JeopardyinMD

Autumnal Rite of Passage

2010-11-21T09:11:00.005-05:00

We took advantage of the beautiful weather last weekend for to clean up some of the leaves in the back yard. The Kid was never into the whole "jumping into leaf piles" thing, but she sure changed her tune this year.

Been a while, hasn't it?

2010-11-12T11:47:00.002-05:00

So, yeah, I've been letting this lie fallow for a bit. getting back the creative spirit that left me for some reason. Been busy, too, but I'll catch folks up on things in short order.

I figure this is like a farmer's field. I can't have something in it all the time without some depletion of the underlying nutrients.

I'll have more in the next day or so. I promise...

One Day...

2010-05-21T21:28:00.002-04:00

I am the father of a 3 year old, as well as a bit of a history buff. These two seemingly disparate worlds came together yesterday in a rather amusing way.

The Kid is beginning to express her independence, so she likes to "read" her books to herself. She looks at the pictures and then makes up stories about what she sees. The stories usually go something like this: "One day, there was a bunny rabbit. Then he took a nap." It's pretty cute, really.

She's also fond of using the potty all by herself, only needing us at the very end.

So yesterday, she goes into the potty and tells me to wait outside the door until she's done.

Don't worry, I'm getting to the history part in a minute.

Through the door, I hear, "One day, there was a man with a moustache..."

I peek inside, and there is my daughter, sitting on her little potty, reading this month's Quarterly Journal of Military History.

I'll give you three guesses who is on the cover this month.

Answer here.

A Sad Day

2010-05-14T08:18:00.002-04:00

At Chez Lex. For the two or three of you who read this, but not that, please drop by and leave him a note.

To My Daughter on Her Third Birthday

2010-04-23T18:36:00.000-04:00

I cannot begin to tell you

what a difference you've made in our lives

Your smiling face in the morning

your sleepy face at night

There is nothing in the world

that can compare to when you say

"I love you, Daddy."

When a hug and a kiss

can make you feel better

lets me know I'm doing at least something right

You're becoming your own wonderful person

a little more every day

a true testament to your amazing mother

I cannot look at you and not be filled

with love, hope, and joy

You make everything I do worthwhile

Just remember that I love you more

than you can ever know.

- Your Loving Father

Snow-pocalypse III: Welcome to the Thunderdome

2010-02-08T17:11:00.005-05:00

The National Weather Service is calling for an additional 10 - 20 inches beginning tomorrow afternoon. Heaven help us all. 4 feet of snow on the ground is a bit much, don't you think? I can shovel it just fine but where will am I going to put it? The snow bank next to the driveway is already 8 feet high. Pulling into the driveway is like flying an X-Wing through the trench to destroy the Death Star. Reminds me of bulls-eyeing womp rats in my T-16. Good times.

By this time tomorrow, this town is going to be like a really cold version of Max Max, complete with roving gangs of marauders and to-the-death cage matches for toilet paper.

At least one area school system has already said that school is closed until Tuesday. Next Tuesday.

Will we ever get out of here?

Snow-pocalypse II: Electric Boogaloo

2010-02-08T10:00:00.002-05:00

Again? Hey, I love snow just as much as the next guy, but this is ridiculous. Redonkulous, some would say. It started at about 1 in the afternoon, and 24 hours later there's well over 2 feet on the ground. An inch per hour for an entire day, and it didn't stop until later that night.

A friend calculated that, assuming 20" average snowfall across the state of Maryland, it amounts to about 4 cubic miles of snow. It would make a snowman (using the standard 4:3:2 ball ratio) about 21,000 feet tall. That's quite a snowman.

We're trying to keep The Kid occupied, since getting out is a non-starter for at least 24 hours. She can play reasonably well in a foot of snow, but this stuff is up to her chin. Where's the fun in that?

On the upside, we didn't loose electricity, which is more than I can say for some of my friends in the area. Now that I've said that, I fully expect to be in the dark any second now.

Nope. Still here.

Our living room looks like a Chinese landfill with all the toys scattered about. We're all terminally bored, except the cat. He's pretty much business as usual. What I wouldn't give to be him.

On the upside, we're had The Wife's famous chicken and dumplings for dinner, which is just about the very best thing to have when you're snowed in.

I'll post some pictures as soon as I have something to take a picture of that isn't just a wall of white.

Did I mention that we're getting another 5+ inches on Tuesday? Gulp.

Snow pictures 2010

2010-02-08T09:57:00.010-05:00

None of us went to work today. The Wife tried, but only got about 4 miles down the road before she turned around. Discretion being the better part of valor and all that.

We dug out yesterday, and I came to the conclusion that I am an old man. 2 1/2 feet of snow weighs a lot.

Here is what our driveway looked like before we began the shoveling.

About 3 hours later, we had most of the driveway done. For a sense of scale, here's my car, snow still on the roof.

Yes, that's a MINI Cooper. One of the smallest cars on the market.

BTW, we didn't put it in the garage because we were operating under the theory that the leaving it out would mean less snow to shovel off the driveway. I didn't get any statistically valid measurements, but I think it worked. Especially with the amount of snow that we got.

The back yard? Yeah. Won't be visiting that for a while.

We did get The Kid out in it yesterday, but there's not much to do in snow that deep.

Still calling for more snow tomorrow night into Wednesday. At least 5 inches, probably more. daytime highs in the high 20's. Down into the low teens at night.

Lastly, our good friends the Stuttses (who are stationed in Hawaii) posted some photos of the view from their kitchen window. Here is what ours looks like. I'd rather have theirs.

Happy 2010

2010-01-28T09:20:00.011-05:00

Now that it is almost February, and the snow is (almost) all melted, I'll go ahead an put up a new post. I was going to make a New Years resolution to blog more often, but then I remembered that I don't do resolutions. Too much work.

Anyway, we had a wonderful Christmas, surrounded by all manner of friends and relatives. New Year's Eve was a night to remember as well, if only we could remember all of it.

The Kid, being 2, really cleaned up this year. Loved everything she got, especially her new rocking horse, which she promptly dubbed "Midnight". Oh, how she loves to gallop along.

We spent time with our Midshipman, to whom The Kid is becoming more and more attached.

Graduation day in 2012 is going to be tough. On all of us, methinks.

Now, for no particular reason, The Kid, with donut. And a donut shirt. Very po-mo.

Lastly, The Wife was out of town last weekend, leaving me to watch The Kid for 3 entire days. Haven't done that in over a year. Saturday was crummy weather-wise, so that meant a lot of playing in the house. On Sunday, I decided to take The Kid where all little girls love to go and probably dream about. That's right, the Greater Washington Model Railroad Expo. We rounded up Grandma and Grandpa and then made our way to the Dulles Expo Center.

Before I get to the pictures and (gasp) video, a quick warning to reader Toolbox:

Please, please try and contain yourself, especially when you realize that your granddaughter absolutely LOVED all of this. Loved it, loved it, loved it.

Back to the expo. The place was packed, and was quite impressive.

All the different scales (HO, N, Z, etc.) were represented by some truly astonishing layouts. Here's a switchyard in (I think) N-scale.

Thomas was there, of course, in may different forms. There was even a Thomas that the kids could ride, but the line for that went pretty much all the way around the building, and could have ended somewhere in West Virginia for all I know. We kept The Kid away from that particular part of the exhibit hall.

One of the modelers had built a special Thomas track that the little ones could see. Nice touch. Note the Lexan sneeze/drool/booger shield.

So yeah, she liked it well enough. She liked the big ones too. Here's a representative example.

After we got home, The Kid apparently decided that she wanted to hypnotize me into getting her a train set.

Like I would ever refuse...

Snow-pocalypse 2009: By the Numbers

2009-12-21T08:21:00.008-05:00

Inches of Snow: 22

Inches of ice at the bottom of the snow: 1.5

Hours spent shoveling: 3.5

Advil taken to relieve pain in lower back: 4

Number of "Spongebob Christmas Special" viewings: About 20

Number of snow plows through our neighborhood as of 0800 Monday: 0

"Really? No snow plows?"

Oh the Weather Outside is...

2009-12-19T11:02:00.005-05:00

Delightful. With a capital D.

At least 12 inches so far, and we're only about half way through. It started last night at about 9, and there was at least 6 inches by the time I got up this morning.

We took The Kid outside for to play in the white stuff, but she was a little scared of it, since it was almost up to her waist. I grabbed my trusty shovel and cleared a path for her. After that, she was all smiles.

We even made snow angels.

More later. Now it's time for some cocoa and a nap.

Twice The Fun

2009-12-03T20:45:00.017-05:00

Our old neighbors the Stutts family (Ike, Caroline, Julianna, and Mason) came by the other day, while en route to Ike's new duty station in Hawaii.

They came with their 3 month old son, Mason, who is just adorable. Too bad they didn't go with my suggestion. It's hard to believe that The Kid was ever that small.

The Kid got to play with the Stutts' daughter, Julianna, who just turned 3. Seeing them playing together just warmed our hearts. After a few moments of hesitation, the two of them were like best friends again.

First order of business was to re-construct Fort Sandifer (long story) out of the sofa and blankets.

Even using the "Kids and Pets" setting on the camera, it was difficult to get a shot of both frenetic kids smiling. I don't think they stopped moving for more than 3 seconds over the course of the evening.

After setting up and securing the fort, it was time to explore. Of course, you can't go exploring without daddy's special exploring hat.

Happily, the girls had no trouble sharing the hat.

The highlight of the evening was when the big daddy bear came in and attacked their outpost.

You'll probably want to turn the volume up all the way, since the girls are trying to be quiet.

He he he. And yes, I am wearing a cardigan. Mostly because I know how much The Wife and Caroline love it when I dress like an old man.

The Stuttses also got to see their cat, Caffrey, who we're watching until they get back from Hawaii in 3 years. He clearly remembered them, and he put up with the girl's attention for a good while before he decided that there must be a nice quiet spot somewhere else.

We'll see them again this weekend, and then they're off to their new island paradise. I'm thinking that we'll just have to go and visit.

Here are another few shots from the recent past, which I think are kind of neat.

First, here's a shot of me, taken by The Kid. It was hard for her to remember which way to point the lens, so there are quite a few shots of her face taken from a distance of o inches.

Here is the aforementioned cat, enjoying the warm fire.

Here are a few The Kid sleeping in the car.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T19:27:00.009-05:00

Private Tollison looked down at his tray. There was turkey, gravy, green beans, yams, mashed potatoes, and cranberries. It looked delicious. Thanksgiving dinner, the first one he hadn't spent at his mother's table. Everything looked perfect, but it wasn't mom's. He longed to be with his mother and father once more.

Reporting out of Basic to a new unit a week before Thanksgiving was a less than ideal situation. His assignment out was the 204th Brigade Support Battalion, Fourth Infantry Division. So he was in Fort Carson Colorado, and it felt a million miles from his home in Alabama. Only God and the Army Chief of Staff knew what he was going to be doing here, but on this day it didn't really matter. Here he was, far from home, alone, a little afraid, and looking down at a plate of food he didn't want to eat.

He looked around and only recognized one other person in the cavernous mess hall, and that was a casual relationship. They had gone through basic together, but hadn't bonded much. At least he knew his name. Tollison felt alone, unloved, and uncared for.

Tollison then felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. Instinct turned him towards it.

It was his battalion CO, who had taken command only 2 days prior.

"What's wrong, soldier? Not good enough?" he said with a light hearted smile.

"Looks great Sir, but..."

"But what, private?"

Tollison looked around. At the front of the hall, he saw the table where the CO had been sitting. At it were what appeared to be his wife and 3 kids. Next to them was an older couple. Probably the LTC's parent's or in-laws.

Seeing the CO and his family together gave him hope. Here was a Lieutenant Colonel, with multiple war zone tours under his belt, and he was spending this precious holiday with his soldiers. There must have been a lot of places he'd rather be, but here he was. This was a man he could follow. He knew what sacrifices the colonel must have made over the years to be where he is today. Seemed like someone who had his back. If the CO did, the other soldiers in his platoon must as well.

"But nothing, Colonel Bertulis. I'm just proud to be here. This sure looks good."

"It is, private Tollison. Enjoy. And in the spirit of the day, thanks for being here."

"Thank you, sir. I will." he replied, as he picked up his fork and dove in.

The Colonel was on to the next soldier, talking to him and thanking him too.

Maybe this Army wasn't a bad choice after all.

Bittersweet

2009-11-22T07:45:00.000-05:00

I suppose I'm technically a milblogger, but I don't really blog much about the goings on in the armed forces. Quite frankly, there are several folks out there who do that WAY better than I could ever hope to.

Being a Navy kid, I grew up all over the place. Florida, Rhode Island, DC, and even Naples, Italy. Some of my fondest memories, though, are of Brunswick Maine. We were stationed there from '76 to '81 (1st to 6th grade for me), and I consider it my hometown as much as anywhere else. I made friends there that I still see several times a year. One of them, Jason was the best man at my wedding, and his brother Adam was a groomsman. I've known them since I was 7 years old, and are as much a part of my family as my blood relatives. Jason even went so far as to have a son with the same birthday as me.

Brunswick is where I was in Cub Scouts, built my first tree house, and made my first model airplane. I would still have that plane, too, if I had not been playing with it at a friend's house, only to have his mom drive over it with her car. It was a 1/72 scale P-51D Mustang. Dad and I went Bass fishing on a lake with an Algonquian name that was hard-pressed to pronounce at age 9, and probably couldn't do much better with at 39.

Memories like that run deep.

Having said all that, I have to say I was a little sad when my sister sent me this.

Bases open and close all the time, as national defense priorities and missions change. Brunswick was the epicenter of maritime patrol and anti-submarine warfare (ASW) during the cold war. With the Soviets gone, there isn't much call for tracking what's left of their submarine fleet. Heck, we don't even call it ASW anymore. The venerable* P-3 Orion now hunts for drug smugglers off South America and performs stand-off intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) all over the place. For an ASW guy like my dad, Brunswick was the place to be back in the day.

For me, I was just a kid, living my life and waiting to see my dad climb down that ladder and run across the tarmac after a 6 month deployment. Actually, I don't think his feet ever touched the rungs. When that last P-3 lifts off today, I'll be thinking of the leaves, snow, woods, fishing, firewood, Jason T, Adam, Ann-Marie, Ben, Seth, Judd, Darcy, Jennifer, Kent, and Jason H. And shedding a bittersweet tear or two.

* There's an old saying in military aviation: When people start referring to the airplane you fly as "venerable", it's time to update your resume.

Going on Safari

2009-10-22T21:20:00.004-04:00

Imagine my surprise when I was informed last night that my presence was requested on a safari.

To see bears.

And Swiper the fox.

At least we have a map.

Story Time

2009-10-16T20:25:00.006-04:00

The Kid loves story time. Every night before bed, we read a story or two.

We recently picked up "Going on a Bear Hunt", which at first glance seems like an odd title for a two year old. I mean, how many two year olds are out hunting bears?

One of the fun things we like to do is let The Kid finish each phrase or sentence in the book. For some reason, she really took to this one. It has a repeating chorus which was fairly easy to remember.

I mean seriously. How cute is that?

Am I the luckiest guy in the world or what?

Every day is a beautiful day.

Going Home and Coming Home

2009-10-12T12:41:00.018-04:00

We took The Kid on her first airplane ride last weekend up to the old family farm in Rhode Island. The Farmhouse itself was built in the 1820's, and has been in my father's family for a few generations. When I was born, my great-grandmother was living there, along with some of her siblings and their children. My grandparents moved there in the mid 80's.

My father spent a chunk of his childhood living there, and it was, in his adulthood, the home of his grandparents as it is now for me. Alas, it appears that the last generation of my clan is living there now. It is improbable that either my father or his brother will move into the house. What will become of the property after that is anyone's guess.

The Kid loved the plane ride, as the next 2 pictures will attest. She was an absolute delight and thought that zipping through the air was the neatest thing ever.

The majority of my father's family lives within an hour or so drive from the Farm, to include aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and assorted other relatives whose relational definition is best left to genealogists. What the heck am I to my great-uncle's children's children? What is their relation to The Kid? Why do I care? In any case, a good deal of them came over one or both days. I think there were 16 for dinner on Saturday.

The youngest in attendance was 4 months (my cousin's newborn) and the oldest was 89, my grandfather. He'll be 90 in January. Speaking of my grandfather, he's been farming (you can't call what he does gardening) since Noah was a midshipman. He plants a plethora of veggies every year. Peas, corn, carrots, potatoes, peppers, tomatoes, cabbage, squash, and everything else. He's had to cut back in recent years due to advancing age. He only had about 1/2 acre this year. Yeah. I have a 2 foot by 3 foot "garden" in my back yard that's too much for me sometimes. We should all be as lucky as him.

The Kid enjoyed corn-on-the-cob for the first time, grown by the same person who grew the first ear of corn I ever ate.

There were a lot of moments like that this weekend. My great uncle and I swapped stories about pubs we visited in the UK. I was there as a reservist. He was there during the war. B-24 Liberators. Silver Star and the DFC. That's a lot to live up to. And a debt we all owe.

We arrived on a picture-perfect New England autumn afternoon. If you close your eyes and imagine your most idyllic scene, that's probably pretty close. I took a short walk down the road from the Farm to the old mill pond and this is what I found:

Pictures just can't do justice to the scene.

We went to a local apple orchard's pumpkin festival for hot cider, pies, donuts, and a hay ride.

Sunday morning was cold. First frost I'd seen this season.

That's one of my grandfather's gardens. There is another one the same size behind the house. Impressive, no? When I got back inside after taking the picture, I was glad to see the woodstove going.

We flew home on Sunday. It was bittersweet to leave, but to stay would have been to tempt the fates for delivering us such a perfect weekend. My grandmother got to see 6 of her 9 great-grandchildren at once. That doesn't happen very often.

It's hard to find the right words to describe what the whole weekend was like. All around us were scenes that were so idealized that had I not been there in person, I wouldn't have believed it. Like driving on the kind of leaf-covered back road that you only see in car commercials. Colonial houses that don't look a bit out of place, mostly because they date to the actual colonial era. A den of Cub Scouts learning how cider gets made. Leaves that were changing color almost by the hour. My wife and daughter walking through a pumpkin patch looking for the perfect one. The only restriction being that it was small enough for The Kid to carry. She didn't want it to be one that we picked out. It was hers. She ended up giving it to her great-grandmother, who loved it.

Anyway, I'll post some more of the pics (sans commentary) later.

A Day in Haiku

2009-09-19T17:30:00.008-04:00

Dunno what struck me, but I was feeling poetically asian today.

Deep in my backyard

There are some purple flowers

They grow on the ground

The leaves are brown now

Soon they are falling softly

lots of work to do

Off to Baltimore

Port Discovery was fun

Now we need a nap

Spongebob on TV

The Kid is smiling broadly

Patrick makes me laugh

Caffery is fun

He likes to be in windows

Good thing they are open

Football, beer, and chips

Saturday in the autumn

I hope my team wins

Flank steak on the grill

Soy sauce, garlic and ginger

Yummy for us all

Film we haven't seen

Lucas dissapoints again

Hiding in a fridge?

Still Here

2009-09-15T08:27:00.012-04:00

Rest assured, I'm still here. Just busy.

First, Caffrey is still hangin with us, and we're loving it. He's getting more affectionate every day, and now sleeps at the head of the bed, usually on my side. The Kid asks about him every day when I pick her up from daycare. "Go home and see Caf-fur-ry? He's a good boy."

On the personal side, I got promoted last weekend. Don't clap too much, the promotion was automatic. Every O-2 gets promoted to O-3 after 2 years if you don't get in trouble. Or get caught. Either way...

My folks came up on Saturday morning, along with The Wife, The Kid, our Midshipman, and an old family friend. My CO administered the oath, and The Wife and The Mid pinned on my shoulder boards.

Repeat after me: "I promise to not pick up women by singing 'You've Lost that Lovin' Feeling' while wearing this uniform."

After the ceremony, The Kid went back to spend the weekend with my folks. A good time was had by all.

If there's one thing that little children love, it's spending time with grandparents. Below we see The Kid taking her grandpa by the hand to take him somewhere. I can just here her now:

"C'mon Grampa. I need to show you something over here."

Settling In

2009-08-29T20:02:00.010-04:00

Caffery is acclimating nicely to his temporary digs. He's finding all kinds of places to snuggle and sleep, including where the sun falls in the afternoon.

He's found the high ground.

He has a new friend, who loves giving him kisses.

He's also found out where we sleep, and plants his considerable mass at the foot of the bed (usually my foot) for the duration of the night. I won't lie to you, it's nice to wake up to.

Lastly, because everyone needs a gratuitous picture of The Kid, I present:

Yeah, I am actually that lucky. Who knew?

The View from the Other Side of the Street

2009-08-26T20:35:00.015-04:00

Hello humans. I found this computing thing logged on and thought I would check in.

My name is Caffrey. I am a felis catus and have found myself residing in a really nice hotel run by 2 humans I remember from my distant past, as well as one of their offspring. They seem nice enough, although their child insists on pronouncing my name with three syllables; Caf-Fer-Ry. Not really sure what that's all about, but the small one pets me and seems to like me, so I'll overlook it.

These new humans have yet to learn that my vertical leap can exceed 6 feet. Until that time, I fully expect to find more nom-noms on the table like the McNugget I saw earlier today. Unfortunately, the woman that runs the hotel espied my stealthy approach and swipped my potential prey before I could strike. Too bad. It looked teh yummeh.

jhsadhasdosadoughuasdbjhakdfuhhdfbjb --- CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED ---

Hello all. Jeopardy here. Sorry about that. As you may have guessed, we are cat-sitting, for our dear friends the Stuttses, while they take care of their newborn son. Remember him? No, they didn't name him Bubba, but Mason is pretty cool too.

I know what you're thinking: What's with the cat?

The Stutts 4 are in Jacksonville, FL for a few months, and during that time, their cat was here with Caroline's folks, Nee Nee and Pop Pop. When we heard that Nee Nee and Pop Pop were headed down to JAX, we volunteered to take care of the cat while they were gone. Ergo, a new, but temporary cat.

He's fitting in nicely, finding spots to hang out (mostly by windows) and figuring out the best ways onto the counters, tables, and any other horizontal surface other than the floor.

It's nice to have a 4-legged pal in the house again. Still too soon for a new one of our own, but anything we can do to help a friend.

A Lost Art

2009-08-10T19:49:00.006-04:00

The conventional wisdom is that canning is a lost art. There has been a resurgence of late, what with the recession and all. Of course, some people have been canning all along. My sister-in-law (The Kid's aunt Shannie) is one of those people. Of course, it helps that they have a rather extensive garden. When I say extensive, I mean extensive...

While I was defending the country this weekend, The Wife took the Kid down to the farm and came back with lots of canned goodies. What was The Kid's favorite? That would be the green beans. She couldn't even wait for us to get them out of the jar. Don't believe me?

Yeah. It was like that.

The Kid also learned an important lesson this past weekend. When a Southern Lady visits a garden, one must dress...appropriately.

That isn't to say that a Southern Lady (hereinafter referred to as a Magnolia) is not capable of a little hard work. If you have a yard that needs to me mowed and a tractor with which to mow, Magnolias will always help.

LOLCat

2009-08-07T13:09:00.004-04:00

Anyone who knows me knows why this teh funneh.

This Will Do

2009-08-04T20:35:00.005-04:00

For now, anyway.

I decided on Sunday that we needed to get out of the house with The Kid for a little bit and did a little shopping.

Among other things, we bought an infrared video baby monitor. Fascinating stuff. Turns out she doesn't actually go to sleep when we put her to bed. She tosses and turns, talks, walks around in her crib (!), and re-arranges her stuffed animals.

Until she falls asleep about an hour after we put her down, it's the best show on. Bar none.

Speaking of stuffed animals, The Kid is still asking where Prynnie is. I tell her that she's gone and won't be coming back, but she doesn't get it.

So we dropped by a few toy stores to see if we could find a stuffed animal that at least resembled Prynnie.

Lo and behold, we did.

The Kid loves her. Calls her Prynnie and gives her hugs.

Now when she asks, I tell her "She's over there." and point to her new favorite toy.

Makes me happy.

What could be Better

2009-08-01T08:20:00.002-04:00

than having your daughter make you some pancakes on Saturday morning?

Not much.

Catharsis in Prose

2009-07-30T19:38:00.004-04:00

I suppose I’m writing this for myself more than anything, but it’s my blog, so I can pretty much do what I want for whatever reason.

Back in May, our cat got sick, so we took her to the vet. I wrote about it here.

It’s now almost August, and while things improved for a while, they started going downhill again about 2 or 3 weeks ago. We decided to discontinue her IV treatments since they were obviously not helping anymore. All we were doing was putting her in needless pain to prolong the inevitable. By last week she had stopped eating regularly, and Monday was the last time she ate anything at all. She was getting weaker and weaker by the day.

On Tuesday night, she followed us up to our room and slept on the bed all night. Although she used to do that every night without fail, she hadn’t done it since June. It must have taken everything in her to make it up the stairs.

By Wednesday night she had become so weak that she was barely able to stand. Although she had weighed around 9 pounds at her maximum, she had probably dropped to around 4. She was still bright and alert, but her body was wasting away in front of us.

She was in pain, and we knew it. The Wife and I had a heart-to-heart and knew it was just a matter or time. We had to do the right thing by her.

I called The Wife from the office this morning and asked her if the appropriate arrangements could be made. She’s a rock at times like this, and for that, I am forever grateful. I knew full well that my colleagues and subordinates didn’t need to see me trying to make that phone call. Not good for morale and all that.

When she called back, she said an appointment was set for 4 this afternoon. That way we could take care of it before we had to pick up The Kid. She didn’t need to be involved. I called my boss and cryptically explained that I needed to leave a little early. She could tell it was something I needed to do.

We got home, spent a few final moments alone at home, and got in the car.

The event itself was what it was. I’ve been through it before, and it wasn’t easy then either. A dose of anesthetic, and she fell asleep. Once it had taken effect, the doctor administered the final sedative that would end her pain. The wife and I were petting her the entire time, and she had her head lying on my arm. Once it was done, the doc left the room so we could be alone. I’m not ashamed to say that I cried. We both did. A lot.

We composed ourselves as not to frighten the other patrons, picked up the empty cat carrier, and left. Vets never make you pay for this sort of thing right away. It’s probably best that way.

We returned home to a house with filled with reminders of the life that no longer lives here. Her food dish, water bowl, and even the litter boxes. Removing them is part of the process. It has to be done, and putting it off won’t help.

Lastly, there’s The Kid. At her age, she can’t comprehend what has happened. She’s looking around for Prynnie, and asking where she is. I try to explain, but she won’t understand for quite a while. And that’s OK. As long as she remembers, as long as we remember, Prynnie will always be with us.

Anyway, now I have 4 cats waiting for me on the other side. So I have that going for me. Which is nice. :=)

Zanyas

2009-07-29T19:43:00.007-04:00

No, it isn't a make of eastern European car. Nor is it a recently discovered stellar object.

That's how a 2 year-old refers to lasagna.

We decided it was time to begin The Kid's culinary training, so we figured lasagna was as good a place to start as any.

Mixing the cheese was something she could handle. Moderately well, anyway.

How did it turn out? You tell me...

More importantly, did The Kid like it?

Oh yeah.

Vacation

2009-07-16T15:39:00.000-04:00

So, we were on vacation a few weeks ago. Didn't blog about it, since that seemed to me the best way to say to the world: "HEY! Want a slightly used TV? Come get ours. We're not home."

We have some pics, but most of them are in The Wife's camera, which is safely secured in her desk. At work. At least it's safe.

We made our annual trek to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and a good time was had by all, especially The Kid. After some initial trepidation, she took to the pool like, well, a kid to water. Hard to keep them apart. Like opposite poles of a magnet.

The Kid was with us for the first half of the week, and then went to stay with her Grandparents so we could try to act young again, only to have the cruel reality of time rear its ugly head and remind us that we're not young anymore. But hey, at least we tried.

The Kid is growing like a weed (2+ inches in the past 3 months) and learning new things every day. She never ceases to amaze me with what she's learning. Last week, she climbed up onto the sofa with me, gave me a hug, and said "I love you Daddy. I'm happy you're my daddy."

Gulp. Why yes, there is something in my eye. Why do you ask?

I'll get pictures up soon, I promise. Until then, enjoy this...

Happy 4th of July!

2009-07-04T12:28:00.003-04:00

I Thought We Were Over This Part...

2009-06-12T14:17:00.006-04:00

0245 local

Me: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Kid (via Baby Monitor): Daddy? Mommy?

Me: Snort. Huh? Wuh?

Kid (via Baby Monitor): I hungry. Need hummus.

Me: [groan]

Kid (audible without monitor): WAAAAAAAAAAA!

Me: [grumble]

I walk (stumble, really) into The Kid's room. She's standing in the crib, tears running down her face. She wasn't feeling well earlier in the evening, and didn't have much in the way of dinner. Truth be told, she doesn't actually want to eat. She wants to be all better, and mommy and daddy can do that, right.

Turns out that as parents we're not endowed with magical powers to heal the sick, as much as we may want to. It also turns out that a good hug and a reassuring rub on the back can work wonders. We rocked in the chair, the two of us, in the dark.

Once I was relatively confident she was back in dreamland, I carefully put her back in the crib, making sure she had her blanket and paci-FIRE*.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead and tucked her in.

As I turn away, I hear a muffled "I love you, Daddy."

Hard to go to get back to sleep after that. In a good way.

Does We Like Pudding?

2009-06-03T20:37:00.005-04:00

Yes, precious. We does.

We just don't keep it in our mouth very well.

Hester von Prynnenstein, Duchess of Bavaria

2009-05-20T22:14:00.005-04:00

This is my cat.

Her name is Hester Prynne (don’t ask). Truth told, her full name is Hester von Prynnenstein, Duchess of Bavaria. We call her Prynnie for short.

I’ve had her for 14 years. Got her as a kitten, and she has been my constant companion over the years.

Those who know me are well aware that the two of us are virtually inseparable. She sleeps on my pillow every night, and is never far from one of our laps.

About 2 weeks ago, she was losing her appetite and, not to put too fine a point on it, piddling where she oughtn’t. A trip to the vet was in order, so on Friday last I got her in the carrier (no easy task), and took her over to the local Cat Clinic for a look-see.

14 year-old cats are approaching old age, and, like us, begin to have health issues. I am a rational adult, and fully aware of the circle of life and all that crap. Still, it’s never easy to confront.

Blood tests were done and results acquired. Although the doc said “we don’t like to use the term ‘kidney failure’”, the term “early stages of kidney non-functionality” sounds suspiciously like kidney failure. To me anyway. What do I know? I didn’t go to vet school, but I did take an English class or two over the years.

“There are options”, says she. There always are. “Hospitalization for fluid treatments, or you can do it at home. It’s easy. We’ll even show you how.” This, dear reader, is when money rears its ugly head. Economics have to be taken into account. There’s also that pesky “quality of life” nut to crack. Another tough one. I can’t really explain to a cat why she has to endure such things, much less endure it somewhere other than home. The Wife and I decided to go with home care. That means, dear friends, that every night, after we have all supped and The Kid safely and snuggly a-bed, we collect the cat, IV bag, and needle. 18g x 1”, for those readers who are medically trained (Hi Caroline and Lili!).

We hang the bag, insert the needle under her skin and spend the next 15 minutes or so waiting for the appropriate dosage of potassium chloride, for to restore some of that “kidney non-functionality”. Does she tolerate it? Surprisingly well, actually. After 4 weeks of this, we’ll re-evaluate. The Wife has been enormously supportive through this, further affirming the validity of the commitment we made to each other on that beautiful March afternoon. A typical conversation goes something like this; “Are you OK?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” “Are you lying?” “A little.” Then a hug, which I graciously accept.

It’s gonna be a long month.

Same as it Ever Was

2009-05-07T20:18:00.013-04:00

Deployments are a part of military life, and Navy life in particular. My father flew the P-3 Orion, land-based patrol aircraft. When he was in a flying billet, he was deployed pretty much half of the time. 6 months home, 6 months away, in a never-ending rotation. It was only during a "shore duty" command that he was home more often than that.

At the time, the Army and Air Force were different. Although they didn't deploy per se, those families tended to move a lot more often, and lived in way more exotic places (back then) like Korea and Germany. I knew Air Force brats that moved pretty much every 18 to 24 months for years on end.

Me, I liked the Navy way better. Sure it sucked dad being gone, but abode stability was a small price to pay for having a dad with the coolest job in the world short of astronaut or secret agent. And those involve significantly more travel, from what I hear.

In any case, I was recently going through some old pictures that my parents converted from slides (remember them?) into the much more robust format of the digital image, and I came across this one:

Patuxent River Naval Air Station, July 1971. VP-49 is leaving for a deployment to Keflavik Iceland, a base where I would serve (if ever so briefly) some 30-odd years later.

The young LT walking across the ramp is my father, and the woman holding the infant is my mother. I'm the infant, in case you hadn't gotten that far. This scene is replayed across the Navy every day of the year. Always has been, always will be. Sailors walk away from their families to an airplane, ship or sub, or even a commercial airliner for folks that do what I do.

As a kid, what did I know? It was a part of life. Didn't all dads do that? I can't recall ever thinking, "gosh, it sucks that my daddy has to do that". I thought they all did.

I don't think it was until I had to leave my own daughter that I understood what it must have been even remotely like. And his deployments were pre email and international phone calls for less than $10 per minute. We got letters, most of which I have kept. Yes dad, I'm being a good boy for mommy and I have cleaned my room.

Have you ever watched one of those History Channel-esque documentaries on the military? And how they have the obligatory scene of the return from the deployment? Yeah, still kinda chokes me up.

But you know what? It makes me truly appreciate my family. My wife, my loving parents, and my absolutely perfect daughter.

But do you know what I thought was really interesting about this picture?

See that number on the tail? 156529?

That plane is still flying. Converted to an EP-3 and assigned to VQ-2, according to the latest information.

That means that sometime in the next 12 months or so, there will probably be another young LT walking on a ramp, towards that same plane, with his wife and infant son waiving goodbye.

More Birthday Fun

2009-05-02T21:05:00.007-04:00

And a new family member to announce...

No, it isn't another kid.

Now that the grandparents are breathing again, We went to another second birthday party today. A wonderful couple we met at our birth classes. Their kid was born a week after ours, so there's always back-to-back festivities.

The Kid had fun, too. A sand table filled with rice was pretty cool. A lot less clean-up for everyone.

Lastly (because I know you're dying to see what I'm talking about), the hosts had a raffle. The object was to guess the number of goldfish crackers in a jar. I guessed 502, since the date was 05/02. Figured the hosts were being clever and making it a fun game with a twist. Turns out the actual number was 600. The number itself didn't mean anything. I have a tendency to overthink things on occasion.

Anywhoo,

The actual prize was Dorothy.

So Lily, Toolbox, Grandma and Grandpa, meet your new Grandfish.

The Kid likes her, and The Cat seems mildly intrigued by the new addition.

As we were leaving the party, the birthday girl's grandparents offered us a little advice.

"It's a lot easier to replace it than explain what happened to it."

Lots of wisdom there. Probably based on experience.

Birthday Fun

2009-04-28T09:17:00.011-04:00

As I noted last week, The Kid's birthday party was on Saturday, and what a day it was. The Wife went with a ladybug theme this year, including ladybug and flower cupcakes.

So the children played in the sandbox.

While the menfolk talked of manly things.

Remember those cupcakes with the bright red frosting? Yeah, that may have been, in retrospect, a dangerous move. Ever seen a toddler eat a cupcake?

The first thing I thought of when I saw this was "the first rule of Toddler Fight Club is you don't talk about Toddler Fight Club."

As for The Kid, I think she really enjoyed spending time with her "boyfriend" from daycare, Johnnie. I dunno. Take a look at this and tell me they're not smitten with each other

Or this one

Methinks it's going to be a rough couple of decades.

Just Tryin' to Help

2009-04-23T21:02:00.009-04:00

Our good friends, the Stutts family, is getting ready to have another baby. I've written about Julianna before, and now she's going to have a baby brother.

Unfortunately, the Elder Stuttses are apparently having difficulty coming up with a name. I feel that I may be of some assistance in this matter.

You see, Dad Stutts comes from good Alabama stock. Heart of Dixie, and all that. Lots of tradition there.

There is one very traditional southern name that I believe would fit very nicely for the soon-to-be young Stutts.

I very humbly submit the name Bubba.

Bubba Stutts. Seriously, how cool is that name? With a name like that, you can do anything.

Sheriff Bubba Stutts is one law enforcement officer whose authoratay you would have to respect.
Bubba Stutts is quite simply the best linebacker Auburn has seen in the past 25 years.
When you get in a spot of trouble with the law, Bubba Stutts is the lawyer for you.
Bubba Stutts is the only fighter pilot in the Navy whose callsign is his real name.
If there's anyone who looks good in a seersucker suit, it's Bubba Stutts.
Bubba Stutts' Barbeque is the best in the county. Most folks say it's the best in the state.

It's a great name. You'll thank me later. Trust me.

2 Years

2009-04-23T13:51:00.007-04:00

24 months, 104 weeks, 731* days.

At 6:35 pm on April 23, 2007, a little person was brought into our lives, and we haven't looked back since.

A lot changes when you have a kid. Most of which we expected, but there are plenty of things that you simply cannot fathom until it happens to you. It reminds me of the conversation between McCoy and Spock at the beginning of Star Trek IV. McCoy wants to know what it was like to be dead, but Spock says such a conversation would be meaningless since they lacked a "common frame of reference" when discussing it. I suppose the same thing can be said about parenting. You really can't fully know what it's like until you do it.

To me, the most fascinating thing about a child is watching them learn things. At first, they are little more than input/output devices that make noise for (seemingly) no reason. Over time, they gradually being doing actual things in response to the world around them.

The Kid smiled at me for the first time on June 23, 2007. I remember that like it was yesterday. She was sitting with The Wife, and when I walked into the room, she smiled.

She became more mobile, crawling, and eventually walking by her first birthday. And, of course, talking.

In the past year, she's become a little person, with moods other than "crying" and "not crying". She knows how to ask for things (by saying please) and engaging in what is, for her, conversation. Gone are the days where her world consisted exclusively of nouns, and now has verbs, adverbs and adjectives.

She's no longer afraid of things like grass and dirt. In fact, she's now entered the "dirty" phase, which makes getting pictures of her not encrusted in either food or mud a bit of a challenge. I love it.

We've got a big party planned for Saturday, so I'll have pictures to post after that.

* Leap year...

Planting Season

2009-04-18T17:51:00.005-04:00

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

2009-04-13T21:09:00.008-04:00

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.

How much is enough?

2009-04-11T08:18:00.007-04:00

For those of you expecting an essay on corporate greed, the merits of executive compensation and bonuses funded by you, the taxpayer, I regret to inform you that this will not be the place.

Hurts my brain to think about such things.

I'm-a gonna talk about fish. The raw kind. You know, sushi.

6 people for dinner. How much to get?

All of it, apparently. For those of you thinking that you might want to go fishing this weekend, we sincerely apologize for eating all of the fish in the Atlantic Ocean.

A good time was had by all. A rousing game of Cranium followed dinner, along with an impromptu discussion of non-Keplarian motion facilitaed by yours truly. That in turn led to a debate on the economic merits and pitfalls of fusion power. Free electricity? Maybe.

Gotta run, the Spinach and Gruyere strata is ready to come out of the oven. Mmmmmm.

Cornering the Market

2009-04-07T20:20:00.005-04:00

Funny things happen when you have kids. You tend to get a bit scatterbrained on occasion.

Things you should probably remember are quickly forgotten.

Specifically, why are we attempting to corner the market on Seasoned Salt?

Is this the beginning of some James Bond arch villain plot to hold the cooking world for ransom?

All these containers are more than 3/4 full, and currently reside in our spice cabinet.

Step 1: Get Seasoned Salt

Step 2:

Step 3: Profit

A Few Pics

2009-04-07T13:44:00.015-04:00

Sorry for the light posting, but been busy with life and all.

Here are some pics from the trip to the UK.

First up is a shot of yours truly with a shipmate I have known and served with for 10 years. This was our first time we have had the opportunity to go on AT together.

Next is the obligatory shot proving that I was actually in England, not just some bar somewhere. This is one of the few known photos of me in the UK where I am not holding a beer in one hand.

Another pub, another pint.

Covent Garden. Another pint and the sun glinting off my giant forehead.

This is the ceiling of the RAF Bar at the Eagle Pub in Cambridge. This particular watering hole was frequented by American servicemen (primarily USAAF) during WWII. Some of the crewmembers took it upon themselves to leave their names behind in a rather unique way; by writing their names in smoke using matches and lighters. Although I can't confirm it, word is that this is not the original ceiling, but rather a large-format photograph of the original.

Note: I was probably holding a beer when I took this picture.

Update: Sure enough. Beer in hand. Looks like an Old Abbot or perhaps Old Speckled Hen

This is the parish church in Molesworth. This part of England is dotted with small villages and hamlets, each with a church pretty much exactly like this one. I included this one because a) we drove by it every day, and b) it has a bit of interesting history.

If you look closely at the top of the steeple, you'll notice that the stone changes color near the very top. This church is about a mile away from what was a B-17 base during the war. The story is that a B-17 clipped the steeple when landing in bad weather.

The best part about the trip was the return home.

The Wife and The Kid met me at the airport, which was pretty special. As soon as I walked through the doorway to the arrivals area, The Kid screamed "DADDDDDDIIIIEEEEEE!" at the top of her lungs and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. She ran into me like a linebacker, threw her arms around my neck and hugged me longer than she ever has before. The Wife had the camera with her, but couldn't get it out in time. No matter. The pictures wouldn't do the moment justice anyway. They never do.

February 5th???

2009-03-06T12:08:00.002-05:00

Really, February 5th? I gotta get better at updating this.

So, everyone is back to what passes for normal in our house, which is a nice change of pace.

I've been a bit busy with work lately, and prepping for my 2 weeks of active duty which I'm doing now. Those of you who know me on Facebook know where I am, but I kept the rest of you fine folks in the dark. Sorry 'bout that.

Left DC on Saturday last for a fortnight in Jolly Olde, just in time to miss the 9 inches of snow that I'm sure crippled DC. Talk about timing... I'm in the same place I went last year in East Anglia. A bit colder this time of year, but I'm not complaining. I guess I could complain, but it wouldn't seem, you know, proper. The base wi-fi was down for the better part of 2 days, but we all make sacrifices for the sake of the Service.

Of course, it's not all Beer and Skittles over here. Ale and Chips is more like it. I've managed to PT every day, which I fear is hardly putting a dent in the gallon or so of beer that I feel compelled to drink whilst I'm here. General Order #1, never heard of it around here.

Seriously, I miss The Wife and Kid terribly, but the email updates from home are wonderful.

I hope to have some pics up soon. Until then, cheerie-o and all that.

Patient Zero

2009-02-05T13:04:00.007-05:00

In epidemiology, the term Patient Zero is sometimes used to refer to the initial patient in an epidemiological investigation. It is more formally known as the Index Case, but whatever the name is, it refers to "the guy that started it all".

We're still trying to piece together who exactly Patient Zero is here at Casa del Jeopardy. Suffice it to say, things are bad. Yours truly had the one-two punch of Influenza followed by rapid onset norovirus, which made for an uncomfortable 2 weeks. And we're not out of the woods yet. Lacking a BSL-4 facility at home complete with space suits and a laminar flow hood, restricting contagion among the nuclear family was all but impossible. The best we could do was to isolate as much as possible and keep our contact with the outside world to a bare minimum. We were going to spend some time with our adopted midshipman (is midshipperson even a word?) last weekend, but the thought of being responsible for infecting the entire Brigade at the Trade School brought forth visions of a very distressed LTjg being court-martialed for violating articles 93, 133, and 134 of the UCMJ. Good times.

The two upsides?
1) There are numerous over-the-counter medications that will take away the symptoms and knock you out for the duration.
2) The Wife was so extraordinarily helpful that she deserves some sort of award from the Public Health Service.

Norovirus is uncomfortable but not very threatening, which is a relief. I'll spare you the details, but I could probably tell you how many 1 inch tiles there are in each of the bathrooms in the house.

The flu just sucks all that and more. It made my skin hurt and made me sleep about 18 hours a day.

Viruses are a fascinating bunch of things. They are both very simple and deceptively complex in their makeup, replication and life cycle. They make for fascinating detective stories, both historical and contemporary. A sort of a whodunit with the smallest of perps. Of course it's not their fault. That's what they're designed to do. You don't blame the dog for being a dog, or something like that.

With most viruses, your immune system builds up an immunity after the first infection (that's why vaccines work and you don't usually get chicken pox more than once), but the good folks at the CDC had this distressing little tidbit about mr. norovirus:

"It appears that immunity may be strain-specific and lasts only a few months; therefore, given the genetic variability of noroviruses, individuals are likely to be repeatedly infected throughout their lifetimes."

So I've got that going for me. Which is nice. I may have to get more magazine subscriptions.

Olympic Update

2009-01-31T11:06:00.004-05:00

Sort of an update to the previous post. Since there is no one-person bobsled event currently in the Olympics, it's got to be either a 2 or 4 person team The Kid of which the kid will be a part.

As luck (or coincidence) would have it, there seems to be teammate in training a few hundred miles away from us as we speak.

Longtime readers may remember our friend Julianna. Turns out that she's into the bobsledding thing too.

Winter Wonderland

2009-01-30T20:41:00.002-05:00

Last Friday, The Wife, The Kid, and I all got in the car for the 4+ hour drove to the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains for to spend a few days with friends. A rented house at Wintergreen seemed just the thing for a winter get-together with the same group of folks we go to the beach with every June. All sand and no snow makes for a boring routine. Don't get me wrong, we're still going to the beach in June. This was just a short and very cold prelude.

Did The Kid like it? You be the judge...

What is it that makes bundled-up kids so danged cute?

"Daddy, my lips are frozen..."

Inside fun in a bouncy castle.

What was the best part? That would be the sled, which she didn't want to get out of. Probably because it required me to ferry her around like a princess.

I even had her Uncle Jason haul her up the hill to get a better video of her coming down.

There you have it. The first video of a future Team USA Gold-Medal Olympic Bobsledder. I thought maybe the Luge was a bit cooler, but have you seen what they wear? There's no way I'm letting her out in public wearing something like that. Don't even get me started on the whole "co-ed doubles luge" thing.

Giant Fun

2009-01-08T20:35:00.001-05:00

So I decided that I owed my wife a solid last night and planned to pick up The Kid from daycare and then run by the grocery store for to pick up some essentials (milk, coffee, juice, etc.). It was cold, rainy, and generally unpleasant, so I figured that a solo grocery run in bad weather would be appreciated all the more.

I’m going to preface this next part by stating that I love my wife dearly. I say this because in addition to being a loving husband and father, I am, at my most basic and fundamental level, a guy.

I un-strapped The Kid from the back seat and proceeded to carry her into the local food purveyors’ establishment. I couldn’t help but notice that the percentage of women looking at me and smiling seemed a bit higher than normal. Sure, I’m used to being ogled by the ladies, but I started to think that perhaps I had something in my hair, or had donned some manner of fashion faux pas that morning that would be brought to my attention when I arrived home to the sweet sounds of “Welcome home honey. Is that what you wore today?” As if there was any doubt.

Back to the store. The Kid goes into the cart, and the smiling continues. I believe I was in the canned goods section when I realized that: a) I looked fine, and b) The Kid is a babe magnet.

20 month olds that look like this…

are apparently soccer mom kryptonite. They are powerless when confronted with it.

The Kid behaved marvelously, which probably only enhanced and concentrated her newly discovered powers. Casually tossing a conspicuously placed copy of “Single Parent” magazine into the cart probably would have driven some of those women into a veritable frenzy, so I opted against it.

Made it out of the store with only one impulse buy (an Elmo toothbrush which The Kid espied and promptly demanded, but needed anyway), and got home none the worse for wear. But certainly with a heightened appreciation for everything The Wife does around the house.

As to the attention from all those lovely ladies, I just let it roll off my back. There’s only one woman out there I’m trying to impress.

Untitled

2009-01-08T10:56:00.003-05:00

I was going to post a humerus anecdote about taking The Kid to the grocery store solo last night, but events have transpired that have led me to postpone that one.

Back at the end of 2007, I wrote about an acquaintance of mine who was who was fighting a brain tumor.

I and many others followed his progress on his website, but it became clear last summer that his health was declining. His daily postings were becoming erratic and almost nonsensical until his brother took over and chronicled what was happening.

At 6:22 last night, David drew his last breath and was finally at peace. He was released from his suffering and went to the place where all of us, as humans, will eventually go. It is our one shared destiny.

His writings were inspiring to all who read them, and it wasn't hard to get something valuable out of them. Focus on what's important. Stay optimistic. Make a positive contribution. Never give up.

In the end, I don't like to think that he did give up. Nor did he "lose" his "battle" with cancer. It was never a fair fight. Maybe there was a reason for it. It did enabled him to use his gifts and serve as an valuable voice for those who have dealt with or will deal with the same thing. Perhaps that was his purpose for being here in the first place. I'm sure it's little solace to his family now, but I like to imagine that sometime in the future, another brain cancer survivor will find inspiration in his story enough to thank David's family personally.

Maybe that's just me being overly sentimental. Could be, but I have faith it will happen. I'm staying optimistic.

Like David did.

Tis the Season for Doing Dishes

2008-12-30T11:59:00.002-05:00

Another holiday (I use that word deliberately - you'll see why later) season has come and gone, seemingly in the blink of an eye. 6 for dinner on Christmas Eve, and another 8 on Christmas Day made for lots of time in the kitchen. Yours truly washed each plate we own at least 4 times in a 48 hour period. Talk about your dish-pan hands... Seems only fair tho. Since The Wife did all the before-we-eat work, it was right that I take care of the aftermath. Who knows when we'll finally get our refrigerator back from all those leftovers.

Christmas Eve was with The Wife's parents and the Kid's Godparents. The second round of gifts were exchanged, and after The Kid retired for the night (after being told to listen for the reindeer on the roof), and the men-folk retired for brandy and cigars. Ha! Just kidding. We spent the evening assembling toys using instructions that were translated from Chinese to English by someone who speaks neither language. It's a dad rite of passage, so I didn't complain.

Much.

Christmas Day dawned as early as ever, since The Kid has yet to grasp the concept of "sleeping in". The opening of the presents (round 3) had scarcely begun when my parents arrived, with more gifts and food in hand. Brunch was a Strata that was enjoyed by all, but loved especially by The Kid and The Cat. Both were literally begging for more. By 11:00, The Kid was reaching her MSL (maximum stimulation limit), and needed a nap. Smart one there. The brunch plates were cleared, and room was made for the afternoon snacks for to hold us over until dinner.

As I mentioned, 8 for dinner, including some dear friends who just returned from a little over a year in Australia. When I say "just returned", I mean that one of them landed less than 24 hours before after a non-stop flight from Tokyo. The fact that he was still able to speak in complete sentences was remarkable. As was the fact that they chose to spend the evening with us. Dinner was a prime rib that weighed in at a rather respectable 8 pounds, along with a metric ton of sides and sauces. If The Wife is famous for anything besides her looks, her personality, her style, and her hospitality, it's her sauces. Right Mike?

With the sun a distant memory and the last load of dishes done, I finally got to that a cigar and nightcap.

But it wasn't over yet...

The house was empty again on Saturday, but only briefly. On Sunday morning, we celebrated Hanukkah (or at least one of the days thereof) with another couple and their daughter, who was born about a week after The Kid. It was another Norman Rockwell moment, if only he had painted scenes of tables covered in bagels and Salmon fritatas. The two girls played together, and us grown-ups watched with joy in our hearts.

Back to work today, only to get ready for Wednesday, when a completely different set of people will be staying with us to ring in the New Year. 6 for dinner. I'm thinking take-out on paper plates, but something tells me that I'll be washing all of our dishes at least once more in 2008.

* Pics are coming soon. Technical problems with a Snapfish upgrade...

Early Christmas

2008-12-15T09:16:00.007-05:00

We had a bit of an early Christmas at Casa del Jeopardy over the weekend. With family members having commitments all throughout the mid-atlantic region, it became necessary to celebrate the season more than once.

Not that anyone was complaining.

The Wife's brother and his wife came up from thier bucolic paradise outside of Williamsburg so as to share in some festivities and help decorate our humble abode. The tree was trimmed, and the house bedecked with all manner of garland, greenery, and lights. Even our semi-adopted daughter, Midshipman 4/c J, joined in the fun. She took a break from her cell-phone texting and ipod listening long enough to hang an ornament or two. Teenagers will be teenagers, even when their the future leaders of America. Lest you think that this somehow bodes ill for us, let me be clear: we will be in good hands.

Gifts were exchanged, to the delight of all, especially me. I (OK, it was for both of us) got an antique rocking chair that fits like a glove, and is the perfect place to relax in my cardigan next to the fire.

Of course, no one gets more excited than kids. The Kid got something really neat from her Aunt and Uncle this year.

For those of you who didn't know, The Wife is a musician. She has a BA degree in piano, even.

So when Auntie and Uncle arrived with this,

It was like looking into the future. Or maybe the past...

On Being a Daddy

2008-12-10T21:53:00.012-05:00

Before you become a parent, everyone says to you "it's gonna change everything". What you don't realize, can't realize, is what exactly "everything" really means.

Sure, in the beginning you get a lot less sleep, and you're pretty much chained to the house 24/7. Those are no-brainers. You can probably also comprehend loving something as much as you do your child. Again, not a great mental leap.

Of course, "everything" means the little things too. The really un-obvious ones. Allow me to offer an illustration from my recent past.

Several months ago, I went to a wedding for the first time since becoming a dad. No, not that one. It was before that. The Wife couldn't go, so it was just me. Again, it was a shipmate, so I was in my Full Dress Blues, looking awfully dapper and manly. If I do say so myself.

Everything was going swimmingly right up until the father of the bride arrived at the end of the aisle with his daughter on his arm. It was at that moment I realized that someday I was likely to find myself in that position. It was a strange amalgam of fear, resignation, hope, and joy.

So there I was, flanked on either side by fellow Naval Officers, resplendent exemplars of the best America has to offer, and I'm trying my best to remain composed. From what I recall, I faked stifling a sneeze to explain the sudden un-dryness in the ocular regions of my face. At least I retained some of my dignity. I'm just glad we (as ushers) were seated in the back of the room.

I thought my father-in-law might have enjoyed or at least related to this story, so I called him the next day.

When I got done, you know what he said?

"When it was my turn, it wasn't hard at all."

That may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me...

Ask

2008-12-10T21:44:00.004-05:00

And ye shall receive...

Reading a book before bathtime. Which explains the dinner on her shirt.

Taking a bath and experimenting with new 'dos.

The reasons I wake up, the reasons I come home, the reasons for my very existence.

Shopping

2008-11-19T07:58:00.002-05:00

So, yeah. It's that time of year again. Thankfully, the intertubes have put forth a site where pretty much everything is way cool.

Looking for a gift for me? You'll find it here.

So I Got To Use My Sword Today

2008-11-08T18:12:00.009-05:00

I just got back home from attending a buddy's wedding over at the Naval Academy. Beautiful place, the Academy Chapel. And the wedding was nice, too. We're not very close, the groom and I, but he was a shipmate in need, and that's what we do.

Having a sword arch with only 5 people? Well, that's just not done. I'm local and I own a sword. It was the very least I could do.

I was more than happy to don my Full Dress Whites for the first time, sword and all. The Wife couldn't make it, since someone had to watch The Kid. It's just as well, since she didn't know anyone there at all.

I have never been on The Yard in uniform, much less in one of the nicer ones we have. Did you know that tourists just love to get their picture taken with random Naval Officers? I didn't know that either. You may also be surprised to know that there are a lot of really hot young women among those tourists, and they all wanted to get their picture taken with me. Go figure.

In a country that seems to be infatuated with litigation and warning labels, it seems that the U.S. Navy is leaving itself wide open to some sort of lawsuit by not placing warning label in this uniform.

WARNING: IF YOU EARN THE RIGHT TO WEAR THIS UNIFORM, HOT WOMEN WILL LIKELY THROW THEMSELVES AT YOU.

Halloween

2008-11-06T14:29:00.014-05:00

I know I'm a few days late in getting to it, but we made our annual Halloween pilgrimage to Greensboro last weekend.

We began the day by dropping The Kid off at her Grandparent's house (thanks Lili!) and continuing on. If you remember from last year, the drive down was absolutely horrid. What should have taken 6 hours ended up taking well over 10. This year was a complete opposite. Strikingly beautiful weather for the entire trip. We eschewed the interstates as much as possible, sticking to state routes and byways. We traversed a goodly portion of the Old Dominion, which was in its full autumnal glory.

The weather for the weekend was typical late October in the Piedmont. Highs in the 70's and lows in the 40's. I had to pack one of everything.

This event was different from years past, in that our most gracious hosts decided against the big bash and opted for a more intimate affair. Not that the big parties weren't a bucketload of fun, but it made it harder to actually, you know, socialize. The house was bedecked in all of its Halloween finery, and the photos cannot do justice to the decor.

I have to admit that I cannot remember the last time I laughed as hard as I did on Saturday night. Barbs were zinging back and forth in the way that only happens between people who have known each other as long as we all have. An outsider would have seen us laughing for no apparent reason, and to try and explain it would have somehow made it less magical for us. Suffice it to say, I am likely the worst dart player on the east coast, if not the whole of North America.

What else did we do?

Glad you asked...

We relaxed by the lake

We watched demonic Michigan fans learn to drive.

and we cornholed in the driveway for countless hours. A surprisingly difficult game, if you've never tried it. There's a whole lot more strategery then you might think.

Alas, Sunday came far to soon, and we got back into the car to head home. The Wife and I had forgotten how quickly one can pack without the The Kid and all of her accouterments. We were blessed with the same good weather going home as we had on the way down, and took an even more scenic route back to Richmond. Twisty roads through rolling hills that gradually gave way to the flat and straight topography of civilization. The Kid seemed genuinely happy to see us, and delighted in showing us the toys she has only at her grandmother's place.

Since we only get to see this particular circle of friends a few times a year, the time we get to spend with them is all the more special. Next up on our schedule is the annual March Madness weekend, which is (thankfully) much closer to home. And although college basketball ranks just above cleaning the catbox on my things-I-want-to-do-o-meter, that's OK. I don't go to watch the games.

As Promised

2008-11-03T09:35:00.007-05:00

Some photos of our fall adventure...

Going down the slide

Making new friends

Helping Mommy find the right pumpkin (or as The Kid says, "cumpin")

Running through the cumpin patch

A hayride with Daddy

Kindred Spirit

2008-10-28T07:59:00.000-04:00

Love me, love my Lego.

More here.

Roadside America

2008-10-27T10:25:00.005-04:00

It was a beautiful autumn Sunday here in the Old Line state, with a sky that was the reason someone invented the word azure. Leaves were falling, while here and there whiffs of wood smoke meandered through the air, letting all those with a sense of smell know that fall had well and truly arrived.

We packed The Kid into the family conveyance, met up with some friends, and travelled to visit a little slice of the not-so-distant past up in Ellicott City.

Before the days of Disney, King's Dominion, Busch Gardens, and the Interstate Highway System, America was dotted with small amusement parks and theme villages along the by-ways. Some were simple attractions like the world's largest ball of twine, or a back-room oddity museums, precursors of the modern-day corporate amusement park. While some of these have endured, most have lost the battle for vacation dollars to the larger, flashier attractions. Don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for a good high-tech roller coaster, but there is something to be said for the simplicity of these smaller sites.

The Enchanted Forest first opened in 1955, but closed in the late 1980's. A small and dedicated group of volunteers began raising money to re-open the park, but to no avail. In the early 2000's, they began to relocate and restore some of the attractions to a nearby farm and petting zoo. It's a shadow of its former self, but walking through the small vignettes gives you an appreciation for what we used to do when we went on vacation.

But did The Kid have fun.

I have pictures, of course, but they'll have to wait until tomorrow because the camera's memory card is safe in The Wife's work computer...

Rookie Mistake

2008-10-23T10:28:00.011-04:00

So The Wife had a networking function last night, which means I had to take care of The Kid all by my lonesome. It's been a while since I had to do it, and as she gets older, it becomes more and more challenging. In addition to the basics (feeding, cleaning, changing) we now have the added complication of entertaining the wee one for the 3 hours between getting home and bedtime. The simple solution to the entertainment issue is to acquiesce to the cries of "mowie, mowie" followed by "gooins, gooins". For those unable to translate Kid to English, this means "movie, movie" and "penguins, penguins". These are in turn translated as requests to watch Dreamworks' magnum opus "Madagascar".

Madawhoo-ha?

No, not whoo-ha. gascar.

I digress.

I resisted the urge to take the easy road and we watched The Science Channel instead, in a hopefully not in vain attempt to get The Kid as interested in cosmology as I am. It hasn't stuck yet, but it's still early.

We had the usual dinner and a bath, followed by story time and going to bed. Giving a bath solo is always a challenge, but I somehow managed to pull it off without a) letting The Kid spend extended periods of time underwater, and b) not getting completely soaked myself.

You: Where is this mistake of which you speak?
Me: I'm getting to that.

Since The Kid is all about routine (wonder where she got that?), not having half of the parenting team there left her somewhat out-of-sorts when she went to bed. Notice how I didn't say "to sleep". The Kid was in bed at about 7:30, and The Wife arrived home at 9:00 or so. Since The Kid was still more or less still awake, we decided to go on up to her room so Mommy could say goodnight.

Anyone else see where this is going?

Yeah. That went over like a lead balloon. There were tears, crying, lots of hugs, and a steadfast refusal to get back into the bed. We finally just put her into the crib and let her cry it out.

Funny thing, though. As soon as we closed the door to her room, it was as though she had been shot with a tranquilizer dart. Out like a light. Still, I don't think we'll be trying that again.

Just like Alex the Lion in Madagascar, but probably without the Sammy Davis Jr. soundtrack.

Busy, Busy, Busy

2008-10-15T08:43:00.011-04:00

Things have been pretty busy around Casa del Jeopardy these days.

Easily the biggest event of late was my 20th high school reunion. I remember when my folks went to my dad's 20th, and I'm nowhere near as old as he is. Someone must be messing around with the time-space continuum again.

Anyway...

Here we are all gussied up for the party:

And to give you some indication of how people change over 20 years, here are 3 good friends then and now.

Then:

Welcome to Mullettville, population:3

Now:

We had only been at the party for an hour by the time the 10th person asked "Why aren't you on facebook?"

I may be a tech guy, but I think I am slowly evolving into a high-order Luddite. My new cell phone can only do one thing: make phone calls. No camera, no Internet, no GPS, no frills. I think it was designed for old people. Long story short, I caved to peer pressure (just like high school) and signed up for facebook the next day. I've heard from friends that I have neither seen nor heard from on decades. When I left college in '92, there was no Internet, and by extension, no email. keeping in touch with far-flung friends was difficult, and if you lost someone's phone number, you'd likely never speak to them again. Facebook may have it's faults (it's a stalker's paradise), but I'm enjoying catching up.

I'd be remiss if I didn't note one old friend who couldn't make it. He was born with a heart condition and was always living on borrowed time. It ran out some years back. I remember he and I went to see Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom on opening weekend. As I recall, he wasn't too fond of the scene where the evil priest removed the still-beating heart from the sacrificial victim. He was a great guy with a terrific sense of humor and I was really hoping to get to see him again.

Taking the Threat Seriously

2008-10-02T08:24:00.004-04:00

As most of you probably know, I'm a computer security guy for my week-day job. I know a thing or two about viruses and such. I also know about the numerous "forward this to everyone you know" emails that always turn out to be hoaxes.

This one is real. Got it today:

A warning to everyone about some dangerous emails that are making the rounds...

If you receive an email with the subject: "Nude Pictures of Sarah Palin!", Do not open it-- it may contain a virus.

If you receive an email with the subject: "Nude Pictures of Hillary Clinton!", Do not open it-- it may contain nude photos of Hillary Clinton.

Consider yourself warned...

Uncopyrightable

2008-09-27T12:00:00.004-04:00

is widely acknowledged as being the longest word in the English language that does not repeat a letter.

Why do I care?

Well, as a consumer of all things trivial (helloooo. what's my name?), I also have a practical reason for knowing as many non-letter repeating words as possible.

A few months ago, as soon as The Kid was old enough for baths in the big tub (vice the kitchen sink) The Wife bought a set of foam letters that stick to the side of the tub. The only problem is that there is only one of each letter. Needless to say, that makes the number of words I can spell rather limited. It doesn't help that I have a compulsion to spell a different word every night.

Before you say it, I am well aware that OCD does not repeat a letter.

Another post, but somewhere else

2008-09-26T09:36:00.001-04:00

I posted on The Flight Deck for the first time in quite a while. You can check it out here.

In My Inbox Today

2008-09-24T14:45:00.000-04:00

From: HPAULSON@treasury.gov
Subject: INCREDIBLE OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU
To: Jeopardy
Date: Wednesday, September 24, 2008, 10:52 AM
DEAR AMERICAN:

I NEED TO ASK YOU TO SUPPORT AN URGENT SECRET BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH A TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF GREAT MAGNITUDE.

I AM MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY OF THE REPUBLIC OF AMERICA. MY COUNTRY HAS HAD CRISIS THAT HAS CAUSED THE NEED FOR LARGE TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF 800 BILLION DOLLARS US. IF YOU WOULD ASSIST ME IN THIS TRANSFER, IT WOULD BE MOST PROFITABLE TO YOU.

I AM WORKING WITH MR. PHIL GRAM, LOBBYIST FOR UBS, WHO WILL BE MY REPLACEMENT AS MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY IN JANUARY. AS A SENATOR, YOU MAY KNOW HIM AS THE LEADER OF THE AMERICAN BANKING DEREGULATION MOVEMENT IN THE 1990S. THIS TRANSACTIN IS 100% SAFE.

THIS IS A MATTER OF GREAT URGENCY. WE NEED A BLANK CHECK. WE NEED THE FUNDS AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. WE CANNOT DIRECTLY TRANSFER THESE FUNDS IN THE NAMES OF OUR CLOSE FRIENDS BECAUSE WE ARE CONSTANTLY UNDER SURVEILLANCE. MY FAMILY LAWYER ADVISED ME THAT I SHOULD LOOK FOR A RELIABLE AND TRUSTWORTHY PERSON WHO WILL ACT AS A NEXT OF KIN SO THE FUNDS CAN BE TRANSFERRED.

PLEASE REPLY WITH ALL OF YOUR BANK ACCOUNT, IRA AND COLLEGE FUND ACCOUNT NUMBERS AND THOSE OF YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN TO WALLSTREETBAILOUT@TREASURY.GOV SO THAT WE MAY TRANSFER YOUR COMMISSION FOR THIS TRANSACTION. AFTER I RECEIVE THAT INFORMATION, I WILL RESPOND WITH DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT SAFEGUARDS THAT WILL BE USED TO PROTECT THE FUNDS.

YOURS FAITHFULLY MINISTER OF TREASURY PAULSON

The Ravages of Age

2008-09-03T20:35:00.001-04:00

One of the things I don't appreciate about getting older is what it happening to my eyebrows.

They used to be completely normal, but now there are a few rogue hairs that have decided to go all-out. If this continues, I can't help but wonder what it will be like.

With modern image-rendering technology, we don't have to wonder. Using sophisticated age simulation technology, we can peer into the magic mirror and see my future self.

It isn't pretty:

Turns out that I'm not alone. More and more men are turning to the professionals for manscaping their manbrows.

Hard to Find the Right Word

2008-09-01T21:33:00.006-04:00

As I have mentioned before, The Kid is a pretty happy toddler. It seems like she's always in a good mood.

So, what happens when you give a first ice cream sandwich to someone who is already very happy?

They cross over into emotional territory that is beyond just bliss or joy.

Click the picture to embiggin and appreciate the mess we had afterwards. This photo was taken when she was about half-way through the sandwich.

With video goodness to boot:

Note the lizard-like tongue action.

Puzzler

2008-08-28T15:29:00.011-04:00

I wanted to bring up something that has been troubling me for some time. I fear that I am spending far too much time pondering it, and doubt I will ever find a satisfactory solution. I may very well spend the rest of my days lacking a clear resolution. Here goes...

How exactly does one throw out a trash can?

Seriously. Think about it.

I'm not talking about a kitchen or household trash can, but one of the large take-to-the-curb ones.

Let's turn a critical eye to our options.

1) Take the Can to the Curb
I suppose this might work, but more likely than not, the garbage man (er, I mean waste disposal technician) will simply figure you are a moron for taking an empty trash can to the street.

2) Add a Sign to the Can
Let's imagine that you place a sign on the can that says "this can is trash". What exactly do you mean? The can itself is trash, or the items contained within it are trash? Maybe you have multiple cans, each labeled "this can is trash", "this can is recycling", or "this can is lawn debris". Once again, the collecting of the can itself as trash is placed into doubt by the ambiguity of the sign. A sign that clearly states what you intend would have to be something like: "This can is trash. And by that I mean the can itself (not the contents) is trash and should be collected." Methinks a sign that long won't be read. Again, you'll be thought a moron.

3) Cut the Can up into Little Pieces
Curb-side trash cans are designed to be durable and resist breakage. Even with my sawzall, it would take considerable effort to render a can into small enough pieces to put them into another can. Sounds a little too much like work o me.

4) Put it into a Bigger Can
While this is the primary method of disposing of lesser containers, it only works a few times before you end up with a trash can the size of the Space Shuttle External Tank. Not practical at all.

5) Take it to The Dump
Like I'm going to put a nasty trash can in my car and take a day off from work so I can go to the dump during their convenient weekday working hour.

6) Move and Leave the Old Can Behind
While expensive, it certainly has it benefits. Let somebody else deal with it, along with that leak in the basement. You just have to make sure that the movers don't pack it and take it to the new place.

As you can probably see, this is a problem that has vexed me for some time now. Our current trash can is starting to show its age, but The Wife has yet to recognize the dilemma in which we shall shortly find ourselves.

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: III

2008-08-26T11:19:00.013-04:00

On the Seeing of Actual Animals

We took The Kid to the zoo for the first time a few weekends ago. And a good time was had by all. It was decided that the Richmond Zoo would be just the thing, what with the Grandparents living not so far away from there. And the weather was nice too. The mid-80s at noon in Richmond in August is just about unheard of. But we weren't complaining.

What did we see? There were small monkeys (or "gunkeys" as The Kid calls them).

There were big monkeys*.

there were chickens

Chickens which needed to be chased, no less.

We also saw gators, tigers, camels, bears, zebras, and assorted other creatures. All behind fences that seemed to be exactly at the Kid's eye level. Not that she wasn't able to adapt.

But best of all, The Kid got to see her grandparents.

* OK, so orangutans aren't technically monkeys. They're great apes, but until I can get The Kid to day "hominidae", they'll be monkeys.

Something old, Something not old

2008-08-18T20:11:00.004-04:00

In the film "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", there is a scene where King Arthur happens across a 37 year-old peasant working in the fields. The king mistakes him for an old woman.

"I'm 37. I'm not old." protests the peasant.

So I guess 38 is old?

That sucks, but at least I don't look like a woman.

On a happier note, here's my friend who just happens to be turning 3 on the very same day I turn 38.

How cool is that?

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: II

2008-08-12T12:04:00.006-04:00

Part II: On the Consuming of Bugs

A few evenings ago, around twilight, we noticed some strange looking birds flitting around our back yard. Upon closer inspection, we realized that they're not birds at all. They were beautiful, swooping, feeding bats.

I like bats. Not enough to keep them as pets (ewwwww), but I appreciate what the can do for me. Anything that can eat its weight in mosquitoes every night is A-OK in my book. These winged mammalian hunters of the night, using an internal echolocation system that could put some of the most sophisticated military target tracking radars to shame. At once simple and complex, they are magnificent denizens of the night sky.

I immediately began to ponder ways to encourage these nocturnal visitors. I plan on some bat boxes, but need to figure out what kinds of bats they are. I also want to try and attract more food for them, but that would mean deliberately encouraging mosquitoes to come into my yard. Not a thrilling prospect.

Anyone got any ideas?

PS: I'm fully aware that bats are natural vectors for any number of zoonotic pathogens. Nasty ones too. I don't want to pet them, just encourage them to eat as many mosquitoes as they can.

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: 1

2008-08-12T11:30:00.009-04:00

Lots of animal activity of late around here. Not really sure what that's all about.

Part I: Wherein the Cat Earns Her Keep.

Last Friday, I left for work as usual, with my lovely wife still abed and enjoying her last few moments of shut-eye before greeting the day.

At about 6:15, she heard the Cat making unusual mewing and chirping noises. This usually means that she's not feeling well (about to hork up a hairball), or she's got something cornered. The noise subsided after a few minutes, and my wife went back to sleep.

A few minutes after that, the Cat (as is her wont) jumped up onto the bed. Normally, she finds a nice spot on which to curl up for an early morning nap, but on this day she made straight for the Wife's head. She usually does this when she's hungry and either wants you to wake up and feed her, or at least get up and watch her eat. She's a strange cat, that way.

But not today. With the Cat's face a mere inches from my hers, my Lovely Bride slowly opened her tired eyes to find our Cat staring back at her. With a (mostly) uninjured mouse in it's mouth. Apparently this is not my wife's preferred way to wake up.

Of course, when I heard this story, I immediately asked if the Cat was sufficiently praised for her work, and was told that yes, praise was lavished upon the Cat, along with some pleadings that should a rodent be captured in the future please wait until a decent hour before announcing it and for heaven's sake don't bring it into the bed.

With a shoe box in hand, the Wife dutifully collected the (mostly) uninjured mouse and deposited him (or her) back into the wild from whence it came. Seeing as it's the second time the little fella has made it into the house and been captured, I'm sure we'll see it again.

Happy Birthday!

2008-07-27T06:34:00.004-04:00

Happy Birthday AM!

I was looking for a photo of my sister to post, and realized that I don't have a recent photo of her in digital format. I do have one from a few years ago. It's a bit out of focus, but aren't we all sometimes?

In any case, here's to you.

She's got three terrific kids, a great husband, and couldn't be a better sibling. You never cease to inpsire us. I hope your birthday is a good one.

More, please

2008-07-25T11:14:00.005-04:00

Looks like the 232 year-old Brass Ceiling has been shattered.

The U.S. Senate has confirmed the appointment of Lt. Gen. Ann E. Dunwoody to the grade of four-star general.

Like I've said before, I envision a world where my daughter won't have the opportunity to be the first woman to do anything. One more down, many more to go.

Mildly Amusing

2008-07-25T08:00:00.003-04:00

So, I was walking through a cube-farm over at the Pentagon the other day, and I saw this hanging on someone's wall. It made me giggle, so I thought I'd share...

Happy Birthday

2008-07-23T10:29:00.003-04:00

To quite possibly the best female vocalist recording today.

Iffin you haven't heard her recording of "Evermore" from the Sandra Boynton album "Dog Train", do yourself a favor and listen to it here. If it doesn't make you just a little bit weepy, I think you may be a Cylon.

Happy 37th to Alison Krauss.

Your Wish is my Command

2008-07-23T09:31:00.005-04:00

Had a request for more Kid pics, so here's a few choice ones from the past couple of weeks...

Yo Yo Yo! Kiddo in the Hizzouse...

"How do I get my hair so wavy? By applying a lot of applesauce and chewed-up pasta, of course..."

Today I am happy. For that I shall smile.

Outnumbered

2008-07-11T09:18:00.003-04:00

My mother-in-law is visiting for a few days to spend some time with her granddaughter. It's nice to have her around to give us a hand and just enjoy her company.

There's only one small problem. It's Space Week on the Science Channel, and I'm in the gender minority. Its 3 to 1 (4 to 1 if you count the cat), and none of them seem much interested in 3-4 hours of high definition rocket pr0n every night. I can't think of anything I'd rather watch than a 2 hour documentary on the development of the NASA space suit, but the lovely ladies in my house seem to feel otherwise.

Bound to Happen

2008-07-08T12:43:00.008-04:00

14 months and 2 weeks in, The Kid got sick for the first time. Oh sure, she'd had the sniffles and such before, but last week was different. On Wednesay morning she was a little out of sorts, and by mid-afternoon her temperature was 105 and she wasn't eating. It was all she could do just to stay awake.

A quick trip to the doc that afternoon in order to rule out anything serious (it wasn't) and then back home to take care of her.

The Kid is usually pretty peppy and active (as you can see in the video below) but on Wednesday evening, she was a blob. A very warm blob, but still more or less inert.

Thursday morning broke but her fever didn't. I stayed home to be with her, and she spent the entire day laying with me on the sofa. She mostly cat-napped (with our actual cat napping next to her) for 20-30 minutes at a time, and spent her awake time just staring into space. She wouldn't eat much, but was drinking enough to keep hydrated. She didn't ever really cry, and only whined occasionally as if to say "I just wish this was over. I really want to play."

Friday morning was much better. She was (almost) back to her old self. She was talking again, and telling us what noises animals make. Ducks say "GACK! GACK! GACK!" in case you didn't know.

On Saturday she was well enough to go and spend the weekend with her grandparents, for which The Wife and I were especially grateful. It gave us the opportunity to do some 4-handed housework and spend some time with friends (and The Kid's Godparents) who had just returned from a 6-week vacation in England, Ireland and Scotland.

She's still catching up on her sleep, but it's over for now. Which is nice...

Shake your bootie!

2008-07-01T20:45:00.003-04:00

So The Girl gets just a little bit carried away with the tunes these days. We thought the grandparents might enjoy a boogie dance.

Fun in the Sun

2008-06-27T08:39:00.007-04:00

We're having so much fun this week it isn't even funny.

We sat on the beach.

We played in the pool

It was also a week of firsts for The Kid. In addition to the above activities, she had her first piece of Krispy Kreme donut, and her first piece of potato chip. All this with another tooth (her seventh) that showed up yesterday.

We'll close with a quick video of a nice stroll on the beach.

The Beach

2008-06-23T08:36:00.005-04:00

Like the elves at the end of the Third Age in middle earth, every summer we feel an irresistible pull towards the shore.

On Saturday morning, we packed up the car, pointed southeast and drove. We arrived at the Wife's family's country estate that afternoon for an evening with the Kid's aunt and uncle. The men-folk grilled an enormous hunk of beef, and the women watched the Kid. A late-day thunderstorm threatened to wash us out, but luckily the only casualties were 2 southern pines by the driveway. A few well-placed cuts with the chain saw and a quick tractor pull made short work of the debris.

We took our leave mid-day on Sunday and arrived in Nags Head, NC that afternoon. I have been making this annual trip with the same group of folks for the past 8 years. We have a crew of 19 this year, sharing a house and parenting duties, all while enjoying the sun, sand and surf.

I'll have some pics of all the young-uns up soon. Right now I'm going to take a nap...

Father's Day

2008-06-17T14:37:00.004-04:00

How great was my father's day?

It was that good...

I'm a-walkin'

2008-05-27T20:46:00.005-04:00

Yesiree.

Three weeks ago, her walking consisted of taking 2 or 3 steps and sitting down. Now she's completely bi-pedal.

And since you can't really see how cute she is in the video above, here's a picture we took at the park last weekend.

Memorial Day - Part II

2008-05-26T12:19:00.004-04:00

My grandfather, a retired chief, lives in a small town in rural Rhode Island. Ever since Noah was a midshipman, he has been participating in the town's Memorial Day parade. To this day, the parade is pure Americana. There are boy scouts, fire trucks, the local marching band, and or course all the local vets turn up. Judging by the number of people watching along the parade route, its safe to assume that pretty much everyone in town attends.

In 2004, I had the distinct privilege to march in that parade alongside my grandfather, my father, my brother-in-law.

It was quite possibly the best day I've ever spent in uniform.

Memorial Day - Part I

2008-05-26T11:26:00.010-04:00

2 Weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit the Cambridge American Cemetery in England. The site was established in 1943 on 30.5 acres of land donated by the University of Cambridge, and is the only WWII American Cemetery in Great Britain. Most of those buried or memorialized there were USAAF aircrew or those lost on the convoys across the Atlantic. More detailed specifics can be found here.

One of the most awe-inspiring elements was a large map of the UK carved into the side of the chapel. On it were marks indicating an American base, be it Army, Air Force or Navy that was used during the course of the second world war.

The interior of the chapel was equally impressive with a ceiling mosaic depicting angels escorting bombers and fighters, along with the following inscription:

IN PROUD AND GRATEFUL MEMORY OF THOSE MEN OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY AIR FORCE WHO FROM THESE FRIENDLY ISLES FLEW THEIR FINAL FLIGHT AND MET THEIR GOD. THEY KNEW NOT THE HOUR THE DAY NOR THE MANNER OF THEIR PASSING. WHEN FAR FROM HOME THEY WERE CALLED TO JOIN THAT HERIOIC BAND OF AIRMEN WHO HAD GONE BEFORE. MAY THEY REST IN PEACE.

There are 3,812 marked graves, but because so many of those lost were aircrew, and sailors, their remains were never recovered. To honor them, the cemetery contains a 472 foot limestone wall with the names of 5,126 listed as missing, lost, or buried at sea. Along the wall are statues depicting a soldier, a sailor, an airman, and a coast guardsman.

The cemetery proper was laid out in a semi-circle with the grave markers forming spokes radiating out from a central flagpole.

It was a humbling experience to walk among those crosses and stars, and to read the names etched onto them. They were not all that different from you and me, except they gave their lives for something far bigger than themselves.

UK Memories

2008-05-22T07:47:00.004-04:00

So I’ve been back for a few days now, and have gotten back into the swing of things at home and the office. Only 1500 emails in my inbox when I went back in. That’s what I spent all day Monday doing, if you were interested.

All in all, it was a good trip. Made some new friends, and had a pretty good time. I missed my family terribly, tho. I did what all dads do when they get to the BOQ on the first day of a deployment, det, or TDY assignment: put pictures of the wife and kid in the mirror.

The university town of Cambridge was just down the road from our base, so we spent quite a few nights (OK, almost every night) there sampling the local brewer’s wares. You can call it un-American, but there’s something to be said for warm, flat beer. Especially if it’s good beer. And although much maligned, British food isn’t so bad, as long as it’s Indian, Algerian, Thai, or some other ethnic import. Aside from Fish and Chips or Bangers and Mash, most of the native cuisine is pretty unpalatable. This coming from a guy who will eat just about anything.

Made it into London on Saturday. Saw St. Paul’s cathedral (where Nelson and Wellington are entombed) as well as the Imperial War Museum. Coming from a country where anything over 200 years old is considered “ancient”, being in a city where 500 year old buildings are still in use was a bit astonishing.

Lastly, on a familial note, a bit about a small village a few miles down the road from the base where we stayed. The area of England where we were based is called East Anglia, and is a lot like Nebraska. It’s mostly farmland with a few villages here and there. Why do I mention this? The village is named Ellington. Unfortunately, the only picture I have of it was from the car as we were driving on the A14.

Home

2008-05-18T06:21:00.003-04:00

Back from the UK. Got up at 0300 (England time), flew home, and went to bed at 2200 eastern time. If you do the time-zone math, you'll realize that yesterday was an awfully busy 24 hours, and I was awake for all of them.
The trip was good. Saw lots of neat stuff (pics soon) and met some good people.
This was my first "operational" 2 weeks in a few years (the last 2 were schools), so I had the opportunity to spend time with some of the young folks in the service of our nation. These young kids (many under the age of 20) impressed me yet again with their skill and dedication. It happens every time, but it gets me every time. I am immensely proud to serve with all of them.

Greetings from Jolly Olde

2008-05-07T15:56:00.000-04:00

I have to apologize (yet again) for not posting very often, but things has been pretty busy for me lately. The 26th was the kid’s first birthday party. A good time was had by all. On Tuesday morning of the following week, I left for Marco Island Florida for a computer security conference that lasted until Thursday. That got me home with enough time to pack for 2 weeks in the U.K.

Left DC last Saturday night and arrived on Sunday morning. A quick drive up the A1 got us to the picturesque village of Alconbury, in the heart of England. This is where most of the Mighty 8th Air Force was based during the War. The airfield where we are staying was home to the first B-24 Liberator squadron based in England, and the base where we are working was home to the first B-17 to complete 25 missions.

I miss the Wife and Kid, but the first thing I did when I got here was to put pictures in the mirror, so I get to see them every morning and every night.

I’ll have more to post when I get back (including pictures). The Wi-Fi here is sorry, so I have limited connectivity. I know, wah, wah, wah. Life is so hard here. On TDY in the UK, the weather is absolutely perfect (sunny and 75 every day so far), and my main complaint is that the Wi-Fi at the BOQ is slow. We should all have it this rough.

Did I mention the per diem?

Better not rub it in…

Hi. I’m your Daddy

2008-04-18T10:55:00.012-04:00

I don’t think that there is anything that can prepare you for the feeling of seeing and holding your child for the first time. She was so small, helpless, and so frighteningly quiet. There was no screaming like in the movies. She just looked around.

There were so many different feelings I think my brain gave up on trying to process and interpret them. I was kind of numb, actually.

The docs let me cut the cord. It was already cut, so my snip-snip was only ceremonial. It was good, though, and I didn’t feel light-headed in the least. Yay me!

After an hour or so in the recovery room, we went back to the room where we would spend the next few days. Lilly and the Toolbox had arrived while we were in recovery, moved all of our stuff to the new room. My folks arrived a short time later. There were hugs all around, and lots of proud looks from the grandfathers. The grandmothers took turns holding the little bundle of joy. Caroline’s husband arrived with their daughter Julianna (who had been a “practice baby” for us), as well as the The Kid’s Godparents. The Kid was the center of attention, but didn’t realize it.

The hospital had Wi-Fi, and I had my laptop, so I was able to get the word out via email to all and sundry, including the good folks over at The Flight Deck.

By 10 that evening, we were alone with the Kid for the first time. We looked at her, and looked at each other, and wondered what we had gotten ourselves into. We tried to sleep, but woke up every hour or so asking “Is she OK? She’s not making any noise.” It turns out that’s pretty normal for the first day or so.

For the next 2 days, there was a steady stream of health-care professionals dropping by, and by Wednesday we were cleared to go home.

Next up: The Days Begin to Blur

It Wasn't Me

2008-04-17T08:45:00.000-04:00

I swear that I have never gone by the name Bassas Jorge Puigdollers .

Honest.

Drat

2008-04-11T11:42:00.002-04:00

This kind of sucks, but the Wife will be relieved.

What Do You Mean By "Problem?"

2008-04-10T14:34:00.005-04:00

We were now settled into the delivery room, awaiting what promised to be a long night. It was one of those things that no matter how much research one does, you just can’t really prepare yourself enough. My mind was constantly replaying Bill Cosby’s famous labor routine, punctuated with Carol Burnett reminding me that the pain of giving birth was akin to pulling your bottom lip over your head. Sounds like a good time to me…

The doc arrived, an IV inserted (I didn’t watch), wires and monitoring equipment attached, and the pitocin drip began.

The first few contractions were mild. They were for me, anyway. So far, so good.

After about half an hour, the doc took a look at the fetal heart monitor thingie and did not like what she saw. Not one bit. She mentioned something about “late decels”. The Kid’s heart rate dropped after every contraction. In medical lingo, the technical term is “not good”. I wish I could remember what exactly she said to us, but the gist of it was, “You can continue with natural childbirth and the baby won’t make it or we can do a c-section. What’ll it be?” Not really a choice there, was it? I can’t say that either of us really considered that there was an option in her statement. It was worded like there was an option, but we knew there wasn’t. “Let’s do the c-section.” we said. “When will we do it?” “Now” was the gently urgent reply.

I was handed a set of scrubs and grabbed the camera. The Wife called our friend and neighbor Caroline, who happened to be a labor and delivery nurse at the hospital. She was off that day, but offered to be with us should come to a c-section. We had discussed it previously, and decided that it might be a good idea to have a close friend amongst the medical staff. Caroline was just about to put her own baby down for the night, but her dad came over to watch the baby while Caroline came to the hospital.

We also called the grandparents to-be and told them that our planned evening of labor was not going to happen, and that the kid would be arriving in a few minutes. Best laid plans and all...

Dressed and domed and ready to go, we wheeled into the OR. Caroline came in a few minutes later. The surgical team gave us a quick briefing, they put up the drapes, and it began. I think it probably took 5 minutes at that point. Just as I was asking the Wife if she could tell what was going on, we heard these two statements in quick succession:
“It’s got brown hair” followed almost immediately by “It’s a girl.”

Was that it? It’s only 6:35. I thought this was supposed to be a long drawn out affair…

Next up: “Hi. I’m your daddy.”

I Am Such a Dork

2008-04-10T09:33:00.003-04:00

Part 2 is coming later today or tomorrow, I promise, but yesterday was a fairly significant anniversary that I missed. On April 9, 1959, NASA announced the 7 test pilots selected for Project Mercury. Scott Carpenter, Gordon Cooper, John Glenn, Virgil Grissom, Wally Shirra, Alan Shepard, and Deke Slayton were selected out of an original pool of 69 military test pilots.

Of those 7, I actually met one of them.

It was sometime back in the mid 90s, so I was in my mid 20s. I was flying back from somewhere in the mid-west and had a connecting flight Columbus, OH back to DC. It was an evening flight, getting back home fairly late. When I boarded the plane, it was pretty much just me and an older couple sitting across the aisle. I thought the gentleman looked familiar, but I wasn’t entirely sure.

The flight was quick, and when we got off the plane in DC, the terminals were almost deserted. The three of us were walking back towards the main terminal building when I turned to the guy, smiled and said “Excuse me sir, but are you John Glenn?”

“Why, yes I am.”

This is about the time that the geek circuit breaker in my head blew. This safety device normally keeps my inner nerd in check, but extraordinary circumstances can cause it to fail in a most spectacular fashion.

“WOW,” I just about screamed. “I’ve never met a real astronaut before. I’ve met plenty of pilots, but never a real astronaut!” I swear on all that I hold dear that I said that with the same tone, inflection, and speed as an 8 year-old boy meeting Spiderman. My voice was at last half an octave higher and twice as fast as I normally speak.

“So, are you from Ohio?” was his reply, which I thought an odd one at the time.

Those readers who are students of the American political scene of the past 40 years may have heard the John Glenn did some stuff after he left NASA in 1964. Had a whole different career, even. Of course I knew that, but that damned geek circuit overrides all the other ones.

“Nah. I’m just coming home from [wherever-I-was]. It was a connecting flight.” This was about the time he lost interest in the conversation. Not that I blame him. It was late, and here’s this mildly excitable dork who isn’t a constituent, so what’s the upside of talking to him.

I also spoke to his wife, Annie, who was charming and gracious. I said I thought it must have been difficult to be an astronaut’s wife. She said it was, but shrugged it off in sort of an “aw shucks” kind of way that was just delightful. I asked her if she thought the movie The Right Stuff did a good job portraying the two of them, and she said it did, except for that “nonsense” about him humming and singing during re-entry from his flight. He is a professional, and had plenty to do other than hum.

It wasn’t until I was home (or maybe the next day) that the breaker re-set and I realized that he was a U.S. Senator, too. Geez. I gotta up the amps on that thing.

1 Year On (Almost)

2008-04-08T13:31:00.006-04:00

With the run-up to the Kid’s first birthday fully underway, I thought this would be a good time to reflect on the past 12 months.

Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Kid’s due date had officially passed, and the Wife was anxious (understatement) to get it over with. The nursery was ready for the arrival, with all the equipment laid out in a manner that would make a NASCAR garage boss proud. The go-bags were packed and placed by the front door, and we waited for things to get going. A walk around the Severn River Trade School seemed like it might do the trick. It was a beautiful day, but no luck in bringing on labor.

Monday, April 23, 2007
I went to work as usual, and the Wife had an appointment with the doc. The doc took the decision that an induction was now in order, scheduled for that afternoon. It was to be a 4 pm check-in as I recall. I phoned my boss (who had her first baby the previous November) and let her know what was going on. Her response was something like “What the heck are you still doing at work? Get going!” I complied. Was I excited? Yup. Was I nervous? You bet your sweet bippy.

I got home and we made sure everything was ready home-wise. It was. The grandparents were phoned, and the current situation was explained. The Wife’s parents (Lilly and the Toolbox) made preparations for the 3 hour drive and planned to arrive sometime after 6 that evening. My parents are only about an hour away, so they said that they would have their phones handy. We fully anticipated a labor duration of at least several hours, so we’d be able to give fair warning.

At about 3:30, we left home with all of the accoutrements we packed; digital camera, tripod, iPod, laptop, snacks, comfy clothes, toiletries, cell phones, battery chargers, books, and games. Got to the hospital and checked in, which was about as complicated as checking into a Holiday Inn (no kidding). We were taken to the room, where we un-packed and readied ourselves mentally, physically, and spiritually. This was going to happen. It was real, there was no turning back, and by the next day, our lives would be different. The only thing we didn’t know was how different…

Next episode: What do you mean by “problem”?

Alignment

2008-03-27T08:45:00.005-04:00

Every so often, the cosmic tumblers fall into place, and you end up in a position to see something pretty nifty.

Last night, at 2027, I happened to be outside, facing south. There were few if any clouds. I looked up and saw a bright light streaking across the night sky.

Was it a bird? Was it a plane? Was it Superman?

Nope. The dot in question was the International Space Station. The local evening news had earlier mentioned it would be visible, but I had completely forgotten about it. There it was, a mere 185 miles away, plugging along at about 17,000 miles per hour. Since it had not yet crossed the terminator, it was still in daylight while we were well past sunset, thus illuminating it for us to see easily. Even the wife, who is not easily awed by things scientific, was duly impressed. All this on Leonard Nimoy's birthday, no less. He's sort of the patron saint of geeks and nerds, so it seemed fitting. For a brief fleeting moment, I thought about getting The Kid out of bed to see it. Unlike most ideas that seem good at the time but later turn out to be bad ones, this one seemed bad from the start. The kid will have her fill of science museums and a pilgrimage to the Kennedy Space Center later.

When was the last time I saw something like that? Glad you asked. Musta been sometime in the mid 80's. Dad and I were doing a spot of trout fishing on Douthat Lake in the mountains of Virginia. Evening had fallen (or maybe it was really early morning) and again, a bright dot hurtled from horizon to horizon in about 2 minutes. Must have been either Mir or the shuttle. I seem to recall thinking that they were both up at the time. When I think about that now, I realize that I really did have my whole life in front of me. I could have been an astronaut if I had wanted it bad enough, but I didn't. Catching dinner was my immediate task at hand, and other pursuits would distract me from becoming a star voyager. Heck, we were raised believing that pretty much anyone could go into space by 2001. I'd be an old man of 31 by then. Why go through the hassle?

Now here I am, earth-bound and not regretting a thing. The sensation that would accompany one's ability to cover the entire earth with an outstretched thumb would pale in comparison to the smile on my daughter's face when she sees me coming home through the front door.

Bah. Space-schmace. Keep it.* I have love, and sometimes trout for dinner.

*Of course, if some of you feel the urge to pony up a few hundred grand for me to take a Virgin Galactic sub-orbital flight, I'm all for it.

Happiness

2008-03-23T21:25:00.005-04:00

I think I found a picture that best defines the word "happy".

We spent Saturday night with a bunch of friends for an annual get-together and The Kid had the time of her life. Come to think of it, the Wife and I did too.

I spent a goodly portion of Sunday cleaning up the back yard. We have a pretty small yard, but there are about 30 Liquidambar styraciflua trees. In case you're unfamiliar with this particular fauna, they're known in the virnacular as sweetgum trees. They provide wonderful shade in the summer, but there is a downside. They have seed pods. Lots and lots of seed pods. They're about an inch across, and these trees drop loads of them.

How many do they drop? Well, this morning I raked up 8 trash bags' worth of these things. 8 thirty gallon trash bags. Still, that's not the worst it's ever been. Last year, I filled up 15 trash bags in one day. I had to use a snow shovel to scoop them up.

The Kid makes me happy. Sweetgum trees, not so much.

Happy Anniversary Baby

2008-03-09T09:26:00.003-04:00

Got you on my miiind…

5 years on. March 8th 2003 really was magical. I think about it every day.

I wouldn’t change anything from the past 5 years.

Ugh

2008-03-07T09:49:00.005-05:00

I just received the first of what promises to be many emails asking if I want to join someone’s “brackets”. If you’re one of those people, let me save you some time and let you know not to bother.

I find few things less interesting than the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, aka “March Madness”. I like most sports just fine. All except college basketball, that is. I think it’s because I have the uncanny ability (for a guy, anyway) to watch a game, enjoy it, and when it’s over, LET IT GO. I do not feel compelled in any way to spend the next 24 to 48 hours of my life rehashing every aspect of the game, much less getting emotionally involved in the outcome.

I work with guys (and I’m not kidding) who can tell you who the 7th round draft pick was for the Seattle Supersonics in 1998, where he went to college, and what his major stats are. Name pretty much any team, and at least one of these guys can give you a full-on 6 hour rant worthy of any competent sports radio guy. God forbid that someone has a differing opinion. Anyone Washingtonian reading this will probably understand why I usually take the day off following a Redskins – Cowboys game.

March Madness goes on so long, with so many games, that I just can’t justify devoting that kind of time to it. I suspect that March Madness taints all college basketball for me. I have a life, and I’m not going to spend a significant portion of it caring about how well a college basketball team does.

So when I get that email, this tends to be my response:

Recovery

2008-03-05T10:13:00.003-05:00

Sorry it's been a while. I was a tad under the weather this past week. The Kid brought a case of the sniffles into our humble abode. While she was only moderately phased by it, the virus in question grabbed my normally superhuman immune system by the scruff of the neck and kicked it repeatedly in the groin until it lay whimpering on the metaphorical floor.
I didn't help matters by ignoring the symptoms and pushing myself too hard all weekend until it was far too late. By Monday, it was all I could do to get out of bed and onto the sofa.

Having said that, The Kid is making some fairly dramatic and rapid developmental advancements. She can now crawl with ease, and pull herself up into a standing position using tables, chairs, and on one warm day recently, my leg hair. She is even capable of standing un-assisted for several seconds at a time. Less than a week ago, she could do none of these things. She even danced for the first time, along with some music on the TV. We got a short snippet of that on video, which I hope to post soon.

The creator of Dungeons and Dragons, Gary Gygax, died the other day, and the 14 year-old nerd part of me is saddened by that. It reminded me of that terrific Tom Hanks made for TV movie Mazes and Monsters. Tom plays a kid who gets way into a game just like D&D, and can no longer separate fantasy from reality. I think he even ends up stabbing a friend because he thinks that the friend is a goblin or something. Apparently that was a concern at the time. Would that our modern child-rearing concerns were as mundane...

Its a Riddle

2008-02-25T15:08:00.006-05:00

Thirty white horses on a red hill,
First they champ,
Then they stamp,
Then they stand still.
-J.R.R. Tolkien "The Hobbit"

But we has only two, my precious.