06/04/05
Around noon Train Boy asked me if we could make a model. “Dad could we go downstairs and pick out a model?” Not “Could we go to a store and get a model” but, “Could we go downstairs and pick out a model.” His little question lets you know I’ve got quite a stock of them. I have a wall of them actually.
I was delighted he’d asked, and hoped I’d be able to help him build one with my impaired vision. He passed on all the big kits; he knew they were too much to do. “How about those models?” Tanks. Possible, but a little involved. How about one of these SnapTite kits? They don’t require any glue or painting. I’ve got a Stealth Bomber and a Wart Hog in SnapTite. A-10 Wart Hog it is.
I showed him how the instructions progressed and tried to let him do as much as possible. Around 1:30 he pronounced, “It’s starting to look like an airplane and it isn’t even dark yet.” He was happy, I was happy. Until the snag.
He was trying to put on a bomb and broke the mount. It wasn’t surprising, they can be hard to do. He was so frustrated he walked off. I told him I’d glue it and do the rest of the bombs for him.
The Super Mom looked at the box and said “Hey, the box says ‘For 8 and up’ so you were doing pretty good.” She’s a wonderful woman. Then I broke a bomb myself, and it was more for him to feel better about. I got them glued in my cross-eyed way and laid the plane on it’s back. I sat on the couch while I waited for the glue to dry and fell asleep. When I woke up Super Nurse had left for work, and Train Boy had finished his model. Good for him.
Later in the evening I asked him if he was hungry. “A little bit.” Then what would you like? “I don’t know, let’s check out the kitchen.” The older he gets the more he sounds like his older sister.
His favorite, Ramen Noodles, are out of stock. How about other soups? No. How about Easy Mac? We have a winner. The only thing I do better than the Super Mom is Easy Mac. I always make it with milk.
Then it’s Mucha Lucha on the Cartoon Network and time for bed.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Saturday, June 05, 2004
Thursday, June 03, 2004
06/03/04
I am always willing to waste my time. The wife is not so willing. Today looked to me like another fine day to watch TV. She declared it was a perfect day to take a walk. She just has a need to do something healthy or ‘familyish.’
So we loaded everybody into the van- her, her sister, five kids, and me. I’m sure we were illegal, but we were bonding. On the drive to the park it felt a little cool, but that was okay, walking would be slower and warmer.
When we got to the park the first thing we did was walk through the non-petting, non-feeding, petting zoo. The kids were happy to look at the duck, chickens, pigs, donkeys, am I leaving any out? In a very short amount of time they learned the differences in how their droppings smell, and perhaps, why chicken doesn’t taste like hamburger.
When we got to the trail area Ms. Pikachu ran back to me, and with a smile, reached for my wrist and said, “Let me help you Dad.” Nothing like treating me like an old man, she was having too much fun.
Of course, once we got on a trail it was like being in a jungle. There was very little air movement. Nobody else seemed affected. Perhaps the difference was I was wearing cargo pants, and a vest over my shirt, hmm, could be. Sweat poured off me like I was in a sauna, but everybody else seemed fine. If I ever do a list of life’s rules, one of them will be, “There’s never a water-filled cactus around when you need one.”
Of course, another little problem I had was that being cross-eyed my depth perception is lousy. Walking a trail with it's ruts and roots is a royal pain.
Eventually we escaped our bonding experience. Everyone else seemed happy and
bonded. I just wanted water, and some quality time in an air-conditioned environment. When we got home I drank all the water I wanted to, and the Super Nurse put an ice pack at the base of my neck- very effective.
The rest of my day was spent in front of the TV- what a waste.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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I am always willing to waste my time. The wife is not so willing. Today looked to me like another fine day to watch TV. She declared it was a perfect day to take a walk. She just has a need to do something healthy or ‘familyish.’
So we loaded everybody into the van- her, her sister, five kids, and me. I’m sure we were illegal, but we were bonding. On the drive to the park it felt a little cool, but that was okay, walking would be slower and warmer.
When we got to the park the first thing we did was walk through the non-petting, non-feeding, petting zoo. The kids were happy to look at the duck, chickens, pigs, donkeys, am I leaving any out? In a very short amount of time they learned the differences in how their droppings smell, and perhaps, why chicken doesn’t taste like hamburger.
When we got to the trail area Ms. Pikachu ran back to me, and with a smile, reached for my wrist and said, “Let me help you Dad.” Nothing like treating me like an old man, she was having too much fun.
Of course, once we got on a trail it was like being in a jungle. There was very little air movement. Nobody else seemed affected. Perhaps the difference was I was wearing cargo pants, and a vest over my shirt, hmm, could be. Sweat poured off me like I was in a sauna, but everybody else seemed fine. If I ever do a list of life’s rules, one of them will be, “There’s never a water-filled cactus around when you need one.”
Of course, another little problem I had was that being cross-eyed my depth perception is lousy. Walking a trail with it's ruts and roots is a royal pain.
Eventually we escaped our bonding experience. Everyone else seemed happy and
bonded. I just wanted water, and some quality time in an air-conditioned environment. When we got home I drank all the water I wanted to, and the Super Nurse put an ice pack at the base of my neck- very effective.
The rest of my day was spent in front of the TV- what a waste.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Did the U of Ia thing. The radiologist things the gamma knife is a go. So on June 8, I report back to have it done. I hope it works. If it does I can stop taking all the medication to stop the pain, and I won’t be dizzy from the side effects. Hopefully, the ear noises will stop too. That still doesn’t get me my right eye back though.
The Super Nurse thinks a muscle can be shortened to deal with it. We’ll see.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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The Super Nurse thinks a muscle can be shortened to deal with it. We’ll see.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Wednesday, May 26, 2004
05/26
We went to the circus. Originally we had first-row tickets. However, the Super Wife came to realize that Ms. Pikachu had a band concert at the same time, so she exchanged them for the next day and it cost us, whoa, whoa, yea, it cost us- third row.
We got there shortly after it started, what else did you expect? There were people occupying our seats. Since they were sure they belonged there, some variant of squatter’s rights apparently, we had an usher…usher them.
The Home Town Edition of the Greatest Show On Earth is a one-ring show. That’s okay really. The three-ring editions can be a little overwhelming. There were the mandatory elephants, horses, trapeze artists, clowns, and dogs.
There was a strength act named, amazingly enough, ‘Hercules.’ Strength acts never get me to excited, but they seem to be a great hit with guys whose greatest acclamation is “four-wheelin’ man!’ Or maybe it was his two cute assistants with their skirts slit up to there. I did my best to remain gentlemanly.
Hercules did have some audience participation. One of the guys out of the audience was first made to stand in front of a cannon before it fired, as though he was going to catch the cannon ball. I thought he could have had a little fun with it, turned sideways, and opened his mouth as though he could catch a cannon ball in his teeth.
The kids had popcorn and snowcones. Right there you know it was a successful show. Afterwards I asked the kids what they liked the most. The dogs. All the money put into that show and the kids still love the dogs. At least there are adults there that took the kids that go, “Now there’s some overhead.” Which is to say the real talent is screwed, but that’s nothing new.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
We went to the circus. Originally we had first-row tickets. However, the Super Wife came to realize that Ms. Pikachu had a band concert at the same time, so she exchanged them for the next day and it cost us, whoa, whoa, yea, it cost us- third row.
We got there shortly after it started, what else did you expect? There were people occupying our seats. Since they were sure they belonged there, some variant of squatter’s rights apparently, we had an usher…usher them.
The Home Town Edition of the Greatest Show On Earth is a one-ring show. That’s okay really. The three-ring editions can be a little overwhelming. There were the mandatory elephants, horses, trapeze artists, clowns, and dogs.
There was a strength act named, amazingly enough, ‘Hercules.’ Strength acts never get me to excited, but they seem to be a great hit with guys whose greatest acclamation is “four-wheelin’ man!’ Or maybe it was his two cute assistants with their skirts slit up to there. I did my best to remain gentlemanly.
Hercules did have some audience participation. One of the guys out of the audience was first made to stand in front of a cannon before it fired, as though he was going to catch the cannon ball. I thought he could have had a little fun with it, turned sideways, and opened his mouth as though he could catch a cannon ball in his teeth.
The kids had popcorn and snowcones. Right there you know it was a successful show. Afterwards I asked the kids what they liked the most. The dogs. All the money put into that show and the kids still love the dogs. At least there are adults there that took the kids that go, “Now there’s some overhead.” Which is to say the real talent is screwed, but that’s nothing new.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Monday, May 24, 2004
05/24/04
It is 5:30 in the morning and I can’t go to sleep, might as well blog and catch up a little. Talk about bad habits. Bad habits, and my hands shake when I type. It’s a side-effect of the meds. Thank God for spell-checkers and a wife that doesn’t mind proofing.
7:30
The wife asks if I was up all night. No I wasn’t, I went to bed, tossed and turned, groped her a little, gave up and got out of bed. I did not tell her the part about groping. She then asks, “Is it possible you’ve gotten your days and nights switched around?” Maybe, and is it possible you’ve gotten your groped and not-groped switched around? You don’t seem to remember.
I’ve done a few posts for the last few days.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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It is 5:30 in the morning and I can’t go to sleep, might as well blog and catch up a little. Talk about bad habits. Bad habits, and my hands shake when I type. It’s a side-effect of the meds. Thank God for spell-checkers and a wife that doesn’t mind proofing.
7:30
The wife asks if I was up all night. No I wasn’t, I went to bed, tossed and turned, groped her a little, gave up and got out of bed. I did not tell her the part about groping. She then asks, “Is it possible you’ve gotten your days and nights switched around?” Maybe, and is it possible you’ve gotten your groped and not-groped switched around? You don’t seem to remember.
I’ve done a few posts for the last few days.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Sunday, May 23, 2004
For 5/23
Yesterday, that would be Sunday 05/23, I did not wear a shirt to church, I wore a sweater because it was rather cool. As we walked towards church Ms. Pikachu said, “Pretty spiffy sweater dad.” After we sat down in a pew she leaned over, brushed her cheek on my shoulder and said, “It feels pretty spiffy too.” The day’s Secret Word was obviously ‘spiffy.’
After the service, when we got back to the van she said, “You look pretty spiffy for a guy over 40 dad.” “But you are working on that bald spot and your hair is getting thin.” We picked up some Chinese to bring home. As we got it ready she brushed her nose against my sleave and said, “There’s nothing better for wiping your nose in a hurry than your Dad’s sweater.” She enjoys tormenting me.
Meds had me tired so driving back to visit the cousins wasn’t an option. I slept all day. Train Boy woke me up around 6:00 and said he wanted a hot dog. Well that much I can do. Nuke ‘em and puke ‘em. Ms. Pikachu apparently took care of herself. I fell back asleep. That may explain why it’s 5:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Yesterday, that would be Sunday 05/23, I did not wear a shirt to church, I wore a sweater because it was rather cool. As we walked towards church Ms. Pikachu said, “Pretty spiffy sweater dad.” After we sat down in a pew she leaned over, brushed her cheek on my shoulder and said, “It feels pretty spiffy too.” The day’s Secret Word was obviously ‘spiffy.’
After the service, when we got back to the van she said, “You look pretty spiffy for a guy over 40 dad.” “But you are working on that bald spot and your hair is getting thin.” We picked up some Chinese to bring home. As we got it ready she brushed her nose against my sleave and said, “There’s nothing better for wiping your nose in a hurry than your Dad’s sweater.” She enjoys tormenting me.
Meds had me tired so driving back to visit the cousins wasn’t an option. I slept all day. Train Boy woke me up around 6:00 and said he wanted a hot dog. Well that much I can do. Nuke ‘em and puke ‘em. Ms. Pikachu apparently took care of herself. I fell back asleep. That may explain why it’s 5:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Saturday, May 22, 2004
05/22 Saturday
Another big storm passed through. The kids did not want to drive back to see their cousins if that meant me driving through the storm. I don’t know what their problem was. Dad is cross-eyed. Driving back would be blinding glare. It could be harrowing past experience. It could be we’re raising kids smart enough to survive.
The Super Wife informed me there was water in the basement from yesterday’s storm, and that we need a dehumidifier. We had one before. It lasted about ten years. If you ever get water in your basement- you need one. We hadn’t had water in the basement since we put tubes on the downspouts to lead the water further away from the house. That is neither here nor there; we need another dehumidifier NOW.
Wal-Mart would surely have them, so would Super-Target. Instead I went to K-Mart, they need the business. This makes me wonder if mercy-shopping is any kind of a trend. They had two- a smaller one, and another that seemed to move about twice as much air for another $20. I love easy decisions.
In its big, bulky box it weighed at least 35 pounds. I carried it until I picked up a few more things. Then it was apparent I really should have gotten a cart. I can’t explain why, but I’m quite averse to getting a shopping cart, it’s like a sign of weakness to me. So there I was- dragging this box with my right hand and clasping a few other things under my left arm, looking like I should be yelling “Sanctuary, Sanctuary!” Despite my horrific appearance the checker was cordial.
To tell you the truth, I wanted an I-Cee. K-Mart has that I-Cee machine as you go out, and I wanted one. All I had to do was walk over and get a cart to carry all the stuff. I could not. Don’t ask me why, I just could not. You could ask, just because you’re as obnoxious as a twelve year-old daughter, “You’re too shy to get a shopping cart?” Let’s not go there. You could persist, “You’re too vain to get a shopping card?” Dear God when will the torment end? Is it not enough that I did not get my I-Cee?
Got it home, unpacked it, plugged it in, and it has been doing a fine job. Which just goes to show that China gets some good work out of their prisoners, and there’s no reason we can’t do just as well. I feel another blog coming on. I should satisfy some I-Cee cravings first. There’s a gas station not a half-mile away that satisfies the needs of the weak-willed.
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Another big storm passed through. The kids did not want to drive back to see their cousins if that meant me driving through the storm. I don’t know what their problem was. Dad is cross-eyed. Driving back would be blinding glare. It could be harrowing past experience. It could be we’re raising kids smart enough to survive.
The Super Wife informed me there was water in the basement from yesterday’s storm, and that we need a dehumidifier. We had one before. It lasted about ten years. If you ever get water in your basement- you need one. We hadn’t had water in the basement since we put tubes on the downspouts to lead the water further away from the house. That is neither here nor there; we need another dehumidifier NOW.
Wal-Mart would surely have them, so would Super-Target. Instead I went to K-Mart, they need the business. This makes me wonder if mercy-shopping is any kind of a trend. They had two- a smaller one, and another that seemed to move about twice as much air for another $20. I love easy decisions.
In its big, bulky box it weighed at least 35 pounds. I carried it until I picked up a few more things. Then it was apparent I really should have gotten a cart. I can’t explain why, but I’m quite averse to getting a shopping cart, it’s like a sign of weakness to me. So there I was- dragging this box with my right hand and clasping a few other things under my left arm, looking like I should be yelling “Sanctuary, Sanctuary!” Despite my horrific appearance the checker was cordial.
To tell you the truth, I wanted an I-Cee. K-Mart has that I-Cee machine as you go out, and I wanted one. All I had to do was walk over and get a cart to carry all the stuff. I could not. Don’t ask me why, I just could not. You could ask, just because you’re as obnoxious as a twelve year-old daughter, “You’re too shy to get a shopping cart?” Let’s not go there. You could persist, “You’re too vain to get a shopping card?” Dear God when will the torment end? Is it not enough that I did not get my I-Cee?
Got it home, unpacked it, plugged it in, and it has been doing a fine job. Which just goes to show that China gets some good work out of their prisoners, and there’s no reason we can’t do just as well. I feel another blog coming on. I should satisfy some I-Cee cravings first. There’s a gas station not a half-mile away that satisfies the needs of the weak-willed.
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Thursday, May 20, 2004
05/20 Thursday
The planter needs some plants, so after the kids got home we went to Home Depot and picked up some plants and some other… homey stuff. The kids had a lot of fun picking flowers out.
On the way home we stopped at Hy-Vee again and picked up chinese to take home. Trainboy thinks the coolest thing is to get his food out of the little Chinese take-out boxes. Too bad being satisfied with life won’t always be so easy.
The Super Wife said, “Their Chinese is so good you don’t mind eating it two days in a row.” Okay, but let’s not try for three.
.
The planter needs some plants, so after the kids got home we went to Home Depot and picked up some plants and some other… homey stuff. The kids had a lot of fun picking flowers out.
On the way home we stopped at Hy-Vee again and picked up chinese to take home. Trainboy thinks the coolest thing is to get his food out of the little Chinese take-out boxes. Too bad being satisfied with life won’t always be so easy.
The Super Wife said, “Their Chinese is so good you don’t mind eating it two days in a row.” Okay, but let’s not try for three.
.
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
05/19 Wednesday
Given a choice of things to get for supper the kids decided they wanted Chinese. Alrighty.
Super Mom pointed out to Trainboy they were both wearing the same top, and she was wearing gray shorts while he was wearing gray pants, they almost matched. He was so excited he looked like a drum major running in place. Life is bound to get harder, so take it while you can get it.
Given a choice of things to get for supper the kids decided they wanted Chinese. Alrighty.
Super Mom pointed out to Trainboy they were both wearing the same top, and she was wearing gray shorts while he was wearing gray pants, they almost matched. He was so excited he looked like a drum major running in place. Life is bound to get harder, so take it while you can get it.
Friday, May 14, 2004
05/14
It hit me. It finally hit me. If Trainboy’s knees wouldn’t clear the handlebars- lowering the seat would make no sense because you need to keep a nice extension when pedaling. Raising the handlebar headset could work, but it that failed, just rotating the handlebars upwards would make the most sense. Sometimes my mind is soooooo slow.
So I got out the wrenches again, rotated the handlebars, and it worked great. He is one happy Trainboy. I put the training wheels back on. The sidewalk is so wide open.
Now what do we do with the bike we just bought? It’s a nice bike. The front is suspended and it didn’t cost much. The Thrifty Wife says we shall keep it. SHE HAS SPOKEN.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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It hit me. It finally hit me. If Trainboy’s knees wouldn’t clear the handlebars- lowering the seat would make no sense because you need to keep a nice extension when pedaling. Raising the handlebar headset could work, but it that failed, just rotating the handlebars upwards would make the most sense. Sometimes my mind is soooooo slow.
So I got out the wrenches again, rotated the handlebars, and it worked great. He is one happy Trainboy. I put the training wheels back on. The sidewalk is so wide open.
Now what do we do with the bike we just bought? It’s a nice bike. The front is suspended and it didn’t cost much. The Thrifty Wife says we shall keep it. SHE HAS SPOKEN.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Thursday, May 13, 2004
05/13
Went to Wal-Mart to buy Trainboy a new bike. I still can’t believe he needs a new one, he just isn’t that big. The next step up from his little one appears huge- 20 inches. This seems so not right. Not a salesperson around.
I got one down off the rack. Fortunately it had a quick-release seat. Maybe somebody figured out that the one thing that would increase sales was a quick-release seat so you can quickly see if a bike will work. I put the seat as far down as practical and call Trainboy over to try it. Apparently it will work, but I’m still not convinced.
Regardless, it is now time to decide on a color scheme. The Super Mom shows him all the different colors. He is intimidated but decides on a blue and green one.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
Went to Wal-Mart to buy Trainboy a new bike. I still can’t believe he needs a new one, he just isn’t that big. The next step up from his little one appears huge- 20 inches. This seems so not right. Not a salesperson around.
I got one down off the rack. Fortunately it had a quick-release seat. Maybe somebody figured out that the one thing that would increase sales was a quick-release seat so you can quickly see if a bike will work. I put the seat as far down as practical and call Trainboy over to try it. Apparently it will work, but I’m still not convinced.
Regardless, it is now time to decide on a color scheme. The Super Mom shows him all the different colors. He is intimidated but decides on a blue and green one.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Wednesday, May 12, 2004
05/12/2004
The Super Mom tried to get Trainboy to ride his bike. His knees kept hitting the handlebars. What can they do but call for Super Dad, disguised as mild-mannered humble dad.
So I got out a wrench and lowered the seat. Didn’t really work. Got out the allen wrenches and raised the handle-bar head. Didn’t really work either. I just can’t believe he’s outgrown that bike already.
Super Wife and I discussed it, it appears we will take a trip to a local purveyor of fine Chinese goods and see what’s available.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
The Super Mom tried to get Trainboy to ride his bike. His knees kept hitting the handlebars. What can they do but call for Super Dad, disguised as mild-mannered humble dad.
So I got out a wrench and lowered the seat. Didn’t really work. Got out the allen wrenches and raised the handle-bar head. Didn’t really work either. I just can’t believe he’s outgrown that bike already.
Super Wife and I discussed it, it appears we will take a trip to a local purveyor of fine Chinese goods and see what’s available.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
05/11/04
The Super Wife had to go to the hospital for some additional CEU’s (continuing educational units.) So I walked to Ms. Pikachu’s school to get her myself. On the way home it started to rain. Just before we got home it turned into a downpour. Life could be worse. Life could also be drier.
When we got home I went inside. It seemed the natural thing to do. Ms. Pikachu did not follow. I walked back out on the porch and there she was, under a downspout that sends the water from some of the roof and porch into the driveway. It doesn’t lead all the way to the ground, it just pours it like a waterfall from the roof of the porch onto driveway cement. She was drenched and loving it. I asked her, “Are you happy?” She started singing, “I feel good, duh, nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh, like I knew that I would…” It was funny, yet strange, to have my 12 year-old daughter answer a question with a James Brown riff. She sang about a verse.
Amused, I went inside because the Super Wife had walked to the hospital and I thought that if she wanted a ride home I’d better be by the phone. I could not just drive over there and wait for her; the place has a dozen doors with a parking garage. If somebody offered her a ride I’d miss her. Depending on the door she used I’d miss her. So I waited by the phone like a good Jewish mother. She got home on her bike. Rather beautiful for being all wet, her, not the bike.
I went to the back door to unlock it and put out some more birdseed. She put her bike away herself because she’s self-sufficient that way. While we were talking Ms. Pikachu came around laughing. She said that she had gone back under the downspout and started singing ‘I Feel Good’ again. Some people walking by gave her the weirdest looks. She loved it. It’s probably not going to get any better.
This evening the Super Wife was bushed. It was decided we’d eat at the little Italian place. On the way we dropped off two garbage bags full of toys at the Salvation Army. Two garbage bags full, and you can hardly see the difference. Somewhere along the way Ms. Pikachu got her hands on a little chicken no wider than a quarter. Size doesn’t matter when a manic attack is coming.
As we sat at our table she went nuts with the chicken. “Help me people, I can’t work this chicken alone.” She knocked the chicken over several times. “Aw, the chicken is narcoleptic.” The chicken is finally knocked upside down. Gravely, “Chicken is dead. When their feet point at the sky you know they’re dead.” She turns chicken upright. “Oh, chicken isn’t dead after all! Chicken, did you see a bright light?” Train Boy replied, "I think it saw a train." He was laughing and couldn’t control his root beer.
The kid gets more mileage out of a couple feathers than anyone I know. She’s just nuts, but it makes for an entertaining evening.
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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
The Super Wife had to go to the hospital for some additional CEU’s (continuing educational units.) So I walked to Ms. Pikachu’s school to get her myself. On the way home it started to rain. Just before we got home it turned into a downpour. Life could be worse. Life could also be drier.
When we got home I went inside. It seemed the natural thing to do. Ms. Pikachu did not follow. I walked back out on the porch and there she was, under a downspout that sends the water from some of the roof and porch into the driveway. It doesn’t lead all the way to the ground, it just pours it like a waterfall from the roof of the porch onto driveway cement. She was drenched and loving it. I asked her, “Are you happy?” She started singing, “I feel good, duh, nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh, like I knew that I would…” It was funny, yet strange, to have my 12 year-old daughter answer a question with a James Brown riff. She sang about a verse.
Amused, I went inside because the Super Wife had walked to the hospital and I thought that if she wanted a ride home I’d better be by the phone. I could not just drive over there and wait for her; the place has a dozen doors with a parking garage. If somebody offered her a ride I’d miss her. Depending on the door she used I’d miss her. So I waited by the phone like a good Jewish mother. She got home on her bike. Rather beautiful for being all wet, her, not the bike.
I went to the back door to unlock it and put out some more birdseed. She put her bike away herself because she’s self-sufficient that way. While we were talking Ms. Pikachu came around laughing. She said that she had gone back under the downspout and started singing ‘I Feel Good’ again. Some people walking by gave her the weirdest looks. She loved it. It’s probably not going to get any better.
This evening the Super Wife was bushed. It was decided we’d eat at the little Italian place. On the way we dropped off two garbage bags full of toys at the Salvation Army. Two garbage bags full, and you can hardly see the difference. Somewhere along the way Ms. Pikachu got her hands on a little chicken no wider than a quarter. Size doesn’t matter when a manic attack is coming.
As we sat at our table she went nuts with the chicken. “Help me people, I can’t work this chicken alone.” She knocked the chicken over several times. “Aw, the chicken is narcoleptic.” The chicken is finally knocked upside down. Gravely, “Chicken is dead. When their feet point at the sky you know they’re dead.” She turns chicken upright. “Oh, chicken isn’t dead after all! Chicken, did you see a bright light?” Train Boy replied, "I think it saw a train." He was laughing and couldn’t control his root beer.
The kid gets more mileage out of a couple feathers than anyone I know. She’s just nuts, but it makes for an entertaining evening.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Monday, May 10, 2004
We watched 'Secondhand Lions' with the kids. You get Michael Caine and Robert Duvall as brothers. That's worth watching a viewing right there. Supposedly they're nutty millionaires living in the middle of nowhere Texas, so a lousy mother dumps her son off with them for a few weeks so he can find out where the money is. She tells the brothers they need to show their nephew how to be a man since he doesn't have a father and it will only be for a few weeks. Then she takes off.
Apparently their idea of being a good influence is sitting on their porch with shotguns on their laps and shooting at salesmen. They get a lot of laughs with their shotguns.
And the boy also learns something about what it is to be a man.
It was a good movie. The kids enjoyed it. It wouldn't surprise me if the Super Wife buys it.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Apparently their idea of being a good influence is sitting on their porch with shotguns on their laps and shooting at salesmen. They get a lot of laughs with their shotguns.
And the boy also learns something about what it is to be a man.
It was a good movie. The kids enjoyed it. It wouldn't surprise me if the Super Wife buys it.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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05/10/04
We went to Target with the kids. Some things are absolutely predictable. After getting a few items in Health we continued on to get Ms. Pikachu some art supplies. We did not get past Toys. At least some of us didn’t get past Toys.
Train Boy believes he cannot just walk past a toy section. If he doesn’t get something we have failed to understand that he must get at least one thing anytime he goes through a toy section. Super Wife and Ms. Pikachu continued the long journey to art supplies, I stayed with Train Boy, and can that boy shop. First he checked out all the Hot Wheels, then he checked out all the LEGO’S, then it was Thomas the Tank Engine. That’s all I remember, but I know there was more. I do. I know.
After he made his final decision we headed out for the art supplies like we were driving cows to Abilene. Of course, by the time we got there they were gone. There was no alternative, Mr. Favor and Rowdie Yates hitched up our pants and kept driving all the way to Montana by way of Women’s Wear. And there we found them. It wasn’t long that I knew we should have said, “Meet you at the Target Grill Watering Hole.” Ms. Pikachu was going Trail Happy.
DaaAAaad! was her setup, followed with her fashion punch line. “Dad you wouldn’t believe some of the ugly clothes they’ve got here. This blouse is awful and it looks even worse with this ugly skirt. Here, let me hold them up in front of you. See?” “Dad, this blouse is so busy it makes you look lazy.” “Dad, this would be a two piece top with the skirt, so hold up the under piece for me, would you? Thanks” Super Wife did not help when she said, “That looks good on you.”
“Dad, I’m thinking this hot pink top would look really good with your hula skirt.” She was going blonde manic and loving it. It’s funny how a kid can rob you of any sense of dignity, humiliate you in public, and you don’t mind as long as you’re getting laughs out of it too.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
We went to Target with the kids. Some things are absolutely predictable. After getting a few items in Health we continued on to get Ms. Pikachu some art supplies. We did not get past Toys. At least some of us didn’t get past Toys.
Train Boy believes he cannot just walk past a toy section. If he doesn’t get something we have failed to understand that he must get at least one thing anytime he goes through a toy section. Super Wife and Ms. Pikachu continued the long journey to art supplies, I stayed with Train Boy, and can that boy shop. First he checked out all the Hot Wheels, then he checked out all the LEGO’S, then it was Thomas the Tank Engine. That’s all I remember, but I know there was more. I do. I know.
After he made his final decision we headed out for the art supplies like we were driving cows to Abilene. Of course, by the time we got there they were gone. There was no alternative, Mr. Favor and Rowdie Yates hitched up our pants and kept driving all the way to Montana by way of Women’s Wear. And there we found them. It wasn’t long that I knew we should have said, “Meet you at the Target Grill Watering Hole.” Ms. Pikachu was going Trail Happy.
DaaAAaad! was her setup, followed with her fashion punch line. “Dad you wouldn’t believe some of the ugly clothes they’ve got here. This blouse is awful and it looks even worse with this ugly skirt. Here, let me hold them up in front of you. See?” “Dad, this blouse is so busy it makes you look lazy.” “Dad, this would be a two piece top with the skirt, so hold up the under piece for me, would you? Thanks” Super Wife did not help when she said, “That looks good on you.”
“Dad, I’m thinking this hot pink top would look really good with your hula skirt.” She was going blonde manic and loving it. It’s funny how a kid can rob you of any sense of dignity, humiliate you in public, and you don’t mind as long as you’re getting laughs out of it too.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Wednesday, May 05, 2004
05/05/04
As scheduled we went to the U of Ia for a neurosurgeon consult. On the way the Super Nurse remarked that surgeons always want to do surgery, so don’t be surprised if he recommends surgery instead of the gamma knife.
We talked to a Nurse Practitioner first. She outlined all three possibilities- gamma knife, radio therapy, conventional surgery. Then the neurosurgeon came in. Like the fellows at Mayo he said they don’t like to repeat conventional surgery due to the scar tissue. Then he said the gamma knife probably wouldn’t work because the tumor has moved the nerve and it would be hard to impossible to pinpoint. So he recommended radio therapy.
I don’t know how that procedure gets its name but would mean inserting a needle through my cheekbone where the nerve comes out, and fishing around till he finds where it comes out of the brain. Once that is done he would go in with another needle and burn the nerve somehow. From what I’ve read, the procedure is agony under normal conditions. Normal being the nerve is where it normally is. Mine isn’t there. Considering the prospect of a lot of fishing to find it, and a lot of pain. I balked. And the Super Wife was right.
So the next step is to have a consult with the radiologist to see if he thinks he can find it on an MRI and if the gamma knife is an option or not.
Then it was home and then to the Awana awards banquet for the kids. We got there early, who’da thunk? I was groggy from the meds, so, ignoring etiquette, I rested my head on the table. Ms. Pikachu amused herself by putting her CD player’s headphones on me. She was amused because she was playing a ‘Grassroots’ CD she’d burned, and while it played I’d pump my foot and I’d rock to it even though I was tired. I like the ‘Grassroots’ and she does too. It's impossible to stay still while 'Temptation Eyes' or 'Sooner or Later' is playing. Maybe that's just me.
I was among the first at our long table to get my food, and by far the last to finish. There were no knives so the only way to eat the sloppy joe was to compress it so I wouldn’t have to open my mouth very wide, and could take small bites. I’m not complaining, I’m long used to it. There was also a fine selection of jello’s and cakes.
When we were in the food line Train Boy was wrestling around with Ms. Pikachu’s friend, Erin. She was a good head taller than him, and it wasn’t much of a contest. But they needed to burn some energy so I let it go on. Train Boy was clearly heard to say, “But I’m too cute to die.” Girls have been talking, and he’s been listening.
Then it was home, more medication and I fell asleep on the couch. Woke up, and here you go.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
As scheduled we went to the U of Ia for a neurosurgeon consult. On the way the Super Nurse remarked that surgeons always want to do surgery, so don’t be surprised if he recommends surgery instead of the gamma knife.
We talked to a Nurse Practitioner first. She outlined all three possibilities- gamma knife, radio therapy, conventional surgery. Then the neurosurgeon came in. Like the fellows at Mayo he said they don’t like to repeat conventional surgery due to the scar tissue. Then he said the gamma knife probably wouldn’t work because the tumor has moved the nerve and it would be hard to impossible to pinpoint. So he recommended radio therapy.
I don’t know how that procedure gets its name but would mean inserting a needle through my cheekbone where the nerve comes out, and fishing around till he finds where it comes out of the brain. Once that is done he would go in with another needle and burn the nerve somehow. From what I’ve read, the procedure is agony under normal conditions. Normal being the nerve is where it normally is. Mine isn’t there. Considering the prospect of a lot of fishing to find it, and a lot of pain. I balked. And the Super Wife was right.
So the next step is to have a consult with the radiologist to see if he thinks he can find it on an MRI and if the gamma knife is an option or not.
Then it was home and then to the Awana awards banquet for the kids. We got there early, who’da thunk? I was groggy from the meds, so, ignoring etiquette, I rested my head on the table. Ms. Pikachu amused herself by putting her CD player’s headphones on me. She was amused because she was playing a ‘Grassroots’ CD she’d burned, and while it played I’d pump my foot and I’d rock to it even though I was tired. I like the ‘Grassroots’ and she does too. It's impossible to stay still while 'Temptation Eyes' or 'Sooner or Later' is playing. Maybe that's just me.
I was among the first at our long table to get my food, and by far the last to finish. There were no knives so the only way to eat the sloppy joe was to compress it so I wouldn’t have to open my mouth very wide, and could take small bites. I’m not complaining, I’m long used to it. There was also a fine selection of jello’s and cakes.
When we were in the food line Train Boy was wrestling around with Ms. Pikachu’s friend, Erin. She was a good head taller than him, and it wasn’t much of a contest. But they needed to burn some energy so I let it go on. Train Boy was clearly heard to say, “But I’m too cute to die.” Girls have been talking, and he’s been listening.
Then it was home, more medication and I fell asleep on the couch. Woke up, and here you go.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Tuesday, May 04, 2004
05/04/04
The Holy Wife always has a radio on, and it’s always tuned to a Christian station. Every morning they run contests. Sometimes it’s a test of Bible knowledge, and sometimes you just have to be the right caller. The Holy Wife loves playing these games. She has won more than a few CD’s. This morning the winner was the third caller. The third caller was the Holy Wife.
I found out when she came running upstairs and, smiling from ear to ear, told me she’d won. That’s nice, what’d you win, a CD? No. Concert tickets? No. I give up. Tickets to the -Sonshine Christian Rock Festival in Wilmar, Minnesota! That’s nice. Yeah it’s four days long and we can go camping! Oh my God.
This is not a little Christian Festival, it’s 20, 000 people. That was not a typo. But camping? I’ve never gone camping in my life. Starting with three nights at a rock festival seems like a steep learning curve. Maybe we could stay at a hotel? “Oh, no, camping would be free, and the kids have always wanted to go camping.” Right there I knew my only way out of this was major illness or death. The Holy Wife/Thrifty Wife/Super Mom had made up her mind.
One more time, I have never gone camping in my life. I have never used a portable toilet. They look nasty so I’ve always avoided them. My bladder and bowels can get me through a day, but I don’t think I can wait three days.
On the other hand, it’s three days of funnel cakes and corn dogs, so there is an up side. Yes, I AM kidding. Sometimes I think God has a warped sense of humor though.
Later in the day the Super Wife mowed the front yard; I mowed the back. I didn’t even injure myself. I had on some grungy blue jeans to also paint a piece of trim on the house’s second floor. I climbed the ladder a bit apprehensively because I don’t like heights in the first place, and my medication can make me very dizzy too. When she saw me up there she insisted I get down since I could get dizzy and fall. It made perfectly good sense, so I got down and she climbed up. I was grateful she was willing to do it, but also a little unhappy for failing the masculinity thing. To compensate I held the ladder, kept an eye on her, and never has a ladder been held in more manly fashion.
After the kids got home and everybody ate we rode bikes to the library. That’s a good thing to do as a fitness ‘thing’ so I have no complaints. Except we were riding into the sun the whole way and it was so blinding I could have been run over before I knew what happened, and it was really too cool, we should have been wearing jackets, we could have caught our deaths.
What always floors me on bike rides is that I change gears all the time. If we’re going up hill I’ll downshift till the pedaling is easy, I have no shame about trying to save my lousy knees. The Super Wife has never changed gears. Never. She does everything in 7th gear. This may explain why she has better legs than I do. That, and she’s the one who carries Train Boy. Do not hoot. Do not howl. It’s not that I’m unwilling.
His carrier is one of those seats that is above the rear wheel. It won’t fit on my bike, which has a wide frame that won’t accept it. Even if it did it wouldn’t matter. The Super Mom often biked with the kids before I would get home from work. She needed the carrier regardless. Never shifts with a six year-old on the back- Burly Mom.
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
The Holy Wife always has a radio on, and it’s always tuned to a Christian station. Every morning they run contests. Sometimes it’s a test of Bible knowledge, and sometimes you just have to be the right caller. The Holy Wife loves playing these games. She has won more than a few CD’s. This morning the winner was the third caller. The third caller was the Holy Wife.
I found out when she came running upstairs and, smiling from ear to ear, told me she’d won. That’s nice, what’d you win, a CD? No. Concert tickets? No. I give up. Tickets to the -Sonshine Christian Rock Festival in Wilmar, Minnesota! That’s nice. Yeah it’s four days long and we can go camping! Oh my God.
This is not a little Christian Festival, it’s 20, 000 people. That was not a typo. But camping? I’ve never gone camping in my life. Starting with three nights at a rock festival seems like a steep learning curve. Maybe we could stay at a hotel? “Oh, no, camping would be free, and the kids have always wanted to go camping.” Right there I knew my only way out of this was major illness or death. The Holy Wife/Thrifty Wife/Super Mom had made up her mind.
One more time, I have never gone camping in my life. I have never used a portable toilet. They look nasty so I’ve always avoided them. My bladder and bowels can get me through a day, but I don’t think I can wait three days.
On the other hand, it’s three days of funnel cakes and corn dogs, so there is an up side. Yes, I AM kidding. Sometimes I think God has a warped sense of humor though.
Later in the day the Super Wife mowed the front yard; I mowed the back. I didn’t even injure myself. I had on some grungy blue jeans to also paint a piece of trim on the house’s second floor. I climbed the ladder a bit apprehensively because I don’t like heights in the first place, and my medication can make me very dizzy too. When she saw me up there she insisted I get down since I could get dizzy and fall. It made perfectly good sense, so I got down and she climbed up. I was grateful she was willing to do it, but also a little unhappy for failing the masculinity thing. To compensate I held the ladder, kept an eye on her, and never has a ladder been held in more manly fashion.
After the kids got home and everybody ate we rode bikes to the library. That’s a good thing to do as a fitness ‘thing’ so I have no complaints. Except we were riding into the sun the whole way and it was so blinding I could have been run over before I knew what happened, and it was really too cool, we should have been wearing jackets, we could have caught our deaths.
What always floors me on bike rides is that I change gears all the time. If we’re going up hill I’ll downshift till the pedaling is easy, I have no shame about trying to save my lousy knees. The Super Wife has never changed gears. Never. She does everything in 7th gear. This may explain why she has better legs than I do. That, and she’s the one who carries Train Boy. Do not hoot. Do not howl. It’s not that I’m unwilling.
His carrier is one of those seats that is above the rear wheel. It won’t fit on my bike, which has a wide frame that won’t accept it. Even if it did it wouldn’t matter. The Super Mom often biked with the kids before I would get home from work. She needed the carrier regardless. Never shifts with a six year-old on the back- Burly Mom.
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
Monday, May 03, 2004
05/03/04
Slept in late. No, I don?t feel guilty.
Tried to have a bowl of Wheaties with bananas for lunch. Yes, I got up REALLY late. Unfortunately I could not eat the Wheaties. The crunching would start facial pain. Sure, I could let them sit there till they were soggy and eat them, but I don?t want soggy Wheaties, I?ve got my limits. The wife took them away and brought me tomato soup and a straw. You haven?t lived till you?ve done that. Whoopee.
It wasn?t long before we walked to Ms. Pikachu?s school to walk her home. A friend of her?s, Erin, walked along. While I got in some needed nap time on the couch the three of them made banana bread. The Super Wife believes all kids need to know how to make banana bread so they have a way of using old bananas. It?s her belief, and since the kids didn?t argue about it, okay.
Then it was another hour and I met Train Boy?s bus and walked him up to the porch. Train Boy reminded the Super Mom that they?d agreed this was a ?No TV? day. Super Mom had forgotten. Super Mom would have watched TV, in flagrant violation of the rule, except the cable was out. She?d called the cable company and they basically said, ?yeah, we know, we?re working on it.? So there had not been, nor would there be, any TV watching and the contract would be honored by all parties.
While the banana bread baked in the oven, Ms. Pikachu brought her Nintendo downstairs and plugged it into the living room TV. You?d think she would have been content to quietly play it in her own room, but no, she?s playing it in the living room where it can?t be missed. ?Hey, no TV.? ?I?m not watching TV, I?m playing a video game.? She could have a fine future as a lawyer.
While she played, Train Boy and Super Mom made bread in the bread machine. Nobody in our house is on the Atkins diet.
When the bread machine was properly set we went to see the local zoo, such as it were. It?s a small zoo- basically a petting zoo of farm animals except you?re not allowed to pet or feed them. They used to have a monkey house, and they spent $50,000 to improve it. Then they closed it. Do not ask me why. All I can say is they probably weren?t spending their own money. The next thing I?d say is, ?Are you sure you want bigger government??
We walked a little farther down to look at the ducks, which you also are not allowed to feed. Then the wife and kids decided to head up a rough looking trail. No way was I going to risk aggravating the face with a lot of jarring. So I headed back to the van. As I walked past the dirt prairie dog lot I couldn?t help but notice it was the one animal area that didn?t have a ?DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS? sign. Damn me for legalistic tendencies, but I ripped up some dandelions, balled them up so they could carry over the screen, looked around to be sure there were no witnesses, and tossed them in.
They were excited. You almost hear them chattering, ?Oh yeah, not just looking, not just smelling it, we?ve got some greens!? They seemed happy anyway. Watching the prairie dogs eat the greens I couldn?t help notice how similar they are to the guinea pigs.
Then I walked the rest of the way to the van, put the seat back, and got some sorely needed rest. I?m kidding about it being sorely needed, but the pills do make me tired.
When we got home we had fresh-baked bread and?. soup. At least it was vegetable and there was no way to eat it with a straw.
Gotta close, the head is getting dizzy.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
Slept in late. No, I don?t feel guilty.
Tried to have a bowl of Wheaties with bananas for lunch. Yes, I got up REALLY late. Unfortunately I could not eat the Wheaties. The crunching would start facial pain. Sure, I could let them sit there till they were soggy and eat them, but I don?t want soggy Wheaties, I?ve got my limits. The wife took them away and brought me tomato soup and a straw. You haven?t lived till you?ve done that. Whoopee.
It wasn?t long before we walked to Ms. Pikachu?s school to walk her home. A friend of her?s, Erin, walked along. While I got in some needed nap time on the couch the three of them made banana bread. The Super Wife believes all kids need to know how to make banana bread so they have a way of using old bananas. It?s her belief, and since the kids didn?t argue about it, okay.
Then it was another hour and I met Train Boy?s bus and walked him up to the porch. Train Boy reminded the Super Mom that they?d agreed this was a ?No TV? day. Super Mom had forgotten. Super Mom would have watched TV, in flagrant violation of the rule, except the cable was out. She?d called the cable company and they basically said, ?yeah, we know, we?re working on it.? So there had not been, nor would there be, any TV watching and the contract would be honored by all parties.
While the banana bread baked in the oven, Ms. Pikachu brought her Nintendo downstairs and plugged it into the living room TV. You?d think she would have been content to quietly play it in her own room, but no, she?s playing it in the living room where it can?t be missed. ?Hey, no TV.? ?I?m not watching TV, I?m playing a video game.? She could have a fine future as a lawyer.
While she played, Train Boy and Super Mom made bread in the bread machine. Nobody in our house is on the Atkins diet.
When the bread machine was properly set we went to see the local zoo, such as it were. It?s a small zoo- basically a petting zoo of farm animals except you?re not allowed to pet or feed them. They used to have a monkey house, and they spent $50,000 to improve it. Then they closed it. Do not ask me why. All I can say is they probably weren?t spending their own money. The next thing I?d say is, ?Are you sure you want bigger government??
We walked a little farther down to look at the ducks, which you also are not allowed to feed. Then the wife and kids decided to head up a rough looking trail. No way was I going to risk aggravating the face with a lot of jarring. So I headed back to the van. As I walked past the dirt prairie dog lot I couldn?t help but notice it was the one animal area that didn?t have a ?DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS? sign. Damn me for legalistic tendencies, but I ripped up some dandelions, balled them up so they could carry over the screen, looked around to be sure there were no witnesses, and tossed them in.
They were excited. You almost hear them chattering, ?Oh yeah, not just looking, not just smelling it, we?ve got some greens!? They seemed happy anyway. Watching the prairie dogs eat the greens I couldn?t help notice how similar they are to the guinea pigs.
Then I walked the rest of the way to the van, put the seat back, and got some sorely needed rest. I?m kidding about it being sorely needed, but the pills do make me tired.
When we got home we had fresh-baked bread and?. soup. At least it was vegetable and there was no way to eat it with a straw.
Gotta close, the head is getting dizzy.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Sunday, May 02, 2004
05/02/04
Being Sunday there was church, of course. To amuse her parents, during the service Ms. Pikachu draws pictures of Pokemon on the church bulletin. It is with no parental prejudice when I say she’s really good. No doubt about it, she’s artistically gifted.
Lunch was Hy-Vee again. Ms. Pikachu laughed as she named the things she was sure I’d have. Just to do something different I did not have the meatloaf, I had the ham balls. Sometimes you want to a little excitement in your life. Sometimes you just want to be different and devil-may-care. Let me assure you, if you want “different” and “exciting” ham balls are not the way to go about it. The next time we eat there I will be having the comfortable meatloaf.
You may be wondering, "Did she get a Palm Pilot, or not?" Ms. Pikachu remembered I'd bought her a similar device about a year ago- a V-Tech Phusion. So she got it out of wherever it was she'd stored it, and it works just fine. Not only can she store memos, do scheduling, and calendar entries, but it also has a half-dozen games and a camera for BW pictures on the top.
She was so excited about it, it was like it was new. I'd just bought it too early. We spent lunch playing trivia games, and she and Train Boy took pictures, some of them in 'movie mode.' In movie mode it takes a picture about every three seconds. The pictures are crude, but the kids love them.
Everybody else had their usual Chinese. Train Boy ate a fortune cookie without removing the fortune. He asked the Super Mom if he'd just poop it out. She told him that yes, he could, but if he does the fortune wouldn't come true. Gotta love her.
The rest of the day was fairly wasted. It was doing laundry, and when not folding clothes I watched the History Channel. I should have spent time with the kids. They’re growing so fast and the minutes I can have with them are vanishing as inexorably as a clock’s tick.
The kids were so funny at Hy-Vee it was just screams, but in not getting it down right away I’ve quite forgotten how the conversations went. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, it may be a side-effect of taking increased levels of nervous depressants. It's just lost. Argh.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
Being Sunday there was church, of course. To amuse her parents, during the service Ms. Pikachu draws pictures of Pokemon on the church bulletin. It is with no parental prejudice when I say she’s really good. No doubt about it, she’s artistically gifted.
Lunch was Hy-Vee again. Ms. Pikachu laughed as she named the things she was sure I’d have. Just to do something different I did not have the meatloaf, I had the ham balls. Sometimes you want to a little excitement in your life. Sometimes you just want to be different and devil-may-care. Let me assure you, if you want “different” and “exciting” ham balls are not the way to go about it. The next time we eat there I will be having the comfortable meatloaf.
You may be wondering, "Did she get a Palm Pilot, or not?" Ms. Pikachu remembered I'd bought her a similar device about a year ago- a V-Tech Phusion. So she got it out of wherever it was she'd stored it, and it works just fine. Not only can she store memos, do scheduling, and calendar entries, but it also has a half-dozen games and a camera for BW pictures on the top.
She was so excited about it, it was like it was new. I'd just bought it too early. We spent lunch playing trivia games, and she and Train Boy took pictures, some of them in 'movie mode.' In movie mode it takes a picture about every three seconds. The pictures are crude, but the kids love them.
Everybody else had their usual Chinese. Train Boy ate a fortune cookie without removing the fortune. He asked the Super Mom if he'd just poop it out. She told him that yes, he could, but if he does the fortune wouldn't come true. Gotta love her.
The rest of the day was fairly wasted. It was doing laundry, and when not folding clothes I watched the History Channel. I should have spent time with the kids. They’re growing so fast and the minutes I can have with them are vanishing as inexorably as a clock’s tick.
The kids were so funny at Hy-Vee it was just screams, but in not getting it down right away I’ve quite forgotten how the conversations went. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, it may be a side-effect of taking increased levels of nervous depressants. It's just lost. Argh.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
Saturday, May 01, 2004
05/01/04
My brother called and asked if I could pick up two auto parts for him from a junkyard here that had them. No problem. I wrote down his description of the parts and brought it along. Sure enough, the face hurt when it was my turn to talk to the parts man. I showed him what I’d written down and he said, “No problem, have a seat over there.” At times like that, when I can hardly talk, I really feel pathetic. With the depressants going I just want to sit there and cry. But I didn’t.
Then it was home. Picked up the kids, and away we went. When we got there he said he wanted to get his internet connection working on his new computer. He couldn’t find the installation disc for it. Crap. What to do, what to do? Well, I could try to copy the information over file by file in the ‘Internet Options’ folder. It seemed kind of risky, but kind of fun too.
If anyone ever offers to try that for you, you slap them and send them out the door. After this tech adventure his computer wouldn’t run for more than a few minutes before it would generate ‘System Shutting Down in 60 Seconds.’ It was a Hewlett-Packard, and, unlike my Compaq it doesn’t have a disc that will restore the system. It doesn’t even have a Windows disc. You’re supposed to restore it to its last saved Restore point. The only Restore Point it had was after I’d started monkeying with it.
Eventually I had to give up because I had to get the kids home so they’d get enough sleep before Sunday School. Oh well, there’s always next Saturday.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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My brother called and asked if I could pick up two auto parts for him from a junkyard here that had them. No problem. I wrote down his description of the parts and brought it along. Sure enough, the face hurt when it was my turn to talk to the parts man. I showed him what I’d written down and he said, “No problem, have a seat over there.” At times like that, when I can hardly talk, I really feel pathetic. With the depressants going I just want to sit there and cry. But I didn’t.
Then it was home. Picked up the kids, and away we went. When we got there he said he wanted to get his internet connection working on his new computer. He couldn’t find the installation disc for it. Crap. What to do, what to do? Well, I could try to copy the information over file by file in the ‘Internet Options’ folder. It seemed kind of risky, but kind of fun too.
If anyone ever offers to try that for you, you slap them and send them out the door. After this tech adventure his computer wouldn’t run for more than a few minutes before it would generate ‘System Shutting Down in 60 Seconds.’ It was a Hewlett-Packard, and, unlike my Compaq it doesn’t have a disc that will restore the system. It doesn’t even have a Windows disc. You’re supposed to restore it to its last saved Restore point. The only Restore Point it had was after I’d started monkeying with it.
Eventually I had to give up because I had to get the kids home so they’d get enough sleep before Sunday School. Oh well, there’s always next Saturday.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-