon - if then. Even should I manage to get off my snowy hill without sliding into a badly placed power pole, without four-wheel drive things are bound to be interesting on the route. Around here everything shuts down at the first rumor of snow. Snow plows? Sanding? What is that? Why bother with the oily, greasy heavy equipment approach? The way we Geekatopians handle snow is to stay home - which is the primary reason we invented telecommuting. Of course there are some hardy/zany souls who set off over the ice flow to the Cube Farm no matter what the risks to life and limb. But then there are still people who bungee jump.

Tuesday - As quickly as it came, the snow is a slushy memory on the median this morning. Grim-faced commuters clench their steering wheels and glare into a stream of red tail lights as they creep back to work. In their hearts they are little kids reluctantly abandoning snow forts to return to frigid classrooms.

Friday - The week winds down with avalanches in the passes and torrential rain here at sea level. Microsoft is sniffing around Yahoo, Google giggles, gold glitters as the stock market tangos up and down the squeaky floor. It is winter in Geekatopia, it is Super Bowl week - anything can happen.

THIS WEEK’S OFFICE PLANT CARE LOWDOWN:

Five things your plant will hate you for:

1. Using it as a trash can - apple cores, banana peels, rubber bands, chewing gum, razor blades, dried out ball-point pens and used tissues do not make good compost. Garbage is not aesthetically pleasing and it promotes insect infestations, fungus and diseases. Also, if you have a plant service your plant care technician has better things to do than dispose of your rubbish! Improve your shot at the round file.

2. Using it for beverage disposal - Coffee and tea are good for your plant, right? Wrong! That is an urban myth. Forget it (coffee and tea make the soil too acid. Not to mention that the funky dried-up tea bags lend a less-than-professional look). Worse, if you use creamer and/or sugar you will start a stinky science experiment coworkers will not thank you for. Same goes for soft drinks (with additional stickiness factor). And the “last drop of my water bottle”? That practice encourages root rot and fungus gnats. Get thee to a sink.

3. Giving your plant outdoor “vacations” - As well meaning as you may be you are not doing it any favors by exposing it to sunburn, bugs, temperature shock, icy rain, or avian “deposits”. Same goes for using it to prop the door open for the UPS guy. Just don’t. If plants liked roaming around they would have wheels not roots. It takes about six months for them to adjust to any new environment so find them a nice safe place to live out their lives and leave them in peace.

4. The feast and famine treatment - Recognize this scenario? You ignore your plant until it shrivels up like a strip of jerky - then, overcome with guilt, you drown the poor thing. You neglect to feed your plant for months on end - then, thinking to atone for the starvation rations, you pour a double batch of plant food onto your victim, which it cannot assimilate any better than you can digest a piano. Plants require consistent and considerate care - with the emphasis on consistent.
(Note: water is no more “food” for your plant than it is for you. Plants living in pots need fertilizer on a regular basis. Buy some and use it according to the instructions on the package.)

5. “Economizing” - Yes, we are all concerned with conserving energy, but when you place a thousand-dollar palm tree in a windowless conference room and keep the lights off between conferences you are being “penny wise and pound foolish”. Look at it this way: fluorescent lights cost pennies to run as opposed to having to buy another thousand-dollar tree every few months. Consider also that a healthy, happy tree is cleaning the air of nasty chemicals and bad conference room vibes.