*Said in my best sing-song voice*
Verena is one of the sweetest ladies who posts at one of the forums I, erm, frequent. (It's not an addiction. Shush. Now blogging, that's an addiction.) Anyway today, she and her Totally Good Sport of a Husband, and their Three Precious Boys stopped in our little town to visit with us while they were on the road.
And she's just as interesting, if not moreso, in person.
And none of my children did anything horribly mortifying in her presence (for which I thanked them profusely when we got back in the car). They're good kids, but I'm always worried they're going to do something strange at the most inopportune moment, like peeing on the bushes right there in front of God and everybody, or declaring their knowledge of homebirth procedures for the uninitiated, or farting the alphabet. I don't know. You just never know what a child will come up with, but you can bet it will not have been included in the Quick 'n Easy List of 1,001 Things You Went Over With Them Before You Let Them Out of The Car. Guaranteed. They're sneaky like that. So, perhaps I should amend my statement. OK, officially, they did not do anything horribly mortifying that I am aware of.
The boys had a lovely time. Smidge cried when he realized they weren't coming to our house and we weren't going with them. Verena and her husband and I had a nice visit, and I do hope they will take us up on the Open Door Invitation. We'd love to have them anytime.
Anyhow, we did get pictures, but I've got to email her and ask permission to post 'em first. (I forgot to ask before we left the park.)
Ah. What a fun day. Tomorrow, it's back to the grindstone!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, June 13
Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Answer The Phone
'Hi, Dy! This is J---. I was just callin' to let you know they've put together a Summer Ball League."
heh.
Yeah.
Thanks. :-)
heh.
Yeah.
Thanks. :-)
Tuesday, June 12
A Few Things
This has been quite a week, and it's only Tuesday. First, there was the team party cake. I offered, I know. What was I thinking? It baked up beautifully, and even came out of the pan in one piece. I was SO jazzed.
I made a "rolled buttercream fondant" for the main icing. Tinted it deep yellow/gold and rolled it on. Oh, beautiful! Then, I needed to make a dark navy blue. Hmm, there's no blue-blue in this box of many colors. Only Sky Blue. Well, what do I mix to make it work (there's always a way to make it work!) After several panic-stricken hours online, and one rather cryptic phone call to Wilton:
That's when she threw the rule book out the window and helped me figure it out. In case you ever run into this problem, it takes the ENTIRE tub of Sky Blue and a few dabs of Violet, and you will get Navy Blue. Oh, sure, I may be a bad influence on CSR's, but hey, we both learned something, and that's good.
Now, for the record, if you try to decorate a cake at home, make sure you turn the AC down. 80 degrees might feel nice and comfy *for you*, but your buttercream may beg to differ. It doesn't seem to matter how stiff you make it, it's gonna wilt, and sag, and probably streak. So, John's team got a lovely blue and gold Nightmare on Elm Street cake. *sigh*
EmBaby's rear seems to be on fire from the inside, and she's been rather miserable and clingy in a hold-me-only-by-the-armpits sort of way. She awoke this morning in such pain that she couldn't get up. Turns out she'd had a blowout sometime during the night, and that didn't help. She just lay there, trembling and crying, but unwilling to go through the torture of sitting on anything in order to stand. We spent a lot of time the last few days airing out, bathing in cool water, and eating bland, bland toast. I thought it had to be teething, and sure enough, there are two more on their way in. So, she should be better soon. I hope so!
Then, the Very Nice Lady from the dentist's office called yesterday. The conversation went like this:
So Zorak came home and I grabbed my current read (The Prince) and headed off for the root scaling.
I've gotta say, it's worth it. I'm actually (and no, not just blowing smoke, here) looking forward to next week. And it's not just so that the other side of my mouth will match, either. (Although that will be rather nice.) It. Is. Worth. It. If you've been putting off going to the dentist because you just *know* he'll tell you something horrible, well, here you go - short of doing meth, my teeth seem to have been about as bad as they can be, and the worst they can tell you is that they can help you. Go. And I'm going to go to bed. :-)
Oh, if I owe you an email, give me until tomorrow night to respond. I haven't checked email in a while, and now that the novacaine is wearing off, I'm not checking it tonight, either. Please know I'm not ignoring you. I'm simply overwhelmed with wilty icing, dental visits, some computer trouble, and erupting toddler. Things should be back down to a dull roar by tomorrow.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
I made a "rolled buttercream fondant" for the main icing. Tinted it deep yellow/gold and rolled it on. Oh, beautiful! Then, I needed to make a dark navy blue. Hmm, there's no blue-blue in this box of many colors. Only Sky Blue. Well, what do I mix to make it work (there's always a way to make it work!) After several panic-stricken hours online, and one rather cryptic phone call to Wilton:
W: Oh, honey, you can't make Navy Blue with sky blue. You need Royal Blue to make Navy Blue.
ME: Ok, but I don't *have* Royal Blue. I *have* Sky Blue, because that's what you put in your eight-pack.
W: Well, you'll need to get some Royal Blue.
ME: I'm an *hour* from the only store that both carries your stuff AND is open for the next 48 hours.
W: You need Royal Blue and Black.
ME: So, um, do you have anybody there who'd be willing to get a little crazy and wing it with me?
That's when she threw the rule book out the window and helped me figure it out. In case you ever run into this problem, it takes the ENTIRE tub of Sky Blue and a few dabs of Violet, and you will get Navy Blue. Oh, sure, I may be a bad influence on CSR's, but hey, we both learned something, and that's good.
Now, for the record, if you try to decorate a cake at home, make sure you turn the AC down. 80 degrees might feel nice and comfy *for you*, but your buttercream may beg to differ. It doesn't seem to matter how stiff you make it, it's gonna wilt, and sag, and probably streak. So, John's team got a lovely blue and gold Nightmare on Elm Street cake. *sigh*
EmBaby's rear seems to be on fire from the inside, and she's been rather miserable and clingy in a hold-me-only-by-the-armpits sort of way. She awoke this morning in such pain that she couldn't get up. Turns out she'd had a blowout sometime during the night, and that didn't help. She just lay there, trembling and crying, but unwilling to go through the torture of sitting on anything in order to stand. We spent a lot of time the last few days airing out, bathing in cool water, and eating bland, bland toast. I thought it had to be teething, and sure enough, there are two more on their way in. So, she should be better soon. I hope so!
Then, the Very Nice Lady from the dentist's office called yesterday. The conversation went like this:
VNL: Hi Mrs. Dy. I'm just calling to let you know that we have an opening for Tuesday at 5:30, and see if you'd like to take it.
ME: Um, TOMORROW?!?!?
VNL: ...Or would you rather keep your Thursday appointment?
ME: THURSDAY?!?!?!
VNL: ...Or did you completely forget you had an appointment this week?
ME: THIS WEEK!?!?
VNL: (who by now knows me well) So Zorak can take the kids and we'll see you tomorrow at 5:30?
ME: *whimper* OK. *sniff* Thanks. *sob*
So Zorak came home and I grabbed my current read (The Prince) and headed off for the root scaling.
I've gotta say, it's worth it. I'm actually (and no, not just blowing smoke, here) looking forward to next week. And it's not just so that the other side of my mouth will match, either. (Although that will be rather nice.) It. Is. Worth. It. If you've been putting off going to the dentist because you just *know* he'll tell you something horrible, well, here you go - short of doing meth, my teeth seem to have been about as bad as they can be, and the worst they can tell you is that they can help you. Go. And I'm going to go to bed. :-)
Oh, if I owe you an email, give me until tomorrow night to respond. I haven't checked email in a while, and now that the novacaine is wearing off, I'm not checking it tonight, either. Please know I'm not ignoring you. I'm simply overwhelmed with wilty icing, dental visits, some computer trouble, and erupting toddler. Things should be back down to a dull roar by tomorrow.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, June 11
The Garden Boxes
Well, y'all have been tremendously patient about all the Forever Home renovation pictures. Tonight, I'm too tired to face the deck/eaves/rotted wood/paint sample horror that is the current project, so I thought I'd finally post about the garden boxes. Yes, I know, we built them back in March. If it's any consolation, they still pretty much look like just the same as in the last photo of this entry. Zorak and I are writing this together, so to differentiate our voices, we'll bold his technical notes and zippy commentary.
First, these are built almost exclusively from salvaged wood on the property. The plywood, the pressure treated posts -- all stuff laying around from the renovation or from the previous owners. That did wonders not only for the landscape, but for our pocketbook, as well.
The boxes are a combination of rectangles, squares, and angled pieces. We did this because we have grand plans to build up a maze garden with sitting spots, inviting play areas, and a gazebo, all incorporating these shapes. Hillbilly Zen, if you will. We are of a philosophy which observes strict conservation of energy (ie. kinda lazy), and so they're fairly modular, easy to build, and ought to last a long, long time.
The sides are all constructed thusly:
Then it's time for the really fun part! We used deck stain, namely because we had some on hand, and wanted to see how it would look. But also because we would rather not be replacing these things before we're done with the rest of the renovations. Conserve, conserve, conserve.
By this time, the boxes are too big for the kids to drag out to the garden, so you'll probably have to do that part yourself. OR, you could load the box on a red wagon and have the children haul it to the top of the hill. Not that we actually did that... we're just sayin'.
(Once the deck stain dried, the boxes were lined with polyethylene landscaping liner to keep the interior of the boxes from rotting.) Obviously, if you're going totally organic, you'd skip this part. And the one just before it. Well, and the pressure-treated... come to think of it, if you're going totally organic, this is going to be no help at all.
Now it's just a matter of placing your boxes, making sure they're level,
And filling them in with nutrient-rich goodness! (A little sand, kitchen compost and manure from the barn, in our case, to supplement the heavy clay soil we have. Yum! Yum!) The sticks are just for decorative purposes. Plus, they give the children something to do when the children decide to try the "I'm bored" line on us. So far, the sticks are still there. Smart kids.
And there ya have it - Forever Home Garden Boxes. Yet another family project we'vestarted but not finished, erm, survived.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
First, these are built almost exclusively from salvaged wood on the property. The plywood, the pressure treated posts -- all stuff laying around from the renovation or from the previous owners. That did wonders not only for the landscape, but for our pocketbook, as well.
The boxes are a combination of rectangles, squares, and angled pieces. We did this because we have grand plans to build up a maze garden with sitting spots, inviting play areas, and a gazebo, all incorporating these shapes. Hillbilly Zen, if you will. We are of a philosophy which observes strict conservation of energy (ie. kinda lazy), and so they're fairly modular, easy to build, and ought to last a long, long time.
The sides are all constructed thusly:
(Technical specs: 3/8ths plywood sides, 9-1/4" high - which we did just so we could get five strips per sheet; pressure treated 2x4 bottom; regular 2x4 top board. The rabbet joints were cut with a circular saw with a strip of wood clamped to the base of the guide to set the 3/4" depth and 1/2" width of the joint. The half-inch width allows the 2x4 top [and bottom] to overhang the sides by about an eighth of an inch, and leaves a 2-1/2" wide hollow core.)
*psst* You can see it in action *here*.)
Assemble with child labor, using galvanized nails...
The sides attach to the corners with a nifty little insert, jointy thing. (Zorak will fill us in on the details in the next technical note.) The boards are cut to fit just inside the cross section of the side pieces, and then you can secure them. Again, with the children. (Conservation of energy rule #326 - your children have far more energy than you do. Use it well.)
This one is for an angled piece -->
And this one is for a straight 90' corner. Handy for all those squares and rectangles, no?
(The posts extend beyond the height of the sides so that they can be set into the ground. They do that on the top for purely aesthetic purposes. The bevels, for example, help hide some of the hazards of using salvaged material. The cleats, what Dy refers to as "boards," are 2x3's, which allows them to fit inside the 2-1/2" hollow-core sides.)
Once the individual bits and pieces are assembled (and inspected by the dog and the baby), you're ready to let the kids finish building the box. (Again with the child labor!) Simply slip the pieces into place and nail or screw the sides to the cleats (see, I got it right this time!)
Then it's time for the really fun part! We used deck stain, namely because we had some on hand, and wanted to see how it would look. But also because we would rather not be replacing these things before we're done with the rest of the renovations. Conserve, conserve, conserve.
By this time, the boxes are too big for the kids to drag out to the garden, so you'll probably have to do that part yourself. OR, you could load the box on a red wagon and have the children haul it to the top of the hill. Not that we actually did that... we're just sayin'.(Once the deck stain dried, the boxes were lined with polyethylene landscaping liner to keep the interior of the boxes from rotting.) Obviously, if you're going totally organic, you'd skip this part. And the one just before it. Well, and the pressure-treated... come to think of it, if you're going totally organic, this is going to be no help at all.
Now it's just a matter of placing your boxes, making sure they're level,
And filling them in with nutrient-rich goodness! (A little sand, kitchen compost and manure from the barn, in our case, to supplement the heavy clay soil we have. Yum! Yum!) The sticks are just for decorative purposes. Plus, they give the children something to do when the children decide to try the "I'm bored" line on us. So far, the sticks are still there. Smart kids.
And there ya have it - Forever Home Garden Boxes. Yet another family project we've
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, June 10
Oh, my.
The Very Cool Older Cousin mentioned in the previous post (we'll call her T) brought her boyfriend (we'll call him P) up to the City of Rocks with us. The kids loved him. The adults loved him. In fact, we jokingly told T that even if she didn't keep him, we would. She (jokingly, we hope) said that now that he'd been introduced to the Libertarian Hillbilly contingent of the family, we'll just have to see if he takes off running.
She mentioned that he's said that he'd like ten (I think it was ten) children, but would be happy with six, so, of course, never one to let a potentially awkward moment go by, we lined them up with five of the six cousins in attendance (we thought there were all six, but I can't find that last one in the photograph) and got a group photo. Sort of a time-lapse "this could be your life".
Two children...
five children...
He didn't flinch.
As a matter of fact, take a look at how he's looking at her there in the photo on the bottom left -- the one with all the children.
So really, is it any surprise that this weekend, when he brought her supper from Nopalito's (a sign of true affection and care in our clan), he also brought her a ring?
And that she accepted?
And we are so very glad at this news.
It's a big world out there, and they're about to embark on an incredible journey together. Is there anything you'd love to have known when you started out? Would you all help us celebrate by sharing the wisdom about marriage and life together that you've garnered over the years? Either leave your thoughts in the comments section, or blog about it and leave us a link. If you'll be so kind to do this, I'd love to print it out and share it with them: a guidebook for the scenic route, if you will.
Personally, I hope they have many babies for us to be kissing for years to come! ;-)
But tonight, let's kiss those spouses, and the babies, and take a moment to savor this wonderful life we have, and all it's taken to get here.
~Dy
She mentioned that he's said that he'd like ten (I think it was ten) children, but would be happy with six, so, of course, never one to let a potentially awkward moment go by, we lined them up with five of the six cousins in attendance (we thought there were all six, but I can't find that last one in the photograph) and got a group photo. Sort of a time-lapse "this could be your life".
Two children...
five children...
He didn't flinch.
As a matter of fact, take a look at how he's looking at her there in the photo on the bottom left -- the one with all the children.
So really, is it any surprise that this weekend, when he brought her supper from Nopalito's (a sign of true affection and care in our clan), he also brought her a ring?
And that she accepted?
And we are so very glad at this news.
It's a big world out there, and they're about to embark on an incredible journey together. Is there anything you'd love to have known when you started out? Would you all help us celebrate by sharing the wisdom about marriage and life together that you've garnered over the years? Either leave your thoughts in the comments section, or blog about it and leave us a link. If you'll be so kind to do this, I'd love to print it out and share it with them: a guidebook for the scenic route, if you will.
Personally, I hope they have many babies for us to be kissing for years to come! ;-)
But tonight, let's kiss those spouses, and the babies, and take a moment to savor this wonderful life we have, and all it's taken to get here.
~Dy
Saturday, June 9
Group Photos, The Hard Way
On the last day of our trip, we all went out with the kids to help them hunt for the elusive Kokopelli paintings. While we were there, we figured we'd give the ol' Group Photo thing a try. So we tried...
Almost made it!
NINE shots later, we got a great picture!
And how, I ask you, HOW, did we not see this branch the first eight times?
BAH. This is why people pay professionals to take these pictures.
And we tried...
Almost made it!NINE shots later, we got a great picture!
One to make copies of and frame.
Oh, that's just exciting.
But wait...
What's that?
What is he DOING?!
What's that?
What is he DOING?!
Nooooooooooo...
And how, I ask you, HOW, did we not see this branch the first eight times?
BAH. This is why people pay professionals to take these pictures.
The trip in review.
Well, we made our first flight..JPG)
Aaaaand, I discovered that I'm not quite *there* yet in my photography skills that I should bother trying to take pictures from inside the aircraft. The kids had a great time flying. The folks around us were all headed home to Texas and had no problem sharing their "first flight" stories with the boys, pointing out interesting things, laughing, sharing. The flight attendants were just sweet as can be to the boys, and made a point to let each of the children know how much they appreciated their polite manners and thoughtful traveling ways. I let the attendants know how much *I* appreciated the positive feedback. (A little reinforcement never hurts, does it? I *do* appreciate that.)
I was so pleased not to have ended up in a confrontation with anybody from TSA that I thought about buying myself a drink! But, then I realized... we still had two airports to go through. So I stuck with Dr. Pepper. Which was probably a good call, since we missed our connecting flight in Dallas..JPG)
As you can see, either James sprouted ale from his head (a new mythology for the traveling family?) or Zorak didn't have the same concerns surrounding alcohol and confrontation that I did. (Which would make sense. He's a friendly, amorous drinker. I turn into Sleepy Dwarf or a banty rooster - neither of which is recommended when traveling with children.) Emily, in the back there, is trying to crawl over Zorak so that she can "cheese" for the camera. I'm so glad she's reserved and cautious.
Obviously, the layover didn't bother them one bit.
We made it into New Mexico in the wee hours of Friday morning, slept a bit, then headed to the City of Rocks for three days of camping, hiking, hanging out and laughing. The kids thought it was the best. thing. ever. Seriously? How often do you get to climb thirty feet up a rock wall and pretend you're being crushed by a boulder?.JPG)
Of course, this is best done with cousins who share your penchant for the weird and wonderful (One of them, Cousin M, is there on the far left). And note the Totally Cool Older Cousin who willingly posed for the shot by pushing the boulder off the little guys. *happy sigh* How cool is she? I love her.
(Side note: my zoom lens was fully engaged. They are way. the. hell. up there. Totally Cool Older Cousin kindly stayed close enough to snatch Smidge by the britches should he have toppled over the edge. Because I would have been useless, what with the paralysis and incontinence and all. Sometimes it's really hard to let go. I'm glad we have family that makes it easier to do.)
My favorite part of the outing, aside from getting all my children back in relatively good form, was having everybody converge on Saturday for a good, old-fashioned Hangin' Out & Eatin' Session. Sissa and T (the Totally Cool Older Cousin) had come up with us, as well as Cousin S and Cousin M. Then Aunt Sally came down from Silver City, Aunt B, Uncle Fred and Gram came up for the day from Cruces. Cousins Kris and David came up to stay the rest of the trip. There were a lot of us, and it was wonderful. Can you believe Gram stayed most of the day? Here she is, at 98 years old, having a wonderful time in the desert...
Next up, petroglyph hunting and group photos for the uninitiated.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
.JPG)
Aaaaand, I discovered that I'm not quite *there* yet in my photography skills that I should bother trying to take pictures from inside the aircraft. The kids had a great time flying. The folks around us were all headed home to Texas and had no problem sharing their "first flight" stories with the boys, pointing out interesting things, laughing, sharing. The flight attendants were just sweet as can be to the boys, and made a point to let each of the children know how much they appreciated their polite manners and thoughtful traveling ways. I let the attendants know how much *I* appreciated the positive feedback. (A little reinforcement never hurts, does it? I *do* appreciate that.) I was so pleased not to have ended up in a confrontation with anybody from TSA that I thought about buying myself a drink! But, then I realized... we still had two airports to go through. So I stuck with Dr. Pepper. Which was probably a good call, since we missed our connecting flight in Dallas.
.JPG)
As you can see, either James sprouted ale from his head (a new mythology for the traveling family?) or Zorak didn't have the same concerns surrounding alcohol and confrontation that I did. (Which would make sense. He's a friendly, amorous drinker. I turn into Sleepy Dwarf or a banty rooster - neither of which is recommended when traveling with children.) Emily, in the back there, is trying to crawl over Zorak so that she can "cheese" for the camera. I'm so glad she's reserved and cautious. Obviously, the layover didn't bother them one bit.
We made it into New Mexico in the wee hours of Friday morning, slept a bit, then headed to the City of Rocks for three days of camping, hiking, hanging out and laughing. The kids thought it was the best. thing. ever. Seriously? How often do you get to climb thirty feet up a rock wall and pretend you're being crushed by a boulder?
.JPG)
Of course, this is best done with cousins who share your penchant for the weird and wonderful (One of them, Cousin M, is there on the far left). And note the Totally Cool Older Cousin who willingly posed for the shot by pushing the boulder off the little guys. *happy sigh* How cool is she? I love her.(Side note: my zoom lens was fully engaged. They are way. the. hell. up there. Totally Cool Older Cousin kindly stayed close enough to snatch Smidge by the britches should he have toppled over the edge. Because I would have been useless, what with the paralysis and incontinence and all. Sometimes it's really hard to let go. I'm glad we have family that makes it easier to do.)
My favorite part of the outing, aside from getting all my children back in relatively good form, was having everybody converge on Saturday for a good, old-fashioned Hangin' Out & Eatin' Session. Sissa and T (the Totally Cool Older Cousin) had come up with us, as well as Cousin S and Cousin M. Then Aunt Sally came down from Silver City, Aunt B, Uncle Fred and Gram came up for the day from Cruces. Cousins Kris and David came up to stay the rest of the trip. There were a lot of us, and it was wonderful. Can you believe Gram stayed most of the day? Here she is, at 98 years old, having a wonderful time in the desert...
Next up, petroglyph hunting and group photos for the uninitiated.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
What kind of spider is this?
Or, more accurately, "was"...(Click on the image for a -- heh, heh, I was going to say "better" view. How about, "for a closer look".)
And please, nobody tell me it's the state spider and protected by law. I just don't think I have it in me tonight to handle that.
Dy
Friday, June 8
Warning: Dirty-Faced Child Photos
Ten days, four children, 1000 miles.
High desert, low desert, windy plains.
Gorgeous blooms, and equally stunning sinus reactions.
Water at a premium.
Just so ya know. My children were not clean when most of these photos were taken.
Yeah, I could've taken wipes and given each one a quick swipe before clicking away. But short of hooking up some kind of vacuum system to Emily's face, there was no helping that. Besides, I've only got two arms, and they were busy holding the camera and the coffee. Gotta have priorities.
I know dirty-child photos make some people cringe. My children were dirty during the filming of these shots. So, you've been warned. :-)
Dy
High desert, low desert, windy plains.
Gorgeous blooms, and equally stunning sinus reactions.
Water at a premium.
Just so ya know. My children were not clean when most of these photos were taken.
Yeah, I could've taken wipes and given each one a quick swipe before clicking away. But short of hooking up some kind of vacuum system to Emily's face, there was no helping that. Besides, I've only got two arms, and they were busy holding the camera and the coffee. Gotta have priorities.
I know dirty-child photos make some people cringe. My children were dirty during the filming of these shots. So, you've been warned. :-)
Dy
HA!
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
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
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
Saturday, June 2
Baseball Round-Up
Today was the last game of the season, which would lead one (ok, me) to believe that's the end. You know. Of the... season. Ah, to be the uninitiated first-year mom. No, no, silly woman. Now it's time for tournaments.
Tournaments? Didn't we play tournaments back in March?
No, no, those were pre-season tournaments.
As opposed to post-season tournaments?
No, as opposed to tournaments.
Oh. I think I need a sno-cone.
John's team lost today. I don't know the score, but it was by one point. And you know, it was the absolute best game all season. The very best. Both teams played their wee little hearts out. Both sets of coaches were encouraging and nurturing and positive toward their players. The refs were good. The stands were packed. Both teams could field the ball fairly well (for this age bracket), and the spectators on both sides were generous with their applause and shouts of "good play," "way to hustle," and "good swing," no matter which team the children were on. If only there'd been a bit of a breeze, and the Snack Shack hadn't broken the sno-cone machine, it would have been a perfect day.
We have one little roly-poly guy on the team who is just so sweet and has worked so hard this season. All of the kids have improved in some aspect, all of them. But he has really gone above and beyond in several areas. Today he came up to bat in the kind of set-up they put in full Cheez-Whiz sentimental movies: two on base, two outs, bottom of the inning, he had two strikes, and we were down by one. (No pressure!) He smacked that ball like nobody's business and made it to second base, bringing in two runs in the process. The crowd, on both sides of the stands, went absolutely wild. I'm not the only one that got teary-eyed. Granted, the other lady is pregnant and she cried at the last practice, too, but still. It wasn't just me. You could see the smile on his face from clear across the field. We thought for sure he'd get the game ball for that.
But, no. The game ball went to a kid who ran from first to second, freaked out at the dogpile on the baseline in front of second, and bolted back to first. When the kid from the other team started getting close enough to tag him out, he actually tried shoving the girl on first base off the base so he could be safe and she'd... go back to batting? I don't know, but he was pretty certain she didn't need to be there if it would save him. None of us is sure what he did later in the game to earn the gameball. Maybe it was just his willingness to get back out there after being run down and tagged out like that. *shrug*
John came up to bat in the last inning with two outs, and we were down by one again. He hit it and the other team fielded the ball really well. He was out, and my heart sank for him. But he was okay with it. No fits, no ugly conduct. He just gave us his little cockeyed grin that said, "Well, I tried," and we (not just Zorak and James and I, but everybody in the stands) gave him encouragement. I noticed his coach gave him an encouraging pat as he ran back to the dugout, as well. The kid was well over it, and looking forward to a sno-cone by then, but it did a lot for this Mama's heart to see someone else encourage these kids the way I would. It's nice to gather around you that team that's coming from the same place you are, and looking to help encourage your children in the same direction you are encouraging them. That's enough to have made the season worth it, in my opinion.
All the kids did well, and when our guys gave the other team random kudos ("Hey, great game, guys!" and "Congrats. You all played a fantastic game!"), that other team just bubbled with pride. It was the pride of a job well done, too, not a haughty, nasty pride. It was a good thing. Their coaches, their parents, have instilled the kind of sportsmanship in them that more communities need. Good kids, all around. Good game, all around. And I'd say good season, all around... but I'm starting to think it never ends. :-S
We'll have two in football this fall, and it looks like we may have three in baseball next spring. It's catching!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tournaments? Didn't we play tournaments back in March?
No, no, those were pre-season tournaments.
As opposed to post-season tournaments?
No, as opposed to tournaments.
Oh. I think I need a sno-cone.
John's team lost today. I don't know the score, but it was by one point. And you know, it was the absolute best game all season. The very best. Both teams played their wee little hearts out. Both sets of coaches were encouraging and nurturing and positive toward their players. The refs were good. The stands were packed. Both teams could field the ball fairly well (for this age bracket), and the spectators on both sides were generous with their applause and shouts of "good play," "way to hustle," and "good swing," no matter which team the children were on. If only there'd been a bit of a breeze, and the Snack Shack hadn't broken the sno-cone machine, it would have been a perfect day.
We have one little roly-poly guy on the team who is just so sweet and has worked so hard this season. All of the kids have improved in some aspect, all of them. But he has really gone above and beyond in several areas. Today he came up to bat in the kind of set-up they put in full Cheez-Whiz sentimental movies: two on base, two outs, bottom of the inning, he had two strikes, and we were down by one. (No pressure!) He smacked that ball like nobody's business and made it to second base, bringing in two runs in the process. The crowd, on both sides of the stands, went absolutely wild. I'm not the only one that got teary-eyed. Granted, the other lady is pregnant and she cried at the last practice, too, but still. It wasn't just me. You could see the smile on his face from clear across the field. We thought for sure he'd get the game ball for that.
But, no. The game ball went to a kid who ran from first to second, freaked out at the dogpile on the baseline in front of second, and bolted back to first. When the kid from the other team started getting close enough to tag him out, he actually tried shoving the girl on first base off the base so he could be safe and she'd... go back to batting? I don't know, but he was pretty certain she didn't need to be there if it would save him. None of us is sure what he did later in the game to earn the gameball. Maybe it was just his willingness to get back out there after being run down and tagged out like that. *shrug*
John came up to bat in the last inning with two outs, and we were down by one again. He hit it and the other team fielded the ball really well. He was out, and my heart sank for him. But he was okay with it. No fits, no ugly conduct. He just gave us his little cockeyed grin that said, "Well, I tried," and we (not just Zorak and James and I, but everybody in the stands) gave him encouragement. I noticed his coach gave him an encouraging pat as he ran back to the dugout, as well. The kid was well over it, and looking forward to a sno-cone by then, but it did a lot for this Mama's heart to see someone else encourage these kids the way I would. It's nice to gather around you that team that's coming from the same place you are, and looking to help encourage your children in the same direction you are encouraging them. That's enough to have made the season worth it, in my opinion.
All the kids did well, and when our guys gave the other team random kudos ("Hey, great game, guys!" and "Congrats. You all played a fantastic game!"), that other team just bubbled with pride. It was the pride of a job well done, too, not a haughty, nasty pride. It was a good thing. Their coaches, their parents, have instilled the kind of sportsmanship in them that more communities need. Good kids, all around. Good game, all around. And I'd say good season, all around... but I'm starting to think it never ends. :-S
We'll have two in football this fall, and it looks like we may have three in baseball next spring. It's catching!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Our Night
"You know what might be kind of fun this year? Let's not wait until the 19th to plan John's birthday party." (It's the 20th.)
"Yeah. We could try that."
***********************************
"Hey, can we paint a skull and crossbones on the dog for the party?"
"Sure. We'll cut off a leg, too. And give him a peg leg. No, a hook!"
"We could poke his eye out, too, while we're at it."
***********************************
"...not a grammatition. Or is it a grammarian?"
"I dunno. Grammatard?"
***********************************
"Do you think the smell is God's way of punishing you for farting in the first place?"
***********************************
"Wanna help me blog tonight?"
"Sure. I've thought up some new ethnic jokes you could try out."
*blink* *blink* "What?"
"No. Not really."
***********************************
"Man, Balto really smells funny."
*sniff* "OH, GOD, he got skunked! Get him out of here!"
"Huh. I knew something wasn't right."
***********************************
The boys and I made a "Top 10 Things We Love About Dad" list for his birthday. I mentioned his sense of humor. John and Smidge gave that an enthusiastic thumbs up. James replied, "Yeah, he's usually pretty funny."
2.5 out of 3 isn't bad.
***********************************
"Wow. That sounds like the Marshall Tucker Band."
"This is the Marshall Tucker Band doing Cheap Trick?"
"No. It's Dwight Yoakam doing the Marshall Tucker Band doing Cheap Trick."
"What'd we pay for this?"
************************************
And this was a quiet night.
Kiss those babies! (And no, the dog wasn't harmed in the making of the party plans. But he IS sleeping outside tonight.)
Dy
"Yeah. We could try that."
***********************************
"Hey, can we paint a skull and crossbones on the dog for the party?"
"Sure. We'll cut off a leg, too. And give him a peg leg. No, a hook!"
"We could poke his eye out, too, while we're at it."
***********************************
"...not a grammatition. Or is it a grammarian?"
"I dunno. Grammatard?"
***********************************
"Do you think the smell is God's way of punishing you for farting in the first place?"
***********************************
"Wanna help me blog tonight?"
"Sure. I've thought up some new ethnic jokes you could try out."
*blink* *blink* "What?"
"No. Not really."
***********************************
"Man, Balto really smells funny."
*sniff* "OH, GOD, he got skunked! Get him out of here!"
"Huh. I knew something wasn't right."
***********************************
The boys and I made a "Top 10 Things We Love About Dad" list for his birthday. I mentioned his sense of humor. John and Smidge gave that an enthusiastic thumbs up. James replied, "Yeah, he's usually pretty funny."
2.5 out of 3 isn't bad.
***********************************
"Wow. That sounds like the Marshall Tucker Band."
"This is the Marshall Tucker Band doing Cheap Trick?"
"No. It's Dwight Yoakam doing the Marshall Tucker Band doing Cheap Trick."
"What'd we pay for this?"
************************************
And this was a quiet night.
Kiss those babies! (And no, the dog wasn't harmed in the making of the party plans. But he IS sleeping outside tonight.)
Dy
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