Gavin's introduction to his new colleagues, written by his boss

R&D

In this addition of the TrueBlue, R&D is pleased to announce the arrival of Gavin Cornwell as a Research Associate I. In a continuing effort to tip the balance of power in R&D to the Dark Side, we had to go all the way to Dallas, Texas to unearth a suitably qualified chemist. Gavin is no prairie cowpuncher with lone star tattoos though; he hails originally from New Mexico. Interestingly, he's the son of a radio astronomer, which has led some to suggest that Gavin's early life is actually based on the 1982 movie, E.T.

Despite his outwardly quiet and unassuming manner, Gavin is accomplished in Capoeira, a Brazilian martial art characterized by fluid acrobatic play, feints, subterfuge and extensive use of groundwork, as well as sweeps, kicks and headbutts. Not long after starting at KPL, he decided he wasn't getting beat up enough, and also took up Jiu-jitsu. Please don't be confused about the red welts on his neck, they're more likely from his work-out the night before rather than a chance encounter with a Rockville floozy. In two short months, Gavin has already made a significant contribution to R&D, slicing through the fluorophore conjugate project with ninja-like skill and bringing it to gate review a month ahead of schedule. Not only is his scientific sword sharp, but his razor like wit slices even Michael Federman to shreds on a daily basis. To this Gavin, KPL can simply say "Cheers!"-Seth

Finally, We're Permanent Residents!

Tim got the email from our immigration caseworker just last night. After several last minute requests for various missing forms or information, we were approved.

Even when your employer is requesting the permanent residency on your behalf, and the employer is CSIRO, application is still a long and arduous process - especially when you are both over 50 and one of you has a mental health problem and can't work. Tim had to get his heart checked out (I could have TOLD them he has a good heart), but would they listen to me? I had to meet with an independent psychiatrist who could verify that I was an unlikely axe-murderer, and besides, I couldn't possibly be any crazier than the "Chaser" guys are, right?

An applicant also has to prove they aren't currently married to more than one person (assuming they aren't Muslim or Fundamentalist Mormans, I guess). We had to write to the US for our divorce decrees (Tim's one decree and my two - yeah, I have a somewhat crazy past, so deal with it.) You also have to get criminal checks from your State and the US FBI.

So all in all, applying for permanent residency is an expensive and complicated and stressful process and we are really glad it's over with a positive outcome.

We're excited because we love living in Australia, and now it even feels more like "home." I'm glad they didn't deny me because I'm a somewhat crazy old person... although, from what I've heard about certain Australian politicians....

Cheers and G'Day Mate and No Worries!
Judi

Mica (Nee circa 1989-October 11, 2007)

One of my best girlfriends died today. She was 18. I found her at the Humane Society in 1990, and I think she was about one year old. She had been rescued while roaming the mountains east of Albuquerque, New Mexico. I think she must have been hungry when they found her, because I have never known a dog who would eat anything... well, almost anything. She used to leave the sprig of parsley on her plate.

Right after I got Mica, she developed a cough. I was worried that she was going to die and I remember asking the vet to be straight with me. I didn't want to get attached to her if she was just going to up and die right away. It turned out to be kennel cough and she recovered quickly. It was love at first sight anyway, so I had already become attached.

A couple of months later, she and I drove to Arizona and then back to Albuquerque via Bisbee and then Silver City, New Mexico. I had my new Jeep Wrangler at the time, and she used to sleep in the front seat with her head on my lap while I drove. While we drove through Silver City, I thought I was going to lose her. She was suffering from some sort of convulsive/shaking problem. As I debated on whether to find a vet to check her out, it dawned on me that she was terror stricken by the sleeting, thundering, miserable weather we were driving through. That was the first of many times she would have the same reaction. Doggie valium would have been beneficial.

Mica saw me through three hospital admissions. She actually got to visit me when I was in Charter Hospital for the depression, etc. She also kept me company after my hysterectomy, and I was lucky to have Rich Abitz, a friend from work, come by and take Mica and Buggy for a run in the foothills. I was soon on my feet from the operation, and I'm sure the twice daily dog walks hastened my recovery.

I used to go camping with Mica and Buggy (blue heeler), and I was always convinced that if I ran into trouble, that Mica would fight off anyone or thing who had evil intentions. Fortunately, I never had to find out.

In November, 2004, Tim and I decided to move to Australia. Moving to Australia with dogs is no easy task, and it became clear that Mica would not be able to travel due to her age. My friends, Robyn and Tom, offered to take her, while we would bring Sammy and Karma with us to our new home. The grief of leaving Mica behind was overwhelming. I felt such pain for months, that when we finally had to say goodbye to her, it wasn't terrible. She knew what was happening and settled herself on Robyn and Tom's porch. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect home for her.

Since the last time I saw her, the only real trauma came when she was lost for 1-2 days. She had walked 25 miles north along the highway and was rescued by a good-hearted trucker and some wonderful people from Sevilleta National Wildlife Refuge. Robyn didn't tell me about the event until she was safely at home (bless her heart). A part of me was sure she was trying to find her way home (to our old house along her route), and the guilt I felt was miserable. She was an Iditarod Dog champion at heart and body (or would have been if she had been born in Alaska and not New Mexico), so for an old girl, 25 miles was a walk in the park. (Not really. Robyn said she was thirsty and exhausted when they found her.) Many of the dogs in the Iditarod look like Mica, just look here.

I lost a best friend, and I know it will be worse for Robyn and Tom, because they will keep feeling her around their house for awhile. I'm blessed to have had Mica as my friend and companion, and blessed to have Robyn and Tom be the wonderful and generous friends (and adoptive doggie parents) they are.

We were so poor....

On the road again

I'm traveling again after a long hiatus. In the last month, I've been to London, Manchester, and Perth. I was born near London and did my first degree at the University of Manchester so I know them well, although I hadn't visited either for many years. Manchester is much the same mucky, wreckage-of-the-industrial-revolution town, though with a new veneer. Both London and Manchester are very dirty compared to Australia cities - lots of rubbish on the street. One thing that has clearly improved is the food - I went to a number of really good restaurants.

I've not seen much of Perth. I'm staying at Scarborough in the Rendezvous which is a nice hotel. I've been walking on the beach when possible. Here's the view of the Indian Ocean from my window:



Tim

Now for you cat lovers....

Boatie dies trying to dodge sturgeon

I mercilessly make fun of the Australian habit of adding "IE" to almost any word to personalize it, and here I am again.... The title of an Australian newspaper article describes a sad event, and indeed it is. But somehow, turning a "Boater" into a "Boatie"... well, I can't help but find it amusing. For example, "The truckie gave a pressie of sunnies to the postie." I'm surprised they didn't call the sturgeon a "fishie". I give you further proof that Australian slang was developed by three-year-olds.

Of course, being me and after looking at the title a bit, I realized it could be interpreted in a couple of ways (if you take creative license as I do). As you can see, Boatie can be boa-tie. Which brings us to the photo below. (Not my photo, just one courtesy of a Google image search.)

Now this is one helluva "bowtie", er, I mean boa tie. Get it?

Cheers, Judi

PS: Feeling kinda silly this morning!

Should the "Friends" be tried too?

A beautiful little Chinese girl, nicknamed, Pumpkin, was left alone at a train station in Melbourne and soon after her father fled the country. The little girl is now in foster care, and it appears she will be reunited with her mother's family. The police waited two days or so for a search warrant before they would open the boot of the car. The mother had been missing for days. The mother's body was found in the boot of the family car at the family home. She was dead.

But - what if a wounded and/or gagged woman were in the boot of the car while the administrative work was taking place? The woman was dead, but did they know that? While the police were getting a search warrant, couldn't someone have died?

But - the part of the story that truly amazes me is this:

"The cause of death was unclear, but friends of Ms Liu's fugitive husband, Nai Xin Xue, were in little doubt about what had happened. A friend, who wished to remain anonymous, said Xue, 54, had spoken in the past about killing his wife.

"He mentioned it a little bit, but we never knew whether he would do it or not. Nobody could know for sure that he would do it. As a friend, you could only try to give him some help, to make him not think of the bad things. He said he felt no hope and that he felt he was being played by his wife, that she didn't really like him or love him."'

If someone mentioned to me they were thinking of killing someone, I would report them - to someone. I would find help. I would take action. This man has a history of domestic violence with his wife, and no one does anything? By all means... just try to get this guy not to think of bad things and it will be alright.

I hope they catch the guy soon and hang him by his cajones (sp?). And the friends? What is a suitable punishment for inaction, or for that matter, incredible stupidity.

Judi

Three wheels on my wagon

THREE WHEELS ON MY WAGON
(Burt Bacharach / Bob Hilliard)

The New Christy Minstrels

Three wheels on my wagon,
And I’m still rolling along
The Cherokees are chasing me
Arrows fly, right on by
But I’m singing a happy song

I’m singing a higgity, haggity, hoggety, high
Pioneers, they never say die
A mile up the road there’s a hidden cave
And we can watch those Cherokees
Go galloping by

SPOKEN: “George, they’re catching up to us!”
“Get back in the wagon woman!”

Two wheels on my wagon,
And I’m still rolling along
Them Cherokees are after me
Flaming spears, burn my ears
But I’m singing a happy song

I’m singing a higgity, haggity hoggety, high
Pioneers, they never say die
Half a mile up the road there’s a hidden cave
And we can watch those Cherokees
Go galloping by

SPOKEN: “Duh, Paw? Are you sure this is the right road?”
“Will you hush up? You and your maps!”

One wheel on my wagon,
And I’m still rolling along
Them Cherokees after me
I’m all in flames, at the reins
But I’m singing a happy song

I’m singing a higgity, haggity hoggety, high
Pioneers, they never say die
Right around that turn there’s a hidden cave
And we can watch those Cherokees
Go galloping by

SPOKEN: “George? Should I get the bag of beads and trinkets?”
“Woman, I know what I’m doing!”

No wheels on my wagon,
So I’m not rolling along
The Cherokees captured me
They look mad, things look bad
But I’m singing a happy song

SPOKEN: “C’mon all you Cherokees sing along with me!”

Higgity, haggity hoggety, high
Pioneers, they never say die…

I am three! See me on my trike!

This was taken on my third birthday (1958). Things to note:

• Sturdy construction of trike
• Sturdy construction of shoes
• Trike-sweater color coordination
  
• Grey socks, grey underwear
  
• Massive bell
• Embroidery on dungarees nicely moderates the otherwise excessively masculine impression

Cornwell siblings, 1958

My father was an excellent photographer and at a time when we didn't have much money spent quite a bit on cameras and film. His major gift to himself every so often was a better camera. He developed a lot of black and white photographs himself in a makeshift darkroom but also took a lot of color slides. My eldest brother Chris is digitizing the best. Here is one of the four of us. From left to right: Chris, Patrick, Tim (me), and Fran.



This was evidently taken near Fleet, Hampshire, in 1958.

Tim

Vincero! Vincero! Vincero!*

Actually, maybe not.....


*(Translation: I will win! X 3)

Some truth

Starry night

Quite extraordinary!

Tim

Midnight Visitors, well.... 7:00 PM

Call the cuteness police - We had Mom and baby visiting on our balcony last night.
These are brushtail possums. This is the first time I've actually seen a Joey outside the pouch (in person, not just in a photo). Here's a photo of what this little guy was like on July 26.... well, if it's the same little guy.

Karma is becoming insistent on dragging me to the dog park, so I'll cut this short.

Cheers!
Judi

Oh, funny funny funny

Domestic Goddess, That's Me OK

Anyone who knows me would say that "Domestic Goddess" is not, well, me. Housework isn't my favorite thing to do, and I am clutter challenged. I am trying hard to improve my cleaning and decluttering skills, and with so many resources on the internet, how can I fail? There is http://unclutterer.com on my newsreader, and I faithfully watch the Canadian TV Show, Neat. So what have I learned. Lots. Am I improving? Everyone has to start somewhere.

So I have my own little segment of cleaning wisdom I'm going to pass along to you. I invented this myself, so if anyone else uses my "secret" formula, then I get all rights for it. I developed the secret recipe, because I don't like the smell of vinegar - who does? The secret recipe is for homemade, eco-friendly window washing liquid. Ready?

Take a spray bottle (I always recycle my old ones and use them until they die.). So assume you have an empty spray bottle the size of a Windex Bottle. Put in about 1/4 cup of white or cleaning vinegar, fill the bottle with water, and the secret ingredient..... ta dah.... add about 1/2 capful of Eucalyptus Oil. Shake it up Baby! Get your trusty microfibre rag out (I hate using paper towels.), spray your mixture on the window to be washed, and rub. It's best to use a second rag to dry. Not only does this mixture smell good and fresh, but it works incredibly well - leaves the window shiny, streak-free - and best of all, it's fast and easy. I am actually enjoying washing windows now, go figure...

So you heard it here first, from the Domestic Goddess in Training....

Cheers, Judi

Joey Possum, etc.

So, I can't seem to get it right. Last Saturday night, we went to see and hear the John Butler Trio, not the John Bishop Trio like I wrote in my last post. Do you remember Joey Bishop, US comedian, from days of yore? Somehow I have the "JB" stuck in my brain, and so poor John Butler is misrepresented as Joey... well, Bishop. So let me tell you about the chubby possum who has been visiting us lately with her little Joey in the pouch.........

Stick a basketball between your legs... now try running on a narrow railing with your mouth full. That's our Momma Possum - delicate and light footed, she ain't. I really hope she doesn't meet the same fate as the poor popped possum I found a few weeks ago.

Here's one little Joey getting a ride.

With love, Judi

Catching Up....

I just received an email from an old friend and neighbor (from home town Weston, Mass. USA). She saw our blog mentioned on the WHS alumni website and kindly sent an e-hello. This surprise contact served to remind me that a blog is a way to stay in touch or get in touch, and hence, worthwhile to keep up on a more timely basis.

News: As you know, Gavin graduated UTD with flying colors, and has already accepted his first "real job!" He's moving to outside of Washington, DC (Gaithersburg, Maryland), and will be an associate chemist. Moving to the east coast after growing up in New Mexico and living in Dallas, Texas, ought to be eye-opening. I think Zoe is going to join him for the ride east which should make for a fun trip, especially if they take some time to check out the country on the way.

Sad news: A couple of weeks ago as I was pulling out of my driveway, I noticed a dead animal on the grass near the road. Sadly, it was a dead possum. More sadly, it was a mama possum. I have been told to look inside a "dead" possum's pouch if it's a female, to check for offspring, and this girl had a dead baby. My friend, Jenny, said that a baby possum with no hair is called a "pinky." If they are more developed they would be called a "joey." This baby was a pinky, but fully formed. It was fascinating to be able to look into a pouch like this, but it was also upsetting. I later called Tim in tears. I think the possum, a brushtail, must have been hit by a car. It had a ridged imprint along the fur on it's side, but no other signs of trauma.

Tim and I will be going to hear the John Bishop Trio on Saturday night. We're looking forward to it. They have a great sound that you just have to move to.

I just got involved with a new "cause." It's called Barking Mad. Barking Mad is an organization that advocates for "Access Rights" for dog owners. Australian's love affair with dogs is only surpassed by the US. Even the UK comes in third! However, there are very few places in Australia where you can take your dog without being fined. Barking Mad is trying to get councils to allow dogs on more beaches... anywhere. I'll keep you informed on how we do, but the "packleader" is originally from the US and I'll tell you.... "I wouldn't want to get in her way!" This girl gets things done!

With love, Judi

Goosebump Producers

Sometimes incredibly beautiful and touching things come from unlikely sources. Listen to the salesman and Connie and watch the reactions of the audience. They both gave me goosebumps.