February 28

Pogo had a lazy day today, but he kept Boyfriend company at his desk most of the evening. That's where I got this shot. I nearly didn't have a photo of the day today. I didn't even make it out of the house, except to walk Pogo, until after 8 pm this evening.

Taking care of Pogo has gotten a lot easier now that both his humans are home. He especially enjoys it when Boyfriend cooks for him -- apparently he's not the only one who finds my cooking lacking. It's also nice not to have to rush home to walk him after work, and not having to change the housebreaking pads Pogo had to use because he had to be at home alone ten hours or more a day.

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February 27

I'm starting to worry about my preoccupation with the weather.

On days like today, when the sun is shining and it's nice and unseasonably warm, it's enough to cheer you right up. I even pulled my camera out of its bag before leaving for work, just to snap a photo of the temperature reading (which is a far cry from January 16th, but still). But on my way in, I listened to the forecast on the radio and heard that more of that vile, disgusting snow is going to fall on Sunday ... and Monday, and possibly Tuesday.

You know what? That really sucks.

Spring can't come quickly enough for my taste. I've had quite enough of snow and sleet and cold temperatures for this season.

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February 26

My watch has given me a rash. I wonder if this could be a case of jewelry-transmitted disease?

I've owned this watch for a while now -- almost two years -- without problems. Recently, though, my wrist started itching under the strap, where the buckle is. Of course, without thinking, I did what anybody would do when they start to itch: I scratched it.

In the greater scheme of things, this isn't a big problem. I'll probably end up buying a new wristband for my watch and be done with it. It is, however, a distraction -- I end up thinking about this every time I glance at my wrist to check the time.

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February 25

Normally, I'm not a name dropper. But today I received a present -- the gorgeous print above -- from accomplished plein air painter and budding multimedia artist Anne Fitzpatrick

She lives in the luxury apartment building where I work as a concierge in the evenings, so I've known her for a few years now. In the course of several evenings last year, I offered her advice and instruction on using Photoshop to complete an art project she was working on: Iconic Handbags. I'm technically skilled at photo enhancement, and I'm a pretty good teacher, so I was able to help her take her artistic vision and turn it into physical reality.

This evening, she surprised me with this lovely framed print of my favorite part of the project, inscribed to me, and a nice personal note as well. It was such a thoughtful gesture. And, of course, it had to be my Photo of the Day.

Note: Artwork is copyright Anne Fitzpatrick and reproduced here with her kind permission.

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February 24

One of the things a concierge is expected to do is keep up with the goings-on in the city. Most of the time, my colleague Robin puts together lists of activities for the residents that can go up on the bulletin board, but occasionally, I put something together.

Restaurant Week in Boston is coming up, so I did a little detective work and put together a list of restaurants participating in the event. It's a great opportunity for people to visit new restaurants and try a prix-fixe menu, or to visit their old favorites.

Considering the zeal in which I make lists to keep my own life in order, it should come as no surprise that compiling a list of 100-plus nearby restaurants was a fairly simple thing to do. Besides, my residents are an uncommonly well-fed bunch, and -- pun absolutely intended -- they eat this stuff up.

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February 23

There's just no way to get a good photo of my desk at work.

I thought I'd give it a shot today -- again -- by taking several photos and stitching them together. It's an interesting concept and I've really gotten some pretty photos using a free program called Autostitch to create the final image. I used the program on January 14th to get a photo of snow graffiti on my car, and took some fascinating photos while on vacation in Virginia.

Of course, a beautiful panoramic shot of a mountainside with wispy clouds in an azure sky is a far cry from photographing a desk from five feet away in incandescent lights. And even though it took several tries to get it where it is, and it's demonstrably not perfect, at least I'm putting effort into making it interesting.

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February 22

This entry is made possible by my boyfriend in almost every way.

When he was away on his trip, his laptop and the Benetton bag it was in was stolen. Unfortunately, the only place that was supposed to have the bag in stock was the outlet at the Outlet Mall in Wrentham, so off we went. We dropped in to the Calvin Klein outlet while we were there, and Boyfriend bought this rather dapper hat for me. (Oh, and it looks good on me, too.)

Originally, I'd planned on making this picture of the day a self-portrait of me, looking very dapper in this hat. The lighting was set up, the backdrop in place, and the camera battery in my SLR quite dead. I'd been lazy and waited until late to do the photo, which led to an "oh crap" moment. Boyfriend came to the rescue again, lending me his camera so I could snap a photo of the hat, at least, hanging from the corner of my computer monitor ... appropriately enough, the monitor I got from him for Christmas.

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February 21

There's more snow coming tomorrow.

We have quite the assortment of snow-clearing tools on our front porch. Different shovels work better for different kinds of snow clearing; there's one for lifting lots of light snow, metal-tipped models for cutting through crusts of ice, large metal spades, a plastic one for wetter snow, and one small solid steel square blade that's excellent for whacking and cracking sheets of ice. Oh, and the broom -- this is for when there's not enough snow to shovel.

Hopefully, tomorrow's snow will be the last of the winter, and soon, the landladies will make the shovels go away for the season. And I can't wait.

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February 20

I collect, use, and enjoy fountain pens, and generally have at least one (and occasionally more) on my person at any particular time. It is a little unusual for me to have ten with me, as photographed above, but it's not unheard of.

The one on the far left is my Parker Duofold from 1921, which I recently has restored and have been enjoying for the past week. It's the oldest pen in my modest collection. Next to it is an Esterbrook (the Bic of its day) and a Moore, an uncommon fountain pen manufactured here in Boston. Next to it is another Parker Duofold, though this one is a much more common British model from the 1950s. Two Shaeffers are next in line, the green one with a classic Snorkel filler and the gold-plated one from the 1970s. A modern Cross ATX and a pretty Namiki Pilot "Vanishing Point" pen are next, with my two Pelikans ending the lineup.

There are all kinds of fascinating facts about these pens, and I'm going to be nice and not bore you with them. Each has its charms, and I've used and enjoyed all of them.

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February 19

The idea to photograph a negative strip, render the digital photograph as a negative (thus making the negative strip in the picture a positive), and then post the results, is more difficult to accomplish than it looks. Above is my best effort at a visual double-negative.

The idea for this little bit of experimentation came to me like an avalanche. Literally. A bunch of photo envelopes from 2002 cascaded off my bookshelf onto the floor today, and as I was picking them up I noticed the inimitable Wilma von Shwink smugly smiling at me.

Fortunately, the avalanche was not large enough to bury me or the dog -- and the cat was out of the room at the time. So I can say this truthfully: No animals were harmed in the making of this entry.

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February 18

It’s snowing again. When I look out, the blowing snow resembles nothing so much as a swarm of malevolent Tinkerbells. Originally, the forecast called for mixed rain and snow and little to no accumulation. When I checked it online a few minutes ago, they were calling for about an inch of snow.

Well, an inch is about an inch too much for me.

For what it’s worth, it’s also fiendishly difficult to get a good photo of snow falling at night. This is the best of a pretty mediocre series of shots; I popped the flash at the beginning of the two-second exposure to try to catch the blowing snow in suspension.

The snow should end tomorrow – if the forecast holds. It won’t be a moment too soon, either.

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February 17

I don't send a lot of snail mail these days. All of my bills are paid online, and aside from the occasional personal letter (which I write too seldom), I only send cards for special occasions.

Coincidentally, a special occasion is coming up on Saturday -- Ruth Halpin's birthday.

To call Ruth a friend doesn't even begin to describe the complex and convoluted relationship we share. To call her my ex sounds too pejorative. She occupies a special little niche of her own in my life, having known me for more than half of that life. She's closer to me than many members of my biological family, and to me, she's one of the few constants in my life. So her birthday is certainly a special occasion, and definitely merits a snail mail salute.

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February 16

My coworkers Ennio, Helder, and I got together to play a joke on my colleague Robin today.

On holidays and when the boss isn't around, Robin takes off her uniform tie. In her defense, it's not a very attractive thing; it's a floppy little clip-on thing that falls off at the slightest provocation and won't stay in place without the help of a strategically-placed safety pin. In her place, I'd skip wearing it, too. However, since Robin is such a stickler for uniform rules, we thought it would be funny if we all doffed our ties -- in solidarity, of course.

Such an occasion demands a photograph, and the best of the ones we took sans cravates was our blowing kisses at the camera.

(Note the pretty new cufflinks on my sleeve, my Valentine's Day gift from my boyfriend.)

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February 15

Caring for a diabetic dog is a very complex undertaking (as I've talked about here, here, here, and here). Between giving shots, managing diet, and carefully watching your dog's behavior for signs of blood sugar that's too high or too low, you make the transition from pet care to health care.

I love Pogo, and I'm glad to do everything I can to keep him healthy and improve his quality of life for the time that we have remaining with him. It can be a little overwhelming, though, keeping track of everything you have to do for him. Shots twice a day are bad enough, but we cook for Pogo now, having discovered his appetite is much better than when he was getting kibble twice a day. Additionally, since taking him off processed dry dog food, the insulin dose he's required has gone down from 26 units a day to 18 units a day -- a substantial reduction.

So, in my usual manner of coping, I've been making notes about Pogo's health care needs. The list above is the latest printout; it is clipped on my refrigerator door, where Boyfriend and I can both reference it while caring for Pogo. It keeps us on the same page and helps ensure we're consistent in caring for our puppy dog.

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February 14

Happy Valentine's Day!

Boyfriend and I both feel somewhat under the weather, so we decided not to do anything for this utterly commercial holiday. Why bother? We've been together for seven Valentine's Days now, so it's obvious that we don't need to spend money on each other to prove our love.

That having been said, on my way home from running errands today, I happened to pass the romantically-named "Halls of Tara" florist in West Roxbury -- it appealed to my Irish heritage, I suppose. So I turned around, parked, and picked up some flowers (tulips) for the boyfriend in a pretty purple vase.

Boyfriend, on the other hand, had already picked up a little something for me while returning from his trip. He got me a beautiful pair of Duchamp cufflinks from Harrods in London.

Obviously, neither of us follow directions very well. And really, it's kind of sweet, isn't it?

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February 13

Sometimes, it's all about who you know. Last September, I purchased a vintage Parker Duofold fountain pen. A local shopkeeper knew I collected them, and was kind enough to put it aside for me when he came across it in a bin full of old office supplies. The black hard rubber pen has a date stamp of 1921, boasts the original feed and nib, and although dulled and obviously aged, is still quite beautiful to me.

The pen, as purchased, had been out of use for a long time; a calendar with the lot of office supplies was from 1967. So the ink sac needed to be replaced. The tines of the nib were also misaligned, resulting in scratchy writing, so I had that adjusted. Black hard rubber just won't polish up well, and getting the metal polished likely would have just taken off more of the gold plate, so I left that as-is for the moment. My goal is to have a functional vintage pen, not one that I've prettied up for resale.

Meanwhile, I picked up a bottle of Waterman Encre Havane, a pretty brown ink with an almost-coppery color to it when used on white paper. I have a soft spot for Waterman inks; Encre Verte (Green) is a rich color, while my daily user Pelikan at work is filled with Encre Bleu Effaçable (Florida Blue). Plus, I thought it would look right coming out of a pen that is somewhat older than my grandmother -- a nice vintage touch.

I can't wait to get it home and write some notes with it this weekend. I'm not a great one for writing letters, and if it weren't for fountain pens and the fact that I love to write with them, I'd probably have gone all electronic for my written communications years ago.

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February 12

This is the morning view toward work. In the center of the image is the Prudential Tower, while the shorter building with the round top is 111 Huntington; these buildings, five miles distant, are across the street from my workplace. And this is what it looks like at 8 am from near Forest Hills Station.

I usually work the afternoon shift, 3 - 11:30 pm, but had to go in this morning because a coworker had jury duty. I ended up splitting the shift with another coworker because nobody else could cover, which meant that I worked 12½ hours without getting much sleep. I'm back to my normal schedule tomorrow; let's hope it brings back an unusual level of creativity.

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February 11

In Boston, at almost any employer, a commuter running late has a built-in excuse if he uses public transportation. The commuter rail lines share rails with freight railroads, and some lines (like the Worcester line) have monumental delays because of unscheduled track work. The subway lines usually run well enough, except when they don't, and their cleanliness is at best unexceptional, at worst abyssmal. We have many new buses, but their schedules are at the mercy of Boston's notoriously bad traffic.

New Yorkers have their comprehensive, wide-ranging, 24-hour-a-day subway system that, while not perfect, was built with capacity and expansion in mind. Residents of other large cities in the world have similarly-efficient, if not necessarily pretty, systems. Boston has the T.

When I saw this clock tower at Forest Hills Station on the Orange Line while driving to work, I realized that it's not all the MBTA's fault. How can they be expected to keep the trains on time when they don't even know what the correct time is?

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February 10

The weather is improving in Boston, my cold is improving, and I'm beginning to see beauty in even the ugliest things. I noticed these pretty icicles dripping in the warming weather, hanging off a mound of ugly black and gray snow-ice shoveled out of my parking space at some time over the past four or five storms. We have a few warmer days in the forecast, so the piles of ice should shrink more over the next few days.

Maybe it's that I'm feeling better physically as my cold wanes, and I'm less stressed now that my partner is back from his trip overseas, but seeing the ice melt like this is a wonderful thing. By my count, spring is 38 days away (March 20th), which puts us slightly more than halfway through winter. I can make it through 38 more days. That's not so long at all.

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February 09

I guess you could call this photo "getting a jump on the day." As I didn't take a lot of photos today, this is about as interesting as today's selection gets.

Frigid cold temperatures will often bring out weaknesses in marginal car batteries, and my car was no exception. Although the battery shouldn't have died, it did. I had it jumped a couple of weeks ago -- thank you AAA -- but the battery wouldn't hold a charge and was in need of replacement. With everything else on my plate, I just didn't have the time to go sit in a dealership waiting for maintenance, and since I had ready access to another car I didn't rush down to the parts store to buy a replacement (you have to dispose of the old battery at the same time, which is environmentally touchy).

However, with Boyfriend home from his trip, I had both the time to take care of this and the need, since he wanted his car back. These battery chargers (cost about $50) are pretty nifty, by the way. You can charge them overnight in your house, hook 'em right up to your battery and jumpstart yourself without help.

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February 08

Boyfriend arrived home from his six-week overseas trip this afternoon -- earlier than expected.

Most of the time, I plan to be at the airport when the plane lands. Then I end up sitting -- well, standing, actually, staring at the doors the arriving passengers exit when departing customs -- waiting for about an hour while boyfriend collects his luggage and clears customs. So today, since I slept late and didn't feel good anyway, I decided not to rush to get to the airport. Of course, today is the day that the United States Customs Service was at its most efficient and the luggage belt was running perfectly.

Poor boyfriend was left waiting about 10 minutes for me to arrive. On the plus side, we weren't parked long enough to have to pay, so I saved $4 there.

And it's nice to have boyfriend home; life just got a lot more pleasant.

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February 07

I got my hair done today.

I'm still sick, but going to the salon and getting my hair cut and styled left me feeling very good. And, not for nothing, but I'm very happy with the results. I haven't had a haircut since July, so I had collected a lot of split ends, and my hair was tangling easily (especially in the back). I went in with no particular hairstyle in mind, only asking the stylist to lose the split ends, to take off as little length as possible, and to shape it a bit so it would look nicer.

Offhand, I'd say that Denise more than met the brief. At the risk of living a cliché, I have to admit it: I feel pretty. :-)

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February 06

There comes a scene in almost any movie with a wrongly-convicted person where they're led to their prison cell, protesting their innocence all the way, even as the door shuts with a mighty final clang.

Pretty Boy must have felt something like that when he got put in the box today to go for his annual physical exam at the vet. He certainly turned on the vocals, yowling on the way to the box, yowling as he was put into the box, yowling from inside the box all the way to the vet, at the vet, and all the way back home. After we got home and he was released, he gave me some dirty looks and a few yowls and mews for effect. Pretty Boy does not like the box; he was one pissed pussycat.

Good news from the vet, too. Pretty Boy is fit, has no obvious ailments, and even has excellent teeth. He's a perfectly healthy 13-year old kitty cat, and (according to Dr. Segal) a charming one at that.

P.S. I was going to title this shot "Pussy Behind Bars," but thought better of it.

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February 05

I bought some stationery a couple of weeks ago, and got a new fountain pen on January 24th. The combination of the two inevitably leads to my writing letters to people. I find a certain ineffable satisfaction in putting pen to paper and composing a personal letter. The result may not be as polished as something I've composed, typed, and copyedited -- my letters are replete with crossed-out words, misspellings, and the occasional illegible parts -- but they take on a certain elegance that a word-processed block of text lacks.

For this letter, I picked run-of-the-mill Crane & Co. stationery and a Pelikan M200 fountain pen with a medium nib. It's a good combination.

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February 04

I've got a cold.

As a person who has the sniffles year-round and feels chilly from September to May, I'm used to being a little snuffly. This, however, is a full-blown, hacking, coughing, sneezing cold. As I've had the flu already this year, I'm grateful that it's only a cold, though I sincerely wish it would just go away.

Theraflu Warming Relief is wonderful stuff when you've got a stubborn cold. I'm sure it's essentially the same stuff as Dayquil/Nyquil, with minor variations in color and taste, but it's been the most effective cold medicine for me for a couple of years now. To me, Nyquil resembles nothing so much as the fluid you see in airplane toilets, so taking a capful has never been a particularly appealing experience. The Theraflu syrup, on the other hand, looks and tastes more akin to the poison that Snow White's stepmother used on the apple -- not great, but infinitely more palatable.

The important thing is that the Theraflu is effective, and manages to beat down the symptoms of the cold well enough for me to function. It doesn't taste great, but it works beautifully.

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