I couldn't let it rest.
I got into it.
Startin' to feel like a regular hacker. Which seems to be the only way to get into these things.
Oh, just how dangerous I could be if I knew what I was doing with this computer!!!
But now, I'm just too tired to do anything.
And so, to bed.
Dy
Friday, June 8
N'er Mind
I've been trying to extract the photos from the disk for the past three hours. So far, all I've seen are 209 .gif graphics from FujiFilm, a slower working speed on this computer than I had on my Commodore 64, and now, several messages informing me that I'm missing MSVCR80.dll. (I can even type that in without looking at the letters, because I've searched all over kingdom come for it.)
According to my computer, I have three copies of it, and then three other files with the name in there somewhere.
Somehow, that's not reassurring.
And so, I'm going to bed. Perhaps tomorrow the Computer Fairy will grant me three wishes. Or will tell me to simply click my heels together three times, and say...
Yeah. I know.
Ah, well. At least it was a good day in other respects. But it's almost two in the morning now, and I was going to go to bed by eleven. I'll fill ya in tomorrow.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
According to my computer, I have three copies of it, and then three other files with the name in there somewhere.
Somehow, that's not reassurring.
And so, I'm going to bed. Perhaps tomorrow the Computer Fairy will grant me three wishes. Or will tell me to simply click my heels together three times, and say...
Yeah. I know.
Ah, well. At least it was a good day in other respects. But it's almost two in the morning now, and I was going to go to bed by eleven. I'll fill ya in tomorrow.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, June 7
North American Rock Babies
Many people are familiar with the Prairie Dogs found in the high desert and plains regions of the Southwest. A lesser known critter is the North American Rock Baby.
These little cuties are often mistaken for badgers, mountain goats, or, quite frequently, prairie dogs.
They are relatively slow, but have excellent balancing skills.
.JPG)
Larger, more aggressive, and less likely to carry rabies or eat the roots from foliage than the prairie dog (though more likely to consume rocks, twigs, and gum stuck to the undersides of tables), the Rock Baby is a true delight to observe and photograph.
.JPG)
If you venture out early in the mornings, you may be fortunate enough to find a Rock Baby poking its head out of its den.
.JPG)
(I found the missing photographs!)
Kiss those Rock Babies!
~Dy
These little cuties are often mistaken for badgers, mountain goats, or, quite frequently, prairie dogs.
They are relatively slow, but have excellent balancing skills.
.JPG)
Larger, more aggressive, and less likely to carry rabies or eat the roots from foliage than the prairie dog (though more likely to consume rocks, twigs, and gum stuck to the undersides of tables), the Rock Baby is a true delight to observe and photograph.
.JPG)
If you venture out early in the mornings, you may be fortunate enough to find a Rock Baby poking its head out of its den.
.JPG)
(I found the missing photographs!)
Kiss those Rock Babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, June 6
Pictures Tomorrow!
No, I didn't get the upload issue fixed. I haven't heard back from Fuji *at all*. And unless I can bring in an exorcist, ALL of the pictures from the one card are gone forever. *sniff* But Kate suggested it might be the card reader. And I think that was it. Took the remaining card to a different store (one that doesn't hold people hostage at Kodak Cell Block 011010100), and the photos uploaded just fine. Unfortunately, without thinking, I hit "print 4x6", and so... now I get to cough up $48 for almost 300 photos... that I didn't want printed. I just wanted the $3 disk. But that's what I get for doing these things with four children in tow. The Monday after graduation. The Monday after Seniors return from their "Senior Trip". Monday, period. (WHAT was I thinking?)
So, anybody want a hard copy print of the Smidge Cam shots? I'm pretty sure there are some stunning nostril shots, and I vaguely remember a few knee-view ones, as well. C'mon, someone has to have a 3yo who would take one look at it and say, "MAN, that kid takes a great picture!"
Well, that's okay. I've been remiss in sending actual pictures to Loved Ones, anyway. So, this is sort of like God, kicking my behind into gear, right? After all, if He can use anything to bring about good, He can certainly take my AirHead Moments and make someone else smile. And then, charge me for it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, anybody want a hard copy print of the Smidge Cam shots? I'm pretty sure there are some stunning nostril shots, and I vaguely remember a few knee-view ones, as well. C'mon, someone has to have a 3yo who would take one look at it and say, "MAN, that kid takes a great picture!"
Well, that's okay. I've been remiss in sending actual pictures to Loved Ones, anyway. So, this is sort of like God, kicking my behind into gear, right? After all, if He can use anything to bring about good, He can certainly take my AirHead Moments and make someone else smile. And then, charge me for it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, June 5
Pummelled
Well, no. There were no fists involved. However, you can take your pick from any of the following:
beating
thrashing
pounding
Our team just didn't show up tonight. I mean, the little bodies were out there, but they weren't *there* there. It was like watching the inmates from the asylum enjoy an evening at the park. Weird.
I got a cute picture of one of the kids smearing the white chalk onto his face, like warpaint. Once he saw me with the camera, though, he launched into a Charlie Chaplain dance that I didn't have the heart to encourage. (Although I may talk to his mother about encouraging him in the arts. He's pretty good.)
John got his first taste of utter, total, bitter disappointment. That's a nasty pill to swallow, but for being six, he handled it well. He'll probably read this one day and think I'm not quite right in the head, but it really was harder on us to see it happen, to know it was coming, and not be able to do anything about it - than it was for him to be standing there, making circles in the dirt and have it hit him out of nowhere that "it's not happening, kids". I think this is the first time this season, aside from that one pre-season-tournamenty-thing that our little guys took a thorough beating. Every other game has been at least close. Or at least not... this bad.
I'd like to wax philosophical. Probably to make myself feel better. But every time I try, Zorak shoots me a look. Then he starts thinking about a beer commercial he saw today, and he laughs. He laughs the kind of laugh I'd probably trade a kidney to get out of him. And, well, it's hard to be philosophical and deep when I can't help but think, "ok, beer surgeon"...
So that's it. That's all I've got tonight. Tomorrow, we'll bake bread. We'll power wash more dirty stuff. (Ack, another random thought. They're pinging around in my head with abandon.) Love on my kiddos.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
beating
thrashing
pounding
Our team just didn't show up tonight. I mean, the little bodies were out there, but they weren't *there* there. It was like watching the inmates from the asylum enjoy an evening at the park. Weird.
I got a cute picture of one of the kids smearing the white chalk onto his face, like warpaint. Once he saw me with the camera, though, he launched into a Charlie Chaplain dance that I didn't have the heart to encourage. (Although I may talk to his mother about encouraging him in the arts. He's pretty good.)
John got his first taste of utter, total, bitter disappointment. That's a nasty pill to swallow, but for being six, he handled it well. He'll probably read this one day and think I'm not quite right in the head, but it really was harder on us to see it happen, to know it was coming, and not be able to do anything about it - than it was for him to be standing there, making circles in the dirt and have it hit him out of nowhere that "it's not happening, kids". I think this is the first time this season, aside from that one pre-season-tournamenty-thing that our little guys took a thorough beating. Every other game has been at least close. Or at least not... this bad.
I'd like to wax philosophical. Probably to make myself feel better. But every time I try, Zorak shoots me a look. Then he starts thinking about a beer commercial he saw today, and he laughs. He laughs the kind of laugh I'd probably trade a kidney to get out of him. And, well, it's hard to be philosophical and deep when I can't help but think, "ok, beer surgeon"...
So that's it. That's all I've got tonight. Tomorrow, we'll bake bread. We'll power wash more dirty stuff. (Ack, another random thought. They're pinging around in my head with abandon.) Love on my kiddos.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, June 4
Garh!!!
"Hey, honey, does John have practice tonight?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I wasn't going to take him to the batting cages if he also had practice."
"Oh. No, I don't think he has anything now until Thursday. They might play their first tournament game on Friday."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, of course I'm sure... I think."
So, Zorak took John to the batting cages for a bit of one-on-one time, some practice, and a little fun.
Aaaaaand, I just got off the phone w/ the coach's wife. "We missed y'all at practice tonight. Is everything okay?"
*wham* *wham* *wham* (beating my head on the desk) I. Am. Not. Fit. For. This. Job! "Yes, everything's fine. It's just that John's mother is a hard-core blonde sometimes."
Thankfully, all they did tonight was batting practice. *whew* Oh, and the first tournament game is tomorrow, not Friday.
Isn't that uber-organized woman with the dauntingly flawless scheduling skills who was supposed to have this job here yet? No? OK, then, I'll keep winging it, but I tell ya, they're starting to get Suspicious.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
"No, why?"
"Well, I wasn't going to take him to the batting cages if he also had practice."
"Oh. No, I don't think he has anything now until Thursday. They might play their first tournament game on Friday."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, of course I'm sure... I think."
So, Zorak took John to the batting cages for a bit of one-on-one time, some practice, and a little fun.
Aaaaaand, I just got off the phone w/ the coach's wife. "We missed y'all at practice tonight. Is everything okay?"
*wham* *wham* *wham* (beating my head on the desk) I. Am. Not. Fit. For. This. Job! "Yes, everything's fine. It's just that John's mother is a hard-core blonde sometimes."
Thankfully, all they did tonight was batting practice. *whew* Oh, and the first tournament game is tomorrow, not Friday.
Isn't that uber-organized woman with the dauntingly flawless scheduling skills who was supposed to have this job here yet? No? OK, then, I'll keep winging it, but I tell ya, they're starting to get Suspicious.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
I have the best readers in the world.
That's it. Some of you other bloggers may think you have better readers, but no. You don't. I do. They're mine, all mine!!!! Not only are the funny and insightful, but they're observant. And thoughtful.
The kids and I stopped at the post office to pick up our mail today and ask them to resume delivery. (Yeah, I know, we've been back, what a week? Well, it's not like we trek all the way to the end of the driveway every day, anyway. At least at the Post Office, it all stayed dry.) And what was in the pile of mail?
Well, yes, we've won some kind of a grand prize that we can claim when we test drive a new Super Cargo Van. But that has nothing to do with my really awesome readers.
There were three, count 'em, 1, 2, 3 - Barry Manilow Christmas CD's!
Zorak is going to be hating life for a while until I get it out of my system. And the boys are wondering why I laughed so hard at the mail.
But this is really cool.
And to honor the joy, we're going to have a Christmas in June celebration!
I really have the absolute best readers in the world.
Kiss those babies, and a cyber-hug of thanks, guys!! (Two of them came w/o a name attached, just direct mailed from a company, so I'm not sure exactly who to thank. Tara, yours came straight through. Thanks!)
Dy
The kids and I stopped at the post office to pick up our mail today and ask them to resume delivery. (Yeah, I know, we've been back, what a week? Well, it's not like we trek all the way to the end of the driveway every day, anyway. At least at the Post Office, it all stayed dry.) And what was in the pile of mail?
Well, yes, we've won some kind of a grand prize that we can claim when we test drive a new Super Cargo Van. But that has nothing to do with my really awesome readers.
There were three, count 'em, 1, 2, 3 - Barry Manilow Christmas CD's!
Zorak is going to be hating life for a while until I get it out of my system. And the boys are wondering why I laughed so hard at the mail.
But this is really cool.
And to honor the joy, we're going to have a Christmas in June celebration!
I really have the absolute best readers in the world.
Kiss those babies, and a cyber-hug of thanks, guys!! (Two of them came w/o a name attached, just direct mailed from a company, so I'm not sure exactly who to thank. Tara, yours came straight through. Thanks!)
Dy
Sunday, June 3
It doesn't take much.
The contrast between the amount of work it takes to make a home look nice, and the relatively little effort it takes to crap it up again, is shocking.
Zorak borrowed Me-Wa's pressure washer, to cleanse the debris off That 70's Brick, and de-slime the Balcony O'Death. Come to find out, the balcony is much closer to death than we anticipated. I nearly fell through. Zorak nearly fell through. The children pressed their wee faces between the wrought iron bars on the storm door and wished they could try to fall through, also. I guess it looked like fun. So, okay, it isn't any more safe now, but it looks better, smells better, and is less terrifying on a microbial level. It's the small things, sometimes.
We washed the front of the house, hoping to find the magical color that'll tie it all together, hidden somewhere in the brick's manysparkly bits facets. I don't think we found it, although we did mellow the patchwork-coat feel of the brick colors somewhat. What we did find, however, was the magical color hidden beneath the painted trim. It's yellow. That was a surprise.
Oh, and the shutters? We cleaned those. The paint flaked off, revealing another bit of history for the Forever Home. Turns out the shudders (oops, Freudian slip - of course, I meant "shutters") were salvaged from the fire back in 1972. Well, not "salvaged", in the sense that they were saved. But they were kept and reused when the house was re-built. Did you know you could paint over charcoal? And did you know that when you blast the paint off the charcoal, the whole thing disintegrates into a black, oozing mess all over your hedges?
If you'd have pulled up to our place this afternoon, you'd have seen what it probably looks like when sub-contractors riot. But there we stood, ankle deep in green mud, both of us covered in mildew and wood rot, charcoal and paint chips, drinking our coffee and surveying the damage...
"I like the yellow."
"Yeah. That is nice."
I guess it's all about perspective. But the yellow was definitely a surprise.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Zorak borrowed Me-Wa's pressure washer, to cleanse the debris off That 70's Brick, and de-slime the Balcony O'Death. Come to find out, the balcony is much closer to death than we anticipated. I nearly fell through. Zorak nearly fell through. The children pressed their wee faces between the wrought iron bars on the storm door and wished they could try to fall through, also. I guess it looked like fun. So, okay, it isn't any more safe now, but it looks better, smells better, and is less terrifying on a microbial level. It's the small things, sometimes.
We washed the front of the house, hoping to find the magical color that'll tie it all together, hidden somewhere in the brick's many
Oh, and the shutters? We cleaned those. The paint flaked off, revealing another bit of history for the Forever Home. Turns out the shudders (oops, Freudian slip - of course, I meant "shutters") were salvaged from the fire back in 1972. Well, not "salvaged", in the sense that they were saved. But they were kept and reused when the house was re-built. Did you know you could paint over charcoal? And did you know that when you blast the paint off the charcoal, the whole thing disintegrates into a black, oozing mess all over your hedges?
If you'd have pulled up to our place this afternoon, you'd have seen what it probably looks like when sub-contractors riot. But there we stood, ankle deep in green mud, both of us covered in mildew and wood rot, charcoal and paint chips, drinking our coffee and surveying the damage...
"I like the yellow."
"Yeah. That is nice."
I guess it's all about perspective. But the yellow was definitely a surprise.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Hooked!
Ha-HA! I love it when my plans come together.
We've been reading Eagle of the Ninth. Not a favorite for many, I know. And I know why. But the story itself (convoluted, dreadfully-Dickensian-attention-to-detail-we-don't-care-about, pain-in-the-butt-to-read-aloud prose aside), is really great. On many levels. I love the *story*. And since I love it, and I am willing to read it aloud, I decided that by-golly, my children will just have to live through it, too.
And they have.
But tonight, when Marcus and Esca spoke with Guern the Hunter for the second time, those little eyes were WIDE OPEN, mouths shut, attention all focused on the story. (And they think I was snuffling over the storyline!)
They asked for a second chapter. (And I'm pretty sure it isn't just to get it over with. I don't think that's dawned on them yet.)
But even if you ignore the adrenaline rush of seeing your children captured by a character, the discussions you can have with them after reading together are equally addicting. "Why did he __________?"
What was the custom? How was it different from the other countries?
What do you think?
What would you do?
Would you have taken on something like this?
No, we aren't going to burn peat in the wood stove this winter.
It's good, good stuff. It's worth slogging through the challenging things, worth pre-reading to get a feel for the flow of the writing, worth having to break it down to just a chapter a day. (Well, that may just be hard on me - I much prefer to let everyone fend for themselves and retread underwear while I finish a book in one sitting than to have to break it into chunks).
It's all worth it to see them make connections, develop empathy, experience the world through a different lense, compare it with what they know to be right or good or true... and then to be there when they share their ideas, develop their thoughts, and come to conclusions.
Man, I love this life!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We've been reading Eagle of the Ninth. Not a favorite for many, I know. And I know why. But the story itself (convoluted, dreadfully-Dickensian-attention-to-detail-we-don't-care-about, pain-in-the-butt-to-read-aloud prose aside), is really great. On many levels. I love the *story*. And since I love it, and I am willing to read it aloud, I decided that by-golly, my children will just have to live through it, too.
And they have.
But tonight, when Marcus and Esca spoke with Guern the Hunter for the second time, those little eyes were WIDE OPEN, mouths shut, attention all focused on the story. (And they think I was snuffling over the storyline!)
They asked for a second chapter. (And I'm pretty sure it isn't just to get it over with. I don't think that's dawned on them yet.)
But even if you ignore the adrenaline rush of seeing your children captured by a character, the discussions you can have with them after reading together are equally addicting. "Why did he __________?"
What was the custom? How was it different from the other countries?
What do you think?
What would you do?
Would you have taken on something like this?
No, we aren't going to burn peat in the wood stove this winter.
It's good, good stuff. It's worth slogging through the challenging things, worth pre-reading to get a feel for the flow of the writing, worth having to break it down to just a chapter a day. (Well, that may just be hard on me - I much prefer to let everyone fend for themselves and retread underwear while I finish a book in one sitting than to have to break it into chunks).
It's all worth it to see them make connections, develop empathy, experience the world through a different lense, compare it with what they know to be right or good or true... and then to be there when they share their ideas, develop their thoughts, and come to conclusions.
Man, I love this life!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
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