8.31.2013
8.30.2013
Password Management
I hate passwords. More accurately, I hate password maintenance policies.
I understand the significance of passwords, and the ever important need of strong passwords. Almost all of my personal information is stored online in one way or another; my health records, bank statements, emails, photos, etc. Any combination of these can provide access to even more information over time. Password-cracking programs have grown sophisticated over the years, and increased processor speeds mean even a basic laptop is capable of cracking a simple password in a matter of hours.
I get it. I need a strong password. I even get why I need to change them from time to time, and why I need different passwords for different sites.
But it is just SO difficult to remember which passwords I use for various sites. And it becomes even more difficult to remember which passwords I've used in the past.
My company, like almost all companies, has a policy on how long passwords need to be, how many different kinds of characters they need to have, and how infrequently I can reuse passwords. I won't post the actual policy here; I would hate to offer hackers any real visibility into the nature of passwords at my company, but I assure you that the rules are complex.
I had to change my password today to comply with the policy. No... it isn't 12345. That would be the combination to the air vault in Spaceballs.
Since changing my password this morning, I have already forgotten to type it a handful of times. I keep trying my last one. I usually get to the point just before I hit enter when I realize I changed it.
My backspace key is getting a workout. Having Monday off for Labor Day, it will probably take me all of next week before the new password becomes rote.
Just in time for me to change it again.
I understand the significance of passwords, and the ever important need of strong passwords. Almost all of my personal information is stored online in one way or another; my health records, bank statements, emails, photos, etc. Any combination of these can provide access to even more information over time. Password-cracking programs have grown sophisticated over the years, and increased processor speeds mean even a basic laptop is capable of cracking a simple password in a matter of hours.
I get it. I need a strong password. I even get why I need to change them from time to time, and why I need different passwords for different sites.
But it is just SO difficult to remember which passwords I use for various sites. And it becomes even more difficult to remember which passwords I've used in the past.
My company, like almost all companies, has a policy on how long passwords need to be, how many different kinds of characters they need to have, and how infrequently I can reuse passwords. I won't post the actual policy here; I would hate to offer hackers any real visibility into the nature of passwords at my company, but I assure you that the rules are complex.
I had to change my password today to comply with the policy. No... it isn't 12345. That would be the combination to the air vault in Spaceballs.
Since changing my password this morning, I have already forgotten to type it a handful of times. I keep trying my last one. I usually get to the point just before I hit enter when I realize I changed it.
My backspace key is getting a workout. Having Monday off for Labor Day, it will probably take me all of next week before the new password becomes rote.
Just in time for me to change it again.
Grayson: First Blood
As a parent, you are theoretically aware that certain things will most certainly happen throughout the course of your child's life. They will walk and talk. They will go to school. They will learn to drive, then they will get into a car accident. They will fall in love (hopefully) and have their heart broken. They will learn and grow; they will make mistakes. They will fall. They will scrape a knee. They will bleed.
But nothing can quite prepare you to see their blood for the first time.
Last night, Stacy and I were preparing to head out to the State Fair for a second time this year. We were going to take Grayson back, so he could see some things he hadn't seen yet, and so we could see some things we didn't get a chance to look at with a full family in tow. I was trying, as quickly as possible, to change into some shorts and pack Grayson's diaper bag. Stacy was upstairs changing. I did what I've done a hundred times; I put Grayson down on the floor of the family room in front of his toys. I didn't think twice about him. I was on the couch about to put on my shoes when I caught him from the corner of my eye toppling over an inflated cylinder (with bells that jingle as you roll it).
Grayson fell face first into the carpet. I think his pacifier may have been in his mouth. He stopped his fall with his teeth. There was a slight pause. Then he began to cry, face still buried in the carpet. Stacy had come back downstairs by now, and she picked him up to comfort him. At this point, neither of us thought he had hurt himself. I'm sure he falls at least twice a day.
But then I looked at his face. There was blood on both sides of his mouth. His gums were bloody. One of his front teeth looked off, but it might have just been the blood. I tried not to panic. After we cleaned him up a bit and gave him some ibuprofen, I called our dentist. I was reassured that these things happen, and that his teeth are probably just fine. Even better, our dentist will be up north this weekend should we need to have Grayson checked out. (I love Dr. Pink by the way... great dentist. Crimson Dental in Maple Grove.)
So we can check a new milestone off the list. Grayson: First Blood - August 29, 2013.
I think we all survived.
But nothing can quite prepare you to see their blood for the first time.
Last night, Stacy and I were preparing to head out to the State Fair for a second time this year. We were going to take Grayson back, so he could see some things he hadn't seen yet, and so we could see some things we didn't get a chance to look at with a full family in tow. I was trying, as quickly as possible, to change into some shorts and pack Grayson's diaper bag. Stacy was upstairs changing. I did what I've done a hundred times; I put Grayson down on the floor of the family room in front of his toys. I didn't think twice about him. I was on the couch about to put on my shoes when I caught him from the corner of my eye toppling over an inflated cylinder (with bells that jingle as you roll it).
Grayson fell face first into the carpet. I think his pacifier may have been in his mouth. He stopped his fall with his teeth. There was a slight pause. Then he began to cry, face still buried in the carpet. Stacy had come back downstairs by now, and she picked him up to comfort him. At this point, neither of us thought he had hurt himself. I'm sure he falls at least twice a day.
But then I looked at his face. There was blood on both sides of his mouth. His gums were bloody. One of his front teeth looked off, but it might have just been the blood. I tried not to panic. After we cleaned him up a bit and gave him some ibuprofen, I called our dentist. I was reassured that these things happen, and that his teeth are probably just fine. Even better, our dentist will be up north this weekend should we need to have Grayson checked out. (I love Dr. Pink by the way... great dentist. Crimson Dental in Maple Grove.)
So we can check a new milestone off the list. Grayson: First Blood - August 29, 2013.
I think we all survived.
8.28.2013
Wednesday... or Tuesday. I'm behind!
I threw this particular post up on Wednesday as a placeholder. I failed to do even that on Tuesday.
The week has quickly flown by, every night seeming busier than the last. It really just boils down to the fact that I haven't carved out time during my evenings to write anything. By the time I'm able to sit down and write, my eyes are heavy, and all I want to do is veg out or go to sleep.
I'm hoping that I can get back on track this weekend, but we are headed to the fair tonight then up to the lake tomorrow, so who knows when I will find time.
I think I'm 3 posts behind, but I'll double-check.
Overall, though, I think I've managed to accomplish my goal, at least for the first 3+ months. I'm writing almost every day, and I feel good about that.
The week has quickly flown by, every night seeming busier than the last. It really just boils down to the fact that I haven't carved out time during my evenings to write anything. By the time I'm able to sit down and write, my eyes are heavy, and all I want to do is veg out or go to sleep.
I'm hoping that I can get back on track this weekend, but we are headed to the fair tonight then up to the lake tomorrow, so who knows when I will find time.
I think I'm 3 posts behind, but I'll double-check.
Overall, though, I think I've managed to accomplish my goal, at least for the first 3+ months. I'm writing almost every day, and I feel good about that.
8.26.2013
The Smell of Death
Today, the temperature reached 98 degrees in the Twin Cities setting a record high for this date that had lasted 65 years (1948). With the heat index, it felt closer to 110 degrees. The low for the day was 79 degrees. This is my way of saying today was HOT! It was the kind of heat that takes your breath away, and it makes me so thankful that I can afford air conditioning.
But not everyone can afford it, nor do they have the means to stay cool. Heat-related illnesses were reported throughout the state today, and I wouldn't be surprises if a few people actually died from it.
Animals are no strangers to heat-related deaths. Including some sort of small animal that made its way into my attic but couldn't make its way back out.
Stacy and I got home to find the upstairs bathroom permeated with a stench that can only be brought about by rotting and heat. It was stronger closer to the ceiling. Something had clearly died in the attic, and the heat wave was cooking it in the rafters.
Our first thought was something crawled into our vent stack, so I climbed up on the roof, covered in black shingles, while the air temperature was still well above 90 degrees. Much to my dismay, I didn't find anything but a clear pipe. I went back inside, grabbed a glass of water, and I mentally prepared for the task ahead of me.
I was heading up into the attic.
When temps push 100 degrees outside, even a well-ventilated attic will get into the 120s and 130s. Because we have blown fiberglass insulation in our attic, I needed to make sure I was covered head to toe before I went up there. I put on some jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and some gloves. I wriggled my way up a ladder in my closet through the access point and into the sauna of darkness. Our roof pitch isn't tall enough for me to stand, so I crawled from the access point to the ceiling above the bathroom. The insulation not only kept the searing heat from my house, it also kept any odors at bay... this is both good (in that I didn't throw up in my attic) and bad (in that I couldn't use my nose to locate the carcass).
After searching for maybe only 10 minutes, I had to get out of there. I was a puddle of sweat, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was unable to find whatever had died buried in the insulation. The only thing I can do for the rest of tonight is bring some coal into the bathroom to act as an odor-eater.
Pray for me that I'm able to find it without tearing into my ceiling. Pray for the soul of this little creature that it act as a warning to its family and friends. Pray for this heat wave to pass...
But not everyone can afford it, nor do they have the means to stay cool. Heat-related illnesses were reported throughout the state today, and I wouldn't be surprises if a few people actually died from it.
Animals are no strangers to heat-related deaths. Including some sort of small animal that made its way into my attic but couldn't make its way back out.
Stacy and I got home to find the upstairs bathroom permeated with a stench that can only be brought about by rotting and heat. It was stronger closer to the ceiling. Something had clearly died in the attic, and the heat wave was cooking it in the rafters.
Our first thought was something crawled into our vent stack, so I climbed up on the roof, covered in black shingles, while the air temperature was still well above 90 degrees. Much to my dismay, I didn't find anything but a clear pipe. I went back inside, grabbed a glass of water, and I mentally prepared for the task ahead of me.
I was heading up into the attic.
When temps push 100 degrees outside, even a well-ventilated attic will get into the 120s and 130s. Because we have blown fiberglass insulation in our attic, I needed to make sure I was covered head to toe before I went up there. I put on some jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and some gloves. I wriggled my way up a ladder in my closet through the access point and into the sauna of darkness. Our roof pitch isn't tall enough for me to stand, so I crawled from the access point to the ceiling above the bathroom. The insulation not only kept the searing heat from my house, it also kept any odors at bay... this is both good (in that I didn't throw up in my attic) and bad (in that I couldn't use my nose to locate the carcass).
After searching for maybe only 10 minutes, I had to get out of there. I was a puddle of sweat, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was unable to find whatever had died buried in the insulation. The only thing I can do for the rest of tonight is bring some coal into the bathroom to act as an odor-eater.
Pray for me that I'm able to find it without tearing into my ceiling. Pray for the soul of this little creature that it act as a warning to its family and friends. Pray for this heat wave to pass...
Date Night
Saturday night, Stacy and I were surprised with a date night! I don't remember how long it had been since we had gone out for a nice dinner, just the two of us... we made last-minute reservations at 8:00 for Sunsets in Wayzata (pronounced why-Zet-ah for those of you out of state). We ate outside on the patio, our table facing Wayzata Bay on Lake Minnetonka. I had a ribeye; Stacy had shrimp. Adult beverages were consumed, and we actually had an adult conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.
How did this come about? I have a very flexible mother and aunt!
Stacy and I will be taking a trip in October to visit my sister, Jen in New York City. Even though Jen has lived there for five years already, we haven't been out to see her yet for a whole host of reasons (excuses). The trip is long overdue. My mother and aunt have agreed to watch Grayson while we are away, but they had not yet experienced the joy of an overnight with Mr. G. A few weeks back, they asked to have a trial run or two before our trip. Stacy and I agreed that this was a wonderful idea for many reasons, one of which being a free date night.
Looking over our calendar, even though we were doing the fair, Saturday was the best night for everyone involved, especially if we wanted to do a second trial run. I just forgot one simple thing: I tell my mom. Oops. Walking around the fair in the morning, my mother-in-law asked me what Stacy and I were doing that evening sans child. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but it dawned on me. Then it hit me that I hadn't confirmed in any way, shape or form yet. Bad son. As soon as I got my mom on the phone, though, she (and especially my aunt) were thrilled to get a chance to take Grayson for the night.
I'm so blessed to have such a wonderful family (both sides) who live close and love Grayson so much.
The night went off without a hitch.
Someone remind me to schedule trial run #2 in advance....
How did this come about? I have a very flexible mother and aunt!
Stacy and I will be taking a trip in October to visit my sister, Jen in New York City. Even though Jen has lived there for five years already, we haven't been out to see her yet for a whole host of reasons (excuses). The trip is long overdue. My mother and aunt have agreed to watch Grayson while we are away, but they had not yet experienced the joy of an overnight with Mr. G. A few weeks back, they asked to have a trial run or two before our trip. Stacy and I agreed that this was a wonderful idea for many reasons, one of which being a free date night.
Looking over our calendar, even though we were doing the fair, Saturday was the best night for everyone involved, especially if we wanted to do a second trial run. I just forgot one simple thing: I tell my mom. Oops. Walking around the fair in the morning, my mother-in-law asked me what Stacy and I were doing that evening sans child. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but it dawned on me. Then it hit me that I hadn't confirmed in any way, shape or form yet. Bad son. As soon as I got my mom on the phone, though, she (and especially my aunt) were thrilled to get a chance to take Grayson for the night.
I'm so blessed to have such a wonderful family (both sides) who live close and love Grayson so much.
The night went off without a hitch.
Someone remind me to schedule trial run #2 in advance....
Grayson's First Fair!
Here is Grayson entering the fair:
Here is Grayson waiting for roasted corn on the cob! (Breakfast of champions!):
Grayson taking a much-earned late morning nap!:
Grayson watching his Grandfather's alma mater's marching band start the afternoon parade outside the dairy building. (Malts and Sundaes were had...):
Grayson couldn't leave the fair without getting some cheese curds!:
Grayson had a wonderful day, as did the whole family. His favorite part of the fair was definitely the horses. He was enthralled with such large, beautiful animals. He may just ride them one day, as his mother did when she was younger. He also met a goat named Drake who was ultra charming.
His second favorite part of the fair? People-watching... of course.
My favorite part of the fair? Watching my son take in all the sights, sounds and smells... a perfect day!
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