Monthly Archives: September 2014

work husband

I’ve been thinking about this trending (but slightly odious to me) designation for a friend at work who is your closest companion, but not in an intimate way: your work spouse.

And then I was thinking more largely about how we re-create family dynamics in the office, with parental types, bratty siblings and squabbling around the conference room tables.

And then I saw this on the work fridge this morning and it made me laugh. Someone left an open container of some noodle-based food complete with a spoon



stuck in it. My real (not work) husband does this with pots of spaghetti, which he shoves into the fridge without first decanting into a Tupperware, without first covering the pot, without first removing the serving utensil, which gets sauce congealed on it, unpleasantly.

When I said something about this to him, he reacted unpleasantly, rather like this mean-faced lady saying Wat.

When I should be saying, “wat,” right? But he’s saying “wat?” And the spaghetti is congealing in my fridges at home and at work, which is just unpleasantness all around, isn’t it?


hope to die

Heard someone say “cross my heart and hope to die” this morning, as a way of making a promise sound more, well, promissory.



I remember saying this as a kid too, adding: “stick a needle in my eye.”

To which I must ask: What? What?

Perhaps this is kind of like those nursery rhymes born of the plague years that are unnecessarily grim (“ashes, ashes, we all fall down”) but, nowadays, “hoping to die” sounds like a cry for help, no?



Thinking about how, as we move through life, we look for support wherever we can find it.

Even at derelict pony tracks.

Who's holding whom?

Who’s holding whom?

As above, so below

Whenever I am feeling confused about things, I pay special attention to my horoscope and I can almost always find a way to fit (or force fit) the stars as an explanation for what’s going on.

This week a “blind spot” is forecast, due to an awkward positioning — called a quinqunx, there’s that word again! — of the sun and Uranus. I am to “look out for unexpected conflict between health/work/duty issues and the opinions/role/needs of an individual, yours or someone else’s.” OK.

But then an alignment that bodes well for closures, my favorite thing. Closures, so hard to come by, so it’s nice when the stars do the hard work for us: “It doesn’t matter whether it’s wrapping up jobs, doing the things you’ve been putting off (Saturn is lord of time) or getting out of the wrong relationship. In any relationship that has been causing strife this is your chance to put things on a healthier footing.” OK.

I have been thinking about a conflict that may occur over the weekend and here’s what I can expect, star-wise: “Clock anyone you meet on Saturday night or over the rest of the weekend as Mars gets into his stride in this big thinking sign, they could make life very interesting or maybe they’ll have things to teach you. Listen out for new opportunities of any kind too but especially those linked to travel and higher education. Mars in Sagittarius is ultimately a seeker and, wherever you need a bigger picture perspective, he will point the way towards those wider horizons.” OK! 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Fast away the summer passes and even now, just a few days into September, the mornings are darker, the air drier, the maples show their first fan of red leaves. 

An energizing time of year. But melancholy too, with reminders like this one that “this same flower that smiles to-day, to-morrow will be dying.”

A friend signed off an email to me with “rosebuds,” which prompted me to look up the poem. Hadn’t remembered it’s actually an admonition to fair young ladies to find a man before they fade. Per the title: To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time.   

I prefer to think of it as attached to the seasons, otherwise it’s just kinda mean.