If not murdered at least the parrot would be released to the wild. We have wild parrots in Fort Lauderdale and they are ridiculously loud. I can't imagine having one as a pet, although I have friends who have birds.

Dog is in the car, now I have to trick the cat into the carrier, and get myself something like breakfast. Slept like crap, but I should be able to nap during a charging stop.

We use Teams in a fairly limited way in my office--mostly as a sort of running chat/virtual water cooler for intra-team Q&A, announcements, and just the kind of griping and joking around that used to take place out loud when we were all in the office 40+ hours/week pre-covid. It works fine for that, but when people try to use the other features it's not a great tool.

But everything pales beside the evil that is Workday. It's not every day that one's workplace challenges draw a major write-up in the Seattle Times: [link]

Y’all are definitely making me not miss office life.

I am puttering around the apartment, not very focused but still productive. Made room in my closet for R’s clothes, did some laundry stuff, purged some knickknacks and organized others. Taking a lunch break, then I have to make my bed and pack the car. Living between two places an hour apart is kind of a bitch, even while it is a privilege.

Shir, that is so awful. There’s just so many horrific details during horrific happenings. Things you wouldn’t ever think of, like parrots imitating sirens and door knocks.

I agree that there's so much awfulness and terrible, heartbreaking deatails all around. The parrots thing I actually find amusing.

If you'd like to see something more hopeful - though it does include some details - one of the stories is of four Bedouins who came to rescue their cousin. But first they rescued 30-40 other people. [link] it's sad, and incredible, and there are literally thousands of other stories like this. I try to focus on them.

Another wonderful story is a story of a nursery in one of the Kibutzes. The survivors thought the plants were all gone. Few people came back to get some stuff back to the families in the places they were evacuated to, to a living nursery with a sign, "we're sorry we had to break in. We wanted to water the plants", left by some other soldiers.

I still can't believe so many people can't return to their homes or rebuilt them (those who want to). They survived unfathomable things. I want them to be able to come back home (if it's not burned down/destroyed). They won't be able to do so for a very long time.

The consequences of this mess for so many is unfathomable. If they somehow manage to find some resolution soon there is still going to be a huge amount of rebuilding to be done. Plus all of the emotional toll. I'm so inspired by those who are doing what they can to give aid and comfort. Seeing the good people helps with maintaining hope for humanity.

Work-related article (for me, anyway) in this week's New Yorker, about the upcoming retirement of the last official lighthouse keeper in America: [link]

(I suspect it's paywalled, sadly)

Those of you who have kept in close touch with me over the past year or so know that my wife Lisa's mother Joy has been dealing with a recurrence of the lung cancer that she's gone a couple of rounds with over the last decade.

Joy came home from the hospital this morning with a hospice team. They don't know how long she has, but I suspect it isn't going to be long.

Lisa and her mother have had a very up-and-down relationship over the years, and Lisa has been her primary caregiver roughly since last November. I would humbly ask you folks for easy-passing~ma for Joy and comfort~ma for Lisa.

Thanks for listening, and giving me a place where I can talk about this stuff, even if I don't have the heart for it most days.

Timelies all!

{{{{Karl and family}}}}

Karl, I'm sorry. 2023 is really taking people out. ETA: I'm thinking maybe you have enough heart for the Pacific Timezone; maybe you have *too much* heart for this.