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But first: another Mercury benefit stream, this time for the place itself. The tunes weren't bad, really.
Lambert House, at least in its physical form*, has been closed for weeks. That doesn't stop our funding agencies, however, from demanding the quarterly statistical reports in a timely fashion, says Ken the director. Unfortunately, Lambert House isn't set up to allow remote access to its network, and given the sensitivity of the data we hold, I'm (under normal circumstances) completely OK with that. So after some texting back & forth with Ken about when & how to get this done, I headed toward the house early this afternoon.
The E line was more crowded than it was on my other two trips. It was crowded with the kind of people you usually see on the E line, i.e. the sort that can't or won't take steps not to get infected. I'm really hoping that's my last mass transit trip for a while. Yes, I was wearing my N95 mask.
I got to the house to find Ken not only absent but unreachable. I waited for him in the library, which is on the same floor he said he'd be working on. In the library I saw a giant, pink stuffed unicorn that I'd never seen before, looking lonely and waiting for the youth to come back. Those same youth are shut up right now, often with unaccepting, rotten parents. That unicorn made me cry.
Since I had no access to Ken, I had no access to his souped-up credentials. That means I couldn't see any of my previous work or save new work in the expected place, but I could still run queries against the database. I had to rely on my own memory of how to do things, which I hope is accurate. I left plenty of documentation of what & where the results were and how I got them. I hope that suffices.
Lambert House can't afford to heat its building when it's empty. My feet were still numb when I got to the train station on the way home. I had exceedingly mediocre takeout teriyaki for dinner; I should have taken the few extra steps to Tacos Chukis, which is open for takeout.
Freaky but safe: not seeing another soul on the way out of the cavernous University of Washington light rail station. There were other people on the train, but not many; they must have used the other escalator.
Note to self: Wayward Vegan is also open for takeout, as seen from the mercifully uncrowded 45. My son won't go for that, so I might as well.
And why did Ken go missing? His yard flooded! He was struggling mightily to keep his foundation from getting damaged. I didn't really think he'd blown me off, but jeez, that's a good excuse.
*We've begun to move groups including the one I facilitate online. I'll be participating, natch. More about that anon.
Lambert House, at least in its physical form*, has been closed for weeks. That doesn't stop our funding agencies, however, from demanding the quarterly statistical reports in a timely fashion, says Ken the director. Unfortunately, Lambert House isn't set up to allow remote access to its network, and given the sensitivity of the data we hold, I'm (under normal circumstances) completely OK with that. So after some texting back & forth with Ken about when & how to get this done, I headed toward the house early this afternoon.
The E line was more crowded than it was on my other two trips. It was crowded with the kind of people you usually see on the E line, i.e. the sort that can't or won't take steps not to get infected. I'm really hoping that's my last mass transit trip for a while. Yes, I was wearing my N95 mask.
I got to the house to find Ken not only absent but unreachable. I waited for him in the library, which is on the same floor he said he'd be working on. In the library I saw a giant, pink stuffed unicorn that I'd never seen before, looking lonely and waiting for the youth to come back. Those same youth are shut up right now, often with unaccepting, rotten parents. That unicorn made me cry.
Since I had no access to Ken, I had no access to his souped-up credentials. That means I couldn't see any of my previous work or save new work in the expected place, but I could still run queries against the database. I had to rely on my own memory of how to do things, which I hope is accurate. I left plenty of documentation of what & where the results were and how I got them. I hope that suffices.
Lambert House can't afford to heat its building when it's empty. My feet were still numb when I got to the train station on the way home. I had exceedingly mediocre takeout teriyaki for dinner; I should have taken the few extra steps to Tacos Chukis, which is open for takeout.
Freaky but safe: not seeing another soul on the way out of the cavernous University of Washington light rail station. There were other people on the train, but not many; they must have used the other escalator.
Note to self: Wayward Vegan is also open for takeout, as seen from the mercifully uncrowded 45. My son won't go for that, so I might as well.
And why did Ken go missing? His yard flooded! He was struggling mightily to keep his foundation from getting damaged. I didn't really think he'd blown me off, but jeez, that's a good excuse.
*We've begun to move groups including the one I facilitate online. I'll be participating, natch. More about that anon.
