Process improvement

Saturday: Process improvement is a big part of the work we do on our government contract. That's actually the case on most government contracts. The Feds love nothing more than to have people tell them what to do, and how to do it, so that's what we do all day. It pays the bills.

Naturally, I have been thinking about how I might apply process improvement principles to other areas of life--cookies, for instance. If I, with limited knowledge, can help to improve IT management processes, then why can't I improve cookie baking, a process about which I know quite a bit? Yes, it's cookie-making day; and if you have been hanging around here for any length of time, then you know how I feel about cookie-making day.

Back to the process improvement. Last night I thought that it might be a good idea to make the dough (the worst part of cookie-making) and refrigerate it, so that I'd then have only the baking part to do today. That was one of the best ideas I have ever had. Then, on the recommendation of my cousin, I bought a melon-baller to scoop out the cookie dough. Genius! I had also already bought additional cooling racks, and two of the largest cookie sheets I've ever seen. They just fit into the oven, and can easily accommodate 36 cookies each, so I can put 6 dozen cookies in the oven at one time. So with pre-made dough, a kitchen full of cooling racks, giant baking sheets, and a melon-baller, baking time was just about two quite painless hours. The last batch is in the oven now.  See you next year, cookies. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

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Sunday: It's December 23; or Christmas Adam, as we like to call it. I'm on vacation now, kind of. I still have some work to do, but I won't actually return to the office until January 2. I hope that the shutdown will be over by then; but if not, I hope that the President is stuck in Washington for the whole week. Vindictive, aren't I?

I overindulged in cookies yesterday, so I'm sticking with fruit today. Actually, I only ate two cookies yesterday, but I ate the equivalent of at least a dozen more in cookie dough. The CDC says that I should avoid cookie dough like fentanyl or second-hand smoke, but what do they know?

Maybe we SHOULD shut the government down. I mean, really.

So today, I'm substituting clementines for cookies. I love clementines. They're very Christmas-y to those of us who grew up at a time when certain fruits were only available in season.

When I was very young, I lived in a tiny apartment in my hometown of Philadelphia. I worked for a printing company at 9th and Arch, right around the corner from Reading Terminal Market, where we often went for lunch. I used to go there after work, too, to buy fruit and Italian bread and cheese that I would carry home on the subway, feeling very grown-up and independent with my gourmet groceries.

Clementines were new to me. At that time, they were only available in December and January, but we never had them at home. It was the early 80s, and neighborhood supermarkets didn't have much variety in produce. Iceberg lettuce, broccoli and corn, white potatoes, carrots and onions, and fruit--oranges, apples, bananas, and grapes, with strawberries and peaches and cherries in the summer. The Reading Terminal Market clementines in their cute little wooden crates were a novelty. I hated winter then just as much as I do now, and clementines tasted like warmth and sunshine. Plus, I had leftover teenage acne that persisted into my twenties, and I was convinced that clementines had an astringent effect.

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It's Christmas Eve, and we have no real plans other than Mass at 6 PM and an 8 PM showing of "Vice." We like going to movies on Christmas Eve, and this was the only one that we could all agree on. Needless to say, the J-Lo sexy middle aged lady romantic comedy was not among the options. Zero stars.

I worked this morning, though I was technically supposed to be on vacation. Now, I'm going to just eat another clementine, and maybe a cookie or two, and watch "The Family Stone," another of my favorite bad movies. Tomorrow, we will open presents and eat ham and sit by the fire and stuff ourselves with cookies and do everything else that 21st century middle-class Americans do to celebrate the birth of the Savior.

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Wednesday: It was a lovely Christmas. Now it's December 26, and we're deep into Christmas vacation mode. I worked again this morning, but only for a little while. Then we went to the Renwick Gallery, and walked around President's Park and the Ellipse. We hadn't been to see the National Christmas Tree since 2014 or so, but we used to go every year when our children were little. "This is the most nostalgic thing ever," said my 17-year-old as they posed for the obligatory picture.

They're wearing Christmas presents. 

It was a beautiful day, sunny and winter-mild; just chilly enough that I needed a coat (because I always need a coat) but not so warm that it was too hot to walk around wearing it. The streets were crowded with other families on Christmas vacation, visiting museums and drinking coffee from holiday-themed Starbucks cups and taking pictures in front of the White House fence. We walked to Chinatown for a late lunch at our favorite pub, and then came home after dark. It's 10:30 PM now, and we just finished some leftovers in front of "Good Will Hunting" on Netflix.

We have been working very hard lately. Even on days off, we're very busy. Even on vacation, we tend to stick to a routine.  A few days of actual stay up late, eat whatever (and whenver), go places just for the sake of going, watch bad movies, bona fide vacation is exactly the thing.

Next week, I'll return to waking up early and sticking to the plan and improving the process. Hopefully, the government will come to its senses and reopen the parts that are closed. But that's next week. Right now, I think I'll have another cookie.