Toxic Shame

Imagine my shock and horror yesterday when I read about toxic chemicals in baby shampoo, from Johnson & Johnson! You know, the company that is forever advertising that they are "a family company"? Allow me to quote CTV News...

"Amid pressure from activists, Johnson & Johnson said Wednesday that it is continuing efforts to remove traces of two harmful chemicals from its baby products around the world.

An international coalition of consumer and environmental groups has been pressing J&J since May 2009 to remove two potentially cancer-causing chemicals from products including its signature Johnson's Baby Shampoo, long advertised under the slogan "No More Tears."

Read more: http://www.ctv.ca/CTVNews/TopStories/20111117/johnson-baby-shampoo-111117/#ixzz1eAktPqCF

Wait...cancer-causing chemicals in 'No More Tears'? Apparently the Campaign For Safe Cosmetics found that J&J had removed the two chemicals, 1, 4-dioxane and quaternium-15. This got me wondering...what did the chemicals do that warranted all this attention in the news? Quaternium-15 is a chemical that releases formaldehyde as a preservative. So it's inclusion in shampoo would potentially allow the product a longer shelf life. 1,4-dioxane has been tested on animals (shame on them!) and has been found to be a potential carcinogen. This chemical is a byproduct of ethyoxylation. Various chemicals are processed with ethylene oxide to make them more soluble and in this case, gentler on the skin that's meant to absorb said chemicals. 1,4-dioxane is the result of that process, and it's potentially cancer-causing.

Okay, so we have these two horrible chemicals that were in the most famous baby shampoo in all of North America, and they've been removed, right?

Wrong.

This, from the report from The Campaign For Safe Cosmetics, entitled "Baby's Tub is Still Toxic",

"In countries around the world, including Japan, South Africa and

the Netherlands, whether required by law or not, Johnson &

Johnson has moved away from formaldehyde releasers, while the

company continues to use these problematic preservatives in the

U.S., Canada, China and other markets. . .there's no reason it

can't make this shift globally."

Ok, wait...so Johnson&Johnson took these chemicals out of their baby shampoo in those other countries, but NOT North America?

Why should we in North America not be treated the same as those other countries? Money. The wonderful world of lobbyists, special interest groups and their money influence the governments of Canada and the United States far more than most people realize. Again, from the report "Baby's Tub is Still Toxic",

"The European Union has banned more than 1,100 chemicals from cosmetics because they are known or highly suspected of causing cancer, genetic mutation or reproductive harm. In contrast, the United States bans or restricts only 11 chemicals from cosmetics."

Let me assure you, Canada is never very far behind the States in these kinds of things.

Why are the companies that produce cosmetics and personal care products not required to list the ingredients? We have a right to know what we're putting on our heads, faces and bodies, and even more so with our children! How dare Johnson & Johnson continue to include these chemicals in the baby care products! Generations of consumers have trusted them with our children's skin and hair, and it's bad enough they test these products on animals, but to remove those aforementioned chemicals in just some countries, and not all of the countries that their products are sold is shameful, irresponsible and morally wrong!

At first, I thought, well, maybe another product then? Did you know J&J also produces Aveeno and Neutrogena? Johnson's "Naturals Baby" shampoo does not include 1,4-dioxane, but costs twice as much as their original "No More Tears" shampoo.

But what about the other side of this story? What does J&J have to say in their defence? Susan Nettesheim, Vice President of Product Development and Toxicology says this in an open letter to the director of the Campaign For Safe Cosmetics,

"...the level of exposure to formaldehyde, released in tiny amounts by certain preservatives to keep the products safe from contamination by bacteria, is about the same in an entire bottle of baby shampoo as a person would be exposed to by eating an apple or pear, in which it occurs naturally."

Okay, but what if we were to consider the amount of shampoo we use on our babies and toddlers until they're old enough to use adult shampoo? And what if we consider the amount of chemicals we're exposed to in all other aspects of our lives, through food, plastics covering our food and in our cookware and eating utensils, and so on. A company as large as Johnson & Johnson's should take a proactive and leading role now to get rid of harmful chemicals from all their baby products. Think of the potential advertising possibilities when they can one day claim no harmful chemicals, for a reasonable price and a true concern for their loyal customers. Brand loyalty is everything in today's market, and if a company does not have consumer loyalty, they're in trouble.

My advice for you, do your research and start learning what you're putting on your hair, under your arms, on your faces and in your mouths. Want to know why our kids are suffering from a wider range of allergies? Why the number of cases of all kinds of cancer are on the rise? Why more and more of us suffer with environmental allergies? Why more of us than ever have breathing ailments? Learn what is in the products you eat, clean with, use on our bodies and live with. (Once you find out what's in your carpets, you'll want to tear it all up)

Take a stand against chemicals that these companies are shoving at us.

Take a proactive role, but be warned, you're in for a nasty shock when you start educating yourself.

Sources:

CTV News

Baby's Tub Is Still Toxic

Johnson&Johnson's Statement

The Anari Effect, Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Thanks again for seeing me on such short notice." Miss Morriseau turned at the elevator and shook Dakota's hand.

"Thanks for coming in. I'll be contacting you one way or another to let you know my decision."

Just then the elevator doors opened and Shanis stepped in. She had enough time to smile, and the doors closed. On the way back to the office, Dakota took a side trip into the dining room and picked up two bottles of water and two salads. Teresa was stretching as Dakota left the corridor.

"Feel like a working lunch?"

"Be right there." Teresa gathered her notes, the file folder and a notebook and joined her boss in the inner office.

Once everything had been laid out, and the two of them had gotten comfortable, Dakota asked, "So, did you manage to find anything new for me this morning?"
Teresa opened the file folder that she'd already stuffed with notes, print outs and articles. "Well, coming from a lay-person's viewpoint, I had a pretty limited knowledge of insulation; so I had to start at the beginning."

"Which is exactly where most people are going to start. Good."

"Okay, Insulation falls into four categories: loose-fill, blankets, rigid foam and liquid foam. Each of these has traditionally been used in different areas of a building. The pink batts that we all think of as typical insulation is made from fiberglass, which, as you know is dangerous to handle and hazardous when inhaled. There have been numerous cases of reduced and hampered lung capacity caused by fibrous tissue build up. But there have been advances in manufacturing." Teresa paused to flip a sheet over and take a sip from her water bottle. "All three of the major fiberglass makers wrap their batts now, which results in providing a vapor barrier as well as making the product safer to handle. It isn't safe enough though. Fiberglass is held together by a formaldehyde-based binding agent, which outgases vapors that can, and have caused, eye and skin irritants, and have been linked to cancer as well. Major companies like Owens-Corning have developed formaldehyde-free fiberglass insulation, but it's still pricey. Some have also made higher density batts common in your average hardware store. I had to do some research to understand and compare R-values. If I understand it correctly, the less air circulation space between the fibers of the insulation material, the better the resistance to heat flow and loss. The higher the R value, the better the efficiency."

"Right, so we've traditionally had this pink stuff that most people can't install and makes us and the installer sick! What's the alternative?" Dakota speared a forkful of salad.

"Well, cellulose insulation is environmentally friendly, inexpensive and has a pretty high R value. We seem to be creating a never-ending supply because it can be made from recycled paper and cardboard. It is more resistant to mold, rot and insects and thanks to new developments, now adheres better, reducing settling and improving R-value. In fact, it actually provides more insulation per inch than low-density fiberglass and can be twenty-five percent less in cost than the pink stuff. Assuming of course, that it hasn't been dry-blown and the installer knows what they're doing."

"But what if I'm Average Joe who wants to do what's best for the both the environment, and his family? I need to know all my options." Dakota said as she stabbed a tomato.

"Okay, something else that's making waves is your denim manufacturing waste. It's softer, has an R-3.4 rating and doesn't carry safety concerns to either the installer or the occupant."

"Downside?" asked Dakota.

Teresa chewed before answering. "Cost. It can be as high as 15 to 20 % higher than fiberglass."

"I've seen a type of foam board up on the outside of homes under construction, were you able to learn anything about that?"

Teresa nodded and pushed her glasses farther up on her nose. "It's called expanded polystyrene, or bead-board. It went through a period of disfavor for a while, because a lot of people saw it as a pollutant, but it's actually the least environment-damaging product of all rigid board insulation. It's made of the same material that coffee cups are, liquid styrene beads mixed with pentane or steam. It has an R-value of about 3.8 to 4.4 per inch. There are other types of foam board as well. Extruded polystyrene has a higher R-value, R-5 I believe. It's made with hydrochlorofluorocarbons, which are somewhat safer than the CFC's that we've now banned, but it still releases chlorine atoms when exposed to sunlight."

"But chlorine atoms still destroy ozone." Dakota pointed out.

"Where one CFC molecule will destroy 100,000 ozone atoms, an HFC atom will only destroy 20,000 ozone atoms." Teresa shook her head slightly.

"Not good enough." Dakota stood and stretched.

"I figured you might say as much, so I kept looking." Teresa paused to eat a little more of her lunch and find a specific page in her notes. "Natural builders have been using straw bales as insulation in both attic and walls. To provide fire protection, the bales are coated with clay. An 18-inch thick straw bale wall has an R-value of 42. Sheep's wool has also been used for insulation. Once boric acid as a flame retardant is added, it finds increased acceptance in the market. I wasn't able to find any R-value estimates for it though."

"What if there were a product made of cotton, straw and sheep's wool, mixed with an environmentally safe binder that was also fire resistant?" Dakota mused as she looked out the window.

"There have been some others who thought along those lines too..." Teresa began looking through her notes. "I thought I had...it must be...Let me just go look on my desk." Teresa said as she left the inner office.

A minute later, she came back with the missing notes and a large, brown manila envelope. "Dakota, someone left this for you," she said as she crossed the room.

Expecting schematics, Dakota shook the contents out of the envelope and a photo fell face up. It was an enlarged black and white of a woman holding a little girl of about six, seemingly taken in the 70's. "What a cute little girl! Do you know who it is?" Teresa turned to ask.

Dakota didn't answer at first.

Teresa was shocked to see her boss staring at the photo with tears streaming down her face.

"I want to know who brought this into the building; I'll need that information by end of business. That will be all for the rest of the day. Hold all my calls until then. Thank you." Dakota whispered.

From Preston Agricultural Works to Shantz Foundry

This is a piece of one of the old stone buildings that housed Shantz Foundry, at Fountain St. & Shantz Hill Rd. in Preston, Ontario Canada.

In 1883, the frame buildings of the Preston Agricultural Works were destroyed by fire. P.E. Shantz bought out Abram Detweiler and continued to operate as P.E. Shantz Preston Agricultural Works. New stone buildings were built to house the business. The name Preston Agricultural Works was discontinued, probably by the mid-1890s and the business carried on under the name P.E. Shantz Manufacturer.

By 1909, P.E. Shantz letterhead claimed "Our Specialty is Trucks". P.E. Shantz catalogues featured a variety of trucks (heavy duty warehouse wagons) manufactured for the factory and other commercial trade. Around 1913, P.E. Shantz further diversified into the manufacture of the Howard warm air furnace, company letterhead now stating "Our Specialty is Trucks [and] Warm Air Furnaces. The Howard furnace was another American product for which P.E. Shantz had Canadian manufacturing rights. The company continued to manufacture warm air furnaces for many years. The last dated piece in the P.E. Shantz fonds regarding the Howard furnace is 1941. In addition to trucks and furnaces, P.E. Shantz also made children's hand sleighs, garden benches, garden vases and lawn swings in the years after 1900. These were probably made from waste by-products of agricultural machinery construction. A price list issued by the Shantz Foundry in 1966 gave prices for its line of industrial and commercial trucks, by which time the only product line left.


In the twentieth century, the company name evolved to P.E. Shantz Foundry and finally to Shantz Foundry Ltd. In 1969 Shantz Foundry Ltd. went out of business. The property was purchased by a developer, with plans to build a large apartment unit on the site. The stone buildings were demolished, but the developer's plans did not materialize and in 2002 the site is an overgrown empty lot.

(Information comes courtesy of Robin Shantz, grandson of P.E. Shantz, via Waterloo Regional Museum)

This site is five minutes from my home. I used to wonder what it was when I would avoid all the slag down a hill coming out of a local ravine. Last night, I scoured the internet for the answer. Now that I have it, and I've seen historical photos, I wonder how the "end" of our ravine became so pitched when in the Foundry's day, it was flat.

Nothing as intriguing as local history.

The Anari Effect, The Rest of Chapter One

The preceding part of The Anari Effect can be found here

http://taleweaversramblings.blogspot.com/2011/10/anari-effect-more-of-chap-one.html

The Anari Effect, The Rest of Chapter One

“Good morning, Len.”

“Morning, Miss Anari. You’re here early.” Len smiled as he pushed the elevator button.

“I couldn’t sleep, and as much as I enjoy working at home, I needed a change of scenery, you know?”

“Indeed.”

“I’ll be driving myself to and from work by tomorrow I hope, do I need a parking pass?”

“Yes M’am. I’ll arrange for one and have it sent up. We’ll need the vehicle description, license number and model when it arrives.”

“As soon as the leasing company contacts me with the info, I’ll pass it on to you.”

“Very good.”

The elevator doors opened on the executive floor. “Have a good day, Len.”

“You too, Miss Anari.”

The floor was quiet. She suspected she was one of the few, if not the only one, working at this early hour.

Dakota grinned as she placed a small package on Teresa’s desk, then went into the inner office. The office was peaceful in the half-light. Her little green dragon studied her with calm black eyes, and she winked at him as she gave her mouse a nudge. Dakota’s phone began to play ‘Ode to Joy’ and she knew a text message had come in. It was from Stanton Wells.

‘You have my go-ahead to interview and hire as you see fit. Just let me know your final decision.

Stanton’

Her email was already filling quickly. One from the leasing company caught her eye and she opened it quickly. The car she had requested would be delivered that very afternoon, in red, as per her wishes.

Dakota grinned with anticipation. She ignored the other emails after scanning through the list of senders.

She opened Mozilla and went straight to the website she had been looking at just hours before. She found a contact link and eagerly typed an introductory email to Shanis Morriseau.

‘Miss Morriseau,

I understand that you are currently seeking employment within your field. I work with a company that is interested in speaking with you. There are benefits and substantial perks, and the pay is competitive. If your curiosity is aroused, please contact me as soon as possible.

Dakota Anari, Director of Development & Sustainability.’

A knock at her door shook her concentration.

“Come.”

Teresa came into the office smiling. “Good morning. I wanted to thank you for the gift.”

“It’s nothing.” Dakota smiled. “I saw it and thought of you. It won’t do 120, but it screamed your name when I saw it.”

“My son was envious when I called and told him. He was teasing me that I’m probably the only mother who has a mini Honda Shadow, but I think I heard him say it was cool.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not much, but I’m glad you like it. I think I may have found a replacement for Tukis.”

“Already?” Teresa said.

“Come and take a look at this woman’s qualifications.” Dakota invited Teresa to sit behind the desk. “Did you get coffee yet this morning?”

“No, I just came straight in.” Teresa answered in a slightly distracted voice.

Dakota poured coffee for them both at the credenza and set up a tray with sugar and muffins on the coffee table. She knew Teresa might be reading for a bit, so she settled in on the sofa with a file on insulation.

After a few minutes, Teresa joined her on the sofa and asked, “What are you reading?”

“I’ve been thinking; the cost of building homes has gone up as technology improves, right?”

“Tell me about it. I’m still saving for my first home. My parents paid a third, in cash no less, than what I have in the bank. And it’s nowhere near what I need!”

“My point exactly. And while we’re busy working ourselves to death for the opportunity to own a home, we’re poisoning ourselves too! Do you have any idea how toxic most buildings are? New carpeting, for example. Immunotoxicologists are finding that hundreds of people are reporting feeling sick when exposed to new carpeting for long periods of time. Those people are feeling sick because their bodies are releasing anti-myelin antibodies. Their brains are being damaged in both the frontal lobes and temporal lobes, as well as the base ganglia, resulting in tremors, loss of concentration, loss of motor skills, absentmindedness, interruption of vision, and in some cases of children, epileptic seizures.”

Teresa eyed the broadloom beneath their feet suspiciously. “Okay, so no new carpeting in my house. So I use linoleum and throw rugs.”

“What I’m researching at the moment is alternative insulation. The pink stuff has a reputation for being hard to install, itchy and a respiratory irritant.

“What’s the alternative, though?” Teresa asked as she took a bite from a muffin

“I’m reading about a product that is made from blue jean manufacturing waste.”

“Denim?”

“Exactly. This stuff is a combination of denim scrap, and microscopic olefin fibers.”

“Wait a minute, what’s olefin?”

“It’s made of polypropylene and polyethylene. And I wondered about the environmental impact in production, too.” Dakota held up a hand as Teresa opened her mouth to ask a question. “According to available research, olefin is the lesser of environmental evils right now, and it has applications in all kinds of products. But here, it provides both loft and insulation value.”

“You’ve learned all that this morning?” Teresa asked as she grinned impishly.

Dakota chuckled. “No, I’ve been trying to find alternatives to conventional housing since I went to university. So, what’s your impression of Miss Morriseau’s website?”

“If the woman is half as impressive as her site, she should really be something.”

“Wells gave me the go ahead early this morning to interview and hire as I see fit, so I’ve written her an email. Hopefully, she’ll reply soon.”

“When you say ‘early this morning’, how early is your early?”

“Not too long ago. I actually text messaged him at five thirty.” Dakota sipped at her coffee after answering.

“If I may be so forward,” Teresa asked, “Why would anyone be up at that hour? Do you jog?”

“I had a nightmare at four, so I was already up.”

Teresa’s eyes widened. “What an unholy hour for the horse to visit.”

“I’m sorry…the horse?”

Teresa chuckled. “Sorry, I assume everyone uses the same expressions my family does. A popular sci-fi author wrote a novel in which mares deliver bad dreams, hence the term, night mare.”

“Ah. Very unique. It would have been nice if it had been a horse.” Dakota tossed the file on the sofa between them. “Here’s a project for you; between all the other things you do, if you could find some solid research on alternative forms of insulation, along with their comparative R values, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Teresa rose from the sofa and smoothed her slacks. “Cookies tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds good to me.”

At eleven that morning, Teresa knocked on the inner door and heard the now familiar, “Come.”

Dakota had removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves, and was resting her chin in her hand as she read something on the monitor.

“It’s getting on lunchtime for me. I thought you might like something from the dining room?”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry just yet.”

“Okay. Did you hear anything from your prospect?”

“I got an email saying she would call us this afternoon.” Dakota squinted and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t suppose there’s anything in the building for a headache?”

“I have some Ibuprofen…” Teresa gestured at the door.

Dakota nodded at the implied offer and followed her assistant.

“Are you sure something in your stomach wouldn’t help?” Teresa removed the bottle from her desk drawer and shook two out.

“No, I’m not sure, but I hate leaving research when it’s getting interesting. I’ll live. Thanks.”

She smiled and went back to her office, but left her door slightly ajar.

‘Maybe if I close my eyes for a couple of minutes, the pounding will subside.’ she thought. After practising some deep breathing, the pain did indeed lessen, and when Teresa poked her head in an hour later, she found the Director of Development & Sustainability asleep.

Dakota might have napped for hours if the smell of coffee hadn’t woken her. Yawning, she sat up and found a mug of black coffee and a sandwich on the coffee table.

“Taking care of me already?” Dakota murmured to the empty room.

Teresa knew Dakota was back at work when she heard typing from the inner office, so when the call from Shanis Morriseau came in, she patched it right through to her boss. Of course, right after that, Len called up to announce that he was escorting someone up that needed documents signed.

Teresa greeted them both, and explained that since Miss Anari was on the phone, she would take the papers in, get them signed and be right out.

“Yes, I can accommodate your schedule this afternoon, Miss Morriseau. I’ll let security know to expect you. I look forward to meeting you.” Dakota hung up and took the papers.

“You have a car?”

“I do. Want to come see it with me?” Dakota grinned.

The two women left with silly grins and anticipation written all over their faces.

“Very sporty.” Teresa nodded. “Very cool.”

Dakota circled the cherry red car, nodded and signed the paperwork before handing it over to the leasing rep. “Thank you very much for bringing these over. Len..”

“Yes M’am?”

“Teresa and I will be stepping out for a few while I test drive my new car.”

“I thought you might, M’am.” Len smiled widely. “I’ll have your spot ready for you, as well as your parking pass.”

“Thank you. Oh, in about an hour, there will be a young Native woman coming for an interview. When she arrives, please bring her straight up.”

“Yes M’am.”

Dakota got in the driver’s seat and put the window down. “Do you like ice cream, Len?”

“Pralines and Cream is my favourite.”

“My kind of man.”

“You know, you keep this kind of thing up, and you’ll have a reputation in no time.” Teresa said as she buckled her seat belt.

Dakota handed her the tray with three cones and replied, “I’m quite sure Mr. Tukis might have a few things to say about that.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“He’s not the first to have issues with me.” Dakota put the car in gear and eased out of the driveway. “I’m sure he won’t be the last.”

“Just for clarification, I don’t care if you’re purple, sleep with three headed aliens and live on Saturn’s third ring.”

“Thanks…I think.”

“Seriously, given enough time, I think the noise will die down and folks will forget. I don’t think the majority of upper management will care as long as they can see you’re doing your job.”

“Let’s hope that’s true. I’m not all chuckles and ice cream though, Teresa. I have to warn you, there will be days I’ll be a bitch on wheels.”

“Like you were with Tukis?”

“Something like that. There are days I go without sleep, without food, and then I suffer for days until my body gets back on track. I’m grouchy and rather…unlikeable.”

“Can I ask a personal question?” Teresa asked between licks of her ice cream.

“Certainly.”

“Are you manic in your work habits?”

“Not usually.” Dakota signaled to turn. “But I have times when the crap from my past comes back to bite me in the ass, and it affects my work for a short period of time.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “My childhood was … character building.” Dakota turned into the Wells Corp. parking lot. “So enjoy the good days.”

Down Time

I think that what a person chooses to do in their "down time" says a lot about them. I hadn't really given much thought to my hobbies until last week, during a conversation with Betty. Any of you who have been with me awhile, or read back into the archives of this blog may remember Second Life, the virtual world that we like to build in. Lately, we've been spending more time in Inworldz. It is very much like Second Life, only cheaper and newer, so it's still in it's infancy. But still lots of fun. In Inworldz, I build custom motorcycles. Theme choppers mostly. It's inexpensive fun, when you compare the price of an internet connection to my neighbor's clubbing and drinking fun.

As some of you know, I also enjoy knitting. Lately my needles have been kept busy between knitting for the boys, my pregnant co-workers and friends and now knitting for a homeless youth shelter. The newest thing for the boys lately have been "flame hats". My first one was for S, who wanted his in shades of blue. It's not my best work ever, but he likes it enough that he is rarely seen without it.

Now B has asked for one similar with red & orange flames, with a black top. That one isn't even done yet and now S has requested another skull cap (the style that covers the top part of the ear but does not fold up), only this one in all black. I'm thrilled my boys like hats so much, but I think I need more fingers!

In addition to all this, as you know, I've been writing "The Anari Effect" and researching natural antibiotics, as well as natural breathing aids. There are three of us here with asthma, and Betty's breathing isn't 100% either, so I'd like to give us every edge I can.

Did I say "down time" at the beginning of this post?

Hahahahaaaaa!

Summer Lessons Learned

The growing season here is done and I can honestly say I learned a few things this summer.

This apartment is too dark, too shaded to grow anything here. Anything that needs light anyway. Sage is doing fine, the peas got too cold I think, because they got enough water. Our green peppers are actually growing, and are about an inch long, much to my surprise! My apple seedling died. I'm not sure why. It was watered, brought in at night, and seemed to be doing fine. One day it was green, the next it was dead. My tobacco is still growing, but very, very small. Because the seed is so small, I ended up planting more than I thought I had. Note to self: Next time, be more careful and plant fewer! If there are fewer per pot, it's more likely they'll get bigger.

I was finally able to get some mung beans for sprouting. Now that summer is over, sprouting will probably be my "gardening" for the winter. I'm going to do my best to get a proper light table so that I can start seedlings earlier next spring. I'd like to be able to get lettuce going. Even small homegrown lettuce is better than none!

The compost bucket turned out better than I had hoped, but it needs bigger air holes. I have been trying to borrow a drill from co-workers, but clearly, this is a bigger priority for me than them. So if you are going to make a compost bucket, remember to allow for air circulation!

I never did get those potatoes in a bucket going. I'll plan this for the spring and see if I can't get some grown for the summer. As with the lettuce, even small, homegrown potatoes are better than nothing.

So this summer was not a total waste. The plan was to learn a few things, and I did. My rain bucket got a late start because of our summer-long-drought, but the past month I have been able to water the greenery with rainwater, and I'm sure they're healthier for it.

Never be afraid to try, there is always something to learn from every experience!

The Anari Effect, More of Chap One

The preceding part of The Anari Effect can be found here

and now for the continuation,

“Welcome home, Dakota Mackenzie Anari.”

“Just Dakota, okay? Thanks, Hanna. It’s been a long day.” Dakota shut the door behind her and locked it as she pulled off her boots. “My first day and I shook up the nerds, fired a sexist pig and got to yell my head off. I think I made an impression, Hanna.”

“Indeed.”

The bedroom was warm and inviting. It didn’t take Dakota long to change into flannel pyjama bottoms and a black sleeveless t-shirt with a pink ‘Whose Yo…?’ blazoned across the chest. The feather bed seemed to absorb Dakota, who sighed heavily in contentment. “I’ll say this for Wells Corp., they’ve got great movers. I wonder… Hanna, did anyone bring groceries today?”

“The refrigerator is full.”

“Good.” Dakota padded barefoot into the kitchen where she began pulling pots and pans from the cupboards. In the fridge she found the bottle of wine she’d requested, and wasted no time in pouring herself a glass. “Hanna, some music please. Something soft and classical, I think.”

While she waited for the pasta to cook, she strolled through the rest of the house. She felt a little like a visitor opening doors and peering into rooms. She found the office easily enough, and even as she stepped into the room, she was surprised again at how welcoming the room seemed. The floor was covered in thick, dark green broadloom, the walls were covered in a honey-toned pine and all of her books were on shelves that lined the walls. Even her computer was already set up on the desk.

“Dakota, may I ask a question?”

“Of course, Hanna.” Dakota was studying the placement of her photos on a wall.

“What are you creating in the kitchen?”

“I’m making linguini with a white clam sauce.”

“Do you enjoy cooking for yourself?”

“It depends on my mood. I’m no chef, but I can cook fairly well. Why do you ask?”

“I am attempting to learn your tastes and desires.”

“Ah yes, you were programmed to learn and adapt, weren’t you?”

“That is correct. You have no others coming to live with you?”

“No, Hanna, there’s just me.” Dakota played with the drape and tried not to let the melancholy show in her voice. “Only me.”

“I do not wish to downplay your distress, but your water is boiling.”

“Time to check on the clams anyway.” Dakota left her wine on the desk. “Leave the light on please; I’ll be coming back in here to eat.”

“Very well, Dakota.”

Setting aside her fork, Dakota clicked the mouse again, intent on finding some way to make her idea even remotely possible. For years, she had pursued the idea of inexpensive, environmentally safe housing. The only buildings that seemed to meet her criteria were those created by so-called alternative building methods. Although rammed earth and cob homes were inexpensive, they were still labour intensive and not easily acquired. Dakota wasn’t sure that scraping away soil that was needed for farmland was an ecologically sound method of housing people. The housing was cheap, but at the cost of feeding hungry mouths…

She kept searching.

She read pages on formaldehyde and paint fumes, sick building syndrome and NASA’s living wall experiments, but when she came to an article on arsenic in children’s playground equipment she stopped.

“Hanna,” Dakota rubbed her eyes as she spoke. “What information do your files contain on arsenic in outdoor structures?”

“The most common wood preservative and pesticide used in outdoor structures is chromated copper arsenate, which is 22% arsenic. Arsenic is banned in all agriculture and food uses, but has been exempted for use in wood. One twelve foot long treated piece of wood contains one ounce of arsenic.”

“All of which is alarming enough, but we can’t go on poisoning ourselves. We need to find an inexpensive, non-toxic replacement.” Dakota’s thoughts were interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. “But not tonight. I’m off to bed. Set security alarms, please Hanna.”

In no time at all, she was back in the bedroom and snuggled between the sheets.

“Enjoy good rest, Dakota.”

“Goodnight, Hanna.”

Dakota dreamed she was surrounded by tall, golden grasses, whispering secrets in the wind, with the endless blue sky above her. She was all alone, and yet she felt safe and protected. She began to walk among the grasses with her hands held out beside her, feeling the feathery heads of the wheat stalks as they bobbed and bowed at her passing. She heard birds call out to each other, and answer in thin, reedy voices. She heard the wind blow through the grasses, and it struck her that she had not been this alone for many, many years. She heard someone call out to her then, the sound sharp in the silence, and she turned to see a woman carrying a small child away. The only sound was still the wind in the wheat. The child did not reach out, nor cry, and for a moment, Dakota wasn’t sure she had heard anything at all. But the image of the woman and the child striding away tore at her and choked her with unshed, raw emotion. She heard her name called again and she sobbed for a reason too deep to understand while she stood in the wheat field. But the doors had opened a crack, and no matter how hard she struggled, they would not close again, and she could not get her emotions under control. She wept harder, watching the woman walk away with the girl looking back over her shoulder, and Dakota sank onto the ground, and beat at the earth with balled up fists until the dirt was damp with her tears.

“Dakota.”

“Dakota. It is time to rise.”

“I’m up, Hanna.”

“Are you ill, Dakota?”

“No, just a bad dream.”

“You were…weeping.”

Dakota rolled over and stretched, with her throat feeling raw and ravaged. “I know.” She lay still for a minute, her arm thrown across her eyes, as if this act could shut out the images. After a while, she threw the sheet back and rose, already setting her mind on the day that stretched out in front of her. “Shower on, please, Hanna.”

Even the hot water could not wash away the pain the dream had left behind, time and time again; Dakota had to force her thoughts back to work. Work had been her salvation before, and it would be again.

“Hanna, what time is it?”

“It is four a.m.”

“Cripes, that’s practically the crack of dawn. Better get the coffee perking, Hanna.”

“Do you wish to share the dream that upset you?”

“Not right now. Let’s just get to work, okay?”

Even as she washed her hair, Dakota was saying, “Can you tell me if there are any female engineers currently in our area who specialize in environmental engineering?”

There was only the sound of falling water as Hanna searched the internet for an answer. “The media has reported often on Joan Roebling. She has won numerous accolades for her work in toxic substance removal from water. There is also Shanis Morriseau, who according to her website, is currently looking for work.”

“She has a website?”

“Confirmed.”

“My desktop is on; can you rouse it from sleep mode and bring up the website while I get dressed?”

“I can.”

Knowing she had a few hours before her driver came to collect her, Dakota threw on a grey sweat suit, her mind miles away from the prairie and already wondering if she could find someone to fill Mr. Tukis’ place.

A quick glance at Miss Morriseau’s website gave Dakota the pertinent details.

“Well. She has a wide range of scientific experience.” she said aloud, “She’s 37 and unemployed. I wonder why? Oh, here it is. Contract buyout. Experience with engineering, chemistry and engineering management…as well as environmental engineering.”

Dakota looked at every page of the compact website, wanting to get a rounder picture of the woman behind the scientist. Eventually, she found a photo that depicted a Native woman who looked neither old nor young. Her eyes reminded Dakota of a phrase. “Wise beyond her years.” She had listed her interests as reading mystery novels, painting, music, walks in the woods and collecting. Dakota navigated to another page and began to read about Shanis’s professional accomplishments. By the time five thirty rolled around, Dakota wanted this woman on her team so badly, she text-messaged the President of the company.

‘I have someone in mind to fill Tuckis’ empty chair. Seems like a perfect fit. Need your opinion and go-ahead.’

After including the link to Morriseau’s website, Dakota sent the message and began to search for a local phonebook.

“Dakota, is there something I can help you find?”

Dakota stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Actually, there is, Hanna.” Hanna’s image appeared on the wall.

“As nice as it is, I don’t want to be driven everywhere. I want to be the one in control, but I have a very specific desire. I need to know if there are car-leasing companies in the area that have hybrids.”

“Searching.” After only a minute, Hanna’s image blinked. “I have located an organization nearby that may suit your requirement.”

“Very good. Do they have a website?”

Hanna’s pseudo-face was replaced by the company’s website. Dakota’s finger trailed down the text, through the pictures and through more text until finally she said as she touched one image, “What about that one?”

“The Honda Insight?”

“In red, I think.” Dakota rattled off an email to the company on her computer, and just as she clicked on the “send” button, Hanna again appeared on the wall.

“Dakota, you have not eaten. What are your wishes for breakfast?”

“Flapjacks, real maple syrup, orange juice and fruit salad.”

“There is no maple syrup, real or synthetic, in the pantry.”

“So you do have limitations.” Dakota grinned as she headed for the kitchen.

“And you have an odd sense of humor, Dakota Anari.”

More coming soon!

The Anari Effect, Chap One, continued

The preceding part can be found here...

http://taleweaversramblings.blogspot.com/2011/10/anari-effect-chap-one.html

and now for the continuation...

A knock sounded at her door. “Come.”

“I had to mug a couple of techs for their brownies, but they’ll live.” Teresa smiled.

Dakota took a heavily laden tray over to the credenza and motioned to the sofa. She poured two cups of coffee and took one to her assistant, then settled at the opposite end of the sofa with one leg tucked under her.

“I’m not one of these people that can’t get their own coffee, so don’t expect me to ask you for every little thing I need. I’m hoping that I can rely on you to truly assist me, not do my work for me.”

“Understood.”

“I do have a few questions though. First, I know someone held this office before me; why are they no longer here and I am?”

Teresa took a sip of coffee as she pondered how best to answer the question. “Simply put, stress forced him to take another, less demanding job.”

“He burned out?”

“Pretty much. Wells Corp. management looks at the people who work on this floor to lead the company on the right path for the future. Product design and sustainability have kept this company going for ten years, and we’ve gained a very good reputation among the public. We are as much a household name as GE has been, or Panasonic, or any other name that holds the public’s attention. Now, we want to be the one people think of when they reach for an item that won’t need replacement next year. Your predecessor ran out of ideas. He started drinking heavily, then self-medicating, and his sporadic ideas just seemed to…dry up.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Nine years. I started sorting mail for the techies, and just moved up through departments until I landed here last year.”

“So you must have a good idea of how things work. Do the assistants do more work here than they get recognized for, like most other places?”

Teresa watched Dakota drink from her cup as she replied. “No, we get fair recognition for all the work we do here. The benefits improve as one moves through the organization, and I’m very happy with the pay scale, the perks and my job in general. What about you? What brought you here?”

“My last job was a designer, but it was fraught with inter-office politics and the good old boys club. I would design something that I thought would be hot on the market, but the item that eventually got developed was so down-graded and changed, that by the time it hit shelves, it was hardly my design anymore. After a while, I dreaded going into the office and found reasons to work at home. When I woke up one day, dreading a meeting I had, I knew it was time for a change. Waking up this morning, in a house that talked back was a change.”

Teresa laughed out loud. “I’ll bet. That’s an interesting quote on the wall. Buddha, wasn’t it?”

“I’m impressed. Not many know that without peering at the bottom of the plaque.”

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises, Miss Anari.”

“Oh please, if we’re going to be working together, we’ll need to get past the formalities. Call me Dakota. Tell you what, you tell me something that no one here at work knows, and I’ll do the same. That should break the ice.”

Her assistant smiled, and took a deep drink of her coffee. “All right, I hold a masters degree in critical thinking, one of my strengths is problem solving, I own a Honda Shadow and my biggest thrill is to go screaming down a straight highway doing 120. Your turn.”

Dakota smiled. “Ok, I failed science three times in grade twelve, I prefer drinking from a mug over china, and I have a fear of heights.”

A devilish grin began to spread on Teresa’s face, but whatever she may have wanted to say was cut short by another knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door swung open and a tall man that Dakota recognized as the president of the company stepped in.

“Dakota, you remember Mr. Wells, don’t you?” Teresa said.

Dakota nodded and shook his hand.

“I have some paperwork that needs signatures, so I’ll excuse myself. Good to see you again, Mr. Wells.”

The company president strolled to the credenza and poured himself a glass of water, then occupied the seat that Teresa had been sitting in. “Settling in alright, Miss Anari?”

“Just fine so far, sir, thank you.”

“I realize that we’ve been somewhat vague with you to this point, and I want to assure you that it has been necessary. In your second interview, you may remember, I told you that Wells Corp. designs and creates cutting edge, domestic technology; much like the so-called “smart house” we’ve provided for you.” Stanton paused to sip from his water glass. “But that doesn’t begin to cover what we do. Your house is one of a kind right now, and I admit that we are using you as a test subject in a way.”

Dakota’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue.

“We wanted the opinion and expertise of someone in your field to give us educated feedback on the house, and its programming. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Once I taught it what hot water was this morning, it was fine, but I’m sure there are a lot of…things about the house that I have yet to discover. If I may ask a question?”

Stanton nodded.

“You were never very clear about your expectations of me with Wells Corp.” Dakota observed.

“We’re looking at you for our ideas for the future. Our future products that will allow our domestic customers to live in ease and comfort.”

“So you said in the interviews, but if you could be a little clearer?”

“Your former employer told me you would be full of questions. Very well, we need someone who can come up with the ideas for products that will put us one step ahead of the competition and give our customers a reason to continue to buy from us ten, fifteen or even twenty years down the road. Your idea for the voice activated reading tutor, for example.”

Dakota could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“Your former supervisor, Peter Engle, spoke very highly of your creativity, your ambition and your drive. That’s the kind of person we need here. Someone who is not stuck in the past and can see beyond their own needs, someone who knows what is going to be wanted and needed by the public, and someone who can work with people. You answer to me, the vice-president, and to the Board of Directors. Have you been shown around?”

“I have.”

“Good. I have a meeting to get to, but feel free to knock on my door any time. If you have any questions by the end of the day, just let me know.” Stanton stood up, adjusted his tie and shook Dakota’s hand. “Welcome aboard, Miss Anari.”

Dakota stayed on the sofa, more than a little amazed at her day so far. A knock on the door shook her from her thoughts.

“Come.”

Teresa came into the office and smiled. “Still trying to absorb it all?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Afraid so. But don’t worry, it’ll sink in soon. There are some plans you need to go over and approve.”

Dakota went and sat on the corner of her desk. “Anything else?”

“You have a meeting with your advisors at 1 this afternoon, a meeting with the techs at two thirty, and more paperwork after that, I’m afraid. But look at this way, this is the easy day.” Teresa smiled.

“Great.” Dakota almost groaned, but she couldn’t wait to get to work.

Teresa handed over the files and plans Dakota needed and then turned to leave. “I’ll be back with a carafe of coffee in just a few minutes.”

After the third attempt to decipher the tech’s notes in the margin an hour later, Dakota finally understood that most of the prototype’s wiring was needless. She hit the intercom on the phone “Teresa, where would I find a Mr. Berck in the tech department?”

“I can track him down on the phone for you.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

A few minutes later, the intercom buzzed again. “Miss Anari, Mr. Berck on line one.”

Dakota grinned at the phone. “I thought I asked you to call me by my first name? Thank you, Teresa.” Dakota was all business as she punched the button for line one. “Mr. Berck, Dakota Anari here.”

“Yes, Miss Anari, how can I help you? I don’t often get calls from the head of development.”

“I have a question about the interactive clock prototype. It seems a lot of these wires aren’t needed.”

“That’s true. My notes recommended eliminating most of them, and installing a small battery operated fan, as a cooling unit for the computer chips. If we ignore the heat that those chips and circuits are going to put out, we’ll have product burn-out in as little as two years.”

“I see. If we follow your recommendations, how long do you think it will last?”

“It could last up to ten years with proper care, I believe.”

“Thank you, Mr. Berck, I appreciate your candour.”

Dakota opened a new message window in the company email program, and wrote her first email to Stanton.

‘With regards to the prototype interactive clock currently in development, I believe this may be something worth pursuing. I have spoken to the lead tech, and we agree on a significant change that could increase the product’s lifetime by a number of years. This could be a solid sales tool to market the clock. I will meet with my team later this afternoon, and give you a further update thereafter.’

Dakota then opened up a link to the internet, went to her favourite search engine and began to type.

An hour later, a knock on her door jolted her from her reading.

“Come.”

“Dakota? I’ve just come back from the dining room and I brought you some hot chocolate.”

“Thanks, Teresa. I wanted to ask you something. Have a seat.”

Teresa handed Dakota her mug and settled on the leather sofa.

“What do you know about nanotechnology?”

“Wow, you don’t ask easy questions, do you?” Teresa ran a hand through her short hair and thought for a minute. “I know that nanotechnology is a science dealing with the control of atoms and molecules. I’ve heard the term bandied about a lot in the last two years, but it’s still very much a mystery to most people. Why do you ask?”

“This clock we’re creating…the prototype is too large and heavy for my liking and after my conversation with Mr. Berck, I got to thinking about the possible inclusion of nanotechnology to see if we could replace some of those wires. It turns out that it may be possible, in theory at least, to eliminate some of them by adding Fullerenes to the liquid crystals.”

“What will that do, and what’s a Fullerene?”

“I’m hoping that it will eliminate the need for some of the wires leading to the display screens. A Fullerene is a molecule comprised of carbon, and they can be shaped like spheres, ellipsoids, or tubes. Not too long ago Fullerenes were thought to have potential in binding antibiotics to resistant bacteria, or even deliver cancer-treating drugs in a more reliable way. Unfortunately, a study showed that largemouth bass suffered brain cell damage and liver inflammation when subjected to water with fullerenes present at 0.5 parts per million. After that, the Fullerenes were deemed as not being stable enough for organic purposes. But I’m wondering if we can use their non-organic potential in our work.”

“What are you thinking?”

“If there is a way that we can use nanotechnology to program functions on that clock, without the heat of a computer processor, no matter how small, then we can add reliability and life expectancy to our product, right?”

Teresa nodded.

“If we can go one step further and add a day planner feature to that clock, allowing the consumer to have even more control over their day, then the product is even more desirable. Correct?”

“You’d think so, yes. But if I may play devil’s advocate for a moment…”

Dakota nodded.

“What would the cost of this technology be to the end user?”

Dakota chuckled. “Good question. I’m not even sure if it’s possible. I’m meeting with the brainiacs in just a few minutes. I’ll ask them. Assuming of course that I can find …”

“The board room? I can show you the way whenever you’re ready.”

Dakota retrieved a notebook from her desk, as well as the plans and notes for the prototype clock. “I’m ready.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen..” Dakota held a hand up.

The shouting continued and rose in pitch.

“It’s not possible!”

“Who the hell are you to tell me that my design is over-inflated?”

“You’re not creating any repeat market for the clock like this!”

“You have no right changing a design that took us months…”

“I want to see your credentials!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Dakota slammed her leather bound notebook on the table, and there was a crack mightier than any thunderclap

The room was as silent as an empty church.

“You want to see my credentials? Fine! I’ll email each of you a copy!” A vein throbbed at her right temple as she pinned one of the developers with a murderous glare. “You want to know what gives me the right to change your design, I’ll tell you. The fact that I, not you, am now head of this department! Mr. Wells hired ME to head it because he wanted fresh ideas, not someone who was going to offer up excuses why something couldn’t be done! Now get your heads out of your asses and give me REAL obstacles to my idea or get out!”

Dakota waited with her hands on her hips in stony silence, staring down each man in turn until she came to one in particular. “Judging by that look on your face, I’d say you have a problem with me. Spit it out.”

“I’m not answering to you.”

“You do and you will, Mr. Tukis.”

“I’ve never worked under a woman, and certainly not one of your kind, and I refuse to start now.”

“My kind? What kind would that be?”

“I won’t work under a lesbian.” He spat the words out.

Dakota was shocked for only a moment. “Trust me, Mr. Tukis, the last place I’d expect to see you is under a woman. I’d be surprised if any woman, no matter what her orientation, would have as hateful a creature as you.” She waited for her words to sink in before continuing in a quieter voice. “What I do expect to see however, is you walking out that door.” Dakota pressed a button on the phone. “Teresa, call Len and have him come to the board room, please.”

“You can’t do that to me!” Tukis was on his feet in outrage.

“I can and I will! This is supposed to be a team environment, and you obviously have no interest in being part of a team.”

“I have been here since the company’s inception; I’ll go to the top! Hell! I’ll have your job!”

The door opened and two security guards entered the room. “You asked for me, Miss Anari?” Len said.

“Thank you for coming, Len. Mr. Tukis here will be leaving Wells Corp immeadiately. He is not to return unless the invitation comes straight from Mr. Wells or myself. I will have someone pack his belongings.”

Len and his associate stood by Tukis’ chair. The developer headed for the door, but turned at the last moment. “I’ll have your job for this!” he repeated.

“The dark ages are over, Mr. Tukis. The good old-boys-club is gone, and if the president of this company says you’ll answer to a lesbian, than that’s what you’ll do. But I don’t have to work with anyone as narrow-minded, sexist and ignorant as you are. You think you’ll have my job?” Dakota smiled at her adversary. “I don’t think so. In fact, I think you’ll find your credentials antiquated, your theories out of date and your morals no longer the norm. Good luck finding any job, let alone getting mine.”

When the door had closed behind the men, Dakota turned back to the others and said, “Does anyone else have a problem answering to me?”

No one spoke up.

“Good. Now, I was hoping that I might get some productive brainstorming going here. All of you have experience that I do not, so what I’m looking for are reasons why my idea cannot work.”

One man who had not made a sound through the ruckus cleared his throat.

“Mr. Holland, isn’t it?”

“Miss Anari, I must admit, I’m a little surprised.”

“By what, exactly? My credentials, my sex, or my orientation?”

“That you would seize the reins so firmly and so quickly; actually. I’m also a little surprised that you would ask us to point out obstacles.”

“Well, Mr. Holland, I’m a big believer in getting problems out of the way quickly; both with personnel and from a design perspective. Do you have any thoughts on the prototype?”

“I do, actually. If I may borrow the schematics…”

When they all emerged three hours later, Dakota returned to her office famished and tired. Teresa’s desk was unoccupied, but in the middle of Dakota’s desk was a brownie covered in warm fudge icing, and a note. ‘Congratulations, you sounded great.’

Live Large

I'm going to take a small break from The Anari Effect and survival for just a bit here.

I have recently accepted a facet of myself I was previously in denial of. I do not want to live quietly.

Not really.

I want to live in the bush, yes, but I am not a quiet person; not really. Some of you may know I have knit on and off for some time now and my knitting has really gathered steam over the past few months. I feel differently about it now. I want color, I want form, I want something BACK from my knitting, whether that is a nice piece to look at with cables, or some piece of nature in the knitting, or fabulous swatches of color...something that makes someone sit up and take notice. Even twenty hats knitted for the homeless.

Something that makes an impact.

So how does this relate to everything else?

I find now that I am over forty, I have really started to discover who I am, who I WANT to be. This blog has helped me discover that. What I want to write about, what moves me, what makes me gnash my teeth, what inspires me.

All of you have been a large part of that. You have been my sounding board, my guides.

So now I offer you the following advice:

Live large, don't settle for something you don't deserve. Make a splash, do not meld quietly into the background, stand up for something that you passionately believe in and fight for what is right!

Do good. Find a cause and do some good; no matter if it is knitting for the homeless, volunteering at an animal shelter or elder's residence, fundraising for a debilitating disease....SOMETHING! Make a difference for good and you will always have something to feel good about.

Watch sunsets or sunrises, or both. OFTEN. When we see the beauty in the world around us, we will not waste the time given to us.

Finally, LOVE.

Love the good people in your life, love a pet, love something or someone so intensely that your heart feels it might break. Live in the moment, but learn to plan.

LIVE LARGE.

The Anari Effect, Chap One

As I promised, here's some more of The Anari Effect

The Anari Effect, Chapter One

Dakota held her new I.D security card up to the glass so the security guard could scrutinize it carefully, then nodded and opened the door for her. “Good morning, Miss Anari. First day, right?”

“Yes it is thank you.” Dakota smiled.

“My name is Len; I’ll be letting you in every morning and escorting you to the executive level.”

“Do you do that for everyone?”

“No M’am, just the top ranking folks such as yourself.”

“I’ll bet you’re a very good secret keeper.”

Len only smiled and nodded as he pushed the elevator button.

The elevator was very quiet. There was none of the tinny “muzack” that Dakota expected. Instead dark wood, well-polished brass, wine coloured carpeting and sound proofing weave surrounded her. Dakota glanced at her silent companion, unsure if she should ask the question on the tip of her tongue. Len was a massive and slightly imposing man. He stood well over six feet tall, kept his beard trimmed and his long hair pulled back. He could have checked his reflection in his shoes; they were so polished.

“Something on your mind, Miss Anari?”

“I was just wondering…this elevator, this building…it’s not at all what I expected. Only three buttons?” Dakota pointed to the control panel.

“This is the executive elevator. There are only three buttons because everything you’ll need within this building is on those three floors.” Len pointed at the panel before continuing. “I’m sure your assistant will be able to answer any more questions.”

Dakota nodded. When she had been offered the position, she was told she would be getting an assistant.

“Here we are.” Len said as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened and they stepped into a hallway that mirrored the environment of the elevator.

“Miss Anari? I’m your assistant, Teresa Cummings. She was a slight woman with dancing eyes and an enigmatic smile. Dakota shook her hand and found herself impressed by the confident grip she got in return.

Len took his leave of the women and Dakota turned to her assistant.

“I’ll show you around and give you a tour. Teresa turned and Dakota followed full of curiosity. “There are three washrooms for the women on this floor, and the same for the men. Here is your key.” Dakota nodded and pocketed the silver key.

“This branch of the hallway leads to the executive dining room, but if you’d rather eat in the privacy of your office, they will deliver.”

“Executive room service?”

Teresa chuckled. “Something like that I suppose.” As they turned a corner, she continued. “Down this arm of the corridor are the upper management offices, and down here is a smaller coffee room that most of the secretaries and some of the other assistants hang out and chat when we can.”

“And my office is…?”

“Right down here.” Teresa led the way down a dark-panelled and carpeted corridor that looked like every other one she had shown Dakota.

“It’s all very maze-like.” Dakota commented.

“I’m sure it will all become familiar to you as time goes on. This is your office.” They were standing in front of a dark door with only a single brass plaque on it that read, ‘D. Anari, Director of Development & Sustainability’.

The outer office looked just like the rest of the floor, but there was low music coming from hidden speakers.

“Your office, right?”

“I’ve always liked to think of myself as front-line kind of person.” Teresa smiled. “Your office is through that door.”

“Do we have time for a chat?” Dakota asked.

“How do you feel about chocolate?”

“I’ve always felt it should be a food group.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy with coffee and chocolate, then.”

Dakota waited until she was alone before she turned the knob to her office. She was a little alarmed to see the contents of her previous office, until she recalled the agreement that Wells. Corp would move her belongings. Dakota was immensely pleased to see two large windows that allowed the sun to pour in and spread sunbeams on her tiger-maple desk. Inherited from her grandfather, the massive desk had helped her feel at home, no matter where she worked. Her possessions were all here. Her gel stress ball, the aquarium that housed her Siamese fighting fish, separated by a pane of glass, her little green dragon that she jokingly referred to as her computer guardian sat atop the monitor; even her motivational plaque on the wall that read, ‘With our thoughts, we make the world.’ The only items she did not recognize was a large, tan coloured leather sofa tucked away against one wall, and her brand new computer, which the little green dragon watched over.

Dakota closed her eyes, stood in the sunbeam and breathed in the scent of her new office. When she opened her eyes again, she was smiling.

More to come in a couple of days!

The Anari Effect

I feel like doing something different today, something to continue the creative streak I'm on, something to inspire me even further.

So, in that spirit I offer you...

The Anari Effect

Prologue…

“Dakota Mackenzie Anari, it is time to rise.”

A lump beneath the covers groaned in response.

“That is not an adequate reply. It is time to rise.”

“Go frag yourself.”

“I am unable to find meaning for the word frag. Please provide definition.” The female voice requested.

“Drop it. I’m up.” The covers flipped back and a naked woman sat up and squinted at the light coming in her window. “Who the hell programmed you to be such a nag?”

“Unknown.”

“Figures. What time is it?”

“It is currently six-thirty in the morning.”

“Great, one of the first smart homes in this city, and it’s an early riser. Dakota mumbled to herself as she padded into the bathroom. The shower turned on by itself, and she jumped back. “What the hell?”

“You wish to bathe, correct?”

“Yeah, but how did you know?”

“It is part of my programming.”

Dakota shook her head and stepped into the shower. “YOW! Does your programming tell you about hot water?!”

“Adjusting water temperature…will ten degrees warmer be sufficient?”

“Make it fifteen and I’ll be happier.” Dakota replied. Once the water warmed up, she asked, “Can you self-program this temperature for all my showers?”

“Temperature set.” The house replied.

After her shower, Dakota dressed and strolled into the kitchen. One glance around the room made her aware she hadn’t asked any questions when she saw the house originally.

“If I were a coffee maker, where would I be?” she mumbled as she opened the cupboards.

A small screen above the sink flickered to life and a woman’s visage appeared. She had short dark hair; a heart shaped face and wore a serious expression.

“Who are you?” Dakota asked her.

“I am the representation of this home’s computer, provided to you so that you might be more comfortable here.”

“A hologram?”

“That is correct.”

“Good enough. Now if you could just point out the coffee maker…”

“What is your flavour preference?”

“I take my coffee black, if that’s what you mean.”

The woman on the screen glanced to her left, and Dakota’s eyes followed. She was only slightly surprised to see a small panel slide up into the wall and a steaming mug waiting inside an alcove. It smelled good, and tasted even better.

With coffee in hand, Dakota toured the house to get a better look than she had the night before. A driver had picked her up from the airport, and gave her the key to the house, but had been very vague on just what the house could do. Dakota had only taken the time to lock up, strip and get into bed. Her preliminary information had revealed the house had interactive speech capabilities, but the pamphlet had only hinted at interactive gems yet to be discovered. Dakota assumed her new employers expected her to discover the home’s capabilities on her own.

The kitchen was spartan at first glance. The counters were a pseudo-marble, the sink a standard chrome, as was the stove and refrigerator. “I remember reading the manufacturer’s information for this house, but if I’m supposed to interact with you, what do I call you?”

“I have been designated as HnnA 36.”

“Hmm. You are familiar with my name, and the designer didn’t give you a human designation, so I’m going to call you Hanna.”

“That is acceptable.”

“So tell me, Hanna, what do I need to know about you?”

“Please specify the request.”

Dakota sighed heavily. “Very well, who designed you?”

A small screen in the dining room wall flickered to life, and Hanna’s hologram appeared. “I was designed by Wellington Coriolis and built by his private construction company. I am the only one of my kind recorded. I have a level of intelligence and programming that is unique to smart homes. I am … singular.”

“Almost sounds like bragging, Hanna.” Dakota smiled. “What can I expect?”

A moment after the question had been asked, one of the windows darkened and showed a picture, which then morphed into a local newscast.

“Impressive.”

The picture morphed again, but this time into a bar graph, that reflected the home’s various functions and requirements. Dakota had only a few heartbeats to study the window before Hanna’s face appeared in place of the graph. “You are about to have a visitor.”

“Dare I ask how you know?”

Hanna replied by showing a shot taken from the security camera at the front door, showing a man pushing the buzzer.

“He will hear you if you address him from here.” Hanna’s voice came from the ceiling.

“What can I do for you?” Dakota asked the man’s picture.

“Miss Anari, my name is Neil. Wells Corp has sent me to drive you to work today.”

“I’ll be right out.” Dakota turned back toward the kitchen, with an empty coffee cup that she didn’t remember draining. “I’m going to assume there’s a dishwasher here somewhere.”

The dishwasher door opened at a command from Hanna.

“Hmm. A super smart home, a mysterious and lucrative job, and a driver. I think I might like it here.”

More to come, stay tuned!

Rabies Comes To the 'Hood

Rabies came to our neighborhood this weekend.

We spotted a raccoon lumbering slowly around our end of the street, obviously confused, in broad daylight. We knew something wasn't quite right with the poor animal. Thankfully, we weren't the only ones to see him...her. Someone else was keeping an eye on it and had called someone. So we advised the kids they would be staying indoors, and we were very careful when we took the dogs out at night.

Honestly, I thought it wouldn't live to see the next sunrise the way it was walking around, probably in search of water which we don't have a lot of lying around.

Last night we clipped the dogs to their leads, took up our very-bright flashlights and carefully set off keeping an eye out under bushes and in tall grass.

We hadn't even hit the end of the street when a police car slowed down to ask if we had called them. We told her we hadn't and she told us someone had called about a rabid raccoon.

Great. Damn.

So we turned around and started for home and hadn't made it half way home when a neighbor called out and asked us where the police had gone, he had the coon in his light. This particular neighbor is in a bad way health-wise and gets around in one of those motorized scooters, so he sure wasn't going to jog after the police. So I took the dogs home while Betty went for the cops. I stayed close to the apartment, but I could see the action. I watched the cops find the guy's headlight, then they saw the coon, and it wasn't two breaths later that I heard shots ring out and slam their way across our little apartment complex. I think I heard four, but Betty was closer and she thought the cop emptied their gun. Understandable when a rabid raccoon is making it's way toward you!

This neighborhood has a lot of kids, a lot of dogs and a lot of squirrels. Rabies isn't fun, anywhere, but with this many animals and people crammed into a small neighborhood...it's not wise to take chances. So the large, suffering raccoon was put out of it's misery. While I feel bad for it, I know enough about rabies to know that gunshot was a kinder and quicker way to die than a slow disease that the poor animal had already suffered with.

I'm thinking about writing a letter to the police department, thanking them for their actions. It may have been a small thing to them, but my home, my kids and my dogs are safer for it.

Northern Ontario, Scottish Moors and Sweaters

I used to see knitting as a winter hobby. Winters up north are fierce and harsh, and naturally drive people indoors. It is the season of fires in the hearth, early evenings, Northern Lights and ice so beautiful it takes your breath away...or maybe that's just the frigid air. Winter is the season of creamy soups, hearty stews accompanied by warm, buttery homemade bread. It is the season of mittens, scarves and sweaters that you can't help but snuggle into, knitted socks in wild colors that hug your feet and give your soul a warmth no store-bought sock can ever provide. For me, winter is the season of knitting. Every winter I get the itch to do something creative, something different. This fall the bug that's bitten me has been Fair-Isle and stranded work, and cables. Which led to Alice Starmore. (That's one of her many designs upper left: St. Brigid) My ancestry is partly Celt, which occasionally shows itself in my love of wild, barren places, Celtic music, historical art and Celtic Saints and mythology. So it is no surprise to me that this autumn I am drawn to knit Celtic knots, braids and cables.

The Northerner in me likes colour, whether it be the dusky greens and greys of tree moss, the blues of water or the vibrant hues of autumn when the leaves begin to turn... my soul feeds on it. So while my DNA says that an Aran sweater MUST be knitted in shades of cream, the rest of me yearns for a sweater that snaps, that pops, that says "HERE I AM!"

Now, all I have to do is knit one.

After I learn how to knit a cable, follow a pattern and stick with it long enough to produce a sweater.

Pins, Needles, and What's On Mine

I'd like to apologize to everyone who has been checking for an update. After months of being vigilant with the blog...September just kicked me hard I suppose. There was a variety of reasons for this, but suffice it to say that I needed a break.

So this morning I'm the only one up here; even the dogs went back to sleep. I'm enjoying the quiet time and getting some knitting done. On one set of needles I have a winter hat with blue flames for S. On another set of needles I have a mitten for B. On yet another set of needles I have a 4" X 4" square for a baby blanket. It seems that 3 young ladies we know are expecting, two in May. So we've been busy knitting and crocheting here. It's that time of year too where I start knitting hats and scarves for the homeless and financially challenged. All of which ought to keep me quite busy if it were not for the beginnings of carpal tunnel syndrome!

When the tingling in my hands got bad, I suspected that's what it might be. Google only confirmed it: pins and needles, weakness, loss of grip in the the first two fingers, pain in the hand....none of which help a knitter finish the dozens of projects on her to-do list. So now I'll be exploring the alternatives to surgery; heat and cold, wrist braces, frequent rests, anti-inflammatories, anything that will relieve these damn pins and needles!

What do you do for fun, what are your hobbies? I find it to be revealing what others do in the spare time. Do you knit? Bowl? Golf? Read spy novels? Make wicker furniture? Let me know in the comments section while I get breakfast...let's see, there's homemade bread...cereal....hmmm.