An end in sight, perhaps

This past week I officially joined the fully-vaxxed club. I'd honestly thought it might be a more emotional experience. There was a moment when I watched some of my long-time colleagues get their first jab that caught my teary-eyed. I hadn't realized how braced I'd been to see at least one colleague die before the pandemic ran its course. We've mostly been working on-site since last May so the odds seemed good to me. Seeing them get the jab, knowing that we wouldn't face that collective trauma atop the general stresses of everyday life at an Elon company, was a relief I hadn't realized I'd needed.

Honestly, by the time the second jab came around, I just found it to be an inconvenience. I was literally pounding away at my laptop until the moment the needle had to enter my arm. The next day wasn't fabulous but still found me back at work by lunch time after passing a feverish night - nothing particularly special. It's wonderful to get to share that I'm one step closer to the end of this nightmare, though the potential for a vaccine-resistant strain still looms large. Still, cheers to this step, I suppose?

Moderna - check 1 and 2

Something blue... and pink, and gray, and caramel!

Another year and with it, another chipped "engagement" ring. ("Engagement" because we never really did the getting engaged thing. I just got myself something colorful and sparkly once we'd decided to start wedding planning.) Soon after ringing in 2021, I realized it was time for yet another ring upgrade. I was already on my third in as many years of married life - the first one having lost its center stone, and the next two having been an amazing cerulean topaz that I'd purchased for color without enough consideration of durability. It was time to start looking into tougher stones.

Enter moissanite, today's top-tier diamond substitute. At 9.25-9.5 on the Mohs scale of mineral hardness (compared to diamond at 10, sapphire at 9, and topaz all the way down at 8 on this logarithmic scale), we're looking at a gemstone approximately half as tough as diamonds, but a good fifty times tougher than my former fav, topaz. Moissanite is the gem name for silicon carbide, a material whose name gets tossed around more than a little in my workplace, adding an extra nerdy Neuralink bonus to the stone. The gem name comes from the Nobel Prize winning scientist Henri Moissan, who first discovered silicon carbide while studying meteorites in Meteor Crater in northern Arizona. Predominantly (if not exclusively) found in meteors, it shouldn't surprise anyone that the moissanite on the market is pretty much always lab-grown. With no mining required, moissanite has some serious economical and ethical upsides compared to diamonds. Oh, and it's readily available in a full spectrum of colors which were all calling my name.

Having never gotten into the gem craze around the time I'd gotten engaged, this was my first deep foray into the world of gemstones. So many cuts, carats, colors, and settings to consider! How could I possibly settle on one?

I began my collection with a classic round brilliant-cut icy blue 1.3 carat moissanite set in 14k yellow gold. The setting is delicate with a bit of an organic touch in the curves and detailing.

Engagement ring #4 - an icy blue moissanite

One of the most curious features was just how differently the colors shine until different lighting - check out the transformation in the video below from nearly clear to sky blue!

There was no stopping me now that I was aware of a durable stone available in nearly any color at such a low price point. (Think anywhere from about $50 to $450 for a 1 to 1.5 carat stone.) The next thing that sucked me in was the Portuguese cut - with about twice as many facets as the standard brilliant gem cut, the sparkle was just out of this world. Pair a deep dark stone with all the shards of the rainbow at the slightest twitch of the hand and, well, how could I resist? I will confess that this addition was the priciest bit of my growing collection, but can you blame me?

Love love love. Another 1.3 carat stone in 14k gold. This was my first foray into designing my own setting, so I may have gone a bit overboard on the side stones, but live and learn, right? That center stone - swoon. The stills just don't capture any of the ring's rainbow sparkle. Check out the video just below to see that Portuguese cut in action!

By now I was on a tear, ready to build up my right-hand ring collection to cover any and all outfit pairings. After all, it was now 2021 and that Class of '09 Brass Rat was starting to feel just a little outdated. I couldn't help but fall for this dusty rose, goes-with-anything charmer, also coming in at 1.3 carats. It's just a brilliant cut, but the color pulled me in.

Brilliant cut chocolatey-pink dusty rose moissanite, 1.3 carat set in a 14k gold semi-mount lined with teensy-tiny diamonds.

Finally, to round off the collection, I simply had to add an Asscher-cut stone to the mix. The Asscher cut stands out for its large step facets and cropped corners. It's a cut that was especially popular in the 1920's and has recently made a resurgence. I'm captivated by the big bold flashes of light from the long facets on the sides and the cross pattern from the cropped corners. Finding a stone in the same caramel shade as Senator Furnie Sanders's eyes just pushed it over the top.

An Asscher-cut 1 carat caramel moissanite (the color of Furnie's eyes!) custom-set in an assymmetric 14k gold ring that previously held the single white diamond floating on the side. I gave my jeweler a run for his money with this setting request.

Check out that Asscher-style sparkle!

And now, having filled up all the ring slots in my jewelry holder, I think it's fair to call a wrap on my second major pandemic project - a bit pricier than table making, but with less risk of burning down the house.

Tada - the complete collection!

Corona Christmas

 Add Christmas to the list of things we've survived during a pandemic. 60 degrees and drizzling outside? Netflix in sweatpants inside? It hardly makes for a convincing Christmas, even with the TV framed with stockings. Luckily for us, Nicolas's compatriots from work were about as trapped in California as were we. We're all in a shared risk pool (there's not much getting around lunch time in a small break room), so what's one more meal together? We cranked up the French holiday tradition, from the pre-meal apéro to the foie gras and fig jam all the way to the bûche de noël from a fantastic French pastry shop in Berkeley called La Noisette. (Thanks, Mom!)

Since the French have this quirky habit of celebrating Christmas on what's actually Christmas Eve, we were already in full Christmas food coma by the time real Christmas came around. We managed to roll ourselves out of bed and pump ourselves full of caffeine in time to get a classic 2020 family photo, and then walked it off with a rainy stroll around the lake.

Aloia family Christmas, Corona-style

Not exactly holly jolly, but the calendar said December 25, so I guess we just had Christmas.

The most memorable bit? Beginning to plan for a world post-pandemic. With vaccines already shipped across the country for front-line health care workers, we can imagine a day when we'll all be safe to travel. Air France is still offering fully refundable/exchangeable flights through September 2021 (shocking how airlines suddenly sorted out flexible reservations!), so we booked ourselves an August Eurotrip with all our fingers crossed. Come on, 2021!

Pandemic Project

Seems lots of us are wrapping up our pandemic projects. In the past two weeks, the FDA approved not one but TWO coronavirus vaccines. And me? I made some tables. Somehow I got the bright idea last summer that what was missing from my life was a set of living edge end tables, and that this was clearly the moment to fill that gaping hole. I mean, I had these unused stools whose steel bases could definitely be repurposed for side tables. This project was basically begging me to dive in. That's how I wound up spending the past six months sanding to my heart's content (and then a whole lot more) and have finally declared mission accomplished (or have waved that white flag and called it close enough? Po-TAY-to, po-TAH-to). It only took nearly burning down the house on one occasion, hobbling around the office on a wounded foot for a week praying that my colleagues didn't notice, and coating the entire living room with a fine dusting of carcinogenic epoxy resin powder on several occasions - you know, your standard weekend sort of hobby. But at least they're already going to use, and in all fairness they really earn some bonus points for originality. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, my pandemic project: 

My very own flaming red box elder wood slabs

It all began with a pair of flaming red box elder slabs from ebay, shown here right after I'd sanded the first of them. The "flaming red" refers to those little red streaks you can see just around the holes in the wood. Sometimes, significant portions of the box elder wood can be patterned with red. The origins of this color have mixed explanations online, but it seems to come from a stress response in the tree. As you can see, these stress responses can produce some striking patterns.

A gorgeous illustration of flaming red box elder, not my pandemic project (I wish)

Box elder is a type of maple known to be light-weight, soft, and brittle. Not ideal for furniture, but these hole-y paired slabs were just ideal when attempting to create your very own resin-filled living edge table rather than shelling out a few thousand to one of the craftspeople on etsy.

Look at those etsy pros and their fancy resin-filled tables. It can't be that hard, right?

Wood in hand, I started thinking about my resin filling and how much potential lie in the immense size of those gaps in my wood slabs. We weren't talking cute little cracks wriggling across the wood: this was a full canvas laid out for me, and I had to do it right. Several youtube tutorials later and I was convinced. People use resin to fill in wood gaps and they also use resin to set legos for decorative objects like paperweights, so surely it's only a small logical leap to combine the two.

Back to ebay I dove, this time on the hunt for the perfect lego set. Before I knew it, I had become the Lego Movie kragle villain.

Cue the evil villain music

For those of you not privileged enough to have enjoyed an Aloia cousins' campout or otherwise be in the know, our Lego Movie protaganists must fight against the evil forces seeking to freeze them with the "kragle," aka Krazy Glue. Sadly, my own recently purchased Legos never stood a chance.

Sen. Furnie Sanders of Purrmont served an advisory role for the living edge Lego compositions

With the wood sanded, its interiors painted, and the Legos in place, it was time to break out the resin. Turns out epoxy resin sucks. It comes in two parts and has to be carefully mixed in equal quantities, even though one of the two parts is much more viscous than the other and almost impossible to pour to any precise desired volume. If you're lucky enough to measure both parts out right, you then have to try to mix without bubbling it all up. And if you're still with me at this point, you've now got to pour out the solution in just the right thickness: too much and you'll never manage to chase out those pesky bubbles that just keep appearing, else they set in permanently. But mind you, that extra mixed resin that you haven't yet poured better be continually stirred otherwise it starts heating up and setting in your mixing tub before you've even had a chance to use your carefully mixed concoction. And oh, did you happen to spill some on yourself in the process? Good luck getting that off your hands for the next few days. Clothing spill? Time to bid that outfit adieu.

Fun with Legos and epoxy resin! I started by pouring out a dyed layer in the base of each lego scene. (I was especially pleased with the last-minute swirls I managed to add to the Under-the-Sea table.) Once that set, I was treated to a weekend and a half of pouring the resin layers, a half inch at a time, and watching it set. Babysitting resin, from the folks who brought you the great pastime of watching paint dry.

If you manage to pour out and fix all your resin, and chase out all the bubbles with a mini blow torch without burning down your home, it's now time to move on to the next bit of fun: sanding. Now what's that you say, the dust generated by epoxy resin is carcinogenic? Classic epoxy resin, the gift that keeps on giving.

Sanding away - looks like those masks are good for protecting against more than just coronavirus!

The final steps were admittedly less painful, though by then I'd solidly checked out of this adventure. After painting down the outer edges of the table, I used a fancy rubber spatula sort of tool to paint the epoxy resin finish over the edges and the bottoms of the tables, no sanding required. Of course the inevitable drips did require one more round of wet sanding on the table tops, but luckily the wet sanding (finer grit sand paper, used with soapy water) doesn't leave your home covered in a carcinogenic soot. At long last, this past weekend I finally sanded my last and screwed that last screw into the wooden table top, finally calling it a day (or a half year, in my case).

At long last, the woodworking was done!

Last Sunday I broke out the power drill for the very last step, screwing that last table top to its re-purposed base, calling a wrap on this overly drawn out woodworking extravaganza. There may be loads of imperfections, but I'm reasonably content with the final outcome. Most importantly, I'm proud to say that they are two new perfectly functional tables.

Tada!

And now, I could not be more pleased to have to find a new project to fill the rest of my pandemic.

Grateful

 This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for topical humor with an end date - T minus 54 days...

...a Thanksgiving feast fit for 5 inside our Covid bubble...

A Thanksgiving feast for 5, 2020-style

...and the softest kitten ever, Senator Furnie Sanders of Purrmont, who joined our family from the Neuralink parking lot back in late July, but somehow never got a proper introduction despite his exquisite photogenicity on this glorified photo album of a blog.

Grateful for our softest kitten, Senator Furnie Sanders of Purrmont

Bye Don?

Well, we may not know the results yet, but at least I did my part. It took all the Bernie gear I owned and a drink or three, but I voted for the “moderate” who doesn’t believe in universal healthcare but at least doesn’t think think that kids go in cages. I cannot empathize with anyone who’d choose the alternative. So... let’s go Biden!? 🤷‍♀️

Time to say Bye, Don!

Pumpkin Carving 101

Nicolas's two-year immigratiaversary may be just around the corner, but there are plenty of American traditions left for him to explore. This past weekend was no exception. Despite temperatures in the Bay Area in the 90s Fahrenheit (> 32C), the very non-Gallic Halloween is nearly upon us. Though I mainly outgrew my affinity for the holiday when I aged out of trick-or-treating, we're lucky enough to have a friend who feels otherwise. He was enthusiastic enough to pack a trunk full of pumpkins ready for carving, so on Saturday our socially-distanced outdoor gathering got to work. I'd forgotten how familiar it was to smell a freshly sliced pumpkin or feel its sticky, stringy, seedy guts oozing between my fingers. My familiarity made Nicolas's novelty all the more striking. It's easy to forget you didn't grow up in the same world as the person with whom you share your world. Then, next thing you know, you're discovering a "quintessential childhood experience" on a random Saturday afternoon well past your childhood years.

Nicolas's first jack-o-lantern

Nicolas's final project for Pumpkin Carving 101 earned him a solid A. In the midst of a year that hasn't been the greatest for a foreigner to America, I'm glad he got to discover one positive American tradition.