BTE

I worked in the financial industry for 25 years before switching to IT. Some of the lingo still sticks. For instance, when a company posts exceptionally good earnings or earnings that aren’t as bad as anticipated they are said to be BTE or Better Than Expected. That’s a great description of how my photos did at the flower show this year.

I entered four photos instead of my usual two. The woman who was running the competition urged me to enter to the Computer Enhanced division. After playing around with my antique version of PhotoShop, I registered for both digital and computer enhanced.

I was the last to sign in my photos yesterday so I had a chance to see everyone else’s work. I almost turned around and went home. The competition was just incredible. So professional. In comparison, my photos looked like they were taken by a child. Ditto my computer enhanced entries. They looked primitive compared to the dramatic effects of the other entries.

The woman running the competition and another photographer urged me to enter my photos. Figuring that the worst that could happen was “Honorable Mention”, the equivalent of “thanks for participating, better luck next time”, I signed in my entries and headed home to watch the Olympics.

This afternoon, before heading over to the Rutgers Gardens booth for my afternoon shift, I stopped by the photo exhibit. Here’s what I found:

Honorable Mention - Digital Color

Honorable Mention - Digital B&W

Third Place - Computer Enhanced Color

First Place - Computer Enhanced B&W

BTE. Waaaaay BTE. I did a little happy dance.

All of these photos have been Photo of the Day on this blog. The original of the Third Place winner can be seen here. I liked the original of the First Place winner so much, I almost entered it in the Color Digital category but I wasn’t sure how the judges would react to seeing the same photo twice, so I went with the tithonia photo instead. You can see the original version of the sundial here.

Snowmageddon 2.0

This time the forecast was right. Snowstorm overnight, followed by a blizzard in the late afternoon. Up to 20" of precipitation expected. Blowing and drifting snow. White-out conditions. No one should be driving unless it’s an emergency. But you know there are always a few idiots who ignore the warnings and are out driving around.

Yesterday, I was one of those idiots.

I didn’t mean to be one of those idiots. When I got up that morning, the overnight storm was mostly over leaving 4" to 5" of snow. It was snowing lightly when I went out about 12:30 PM, shoveled my driveway and cleaned off my car, finishing a little after 1 PM. Then I went back inside, did some emails, printed a couple of recipes for the annual Wooden Spoon Valentine’s Day dinner (this year’s theme is “harmonious pairings”) and took a shower before heading off to work. When I looked out the window 45 minutes later, it was snowing so hard my driveway didn’t look as if I had done any shoveling and my car had disappeared.

My common sense also disappeared. The plow had been through my neighborhood several times during the morning. Reasoning that the highways are always in better condition than the residential streets, I thought all I had to do was make my way a few blocks to Rt 28, the main drag through my town, and I would be fine.

Rt 28 was in worse shape than my street. There was no traffic, just wall-to-wall plows falling hopelessly behind the predicted blowing and drifting snow. Again, I (falsely) reasoned that there would be more traffic on Rt. 22, the heavily traveled highway I take to work, so it would be in better condition.

It was, but just barely. And deteriorating fast. By the time I reached my exit 40 minutes later (twice the normal 20 minutes), it was snowing at a rate of 2 inches per hour and visibility was down to about two car lengths. I didn’t exit the highway, I slid off of it, white-knuckling my way to Springfield Avenue. Two traffic lights later, I discovered that Cardinal Drive hadn’t been plowed. I couldn’t even see it. I made my best guess where it was based on the position of the traffic light, turned left and started ramming my car through a foot of snow.

Thank goodness for front-wheel drive. And for all of you sissies out there who are weeping and wailing on the evening news: I am the proud owner of a 2007 Toyota Camry. I have never had any problems with mats or accelerator pedals. Mr. Secretary, you will have to pry my Camry from my cold, dead hands.

I reached the end of the street to find that the parking lot had been plowed. They were just finishing up as I drove in. I’m sure the crew thought I was out of my mind, trotting into a building that everyone else had exited hours ago. I paged management to let them know that I was in, then called the nightshift guy and told him to forget coming in. If road conditions were this bad now, and the storm was predicted to last until midnight, there was no way that he was going to make it in at 10 PM nor did I want to be trying to drive home at my usual midnight. I fired up my PC and settled in for the night.

At this point, I’m sure you’re wondering why I was so hellbent on going to work. Very simply, we just moved into this building. We haven’t had a chance to test the generator so we have no idea if it will failover or not. Management needed a body in the building overnight in case of a power failure during the storm. If we lost power and the generator failed, then I would have to make the call to the GM that no data center employee ever wants to make: there has been a power outage, the genny has failed and we are on UPS.

For those of you who are not fluent in "GeekSpeak", that means that the data center would be running on a backup battery which lasts only 20 minutes, a terribly small window of opportunity to perform an orderly shutdown of the network. There’s no way that we would be able to shut down more than a hundred servers within 20 minutes, so we would try to shut down and "save" the important ones, and hope that the others wouldn’t be damaged or lose data when the battery was drained and the power suddenly went out.

It was at this point that the realization was made that we have no flashlights. A flashlight is crucial because the best way to know if the generator is running would be for me to make my way in total darkness (because the generator is only for the data center) to the stairwell on the far side of the building from my desk, climb up one flight of stairs, again in total darkness, and listen for the generator which is located on the roof. Very high tech, I know.

Fortunately, I work with a really great guy. He is so well-liked by everyone in the company that our programmers, who are mainly Indian, have made him an honorary Punjabi and bestowed the name "Geet Singh" on him. Geet is one those people who has everything you could possibly need squirreled away in his cubicle. We have known each other so long and so well (we went to computer school together) that I knew he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed the small flashlight he uses when working in tight spaces or poorly lit areas.

The other essential tool I needed, a snow shovel, I had tossed into my trunk before leaving home. Having worked the nightshift for the past six years, I am accustomed to digging my car out after the parking lot is plowed in the morning. We are in a new building with a new plowing company so at 5 AM when I heard the plow arrive, I dashed downstairs to ask if they could try not to plow me in too badly.

It was the same crew that had seen me arrive 13 hours before. One of them was already cleaning the snow off of my car. They jokingly asked if I had slept at the office overnight. When I responded that I was working a double shift because no one else could come in, all three grabbed snow shovels and dug out my car.

I was amazed and grateful. Time is money for these guys. They have other parking lots to plow and then day jobs to go to. Thanks to them, when I left work a few hours later, all I had to do was scrape the ice off of my windows.

It reminded me of all the stories I have heard about how neighborly people are in New Jersey. I always try to be a good neighbor, helping out when asked or offering to lend a hand unasked. Wish I could say it’s reciprocated. Sadly, I wasn’t at all surprised when I got home to see that every driveway in my neighborhood had been cleared except mine. I’ve lived in this neighborhood for 15 years. Everyone knows me. Everyone knows that I am single and live alone. Everyone knows that I work nights. And they know that I don’t own a snowblower. They never hesitate to ask me for favors but no one even had the humanity to clear out the huge pile that the plow left at the end of my driveway.

My trusty snow shovel was in my trunk but I had been awake for more than 24 hours. I was too exhausted to shovel my driveway. I left my car parked in the street, climbed the glacier left by the plow, then wearily trudged up my driveway to the house. The Fur Patrol was glad to see me. They were hungry for their breakfast. I fed them and then collapsed into bed.

Would you be surprised to learn that I am not upset with my selfish neighbors? I’m a firm believer in karma. What goes around, comes around. This will come back to them and bite them in the ass. As for me, I will continue to do favors for my neighbors and anyone else that needs my help. I know that it will come back to me. It did this morning when three good Samaritans took time out from their workday to shovel out my car so that I would be able to go home and sleep.

Snowmageddon

After all of the dire warnings, the hysterical mobs in the grocery stores, the mad rush to get home before the storm, "snowmageddon" turned out to be a non-event in my area. Two or three inches that wasn't hardly worth shovelling.

I took a few obligatory pictures and then headed off to do my normal Saturday errands.

Allure of Chocolate

Last month, my fellow strawhatter, “A”, asked if I would be interested in attending a talk on chocolate. I have a confession to make:

My name is OldRoses and I am a chocoholic.

Is there such a thing as “Chocoholics Anonymous?” If there is, I don’t want to know. I love my chocolate too much. It’s genetic, you know. My mother always said that she could eat an old boot if it was covered with chocolate.

“Allure of Chocolate” was held at the NJ Museum of Agriculture and included a presentation on the history of chocolate and its processing by Birnn Chocolates, a local chocolatier followed by a demonstration of chocolate recipes and creations. Afterwards was promised a chocolate “Shoppe” with Birnn chocolate products for sale and refreshments which turned out to be samples of the recipes demonstrated during the talk.

I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed. The part of the program covering the history of chocolate and how it is processed was fascinating. But too short. Also a little hard to follow. There was a video with subtitles telling what was going on and a lecturer who added his two cents as the video played. I’m too old to multitask like that. I either want to watch the video, read the subtitles or listen to the lecture. But not all three at once.

This was followed by a nice lady who went to great lengths to demonstrate her chocolate ideas and recipes. I think I would have enjoyed more lecture and less cooking. I was looking for information on the different types of chocolate, the ideal temperatures and methods to melt them, how they are used in various baked goods and confections and where to buy specialty chocolates.

I also would have loved more information on the history of chocolate, its discovery, its uses and the differences between the modern chocolatiers. My only real criticism of the lecturer was that when he was asked about the health benefits of chocolates, he laughed and said there were none. I beg to differ. I just received The Healing Powers of Chocolate from the Early Reviewers Group on LibraryThing purporting to discuss precisely that.

A and I skipped the “chocolate shoppe” after the lecture. We are contemplating a little field trip to the Birnn Chocolates factory in Highland Park. They offer tours of their facilities. Yum!! The refreshments were very disappointing. Too many “shortcuts”, i.e. use of mixes, readymade foods and cheap chocolate.

The Museum of Agriculture was fascinating. Lots of old tractors, wagons, carriages and farm implements. Labels were lacking on quite a few items. A and I puzzled over one structure, either a henhouse or a rabbit hutch, we couldn’t decide. In the lobby was an old organ and a tilapia swimming in a fish tank. All in all, a fun place to visit.

Back in the Greenhouse

There is no better way to spend a cold winter afternoon than working in a greenhouse. The warmth is welcome as are the growing plants. The greenhouse at Rutgers Gardens has been busy since last fall. The tropicals were all brought before the first frost. Plants have been divided and bulbs have been cleaned and stored. Then cuttings were begun.

If you have ever been to the Spring Flower Fair, you might be surprised to learn that some of the thousands of plants offered for sale started out as cuttings in the greenhouse. In past years, I’ve helped with the coleus cuttings. Today, I was working on scented geranium cuttings. I loved the scent of the rose geraniums so instead of discarding the leaves that I cut off, I brought them home to scent my living room. Kind of casual potpourri.

When I finished, I gave the cuttings a big drink of water. The misting table didn’t seem to be working.  Coleus cuttings were dry and shriveling up. I watered them also then notified the horticulturist via email of the problem with the misting table when I got home.

I remembered to slip a few treats for Rutger into my pocket on my way out of the house. He kept me company while I worked.

The Big Move

ACL finally moved into their new headquarters nearly a year after the original move date of February 2009. When that date was first announced, I thought that they were being wildly optimistic. After all, my neighbors went without a kitchen for six months because of delays with contractors and inspectors.

ACL had purchased a building that was just a shell. There was nothing inside except the floors. They closed on it in June 2008, expecting to move in less than a year. Instead, the entire process from architects to CO took 18 months.

I had no idea what was involved in moving a company. The infrastructure alone was mindboggling. The floor under the data center had to be reinforced. The original floor would never have been able to support the weight of our equipment. To get the air conditioning units into the data center, windows and a wall had to be removed from the building. The three units were then hoisted up to the second floor, where the data center is located.

Since ACL is a shipping company, the lobbies on the second and third floors in front of the elevator are built to resemble the interior of a ship. The structural support column in the middle of the lunchroom is disguised as a propeller. The elevator itself is small, so the propeller had to be brought in in pieces.

My own involvement with The Big Move started last week, as we began packing up the data center. It took me three nights to pack more than 1,400 tapes. Backup schedules were adjusted as non-essential servers where shut down ahead of time and email was switched to our Disaster Recovery data center in Europe.

Friday, I was in the office early as employees were sent home and the process of backing up the remaining servers and then removing them began. The data center was chaos as the movers removed and packed the servers that had been shut down earlier in the week. I shut down each remaining server as its backup finished. Then the movers took them out of the racks and packed them. My coworkers had spent the afternoon breaking down users’ workstations to be packed and moved. When they finished with those, they too moved into the data center and began breaking down all the cabling and powerstrips.

Then suddenly it was quiet. The movers had made their last run of the night. My coworkers had all gone to the new building. I stayed behind to lock up. I checked all the nooks and crannies, looking for anything that had been overlooked. Everything I found, I packed in the crates that would be moved on Saturday. Then I checked all of the crates, labeling any that were missing their location labels. I was home before 10 pm, earlier than usual, but I was exhausted.

Saturday and Sunday were a blur. I was surprised to learn that it is still dark at 7 am. I’m not accustomed to waking up in the dark. I was even more surprised that I was able to get up at that hour, which is normally the middle of the night for me. I made it into the office before 9 am each day, earlier than I normally wake up.

I now understand why people complain about fumes that are given off by new carpets and furniture. My nose ran and my eyes burned all day Saturday. By Sunday, I was feeling better probably because the outside doors had been open for the movers on Friday and Saturday allowing the fumes to escape and fresh air to come in.

We spent hours hooking up user workstations, installing printers and faxes and of course I had to unpack and rack those tapes. Fax lines had to be tested. Printers which were moved empty had to be filled with paper. While the drones were busy readying the users, the managers were working to bring the network back to life. By Sunday night, almost everything was back to normal and I was monitoring backups once more.

I was glad that I had the foresight to ask my friend from whom I had adopted Bandit to catsit for me. She came by once a day to feed the Fur Patrol and scoop their litterboxes. I was so exhausted Saturday and Sunday nights that I drove home like a drunk driver, weaving all over the road. Once home, I had to force myself to eat something before falling into bed.

For once in my life, I’m glad I don’t work the dayshift. I admire my coworkers who had to be in the office first thing this morning, fixing glitches and helping users. I was able to catch up on my sleep. By the time I came into the office at my usual 4 pm, almost all of the problems had been solved.

My commuting time is about the same but I’m not happy about the location of the new office. Of all the towns in New Jersey, they had to pick Westfield. I lived there while I was married. A lot of very bad things happened to me there. I left fifteen years ago intending never to go back. And now I have to go back. Every day.

Holly

Rutgers Gardens has a large holly collection.

I’ve driven by it many times, but never taken the time to photograph it. The hollies with yellow berries intrigue me.

As you can see, the light was terrible this afternoon. Harsh, washing out all of the colors. I had terrible trouble with shadows.

So no Photo of the Day. I took a few nice ones, but nothing that really stood out.

I thought this was kind of fun:

You can see all of my photos from today on Flickr.