Wool brunch

It's Sunday in the middle of a three-day weekend. So, you'd expect me to take the day off from work and enjoy the time off. Thanks to my job, however, I've become one of the retail industry voices on wool and animal welfare - at least to a group of Australian wool farmers who are trying to promote their progressive farming practices. And when the CEO of an organization representing a group of Australian farmers is in Boston for only seven hours, it's only polite for me to make time for him.

Thus, I trekked down to South Station, met this fellow when he arrived, and went to a nearby restaurant to discuss sheep. During the course of our conversation, it became clear that he added a Boston stop only to meet me, so I'm glad I didn't blow him off like I wanted to!

In the end, it was a good conversation, I got a free brunch and a nice bottle of Australian wine, so it was time well spent. I just wish he could have made his trip during business hours.

Cat people

Walking home after dinner with Reebs and her husband, Puppy and I were discussing our cat nanny, the lady who visits with Stefano Di Mera and Victor Kiriakis when we're both out of town. We described how she got around with a cane, loves to eat the sweets in our home and leaves cards describing how she spends her time with the cats.

Just seconds after we discussed the nanny, we heard a lady exclaim, "Hello cat people!" and lo and behold, it was her! She was making her way down the street, wrapped in a black wool coat, a hat and a fur muffler around her neck, which she said was "a former client." Cane in hand, she intercepted us, gave us hugs and asked what special treats we'd leave for her during her Christmastime visit. She complimented Puppy on the banana pudding he made when she last visited.

I don't know how I feel about being referred to as "cat people" in the neighborhood.

Boys for sale

For my last day on wool duty, I went to Wellington to observe a ram auction, wherein stud breeders sell their 2-year-old boy rams to other farmers who believe the rams' DNA will help them yield better wool, meat or both. About 10 farms were represented, each with a pen of 12 rams or so.

I saw the farmers whom I'd met in my previous two days and they, their wives and their children welcomed me like an old friend. It was very much a family outing where kids gleefully chased each other around, wives caught up and gossiped, and the men talked shop (or sheep, in this case).

For the first part of the day, prospective buyers went around the pens to inspect each ram and to chat with the stud raisers, thinking about which sheep to bid on. Bidders pulled wool apart, checked out the rams' hindquarters, pat their backs and checked to see how loose their skin was.

Each ram had a card that described different attributes of wool type, "carcass" type and some even had family trees posted above them. A few farms posted signs noting that they retained the right to "50% of semen," to be extracted "at buyer's convenience and at seller's cost." It was a very different way to spend a Saturday, indeed.

When the actual auction began, it was very much like the events one sees on the tee-vee, where a man stands up and starts talking very quickly and very loudly. Bidders either raised their hands or nodded definitively and I tried to stand as still as possible, so as not to acidentally take home a $2,000 ram.

I'm sure I was being paranoid, however, because no one mistook me for a local. In fact, before the auction began, one of the organizers announced that I was visiting from the States and that I had been learning about wool farming. Little old ladies came up to me to discuss my job and to discuss New York while some of the older farmers offered me beers.

Also present were a woman and her daughter, raising money for melanoma research. The farmers agreed that 10% of each farm's top-selling stud would benefit the cause these two ladies represented. The daughter was planning to ride a horse across Australia in order to raise more money for research - a journey that was scheduled to take her approximately three months.

I don't think many people from the US get the chance to visit an event that's so far out of their element, so I was grateful for the experience. These farmers are hard-working, family-oriented men who dedicate their entire lives to their livelihood. They have a wonderfully welcome and tight-knit community and are trying the best they can to promote a product and industry they love. Even though I ruined a pair of shoes in the past few days, I feel very lucky to have experienced what I did.

Farm life

On my second day of visiting wool farms, I got the chance to get up close and personal to the sheep. We first visited a farm near Wellington, and I had a lovely time discussing our challenges in wool sourcing with the farm owners.

Coming into this trip, I didn't realize that the farms were family-run businesses, often passed down through several generations of farmers. At the first farm, we were warmly greeted by the farmer, his wife and their two adorable children. The farmer's father, who also lived on the property, also joined us, but his wife was off playing bridge with her friends.

We shared coffee and a very delicious cake, discussed issues like sustainable farming, wool prices, yarn quality and animal welfare. Then, we drove off and chased the ewes from one paddock to another before heading off to the shed where the rams were being kept for grooming (in advance of tomorrow's ram sale). In the shed, I got the chance to feel the wool, touch the sheep and enjoy the lovely aroma of a mob of sheep. Let's also mention that my shoes will not be making the journey back to Boston with me.

We then broke for a very nice lunch, prepared by the farmer's wife, and we were off to the next farm where I was able to get my hands on some freshly shorn wool, to examine the differences between this sustainably raised sheep and conventional wool.

The people I've met have been so welcoming and open and generous that I feel very lucky to have spent time with them. For each of the three farms I've visited, it's clearly a family affair with wives and kids contributing to the overall well-being of the farm. It's actually a very idyllic lifestyle and one that's much simpler than the faster-paced city life I'm used to. At one farm, the farmer was marveling at how incredible my host's BlackBerry seemed!

When we discuss wool and garments at work, we really don't discuss the human element of the farmers who toil away day after day and whose entire livelihoods depend on raising high quality sheep. This trip has brought a whole new dimension to my understanding of the supply chain.

Australia game drive

Today's wool farm visits felt very much like the safari game drives I went on last year. We were in a bumpy jeep, mowing down gigantic weeds and I was looking for animals. Instead of lions and hippos and giraffes, we spotted the following animals today:

• sheep (duh)
• cows
• peacocks
• alpaca
• a snake
• a rabbit
• kangaroos

Unfortunately, I only got photos of the sheep.

Feline toddler of terror

Jillian and her family came over yesterday morning so we could all brunch together and we introduced her adorable 2-year-old son to the cats.

Per usual, Victor Kiriakis freaked out and hid under an ottoman, then ran upstairs to hide under the bed. Stefano DiMera, meanwhile, took instantly to the newcomers and seemed very intrigued by the little human. He followed the toddler around, chased after the little nerf football he tossed and sniffed him from head to toe.

His interest waned, however, when the nerf football accidentally bonked him on the head and he ran under the table.

Dust to dust

In a few short hours, I'll be getting on a plane and leaving dusty Jordan. Throughout our travels the past two days, I've noticed that everything here is very monochromatic. It's all the color of sand and dust - not so interesting.

Jordan has been an interesting experience because the garment industry relies heavily on migrant labor for workers. Companies like mine need to be careful of cases where factory managers refuse workers their fair wages or keep their passports locked up, thereby rendering them indentured servants.

This country is full of challenges from a sourcing perspective, and I feel like my visit has answered a few questions, but opened up a heck of a lot more. We met with representatives from an ILO-sponsored program that seems promising as a means to help mitigate our risk as a brand that's sourcing here, but it's tough to let go of another layer of control. That said, the ILO could definitely give us some credible cover should anything go awry here.

I'm glad I had the chance to visit a few factories here. Some good ones will be added to our supply base, but there were a few that I definitely don't feel comfortable working in. Fortunately, my Sourcing team agreed and we won't be doing business with the poorer factories.

I didn't get to do any sightseeing, but on the way back to the hotel this evening, I saw some camels on the roadside!

Opening night

It used to be that I'd get all excited for a new bar opening or I'd try to score a table at some hot new restaurant. Alas, those days appear to be behind me.

For lunch today, I went to a new grocery store with a few co-workers. It was such a big deal for this sleepy little town and everyone who's anyone was there today! Granted, it's one of those fancy shmancy deals with lots of prepared foods, nice wood floors and elevated price points, but it's still a grocery store.

It was the usual to-do, with free samples and confused workers, but the most interesting part for me was the ground pork in the butcher section. They'd fashioned the ground pork to look like a pig's head, complete with cherry tomato eyes, a snout and a smile! Gnarly.

Dessert

Victor Kiriakis is currently hunting a ladybug and trying to eat it. It keeps flying out of his mouth.

Traumatized and lonely

Poor Victor Kiriakis still hasn't gotten over his cross-country adventure, it seems. Each day when I return to work, I find him under one of the beds, possibly just waking up. I wonder if he spends the entire day under a bed while I'm gone.

And when I'm home, he follows me around and meows the entire time. The strangest behavior is that his little front paws don't stop moving. Even when he's sitting still, his little paws knead and knead whatever's nearest: the ground, the wall, the couch, my belly, etc.

Hopefully, he'll snap out of this funk ... just in time to move into the city!

Feline flight

Guess what I'm never doing again. Flying with a pet under the seat in front of me!

Egads, Internets! I just took the red-eye from SFO to BOS last night and I am now working on approximately one hour of sleep. It all started off pretty well yesterday evening when I packed up my belongings, slipped Victor Kiriakis his share of the kitty xanax and called a cab to pick us up!

Victor, who usually meows non-stop in car rides, was relatively calm, so I figured the pill was doing him some good. When we got to airport security, the kind TSA lady suggested we go to a private room so that I didn't have to squeeze Victor as I walked through the metal detector. I was totes grateful for this private screening room and Victor behaved like a champ.

While we waited for our flight, Victor mostly looked out the window and I watched him anxiously, expecting him to erupt into horrible screams at any second. Fortunately, none of that ever happened, so it may have been unnecessary to find the least-populated seating area in the entire United terminal.

We also boarded the plane with little fanfare, and Victor seemed pretty content to squish in his carrier under the seat in front of me. The plane filled up, and we were off!

Actually, we weren't off immediately. It took about 30 minutes for us to slowly make our way to the runway before we were allowed to take off. During this time, Victor was pretty quiet, but as soon as the plane started to accelerate, the meows came fast and furious! And they did. not. stop.

For the next two hours or so, Victor meowed and meowed. It wasn't to the point where it was completely irritating, but it was enough to alarm the passengers who were lucky enough to be near us. But I could tell that people were struggling to fall asleep, so I dug out the other pill and unzipped the carrier just a teensy bit.

Immediately, Victor shoved his head through the unzipped opening with all his might and I grabbed his little face. I pried his mouth open, stuck the pill at the back of his throat, and clamped his face down, forcing him to swallow his meds.

After a few more protests, the pill worked! For about 20 minutes.

With more than three hours left in the flight, Victor renewed his protests at full lung capacity and decided he also wanted to try to claw his way out of the carrier. He struggled and squirmed and scratched and howled for a good two hours, much to the dismay of my fellow passengers. And I'd run out of drugs so I was completely powerless!

I tried gently (and not-so-gently) kicking the carrier, nudging his face through the mesh opening and petting him. Nothing worked. Finally, I took my sweatshirt and wrapped it around the carrier to muffle his screams. It sort of helped, but this was no way to get at the root cause of the problem.

Finally, with 1.5 hours left in the flight, I think Victor finally fell asleep. And he remained silent for about an hour. It was bliss.

But once the captain announced we were descending, the little carrier hopped into motion and the cat started screeching. I just resigned myself to the fact that we had only 30 minutes left and tried to look helpless as people shot me dirty, dirty looks.

A day at the races

My uncles love the horse races and they belong to the Hong Kong Jockey Club, which allows access to a fancy booth at the race track. I understand that horse races are held every Sunday, and I wouldn't be surprised if my uncles attended each week.

So today we headed to the races and enjoyed the buffet before settling in at our table. My grandmother had wanted to visit Macau to do some gambling, but everyone convinced her to visit the races instead. I'm not sure she really appreciated this turn of events because she seemed pretty bored throughout the day, preferring instead to eat as much as she could.

As for me, I think I have a six-race attention span. The horse races were interesting for a bit, but then it gets pretty tedious.

Today was also the annual Hong Kong Derby, which brought out thousands of betting fans. I was told that it would be more crowded than normal, and when I asked why, I was told it was because of the Derby. When I asked what made the Derby special, people could only answer, "You know, it's the Derby!" So, I didn't really get a satisfactory answer, but learned that derbies are restricted to horses of a certain age: usually three years old, but four years in the case of Hong Kong.

I placed HK$370 worth in bets throughout the day and recovered HK$60, so Lady Luck wasn't on my side. The way I picked my horses was purely based on the English translations of their names. Some of these names were quite humorous and I noted my favorites:

* Noble Zoom
* Optic King
* Leading City
* Bespoke Master
* Cristal Magnum
* Sparkling
* Pizzazz
* Be Grateful
* King Acrylic
* Great Guy
* Mr. Vigorous
* Fat Dragon
* Happy Zero
* Super Pistacio
* My Home Town
* Vigor Delight

Workforce wildlife

During a meeting with my boss yesterday, I happened to glance out the window and saw six deer, prancing through the parking lot! I'm not sure where they were going, but it definitely isn't something I would have ever seen while at work in San Francisco!

Feline pharmaceuticals

Yesterday morning, when I went to Walgreens to fill a prescription for the cats' anti-anxiety medication (in anticipation of the cross-country flight), the pharmacist looked at the prescription order and then looked up at me, puzzled. She asked, "When is your birthday?" When I told her, she wondered why it was listed as "2008" on the prescription.

When I explained that the prescription was for my cat, and not for me (The vet had forgotten to list a cat's name.), she seemed a bit suspicious, but agreed to call the vet before filling the prescription.

I left the pharmacy and went to work, not really thinking about it. A few hours later, I received an email that began:

"Dear Stefano-Cat,
Your prescription order for Wednesday, January 27th is ready for pickup."

And that made me laugh out loud.

Last checkup

I took Stefano DiMera and Victor Kiriakis to visit Dickinator's sister this morning for their last SF vet visit. It was Stefano's annual wellness visit, and Victor simply has so much wrong with him that it made sense for him to go as well.

In all, the cats are fine. We got some booster shots, cleaning wipes and news that neither is obese. And it was fun to catch up with Dickinator's sister, who gave some good advice about traveling with cats and prescribed some anti-anxiety medication that we'll be testing on them in the coming days.

While I waited in the lobby for the prescription, a lady came out of another exam room, sobbing. I couldn't get a look at her animal companion, but the exam didn't appear to go well. While she was waiting to pay, a nurse came out to answer a question she'd posed. Apparently, she could finish the round of antibiotics, but it wasn't going to make a difference. SAD!

Even though I'm out an additional 200 smackers, I'm glad Stefano and Victor are healthy critters!

Kitty yule logs

The cats and I traveled to my parents' home yesterday and they've spent the past 24 hours creeping about, being inquisitive and exploring their new surroundings. One of their favorite new hangouts seems to be the fireplace. This isn't something I'm happy about.

Lipstick

Dyson and his boyfriend cooked us a delicious four-course dinner the other night, fattening us up with amazingly yummy bleu cheese potatoes and other scrumptious dishes. It was also the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting their two little dachshunds, one of which kept getting very excited and showing off his lipstick!

Cleaning party

Puppy and I cleaned my entire place, top-to-bottom yesterday! He even cleaned the cats, who weren't too happy to spend the day all wet.

This post may be the least interesting one in the entire blogosphere.

A short hunting season

When I returned from work last night, a note on my door greeted me, indicating that Victor Kiriakis's services were no longer needed. I happily picked him up, but I remain unconvinced that his one night away got rid of the mousies.

Instead, I think my neighbors didn't have the heart to tell me that he's a messy, needy cat who kept them awake all night. It doesn't really matter. I'm glad he's back home, where Stefano DiMera can lick his face.

Will hunt for food

When my upstairs neighbors discovered a mouse in their home (on the third floor!), they asked if they could borrow a cat for a few nights. After considering for approximately 0.0001 seconds which cat would be right for the job, I offered Victor Kiriakis's services for a few nights.

I packed him and his belongings up last night and delivered him to my neighbors, but I haven't heard news about progress. Stefano DiMera, meanwhile, has grown sort of confused and despondent. He seems sad and lonely, looking for his old friend. This, of course, is ironic because he wanted to get rid of Victor just a week or two ago. My, how quickly things change!

Hopefully, Victor will be an adept hunter and clear their home of rodents quickly because I'm starting to miss him. That, and I don't want him to love them more than me.