My Son, The Moron

5/12/14

Sad to say the results are in and are conclusive. The test, developed at some of the finest universities in Europe and North America, consists of one deceptively simple question. 

In a room with a low ceiling AND a chandelier that your mother has lugged from house to house for over 35 years, your preferred entertainment would be:

A) Reading Quietly.

B) Practice Swinging Your Light Saber. 

You may be able to guess which path my son chose. 

I told him that he'll need tell mom tomorrow when she calls but that he shouldn't worry about it.

Well, maybe he'll find a good woman more interested in looks than brains. 

Worked for Dear Old Dad.

K-Bowl

3/22/2014

Hello All,

    First, I don’t usually write folks out of the blue unless I have a more or less on-going correspondence with them. Unless I work with them. Or are related to them. Those of you in the “To:” cell who don’t find themselves in either category are there because you knew me and the Mrs. back in the day when we took this much more seriously. 

     Today, Wendi, Xander and I went to Arlington High School to watch the 2014 Washington State Knowledge Bowl Championship. We have been talking about doing so every year for, well, ever but 2014 was the year to get it done. 

    This was due to a combination of State being on this side of the mountains, our awareness of the fact due to a recent MV News article and last month’s (re) discovery of an April 2012 issue of the News which had a wonderful article on the history of LBH Knowledge Bowl. Got us all reminiscing about our glory days. (And annoyed Wendi to no end as they got her college and degree wrong.)

      After contacting Coach Hubbard by email to get the details, we made it by 10:00 this morning. Granted, the thing started at 8:00 but we made it. Wendi brought out her carefully packed “National Academic Championship” t-shirt from 1985 when my K-Bowl team went to Dallas. Not for her to wear but it didn’t look so bad on Xander. 

      Here’s the delightful thing that really shouldn’t have surprised us. Since this year’s Liberty Bell High School quiz kid team contains both a Mendro and a Reynauld, there was a group of Methow Valley Boosters already there to support the team. They were everywhere!

      Truth be told, I had concerns of we Hardy’s being the only non-competitors in the room. In retrospect, that was dumb. Of course, families will drive great distances to support their kids. 

      The choice of Arlington was wonderfully fortuitous because one AHS teacher is Ben Mendro. The Ben Mendro. Okay, for those not steeped in Knowledge Lore, Ben was on the team while I was still cooling my heels at Methow Valley Middle School. One of the LBH Quiz Bowl Legends. Oh, let’s not piss about; Ben is the other Legend. 

     In the same room. 

     Kinda like when Mr. Data met Spock. 

    But way cooler. 

    As for the competition, our Mighty Mountain Lions did well. 6th or 7th place Seemed to need to some extra practice on social studies (NB: Gettysburg was NOT a famous Revolutionary War battle nor is Glenn Beck is the only surviving Mercury Space Program member.) but since history was my specialty, I’m grading them pretty harsh on this one. The kids seem to know plenty about high school math and English grammar. I assume that was one of my team mate’s responsibility back when. Sure hope it was. 

   Must admit, in the last round, I kept track of all the questions I had answers to. Out of the 50 questions, I answered 17 (on a large post-it note). Of those, 7 where unanswered by any of the teams. Had there been some sort of emergency which required the invocation of the rarely used State Championship Old Folk Quota, I would not have embarrassed myself nor my alma matter.  My son-yes but he should be used to that by now. 

Here’s the last thing. Back in the 80s, we buzzed in by touching our fingers across two flat pieces of metal bars, completing a circuit. Then a digital read-out on a box would give you 15 seconds to answer the question. A time keeper held a piece of plastic attached to the box by a thick wire. He or she could reset the timer by laying a thumb over two bolt-heads; again completing the circuit. Even back then, when Ms. Pac Man was pretty high-tech, it seemed a pretty simple system to my eyes. 

Guess when/where the below photos were taken! Did you guess “Arlington, WA in 2014”? You guessed it. This wasn’t a case of reusing tried and true engineering. No, this piece of machinery was 30 years old. Those young whipper snappers were using the same devices their (equally brilliant) parents used decades in the past. 

For the life of me, I can’t decide whether that's pathetic or awesome. 

Well, I have taken up enough of your valuable time. Thank you for indulging me. 

Brian

Silverdale, WA 

LBH ‘86

The Best Laid Plans

11/23/2013

Well, yesterday was supposed to “The Night”. We were no longer worried about some body part falling off my wife were she to visit me upstairs. (If ya know what I mean, wink, wink.) 

Sadly, That Source of All Evil: Mrs. P organized a swimming party at the Bainbridge Pool last night from 5:00 to 7:00. That meant the two of us spent a couple of sweltering hours watching the Spawn frolic in the water. Okay, get the kid some fast food he can chow down on the long traffic-y ride home. 

Get home, he wants to watch something. Uh…DwTS? Nope. It’s still a 2 hour show and neither of us adults got a whole lot of sleep the previous night. Wendi woke about 2ish and had great trouble falling asleep. I woke up at my usual time of 5:50ish and quietly got ready to go; keeping all the lights off so as to not disturb the Sleeping Beauty below. (Actually, if I so much as change my mind somewhere in the house, Wendi is instantly awake but I keep trying.) 

I was just about ready to leave when I realized that I’d gotten up at 4:50ish instead. So both of us were working from a serious sleep deficit. 

Okay, I pick It’s Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown. Only a half hour. Done! Wait! Xander has started the 2nd Charlie Brown special on the DVD, which is “Watch Pilgrims Starve and Die of Dysentery, Charlie Brown.” Seriously. Quite depressing. And not very romantic. But only another 30 minutes. But now we are well past 9:30. Danger Zone!

So, the holiday DVD is done. As it’s Friday, Wendi goes upstairs to read to the boy. Ideally, something quick. And tiring for the child. Downstairs, I am enjoying my Friday 39 Minutes of xBox Fun. Whoo-hoo!

Then, tragedy strikes. About 20 minutes into my game session, Xander comes down to tell me his mother has fallen asleep while reading to him.

Sad Trombone Sound Here.

I trudge upstairs and get the wife (who is now under the pile of pillows and blankets Xander thoughtfully dumped on her) awake long enough to get into bed. And turn down the $#@@!! heat ‘cause if she’s in an actual bed (and not on the downstairs couch with her top half propped up on pillows), then we don’t need the thermostat so blasted high. 

Wendi sleeps and, with no adults to stop me, I play Bioshock till about 2:00 AM. :( 

Well, into mid-morning, I hear Xander rummaging in the pantry for sustenance so I get out of bed and go feed him. Wendi soon follows. We both get plenty of sleep, at least but sadly, all that horizontal sleeping has caused my Wife’s face to swell. No, J, not “Pumpkinhead” swollen but enough to convince her that she’s not quite done with sleeping downstairs. 

More trombone. 

So, the plan now is to get the darn kid asleep as early as possible; tranquilizer dart to the ass if needed. Or, we could just let him sleep outside. Character-buiding. Whatever.

And, once that’s accomplished, Wendi will visit me upstairs (again, wink, wink). Once she done visiting me, I’ll kick her ass back downstairs and get some shut-eye. Get the light and make sure the door’s closed on your way out, woman. See you in the morning. 

I am either a very lucky man. Or a very unlucky one. Whichever it is, wish me luck!

Brian

PS Best “Laid” Plans? Get it? Laid? It’s a euphemism. For visit me upstairs. Which is another euphemism. For “business time”. 

Oh, for Pete’s Sake, do I have to spell everything out to you people? 

Best Laid Clams of Mice and Men

7/10/2013

Or

The Road to the State Penn is Paved with Good Intentions.

Washington Discover Pass ($30 annual)

Okay, the original plan was to go to Dosewallips State Park. The boy has been pestering us to no end so I decided to bite the bullet and look for a place to go. In addition to having a silly name, the above park would be a bit of a drive; being on the other side of Hood Canal. That was both a plus and a minus. It's a pretty drive but would be at least an hour-hour and a half to get there. The name came up since a friend of mine used to go there to go clamming.  

And it required a Discover Pass! I make a point of stopping by Discovery Park and taking a big, toilet-paper-wasting dump. And then blowing my nose. My personal form of civil disobedience. 

Washington State Shellfish License-Adult ($16) 

However, the Washington State Department of Useless Information listed Dosewallips as being in the "Advisory" category with reason "Cook All Shellfish. WARNING: This beach can have multiple classifications." No! Really? Cook the shellfish? Can have multiple classifications? Well, this was a Font of Nothing. 

So, I did a search of what was open to clamming. Kitsap County? Nothing. Jefferson had Kinney Point. Not a state park but a DNR. That's kind of like a park, right? It looked nice and had a nice calming "Green" for status. I did a google reviews search, got directions, equipment, the boy and headed out yesterday mid-morning.

Clam Rake  ($24.99) 

So, the kid and I headed Northeast to Marrowstone Island. No problem. Well...A bit of a problem. We were certainly surrounded by water; it being an island and all. However, there didn't seem to be any road that went to this State Park. We drove over a good portion of place to no avail. Time to check the information I'd gathered before leaving. Ah...When the website said, "It is reachable by beachable boats only.", I guess that meant a person couldn't drive to it. Well, that seemed a dumb-assed idea. This is 'Merica, where we should be able to reach any place in These United States without the horror of having to leave your automobile. 

My best laid plans had gone awry. My Plan B? Drive till we hit a beach. So, we did. 5 minutes up that road it was Mystery Bay State Park. We left our Deposit for the Governor, and then read the signs saying there was no clamming allowed at this beach. It having been seeded with clam and oyster...eggs? to build up the population. And we saw all the signs saying the beaches to either side of the park's beach were private property so we common folk shouldn't even think about it. Another thing I learned. The public doesn't own the beach. Huh. 

On we drove. 

Gas ($25) 

North, north we went. Eventually, we made it to.... Fort Flagler State Park. Yes! Despite my confused meanderings, it was actually pretty close to Kinney Point so I figured the water wouldn't be that much different. Makes sense, right? Just to be on the safe side, I asked the nice lady in the information booth if there were any good clamming spots in the park and whether there were any current shellfish warnings. (At this time, I do not have a smart phone and so couldn't check the wdfw.wa.gov website myself.)  Yes and no were the answers I got. She pointed me in the direction of the best beach and 4 minutes later, we were there. As we were going out, a nice-looking family was returning to the parking lot with their bucket full of shellfish. We exchanged a few pleasantries and on we went. 15-ish minutes later (and after getting advice from two other groups taking pity on us) we hit "the spot". Xander working the clam rake and I worked the ladies' garden shovel. We basically just walked around till something squirted us from below. Then we dug. Most were butter clams, (or maybe Manilas) though there were a few huge cockles. Okay, this is a bit of speculation but they were definitely all clams. And no geoducks. (Shudder...)

2.5 Gallon Bucket with Lid  ($6.49) 

Our little gallon jug was filled up after maybe 35-45 minutes of digging. We collected perhaps half of what we could have (limit for most clams is 40 a day per person) but I figured we had enough to get at least one good meal out of it. And I thought the longer we were out there, the greater the chance Officer Not So Friendly would show up and helpfully point out all the rules I'd broken. So, the boy and I took a few photos, got somewhat cleaned up and put the clams into our newly purchased bigger bucket with more sea water. We gassed up, bought some snacks and headed for home.  

Convenience Store Snacks ($5.50) 

I asked Xander to give Wendi a call to tell her our estimated arrival time. Based upon our initial trip, I figured we'd take about an hour and a half to get home. To my shock, we crossed the Hood Canal Bridge in about 20 minutes. Without the clueless wanderings, the return trip back was about 20 miles. We got home way before Wendi did which gave us time to unload the car and bring in our Not-Very Deadliest Catch. (Though one of those suckers did manage to squirt me in the face. Thank Goodness I never go outside without my safety sunglasses!) 
And I had time to look up Fort Flagler on the doh.wa.gov website. See if I missed anything important. Like the information below: 

(Screen Capture of website with Fort Flagler definitely in The Shellfish Red Zone.)

.... Well, would you look at that! Ain't that a kick in the head? Seems the nice Info Lady didn't have correct info. Nor did the few other families we saw out there clamming.  Huh. 

So I had a 20ish toxic clams cooling their (figurative) heels in my new bucket. Wonderful. Smashing. And Mrs. Hardy is someone who gets nervous about expiration dates on distilled water. (Okay, that might actually be me.) Just not interested in risking it. 

What to do? Seemed kind of mean to just throw the little bivalves into the garbage. I mean, they were still alive after all...So... Maybe do kind of a Free Willy thing? 
Okay, but it was getting close to supper time. No way I was driving back to Morrowstone Island. Even if it would be a much quicker trip without all the diversions. The heck with that; I'll just do it somewhere around here. I seriously doubt my passengers would care. 
But Wendi, bless her heart, had a concern, "You just gonna put these toxic clams into the water around here? Can you do that? Is that legal?" 

Of course, that was a ridiculous concern. Pretty much every beach in the county is closed. Nobody is going to care about some dude returning clams to our toxic sea. Right?.....
On the other hand, being arrested for " Spreading Marine Biotoxin" would be a really stupid thing to get busted for. 

"Local man, former teacher seen above with former wife and former son, to be sentenced today for the lamest crime ever."  

So, no, I was sure this would be fine but, let's just say I didn't advertise what I am doing. Just, you know, do it on the sneaky-like. Sigh. And I really am trying to do a good deed here. I thought I was anyway. A good deed. 

So I zip over to Scenic Beach. (In a bit of a hurry so I don't bother with my usual "deposit for the governor".) Wow! I have literally never seen the Scenic Beach so crowded. Maybe somewhere else. 
Like the boat launch just one mile away. Looks good. Nobody around. Maybe I'll just head back to my car and..... What the hell are those people doing? Out of nowhere a fat family of dumb people drive up to the boat launch and park. Just park and just stand there stupidly looking stupid. Without a boat, I might add! I think it's very rude to hang out at a boat launch without a boat. Frankly, I think it's downright suspicious. (Unless you are trying to release wildlife back into the wild. That would be a noble act of nobility.) 

Okay, so let's zip into Silverdale. There's a park on the beach. Probably crowded but a noble-looking fellow with a bucket wouldn't attract too much attention. Lots of people fish off that pier. 

(Important side note. What the boat ties up to and what you walk on is the "pier". The water between piers, where the boats bob up and down is the "dock". Call the Pope. Otis Redding could apparently sit on water.) 

Well, my luck held because I could not find a single parking spot anywhere near the park. Never happened before but yesterday was the day. Time to take a break and just hope the little suckers didn't start boiling in the back. Took time to walk a couple miles at the Y. 

Refreshed and now very ready for dinner, I took a quick pass by the Silverdale park. Still full. Time to drive out to Seabeck again. It was high tide so the water was right up to the sea wall in "downtown" Seabeck. I pulled over. Walked my new bucket a good distance away from a family letting their dog play in the water. Waiting. Traffic goes by. Waiting some more. Look around (but not in a suspicious way) and nobody seems to be looking my way. Off with the lid. (Ugh...They all have their...dangly part out.) Keeping the bucket in a firm grasp using both hands, I heave the contents as far out into the water as possible. Good luck, boys. You're on your own now.
Total time from leaving the car to my return: 35 seconds. Time to make my get away to the fabulous chick-pea burger awaiting me at home.

Since I am not writing you this from prison, you may assume that either spending roughly $100 to transport some clams about 25 air miles south isn't a crime OR nobody in authority was around to witness the wrong doing.  Either way, I'm probably okay. 
Xander will remember to fun of catching clams and the joy of seeing his father getting squirted in the butt. Some things are beyond price, my friends. 

And I still have all of August to find a better beach. Maybe Dosewallips.....
We could go to Long Beach and make it an overnighter. 
Probably need a clam gun for that......

Feared By Bi-valves Everywhere,

Brian

You’re Just Being Shellfish!

7/1/2013

I'm just walking from one chair in the dark to the next. I am taking a sensible caution of avoiding light on the off-chance I might burst into flames. 

Wendi and Xander have gone to the grocery store to get won ton wrappings for the BBQ and....some other stuff. Legos, maybe? (Yes, she probably told me about 8 times.) After that, Xander has his TKD lesson so it's back to the Y for the second time today. I'm considering going there a second time simply because they have a/c. 

Yesterday was quite productive. I redid the emergency supplies, watered all the vital trees/plants, mowed and weedeated. (Is that a word?) I also got my wonderful neighbor to agree to a date to saw down the tree which a is on our property but is leaning towards his driveway. This is the 3rd summer I've been looking at that widow maker. It's always been "Yeah, we'll get that soon." but we finally decided on this Saturday. Yippee!

I now have a crap-load of bug spray, sun block, and canned food from last year's emergency supplies. They are good now but won't last another year. Maybe come Thursday, we can bring won tons AND 12 pounds of Chili. And 110 ounces of mandarin oranges. The oranges aren't a big problem as they are in small(ish) cans but the 6 pound cans of chili kind of scare me. There is no going back once you open one of those bad boys. 

Granted, J seems to have invited the majority of the county so she might need some extra chow. And it will be outside. And the 4th of July. Rocket's Red Glare. Gas Clouds Bursting Everywhere....  

Ms. Wendi seems to have enjoyed her solo week though word on the street has it she was moving a bit slowly to morning after Mrs. B's visit. 

'Bout 1/3 of the way through my latest novel; a horror novel called NOS4A2. I don't know why I do this to myself. I buy a scary book and then half-way through, it's all "Too much anxiety. Can't continue book!" 

Any of you know who might have left a large glass serving bowl with a blue lid at our BBQ a couple of week's back? It's here on my desk and will continue to do so till I find its rightful owner. 

Hope to see the majority of you on Thursday. 

Salut!

B. 

The Ranch 2013

6/25/2013

Dad-For The Win!

Well, as you can see by the photo, Xander was quite happy to be finally reunited with his long-lost best bud Alex. (What you might not be able to tell is that he [Xander] asked me to wait a moment before taking the pic to furtively wipe a tear away.) Sometime this evening, Xander had for some reason left his stuffed animal in the TV room.

At least that was his (Alex's) story.

Not easy to come out the hero here at the Ranch. Seems my whole job is to say No! to my son.  He really would like nothing more than to occupy 98.4+% of his grandmother's time. Intellectually, he understands that Grandpa Harold needs a lot of help but the scope of the job is really beyond him. And so it's up to me to remind him 10-12 times a day to not add to Tutu's work. Just this morning.  it was that he should have been just as enthusiastic for the pizza option as the hamburger option. Tutu can just buy one but has to make the other. Imagine hearing something like that from your old man over and over.

And over....

He would get the idea VERY quickly were Harold to collapse to the floor (again) or something else similarly traumatic but I don't really want Xander to have to learn this lesson right now. So, he'll just have to put up with the World's Lamest Parent destroying all his hopes and dreams.

And, of course, the entire Ranch is "base"; where his person is sacrosanct and little things like manners and acceptable speech go outta the dang window.

Pester me not with your trivial concerns, old uptight man. Tutu and I must discuss the vital matter of squirrel traps. Begone! I say.

And all I want to do is reach across the dinner table is grab him by the collar and scream, "Close your #%!*¥! mouth when you eat, you pig!!" But that wouldn't be cool. At least with the M-I-L in the room. So I just try to encode positive reminders in the strained looks I give him after he has interrupted us or put his feet up on his chair for the killionth* time.

On the plus side, we have finally started reading "Eddie Dickens" and, as a favorite book reviewer promised, it's hysterical.

And we saw a moose tonight. Out in the pasture. All these years in the Valley and till last year, I just thought they were really buff deer.

Oh, and the Lionel Richie CD playing during dinner time got off track and "Hello" suddenly sounded like it was coming from the Pits of Hell. Well, more than normal. This was something only I could enjoy. Xander doesn't know what true 80s Soft Rock is supposed to sound like. Harold can't hear for squat and Tina tunes it out 'cause she hates bland music playing throughout the house. Has for decades.

Clearly, she did not imbue her daughter with the same suffer in silence mindset.

So anyway, I liked Lucifer Richie, the moose and finding my son's teddy bear. Just tomorrow has further thrills in store.

'Night!

The Hero Brian

* A number so big, it can be fatal to understand how big it is.

Sent from anyplace in Winthrop I can find with wi-fi.

(Un)Thrilling News From Silverdale!!!

8/11/2012

Hey Aunt B!

As you know, we went to the King Tut Exhibit yesterday. Glad we went but Xander ended up getting rather bored about half way through the thing. You can only look at so many old statues before antsiness sets in. But for me, highlight was seeing the Ancient Egyptian Unguent Jars. No, really. I excitedly dragged the boy and wife over to see. (To their great unexcitement.)

You see, just in the past week, I learned there is a difference between "unguent" and "ungulate". (I know, talk about embarrassing!)

In a fit of elation, I also took some unguent photos with my cell phone. Then realized what a dumb-assed thing that was to do with that piece of crud phone.

Xander's Heartfelt Writing on his wonderful day was and I quote:

I went to Seatll.

I went to the King tut egsipit.

It was okay.

It was vare long.

Wouldn't you say the boy takes after the Berry side in writing?

In the more important news category, Xander's 9th birthday went very well. The Darth Vader Piñata was a big hit. (So to speak) Young JL nearly whacked dad A in the bread basket so that was good fun. And Xander was able to salvage most of his head after the beat-down once it had been emptied. (Vader's-Not A's) Truly a terrifying sight.

Wendi's decided to go down to 2 days a week as Mondays have started being extremely light this past six months and she only gets  paid when the clients show up. With  the long commute,  the toll, lunch and Martha  and Mary  before  and  after  school, if she  doesn't have  at least 4 clients  show up, she loses money on the day. Which has  happened quite a bit  So  we'll  be in  slightly less money  but  my Mondays will be  a lot  less harried  So I'm glad about that Plus, she's started Weight Watchers  so Monday's  will no  longer  be  the Hardy Boys'  Bacon Ice Cream Night. Good  thing? Bad thing? Time will tell.

Apparently, the moles have been laying low this past June and July only so they could launch an all out attack this past few weeks. I know I should be above all this but pretty much first thing every morning I want to put on Big Spikey Boots and jump up and down on small furry animals.

The Devil probably would've won that bet had Job faced two or three new mole hills every morning.

Okay, now I really do have to wrap it up. The Family is tag-teaming me with glares and sharp comments. Time to go

Das Va-Dawn-Ya!

Very (un)Serious News

8/8/2012

     Another thrilling Wednesday in Kitsap County. Got two texts from you today. Well, so I thought. The first told me of a Huge Scary Spider looming above the front door. The rest of the message, that is, the words below the second line, were unknown to me as I CAN'T SCROLL DOWN on my %$#@'ing phone!!! 

     (Calming breath)

    However, as you immediately sent me a devil's face text*, I just assumed it was you following up to the earlier one. Seems this was not the case.

    I swung (swang? swinged?)  by your house today after "working" a bit to see how Ms. M and your house were getting along. You know, make sure all the beer bottles were thrown WAAAY down the hill, how to hide holes in sheetrock with toothpaste and the like. Well, Ms. M. was waiting in her car for me to arrive. Apparently, the rest of the mysterious text was something to the affect of "....and would you please take care of the Huge Scary Spider when you stop by to visit??". (I, of course, had prearranged my visit with her well beforehand.) 

    So, strike one for Manly Manitude as I took care of the rather smallish arachnid. Let's hear it for the boys!

   Ms. M is doing well and your house is still in one piece. She and the cats are getting along well enough though the one under that bed has yet to come out. And none of them seem particularly good at spider-eating. We chatted for a bit and then I went on about my merry way; though now saddened by my new knowledge that I have been mixing up unguent and ungulate for who knows how long. Oh, how you gals must have snickered behind my back.

    Tomorrow, we're all meeting for our monthly Bistro gathering. Not that we need much of a reason but our old Clear Creek Comrade GS is back in town. He moved to Italy (wife's a lawyer with the DOD) about 5 years ago. Quite a hoot. Imagine me with L's technical skills and a former Navy pilot's Devil May Care attitude and you get the picture. Only with much less hair. I've still got him beat there. 

    Sure hope he doesn't want his classroom back. 

   So it'll be a pretty big crowd tomorrow including some long-time CC'ers who just want to say howdy to the prodigal son. As Mrs. B will be there, I sure hope George didn't leave for Italy with any overdue books.

   Spent most of my "working" time talking with R-Dub in her new (ha-ha) classroom. Seems the 20% chance that she might get your old classroom is driving her crazy. It's hope that is the cruelest gift. If only she'd accept her lot in life, things would be so much simpler. Right now, I'd call her a bit on edge about it if not actually Verklempt. 

   She is pretty sure that they won't make my next Game Night, which I have very tentatively scheduled for Friday of next week. Wendi and Xander are leaving for a Ranch trip on Thursday so I expect by Friday afternoon, I'll be at the beard-down-to-my-waist/saving-bottles-of-urine-under-the-bed/obsessed-with-floridation-and-the-Gold-Standard/Giggling-to-Myself-stage-of-boardom so it'll be good to have something to look forward to. Not sure who could make it. Naturalmente, it won't be the same sans my favorite Disguster Operator but don't worry, Game Night is quick, cheap and fun. Three things I like in an evening's entertainment. (And in a wife-Zing!) so we'll be doing this monthly. 

    Wendi's progress on her MineCraft Pyramid proceeds apace. She has just finished her 12th row, which is about a forth of the way to go. I can see your confusion. Just trust me; this MineCraft Building will be very impressive to the folks who could give a crap about building stuff in MineCraft. No doubt there are multitudes of folks eager for such a momentous structure to be completed. 

    Sadly, there are very few such multitudes within this here TV Room. There's, like one; and she's playing the %$#%&'ing game. 

   Speaking of a digital life, you ever figure out why those birds are so dang angry at those pigs? I mean, sure you're probably dealing with stuff but this is important. Never could figure out the plot of that game.

  Welp, it's way past my bedtime and I have run out of witty, pithy things to write (Wait for it...) so it's time to wrap this sucker up. Write when you can but don't sweat it. Look forward to you getting back to your home country. Though you already know it, I'll say it again. If you need anything, I mean anything day or night, big favor or small, you just make the call and it's done. (You have Ms. M's phone number, correct?) 

I tired.

Ba-Bye.

B. 

*Hmmm....Upon reflection, that might have not been the Lord of Flies but instead a cat. That probably makes more sense...

The Productive Life

7/11/2012

Thus ends my three solo days with Wendi at work and Xander at Martha and Mary Kids' Camp. Starting tomorrow, the Mrs. and I will attempt to keep out of each other's hair. I have plenty left on my To-Do list, though it's much shorter than it was Monday morning.

Said morning, I chainsawed up the rest of the tree that fell now two winters ago. We still have a bit of firewood left over from last year but I get such a feeling of comfort from having way too much winter supplies. Bring on Snowpocolypes!

And after that came the actual falling of a still upright tree. Granted, it was mostly dead but an ax and a bow saw were required to bring down its 20-some feet of Madrona-ee goodness.

Truth be told, my original plan had been to chop down it's 40' big brother. We hate Madronas, it's not by any breakable structure and we've been told for years how great the firewood is. But when friend L swung by last week and heard my plans, he hinted maybe I should invite him over to help shout timber (!) while at the ready to dial 911 as I was likely to injure myself. That made me think, "Damn...if L thinks this is a nutty idea..."

So the smaller tree it was. One unfortunate result of my information based economy career is that working an ax for even a short amount of time left me with blisters on my hands. It's a tragedy as I have always found chopping wood very calming. Guess bringing down an irregular shaped but still upright tree and splitting uniformly sawed rounds of wood are different skill sets.

Be that as it may, the timing was somewhat bad timing as that was also the day I needed to take my "specimen" into the Group Health Lab. No doubt I'm paranoid but it did seem the lab tech spent just a half-second too long looking at my band aids as she (gingerly) took the specimen bottle.

But, warming my (delicate) hands by an open fire this winter will be nice. Of course, I'll need to find a place to hide most of it as Wendi has allotted only a pitiful amount of space in the garage for burnables storage. And us with our new fire-pit as well.  Maybe under a tarp outside.

Another project completed was redoing the emergency supplies in both the car and house. The first involved mostly restocking medicines. It won't matter if we've got jumper cables, water, bug juice and rain coats (though we do), IF Wendi finds herself broken down in Pretty Mouth, GA without any "feminine products", it's Game Over.

 As for the house supplies, restocking mostly involved food. The bottled water needn't be replaced, despite the sell-by date, so I just needn't some more canned goods for the zombie apocalypse. It was a trip to Costco, looking for the longest lasting grub to be found. Settled on 2 SIX pound cans of chili 'cause it's nourishment and heat all in one. And they'll be good for over two years.

You laugh but those two cans of joy will be like gold when the Big One hits.

I also bough a flat of canned satsumas since, well, when your other big plan is TWELVE pounds of Costco chili, you really can't have too much fiber on hand.

Another big ticket item now on the "fini" list is renewing my teaching certificate. I've still almost one year left on it but getting too close to a deadline makes me paranoid. (Hmmmm..there may be a psychological pattern here.)

So I got my clock hour transcript, filled out the form, wrote out the check and popped it into the mail today. Now I wait for RD, our beloved Superintendent of Public Instruction, to give me a call saying I misspelled my name or that all my clock hours were just the District playing a joke on me.
Pretty much every time I do this (twice a decade), I think I sure hope this is the last for this foolishness. A national boards certificate would be nice but doing all the work only to have the stipend taken away by Olympia would kill me. Guess I'm a can of chili half-empty kind of guy. This state's broken my heart too many times before.

Well, I should probably wrap this thing up. Wouldn't want to over stay my welcome. (Anyone? Anyone?)

Some of you I will see at the Bistro tomorrow and those I don't, it's probably better that way.

Long Live Costco Bean Products!!!

Brian

Father Really Doesn’t Know Best

11/19/2011

(Saturday About 7:00 am)

My son is in the TV Room (aka Family Room/aka The Room Where We Watch TV) sleeping peacefully after a wild night of, well, sleeping in the TV Room. This is big stuff for him. Quite possibly the first time he's ever done that. "Why?" you ask. 

Well I tried a bit of dad psychology and it backfired. Let me set it up.

Several years ago, I listened to an interview of a writer discus his childhood. The writer (name forgotten) mentioned his great fear of bears as a young child. His dad, knowing that a simple, "No, really, there are no bears in this backyard" declaration really wouldn't do the trick so to calm fears decided to tell his son, "Tell you what, if we do see any bears back here tonight, I'll give you five bucks." With that, the ursa-phobe began to switch his focus from the horror of a grizzly attack towards the idea of "Well, it would be terrible if a bear attacked but with that $5, I could....." That story has stuck with me all this time. To my detriment, it seems.

So, last night, we're all watching a Superman animated movie. It's about 45 minutes into the show and things are looking mighty grim for the Man of Steel. There just doesn't seem to be any way he would be able to escape the deadly fate cooked up by the evil Lex Luthor*. I could see that this was really upsetting my lil' Man of Steel. The lower lip was starting to jut out, the eyes were watering and he kept looking away from me and he kept saying "He's going to die." (Way to be positive, son.)

For some strange reason, if our son broke down into tears as all three of us watched the movie, it would somehow be my fault. So, with the certainly that watching 53 thousand superhero shows/movies brings, I told Xander that I was positive that Superman would be fine by the end of the show but IF he did die, I'd pay Xander $10...and he could sleep downstairs today. With suspicious haste, Xander demanded it be doubled to $20 and that I throw in a trip to (shudder!) Chuck E. Cheese. 

Did he have some sort of inside knowledge? Hmmm...I can say that after we shook hands, he immediately and enthusiastically switched over to "Team Lex". What had I created??

When Wendi returned from drying her hair, Xander told her the bet we made. She asked exactly what I would get if I won the bet and I said, with much confidence (aka stupidity), that my son would have to admit that father knows best. The understood but unstated other advantage of winning the bet was that a weeping child did not make for a "the kid's asleep" romantic evening.

Well, at this point, you probably know where this is going. Despite my protestations that Superman was probably still alive, just...uh...trapped in the sun or about to be reborn (very deep, today's super heroes) Wendi, my wife, my love, my friend, my senior year prom date, gleefully ruled that I had lost the bet. Told Xander to go get his pillows and sleeping bag. And asked me where I'd get $20. She helpfully recommended I could mow lawns in the neighborhood.  And finally, inquired as to when I would take him to (the worst restaurant in the world) Chuck E. Cheese. 

Stupid, modern, self-important cartoons. This wouldn't have happened if we'd just stuck to Superfriends......

Better go put up my lawn service flyers.

Brian

Who Really Doesn't Know Best

*Side note. During the movie, we learned that Mr. Luthor's full first name is Alexander. My son was shocked, shocked.