Author: CtrlAltTabby

Well, shit… or medical procedures for the aging.

As I age, my doctor has begun throwing about terms like colonoscopy and shingles vaccine. The colonoscopy discussion started a couple years ago, before the recommended age for them was lowered, and we agreed I’d do take home tests until I hit the half century mark. The take home alternates to colonoscopies have, I’m sure, more formal names, but are commonly referred to as “shit kits.” I would, my doctor informed me, be sending a sample bowel movement to a laboratory. It’s only getting more detailed from here, so feel free to quit and come back next week for less stinky content.

I was surprised at how small the package was the first time I brought one of the kits home. As it turns out, that particular kit style only wants a small sample… but across multiple days. They provided some sturdy paper to place under yourself (held in place by the toilet seat), wooden sticks to scrape off a sample, and three foldable sample cards which get folded back to closed after you let the sample dry. Ewww, right? An important note is that you need to write your personal information and date on the outside of each card, preferably before adding the sample. Once all three samples have been collected and dried, you drop them into the provided plastic envelope, seal it, slap a stamp on it, and put it with the outgoing mail.

An open box with an open plastic bag inside containing a couple sealed containers with liquid, a sealed empty container, and a toilet seat insert.

This year’s kit is fancier, a bit closer to what I originally expected – and the test results are supposed to be good for three years. It’s shipped from the testing company and the same box is used to return the sample. There’s a zipped bag inside the box, along with a toilet seat insert, a sealed container for the sample (that fits into the seat insert), a test tube with some liquid in it, and another container with liquid that will be added to the sample. Plus two instruction books: the big one, which includes step-by-step instructions with illustrations (in English & Spanish) and the little one that tells you how to ship the kit back.

The basic process is similar to the previous years: poop, catch it, package it up. Despite the bigger packaging, it’s actually simpler because it’s a single day’s sample and it gets sealed up immediately instead of dried. The little test tube has a stick that comes out and gets a small sample before the other container of liquid gets poured into the main container, and the instructions are clear as to the order everything needs to happen in. Once re-bundled, the company provides a link to schedule the package pick-up, so you don’t even need to leave your house.

If you’re approaching an appropriate age, consider asking your doctor about a take home kit to check for colon cancer. According to the American Cancer Society, there’s been an increase in colon cancer rates, particularly in younger adults, so every opportunity you have for early detection is a good idea.

Learn your house’s normal

“Merry Christmas!” said the pipe under my sink. “I’m all rusty and don’t feel like holding water in anymore. Were you planning to clean the kitchen floor on Christmas Day?”

Pipe under my kitchen sink clearly showing some rust.

So, yeah, that happened. I had just finished washing dishes after making eggnog pancakes and a side of bacon for Christmas morning when I realized I could still hear water running, other than the cats’ water fountain in the room. I doublechecked that I hadn’t somehow started the dishwasher, then opened the cabinet doors to look under the sink. That resulted in water spurting at a diagonal across the room while I scrambled to pull things out from under the sink – in addition to obvious thinks like the dishwasher soap (which really shouldn’t get wet until you’re ready to use it!), our collection of Ziploc bags in their now-slightly soggy boxes were under there.

Then I tried turning every valve I found under the sink, hoping one of them would actually affect the water pressure. No luck. I wrapped a rag around the leak, preventing it from leaving the cabinet at least, and looked behind the pipe, just in case. I vaguely remembered one of the workers over the summer – I think the one who replaced our water softener – showing me the water shut-off for the entire house. That worked… except I didn’t realize it because there was still water in the pipes that needed to be drained. It took a couple emergency runs from family members before I realized the draining part. The photo above was taken at a point when the water was off and drained. The actual fix took a professional about 30 minutes the next day.

But “my pipe rusted through and leaked” isn’t the title of this post. I noticed the problem as soon as it started because I know what the normal house sounds are. Right now, I can hear the cats’ fountain, the hum from the vents, and the sounds of the furnace running in the garage (it’s just through the wall I’m facing). Two weeks ago, when a light switch broke, I knew that switching off the breaker that affected part of that switch (it’s a weird kitchen & garage switch) would turn off all of the kitchen lights, even though the kitchen is on two different breakers and some of the lights are on the other side of the room. That’s part of our house’s “normal.”

It’s similar to identifying a problem with your car because it doesn’t sound or feel right… normal is what you’re used to, and it can help you identify problems before they become worse. Particularly with a house, it will take a bit of time to identify what counts as normal, but it’s worth learning. If I hadn’t noticed the problem as soon as it happened, I would have been dealing with a lot more water where it didn’t belong. For those times when something isn’t normal, it’s useful to have information handy for companies that handle plumbing, appliance, and electrical problems, and a general handyman, so you’re ready for any issue that arises.

Enjoyable Advent Calendars

An enjoyable aspect as we approach Christmas – whether you celebrate the holiday or not – is the proliferation of Advent Calendars that are available. Over the years, we’ve had pop-up penguins from Lovepop, a homemade musical calendar, and somewhere (in the attic?) we have a Santa that gradually drops down the chimney as the month progresses. There are multiple Lego Advent Calendars available, catering to a variety of fandoms, including the Marvel one in our living room. There’s the fun of a daily surprise that comes with the commercial Advent Calendars, knowing the theme with the thrill of each day being a little different. If you want to see some great reactions to daily surprises, check out this Instagram account; he’s opening three calendars every day.

Several years ago, I learned of the existence of a “whiskey Advent calendar.” But there was a catch… it was available from a shop in the United Kingdom, and the shipping to the United States was half again the price of the calendar. (If I remember right, the calendar was $200 and shipping $100.) I wrote it off as beyond what I wanted to spend. A fabulous co-worker made me a whiskey basket that year with a sipping glass and a handful of whiskey miniatures curated from a personal collection. Marinda and I discussed the possibility of purchasing a large number of mini-bottles and creating our own whiskey Advent calendar for our local whiskey-loving friends. But life happened, and we never got around to it.

A couple years ago, I learned that Flaviar.com had launched a Whiskey Advent Calendar within the United States. I hesitated initially – I think my timing was bad the first year, discovering it existed a little too late. Last year, I asked my mother to buy it for me, and due to the supply chain issues, it arrived a few days into December (they were quite apologetic about that), and it took me until February to finish it.

This year, Flaviar shipped the calendar super early – I think I received mine in October – and I’ve been making an effort to open each day in December and try my new whiskey. To keep myself on track, I’ve been posting to TikTok each day as I try them. And delightfully, most of the included whiskeys are new to me. Like Pokémon, I know I can’t catch (or try) every one out there, but I can certainly put in a good effort.

Washing dishes

Washing dishes is a chore many of us bemoan, while also taking for granted our access to a dishwasher. That’s all fine and dandy until your dishwasher decides to extend its services to cleaning the floor by leaking out the bottom. It is, of course, possible to wash all dishes by hand, but then I’d just have wasted space under the counter where the dishwasher is supposed to be. And to be honest, there are days when that extra energy needs to be expended elsewhere. (We never leave dishes sitting, as the cats would insist on helping us with the cleaning process.)

The open dishwasher with the top two racks (there's a silverware rack!) partially pulled out, with Arwen, a white and black cat, looking in.

The most important thing about replacing an appliance is making sure you match – or at least, don’t exceed – the dimensions where it needs to go. It took me a little while of looking through the dishwasher listings to realize that a listing for 24 inches wide is apparently referencing the door width; the inset part (which is what I measured first) is of necessity slightly smaller than that. That realization made shopping so much easier, I was trying to figure out why ours was a non-standard size.

You may recall that last year, we had to replace the refrigerator (for similar reasons: that freezer leaked onto the floor). When selecting a new dishwasher, I decided it would make sense to match the brand and color, as they’re placed opposite to each other in the kitchen. Like with the fridge, I opted to put my Costco membership to good use, knowing they offer high quality products with reliable delivery and haul-away of the old appliances. And without the supply chain issues that frustrated the country last year, the delivery was about a week after I placed the order.

And now you’re on a jury.

As the prosecution reminded – and verified – with each potential juror during the panel process, this isn’t like the media portrays a trial. To be fair, the jury part may be – that’s not usually the focus – but the trial I sat through as a juror was devoid of the theatrics you expect to see on screen.

As each group of four was empaneled, they were sent to the jury deliberation room, and given a notebook and pen for use during the trial. (All notes are disposed of afterwards.) I was near the end of the selection process, so only sat for a short while in the deliberation room while the two alternates were selected. Except for during deliberation, the time in the deliberation room was mostly sit and wait, wondering when we’d be summoned back to the courtroom.

The trial process started as soon as the entire jury was selected, with the bailiff instructing us on the process: we lined up in a particular order based on when in the process we were selected, written on the white board for the first couple days; the bailiff asked everyone to stand while the jury entered; the back row of the jury box entered first and everyone remained standing until the bailiff announced that everyone could sit down. (Amusingly, he consistently made that announcement when the front row alternate had just set foot in the jury box; she usually wasn’t in front of her chair yet.)

Before the trial started and at the end of each day, the judge told the jury not to seek out any information relating to this trial online or in the news. Each morning, he verified that none of us had deliberately or accidentally been exposed to related information. This is an important point in each trial, as the jury’s decision is based only on the evidence presented by the prosecution and defense.

The prosecution and then the defense presented their opening statements to the jury, then rolled right into calling the prosecution’s witnesses. It’s important to note that the opening and closing statements do not constitute evidence; these are the prosecution and defense attorneys’ summaries and opinions. I think this is one of the key spots that media highlights in on screen trials, for the impassioned presentation, even though it’s less important that the witness testimony.

At the end of each day, the judge stopped the questioning and released everyone with a specific time to return the next morning. In the deliberation room, the bailiff then clarified that we should arrive 30 minutes prior to that, gathering in the jury room so we could come upstairs, set our personal belongings in the deliberation room, and reclaim our notepads (they never leave the building). We were escorted outside by an officer to avoid any accidental interactions with the defendant, witnesses, or the attorneys.

When we arrived on the second day, we were given a sheet to submit our lunch order; lunches would be served in the jury (as opposed to the deliberation) room each day unless we were deliberating at lunch time. For our trial, the prosecution witnesses were called on the second day, with the defense attorney cross-examining each one as needed, and the prosecution asking follow-up questions. The defense witnesses were called on the morning of the third day, reversing the process with the prosecution cross-examining. That afternoon, rebuttal witnesses were called and questioned, again with the prosecution calling their witnesses first.

On the fourth and final days, the jury walked into a full courtroom – all of the witnesses were now allowed in the audience – and heard the closing statements. We first listened to one of the prosecuting attorneys, who walked through the jury instructions, spelling out each charge and emphasizing which part of the testimony supported that charge. The defense attorney presented his closing statement, followed by a rebuttal closing statement from the other prosecuting attorney. After additional instructions from the judge (among other things, reminding us that opening and closing statements were opinion rather than evidence) and the swearing in of our bailiff, we adjourned to the deliberation room and began discussing the details – the first time we were allowed to talk about it to anyone, even among the jury – while waiting for our lunch. Our first order of business was to turn in all of our devices – our phones were allowed in the deliberation room during breaks, but not during the actual deliberation process. Then we needed to select a foreperson, who got to sort through the jury instructions and organize our deliberation process.

One interesting aspect of the jury process is that the jury is presented with two sheets of paper for each charge: one that specifies “guilty” and one “not guilty”. It’s fancier than that, of course, something like “We the jury find the defendant guilty/not guilty of [insert charge here]”, with a specific line for the foreperson to sign and lines for the other eleven jurors’ signatures.

We did not rush our process. Using the whiteboard and some paper taped to the wall (it was a small whiteboard), we summarized overall impressions of each witness and their reliability before we ever discussed the charges. We started with anonymous voting on sets of charges (there were appropriate groupings that made sense) – a guilty/not guilty vote written on a piece of paper, then read out all together to see if there were any differing opinions. We discussed the differing opinions at length, clarifying questions from our notes, then ended up tabling the issue and coming back to that particular set of charges near the end. After the first discussion, we found we were all willing to voice our opinions in that particular group and dispensed with the slower anonymous method. Each juror signed each appropriate verdict sheet for every charges as we reached a consensus on them.

Eventually we reached a consensus on all of the charges and summoned the bailiff by turning the button near the door. The bailiff then notified the judge, who summoned everyone back to the courtroom before admitting the jury. The foreperson carried the envelope with the signed and unsigned sheets with the charges. When requested by the judge, the foreperson handed that envelope to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge. The judge reviewed the sheets, did some rearranging, then handed them to the clerk to read each signed verdict sheet out loud. After all of the sheets were read, at the defense attorney’s request, the jury was polled – calling out each juror number – to confirm that we each agreed with the reported verdict.

And then we were done. The bailiff escorted the jury back to the deliberation room, we piled any pages that had been used in the notepads for their destruction, and waited while our electronic devices were retrieved. We were again escorted outside by an officer, released from further jury duty obligations for at least a year.

An overview on selecting a jury

I have mentioned jury duty before in passing as our other civic responsibility beyond voting and paying taxes. Oddly, until last week, I had never had the opportunity to participate in the process. I received a jury summons in college that required me to call in twice a day to see if I needed to show up, and then released at the end of the week without putting in an appearance. Near the beginning of 2020, I received a letter from the county asking to verify my eligibility… and then the rest of 2020 happened.

Earlier this year, I received an eligibility verification letter again and completed the survey for the county. I then received a summons for the first week of August, filled in a survey about myself (including experience with lawyers and law enforcement) but was dismissed on the preceding Friday. A couple weeks later, I received another eligibility notice, which included a question as to the best month for my schedule. I listed November, since my travel/convention schedule is usually light this time of year. Not surprisingly, I received a summons to appear in November, and on the preceding Friday (and Saturday and Sunday), an email hit my inbox saying I needed to appear at the courthouse. (Interestingly, it was a different courthouse than my previous summons.)

Bright and early last Monday morning, I gathered my packed lunch and reading material and headed in. I went through what most travelers would consider light security – I was allowed to take my water bottle in and keep my shoes on. A bailiff directed me to the jury room, where I stood in line to have my name highlighted on a list and my juror number pointed out to me, then in the next line to scan the barcode on my actual summons and provide me with a debit card for the ten dollars a day plus mileage that my county pays. I stood in a third line for general instructions, which was primarily where the bathrooms, coffee, and donuts were located, and found a comfortable seat. Once everyone was checked in – about an hour after the time we were scheduled to arrive – a series of instructional videos ran explaining the overall process. One of the bailiffs mentioned that they were supposed to seat four juries that day – those can be either 6- or 12-person juries – so they did expect to call a good chunk of the people in the room.

I was in the second group called. Like the summons, this is randomized – the bailiff read off a sorted list of thirty-five juror numbers (the high end of the numbers was close to 200) and we assembled near the assigned bailiff who led us to the appropriate courtroom. We were reminded to turn off any electronics before entering the courtroom, and filed in to sit in the first four rows of the audience benches, which look like and are as comfortable as old-style church pews.

The judge walked through some instructions and introductory questions for the potential jurors – making sure everyone was over eighteen and could understand English – and explained the expected duration of the trial before reading the charges, the list of witnesses, the defendant’s, and the attorneys’ names. He (in this case) then asked people to raise their hand if they had an affirmative answer to any of the necessary questions, which were effectively:
1) Do you have a reason to be biased for or against the defendant for these particular charges?
2) Do you have any personal or work obligations that would prevent you from serving on this jury (for the next four days)?
3) Do you know the defendant, any of the witnesses, or any of the attorneys?

All of the people who answered affirmatively then had to give brief explanations for their answers; after a brief break, they were all dismissed from the jury pool for this trial. After that, a randomized group of four potential jurors were summoned to the jury box and asked questions by both the prosecution and defense attorneys about their survey answers and whether they knew anyone who had experienced or been accused of the particular charges this trial was about.

While dismissals at this point were unexplained, the defense appeared to dismiss anyone who had personal experience or close friends/relatives who had experience with the charges (which is logical); the prosecution dismissed one person who had a friend accused on similar charges. There were also some dismissals that seemed related to regular exposure to certain groups of people, particularly lawyers and law enforcement. When someone was dismissed, another random number was called and added to the panel until a group of four was accepted by both the prosecution and defense. At that point, they were ushered by the bailiff to the jury deliberation room and another group of four were called up to the jury box. This process continued until a dozen jurors and two alternates were selected.

I won’t discuss the particulars of the case – that’s better suited for the courtroom and the jury deliberation room – but I will discuss the trial process from a juror’s perspective next week.

A handful of book recommendations

I’ve been participating in Goodreads’s reading challenge for a few years now. My goal isn’t overly ambitious (for me), I’m aiming to average one book a week. I’m ahead for the year, since I’m at 48 of 52 books at the moment, and that may be 49 by tomorrow.

I had a gap last month between review books and picked through some books that had already been added to my Kindle at some nebulous point in the past, so this short list of recent recommendations may include both older books and the occasional something that’s not science fiction or fantasy. My criteria for this list is books I’ve read since August that I gave a 5-star rating on Goodreads to.

American War by Omar El Akkad
This one’s historical fiction about a second American Civil War. What makes it creepy – and effective – is that it shows how the protagonist is radicalized through deliberate decisions made by her mentor.

Consort of Fire by Kit Rocha
An ancient dragon god marries the mortal ruler’s heir every century, and finally meets his match. But she’s adopted and considered so disposable that the ruler had her cursed unless she and her handmaid assassinate the Dragon. This steamy fantasy story does an amazing job at world- and character-building.

Daughters of the Night Sky by Aimie K. Runyan
Historical fiction about the Soviet “Night Witches” who terrorized Germany during World War II.  I probably picked it up because of Cheshire Moon’s song, Nachthexen. (https://cheshiremoon.bandcamp.com/track/nachthexen-2)

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire
This is the first of McGuire’s Wayward Children series, and having read it, I wonder how I had somehow bypassed her work until this point, especially knowing so many of my friends are fans.  I will definitely be partaking of more of her delightful writing.

Goodnight, Sweet Princess by Jason Janes
This novella was published by a friend in 2015. The compressed murder mystery takes place at a Renaissance Faire which Chicago area fans will almost certainly equate with Bristol. 

The Memories Between Us by Karen Peck
Another book written by a friend, this is a time travel and parallel universes romance as the protagonist desperately searches for a way to re-encounter his deceased wife.  

The Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans
I was delighted with the first book in The Burnished City series, Notorious Sorcerer, when I read it last year, and was equally excited about the sequel. 

The Star-Crossed Pelican by Laura Ruth Loomis
This hilarious book takes science fiction lightly with an oversized heap of drama including a “peace-keeping” weapon that forces people to relive their most embarrassing moments. 

Remembering Marinda

Our friend Marinda recently lost her battle with cancer and I want to reflect on some of the memories we had together over the years. Our friendship spanned half her lifetime (though not quite half of mine). We met at Capricon, her first time attending a Chicagoland convention and my second year at that particular one. (She went on to chair that Capricon a few years ago.) We hit it off immediately, bonding over gaming, our niblings (we each only had one niece or nephew at the time), and our black cats.

When we met, she did demos or organized tournaments for one gaming company; we both soon joined the demo team for Steve Jackson Games, teaching many people the joys of Munchkin, Chez Geek, and other games. We were fixtures of the daytime gaming room at many local conventions, leaving our evening hours open to attend the parties. When I decided to hold my bachelorette party at a Capricon, she coordinated with the convention to book a room, and she helped me organize my first baby shower (the friends rather than family one) at a DucKon. She was the obvious choice to be my daughter’s godmother, and the only person other than my ex-husband and myself who was told the probable gender of the child before her birth.

Over the years, Marinda volunteered or worked for several well-known companies in the gaming industry, including her stint with True Dungeon that resulted in a middle-of-the-night text message to me saying “I killed Wil Wheaton!” (He mentioned it here.) The funny thing is she wasn’t a Trekkie and barely knew who he was at that point, but knew that I was a fan. She recruited me as her gaming co-chair for the now defunct To Be Continued convention, where we added “gaming with the guests” our second year, selecting games appropriate for the roles the media guests were known for. I talked her into co-chairing Dorkstock the year my daughter was born, knowing I’d need the extra pair of hands with an infant in tow.

We were founding members of The Lady Gamer, a fan-run webzine, and attended the GAMA Trade Show with press badges together in 2004. (All of the content we produced from 2004-2007 is still available.) That year, we also organized a scavenger hunt of GenCon’s dealer’s hall (under the Fantasy Aspirations banner) with prizes from an assortment of vendors; Marinda was the primary contact for the vendors, helping them develop appropriate clues for the hunt.

I’ve only made it to GenCon a couple times since my daughter was born, each while Marinda was volunteering or working for Mayfair Games. She recruited my daughter to pull winning raffle tickets; every player got one for every demo they played at the company’s booth, giving them the opportunity to win… games! She took her goddaughter to Little Wars one year, a convention I’ve never managed to get to.

We saw Marinda outside conventions too, of course. There was a year when I was working part-time from home and she was renting an apartment a couple miles from our house when we’d randomly schedule lunches. She had a key to our house, and I knew if someone randomly let themselves in during my work day, it was her. When I bought this house, she extended her visit by a couple days and supervised an electrician doing some rewiring while I was at work. She’d pretty much help anyone who needed it, even when it was physical labor that her illnesses, including cancer these last couple years, should have prevented her from doing.

She is everywhere around us. I went to Walgreens the other day and realized we had stopped at that McDonald’s across the street once, after exploring an area park for Pokemon Go (me) and Ingress (her). On my drive home, I passed a forest preserve that we had ventured into for similar reasons (where a guy passing on a bike asked if my daughter and I were twins), and the restaurant, Harner’s Bakery, where we took her to lunch when she visited in June before dropping her off at the nearby Metra station.

There are cat toys she brought over scattered about – one in particular that was rejected by her cat, Kelethin, and excitedly received by all four cats here. There are toys and board games she gifted us, yarn choices that she weighed in on for my never-ending crochet projects, and postcards from her travels reminding us that friendship is not limited by geography.

She’s in my kitchen every time I make an omelet, which she loved, joining the memories of my father who taught me how to make them. The brands of pizza sauce and mustard, carefully selected to avoid her pepper allergy (hint: paprika is made from peppers, and frequently disguised as “spices” on food labels) remind me of her. She recommended our rice cooker, with a locking lid, for slow cooking after Arwen discovered she could open our Crockpot. There’s a slight smile when I put the cast iron pan into the microwave – to keep it safe from cats while cooking in the oven – remembering Marinda’s freaked out expression the first time she saw me do that.

Marinda is gone now, her internment is this weekend. Our memories of her live on.