Planting Season

Spring has arrived in force here at Paradise on the Severn. There should be a picture of today in the illustrated dictionary next to the entry for "ludicrously beautiful day". 75 degrees and perfectly clear sky can only mean one thing: Planting Season has begun.

The Wife went to the local purveyor of botanical bounty whilst The Kid tried to take her morning nap, to return with a metric butt-load* of mulch and some stuff to put in the ground so as to beautify and aromafy our little slice of heaven. I donned my work duds to make sure I was properly protected from the elements both floral and meteorological, and we began.

The two of us did some grunt work in the front of the house and then moved to the back in order to get some more pre-planting prep work done.

I got to use one of my super powers** to clean up the woods in the back, but with great power comes great responsibility. Once my task was complete, I was as untouchable as Rogue until I cleaned myself up.

Once The Kid joined us, the planting was enjoined in earnest. We planted an assortment of flowers, along with herbs for to cook with. Fresh is always better when it comes to such things, and it's even better when you have to work for it. Despite her not-so-advanced age, The Kid was most helpful. She helped dig holes for Mommy and had a ball with the mulch spreading. The three of us were quite a team indeed.



The day was not without injuries, as yours truly suffered literally hundreds of small wounds from the several holly bushes in the front of the house. Despite the long sleeves, I was rather beat up once I was done.



Don't worry, tho. I'm trained to withstand this kind of pain. Your tax dollars at work and all.

I know what you're thinking; where are the pictures of this beautiful work you did? Well, plants are not really into the whole gotta-have-it-now thing. It will take some time before we can enjoy the basil, parsley, tarragon. All in good thyme. Get it?!?

*Unit of measurement. Take an imperial butt-load, double it, and add 32.
** I'm not allergic to Poison Ivy. That and $3.50 will get me a latte.

Weapons Release is Authorized

Those who know me know that I'm a bit of an aviation buff. Never flown anything, but I have read just about everything written about both military and civilian aviation.

From everything I've read, there is a special point in the career of a military combat pilot. Namely, the first time a pilot gets to release actual, no-kidding, live ordinance onto a target.

A pull of the trigger and there's a THUNK, WHOOSH, or BRAAAAAP, depending on what you're trying to do. Weaponeering can be amazingly tedious, so I won't bore you with that.

Anyway, it is not a simulation, but a real actual weapon homing in and (hopefully) hitting the target with the desired effect. Assuming you've taken all of the variables into account. There's a lot to do to get to that point.

You: Ahem. I don't come here to read this type of thing. That's what Lex is for.

Me: I know. I'm getting to it.

Last night I was playing with The Kid and she (being almost 2) did something she knew was wrong and had been warned about previously.

Master Arm; on. The pickle is hot.

"OK. That's it. Go to your room." Bombs away!

Sounded just like a Dad.

For the record, she was not happy about the my decision. She spent the next few minutes telling The Wife and me that she was "In trouble [with] Daddy."

BDA is tonight to see if she does the same thing again. I'm hoping a re-strike won't be necessary. I want to do that as little as possible while still achieving all our strategic (and tactical) objectives.