Catching up...
I'll catch up over the next couple of nights. We got in this evening and unpacked our stuff. As I get a change to work on the photos and blog I'll update, but here are a few teasers...
Monday, November 05, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Hunting...
disclaimer: If you aren't a hunter and are morally opposed or otherwise against hunting, stop reading now. I'm not interesting in arguing about this issue. Thank you.
Those that know me know that were getting into my favorite time of the year. I've never been into the stick and ball sports. I never really played them. One year of each sport as a kid and I knew I didn't like them. I was the kid that couldn't hit, couldn't catch, and spent the year of t-ball out in right field picking clovers without a clue as to what the hell was going on. Luckily, my Dad was a hunter. I don't know how old I was the first time I went hunting, but let's say I don't remember NOT going.
Hunting was a family deal. My Dad and grandfather (mother's dad) hunted together and I usually got to sit on the stand with one of them. My grandfather likes to tell the story of me packing 2 Hot Wheels cars (one for each of us) in the hunting bag so we could play with them in the stand. One day I'll tell more stories about that.
I've got some pretty strong feelings about hunting and the ethics involved in it. We put quite a bit of time, effort, and money into deer management out at our ranch. This involves working with local wildlife biologists and a game management program to deal with issues such as habitat, food sources - both natural and supplemental, and water. It's more than the average hunter's deal of filling the feeder with corn and sitting in a stand to wait for the deer to come.
The reward for our hard work is the ability to see quality deer. With that reward comes a few things that I view as responsibilities to make sure you are being ethical with the hunting.
My first rule is that a weapon never goes out for a hunt before it has been check for accuracy at the range. You would not believe how many people will take the rifle out of the closet and head for the woods without bothering to sight in the rifle. I've never wounded a deer or had to track a deer I've killed. I have flat missed a couple of times, but I've never wounded one. (aim at the neck - it's a small target - you will either have a clean, quick kill, or you will have a clean miss).
The second rule is that you never attempt a shot you aren't sure you can make. It's almost impossible to hit a running deer and make a clean shot, so why even attempt it? There will be another chance at another time.
I know that some people have varying opinions, and I could one day change my mind, but for now I won't shoot a doe that has a yearling with her. Some of the experts say that they are old enough to fend for themselves, but there is still something about it that I don't like.
That's some of my main thoughts. I should probably say that while I really like hunting, part of what I like is the watching. I haven't killed a deer in a couple of years now. I've seen a bunch, but I've mainly enjoyed watching them do what deer do. One of these days I'll remember to take some pictures while I'm watching them.
I'll write more on this subject in the next couple of weeks.
Is there anyone else reading here that enjoys sitting in the woods watching the wildlife do their thing?
disclaimer: If you aren't a hunter and are morally opposed or otherwise against hunting, stop reading now. I'm not interesting in arguing about this issue. Thank you.
Those that know me know that were getting into my favorite time of the year. I've never been into the stick and ball sports. I never really played them. One year of each sport as a kid and I knew I didn't like them. I was the kid that couldn't hit, couldn't catch, and spent the year of t-ball out in right field picking clovers without a clue as to what the hell was going on. Luckily, my Dad was a hunter. I don't know how old I was the first time I went hunting, but let's say I don't remember NOT going.
Hunting was a family deal. My Dad and grandfather (mother's dad) hunted together and I usually got to sit on the stand with one of them. My grandfather likes to tell the story of me packing 2 Hot Wheels cars (one for each of us) in the hunting bag so we could play with them in the stand. One day I'll tell more stories about that.
I've got some pretty strong feelings about hunting and the ethics involved in it. We put quite a bit of time, effort, and money into deer management out at our ranch. This involves working with local wildlife biologists and a game management program to deal with issues such as habitat, food sources - both natural and supplemental, and water. It's more than the average hunter's deal of filling the feeder with corn and sitting in a stand to wait for the deer to come.
The reward for our hard work is the ability to see quality deer. With that reward comes a few things that I view as responsibilities to make sure you are being ethical with the hunting.
My first rule is that a weapon never goes out for a hunt before it has been check for accuracy at the range. You would not believe how many people will take the rifle out of the closet and head for the woods without bothering to sight in the rifle. I've never wounded a deer or had to track a deer I've killed. I have flat missed a couple of times, but I've never wounded one. (aim at the neck - it's a small target - you will either have a clean, quick kill, or you will have a clean miss).
The second rule is that you never attempt a shot you aren't sure you can make. It's almost impossible to hit a running deer and make a clean shot, so why even attempt it? There will be another chance at another time.
I know that some people have varying opinions, and I could one day change my mind, but for now I won't shoot a doe that has a yearling with her. Some of the experts say that they are old enough to fend for themselves, but there is still something about it that I don't like.
That's some of my main thoughts. I should probably say that while I really like hunting, part of what I like is the watching. I haven't killed a deer in a couple of years now. I've seen a bunch, but I've mainly enjoyed watching them do what deer do. One of these days I'll remember to take some pictures while I'm watching them.
I'll write more on this subject in the next couple of weeks.
Is there anyone else reading here that enjoys sitting in the woods watching the wildlife do their thing?
MICE...
A week or so ago, Shelly was organizing a few things in the pantry and came across evidence of a critter loose in the house. A package of peanut butter cheese crackers had been chewed on and some little droppings were on the bottom shelf. Let me tell you, there is NEVER just one mouse when you see evidence of a critter.
I went out and picked up a couple of glue traps and put them in the pantry, baited with a piece of animal cracker and a dab of peanut butter. That should get them. The next morning, one of my traps had been successful - sort of. The trap was moved and had all sorts of mouse hair and droppings on it, but no mouse. It must have been a heck of a show during the night. I wonder what Sweetie the Chihuahua thought about it. Surely she heard the commotion from her bed not 10 feet away.
Well, I moved the traps around a little, and put one in the garage behind the freezer where there was some mouse poop. About an hour later, I had a mouse. A quick thump to the head and he was history. One down, hopefully not many more to go. Back in late 2001 we had a mouse in the house. A couple of months later, I had caught 14 or 15 mice, one rat, and one baby rabbit on my glue traps. (the baby rabbit was carefully removed and went on to be eaten by a resident owl a short-time later). Thankfully, MOST of the critters were in the garage and not in the house.
Well, fast forward to Saturday. We had gone to the College Station to see the Aggies play (that's another rant for another day). We got home pretty late and I was checking the traps. I was looking in the corner of the garage near one of my storage cabinets that REALLY needed to be cleaned out and saw more mouse sign. Lots of mouse sign. Like lots of paper and stuff that had been chewed up I opened the cabinet and saw IT. A mouse nest. Crap, those little jokers were setting up housekeeping in my garage. No mice visible, but there was a nest. I set a glue trap and also put out a fancy new electric trap I bought. War has been declared.
This new electric trap is pretty slick. You put in 4 AA batteries and put a little bit of peanut butter in the trap. When Mr Mouse walks in to get his snack and steps on the little metal plates ZAP! I'm happy to report, the trap works as advertised. 2 Mousies down.
I got up early Sunday morning and started cleaning the garage. A full I have a trashcan full of JUNK that needed to be thrown out and found another nest in the clutter. In the next night or two, I'll finish the job and once again have both cars in the garage.
I wonder how many more I'll find. I checked tonight and there were no more signs (droppings) in the areas I cleaned out yesterday, so maybe there aren't too many more. One can only hope...
A week or so ago, Shelly was organizing a few things in the pantry and came across evidence of a critter loose in the house. A package of peanut butter cheese crackers had been chewed on and some little droppings were on the bottom shelf. Let me tell you, there is NEVER just one mouse when you see evidence of a critter.
I went out and picked up a couple of glue traps and put them in the pantry, baited with a piece of animal cracker and a dab of peanut butter. That should get them. The next morning, one of my traps had been successful - sort of. The trap was moved and had all sorts of mouse hair and droppings on it, but no mouse. It must have been a heck of a show during the night. I wonder what Sweetie the Chihuahua thought about it. Surely she heard the commotion from her bed not 10 feet away.
Well, I moved the traps around a little, and put one in the garage behind the freezer where there was some mouse poop. About an hour later, I had a mouse. A quick thump to the head and he was history. One down, hopefully not many more to go. Back in late 2001 we had a mouse in the house. A couple of months later, I had caught 14 or 15 mice, one rat, and one baby rabbit on my glue traps. (the baby rabbit was carefully removed and went on to be eaten by a resident owl a short-time later). Thankfully, MOST of the critters were in the garage and not in the house.
Well, fast forward to Saturday. We had gone to the College Station to see the Aggies play (that's another rant for another day). We got home pretty late and I was checking the traps. I was looking in the corner of the garage near one of my storage cabinets that REALLY needed to be cleaned out and saw more mouse sign. Lots of mouse sign. Like lots of paper and stuff that had been chewed up I opened the cabinet and saw IT. A mouse nest. Crap, those little jokers were setting up housekeeping in my garage. No mice visible, but there was a nest. I set a glue trap and also put out a fancy new electric trap I bought. War has been declared.
This new electric trap is pretty slick. You put in 4 AA batteries and put a little bit of peanut butter in the trap. When Mr Mouse walks in to get his snack and steps on the little metal plates ZAP! I'm happy to report, the trap works as advertised. 2 Mousies down.
I got up early Sunday morning and started cleaning the garage. A full I have a trashcan full of JUNK that needed to be thrown out and found another nest in the clutter. In the next night or two, I'll finish the job and once again have both cars in the garage.
I wonder how many more I'll find. I checked tonight and there were no more signs (droppings) in the areas I cleaned out yesterday, so maybe there aren't too many more. One can only hope...
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Preempted...
Shelly claims that she needs the computer tonight for legitimate purposes. We took a vote on whether her use was more important than blogging. Matthew and I voted for blogging. Shelly claimed that her one vote was the winner.
I may need to request a recount. Must have been some illegals or dead people voting on her side when I wasn't looking. Maybe Al Sharpton will come supervise the recount...
Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow.
Shelly claims that she needs the computer tonight for legitimate purposes. We took a vote on whether her use was more important than blogging. Matthew and I voted for blogging. Shelly claimed that her one vote was the winner.
I may need to request a recount. Must have been some illegals or dead people voting on her side when I wasn't looking. Maybe Al Sharpton will come supervise the recount...
Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Pop Quiz...
ok, pop quiz time. Staci, you are not allowed to answer since I already asked you.
What's the first thing you know?
I'll give you a hint... It's not your name, your mothers voice, etc. This question requires that you think outside the box a little.
Leave your answers in comments. I turned off the comment moderation for now so it's easier for you to post. What does the winner get? I don't know, how about bragging rights? Maybe I'll let you pick the topic for an upcoming post (and I can ad lib my way through a posting on your topic of choice)
Bonus joke...
Here's a bonus joke for you. It's one of my favorites (told in my best Cajun accent).
Boudreaux, Thibodeaux, Comeaux, and Fontenot were sitting around trying to think of what the fastest thing in the world is.
Boudreaux says "It has to be a thought. When you have a thought, before you know it, there it is. Now that's Fast."
Thibodeaux says "No, man, it has to be a blink. When you blink, it happens just like that (snaps fingers). Before you know it, you done blinked and it's over. You hardly even notice you've done it. That's fast."
Comeaux says "Yeah, those are fast, but Electricity is even faster. When you turn on the light switch, BOOM, the lights are on. When you turn the switch off, BOOM, darkness. Now that's fast."
Fontenot said, "Yeah, those are fast, but the fastest thing in the world is diarrhea." The others said "You're crazy. How do you figure that it's faster than the other stuff?" Fontenot answers "Well, when I woke up this morning with diarrhea, before I could think, blink, or turn on the lights, I done crapped my pants."
That my friends, is fast.
ok, pop quiz time. Staci, you are not allowed to answer since I already asked you.
What's the first thing you know?
I'll give you a hint... It's not your name, your mothers voice, etc. This question requires that you think outside the box a little.
Leave your answers in comments. I turned off the comment moderation for now so it's easier for you to post. What does the winner get? I don't know, how about bragging rights? Maybe I'll let you pick the topic for an upcoming post (and I can ad lib my way through a posting on your topic of choice)
Bonus joke...
Here's a bonus joke for you. It's one of my favorites (told in my best Cajun accent).
Boudreaux, Thibodeaux, Comeaux, and Fontenot were sitting around trying to think of what the fastest thing in the world is.
Boudreaux says "It has to be a thought. When you have a thought, before you know it, there it is. Now that's Fast."
Thibodeaux says "No, man, it has to be a blink. When you blink, it happens just like that (snaps fingers). Before you know it, you done blinked and it's over. You hardly even notice you've done it. That's fast."
Comeaux says "Yeah, those are fast, but Electricity is even faster. When you turn on the light switch, BOOM, the lights are on. When you turn the switch off, BOOM, darkness. Now that's fast."
Fontenot said, "Yeah, those are fast, but the fastest thing in the world is diarrhea." The others said "You're crazy. How do you figure that it's faster than the other stuff?" Fontenot answers "Well, when I woke up this morning with diarrhea, before I could think, blink, or turn on the lights, I done crapped my pants."
That my friends, is fast.
Big Ole Bag O' Toys...
For the last several weeks, Shelly and I have been attending a parenting course called "Love and Logic". Before Matthew was born, we took one called "Growing Kids God's Way", which is supposedly similar to Babywise. Of course, being the good parents we are, we don't put much of it into practice. We have picked up a few things. This one teaches you some ideas to get things across to the kids and get them to do what you want to do without always harping on them. Not completely bad.
I put one of the idea into motion tonight. It was time for Matthew's bath and the living room was a mess with all of his toys. I told him that all of the toys he wanted to keep, he needed to pick up. I would pick up and keep all of the ones that were left when he was "through" cleaning up. A few minutes later, he told me he was ready to go upstairs. I asked him if he was sure, there were an awful lot of toys left that I would be keeping. He was sure.
Man, he's going to be PISSED tomorrow evening when he starts looking for his toys. I seriously have about 2/3 of his toys that are currently downstairs, and almost ALL of the ones he really plays with. I have a pirate ship, "Lightening McQueen", all of his tools, all of his Hot Wheels trucks, his Bob the Builder hat, and several other items. I guess we'll see if this stuff really works.
For the last several weeks, Shelly and I have been attending a parenting course called "Love and Logic". Before Matthew was born, we took one called "Growing Kids God's Way", which is supposedly similar to Babywise. Of course, being the good parents we are, we don't put much of it into practice. We have picked up a few things. This one teaches you some ideas to get things across to the kids and get them to do what you want to do without always harping on them. Not completely bad.
I put one of the idea into motion tonight. It was time for Matthew's bath and the living room was a mess with all of his toys. I told him that all of the toys he wanted to keep, he needed to pick up. I would pick up and keep all of the ones that were left when he was "through" cleaning up. A few minutes later, he told me he was ready to go upstairs. I asked him if he was sure, there were an awful lot of toys left that I would be keeping. He was sure.
Man, he's going to be PISSED tomorrow evening when he starts looking for his toys. I seriously have about 2/3 of his toys that are currently downstairs, and almost ALL of the ones he really plays with. I have a pirate ship, "Lightening McQueen", all of his tools, all of his Hot Wheels trucks, his Bob the Builder hat, and several other items. I guess we'll see if this stuff really works.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Redirected...
Growing up, my family never was into camping, but I've always thought it was fun. I camped out when I was in the boy scouts as a kid, but nothing since then. That changed this year. Last Christmas I asked for and received a tent. This isn't just any tent, it's an SUV tent.
The problem with the camping is that in the Houston area, there are very few weekends that are suitable for tent camping. It's too hot most of the year, and raining the rest of the time. But, I'm determined to take my son camping, so on the 2 or 3 good weekends each year, we'll go out and sleep in the tent. One thing I learned on our first outing... Camping is fun and relaxing, but when doing it by yourself with a 3 year old, it's a TON of work. Did I mention that Shelly gave me the tent with the stipulation that I not involve her in any of my "fun"?
Shelly is not a camper, especially not a tent camper. Unfortunately, more deluxe camping accommodations (RV, etc) are not in the budget, and apparently never will be while she is involved with our finances. Have I mentioned that she has the initials CPA and CFP behind her name? Needless to say, that argument is pretty much done - no RV for this camper.
As of last weekend, the plan for this weekend involved loading up the camping gear and a certain 3 year old for a trip to the local state park. The weather is perfect, the Chamber of Commerce would be proud of the weather we are having. Mid 80's during the day, high 50's overnight. You couldn't order up better camping weather. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Apparently, there were many chores for me for this weekend that were deemed more important than camping with the little guy.
What's so important? I think it must be nesting. Most pregnant women supposedly go through it at some point. Well, she's jumping in with both feet. A professional organizer spent part of the day at our house on Friday to help Shelly figure out how to best deal with the mountain of stuff that is our kitchen. This spills over into the pantry and laundry room since they are all in the same vicinity. The time with the organizer was a gift from Shelly's mother. Unfortunately, the $200 trip to The Container Store last night wasn't included in that gift.
So, instead of spending the afternoon in communing with nature, I hung up all manner of racks, sorters, broom hangy things, etc, etc. Really, that was just an hour or so. I also mowed, edged, weed-eated, trimmed bushes, took the truck for an oil change / transmission service (wasn't in the mood to do it myself), and had both cars washed. After that, I went to the grocery store, cooked dinner, then cleaned up after dinner. Yes, Shelly was busy today also, but this is my blog - if she wants to talk about her busy day, she can get her own blog.
The consolation - Shelly has agreed to go camping with Matthew and me in a couple of weeks. I'll let you know how that goes when it happens.
In other news today - the Aggies beat Nebraska. Ok, so Nebraska sucks this year, but at least it wasn't another loss for the Aggies. Yes, Katie, even with the win, Fran should still keep working to find a good realtor. Maybe he'll even sneak out in the middle of the night like he did for you guys. I still say it's pretty sad when our 300 lb running back has the 2 longest passes this year (50+ yards each) and our QB has the most rushing yards on the team.
Growing up, my family never was into camping, but I've always thought it was fun. I camped out when I was in the boy scouts as a kid, but nothing since then. That changed this year. Last Christmas I asked for and received a tent. This isn't just any tent, it's an SUV tent.
The problem with the camping is that in the Houston area, there are very few weekends that are suitable for tent camping. It's too hot most of the year, and raining the rest of the time. But, I'm determined to take my son camping, so on the 2 or 3 good weekends each year, we'll go out and sleep in the tent. One thing I learned on our first outing... Camping is fun and relaxing, but when doing it by yourself with a 3 year old, it's a TON of work. Did I mention that Shelly gave me the tent with the stipulation that I not involve her in any of my "fun"?
Shelly is not a camper, especially not a tent camper. Unfortunately, more deluxe camping accommodations (RV, etc) are not in the budget, and apparently never will be while she is involved with our finances. Have I mentioned that she has the initials CPA and CFP behind her name? Needless to say, that argument is pretty much done - no RV for this camper.
As of last weekend, the plan for this weekend involved loading up the camping gear and a certain 3 year old for a trip to the local state park. The weather is perfect, the Chamber of Commerce would be proud of the weather we are having. Mid 80's during the day, high 50's overnight. You couldn't order up better camping weather. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Apparently, there were many chores for me for this weekend that were deemed more important than camping with the little guy.
What's so important? I think it must be nesting. Most pregnant women supposedly go through it at some point. Well, she's jumping in with both feet. A professional organizer spent part of the day at our house on Friday to help Shelly figure out how to best deal with the mountain of stuff that is our kitchen. This spills over into the pantry and laundry room since they are all in the same vicinity. The time with the organizer was a gift from Shelly's mother. Unfortunately, the $200 trip to The Container Store last night wasn't included in that gift.
So, instead of spending the afternoon in communing with nature, I hung up all manner of racks, sorters, broom hangy things, etc, etc. Really, that was just an hour or so. I also mowed, edged, weed-eated, trimmed bushes, took the truck for an oil change / transmission service (wasn't in the mood to do it myself), and had both cars washed. After that, I went to the grocery store, cooked dinner, then cleaned up after dinner. Yes, Shelly was busy today also, but this is my blog - if she wants to talk about her busy day, she can get her own blog.
The consolation - Shelly has agreed to go camping with Matthew and me in a couple of weeks. I'll let you know how that goes when it happens.
In other news today - the Aggies beat Nebraska. Ok, so Nebraska sucks this year, but at least it wasn't another loss for the Aggies. Yes, Katie, even with the win, Fran should still keep working to find a good realtor. Maybe he'll even sneak out in the middle of the night like he did for you guys. I still say it's pretty sad when our 300 lb running back has the 2 longest passes this year (50+ yards each) and our QB has the most rushing yards on the team.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Frog Hunting...
I guess it is the unusually wet spring and summer we have had, but we have a TON of frogs. As a matter of fact, we had just over 5 inches of rain at my house Monday afternoon. The frogs seem to keep themselves pretty well hidden during the day, but at night they are pretty easy to find. They seem to mostly hang out around the edges of the flowerbeds, near the stone borders, and along the edges of the sidewalk, right where the grass meets the concrete.
Several weeks ago, I took Matthew out with a couple of flashlights and we went "frog hunting". Well, the kid now loves frogs. He insists on frog hunting almost every night. He stalks the frogs with a flashlight. Once he finds one, I shine my light on it and he puts his light next to the frog and the frog. After holding it for a second and laughing, he places them in the grass.
Last night, he picked up a little frog. just before he put the frog down, I heard "hey, the froggy tee-teed on my hand". That was pretty funny, especially coming from a kid that a few months ago hated to have dirty hands. Yes, I did teach him that we have to wash our hands good with soap after handling frogs...
Well, tonight, Matthew wasn't having any part of missing out on the frog hunt, so we grabbed our lights and hit the sidewalk. After finding several, I sent him in the house while I retrieved a few items from my car. As I walked in the house, Shelly was leading Matthew out saying something along the lines of "I don't allow frogs in my house". Evidently, Matthew faked dropping the last frog and carried him in the house.
Yep, he's ALL boy. I guess now we'll have to start checking his pockets to make sure no critters get snuck into the house.
I guess it is the unusually wet spring and summer we have had, but we have a TON of frogs. As a matter of fact, we had just over 5 inches of rain at my house Monday afternoon. The frogs seem to keep themselves pretty well hidden during the day, but at night they are pretty easy to find. They seem to mostly hang out around the edges of the flowerbeds, near the stone borders, and along the edges of the sidewalk, right where the grass meets the concrete.
Several weeks ago, I took Matthew out with a couple of flashlights and we went "frog hunting". Well, the kid now loves frogs. He insists on frog hunting almost every night. He stalks the frogs with a flashlight. Once he finds one, I shine my light on it and he puts his light next to the frog and the frog. After holding it for a second and laughing, he places them in the grass.
Last night, he picked up a little frog. just before he put the frog down, I heard "hey, the froggy tee-teed on my hand". That was pretty funny, especially coming from a kid that a few months ago hated to have dirty hands. Yes, I did teach him that we have to wash our hands good with soap after handling frogs...
Well, tonight, Matthew wasn't having any part of missing out on the frog hunt, so we grabbed our lights and hit the sidewalk. After finding several, I sent him in the house while I retrieved a few items from my car. As I walked in the house, Shelly was leading Matthew out saying something along the lines of "I don't allow frogs in my house". Evidently, Matthew faked dropping the last frog and carried him in the house.
Yep, he's ALL boy. I guess now we'll have to start checking his pockets to make sure no critters get snuck into the house.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Comcast Sucks...
We have been sheep for many years. TV from the local cable company, high speed internet from the same group. Phone has always been with BellSouth, AT&T, or whoever the local remnant of what once was Bell Telephone is. When you do it that way, you likely pay more.
Well, we pay in the $90 range for the basic digital cable and broadband internet. They were through Time Warner, but Comcast recently took over. It's not a good change. The price of the cable boxes went up to $7 each, and the sports package is going from $4 to $8. They are also starting to charge a rental fee for the cable modem, which was always free from Time Warner. Basically, nickle and diming you to death.
They have been really pushing the VOIP phone deal, and have been advertising a $99 deal for digital cable, cable internet, and the VOIP phone deal (Phone over the cable internet). Shelly called and held for over 20 minutes. when the guy finally answered the phone, he told her we were not eligible since we were already customers. It would cost us about $130 or so. No negotiation, no customer courtesy adjustments available.
Looks like Direct TV and DSL are in our future. Shelly writes the checks to pay the bills, and they pissed her off. Basically, they bit the hand...
What do you want to bet that they kiss my butt 9 ways from Sunday and offer me the moon when we call to cancel?
We have been sheep for many years. TV from the local cable company, high speed internet from the same group. Phone has always been with BellSouth, AT&T, or whoever the local remnant of what once was Bell Telephone is. When you do it that way, you likely pay more.
Well, we pay in the $90 range for the basic digital cable and broadband internet. They were through Time Warner, but Comcast recently took over. It's not a good change. The price of the cable boxes went up to $7 each, and the sports package is going from $4 to $8. They are also starting to charge a rental fee for the cable modem, which was always free from Time Warner. Basically, nickle and diming you to death.
They have been really pushing the VOIP phone deal, and have been advertising a $99 deal for digital cable, cable internet, and the VOIP phone deal (Phone over the cable internet). Shelly called and held for over 20 minutes. when the guy finally answered the phone, he told her we were not eligible since we were already customers. It would cost us about $130 or so. No negotiation, no customer courtesy adjustments available.
Looks like Direct TV and DSL are in our future. Shelly writes the checks to pay the bills, and they pissed her off. Basically, they bit the hand...
What do you want to bet that they kiss my butt 9 ways from Sunday and offer me the moon when we call to cancel?
(un)SCREWED...
Last night, after dinner, I heard Shelly in the living room "Where do all of these screws keep coming from?" There were 8-10 little silver screws on the living room floor. She found a few more the day or so before also. After investigating a little, I noticed Matthew playing with Felipe'. For the parents of little kids, that is a character from Disney Channel's Handy Manny. Felipe' is the Phillips head screwdriver. Ok, he has several toy screwdrivers, etc, but somewhere he had found one of my real screwdrivers.
The mystery was starting to come together... Now, where did the screws come from? Was our house about to collapse from missing fasteners? It IS a Pulte home... After a quick check, it was discovered that a couple of his toys had empty holes where screws once lived. After a good laugh, and banishing Felipe' back to Daddy's toolbox in the garage, we could once again say "This Mystery Is History"
Last night, after dinner, I heard Shelly in the living room "Where do all of these screws keep coming from?" There were 8-10 little silver screws on the living room floor. She found a few more the day or so before also. After investigating a little, I noticed Matthew playing with Felipe'. For the parents of little kids, that is a character from Disney Channel's Handy Manny. Felipe' is the Phillips head screwdriver. Ok, he has several toy screwdrivers, etc, but somewhere he had found one of my real screwdrivers.
The mystery was starting to come together... Now, where did the screws come from? Was our house about to collapse from missing fasteners? It IS a Pulte home... After a quick check, it was discovered that a couple of his toys had empty holes where screws once lived. After a good laugh, and banishing Felipe' back to Daddy's toolbox in the garage, we could once again say "This Mystery Is History"
Monday, October 15, 2007
Blaming the dog...
While I was out of town for the weekend, my parents kept Matthew so Shelly could get a little rest and get caught up on some stuff around the house. Matthew had a ball, especially since my sisters daughter that is about the same age was also there with him.
At one point on Saturday, Matthew and Allison were playing in the sandbox on the back patio and Matthew had to use the bathroom. Of course, for him that means stripping from the waist down and peeing off the edge of the patio. That's my boy. Even funnier was that earlier in the day he had done the same thing, and Allison also stripped down and was trying to pee off the patio like Matthew did. Poor thing. Mom had to explain to her that little girls couldn't do it like that. Matthew had announced several times this week "Only boys" when asked about "tee-teeing in the grass".
Well, this time, Matthew needed to take care of a little more than just whizzing off the patio. He announced that he had to poop. Before Mom could tell him that they needed to go in the house, he turned around, stuck his behind out a little and dropped one right on the patio. My parents didn't know what to think. Of course, they called me and gave me a hard time about raising a kid that would do such a thing.
Now, the question is - Where on Earth did he learn such a thing?
I blame the dog. She does it all the time.
While I was out of town for the weekend, my parents kept Matthew so Shelly could get a little rest and get caught up on some stuff around the house. Matthew had a ball, especially since my sisters daughter that is about the same age was also there with him.
At one point on Saturday, Matthew and Allison were playing in the sandbox on the back patio and Matthew had to use the bathroom. Of course, for him that means stripping from the waist down and peeing off the edge of the patio. That's my boy. Even funnier was that earlier in the day he had done the same thing, and Allison also stripped down and was trying to pee off the patio like Matthew did. Poor thing. Mom had to explain to her that little girls couldn't do it like that. Matthew had announced several times this week "Only boys" when asked about "tee-teeing in the grass".
Well, this time, Matthew needed to take care of a little more than just whizzing off the patio. He announced that he had to poop. Before Mom could tell him that they needed to go in the house, he turned around, stuck his behind out a little and dropped one right on the patio. My parents didn't know what to think. Of course, they called me and gave me a hard time about raising a kid that would do such a thing.
Now, the question is - Where on Earth did he learn such a thing?
I blame the dog. She does it all the time.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Whooped...
That's Southern for TIRED. Or is it whuped?
Bro-in-law and I headed up to the ranch Friday evening to get things ready for deer season. The guy that looks after things at the ranch for us took care of the food plots for us. I think he planted 2,000 lbs of oats, so our food plats are going to be pretty nice this year. With that done, all we had to do was was fill the feeders and check all of the stands for wasps. Sounds easy, huh? Well, 1300 lbs of corn, 100 lbs of milo (for the wild turkeys), a bunch of grass cutting, and several cans of wasp spray later, we're through.
Thankfully, the weather was near perfect. It was in the lower 80's with a decent breeze, and it sure felt good to be working outside. We started early Saturday morning, and knocked out most of it by around 2:00 or so. We stopped, had a sandwich for lunch, and then turned on the Aggie game. Man, what a disappointing game. The Aggies stunk up the place. You sort of expect more from a team with a $2 mil per year coach. Too bad we can't send him back to Alabama.
Of course, I forgot the camera, so these are pics from a few months ago.
That's Southern for TIRED. Or is it whuped?
Bro-in-law and I headed up to the ranch Friday evening to get things ready for deer season. The guy that looks after things at the ranch for us took care of the food plots for us. I think he planted 2,000 lbs of oats, so our food plats are going to be pretty nice this year. With that done, all we had to do was was fill the feeders and check all of the stands for wasps. Sounds easy, huh? Well, 1300 lbs of corn, 100 lbs of milo (for the wild turkeys), a bunch of grass cutting, and several cans of wasp spray later, we're through.
Thankfully, the weather was near perfect. It was in the lower 80's with a decent breeze, and it sure felt good to be working outside. We started early Saturday morning, and knocked out most of it by around 2:00 or so. We stopped, had a sandwich for lunch, and then turned on the Aggie game. Man, what a disappointing game. The Aggies stunk up the place. You sort of expect more from a team with a $2 mil per year coach. Too bad we can't send him back to Alabama.
Of course, I forgot the camera, so these are pics from a few months ago.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
It's that time of year again...
Fall is in the air. We have a few weeks of college football under our belts(Gig 'em Aggies), and it's time to start thinking about heading onto the woods. Folks, it's almost Hunting Season. Yes, I know dove season, and numerous other seasons have already opened, but I'm talking about Deer Season.
I'm leaving tomorrow after work for the ranch. Bro-in-law (Shelly's brother) and I are heading out to filler feeders, ready stands, relax a little, and perhaps shoot at a few doves. Of course, we also have satellite TV up there to watch the Aggies and the NASCAR race. I promise, I'm not completely redneck. I still have all of my teeth, and Shelly and I were not related before we got married. Hey, I live in the South, what do you expect from me?
I'll try to take the camera out there and snap a few pictures, then I'll explain my deer hunting "style" to you. I get picked on by friends and family, but hey, you might as well enjoy yourself when you are sitting in the woods - who cares if you never really kill any deer...
In the coming weeks, I'll wash all of my camo clothes in scent free detergent, hit the rifle range, and generally be useless for anything else. Sounds like fun to me.
Fall is in the air. We have a few weeks of college football under our belts(Gig 'em Aggies), and it's time to start thinking about heading onto the woods. Folks, it's almost Hunting Season. Yes, I know dove season, and numerous other seasons have already opened, but I'm talking about Deer Season.
I'm leaving tomorrow after work for the ranch. Bro-in-law (Shelly's brother) and I are heading out to filler feeders, ready stands, relax a little, and perhaps shoot at a few doves. Of course, we also have satellite TV up there to watch the Aggies and the NASCAR race. I promise, I'm not completely redneck. I still have all of my teeth, and Shelly and I were not related before we got married. Hey, I live in the South, what do you expect from me?
I'll try to take the camera out there and snap a few pictures, then I'll explain my deer hunting "style" to you. I get picked on by friends and family, but hey, you might as well enjoy yourself when you are sitting in the woods - who cares if you never really kill any deer...
In the coming weeks, I'll wash all of my camo clothes in scent free detergent, hit the rifle range, and generally be useless for anything else. Sounds like fun to me.
Physical training starts tomorrow...
I opened the e-mail and got the message I've been waiting for. It's an invitation to join in a charity bike ride benefiting the Make A Wish Foundation. It's just less than a month away, so intense training has to start soon. I plan to start training tomorrow morning.
Of course, this deal isn't quite as big as some big name events, like the MS 150 or the Kyle Petty Charity Ride, but everyone can't participate in every event.
No, friends, this event is different. It is tailored to a different crowd. It's a bike ride like no other (Along the same lines as Frank Costanza's Festivus for the Rest of Us. - something for everyone else).
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Tour de Donut. Imagine the idea behind this deal. You hop on the bike and ride down the road. Before long, you come to a checkpoint loaded with as many donuts as you can cram in. Each donut you consume knocks 5 minutes off your ride time. Think of it... If you play your cards right by riding fast and downing donuts like that Japanese kid eats hot dogs, you could actually finish the race before you started.
How will I train? Will I drag the bike out of the shed, air up the tires, put on my little biker shorts, and strap on my helmet? Not me? I'm driving my happy butt down to Shipley's and working over a few hot glazed.
I opened the e-mail and got the message I've been waiting for. It's an invitation to join in a charity bike ride benefiting the Make A Wish Foundation. It's just less than a month away, so intense training has to start soon. I plan to start training tomorrow morning.
Of course, this deal isn't quite as big as some big name events, like the MS 150 or the Kyle Petty Charity Ride, but everyone can't participate in every event.
No, friends, this event is different. It is tailored to a different crowd. It's a bike ride like no other (Along the same lines as Frank Costanza's Festivus for the Rest of Us. - something for everyone else).
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Tour de Donut. Imagine the idea behind this deal. You hop on the bike and ride down the road. Before long, you come to a checkpoint loaded with as many donuts as you can cram in. Each donut you consume knocks 5 minutes off your ride time. Think of it... If you play your cards right by riding fast and downing donuts like that Japanese kid eats hot dogs, you could actually finish the race before you started.
How will I train? Will I drag the bike out of the shed, air up the tires, put on my little biker shorts, and strap on my helmet? Not me? I'm driving my happy butt down to Shipley's and working over a few hot glazed.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
BIG NEWS!!!
Several posts back, I opened up about a little of the trouble we've had this year. Well, Matthew is happy to announce that there is a baby sister in Mommy's tummy. Actually, we're not sure what it is because it's still too early to tell. Matthew's request for a baby sister has been duly noted, and hopefully we are able to give him what he has asked for.
We're only 10 weeks along, but at least we made it past the psychological point of 9 weeks, 3 days that our 1st miscarriage took place. Of course, there is still quite a ways to go, but the doctor had a pretty good round of tests done a couple of weeks ago, and everything was good so far. There is another appt next week, so keep your fingers crossed (and keep us in your prayers also). We are excited, but there is always a little worry in the background.
The good news (sort of) is that Shelly has been pretty sick for the last several weeks. We take that as a good sign since Shelly was pretty sick for the first several months she was pregnant with Matthew, and not so sick for the 2 pregnancies earlier this year. I guess it's good that she has evening sickness instead of morning sickness, so getting up and starting the day isn't too bad for her. The flip side is that she's pretty grumpy in the evenings and doesn't feel like doing much besides going to sleep. Man, our house is starting to look a little rough inside. Maybe I can con my one of Matthew's grandmothers into coming over one day and doing a little laundry and perhaps cooking a little dinner (Mom, a roast with rice, mushroom gravy, and purple hull peas would be excellent...)
Oh, I almost forgot... In addition to the "baby sister" in Mommy's tummy, Matthew has also reported that he has a Clifford in his tummy. That's Clifford as in Clifford the Big, Red Dog (Google it if you've never heard it). We have no idea where that came from, but it was pretty funny at the time. Kids can come up with some pretty funny stuff.
Several posts back, I opened up about a little of the trouble we've had this year. Well, Matthew is happy to announce that there is a baby sister in Mommy's tummy. Actually, we're not sure what it is because it's still too early to tell. Matthew's request for a baby sister has been duly noted, and hopefully we are able to give him what he has asked for.
We're only 10 weeks along, but at least we made it past the psychological point of 9 weeks, 3 days that our 1st miscarriage took place. Of course, there is still quite a ways to go, but the doctor had a pretty good round of tests done a couple of weeks ago, and everything was good so far. There is another appt next week, so keep your fingers crossed (and keep us in your prayers also). We are excited, but there is always a little worry in the background.
The good news (sort of) is that Shelly has been pretty sick for the last several weeks. We take that as a good sign since Shelly was pretty sick for the first several months she was pregnant with Matthew, and not so sick for the 2 pregnancies earlier this year. I guess it's good that she has evening sickness instead of morning sickness, so getting up and starting the day isn't too bad for her. The flip side is that she's pretty grumpy in the evenings and doesn't feel like doing much besides going to sleep. Man, our house is starting to look a little rough inside. Maybe I can con my one of Matthew's grandmothers into coming over one day and doing a little laundry and perhaps cooking a little dinner (Mom, a roast with rice, mushroom gravy, and purple hull peas would be excellent...)
Oh, I almost forgot... In addition to the "baby sister" in Mommy's tummy, Matthew has also reported that he has a Clifford in his tummy. That's Clifford as in Clifford the Big, Red Dog (Google it if you've never heard it). We have no idea where that came from, but it was pretty funny at the time. Kids can come up with some pretty funny stuff.
I'm BAAACCCKKKKK!!!!
Man, it has been quite a while since I've updated. Hopefully all of you find this post before too long. I think I had a few regular readers before I started being a bum and not posting. Leave a comment so I'll know you folks are still around.
What's been going on with me to keep me from posting? Much the same as always, just pretty busy in the evenings for a couple of weeks there. The problem with blogging is that if you don't keep up with it, it's hard to get back into it. I've not really know where to start because there is so much to talk about. I'll catch everyone up on what's been happening over the next week or so. Some of it involves pictures, so of it just involves a little typing to work the stories out. Sit back, and hold-on, because the next week or so might be a little busy. I promise, there will be a few good stories, and maybe a laugh or 2 along the way.
Next Post... Big news...
Man, it has been quite a while since I've updated. Hopefully all of you find this post before too long. I think I had a few regular readers before I started being a bum and not posting. Leave a comment so I'll know you folks are still around.
What's been going on with me to keep me from posting? Much the same as always, just pretty busy in the evenings for a couple of weeks there. The problem with blogging is that if you don't keep up with it, it's hard to get back into it. I've not really know where to start because there is so much to talk about. I'll catch everyone up on what's been happening over the next week or so. Some of it involves pictures, so of it just involves a little typing to work the stories out. Sit back, and hold-on, because the next week or so might be a little busy. I promise, there will be a few good stories, and maybe a laugh or 2 along the way.
Next Post... Big news...
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Interesting trial...
I've e been reading the highlights each evening about the trial of former Texas Southern University President Priscilla Slade. If you haven't heard the story, Google her name or look at the Houston Chronicle's website.
It seems that this lady got a quite large salary and a monthly stipend on top of that to maintain a home suitable for the president of a University. It seems that she was last year or so she spent a HUGE amount of money on landscaping for her $1 mil + home and the bill was sent to the University. The University then paid it. She claims she meant to pay it and TSU was billed by mistake. Well, an investigation started and the she ended up being fired. She's now charged with felony crimes and could possible spend some time in prison. Probably as long as Andy Fastow of Enron fame.
OK, here is my beef with the deal...
It shouldn't be this way, but minorities, especially black minorities often start out with some level of disadvantage. In America's history, expectations of blacks were low. As many people tend to live up to what is expected of them, generations under-performed when compared to whites. Limitations were imposed on these folks and opportunities were withheld. Skip forward a few years from the civil rights era, and groups like the NAACP, United Negro College Fund, quotas, etc were instituted, and opportunities started becoming available.
The problem at this point is that many of the people of age to take advantage of these new opportunities had parents that were of another generation, and did not push their children to excel and take advantage of these opportunities (It's still a vicious cycle today - as evidenced by some of the people brought out of the shadows and into the spotlight after Hurricane Katrina)
But, some people did take advantage of what was offered, and worked hard to better themselves. Priscilla Slade was one of these people. I don't know this woman's life story, but She graduated with an undergraduate degree from Mississippi State, a masters from Jackson State, and a PhD in Accounting from University of Texas. I've become an Aggie fan as my wife has a masters in Accounting from Texas A&M, but I can tell you, you gotta be pretty smart to get out of Austin with a Masters in any of the business disciplines (as it is VERY hard to even get in). This lady is nice looking, well educated, and likely worked hard to get where she was. If I remember correctly, she was Dean of the business college at TSU before getting picked to be president.
Where am I going with this? I'll tell you. It really burns me to see so many minorities that use their talents (education, athletic ability, etc) to get ahead, only to get greedy. So many of them take advantage of the position they have attained honestly and just completely screw the pooch for nothing but greed. As a member of the majority race (although a shrinking majority), I have to live with the way previous generations treated minorities (usually blacks). We are reminded about it constantly by certain activists (who would be out of a job if they didn't constantly stir the pot).
Yes, whites fail colossally (the guys at Enron as a perfect example). They also fail often. The difference is that the whites seem to have nothing to prove, and nothing more to really gain. The minorities are still fighting to catch up, and it seems that too many of the ones that make it don't seem to worry much about the ones coming after them.
What a shame.
Anyone have any thoughts on the matter?
I've e been reading the highlights each evening about the trial of former Texas Southern University President Priscilla Slade. If you haven't heard the story, Google her name or look at the Houston Chronicle's website.
It seems that this lady got a quite large salary and a monthly stipend on top of that to maintain a home suitable for the president of a University. It seems that she was last year or so she spent a HUGE amount of money on landscaping for her $1 mil + home and the bill was sent to the University. The University then paid it. She claims she meant to pay it and TSU was billed by mistake. Well, an investigation started and the she ended up being fired. She's now charged with felony crimes and could possible spend some time in prison. Probably as long as Andy Fastow of Enron fame.
OK, here is my beef with the deal...
It shouldn't be this way, but minorities, especially black minorities often start out with some level of disadvantage. In America's history, expectations of blacks were low. As many people tend to live up to what is expected of them, generations under-performed when compared to whites. Limitations were imposed on these folks and opportunities were withheld. Skip forward a few years from the civil rights era, and groups like the NAACP, United Negro College Fund, quotas, etc were instituted, and opportunities started becoming available.
The problem at this point is that many of the people of age to take advantage of these new opportunities had parents that were of another generation, and did not push their children to excel and take advantage of these opportunities (It's still a vicious cycle today - as evidenced by some of the people brought out of the shadows and into the spotlight after Hurricane Katrina)
But, some people did take advantage of what was offered, and worked hard to better themselves. Priscilla Slade was one of these people. I don't know this woman's life story, but She graduated with an undergraduate degree from Mississippi State, a masters from Jackson State, and a PhD in Accounting from University of Texas. I've become an Aggie fan as my wife has a masters in Accounting from Texas A&M, but I can tell you, you gotta be pretty smart to get out of Austin with a Masters in any of the business disciplines (as it is VERY hard to even get in). This lady is nice looking, well educated, and likely worked hard to get where she was. If I remember correctly, she was Dean of the business college at TSU before getting picked to be president.
Where am I going with this? I'll tell you. It really burns me to see so many minorities that use their talents (education, athletic ability, etc) to get ahead, only to get greedy. So many of them take advantage of the position they have attained honestly and just completely screw the pooch for nothing but greed. As a member of the majority race (although a shrinking majority), I have to live with the way previous generations treated minorities (usually blacks). We are reminded about it constantly by certain activists (who would be out of a job if they didn't constantly stir the pot).
Yes, whites fail colossally (the guys at Enron as a perfect example). They also fail often. The difference is that the whites seem to have nothing to prove, and nothing more to really gain. The minorities are still fighting to catch up, and it seems that too many of the ones that make it don't seem to worry much about the ones coming after them.
What a shame.
Anyone have any thoughts on the matter?
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Jury Duty...
After rescheduling 2 times, I had no more mulligans left, so I reported this morning for jury duty. The bad thing about jury duty here is at the courthouse is downtown, and I live 25 miles away. I live in one suburb and work in another. That means I don't have to go downtown and fight traffic. This morning I fought that traffic. I hate traffic.
So, an hour commute to report for jury duty at 8am. I was picked as number 37 in a 48 person panel, of which 12 would be picked. Yippie, a civil deal. One guy suing another for injuries from a car accident. What's worse, the plaintiff is a former cop. He is now a hairdresser. Heh, heh. What a change...
The funny thing about juries is how bad everyone tries to get out of them. One guy did the math and figured out that he was close enough to the front to get picked, so he went for broke. The plaintiff was a quite large guy. This potential juror claimed to have an eating disorder and would find it impossible to be impartial to a guy of that size. Pretty original. He didn't get picked, so I guess it worked.
In the end, I was finally released around 1:00 or so. In Houston, that means walking a couple of blocks from the courthouse to the building that the jury pool assembles to pay for parking. The kicker, jury duty pays $6 per day and parking is $5.50. What's even better? Effective tomorrow, the juror pay is $40 per day. I wonder what they will increase parking to?
After rescheduling 2 times, I had no more mulligans left, so I reported this morning for jury duty. The bad thing about jury duty here is at the courthouse is downtown, and I live 25 miles away. I live in one suburb and work in another. That means I don't have to go downtown and fight traffic. This morning I fought that traffic. I hate traffic.
So, an hour commute to report for jury duty at 8am. I was picked as number 37 in a 48 person panel, of which 12 would be picked. Yippie, a civil deal. One guy suing another for injuries from a car accident. What's worse, the plaintiff is a former cop. He is now a hairdresser. Heh, heh. What a change...
The funny thing about juries is how bad everyone tries to get out of them. One guy did the math and figured out that he was close enough to the front to get picked, so he went for broke. The plaintiff was a quite large guy. This potential juror claimed to have an eating disorder and would find it impossible to be impartial to a guy of that size. Pretty original. He didn't get picked, so I guess it worked.
In the end, I was finally released around 1:00 or so. In Houston, that means walking a couple of blocks from the courthouse to the building that the jury pool assembles to pay for parking. The kicker, jury duty pays $6 per day and parking is $5.50. What's even better? Effective tomorrow, the juror pay is $40 per day. I wonder what they will increase parking to?
Friday, August 31, 2007
I hate using public restrooms... (this wasn't me, but Shelly swears I could have written it)
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jump start the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls:
1.Occupied
2.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
3.Poo on seat.
4.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped Trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Pooper. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. S was blathering to Mrs. S about the crappy day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently. -
Once my butt cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to heck had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching. -
Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth. (Mark's note - a few well-placed "courtesy flushes" would solve this problem)
As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jump start the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls:
1.Occupied
2.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
3.Poo on seat.
4.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped Trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Pooper. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. S was blathering to Mrs. S about the crappy day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently. -
Once my butt cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to heck had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching. -
Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth. (Mark's note - a few well-placed "courtesy flushes" would solve this problem)
As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom
More fun with telemarketers...
I think the telemarketers are getting the message that I'm not a fun person to call. It's been a while since one of them has called me. Until last night...
We were in the kitchen and I was cooking one of my specialties for dinner. The phone rang and I answered it without checking caller ID (I usually don't bother to check before answering). The young lady on the other end asked to speak with the "female head of household." Can you see where this is headed? Well, everyone knows, that there can only be one head of household, and in the traditional sense, (in the South anyway) that would be the man. That's me.
I answered "We don't have one of those here." She stammered a little, likely because she heard Shelly talking to Matthew in the background. I said "I'm the head of the household, is there something I can help you with?" She said, "There is no female head of household?"
Ok, she's not getting it...
I said "There is a 'Lady of the House', but no female head of household."
The lights are starting to glow for this girl, and she says "well, can I speak to her?".
My reply? "Nope, it wouldn't do any good since I make all of the decisions."
She hung up on me.
Shelly just shook her head at me. She told me that if she thought I actually felt that way, she would smack me.
I think the telemarketers are getting the message that I'm not a fun person to call. It's been a while since one of them has called me. Until last night...
We were in the kitchen and I was cooking one of my specialties for dinner. The phone rang and I answered it without checking caller ID (I usually don't bother to check before answering). The young lady on the other end asked to speak with the "female head of household." Can you see where this is headed? Well, everyone knows, that there can only be one head of household, and in the traditional sense, (in the South anyway) that would be the man. That's me.
I answered "We don't have one of those here." She stammered a little, likely because she heard Shelly talking to Matthew in the background. I said "I'm the head of the household, is there something I can help you with?" She said, "There is no female head of household?"
Ok, she's not getting it...
I said "There is a 'Lady of the House', but no female head of household."
The lights are starting to glow for this girl, and she says "well, can I speak to her?".
My reply? "Nope, it wouldn't do any good since I make all of the decisions."
She hung up on me.
Shelly just shook her head at me. She told me that if she thought I actually felt that way, she would smack me.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Sold the Tahoe...
After dealing with a few "squirrels", I sold the Tahoe - for a few hundred more than I was going to sell it for to the guy that no-showed me last week. The money is now in the bank, awaiting its next assignment.
Busy weekend...
Shelly has earmarked a small portion of the money to upgrade a few items in our house. Our bathroom has the Hollywood type lighting with the big, clear bulbs above the mirrors. They are sort of cheesy, and the bulbs put off a phenomenal amount of heat. This weekend we are going to look at getting new fixtures to put above the mirrors. Perhaps I'll get some before and after shots to share. We're also going to look at some new faucets to replace the "lowest bid" variety that came with the house. This is where that summer job on a plumbing crew pays off.
I'm definitely not going to complain. If I keep myself busy with this job, I'll be much too busy to faux paint...
On with the weekend. Shelly volunteered us to help some friends get their house ready to put on the market. Apparently I'll be helping paint the exterior of the house. Remember what sort of job I like most (sarcasm here...). Oh, well. It's not hard work, and they are good friends of ours. Not to mention, it will probably really help them out to have a few extra hands getting things together. After working for a few hours, we'll drop Matthew off with Shelly's parents, clean ourselves up, put on Maroon, and head for College Station.
It's Aggie football time again!! This weekend is one of the rare evening games, which should be great. For whatever reason, all of the early season home games last year were early kickoffs. They were miserable, especially since we were pretty much in a heatwave / drought. There is an outside chance that we'll get together with some friends for a tailgate, but if we don't do that, we'll do our normal deal of chicken strips from Raisin' Cane's with massive cups of sweet tea. You can't really go wrong with either one of those options.
Sunday morning we will either get up and cut the grass, or sleep in. Since we can technically do the yard Monday morning, perhaps Sunday will be a sleep-in morning (especially since we'll be getting in late from the ballgame). Late morning, we'll head to Mom and Dad's house for a little Holiday weekend shindig, which means Mom will cook, Shelly will take care of Matthew and help with the niece and nephews, and I'll sit on my butt in a chair with an icy, cold beverage. Perhaps even a little Bourbon in my Diet Coke...
Yep, it's shaping up to be a pretty nice weekend.
After dealing with a few "squirrels", I sold the Tahoe - for a few hundred more than I was going to sell it for to the guy that no-showed me last week. The money is now in the bank, awaiting its next assignment.
Busy weekend...
Shelly has earmarked a small portion of the money to upgrade a few items in our house. Our bathroom has the Hollywood type lighting with the big, clear bulbs above the mirrors. They are sort of cheesy, and the bulbs put off a phenomenal amount of heat. This weekend we are going to look at getting new fixtures to put above the mirrors. Perhaps I'll get some before and after shots to share. We're also going to look at some new faucets to replace the "lowest bid" variety that came with the house. This is where that summer job on a plumbing crew pays off.
I'm definitely not going to complain. If I keep myself busy with this job, I'll be much too busy to faux paint...
On with the weekend. Shelly volunteered us to help some friends get their house ready to put on the market. Apparently I'll be helping paint the exterior of the house. Remember what sort of job I like most (sarcasm here...). Oh, well. It's not hard work, and they are good friends of ours. Not to mention, it will probably really help them out to have a few extra hands getting things together. After working for a few hours, we'll drop Matthew off with Shelly's parents, clean ourselves up, put on Maroon, and head for College Station.
It's Aggie football time again!! This weekend is one of the rare evening games, which should be great. For whatever reason, all of the early season home games last year were early kickoffs. They were miserable, especially since we were pretty much in a heatwave / drought. There is an outside chance that we'll get together with some friends for a tailgate, but if we don't do that, we'll do our normal deal of chicken strips from Raisin' Cane's with massive cups of sweet tea. You can't really go wrong with either one of those options.
Sunday morning we will either get up and cut the grass, or sleep in. Since we can technically do the yard Monday morning, perhaps Sunday will be a sleep-in morning (especially since we'll be getting in late from the ballgame). Late morning, we'll head to Mom and Dad's house for a little Holiday weekend shindig, which means Mom will cook, Shelly will take care of Matthew and help with the niece and nephews, and I'll sit on my butt in a chair with an icy, cold beverage. Perhaps even a little Bourbon in my Diet Coke...
Yep, it's shaping up to be a pretty nice weekend.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Split Stream...
The ladies probably don't have this problem, but it happens for guys from time to time (at least it happens to me every now and then.)
You're standing at the john, taking aim to do your business. As soon as the stream starts, it's going off in some wild direction, not into the bowl. You quickly adjust your aim, only to realize it's not one errant stream, but 2 streams. Aiming the one you first noticed into the bowl makes the other one even farther off target. You usually have no other option at this point than to pull off the impossible... Stop mid-whiz, readjust, and fire again. Then, if you are a gentleman, you use a liberal amount of TP to clean up the mess, being thankful one of those streams wasn't pointing back at you.
Urinals really should be required in ALL men's rooms. That would just about keep this from being a problem since no aiming is really necessary.
Ok, I'll admit this topic isn't that great, but it has to be better than this post about where the blood in your face has been
The ladies probably don't have this problem, but it happens for guys from time to time (at least it happens to me every now and then.)
You're standing at the john, taking aim to do your business. As soon as the stream starts, it's going off in some wild direction, not into the bowl. You quickly adjust your aim, only to realize it's not one errant stream, but 2 streams. Aiming the one you first noticed into the bowl makes the other one even farther off target. You usually have no other option at this point than to pull off the impossible... Stop mid-whiz, readjust, and fire again. Then, if you are a gentleman, you use a liberal amount of TP to clean up the mess, being thankful one of those streams wasn't pointing back at you.
Urinals really should be required in ALL men's rooms. That would just about keep this from being a problem since no aiming is really necessary.
Ok, I'll admit this topic isn't that great, but it has to be better than this post about where the blood in your face has been
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Geez, it's hot...
I woke up this morning around 8 AM. I wanted to go back to sleep, but the strong urge to "make water" told me that I better go ahead and get up. With that task taken care of, I got back in bed with the hopes of sleeping a little longer. Of course, my better senses were telling me that I better get up and cut the grass before it got too hot. I got dressed and headed out to take care of the yard. It was already too hot...
Luckily, Shelly was willing to help, so we knocked it out. Generally, I go out and make a lap or so around everything with the mower. By this time, Shelly is out and ready to help. I do the weed-eating, edging, and blowing off while she takes care of the rest of the mowing. I must say it was miserable outside today. My clothes were completely soaked, and I had to stop every couple of minutes to wipe the sweat from my forehead to keep it out of my eyes. I finished mowing the back yard and Shelly moved on to weeding the flower beds. She did a great job, and our place looks well cared for again.
You know it's hot outside when you can't get cold water out of your faucets. After finishing outside, I was wanting a COLD shower to help bring the body temperature down. I LOVE cold showers after working outside in the heat. No luck on this day. I'd swear that the water coming out of the cold water tap had to have been at least 80 degrees, and likely closer to 85. I guess it's technically cold enough to cool your body temperature, but not enough to be refreshing. Next time, I'll fill the bath tub up and add ice cubes to get the desired temperature.
I woke up this morning around 8 AM. I wanted to go back to sleep, but the strong urge to "make water" told me that I better go ahead and get up. With that task taken care of, I got back in bed with the hopes of sleeping a little longer. Of course, my better senses were telling me that I better get up and cut the grass before it got too hot. I got dressed and headed out to take care of the yard. It was already too hot...
Luckily, Shelly was willing to help, so we knocked it out. Generally, I go out and make a lap or so around everything with the mower. By this time, Shelly is out and ready to help. I do the weed-eating, edging, and blowing off while she takes care of the rest of the mowing. I must say it was miserable outside today. My clothes were completely soaked, and I had to stop every couple of minutes to wipe the sweat from my forehead to keep it out of my eyes. I finished mowing the back yard and Shelly moved on to weeding the flower beds. She did a great job, and our place looks well cared for again.
You know it's hot outside when you can't get cold water out of your faucets. After finishing outside, I was wanting a COLD shower to help bring the body temperature down. I LOVE cold showers after working outside in the heat. No luck on this day. I'd swear that the water coming out of the cold water tap had to have been at least 80 degrees, and likely closer to 85. I guess it's technically cold enough to cool your body temperature, but not enough to be refreshing. Next time, I'll fill the bath tub up and add ice cubes to get the desired temperature.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Sold the truck... NOT
Mid morning this morning, the guy from yesterday called me and said he had gone to the bank and had my $8,000 ready for the truck. I told him good, call me when you have the rest and we can get together and finish the deal if I haven't already sold it to someone else. He tried to negotiate me down a little more, but I told him I was busy, either he would pay my price or he wouldn't. He finally agreed and we arranged a time and place to meet.
Ok, where I have the truck parked (father-in-law's office), is about 40 minutes from my office. Shelly also needed to be there to sign the title, so we worked out our afternoon around picking Matthew up and meeting this guy.
When I am almost to the meeting place and time, the jackass called me and told me he wouldn't be buying it because he had bought another Tahoe. Man, this guy is really trying to piss me off. In Texas, that has to be a hanging offense. Why in the hell would he bother to call me and agree on a price (significantly below my original asking price) if he wasn't interested.
Well, I guess I'll post another ad. This time, these jokers will have to come to me instead of me driving all over creation to meet them.
Mid morning this morning, the guy from yesterday called me and said he had gone to the bank and had my $8,000 ready for the truck. I told him good, call me when you have the rest and we can get together and finish the deal if I haven't already sold it to someone else. He tried to negotiate me down a little more, but I told him I was busy, either he would pay my price or he wouldn't. He finally agreed and we arranged a time and place to meet.
Ok, where I have the truck parked (father-in-law's office), is about 40 minutes from my office. Shelly also needed to be there to sign the title, so we worked out our afternoon around picking Matthew up and meeting this guy.
When I am almost to the meeting place and time, the jackass called me and told me he wouldn't be buying it because he had bought another Tahoe. Man, this guy is really trying to piss me off. In Texas, that has to be a hanging offense. Why in the hell would he bother to call me and agree on a price (significantly below my original asking price) if he wasn't interested.
Well, I guess I'll post another ad. This time, these jokers will have to come to me instead of me driving all over creation to meet them.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Selling the truck...
Man, selling a vehicle is an annoying process. I put an add on Craigslist to see how free classified ads work before shelling out the money for an ad on cars.com or the local autotrader magazine. I've had a couple of e-mails and showed the truck to one guy this afternoon.
After a few minutes of answering the usual used car type questions, he said he would like to see it. He didn't want to waste any ones time, so he wanted to know the absolute rock bottom price I would take to sell the truck. I told him, and we agreed to meet.
Well, I drive the 20 miles to town to meet him where I have the truck parked at my father-in-law's office. He drives it and likes it, then proceeds to offer me 30% below asking price. Ok, so you get the idea, it's a 2001 Tahoe with all of the options on it. I'm asking $10k, which is just below what all of the web pricing guides call for on a private party sale. I understand that the market is a little slow for this type of vehicle, so I told him what I would be willing to accept, nothing less.
Why in the hell would he even have me meet him in town and waste my time (which he said he didn't want to do), if he was then going to offer me $7,000? When I held firm and told him I would take nothing less than what I had offered, he poor-mouthed about the bad gas mileage and the price of gas... WHAT? I told him that if he couldn't afford to feed the beast, he needed to look at another type of vehicle. Then he told me all he had was $7,700, so that's the most he could pay. Man, what a jackass. Just because he only has $7,700 doesn't mean that's all my truck is worth.
I think I'll make that point clear before I meet anyone else.
Another interesting one. Someone was looking at it earlier today and asked my father-in law if the price was negotiable. He told them he thought it was to a certain extent, then they asked him if I would finance it. HELLO... How many private party sales actually involve owner financing? The last time we sold a car it was much the same. Asking $8k, people calling with $4,500 and can pay X per week and want me to finance. One person was really pushy, so I made an offer. Pay me the $4,500, and I'll take the signs off the car and keep it in my garage. Pay me the money each week, and when you make the last payment, I'll give you the keys and the title. Funny how they didn't like that idea.
Man, selling a vehicle is an annoying process. I put an add on Craigslist to see how free classified ads work before shelling out the money for an ad on cars.com or the local autotrader magazine. I've had a couple of e-mails and showed the truck to one guy this afternoon.
After a few minutes of answering the usual used car type questions, he said he would like to see it. He didn't want to waste any ones time, so he wanted to know the absolute rock bottom price I would take to sell the truck. I told him, and we agreed to meet.
Well, I drive the 20 miles to town to meet him where I have the truck parked at my father-in-law's office. He drives it and likes it, then proceeds to offer me 30% below asking price. Ok, so you get the idea, it's a 2001 Tahoe with all of the options on it. I'm asking $10k, which is just below what all of the web pricing guides call for on a private party sale. I understand that the market is a little slow for this type of vehicle, so I told him what I would be willing to accept, nothing less.
Why in the hell would he even have me meet him in town and waste my time (which he said he didn't want to do), if he was then going to offer me $7,000? When I held firm and told him I would take nothing less than what I had offered, he poor-mouthed about the bad gas mileage and the price of gas... WHAT? I told him that if he couldn't afford to feed the beast, he needed to look at another type of vehicle. Then he told me all he had was $7,700, so that's the most he could pay. Man, what a jackass. Just because he only has $7,700 doesn't mean that's all my truck is worth.
I think I'll make that point clear before I meet anyone else.
Another interesting one. Someone was looking at it earlier today and asked my father-in law if the price was negotiable. He told them he thought it was to a certain extent, then they asked him if I would finance it. HELLO... How many private party sales actually involve owner financing? The last time we sold a car it was much the same. Asking $8k, people calling with $4,500 and can pay X per week and want me to finance. One person was really pushy, so I made an offer. Pay me the $4,500, and I'll take the signs off the car and keep it in my garage. Pay me the money each week, and when you make the last payment, I'll give you the keys and the title. Funny how they didn't like that idea.
Monday, August 20, 2007
A Man in Uniform...
Our little boy is growing up. He started Pre-K 3 today. Of course, that's just another name for 3 yr old daycare. Matthew attends the daycare at our church. This year, they have decided to get accredited, which basically means they are charging more. Part of the deal was that they are merging the daycare and the private school. Net result, we pay more. And Matthew now has to wear uniforms.
Ok, I'll be the first to say that I support the idea for uniforms for school kids. To me, a 3 yr old is not a school kid. We have hand-me downs out the wazoo from my sisters 2 boys, but instead of getting wear out of perfectly good free clothes, we're buying uniforms.
Eagle eyes looking at the picture will notice he is holding a pop-tart. Matthew is a creature of habit. The first thing he wants when we get downstairs in the morning is a pop-tart. God help us if we don't have any left. He normally eats pancakes, yogurt, or something better once he gets to school, but he loves that pop-tart in the morning. Sounds like me. A pop-tart and a Diet Coke is the breakfast of champions. Oh, and mine are the low-fat brown sugar & cinnamon pop-tarts
Our little boy is growing up. He started Pre-K 3 today. Of course, that's just another name for 3 yr old daycare. Matthew attends the daycare at our church. This year, they have decided to get accredited, which basically means they are charging more. Part of the deal was that they are merging the daycare and the private school. Net result, we pay more. And Matthew now has to wear uniforms.
Ok, I'll be the first to say that I support the idea for uniforms for school kids. To me, a 3 yr old is not a school kid. We have hand-me downs out the wazoo from my sisters 2 boys, but instead of getting wear out of perfectly good free clothes, we're buying uniforms.
Eagle eyes looking at the picture will notice he is holding a pop-tart. Matthew is a creature of habit. The first thing he wants when we get downstairs in the morning is a pop-tart. God help us if we don't have any left. He normally eats pancakes, yogurt, or something better once he gets to school, but he loves that pop-tart in the morning. Sounds like me. A pop-tart and a Diet Coke is the breakfast of champions. Oh, and mine are the low-fat brown sugar & cinnamon pop-tarts
Thursday, August 16, 2007
One of those days...
Ever have one of those days that you think you should have just stayed in bed? Today was one of those days for me... Here are the events:
Car dealership...
One of the negotiated points of the car purchase last week was a 3rd key and key fob. One of the deals with the new Altima is the intelligent key. It's pretty slick, but you need 2 working key fobs to be able to program a new one. I suppose you could get one done, but it is likely more expensive to get it done. They had not programmed the 3rd key when I picked the car up, so the plan was for me to go back and get it done at another time. The salesman said it would take about 30 minutes, and the service dept opened at 7:30 am. The plan was to go in around 7:30 this morning, let them do their thing, and make it to work around 8:30 or so. Easy enough, right?
Well, that's not the way things worked today. I got there around 7:40, and had to wait a few minutes to get someone to help me. At that point, they told me the tech's don't arrive until 8:00, and by the time they got things set up, they wouldn't be through until 9:30. Obviously, that's not going to work, and not what the salesman told me. What a hassle that I will end up needing to drop it off and leave it with them for a day to get it done.
Lazy Cop...
I went to a new BBQ place for lunch today. When the others in the office found out where I was going, they asked me to get take-out for everyone and bring it back to eat. It was raining when I got there, and there were cop cars (Constable) parked in the to go parking right by the building. I had to park around back and get a little wet. I go inside, and it looks like a friggin cop convention in there. Lazy mofo's probably eating free, and taking up the to-go parking.
Dinner...
Matthew is with Mom and Dad tonight, so we decided to have a date night. We planned to eat at On the Border then watch "No Reservations". Well, who would think that they would have a 20 minute wait for dinner at this place on a Thursday night. A rainy Thursday night. Not a problem, we headed to McAlister's Deli for a quick sandwich before the movie. Good plan? Not today. The time on the receipt from when we ordered was 7:07PM. Food arrival? 7:39PM. Ok if they were busy, but there were only 6 or 7 people ahead of us when we arrived. And my Pastrami on toasted sourdough was COLD. I take it up to the counter and the lady said "Is it cold?" Yes, it took 32 minutes to make me a sandwich, and it's cold. Ok, I'm beyond mad. I was EXTREMELY nice to these people. The lady said she would get it heated up for me. 8 minutes later, I went back up to the counter. Another employee asked through the little window where the re-heated sandwich was. The chick in the back looks around and hands it back through. A little warmer, but obviously sitting back on the counter a few minutes since it was finished heating. Still not hot. The girl at the counter offered to have them make me another one. Yeah, right. Almost 40 minutes into a visit, and a movie starting in less than 5 minutes, I don't have time for that.
I did take a comment card.
And a Movie...
We go across the parking lot and get into the theatre for the movie. We get into the theatre, and the A/C is out. Crap. Luckily, it cooled off here today with the Tropical Storm remnants we had. It was a little warm, but not completely unbearable.
OK, I have to admit, there were a few high points....
The BBQ place at lunch took 5-10 minutes to get the order together. The manager deemed that to be unacceptable, so the lunch was free. Not bad. I like that place already. Oh, and the food was good. 3 cheers for Spring Creek BBQ.
And the warm movie theatre? We were met by the manager as we left the theatre. He had free passes we can use the next time out. I like that.
Up for tomorrow? I'm dropping the car off to get the windows tinted. Hopefully nothing goes wrong with that.
Ever have one of those days that you think you should have just stayed in bed? Today was one of those days for me... Here are the events:
Car dealership...
One of the negotiated points of the car purchase last week was a 3rd key and key fob. One of the deals with the new Altima is the intelligent key. It's pretty slick, but you need 2 working key fobs to be able to program a new one. I suppose you could get one done, but it is likely more expensive to get it done. They had not programmed the 3rd key when I picked the car up, so the plan was for me to go back and get it done at another time. The salesman said it would take about 30 minutes, and the service dept opened at 7:30 am. The plan was to go in around 7:30 this morning, let them do their thing, and make it to work around 8:30 or so. Easy enough, right?
Well, that's not the way things worked today. I got there around 7:40, and had to wait a few minutes to get someone to help me. At that point, they told me the tech's don't arrive until 8:00, and by the time they got things set up, they wouldn't be through until 9:30. Obviously, that's not going to work, and not what the salesman told me. What a hassle that I will end up needing to drop it off and leave it with them for a day to get it done.
Lazy Cop...
I went to a new BBQ place for lunch today. When the others in the office found out where I was going, they asked me to get take-out for everyone and bring it back to eat. It was raining when I got there, and there were cop cars (Constable) parked in the to go parking right by the building. I had to park around back and get a little wet. I go inside, and it looks like a friggin cop convention in there. Lazy mofo's probably eating free, and taking up the to-go parking.
Dinner...
Matthew is with Mom and Dad tonight, so we decided to have a date night. We planned to eat at On the Border then watch "No Reservations". Well, who would think that they would have a 20 minute wait for dinner at this place on a Thursday night. A rainy Thursday night. Not a problem, we headed to McAlister's Deli for a quick sandwich before the movie. Good plan? Not today. The time on the receipt from when we ordered was 7:07PM. Food arrival? 7:39PM. Ok if they were busy, but there were only 6 or 7 people ahead of us when we arrived. And my Pastrami on toasted sourdough was COLD. I take it up to the counter and the lady said "Is it cold?" Yes, it took 32 minutes to make me a sandwich, and it's cold. Ok, I'm beyond mad. I was EXTREMELY nice to these people. The lady said she would get it heated up for me. 8 minutes later, I went back up to the counter. Another employee asked through the little window where the re-heated sandwich was. The chick in the back looks around and hands it back through. A little warmer, but obviously sitting back on the counter a few minutes since it was finished heating. Still not hot. The girl at the counter offered to have them make me another one. Yeah, right. Almost 40 minutes into a visit, and a movie starting in less than 5 minutes, I don't have time for that.
I did take a comment card.
And a Movie...
We go across the parking lot and get into the theatre for the movie. We get into the theatre, and the A/C is out. Crap. Luckily, it cooled off here today with the Tropical Storm remnants we had. It was a little warm, but not completely unbearable.
OK, I have to admit, there were a few high points....
The BBQ place at lunch took 5-10 minutes to get the order together. The manager deemed that to be unacceptable, so the lunch was free. Not bad. I like that place already. Oh, and the food was good. 3 cheers for Spring Creek BBQ.
And the warm movie theatre? We were met by the manager as we left the theatre. He had free passes we can use the next time out. I like that.
Up for tomorrow? I'm dropping the car off to get the windows tinted. Hopefully nothing goes wrong with that.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Egged...
We pretty much stayed in the house all day today. It was 100 degrees outside, and we had housework to do anyway, so no real reason to go out until church this afternoon. Ok, Shelly and I are usually running a few minutes late anytime we go somewhere. For church this afternoon, we were actually ready to leave on time.
Matthew and I were going out to get in the car, when I saw it. Something was on my car. My NEW car. My still on the first tank of gas and paper license plates car. Some bastard had EGGED my car. Well, let's just say that my whole mood changed. My mood and thoughts were no longer in the correct frame of mind to go to church. We got in the car, and no amount of arctic air from the A/C could cool my burning anger at the bastards that had egged my car. Thankfully 2 passes through the "good" car wash and a trip to the coin-op power wash place got all of the egg off the car.
My mood was better, and we went to church, late as usual. When we got home this evening, I cleaned the few remaining spots off that had not come off before. I also cleaned up the little bit of egg that had splashed onto the Tahoe.
Man, just thinking about it now still pisses me off. I know it's just a car and stuff happens, but GEEZ, enough happens without some jackass throwing eggs at my car.
We pretty much stayed in the house all day today. It was 100 degrees outside, and we had housework to do anyway, so no real reason to go out until church this afternoon. Ok, Shelly and I are usually running a few minutes late anytime we go somewhere. For church this afternoon, we were actually ready to leave on time.
Matthew and I were going out to get in the car, when I saw it. Something was on my car. My NEW car. My still on the first tank of gas and paper license plates car. Some bastard had EGGED my car. Well, let's just say that my whole mood changed. My mood and thoughts were no longer in the correct frame of mind to go to church. We got in the car, and no amount of arctic air from the A/C could cool my burning anger at the bastards that had egged my car. Thankfully 2 passes through the "good" car wash and a trip to the coin-op power wash place got all of the egg off the car.
My mood was better, and we went to church, late as usual. When we got home this evening, I cleaned the few remaining spots off that had not come off before. I also cleaned up the little bit of egg that had splashed onto the Tahoe.
Man, just thinking about it now still pisses me off. I know it's just a car and stuff happens, but GEEZ, enough happens without some jackass throwing eggs at my car.
Birthday Party...
We had Matthew's 3rd birthday party on Saturday. His birthday was actually 3 weeks ago, but life happens and it was postponed to this weekend. Having a party for 19 kids and about double that number of adults is not an easy accomplishment, but somehow we pulled it off (with the help of a few relatives and some fancy coordination between us.)
We took several pictures, unfortunately, I seemed to have messed up the setting on the digital camera (they were set to "night", and they all came out a little fuzzy. Here are pics of his 2 cakes. You May recognize Larry the Cucumber and Bob the Tomato on the first cake. For those of you not completely immersed with the Veggie Tales, the Pirate Ship represents "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything". They appear from time to time, and have their own full-length movie coming out soon (Google them for more info if you want it). They are some of Matthew's favorite characters, and when he saw the pirate ship in the bakery display case at Kroger a few weeks ago, we knew we had to get one made for his birthday party. He loved it.
Of course, we were all wiped out after that. Thankfully, Matthew slept until 9am this morning.
Perhaps the party next year will be somewhere that does all of the setting up, coordinating, etc for you...
Lawn Service...
Several years ago, Shelly and I had a lawn service. Actually, she had this house before we were married, so SHE had a lawn service. When we got married and I moved in, I kept my mouth shut, and I didn't have to cut the grass for a couple more years. Those were the days...
When Matthew was going to arrive, it was decided that we would cut the lawn service and I would start cutting the grass. Ok, this wasn't a big deal to me. Ever since 7th grade or so, I had always had a few yards to cut. Heck, even after I got my first real job, I still cut the grass for a neighbor across the street. I did that one because it was a 30 minute job and they weren't picky. I cut it when I cut mine and made a quick $25. Not bad if I already had the mower out anyway. The deal I made with Shelly is that if I was going to cut the grass, I wanted to buy good equipment. I bought a Honda mulching mower and a Stihl Edger. I already had an off-brand weed-eater and blower, and they were serviceable. The major requirements were self-propelled mower and ell pieces were to be gas powered. I have extension cords, but I'm sure as hell not going to have to drag them all over the yard. I was in business.
I must say that I am sort of particular about my grass. You have to be careful in a few places to make sure you don't scalp it. Well, with the unexpected trip to a funeral last week, it became obvious that I was not going to be able to get the yard done myself. So, I called the lawn service we used to use. It was a Thursday morning, and the guy told me not a problem, he was have one of his crews do it either Friday or Saturday.
Of course, as my luck would have it, we arrive back home Sunday night, completely worn out, and the grass was taller than ever. Great. I called the guy Monday, and he told me they were a day behind, but it would be done. I called the guy Tuesday, and he was on the other line, he promised he would track down the guy and call me right back. Never heard from him. Wednesday, I didn't think to call until I got home and the yard still had not been done. I called at 5:30 and got the recorder. I left a message that I wanted to hear from him Thursday morning with either a definite answer of when they would cut my grass or to tell me they couldn't get to it. At 3:30, I had not heard from him, so I called him . He said he was on the phone with another customer, but he gave me the number of the guy that was supposed to be coming to cut it. He said he would call the guy to let him know who I was and that I was going to call him. I was to wait 15 minutes and call him...
Enough of that crap. I called one of his competitors and they were cutting it at 7:15 the next morning.
With all of the birthday party stuff we had this last weekend, I sure was glad I didn't have to do it myself. Of course, the guys that cut it were the typical lawn service. Cut it quickly and move onto the next one. The missed a couple of patches, and it is scalped in at least 2 places. I'll be back to doing it myself next weekend.
Several years ago, Shelly and I had a lawn service. Actually, she had this house before we were married, so SHE had a lawn service. When we got married and I moved in, I kept my mouth shut, and I didn't have to cut the grass for a couple more years. Those were the days...
When Matthew was going to arrive, it was decided that we would cut the lawn service and I would start cutting the grass. Ok, this wasn't a big deal to me. Ever since 7th grade or so, I had always had a few yards to cut. Heck, even after I got my first real job, I still cut the grass for a neighbor across the street. I did that one because it was a 30 minute job and they weren't picky. I cut it when I cut mine and made a quick $25. Not bad if I already had the mower out anyway. The deal I made with Shelly is that if I was going to cut the grass, I wanted to buy good equipment. I bought a Honda mulching mower and a Stihl Edger. I already had an off-brand weed-eater and blower, and they were serviceable. The major requirements were self-propelled mower and ell pieces were to be gas powered. I have extension cords, but I'm sure as hell not going to have to drag them all over the yard. I was in business.
I must say that I am sort of particular about my grass. You have to be careful in a few places to make sure you don't scalp it. Well, with the unexpected trip to a funeral last week, it became obvious that I was not going to be able to get the yard done myself. So, I called the lawn service we used to use. It was a Thursday morning, and the guy told me not a problem, he was have one of his crews do it either Friday or Saturday.
Of course, as my luck would have it, we arrive back home Sunday night, completely worn out, and the grass was taller than ever. Great. I called the guy Monday, and he told me they were a day behind, but it would be done. I called the guy Tuesday, and he was on the other line, he promised he would track down the guy and call me right back. Never heard from him. Wednesday, I didn't think to call until I got home and the yard still had not been done. I called at 5:30 and got the recorder. I left a message that I wanted to hear from him Thursday morning with either a definite answer of when they would cut my grass or to tell me they couldn't get to it. At 3:30, I had not heard from him, so I called him . He said he was on the phone with another customer, but he gave me the number of the guy that was supposed to be coming to cut it. He said he would call the guy to let him know who I was and that I was going to call him. I was to wait 15 minutes and call him...
Enough of that crap. I called one of his competitors and they were cutting it at 7:15 the next morning.
With all of the birthday party stuff we had this last weekend, I sure was glad I didn't have to do it myself. Of course, the guys that cut it were the typical lawn service. Cut it quickly and move onto the next one. The missed a couple of patches, and it is scalped in at least 2 places. I'll be back to doing it myself next weekend.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Selling the Tahoe...
I'm sitting here thinking about cleaning the Tahoe a little and listing it for sale. You know, I really like my Tahoe. I'm sort of having some reservations about selling it. Of course, I need to sell it since we are not made of money and it makes no sense to keep a vehicle that is not needed. Shelly actually bought it before we got married, but I negotiated the deal for her and basically ordered it the way I wanted it (bigger V-8, towing package, locking rear diff, etc, etc). She didn't care what else it had as long as it had leather seats and a sunroof.
I don't remember the exact date, but it was in August of 2000 when we picked it up. We ordered it just as they were starting to take orders for 2001 models in either June or July of that year. The day we picked it up was also the day we picked out the diamond and setting for Shelly's engagement ring. Lots of miles and memories in that truck. Sure, we have the Expedition, but it has pretty much always been hers (she took it away from me about a week after I bought it).
Anyone else ever feel a little remorse over selling a vehicle they have had since it was new?
Of course, with the amount of miles we tend to travel and the price of gasoline, I'll get over it pretty quickly.
I'm sitting here thinking about cleaning the Tahoe a little and listing it for sale. You know, I really like my Tahoe. I'm sort of having some reservations about selling it. Of course, I need to sell it since we are not made of money and it makes no sense to keep a vehicle that is not needed. Shelly actually bought it before we got married, but I negotiated the deal for her and basically ordered it the way I wanted it (bigger V-8, towing package, locking rear diff, etc, etc). She didn't care what else it had as long as it had leather seats and a sunroof.
I don't remember the exact date, but it was in August of 2000 when we picked it up. We ordered it just as they were starting to take orders for 2001 models in either June or July of that year. The day we picked it up was also the day we picked out the diamond and setting for Shelly's engagement ring. Lots of miles and memories in that truck. Sure, we have the Expedition, but it has pretty much always been hers (she took it away from me about a week after I bought it).
Anyone else ever feel a little remorse over selling a vehicle they have had since it was new?
Of course, with the amount of miles we tend to travel and the price of gasoline, I'll get over it pretty quickly.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
New Car...
I picked up the newest addition to our family tonight. It's a brand spankin' new Nissan Altima. (only 7 miles on the clock). It's Silver with Charcoal interior. It's just the standard model without the fancy options, but the list of standard equipment is quite lengthy.
I'd say that the coolest feature is the intelligent key. It's basically just a key fob. You leave it in your pocket (or purse). No need to take it out or push the buttons on it. It has a range of about 30 inches, and emits a signal to the car. You walk up to the car and push a little button on the door handle to unlock the doors and hop in. To start the car, just step on the the brake and push the button that is in place of where the key would go. Want the "key" in the "accessory" position to listen to the radio instead of starting the engine, simply push the button without stepping on the brake. Shelly is having a hard time with the no key deal, but I like it.
Getting used to the lower seating position vs the trucks we're used to is going to be the biggest adjustment.
I'll give a more thorough review in a couple of weeks.
Anyone want to buy my Tahoe? It has quite a few miles on it, but it is in excellent shape
I picked up the newest addition to our family tonight. It's a brand spankin' new Nissan Altima. (only 7 miles on the clock). It's Silver with Charcoal interior. It's just the standard model without the fancy options, but the list of standard equipment is quite lengthy.
I'd say that the coolest feature is the intelligent key. It's basically just a key fob. You leave it in your pocket (or purse). No need to take it out or push the buttons on it. It has a range of about 30 inches, and emits a signal to the car. You walk up to the car and push a little button on the door handle to unlock the doors and hop in. To start the car, just step on the the brake and push the button that is in place of where the key would go. Want the "key" in the "accessory" position to listen to the radio instead of starting the engine, simply push the button without stepping on the brake. Shelly is having a hard time with the no key deal, but I like it.
Getting used to the lower seating position vs the trucks we're used to is going to be the biggest adjustment.
I'll give a more thorough review in a couple of weeks.
Anyone want to buy my Tahoe? It has quite a few miles on it, but it is in excellent shape
Apparently Not Impressive...
By now, you all know the story behind the word "Impressive". You also know that my mom doesn't think it's quite as amusing as I do. Add my sister to the list of the unimpressed. Over the weekend, we joked a little about it and Matthew used the word a couple of times. Apparently my 5 yr old David) and 8 yr old (Nicholas) nephews thought it was pretty funny also.
Well, Staci told David that if she heard it again, she would wash his mouth out with soap. Needless to say, within about a minute, that poor kid was blowing bubbles. Apparently once they got home, Nicholas let one go, and gave Staci that "What are you gonna do about it" look, just before saying "Impressive". She didn't agree, and he got a round with the wooden spoon. Looks like Uncle Mark is quite a bad influence on the nephews. Sorry, guys. My bad.
Now for a funny Matthew story...
It was a little before 10PM Sunday night, and we were about 30 minutes from home. We had eaten a late dinner in Livingston (Mexican), and I was starting to feel the effects. Of course, being the gentleman I am, I leaned over and played a tune. Shelly protested (of course). When the bouquet hit, she was protesting even more and told me to roll down my window. That's when we heard the voice from the backseat "Impressive". I started laughing, and Shelly told him it was NOT impressive, it was terrible. Of course, my little man insisted that it was indeed impressive. After a little back and forth with Matthew and I against Shelly, Matthew said a new word from the backseat "Outnumbered, Mommy." Heh, heh, heh, that's my boy.
Shelly is praying that our next child is a little girl.
By now, you all know the story behind the word "Impressive". You also know that my mom doesn't think it's quite as amusing as I do. Add my sister to the list of the unimpressed. Over the weekend, we joked a little about it and Matthew used the word a couple of times. Apparently my 5 yr old David) and 8 yr old (Nicholas) nephews thought it was pretty funny also.
Well, Staci told David that if she heard it again, she would wash his mouth out with soap. Needless to say, within about a minute, that poor kid was blowing bubbles. Apparently once they got home, Nicholas let one go, and gave Staci that "What are you gonna do about it" look, just before saying "Impressive". She didn't agree, and he got a round with the wooden spoon. Looks like Uncle Mark is quite a bad influence on the nephews. Sorry, guys. My bad.
Now for a funny Matthew story...
It was a little before 10PM Sunday night, and we were about 30 minutes from home. We had eaten a late dinner in Livingston (Mexican), and I was starting to feel the effects. Of course, being the gentleman I am, I leaned over and played a tune. Shelly protested (of course). When the bouquet hit, she was protesting even more and told me to roll down my window. That's when we heard the voice from the backseat "Impressive". I started laughing, and Shelly told him it was NOT impressive, it was terrible. Of course, my little man insisted that it was indeed impressive. After a little back and forth with Matthew and I against Shelly, Matthew said a new word from the backseat "Outnumbered, Mommy." Heh, heh, heh, that's my boy.
Shelly is praying that our next child is a little girl.
What a week...
Wow, what a week this has been. Last weekend, we made the trip back to Kirbyville. Man, what a difference a week makes. Saturday, it was a little after 11am, and we were following the hearse down a 2 lane country road. It was about the exact time we were driving down that same road just 7 days earlier on the way to the family reunion to see Mamaw, this time, we were on our way to the cemetery to bury her.
I will say that it was good to see the extended family again. We're all so spread out that we don't visit often. The weekend was surprisingly easy. Yes, there was some sadness, but there was also some celebration for a life well lived. We also started the process of dealing with what was left behind. I'll say that my grandmother was a good cook. Meals were typically large and usually included fresh peas. One thing she left behind was a freezer full of fresh peas. I just happen to have a sizable ice chest in the truck... I loaded it up (as did all of the cousins). There is still quite a bit left there for another trip also. Now to figure out how to properly cook them...
Wow, what a week this has been. Last weekend, we made the trip back to Kirbyville. Man, what a difference a week makes. Saturday, it was a little after 11am, and we were following the hearse down a 2 lane country road. It was about the exact time we were driving down that same road just 7 days earlier on the way to the family reunion to see Mamaw, this time, we were on our way to the cemetery to bury her.
I will say that it was good to see the extended family again. We're all so spread out that we don't visit often. The weekend was surprisingly easy. Yes, there was some sadness, but there was also some celebration for a life well lived. We also started the process of dealing with what was left behind. I'll say that my grandmother was a good cook. Meals were typically large and usually included fresh peas. One thing she left behind was a freezer full of fresh peas. I just happen to have a sizable ice chest in the truck... I loaded it up (as did all of the cousins). There is still quite a bit left there for another trip also. Now to figure out how to properly cook them...
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Speechless...
Last weekend we went to Kirbyville (Deep East Texas) and had a good time visiting with family. It was a decision made sort of on the spur of the moment. We haven't seen my grandmother on my dad's side of the family much lately. My grandfather had Alzheimer's and his physical condition declined for many years, which pretty much kept her close to home. He's been gone for almost 2 years now, but being almost 80, she doesn't travel much these days. With things being busy in our own lives, visits were few and far between.
Well, hindsight says the trip was worth it. She seemed happy to see us and thrilled to see Matthew. I think he was glad to see her too She gave him his birthday card, and he excitedly tore the envelope open and pointed to the characters on the card. That trip turns out to have been our last visit with Mamaw. My Aunt had been trying to call her today and was worried when there was no answer. She asked someone to go check on her and the report was that she was no longer with us. Whatever happened, I hope she went peacefully.
Shelly just keeps saying how surreal it is that we were just with her. In thinking about it, I guess I've been lucky. My Grandmother on my mothers side (Nana) died back in 2000. As luck would have it, I visited her in Kirbyville the week before she died.
ramblings from a wandering mind...
ok, this is just where I'm putting some things down that are floating around in my mind. I'm not sure if they are appropriate thoughts or not, but they are my thoughts regardless... (think of it as my sort of therapy for dealing with this)
It's always sad when someone dies after a very long, lingering illness. My Grandfather (Papaw) dies in December 2005 after a very long fight with Alzheimer's. That disease has to be the most cruel disease around. It's difficult on the person that has it for the first couple of stages, but after a point, they don't know anything anymore. Papaw didn't know any of us for the last couple of years, and seemed annoyed by us whenever we visited. I think he fell into the routine of every day life and was comfortable with it. When all of us visited, it was a disruption to him, and I'm sure very confusing to have a bunch of complete strangers (family members) filling up his house. I almost feel ashamed to admit it, but I didn't like to visit for the last several years because I was uncomfortable with it. It was hard to see him like that.
It's almost like people that linger on like that have outlived themselves, so to speak. Their body is going, but they (the person that they have been) is no longer present in the body. They are just a shell of themselves.
When I go, I hope it is in a similar fashion to how Mamaw went. Sure, she had her physical difficulties. She was almost 80. For the last few months, she had some aches and pains, but she still got around quite well. She had her wits about her. She was able to visit with all of us, and knew who we were. Yes, that's it. I want to leave this world physically before I've left mentally.
So, now the hard part. Grieving is not always an easy emotion for me. Maybe that's a guy thing. In the next day or 2, we'll load up and hit the road again. We'll all sort of go through that awkwardness together, getting together with relatives, not knowing quite what to say. Heck, I don't even know what I'm going to say to my dad when I talk to him tomorrow. Maybe I won't say anything. I just don't know. Even after all of this typing, I'm still sort of speechless...
Last weekend we went to Kirbyville (Deep East Texas) and had a good time visiting with family. It was a decision made sort of on the spur of the moment. We haven't seen my grandmother on my dad's side of the family much lately. My grandfather had Alzheimer's and his physical condition declined for many years, which pretty much kept her close to home. He's been gone for almost 2 years now, but being almost 80, she doesn't travel much these days. With things being busy in our own lives, visits were few and far between.
Well, hindsight says the trip was worth it. She seemed happy to see us and thrilled to see Matthew. I think he was glad to see her too She gave him his birthday card, and he excitedly tore the envelope open and pointed to the characters on the card. That trip turns out to have been our last visit with Mamaw. My Aunt had been trying to call her today and was worried when there was no answer. She asked someone to go check on her and the report was that she was no longer with us. Whatever happened, I hope she went peacefully.
Shelly just keeps saying how surreal it is that we were just with her. In thinking about it, I guess I've been lucky. My Grandmother on my mothers side (Nana) died back in 2000. As luck would have it, I visited her in Kirbyville the week before she died.
ramblings from a wandering mind...
ok, this is just where I'm putting some things down that are floating around in my mind. I'm not sure if they are appropriate thoughts or not, but they are my thoughts regardless... (think of it as my sort of therapy for dealing with this)
It's always sad when someone dies after a very long, lingering illness. My Grandfather (Papaw) dies in December 2005 after a very long fight with Alzheimer's. That disease has to be the most cruel disease around. It's difficult on the person that has it for the first couple of stages, but after a point, they don't know anything anymore. Papaw didn't know any of us for the last couple of years, and seemed annoyed by us whenever we visited. I think he fell into the routine of every day life and was comfortable with it. When all of us visited, it was a disruption to him, and I'm sure very confusing to have a bunch of complete strangers (family members) filling up his house. I almost feel ashamed to admit it, but I didn't like to visit for the last several years because I was uncomfortable with it. It was hard to see him like that.
It's almost like people that linger on like that have outlived themselves, so to speak. Their body is going, but they (the person that they have been) is no longer present in the body. They are just a shell of themselves.
When I go, I hope it is in a similar fashion to how Mamaw went. Sure, she had her physical difficulties. She was almost 80. For the last few months, she had some aches and pains, but she still got around quite well. She had her wits about her. She was able to visit with all of us, and knew who we were. Yes, that's it. I want to leave this world physically before I've left mentally.
So, now the hard part. Grieving is not always an easy emotion for me. Maybe that's a guy thing. In the next day or 2, we'll load up and hit the road again. We'll all sort of go through that awkwardness together, getting together with relatives, not knowing quite what to say. Heck, I don't even know what I'm going to say to my dad when I talk to him tomorrow. Maybe I won't say anything. I just don't know. Even after all of this typing, I'm still sort of speechless...
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
This has to be "Against the Rules"... (a rant)
I was at the grocery store last night picking up a few items. While browsing through the produce section, there was a big table thing full of fresh corn on the cob, still in the husks. They were priced by the pound, not by the ear. Standing at this display, was an woman and her daughter, shucking the corn and placing the cleaned ears in the plastic bags.
Ok, there must be something that's just not right about this. I mean, you don't go in and peel the bananas or oranges before buying them. You don't shell the pecans that are sold in the shell before buying them. Why would anyone think it was ok to shuck the corn before buying it?
To top it all off, there was a trash can right next to the display. Where did they put all of the husks and silk? On the floor between the display and the trash can. It's amazing the gall some people seem to have.
It could be pointed out that these folks were not Caucasian. They were of a nationality that is commonly deemed to be brighter and perhaps harder working than the average American. I guess smarts and class are not always mutually inclusive.
I was at the grocery store last night picking up a few items. While browsing through the produce section, there was a big table thing full of fresh corn on the cob, still in the husks. They were priced by the pound, not by the ear. Standing at this display, was an woman and her daughter, shucking the corn and placing the cleaned ears in the plastic bags.
Ok, there must be something that's just not right about this. I mean, you don't go in and peel the bananas or oranges before buying them. You don't shell the pecans that are sold in the shell before buying them. Why would anyone think it was ok to shuck the corn before buying it?
To top it all off, there was a trash can right next to the display. Where did they put all of the husks and silk? On the floor between the display and the trash can. It's amazing the gall some people seem to have.
It could be pointed out that these folks were not Caucasian. They were of a nationality that is commonly deemed to be brighter and perhaps harder working than the average American. I guess smarts and class are not always mutually inclusive.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Back Home...
After a weekend with family, we are happy to be home again. This was a pretty good weekend. Matthew had a great time climbing all over Grandaddy, and Grandaddy seemed to enjoy playing with Matthew. It's good to see them interract like that.
I'm happy to report that Grandaddy's buffet restaurant was as good as he told us it was. All of the food was fresh and tasty. They had just about anything you wanted as long as it was fried, along with the usual assortment of vegetables you would expect in that part of the country (peas, turnip greens, okra, lima beans, etc, etc). I also had hot water cornbread for the first time since college. I need to learn how to make that stuff. Dang, it was good.
About that family reunion... I need to be very careful about what I say. My Dad let on that he found my blog (Thanks alot, Staci). We had a good time at the reunion. The food was good, and the people were nice. Of course, you have the usual group of old people that seem to have nothing else to talk about but their ailments. I heard about back pain, leg pain, arthritis, etc. One of the men kept telling us he was losing his memory. I guess he didn't remember that he had already told us... While it is good to see all of these folks again, it is sort of sad to see them in such bad physical shape, and obviously not enjoying themselves anymore.
After a weekend with family, we are happy to be home again. This was a pretty good weekend. Matthew had a great time climbing all over Grandaddy, and Grandaddy seemed to enjoy playing with Matthew. It's good to see them interract like that.
I'm happy to report that Grandaddy's buffet restaurant was as good as he told us it was. All of the food was fresh and tasty. They had just about anything you wanted as long as it was fried, along with the usual assortment of vegetables you would expect in that part of the country (peas, turnip greens, okra, lima beans, etc, etc). I also had hot water cornbread for the first time since college. I need to learn how to make that stuff. Dang, it was good.
About that family reunion... I need to be very careful about what I say. My Dad let on that he found my blog (Thanks alot, Staci). We had a good time at the reunion. The food was good, and the people were nice. Of course, you have the usual group of old people that seem to have nothing else to talk about but their ailments. I heard about back pain, leg pain, arthritis, etc. One of the men kept telling us he was losing his memory. I guess he didn't remember that he had already told us... While it is good to see all of these folks again, it is sort of sad to see them in such bad physical shape, and obviously not enjoying themselves anymore.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Redneck formal attire...
After we left the restaurant tonight and were back on the highway, Shelly commented on the attire of one of the other patrons. It was a sort of large guy wearing denim overalls. She noted that it seems that every time she sees a middle aged or so person with a big belly wearing overalls, that the side buttons are never fastened.
This, my friends, does not sit well with Shelly. She mentioned that it was almost like pure laziness. Then she made a comparison that made me almost run off the road from laughing. She said that overalls were almost like onesies for bubba's.
I'll never be able to see another guy in overalls again and not laugh
After we left the restaurant tonight and were back on the highway, Shelly commented on the attire of one of the other patrons. It was a sort of large guy wearing denim overalls. She noted that it seems that every time she sees a middle aged or so person with a big belly wearing overalls, that the side buttons are never fastened.
This, my friends, does not sit well with Shelly. She mentioned that it was almost like pure laziness. Then she made a comparison that made me almost run off the road from laughing. She said that overalls were almost like onesies for bubba's.
I'll never be able to see another guy in overalls again and not laugh
Bad Food...
After work today, we loaded up the truck and hit the highway for Grandpa's house. It was about dinner time, so we were looking for a place to eat. Shelly saw a sign for a restaurant called "The Hot Biscuit", and wanted to try it. The place seemed ok, maybe a little dated on the interior, but fine for a small town that is basically just a whistle stop on the highway.
They had a buffet for Friday night that seemed to include some of just about everything on the menu for $6.99. Given that most items on the menu were about that price, we decided for the buffet. We should have opted for the usual fast food meal ordered through a speaker and delivered through the car window.
This place was complete CRAP. To top it off, I got a piece of what I thought was smothered steak. One bite, and I knew I had made a terrible mistake. It was LIVER. I thought I was going to have to lick the sole of my shoe to get that awful taste out of my mouth.
I am convinced that if you find a small town in the Southeast and serve large quantities of food at low prices, the quality of the food is irrelevant. People will come because it is cheap and lots of it. There was a restaurant full of oversized Bubba's (and Bertha's) loading up on this crap like there was no tomorrow. I give it a negative 1 out of 5 stars. It would have been worse than that, but their sweet tea was freshly made and just right.
Note to Katie, I know I said last week that sweet tea covers a multitude of sins, but that was before we found this place.
God, I hope that place Granddaddy wants to go tomorrow is better than this.
After work today, we loaded up the truck and hit the highway for Grandpa's house. It was about dinner time, so we were looking for a place to eat. Shelly saw a sign for a restaurant called "The Hot Biscuit", and wanted to try it. The place seemed ok, maybe a little dated on the interior, but fine for a small town that is basically just a whistle stop on the highway.
They had a buffet for Friday night that seemed to include some of just about everything on the menu for $6.99. Given that most items on the menu were about that price, we decided for the buffet. We should have opted for the usual fast food meal ordered through a speaker and delivered through the car window.
This place was complete CRAP. To top it off, I got a piece of what I thought was smothered steak. One bite, and I knew I had made a terrible mistake. It was LIVER. I thought I was going to have to lick the sole of my shoe to get that awful taste out of my mouth.
I am convinced that if you find a small town in the Southeast and serve large quantities of food at low prices, the quality of the food is irrelevant. People will come because it is cheap and lots of it. There was a restaurant full of oversized Bubba's (and Bertha's) loading up on this crap like there was no tomorrow. I give it a negative 1 out of 5 stars. It would have been worse than that, but their sweet tea was freshly made and just right.
Note to Katie, I know I said last week that sweet tea covers a multitude of sins, but that was before we found this place.
God, I hope that place Granddaddy wants to go tomorrow is better than this.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Family Reunion...
Going to a family reunion this weekend. It's in Jasper, TX. Need I say more?
I think this might be one of those deals where I see some of the same distant relatives I saw at another reunion for another side of the family. In that part of the country, family trees have more trunks than limbs...
We'll follow that up by taking my grandfather to his favorite restaurant. It's in some small town on the north side of Lake Sam Rayburn. Not sure where, but it has a seafood buffet and live country music on Saturday nights. I think it costs something like $3 each for dinner. I'm expecting something along the lines of the buffet Eddie took Clark to in "Vegas Vacation"
Anyone else have weekend plans that can compare?
Going to a family reunion this weekend. It's in Jasper, TX. Need I say more?
I think this might be one of those deals where I see some of the same distant relatives I saw at another reunion for another side of the family. In that part of the country, family trees have more trunks than limbs...
We'll follow that up by taking my grandfather to his favorite restaurant. It's in some small town on the north side of Lake Sam Rayburn. Not sure where, but it has a seafood buffet and live country music on Saturday nights. I think it costs something like $3 each for dinner. I'm expecting something along the lines of the buffet Eddie took Clark to in "Vegas Vacation"
Anyone else have weekend plans that can compare?
Birthday Parties...
I hate going to kids birthday parties, but as a parent it's something that is part of the deal. Next weekend we are having a party for Matthew's 3rd birthday. His birthday was actually last week, but his cousin's on Shelly's side were out of town last weekend, and the ones on my side are out this weekend. So, next weekend it is.
The last 2 years, we have tried for low key, mostly family type deals. The first year we had 35 or so people in my house. Last year, my parents hosted 25 or so people. These are just relatives, not even Matthew's daycare buddies.
This year, we are inviting all of the other little kids. God only knows how many will be there, but we rented out the play room deal at our church and will have an inflatable for them to jump in. Throw in some party favors and pizza for the crowd, and I've just dropped $400 or so smackers. Am I the only one that thinks that's a pile of money for a kid's party? Well, at least that crowd isn't coming to my house.
If we have a second child, I hope the birthdays are close so we can combine parties.
I hate going to kids birthday parties, but as a parent it's something that is part of the deal. Next weekend we are having a party for Matthew's 3rd birthday. His birthday was actually last week, but his cousin's on Shelly's side were out of town last weekend, and the ones on my side are out this weekend. So, next weekend it is.
The last 2 years, we have tried for low key, mostly family type deals. The first year we had 35 or so people in my house. Last year, my parents hosted 25 or so people. These are just relatives, not even Matthew's daycare buddies.
This year, we are inviting all of the other little kids. God only knows how many will be there, but we rented out the play room deal at our church and will have an inflatable for them to jump in. Throw in some party favors and pizza for the crowd, and I've just dropped $400 or so smackers. Am I the only one that thinks that's a pile of money for a kid's party? Well, at least that crowd isn't coming to my house.
If we have a second child, I hope the birthdays are close so we can combine parties.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Dreaming of Omelette's...
Sunday morning was a morning to sleep in at my house. The yard had been done on Saturday, we were ok on laundry, and the house was fairly clean. Besides, it was raining outside.
Around 10:00, Shelly and Matthew headed downstairs. I laid in bed watching TV for a little while longer. When I went downstairs, I was getting pretty hungry. I knew from the sounds coming out of the kitchen that something was being cooked. It turns out that Shelly was making cheesy eggs and toast (cinnamon toast). Of course, since I stayed in bed a little longer than them, The breakfast that was made wasn't for me. I was on my own.
For many men, this would cause a problem. It's not a problem for me. I like to eat, and fortunately, I also like to cook. Even better, I find my cooking to be quite tasty. After a quick survey of the available ingredients, I set to work. I diced up some smoked deer sausage and browned in the skillet with some chopped sweet (yellow) onion. While that was working it's magic, I beat 3 eggs with some salt, pepper, and a little milk. It's important to beat them into a froth so the omelet comes out a little fluffier (maybe, maybe not, but it sounds good anyway). Start the omelet in the skillet and when the egg starts to set, add the sausage, caramelized onions, and some grated cheese. Serve with a few pieces of toast, and you are set (not in a pop-up toaster, butter it and toast it under the broiler). To use a southern phrase, "So good, it makes you want to slap yo Mama."
Bragging a little, aren't we? You betcha. I do have to be a little careful, though, I only have 4 or 5 packages of deer sausage left, and deer season is still 4 months away.
Sunday morning was a morning to sleep in at my house. The yard had been done on Saturday, we were ok on laundry, and the house was fairly clean. Besides, it was raining outside.
Around 10:00, Shelly and Matthew headed downstairs. I laid in bed watching TV for a little while longer. When I went downstairs, I was getting pretty hungry. I knew from the sounds coming out of the kitchen that something was being cooked. It turns out that Shelly was making cheesy eggs and toast (cinnamon toast). Of course, since I stayed in bed a little longer than them, The breakfast that was made wasn't for me. I was on my own.
For many men, this would cause a problem. It's not a problem for me. I like to eat, and fortunately, I also like to cook. Even better, I find my cooking to be quite tasty. After a quick survey of the available ingredients, I set to work. I diced up some smoked deer sausage and browned in the skillet with some chopped sweet (yellow) onion. While that was working it's magic, I beat 3 eggs with some salt, pepper, and a little milk. It's important to beat them into a froth so the omelet comes out a little fluffier (maybe, maybe not, but it sounds good anyway). Start the omelet in the skillet and when the egg starts to set, add the sausage, caramelized onions, and some grated cheese. Serve with a few pieces of toast, and you are set (not in a pop-up toaster, butter it and toast it under the broiler). To use a southern phrase, "So good, it makes you want to slap yo Mama."
Bragging a little, aren't we? You betcha. I do have to be a little careful, though, I only have 4 or 5 packages of deer sausage left, and deer season is still 4 months away.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Pigeons...
Man, I hate pigeons. In this town, they are all over the place. A couple of weeks ago, we put up a bird feeder. In the last week, the birds seem to have found it. We have about 20 doves back there at all times, with just about as many sparrows. We also have one pair of cardinals.
Well, the dregs of the bird community showed up today. A pigeon was back there eating and chasing the other birds off. So, I got rid of him the only way I could think of that would keep him from coming back later (and telling his buddies about this place).... He succumbed to lead poisoning.
Man, I hate pigeons. In this town, they are all over the place. A couple of weeks ago, we put up a bird feeder. In the last week, the birds seem to have found it. We have about 20 doves back there at all times, with just about as many sparrows. We also have one pair of cardinals.
Well, the dregs of the bird community showed up today. A pigeon was back there eating and chasing the other birds off. So, I got rid of him the only way I could think of that would keep him from coming back later (and telling his buddies about this place).... He succumbed to lead poisoning.
Clean truck...
Anyone reading for any length of time probably has an idea that I enjoy working on our vehicles. I have a vast assortment of tools, and like using them. One thing I don't like so much is cleaning the trucks.
Within a few minutes of both the office and our house, we have good car washes that do exterior only washes. I'm not talking the deal where you put a couple of bucks in, pull in and stop while the wash goes back and forth. I'm talking the pull in, food off the brake, car in neutral, and it runs you through the tunnel with the cloth deals, rinses, dries, and spits you out the other end. As a result, both trucks are usually presentable - on the outside.
Well, last weekend, I rode with the bro-in-law in his Tahoe. He bought his a couple of months after we got ours. They are both the same interior color, so the interiors are almost identical (mine has a sunroof, his is 4wd). Anyway, his was immaculately clean. No dist, no trash on the floorboards, and the cup holders were even spotless. Well, I was ashamed at how bad I had let my truck get.
This morning I hit the local Auto Zone and picked up a few supplies, then stopped by the car wash on the way home. After the exterior was cleaned, I hit the free vacuums and cleaned the floors of everything that would come up. Once I was home, I shampooed the carpets, put leather cleaner / conditioner on all of the seats, cleaned all of the other plastic and vinyl surfaces (dash, door panels, console, etc). After doing that, I put the shiny stuff on the tires and the black trim on the front and rear bumpers. I even pulled the floor mats out and cleaned them with soap & water. And yes, the cup holders are free of random debris and are spotless. It does look good.
Shelly has informed me that her truck is getting done next weekend. Her Expedition is the "Mommy Car", so that's a big job. There are probably 20 lbs of cheerios stashed around in the various nooks and crannies in that truck.
One other thing... You know that 3rd brake light that all vehicles come with? The one on my Tahoe is right above the rear window. About 2 years ago, it crapped out on me. Simple enough, right? Wrong. I took it off of the truck to see about replacing the bulb(s) in it, only to figure out that it is a series of a bunch of LED lights. You can't replace the bulbs, you have to replace the whole light. No big deal, unscrew 2 screws, unplug the deal, and put the new one on. Yes, it's that simple, but the new ones are a dealer only item, and they are over $150. Too rich for my blood. They keep inspecting it each year, so it's been burned out for a while.
Well, I was perusing Craigslist the other day and hit pay dirt. $20 later, I'm back in business. That's a good deal, but I don't understand why Chevrolet had to get all fancy with the LED lights when they could have put in a deal that takes standard tail light bulbs. I could have fixed it 2 years ago for about $1.
I might strut all the way to work tomorrow. The truck is clean, and all lights once again are working.
Anyone reading for any length of time probably has an idea that I enjoy working on our vehicles. I have a vast assortment of tools, and like using them. One thing I don't like so much is cleaning the trucks.
Within a few minutes of both the office and our house, we have good car washes that do exterior only washes. I'm not talking the deal where you put a couple of bucks in, pull in and stop while the wash goes back and forth. I'm talking the pull in, food off the brake, car in neutral, and it runs you through the tunnel with the cloth deals, rinses, dries, and spits you out the other end. As a result, both trucks are usually presentable - on the outside.
Well, last weekend, I rode with the bro-in-law in his Tahoe. He bought his a couple of months after we got ours. They are both the same interior color, so the interiors are almost identical (mine has a sunroof, his is 4wd). Anyway, his was immaculately clean. No dist, no trash on the floorboards, and the cup holders were even spotless. Well, I was ashamed at how bad I had let my truck get.
This morning I hit the local Auto Zone and picked up a few supplies, then stopped by the car wash on the way home. After the exterior was cleaned, I hit the free vacuums and cleaned the floors of everything that would come up. Once I was home, I shampooed the carpets, put leather cleaner / conditioner on all of the seats, cleaned all of the other plastic and vinyl surfaces (dash, door panels, console, etc). After doing that, I put the shiny stuff on the tires and the black trim on the front and rear bumpers. I even pulled the floor mats out and cleaned them with soap & water. And yes, the cup holders are free of random debris and are spotless. It does look good.
Shelly has informed me that her truck is getting done next weekend. Her Expedition is the "Mommy Car", so that's a big job. There are probably 20 lbs of cheerios stashed around in the various nooks and crannies in that truck.
One other thing... You know that 3rd brake light that all vehicles come with? The one on my Tahoe is right above the rear window. About 2 years ago, it crapped out on me. Simple enough, right? Wrong. I took it off of the truck to see about replacing the bulb(s) in it, only to figure out that it is a series of a bunch of LED lights. You can't replace the bulbs, you have to replace the whole light. No big deal, unscrew 2 screws, unplug the deal, and put the new one on. Yes, it's that simple, but the new ones are a dealer only item, and they are over $150. Too rich for my blood. They keep inspecting it each year, so it's been burned out for a while.
Well, I was perusing Craigslist the other day and hit pay dirt. $20 later, I'm back in business. That's a good deal, but I don't understand why Chevrolet had to get all fancy with the LED lights when they could have put in a deal that takes standard tail light bulbs. I could have fixed it 2 years ago for about $1.
I might strut all the way to work tomorrow. The truck is clean, and all lights once again are working.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Selling of information... (a rant)
Ok, we opened the mail today and received another package. It was baby formula. A free sample. We've received several similar samples and literature that would indicate an impending arrival of an addition to our family. We have no new arrivals to announce.
We started 2007 by sharing good news with all of our friends and family. On New Year's day, we made the rounds of both of our families and told them we were expecting an August arrival. Within a week, we were in the emergency room in the middle of the night looking at an ultrasound with a little peanut shape but no heartbeat. It was devastating to say the least. I'll not go into details about procedures my wife had to endure, but it was not a fun couple of weeks. A couple of months later, we had good news again, followed by another heartbreak.
Why am I sharing this? It's just because I'm sort of pissed off about the whole deal. It's obvious that the hospital or doctor provided information about our anticipated arrival to someone who has passed it along to whoever keeps sending this stuff to our house. The middle of August is going to be hard enough without having to be reminded of loss each time we open the mailbox. It just seems to me that it is a little insensitive for someone in the medical field to share your personal information. Isn't that sort of thing part of some privacy act? I can't think of anyone else that would have had that information to share with these people sending formula and diaper samples to our house.
Ok, we opened the mail today and received another package. It was baby formula. A free sample. We've received several similar samples and literature that would indicate an impending arrival of an addition to our family. We have no new arrivals to announce.
We started 2007 by sharing good news with all of our friends and family. On New Year's day, we made the rounds of both of our families and told them we were expecting an August arrival. Within a week, we were in the emergency room in the middle of the night looking at an ultrasound with a little peanut shape but no heartbeat. It was devastating to say the least. I'll not go into details about procedures my wife had to endure, but it was not a fun couple of weeks. A couple of months later, we had good news again, followed by another heartbreak.
Why am I sharing this? It's just because I'm sort of pissed off about the whole deal. It's obvious that the hospital or doctor provided information about our anticipated arrival to someone who has passed it along to whoever keeps sending this stuff to our house. The middle of August is going to be hard enough without having to be reminded of loss each time we open the mailbox. It just seems to me that it is a little insensitive for someone in the medical field to share your personal information. Isn't that sort of thing part of some privacy act? I can't think of anyone else that would have had that information to share with these people sending formula and diaper samples to our house.
Bad parents, rotten kids... (a rant)
ok, first I'll have to say that we're not perfect parents, and Matthew is not a perfect child, but there are a few things that really bug me, and thankfully we've managed to avoid these issues (for the most part)
Unruly kids in restaurants.
We tend to eat out a couple of times per week. Matthew is quite capable of handling the restaurant scene without making a scene, and I don't consider that to be an accident. First off, Matthew sits in a high chair or a booster chair EVERY TIME he eats a meal. I'm not talking the booster chair that gives him a little lift, I'm talking the portable high chair deals that strap to a regular dining chair and have a belt made into them to keep him confined. He is belted / strapped in each time WITHOUT FAIL. Keeping him in one place accomplished several objectives. 1. It makes our evening more enjoyable since we don't have to fight to keep him at the table. 2. He tends to eat better when his mobility options are limited, and 3. Others around us are able to enjoy their meals without a kid running wild. We have purchased 3 of the portable booster / high chairs. One stays at a Shelly's parent's house, one at the ranch, and one in the truck so we always have it available. It's something he is used to now. He actually buckles the belt himself (even though he can't yet get it unbuckled himself)
I know many people that either don't put their kids in high chairs, or don't strap them in because they complain. It's all about conditioning. Matthew used to complain on occasion about going into the high chair. We found that if you ignore the protests and proceed without responding to them, the protest will last about 10 seconds, usually less. Now it's something he expects. Early on, Matthew had 2 options at a restaurant - buckled in his high chair (behaving properly), or buckled in his car seat in the truck - with no toys or dvd to watch. He was not allowed to sit in our laps (because they are NEVER satisfied with that for more than about 30 seconds before they want down to wander). He was also not going to pitch a fit and disturb others around us.
Only once in 3 years have we ever had to ask for our food to go. In that instance, Shelly took him to the truck and I waited in the restaurant for the server to box it up for us (it was at Johnny Carino's). One other time, I was about finished with my dinner and I took him out to the truck while Shelly finished her food and paid. Both times there were meaningful repercussions and we have not had a repeat episode. To be fair, there are some times that it's unfair to take him into a setting like that. If he's tired, not feeling well, has missed a nap, or whatever the reason, you don't take a cranky kid out to a place that they have to sit still for 45 minutes or so. They can behave, but they are still kids. Restaurants have take out for a reason (or cook at home).
I'm a parent, but I'll be damned if my kid is going to cause someone else not to enjoy their evening. I resent it when someone else doesn't control their kids and it makes me enjoy my evening less. Either control your kids, or get take-out and feed them at home.
Car seats.
What is it with all of the people riding around with their kids and no car seats? We spent good money buying car seats for Matthew. When he is in the car, he is buckled in. It's not an option. I think we may be a little anal about it, but it's important to us to make sure he is safe. We make sure that the seats are in TIGHT, properly buckled and tethered in the vehicle, and the straps holding him in are snug and properly adjusted. He's our only kid, and we have quite a bit of time, money, effort, and dreams invested in him. It would be a shame to squander that by not taking steps to properly protect him. You would think all parents would think the same way, but obviously not.
About 6 months ago, Matthew figured out how to unbuckle the car seat that was in my truck. He did it exactly twice. Once was in a parking lot. Consequences were explained to him if it happened again. That same day, he unbuckled himself while I was driving 70mph down the local toll road. I hit the next exit and consequences were administered swiftly (an immediate consequence as well as another once we got home to allow him to think about it). It has not happened again. Now, on occasion, he will ask permission to unbuckle after I turn off the engine, and he will wait until permission is granted.
This, like the restaurant deal above is about consistency. If it is ALWAYS done like that, it is expected. They no of no other options, so they don't expect another option.
ok, first I'll have to say that we're not perfect parents, and Matthew is not a perfect child, but there are a few things that really bug me, and thankfully we've managed to avoid these issues (for the most part)
Unruly kids in restaurants.
We tend to eat out a couple of times per week. Matthew is quite capable of handling the restaurant scene without making a scene, and I don't consider that to be an accident. First off, Matthew sits in a high chair or a booster chair EVERY TIME he eats a meal. I'm not talking the booster chair that gives him a little lift, I'm talking the portable high chair deals that strap to a regular dining chair and have a belt made into them to keep him confined. He is belted / strapped in each time WITHOUT FAIL. Keeping him in one place accomplished several objectives. 1. It makes our evening more enjoyable since we don't have to fight to keep him at the table. 2. He tends to eat better when his mobility options are limited, and 3. Others around us are able to enjoy their meals without a kid running wild. We have purchased 3 of the portable booster / high chairs. One stays at a Shelly's parent's house, one at the ranch, and one in the truck so we always have it available. It's something he is used to now. He actually buckles the belt himself (even though he can't yet get it unbuckled himself)
I know many people that either don't put their kids in high chairs, or don't strap them in because they complain. It's all about conditioning. Matthew used to complain on occasion about going into the high chair. We found that if you ignore the protests and proceed without responding to them, the protest will last about 10 seconds, usually less. Now it's something he expects. Early on, Matthew had 2 options at a restaurant - buckled in his high chair (behaving properly), or buckled in his car seat in the truck - with no toys or dvd to watch. He was not allowed to sit in our laps (because they are NEVER satisfied with that for more than about 30 seconds before they want down to wander). He was also not going to pitch a fit and disturb others around us.
Only once in 3 years have we ever had to ask for our food to go. In that instance, Shelly took him to the truck and I waited in the restaurant for the server to box it up for us (it was at Johnny Carino's). One other time, I was about finished with my dinner and I took him out to the truck while Shelly finished her food and paid. Both times there were meaningful repercussions and we have not had a repeat episode. To be fair, there are some times that it's unfair to take him into a setting like that. If he's tired, not feeling well, has missed a nap, or whatever the reason, you don't take a cranky kid out to a place that they have to sit still for 45 minutes or so. They can behave, but they are still kids. Restaurants have take out for a reason (or cook at home).
I'm a parent, but I'll be damned if my kid is going to cause someone else not to enjoy their evening. I resent it when someone else doesn't control their kids and it makes me enjoy my evening less. Either control your kids, or get take-out and feed them at home.
Car seats.
What is it with all of the people riding around with their kids and no car seats? We spent good money buying car seats for Matthew. When he is in the car, he is buckled in. It's not an option. I think we may be a little anal about it, but it's important to us to make sure he is safe. We make sure that the seats are in TIGHT, properly buckled and tethered in the vehicle, and the straps holding him in are snug and properly adjusted. He's our only kid, and we have quite a bit of time, money, effort, and dreams invested in him. It would be a shame to squander that by not taking steps to properly protect him. You would think all parents would think the same way, but obviously not.
About 6 months ago, Matthew figured out how to unbuckle the car seat that was in my truck. He did it exactly twice. Once was in a parking lot. Consequences were explained to him if it happened again. That same day, he unbuckled himself while I was driving 70mph down the local toll road. I hit the next exit and consequences were administered swiftly (an immediate consequence as well as another once we got home to allow him to think about it). It has not happened again. Now, on occasion, he will ask permission to unbuckle after I turn off the engine, and he will wait until permission is granted.
This, like the restaurant deal above is about consistency. If it is ALWAYS done like that, it is expected. They no of no other options, so they don't expect another option.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Beard Trimmers...
I'm starting to get used to this facial hair deal. Shelly still doesn't really like it, but she hasn't made me shave it yet. Emphasis on yet. I got it trimmed when I had a haircut last week, and it was needing to be trimmed up again. Instead of having to go to the haircut joint, I stopped in Wal-Mart and picked up an electric trimmer. They had several to choose from, but Paul Harvey always swore Wahl was the best, so I bought one of theirs. It must be good since it had a 5 yr warranty, 30 day unconditional guarantee, and a snag free guarantee. All for only $24.95
I charged that baby up and turned it loose on my chin this evening. Snag free, my BUTT. Man, that crap HURT. I think it forcibly yanked more whiskers out by the roots than it trimmed. Next time I see Paul Harvey... He won't think it's such a good day.
I'll be hitting Wal-Mart tomorrow for a refund.
This reminds me of a story about Tommy from a few years ago. He was living in New Orleans. He had moved into an apartment and didn't have a vacuum cleaner. Every couple of weeks, he would head down to Wal-Mart and buy the most expensive vacuum cleaner they had, vacuum his apartment, then return it. No questions asked. I think he did that until he married Joanna and they got a vacuum cleaner as a wedding gift.
I'm starting to get used to this facial hair deal. Shelly still doesn't really like it, but she hasn't made me shave it yet. Emphasis on yet. I got it trimmed when I had a haircut last week, and it was needing to be trimmed up again. Instead of having to go to the haircut joint, I stopped in Wal-Mart and picked up an electric trimmer. They had several to choose from, but Paul Harvey always swore Wahl was the best, so I bought one of theirs. It must be good since it had a 5 yr warranty, 30 day unconditional guarantee, and a snag free guarantee. All for only $24.95
I charged that baby up and turned it loose on my chin this evening. Snag free, my BUTT. Man, that crap HURT. I think it forcibly yanked more whiskers out by the roots than it trimmed. Next time I see Paul Harvey... He won't think it's such a good day.
I'll be hitting Wal-Mart tomorrow for a refund.
This reminds me of a story about Tommy from a few years ago. He was living in New Orleans. He had moved into an apartment and didn't have a vacuum cleaner. Every couple of weeks, he would head down to Wal-Mart and buy the most expensive vacuum cleaner they had, vacuum his apartment, then return it. No questions asked. I think he did that until he married Joanna and they got a vacuum cleaner as a wedding gift.
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