Rethinking fake flowers in bathrooms

The houseboat owner is back in town. She called me to ask if she could swing by and pick up one thing that she needed right now. I was dealing with the movers today so she let herself into the houseboat.

When I got back tonight, I wondered what she thought of the place. I know it is cleaner than how she left it, but I also moved a few things into a closet. In the dining area, I moved a few of her Jesus portraits. I left the 12 portraits that she had hanging on the bulkhead, and moved 4 that she had placed all around the dining table. I have no problems with Jesus. But I didn't feel comfortable having people over to the houseboat with Jesus staring at them while they drink their beers.

I also moved a huge set of fake flowers that she had in the bathroom to the entry room. They were so big that they covered up half of the mirror and just took up way too much room in a tiny bathroom (though they did create a nice visual color balance in the room). Unfortunately the flowers have absorbed the bathroom odor-- even after being out of the bathroom for several weeks, they still smell like the bathroom and make the entry smell like the bathroom.

To describe the odor, I need to first describe the toilet. It is a special marine head that grinds the waste product before sending it to the storage tank. The grinding makes the resulting product smell a little like burnt hair. The bathroom sort of smells like day-old diapers. Most of the smell is confined to the bathroom, though now the entry smells like it because I moved the flowers.

It could be much worse. One of the houseboats that I visited had a toilet that burned the waste product. The entire houseboat had a very strong smell. It was a beautiful boat and I would have loved to live there, but I kept smelling it for the next day afterwards. And it definitely did not smell like roses.

The marine plumbing guys came by and emptied out the waste tank last week while I was at work. Ever since, the smell in the bathroom seems to be noticeably less.

But I can still smell it in the entry with those flowers. I'll move everything back to their original positions before I move-out, but I wonder if the houseboat owner realizes that her fake flowers don't smell anywhere close to real flowers.

Sealeg effect

I've been noticing recently that I sway back and forth when I am on land. I'm not sure if anybody else notices it or if it is just my perception, but I feel like it's hard to walk in a straight line and that I am constantly rocking-- even when I am sitting still at my desk at work.

Starting yesterday afternoon, the water and the houseboat moved around a lot more than I remembered. Since then, I've been feeling especially wobbly on land. Today I saw myself rocking back and forth in the mirror in the ladies room at work.

So my question is, why do all of those pirates and sailors of lore drink so much? Living on a boat is like being perpetually tipsy only without the alcohol. I just imagine that this feeling gets worse with a few bottles of rum-- or maybe not-- maybe getting drunk counteracts the sealeg effect. I think I'll have to test that hypothesis before the month is out.

Shuttling between real life and a Dilbert cartoon

There was a heavy rainstorm in the middle of the night last night and I loved it. I think it's a primal comfort to lay in a warm bed while the elements outside have their way. And because the houseboat walls aren't really insulated, it sounded like I was inside a tent. A bonus in my opinion.

When the rain stopped and I went outside this morning, the air was cold and smelled amazingly clean. It was hard not to feel happy with this amazingly beautiful weather. At work today, several co-workers commented on how beautiful it was outside.

In the midst of a gorgeous Seattle day, there were meetings with some representatives from the 'transition' team at Bristol Myers Squibb. They had scheduled two days for a representative from BMS to meet face-to-face with every single member of the Zymogenetics scientific staff. You could tell that a lot of people wore their nice shirts and slacks for the occasion. We cared enough to try to make a decent impression. However, in the end my face-to-face meeting with the BMS manager was less than 5 minutes long and consisted of him reading me the company script. It was devoid of any real content or warmth. Comparing notes, most of my co-workers had the same experience. The entire scenario was a lot like a Dilbert comic-- or a scene from the movie 'Up In the Air'.

Coming home tonight, I was greeted with brisk Autumn air and a starless dark sky. Now *this* feels real, and everything in those office walls is man-made.

It sure seems colder by the water

It's definitely Autumn in Seattle. The trees are changing color, the Canadian Geese have left, and it's getting brisk out.

Up until today, I have been opening at least one window after I get home. The temperatures haven't been too bad, and it's nice to have the fresh air in the small living quarters. However, the air was so chilly last night and this morning that I could see my breath in the morning. And I had gotten so used to the cold air that the workplace felt toasty today (and my office usually feels a little cool).

I assumed that the houseboat would be cold and damp in the Seattle winter. I've been told by other houseboaters that this isn't true. But I actually think they are just used to the cold and damp air. I actually think that it IS colder and damper on the water.

It's those Seattle micro-climes. I started my morning run before the sun came out this morning and the air was brisk but not that bad. As I headed to the north shore of the lake, the weather started to change and I could see a fog slowly rolling in. My hands started to get really cold and the air got really damp. As I headed back to the boat, the fog lifted as soon as I crossed a drawbridge and my hands warmed up quickly.

I really noticed the difference in temperature when I went into downtown (away from the water) earlier this evening. Just two miles away and it was at least 5 to 10 degrees warmer among the concrete towers than floating on the water.

I know it's just my opinion, but I do believe that it is colder here on the water. And you can quote me on that!

Readjusting

Last weekend I took a last minute trip down to California to visit family (and meet my extremely adorable newborn niece). I returned to the houseboat today and am finding that I have to reacclimate to the boat motion. The up and down rocking of the boat isn't as much fun after a day of plane, bus, and car travel. However, I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow morning after some sleep.

Another thing that I have to readjust to is marine plumbing.

I shut off the water supply before I left the boat for the weekend. The houseboat owner had specifically told me to do this (twice) before she went on her vacation. Turning off the houseboat water is like shutting off a hose on the outside of a house. In fact, the water supply to the boat looks like a garden hose except it is white in color instead of green or black. Turning it back on was as easy as turning the valve to the 'on' position.

I was also told by the owner that most houseboat water problems aren't from water leaking from the outside to the inside. Rather, houseboats can sink because of water accumulation inside of the boat. Something as simple as a dribbling faucet can cause problems because all of the waste water is stored in a tank on the boat, and a full tank can be very very heavy. Plus, an over-full septic tank is not something to come home to!

Unfortunately the on-boat bathrooms smell regardless of what I do. And as I've learned, it smells more if it hasn't been used in a couple of days. The smell is vaguely like the dirty-diaper corner of my brother's garage.

Probably the most unpleasant part of the marine septic system are the toilets themselves. I was told not to throw toilet paper into the toilet since too much volume can clog it. Let's just say that I made sure to use the toilets in the airport before I returned home to the houseboat. It's one part of houseboat life that I really don't like readjusting to.

Yes it moves

Yes, this houseboat moves and I can feel it. It mainly bobs up and down rather than moving side-to-side. It was sort of a weird sensation on the first day and I was wondering what it would be like to sleep with the constant movement.

I've found that the movement on the boat really isn't too bad. The one time that it bothers me is when I'm on land. Every now and then when I'm sitting on my chair at work or standing at the lab bench, I'll feel like I'm on the boat rocking up and down.

What's really interesting are the things that cause the boat to rock up and down. Not surprising, big moving boats create big enough waves to move the houseboat. Sometimes I find that walking across the floor causes the entire houseboat to rock. What did surprise me was that seaplanes in the air would move the houseboat more than seaplanes moving on the water.

This morning I woke up to light rain. I love watching and listening to rain falling. On the houseboat I can also FEEL the rain falling on the water. With the light rain it's actually sort of fun to rock up and down and watch the raindrops hit the water.

Just sitting here writing this the rocking motion is sort of lulling me back to sleep...

The end of Zymogenetics

The reason why I am on a houseboat right now is because at the beginning of last month Bristol Myers Squibb (BMS) announced that they were going to purchase Zymogenetics, the company that I worked for. I was in the middle of buying a house at the time. Not knowing what would happen to my job or if I might relocate, I withdrew my offer. This left me looking for housing.

The idea of a houseboat first came to mind when I looked on a Seattle apartment rental site and saw a link to several available houseboats. The idea clicked. The rental period coincides with the purchase and transition period at the company. I thought that I would embrace this change with a sense of adventure.

What I'm finding is that during this month of transition and instability, I am ungrounded in every way.

We got an all company e-mail this morning informing us that BMS now effectively owns Zymogenetics. The atmosphere at work leading up to this acquisition has been difficult. There has been daily speculation about what BMS plans to do to the Seattle site, what will happen to our jobs, what will happen to our projects, and just plain what will happen. Unfortunately, today's announcement did not provide any more information about their plans.

All I know is that Zymogenetics is no more and even the calming nature of on-water living isn't washing away the sorrow of another Seattle biotech company gone.

Life on Lake Union

Some seaplane photos from the houseboat:







Sunrise:



Early morning calm:






Zymogenetics on the dawn of its last day:

The marina at lunchtime

I got to do something today that I haven't done in at least 8 years-- instead of eating lunch with co-workers, I took a break from work and went 'home' for lunch. Home in this case was the houseboat.

The sun was shining and there was barely a cloud in the sky. When the weather is good in Seattle, it is really good. Today it was simply beautiful.

It was a great day to sit at the dining table eating my lunch and watch the world around me. There wasn't that much activity in the marina. I watched a neighbor pull her boat closer to the dock and re-tie it to the post, and a couple of seaplanes took off and landed. Mostly, I just watched the reflections and ripples on the water.

It was calming and fun to just sit there. Lunch ended way too soon.

It's all about the stuff

Why only a month? It's the most common question I've gotten about the houseboat.

On the practical side, it would be better for me to rent one place for a longer period of time instead of moving every month or two. However, I didn't feel right committing to a year-long lease because of the uncertainty of my work situation (more on that in a future post). Plus, I saw every single houseboat and floating home rental available on Lake Union. This houseboat was the only short term rental. The owners used the rent as a subsidy for their vacation to Greece. Regardless, one month is a good amount of time to embrace the houseboat living experience without committing to it over the upcoming predicted-cold winter. It is only October and the place is already chilly.

Most of the floating homes and houseboats that I saw came furnished and/or were too small to store more than one or two boxes worth of things. Everything that I own and moved from Los Angeles is currently in storage somewhere with the movers. It has been 3 months of living out of a suitcase. I'm a little tired of it. This experience has taught me that I get comfort from being surrounded by my stuff.

When I was moving up to Seattle, and all of my things were boxed up and contained in one moving truck, I realized how much stuff I have. One person should not own so much stuff and I thought that I could easily get rid of 75% of it and still be fine. Afterall, a large number of people in the world live with less than I currently have in my suitcases. But I have to admit that I don't want to live *that* minimally.

And that's one issue with houseboat living. It's living in a small space. This place is stuffed in every possible crevice with the owners' things. Some of it is ingenious-- like the in counter garbage can in the kitchenette. And some of it is odd-- there are linens stored under the cushions of the chairs and couches. In such small spaces there is a fine line between owning things and having a place that could be showcased on 'Hoarders'.

I think the real reason that I care about my stuff is that having it all in one place gives me a sense of home. My home is where I hang my hat... and store my books, and dishes, and artwork, and knick-knacks, and... souvenirs of life!

Day 4: Photos

It's easier to describe this place in photos, so here are some photos that I took on the first day before my clean-up efforts:

Houseboat #8

Dining/Living Area

Kitchenette

Second Level Bathroom

Bedroom

Hand-pump marine head

Access deck from bedroom window

View from the deck

Day 3: Settling in

The first floor of the boat got a thorough scrubbing down today. I scrubbed the floors, disinfected the bathroom, wiped the grime off the walls, doors, and cabinets, vacuumed the rugs, shook out the pillows, and removed heavy dust and grime off of pretty much every surface I could.

The woman who owns this houseboat is an interior designer so it looks cute with lots of color and knick-knacks. Unfortunately she is obviously not much of a housekeeper and all of her interiors and knick-knacks had gathered boatloads (literally) of grime and dust.

Plus it is spider season in Seattle and I've been waging a war with them all day. I left them on the outside, but banished them from the inside. Every now and then one of them would try to make a comeback, but I've been doing my best to keep them away.

The place now feels comfortable to me. It's funny how a good cleaning can do that.

The sun also came out in the afternoon and it felt like the air changed. People started pulling out their boats and more seaplanes have been taking off and landing.

I also checked out the Chinese restaurant that has been hosting those horribly loud banquets. Apparently they have swing and salsa dance nights on Thursdays and Sunday until 11:30 p.m. That leaves only Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights potentially music free. The worst of it all is that the food is overpriced mediocre Chinese food. I can't even justify the noise with good Chinese food.

Now I just need to scrub down the second floor and hose down the deck. Where's a good deckhand when you need one?

Day 2: Starting the adventure of houseboat living

As predicted, the horrible techno-music at the Chinese restaurant went until the wee hours of the morning. By 12:30 a.m. I couldn't stand it anymore and I went over to my landbased apartment and slept there.

This morning, after using the landbased toilet and shower, I went on a nice trail run in the woods and a brunch with some new running friends. I took my first shower on the houseboat afterwards and though it took a minute or two for the hot water to get going, it was otherwise a satisfying shower.

Now I'm sitting here on the first floor typing on the laptop and staring out the window. It's relatively peaceful here during the day, and I imagine it's relatively peaceful here in the evenings that the Chinese restaurant doesn't have banquets. The one main quirk I've noticed is that the boat rocks up and down every time a seaplane takes off or lands on the water.

My plans for the day are to move some more stuff over here and to clean the place a bit. Though the owner of this houseboat is an interior designer, she isn't much of a housekeeper. This place needs some elbow grease to clear the cobwebs and dust. I am an unabashed neat freak and the clutter and dirt are bugging me.

I currently see people kayaking and paddleboarding past the boats. Maybe, if I'm lucky, the sun will come out this afternoon and I can enjoy the view from the deck... then again this is Seattle. I can enjoy the view regardless of the weather.

Houseboat Living- Day 1

I moved to Seattle 2 1/2 months ago intending to settle here and live a simple, routine life. But life had its own plans, and I decided to turn the lemons into lemonade. Or if not lemonade, something a little less sour and a little more interesting.

Here I am on Day One of Houseboat Living. It's not a big place by any stretch of the imagination. There are two levels. The first level has the kitchenette, small living area, and a 3/4 bath. The second level, which I get to by a set of ladder-steps, contains a bedroom 'suite' consisting of full sized bed, clawfoot bathtub, sink, and toilet. The outdoor deck is also on the second level, and it is accessed through the bedroom window.

I've only been here a few hours. So far I've noticed that I actually can tell that the boat rocks a little, that there isn't a lot of privacy and people don't mind it, and that there are a lot of bugs.

At the same time, it's nice to just sit there and stare at the water. I have a great view of downtown, other boats, seaplanes, and the water. Who needs t.v. when you have scenery?

I'm only renting for a month and then I'm moving to a landbased apartment. I have the feeling that I'll be glad that I decided to do this by the end of the month. This isn't as restful a place as I'd like. Right at this moment, there is a party at the Chinese restaurant next to the marina and ridiculous techno-dance-pop music is blasting. I'm tired. Hopefully the party is over soon and I can get some sleep.