Patterns and compromises

I have come to a compromise with my cat about the proper use of a lap when seated on a recliner chair. My theory is that it's for a laptop computer. She disagrees. So when I was perusing the Fry's insert on Friday and spotted an on-sale cantilevered computer tray I capitulated. The computer is now a little on the high side for comfort, but I no longer have to keep shoving the cat off my hands as I type.

I validated the altered pants pattern on a pair of shorts yesterday but haven't started cutting out the pants fabric yet. The living room is still a bit of a mess what with the sifting and sorting process. It has occurred to me that I could greatly reduce the volume of the fur stash by picking the items apart and discarding the coat-guts that I won't be using. That would free up a bin or two. And there are a couple of bundles of cut-out and semi-assembled medieval garments that never went forward because I decided I didn't like them for me, that could be passed on if completed. (Or maybe passed on semi-completed, but that's less likely.)

I did go out and see Becoming Jane, which I'd tried to see on Friday (but got off on the timing) and then had as a fallback on Saturday in case we didn't make the timing for Last Legion. It was a pleasant enough costume flick with excellent visuals, but unsatisfying in some ways. I guess I can understand that some people figure a brilliant, talented, and personable young woman who doesn't marry -- especially one who wrote so ably about affairs of the heart -- must have suffered some tragic heartbreak to turn her to a single path. (Stephanie Barron, in her "Jane Austen mysteries" has taken a similar tack, giving Jane a hopeless romance with a mysterious adventurer.) But I can't help taking it as an insult to all the women across time who simply decided they didn't need marriage to live a complete life.

I spent my lunch hour today talking to the bank about an equity line of credit -- partly with the painting job in mind but partly with the thought that it would be useful to have it set up in case ... well, in case. I'd only meant to drop by and make an appointment, but the person in charge of that topic was available so we got down to specifics. I think he was delighted to be dealing with someone who actually wanted to know all the details about how the process worked -- what the benefits were and where the pitfalls were -- although he didn't quite get the notion that I only wanted to spread out the cost a bit, not to artificially defer it. I'll be going in again tomorrow with a couple of supporting documents and I'll get a much more specific notion of the pluses and minuses of that option so I can compare it with my other option(s).

An Allegory of Inspection

This is an allegory of the behind-the-scenes goings on when the FDA inspects a manufacturing facility. This is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent actual persons or events.

At some point during the late afternoon, the FDA inspector sneezes. The Attentive Director-Level Person thinks, Oh, dear -- I hope she's not coming down with a cold. Vitamin C is good for preventing colds. I'll make sure we have some available just in case she asks for it. And the ADLP slips out of the inspector's temporary office, next door to the war room and mutters to the Harried Manager-Level Information Organizer, "Vitamin C -- see what you can do," before disappearing back to the inspector's side.

The HMLIO stares at the closing door in dismay then turns to three gofers standing ready and dispatches contingency instructions. The first gofer heads off to the company store with a purchase order. But -- alas! -- the store clerk points out that we don't actually manufacture plain vitamin C tablets, only multi-vitamins. The gofer leaves the P.O. with the clerk (who assembles one bottle each of the various multi-vitamin options that include C) and heads off to the local grocery store to pick up a bottle of chewable C tablets.

But the second gofer .... The second gofer is sent to the company cafeteria and tells the catering manager, "FDA business -- orange juice," then rushes off-shift. The catering manager tears his hair a little, then puts together an itemized inventory of all orange juice on the premises, with expiration dates specified.

The third gofer talks to the warehouse manager, who then stays on-site until 10pm putting together an exhaustive package of all purchases of reagent-grade ascorbic acid used in production, complete with QC testing records.

The results of all three quests are assembled the next morning in the war room, ready to be pulled out on cue like a rabbit from a hat. The inspector arrives and as she opens her briefcase and settles in for the morning she turns to the Attentive Director-Level Person and says, "The flowers on the side table are very elegant, but I wonder if we could move them somewhere else? I seem to have an allergy to something in the arrangement." She sneezes briefly. The ADLP hands her a box of tissues and then takes the vase of flowers out of the room.