Worksation: BSG EXCEL

me: indeed4:31 PM for the life of me, i cannot copy and paste this table from excel into word and have it fitand all of it survive the journey4:32 PM it's like in battlestar galactica, when they fire up the FTP and all jump, but not all the ships make it.it's like that4:34 PMMatt: really. could be a problem with the singularity being created by your right clicking. me: i pasted it as an object4:35 PM Matt: it is not easy. in the instant before it pastes, that table essentially exists at all points in the known universe.

Randomly Weird: Modesto

Yep.  That is a bear paw mitten.  My boss had to convince me that this gross furry thing wasn't alive or real  or recently dead before I would get any closer.  He also said it was probably shiny because animals were peeing on it.  

We left it there.  

I'm pretty sure it's rare, but that's cool.

During the week: just another day

This time of year, I spend a lot of days doing this.  I walk around, look at and count plants, note erosion, pull tics off my pant legs, and occasionally see snakes.  In the photo above, I am standing on a berm on a constructed wetland (the wetland is to my left).  Obviously, we need to do some work here -- this berm is eroding away which means the wetland isn't holding water as long as it should and not supporting the water-loving plants we would like to grow there.  Mark, our landscape architect, made me be in the photo for scale.  I was like, dude, what if I was a giant?  This could actually be the Grand Canyon and I make it look tiny!

Also, Crosby tells me I look like a boy when I'm in the field.  I think I look prepared.  However, I am trying to remedy this situation and purchased a hot pink field shirt.  Photos soon.

Mice, Meece, Moose

Today, Sunny kept saying that his office smelled. Now, him being of the 'pizza box in my car for three years, laundry in my backseat, bottles of hot sauce sitting on the corner of my desk" mentality, we ignored (and mocked) his claims of hovering death.

"Doesn't your office always smell this way?"

"Face it Sunny. It smells like your old car"

"Is that your underwear in that pile?"

"Sunny, why don't you clean everything before we start tearing apart the ceiling?"

We lit candles. He cleaned. The hallway smelled overwhelmingly of orange cleaning oil. And still, he sat there with a discontent look on his face. Crinkling his nose. I rolled my eyes at him, and told him maybe he was like Pig-Pen with odor instead of dust.

We were all being super nice.

Imagine our chagrin when the building maintenance came round, climbed a ladder to look above the ceiling squares, and pulled out four decomposing mice.

Happy Christmas Eve Eve!

It's a pillow! It's a pet!

The day before Christmas break bears witness to the Holiday Sweater. A bingo board of Christmas Awesome, the Holiday Sweater can be counted on to imbue holiday cheer. It's contagious. This year, the effect was bolstered by close proximity to a pillow pet, the darling Amanda, and her cute baby bump. Happy Holidays indeed!

The golden gate was golden before the bridge

Bill and I went into work early this morning. We were treated to a beautiful sunrise and a beautiful bridge and beautiful headlands and everything was golden and clear. A "we are so glad we live here" moment with our coffee and early morning conversation.

Also, I was knitting furiously during the drive. And now, there is a super creepy doll sitting on a chair in my office. She is completely freaking out my coworkers. I put candy cane joe-joes next to her to make her more approachable, but I'm not sure that's working.

During the week: mudflats n' marshes

Part of the pond we were inspecting had dried. We needed to mark the outer edge of the area where mud was showing -- and me, being the lightest, was nominated. I walked on little towers of mud, wobbly and with moats of water around them. The further into the pond I went, the more squishy the towers became until at one point they started cracking. Like you picture ice cracking on a frozen river. I froze too and took data with the GPS unit and then ran back to the shore, hoping that light, quick touches on each mud tower would make them less likely to collapse.

The rain held. It poured when I arrived home. Good day.

Nerd Shirt Monday: a draw

Kate and Amanda

Jeff and me

Nerd shirt Monday was a total draw this week. We had to put it to a company-wide vote. Amanda won; her R2D2 necklace gave her the cutting edge. According to Kate, the winner receives a "confusing blend of pride and shame." Yay!

During the week: model mottles

Two things.

One- Jen and I were out at a field site on Wednesday (where they unfortunately found a body last Sunday... yeah, that's a different, more exciting and sad story), and we were conducting a wetland delineation. I dug a soil pit and found the above soil clump -- it was orange with mottling, which is basically the reduction of iron. This is what happens when water moves slowly through soil and is one of the features we use to identify wetland habitat. The color was so bright and dense!

Two- Look. At. My. Nails. A few days ago, I had a manicure to celebrate the end of rigorous field work, a treat if you will, and then realized I had to go and do a delineation. I shoveled. I had hands covered in mud and clay. Not a chip! Seriously, Sensi Nails in the Inner Sunset rules (and is only $28 for a manicure AND pedicure).

During the week: disappearing into the landscape

Field work wrapped up at the Lake this week. We were scheduled for more time out there, but we are rockstar field warriors and powered through all the surveys real quick-like. TomM and I won for most time spent at the Lake. We should get stars or gold plated walkies or something. Lessons learned and reflections? Sure. See here:

• Despite the rattlesnake population being "5x" higher than ever this year, I did not see a single rattle snake. I spent the first three days out there moving the speed of molasses, and tapping every rock before approaching. By the end, I was plowing through fields, still aware, still observant, but much more confident. I also had on snake gators that covered the lower half of my legs. Man. Do those things make you sweat.
• Physicality. This was the hardest field work I have ever done, and because I wanted to do my share (I was usually the only girl; Amy spent a week too), I pushed myself beyond my usual comfort zone. The resultant discovery was that I am capable of way more than I ever thought I was. That is so rad.
• It's a weird day at work when you have these two thoughts:

"If I fall, I hope I don't hit my head and lose consciousness before hitting the lake."

"Wow, it's a good thing I have been rock climbing. Otherwise, I would have totally fallen off that cliff."

• Being the only girl surrounded by super dudely dudes is very educational and entertaining. I learned about hygiene dogma, the ability to tune out voices at a certain pitch, chewing tobacco, and the refreshing nature of Coors Light on tap.
• I am completely comfortable in pine forests. They feel like home. Oak woodlands make me nervous.
• Circling Ospreys giving warning calls are no joke. Back away.
• Coyote pups are possibly the cutest things EVER.
• Carp are dumb and lazy fish. They will fight for bread you throw in the water. They will not eat tobacco chew (Aaron tested this theory).
• I am convinced Lake Marina makes boaters sign a contract agreeing only to play Kid Rock, Pussycat Dolls, or Nickleback on all boats on the lake. Associated hooting and hollering must also occur when wake boarders and/or skiers attain the standing position. In addition, if boaters see biologists sweating on steep hillsides or hanging on cliffs, they must swing as close as possible for mocking purposes and to incite jealousy in those clipboard carriers.
• Old Navy flip flops float. Old Navy flip flops on a lake will all congregate in one area, searching for their mate, which is probably in a boat somewhere or in a tree. It's the truest dating pool! (zing!)

For my job, I do a lot of field work. Most the sites are small, single day visits, and they tend to meld into a blended hodgepodge memory. The time I spent at the Lake will always stand out -- we spent weeks out there, and our project team was rad. The trip also had amazing contrasts: I was surrounded by my team most the time (talking, laughing, driving, boating, discussing, debating, listening to Metallica really loud), but then there were stark periods of isolation, where I would be up on a hillside with no one in earshot, no boats coming around, and none of that ambient noise that happens in the city. I would stop, and sit on a rock for a moment and drink it in; sweaty and dirty and listening.

During the week: way up

Today, we climbed a big hill. I was very happy to reach the top. Also? I love my handkerchief. It's the best piece of field equipment ever. That said, I also love my walking stick and am considering carrying it around all the time. Even in San Francisco.

blurry but still

During the week: wild and scenic

Week three for me out at the Lake. While the field days are still tough as all get out, I can't ignore how beautiful the lake and surrounding areas are. The morning boat ride is best: glass-smooth lake, no wind, and few boaters.

We headed up the main river than flows into the Lake yesterday. Three months ago, this river was literally a trickle -- maybe fifteen feet wide at most. With the snow melt, the river is a beast, and we have to watch for the rocks that would form rapids at lower water levels (see Nate in the above photo, searching). Now, they'll just ruin our propeller.

The river is wild and scenic, meaning that the river is preserved in its free-flowing condition and no one can divert, realign, or put in a Starbucks. The view was incredible. I suggested we survey the rest of the river starting upstream, and canoe or inner-tube on down. Crew? Enthused. Not sure the client would be.

Speaking of the view, where I am standing in the above photo is where the previous photo was taken. My teammate, Tom, said he had to take my photo because "when you're like 80 you have to show your grandkids what you used to do." You may not be able to tell from afar, but I am covered in streaks of soot in this photo. We had to hike through burned out chemise chaparral to progress along the hillside. It was not fun. We both got dirty and grumpy although the view and a nice breeze helped a bit.

This week, I have two more days out here, and then four next week. So. Ten days down, six to go. Woot.

During the week: be vigilant!

This morning, as our boat slowly puttered to our survey site, I wondered what would happen if I just casually rolled out of the boat. Would they stop? Could I just spend the day floating on my back, center lake, until the putter boat headed back to the Marina? Sun out, heat out, floating sounded lovely. The boat puttered on. The moment passed.

The sides of the lake are incredibly steep and are often shale. Slip, slide, today I slid about seven feet, but it felt like 20. The scenery is beautiful; everyone might be too tired to notice. Amy saw two rattlers today, one looking poised to strike. Thankfully, it lost interest and darted down the hill.

I know I sound full of complaints. The area we are in is beautiful, but right now, and for the rest of the week, I would rather observe it from a boat. With a wide-brimmed hat. And my swim suit. And a fishing pole.

See my coworker Nate? This is what we are working with, plus 300 feet interior. Survey says.

Sometimes, you hike and hike and hike to find a wall of chemise blocking you. Hmph.

And other times you find what we fondly refer to as 'toyon prison.' Our team carries walkies, and occasionally you'll hear the desperate cry. Toyon Prison! I'm in Toyon Prison! Best way out? Invariably through the poison oak.

Here's your plant for the day: Clarkia unguiculata, elegant clarkia. Not rare, but pretty.

During the week: Central Valley Lake, rattlers, and clarkia

Where have I vanished this week? Where did I disappear to?

I have vanished into the landscape, into the scenery in the back of the photo. Rare plant surveys within 300-400 feet of the water line take you across steep terrain and hide you in chemise chaparral. Rattlers can find you, but can't fang your legs because you have on snake gators. They are hot and make your legs sweat, but are better than a snake bite (see below).

We find funny things in the deep wilderness, and not just Clarkia rostrata. This looks like a very very old homestead, all stone, half a chimney, and all overgrown with weeds. I am so curious what happened there.

Days end, you've circled the inlet, only to be separated from your boat by water (the boat is just around the bend in the photo below). Neither you nor your coworker want to retrace steps a mile round through poison oak and steep slopes and shale rock. Nope. Row-sham-bo, who is swimming? Not me, I won, and Aaron is a super trooper.

Also, he found an unopened beer! Probably the stash of the super lazy and dumb carp that were thick as bees in this inlet. I told Aaron if he jumped into the boat with a carp in each hand, that would be amazing. In the end, we were actually just kinda glad the keys were in the boat...cuz otherwise, home sweet home (two pictures up)!

During the week: albino knuckled

Last week, I was driving a fleet vehicle on a project site. I started on a paved road, then a gravel road, then a dirt road with muddy puddles and a steep incline and steep decline on either side. By the time I rolled the car to a stop, I was sitting upright and rigid, finally understanding the definition of 'white-knuckled.' The road in front of me more or less disappeared in a swath of rocky gravel, hardly wide enough to turn around.

Back and forth, back and forth, a gazillion point turn followed. I jumped in and out of the car to check how much room I had before the edge of the small ravine, and nosed the hillside like bumpers in San Francisco. My other option was to back out, which just seemed impossible.

Years later (more like 10 minutes), I made my way back along a mud road, gravel road, tires finally grabbing sweet sweet pavement. And I laughed at myself after for being so nervous. But I definitely gave a nod to all the random driving lessons my dad gave me in the Sierras when I was fifteen.

Also? I saw like 20 peacocks, including this fancypants albino:

looking at flowers (also known as work)

And that is actually Amy, not me. But don't fret. My mother couldn't even tell the difference.

the veg in veg monitoring

Work terms become a second language. You don't even realize that what you are saying (often) might not make sense to someone in a different industry. I feel like I throw around the term "veg monitoring" quite a bit, to the response of quizzical looks or blank stares ---see the above photo for an accurate pictorial representation. Morgan and I crept and sat and crept and sat along hillsides in south San Jose yesterday. I usually visit this particular field site in the drier months, when things are prickly, thistly, and full of ticks, but Thursday's visit was rad --- tons of wild flowers were up, and I even saw a federally listed Bay Checkerspot butterfly! Schizophrenic clouds chased us all day, alternating the temps between freezing and quite warm. Good day. Next week, I'm going to a site a bit further south that is really close to one of the highest density wildflower fields in the Bay Area. Awesome.

the long way around

I just spent a beautiful day hiking the hills of Pleasanton, looking for the Callippe silverspot butterfly's host plant -- a pretty wee viola. The tiny flowers were yellow on green hills and California looks like it has had enough rain for once. I know that I'm lucky that wandering hillsides today is part of my job -- but I have to interject that those hills were ridiculously steep, there was not really an option not to hike them, and my route was, well, circuitous. See above.

* * * *

I know. Still pretty sweet.

smashed pumpkin [sans wine bottle]

Happy Halloween and we are all now running for the Golden Gate Bridge so that we are not stuck in the North Bay. Again. Zoom zoom!