Me: Honey, please keep your fingers off of that car, it's not ours.
She listens, then proceeds to scribble in the raindrops on our van.
Me: Honey, what are you doing?
Her: I'm collecting raindrops.
/ooooookay/
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Exchange with the white-haired guy at the party
Him: There's wine over here?
Me: Yes. Here's a nice one I'm drinking, it's from oh-three.
Him: (picks up the bottle) Oh-three? Huh. That's about as old as me.
Me: I said oh-three not aught-three.
/thank you, I'll be here all night!/
Me: Yes. Here's a nice one I'm drinking, it's from oh-three.
Him: (picks up the bottle) Oh-three? Huh. That's about as old as me.
Me: I said oh-three not aught-three.
/thank you, I'll be here all night!/
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Just a link ... okay some commentary
When I was in the second grade we moved in with Grandma and Grandpa. Mom and Dad had gotten divorced, and *oops!* didn't figure out the mortgage payments, so Mom lost the house.
In one big huge swoop, uncles and aunts descended on the house, packed it all into a U-haul, and we moved about two hours south.
We lived there for the school year.
My second grade teacher, Ms Fredrickson (wow, that flowed easily, I've been trying to remember it for years), would reward our math and spelling homework/class work with little Garfield cutouts.
These were run on the ditto machine, a large press with a drum that was noisy, and printed in blue ink (cutting edge for the day). And, mostly, they were on goldenrod paper. Sort of a simple sticker, except it involved Scotch tape on the back of the paper.
Being that Garfield was our unofficial mascot, I became slightly obsessed with the desire to order all the Garfield books that came in the book orders. I picked up about 8 or so books that year (thanks, Mom!).
All this to post one of the funniest links that I've seen in awhile: Garfield minus Garfield.
Certainly worth the time.
In one big huge swoop, uncles and aunts descended on the house, packed it all into a U-haul, and we moved about two hours south.
We lived there for the school year.
My second grade teacher, Ms Fredrickson (wow, that flowed easily, I've been trying to remember it for years), would reward our math and spelling homework/class work with little Garfield cutouts.
These were run on the ditto machine, a large press with a drum that was noisy, and printed in blue ink (cutting edge for the day). And, mostly, they were on goldenrod paper. Sort of a simple sticker, except it involved Scotch tape on the back of the paper.
Being that Garfield was our unofficial mascot, I became slightly obsessed with the desire to order all the Garfield books that came in the book orders. I picked up about 8 or so books that year (thanks, Mom!).
All this to post one of the funniest links that I've seen in awhile: Garfield minus Garfield.
Certainly worth the time.
Sears Refrigerator Model Number Guide
I'm in the process of cleaning my room (it's a beautiful day to do this).
I came across a handy-dandy, trusty-dusty guide to refrigerator models manufactured for Sears.
Back story:
In 2005 we went to my Dad's house for Thanksgiving. The fridge went out. Repair guy came up to see how things are. It couldn't be replaced ... had a pump that was recalled 20 years ago, but it worked better than the ones that were exploding or something.
Anyhow, here's who manufactures what for Sears. It's the first three digits of the model number:
106 Whirlpool
253 Frigidaire
363 GE
596 Amana
795 LG
I came across a handy-dandy, trusty-dusty guide to refrigerator models manufactured for Sears.
Back story:
In 2005 we went to my Dad's house for Thanksgiving. The fridge went out. Repair guy came up to see how things are. It couldn't be replaced ... had a pump that was recalled 20 years ago, but it worked better than the ones that were exploding or something.
Anyhow, here's who manufactures what for Sears. It's the first three digits of the model number:
106 Whirlpool
253 Frigidaire
363 GE
596 Amana
795 LG
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Well, at least I don't smell like a bathroom today
First grader: *sniff* "Yummmy. What smells so exquisite?"
Me: "Chili, for dinner tonight."
First grader: "Wow, dad."
/she normally throws a fit with my chili/
Me: "Chili, for dinner tonight."
First grader: "Wow, dad."
/she normally throws a fit with my chili/
With the Jiffy Lube lady
Deb: Say, did anyone ever tell you that you look like the actor from Superman?
Me: Nope.
Me: Nope.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Losing to the just about 3 year old
Me: "So, do you want to come with me or stay here with (your uncle)?"
Her: "Ahhhhhhh. I stay here."
Me: "Please go ask your uncle if he will watch you"
Her: "No, I stay here with you, and (uncle) go."
/sigh/
Her: "Ahhhhhhh. I stay here."
Me: "Please go ask your uncle if he will watch you"
Her: "No, I stay here with you, and (uncle) go."
/sigh/
Woah.
So, apparently it's really scraping the bottom.
I'm not officially anything (and have schedule things to clear up today and tomorrow), and the phone was ringing this morning trying to woo me to go teach.
Dang.
I'll be up and running early next week with this thing.
I'm not officially anything (and have schedule things to clear up today and tomorrow), and the phone was ringing this morning trying to woo me to go teach.
Dang.
I'll be up and running early next week with this thing.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Morton Salt
It's been since 2005 that I've been on a formal payroll. 2006 was the last year I worked for money.
Dang.
Well, today was one of those days.
I finished my district training to be an emergency substitute teacher. What does that mean? It means I have a degree in a subject, and I passed the background check. Ultimately it means that when they reach the bottom of the substitute barrel, and they scrape a little off, they can then call me.
I suppose there might be exceptions, but that sounds like how it's going to be.
It's $105 a day (not too bad). And a full day means anything beyond 4 hours.
It should be pretty nice.
No sooner do I get home, when potential future employer mentioned a couple of weeks ago let me know that I've been asked to fly to MD at the end of April for a week-long training program.
So, it's shaping up to being a busy spring.
Very busy.
Dang.
Well, today was one of those days.
I finished my district training to be an emergency substitute teacher. What does that mean? It means I have a degree in a subject, and I passed the background check. Ultimately it means that when they reach the bottom of the substitute barrel, and they scrape a little off, they can then call me.
I suppose there might be exceptions, but that sounds like how it's going to be.
It's $105 a day (not too bad). And a full day means anything beyond 4 hours.
It should be pretty nice.
No sooner do I get home, when potential future employer mentioned a couple of weeks ago let me know that I've been asked to fly to MD at the end of April for a week-long training program.
So, it's shaping up to being a busy spring.
Very busy.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
What's for dinner
I was at Costco a week or two ago, and fell in love with its meat.
Actually, it was a simple 8 pound roast. It looked all meaty, with just enough fat and marbling through and through.
I just had to have a reason to make some.
Today is that day.
Chickadee invited jcbetty over for some dinner. They're obligated (as it our tradition here) to bring a dessert and a bottle of wine. The wine's the tradition.
So, in the roast went to cook at 250 for most of the morning. I just jacked it up to 350 for a few hours (it'll go to 375 when I go to bake the challa).
Oh, yeah. I'm baking my own Challa today. I find it to be a simple, tasty bread that is good to break with new friends. We'll see how it goes.
My heart broke when I learned that our friends are not garlic people, as I was going to roast the garlic before putting it into my mashed potatoes.
It'll be okay, I might break for the store for some shallots or something that would offer a similar, but less intense flavor. Though, I'd be tempted to caramelize the shallots to serve just on top of the potatoes.
Oh, I'll also cook some carrots. I"m thinking I might be up for jullian carrots, but depends on how much time I want to spend cutting.
In all, it should be good to go by this afternoon when they get here.
Actually, it was a simple 8 pound roast. It looked all meaty, with just enough fat and marbling through and through.
I just had to have a reason to make some.
Today is that day.
Chickadee invited jcbetty over for some dinner. They're obligated (as it our tradition here) to bring a dessert and a bottle of wine. The wine's the tradition.
So, in the roast went to cook at 250 for most of the morning. I just jacked it up to 350 for a few hours (it'll go to 375 when I go to bake the challa).
Oh, yeah. I'm baking my own Challa today. I find it to be a simple, tasty bread that is good to break with new friends. We'll see how it goes.
My heart broke when I learned that our friends are not garlic people, as I was going to roast the garlic before putting it into my mashed potatoes.
It'll be okay, I might break for the store for some shallots or something that would offer a similar, but less intense flavor. Though, I'd be tempted to caramelize the shallots to serve just on top of the potatoes.
Oh, I'll also cook some carrots. I"m thinking I might be up for jullian carrots, but depends on how much time I want to spend cutting.
In all, it should be good to go by this afternoon when they get here.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Conversations with a 7 year old
Her: You smell good, daddy.
Me: Thanks.
Her: You smell wonderful ... a bit like grandpa Tom and grandma Susan's bathroom.
Me: Uh, thanks.
Me: Thanks.
Her: You smell wonderful ... a bit like grandpa Tom and grandma Susan's bathroom.
Me: Uh, thanks.
Monday, February 11, 2008
5 year old speaks
Me: "Please stop blowing bubbles in your milk"
Him: "Dad, do you know what's making me do this?"
Me: "Uh, you are deciding to do it."
Him: "It's my bad germs."
/I give up/
Him: "Dad, do you know what's making me do this?"
Me: "Uh, you are deciding to do it."
Him: "It's my bad germs."
/I give up/
Monday, February 4, 2008
Two weeks in brief
Two weeks ago:
I received word that after 93 years, 15 days of good life, my Grandmother passed away.
It's hard. She's the furthest back I can go for knowing who my ancestors are personally. She and my mom's dad divorced back in the 'good old days' of the 1940s (when 'nobody' did that type of thing). It's kind of a secret that slowly eeked into common knowledge. So much so that I was out of college before I had been able to place most of it together.
She's the one that hosted elaborate dinner parties, with name cards for each guest ... good silver ... and good cooking.
I'm sad she never met my niece. But, very fortunate that each of her cousins, my children, were able to meet her, at least the oldest will be able to remember.
One week ago, I sat in a retirement community with Grandpa.
In February, he'll turn 91.
Last year, the youngest and I flew to celebrate his 90th birthday.
He and grandma were married for 57 years. Genetically, there is no direct relation. But you know, that doesn't matter. At all.
He opened his home to us when mom lost the house to foreclosure in the early 1980s. We lived with the two of them for about 8 months straight, and then again for three months in the summer.
We sat and we chatted about those times ... the massive amounts of popcorn we ate ... the, the, generosity of his heart.
We chatted as we sat, both avoiding the fact that it would, very, very likely be the last time we saw each other. It was only a half hour, but I relished each second.
He loves each of our grandchildren. He holds family and those relationships as the highest priority.
He complimented chickadee's and my children for being well behaved ... well mannered ... and just good children.
The weest one gave him a hug and a kiss ... the middle one slept ... the eldest took pictures.
I took in the conversation, the precious minutes and seconds.
Then, he nodded a bit, ready for a nap.
We hugged, the only type of hug a six foot tall man can give a nearly 91 year old who is weak from losing his spouse of 57 years ... the type of hug where you're afraid to squeeze too hard because you think someone might break ... but the type of hug where you don't want to let go, so you memorize the roughness of an unshaven cheek, the light peck on the cheek, and the "thank you" repeated two or three times as you pull away, and look in their eyes.
We left and he stayed.
It was difficult.
I received word that after 93 years, 15 days of good life, my Grandmother passed away.
It's hard. She's the furthest back I can go for knowing who my ancestors are personally. She and my mom's dad divorced back in the 'good old days' of the 1940s (when 'nobody' did that type of thing). It's kind of a secret that slowly eeked into common knowledge. So much so that I was out of college before I had been able to place most of it together.
She's the one that hosted elaborate dinner parties, with name cards for each guest ... good silver ... and good cooking.
I'm sad she never met my niece. But, very fortunate that each of her cousins, my children, were able to meet her, at least the oldest will be able to remember.
One week ago, I sat in a retirement community with Grandpa.
In February, he'll turn 91.
Last year, the youngest and I flew to celebrate his 90th birthday.
He and grandma were married for 57 years. Genetically, there is no direct relation. But you know, that doesn't matter. At all.
He opened his home to us when mom lost the house to foreclosure in the early 1980s. We lived with the two of them for about 8 months straight, and then again for three months in the summer.
We sat and we chatted about those times ... the massive amounts of popcorn we ate ... the, the, generosity of his heart.
We chatted as we sat, both avoiding the fact that it would, very, very likely be the last time we saw each other. It was only a half hour, but I relished each second.
He loves each of our grandchildren. He holds family and those relationships as the highest priority.
He complimented chickadee's and my children for being well behaved ... well mannered ... and just good children.
The weest one gave him a hug and a kiss ... the middle one slept ... the eldest took pictures.
I took in the conversation, the precious minutes and seconds.
Then, he nodded a bit, ready for a nap.
We hugged, the only type of hug a six foot tall man can give a nearly 91 year old who is weak from losing his spouse of 57 years ... the type of hug where you're afraid to squeeze too hard because you think someone might break ... but the type of hug where you don't want to let go, so you memorize the roughness of an unshaven cheek, the light peck on the cheek, and the "thank you" repeated two or three times as you pull away, and look in their eyes.
We left and he stayed.
It was difficult.
Happy moment!
As of today, I'm the bottom of the list.
It was hard work to get that far.
You see, since Oct. 24 I've had my application in to be an emergency substitute teacher in our school district.
Today, I got the call, drove the 70 miles round trip to turn in the proper form and pick up my temporary permit.
Wednesday is my orientation.
It'll be a great little supplemental income project.
I'm looking forward to it.
It was hard work to get that far.
You see, since Oct. 24 I've had my application in to be an emergency substitute teacher in our school district.
Today, I got the call, drove the 70 miles round trip to turn in the proper form and pick up my temporary permit.
Wednesday is my orientation.
It'll be a great little supplemental income project.
I'm looking forward to it.
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