You learn things from putting a child to bed. You learn a lot about robbers and boogiemen. For creatures who sneak around in the crepuscular shadows, they are remarkably sensitive to subtle gradations of illumination. We have dimmers everywhere, so I have learned to calibrate the light just so. Doors are a simpler proposition – either they are closed completely, or they might as well be wide open. If the door is slightly ajar, all sorts of evil can flow into the room. Close it completely, and the robbers are utterly confounded. A knob! Curses! I thought the alarm system was bad enough, but now a knob stands in our way? Let us retreat through the skylight from whence we came, lads.
-Lileks
Saturday, February 27, 2010
For Our Anniversary
by Jason Tandon
Now that the flowers have dried and withered,
I will tell you that they were a re-wrapped
bouquet—severely discounted—
which allowed me to purchase
those two salmon fillets I glazed
with a bottle of maple dressing,
the crab cakes I served with a spoonful
of spicy mustard from the housewarming sampler
your mother had gifted us,
the package of pre-mixed chocolate chunk
cookie dough I baked from scratch,
and from a fundraising ballet troupe,
that banana nut votive candle
which lasted just the one night.
Now that the flowers have dried and withered,
I will tell you that they were a re-wrapped
bouquet—severely discounted—
which allowed me to purchase
those two salmon fillets I glazed
with a bottle of maple dressing,
the crab cakes I served with a spoonful
of spicy mustard from the housewarming sampler
your mother had gifted us,
the package of pre-mixed chocolate chunk
cookie dough I baked from scratch,
and from a fundraising ballet troupe,
that banana nut votive candle
which lasted just the one night.
Friday, February 26, 2010
The Oxen
by Thomas Hardy
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come; see the oxen kneel
"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,"
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come; see the oxen kneel
"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,"
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
Holy Schnikies!
UPDATE:
heh . . .
Thanks jen!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Mom's Stovetop Pork Ribs
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Family dog a hero after sticking by lost 3-year-old girl through freezing weather
Teaser:
Cops in Arizona are crediting a family dog with saving the life of a lost little girl.
Three-year-old Victoria Bensch wandered away from her family home in Cordes Lakes, Ariz. on Thursday and got lost in the mountains surrounding the valley.
Search parties spent the night looking for the girl as temperatures dipped below 30 degrees.
She was finally spotted 15 hours after she vanished by a helicopter pilot on Friday.
Next to her was Blue, the family's Queensland heeler.
LINK HERE
Cops in Arizona are crediting a family dog with saving the life of a lost little girl.
Three-year-old Victoria Bensch wandered away from her family home in Cordes Lakes, Ariz. on Thursday and got lost in the mountains surrounding the valley.
Search parties spent the night looking for the girl as temperatures dipped below 30 degrees.
She was finally spotted 15 hours after she vanished by a helicopter pilot on Friday.
Next to her was Blue, the family's Queensland heeler.
LINK HERE
Travel Directions
by Joan I. Siegel
There ought to be a word
for the way you know how to get some place
but don't remember the names of streets
the number of turns and blinking yellow lights
so that if someone asked
you really couldn't say
except you know the road starts out straight
and when it's sunny the branches blink across
the windshield making you want to rub your eyes
then the road turns sharply uphill past a red barn
where a black dog jumps out to race you for a quarter mile
and finally recedes in the mirror like a disappointment
and you remember the road dips downhill
into the shadows of the morning
where you hear Bach's unaccompanied 'cello
and understand what a good fit the 'cello makes
in the hollow of the body
where grief begins and for an indeterminate time
the road winds vaguely past
houses people road signs
while time hums in your ear and you remember
the dream you left behind that morning
which had nothing
to do with where
you are going
There ought to be a word
for the way you know how to get some place
but don't remember the names of streets
the number of turns and blinking yellow lights
so that if someone asked
you really couldn't say
except you know the road starts out straight
and when it's sunny the branches blink across
the windshield making you want to rub your eyes
then the road turns sharply uphill past a red barn
where a black dog jumps out to race you for a quarter mile
and finally recedes in the mirror like a disappointment
and you remember the road dips downhill
into the shadows of the morning
where you hear Bach's unaccompanied 'cello
and understand what a good fit the 'cello makes
in the hollow of the body
where grief begins and for an indeterminate time
the road winds vaguely past
houses people road signs
while time hums in your ear and you remember
the dream you left behind that morning
which had nothing
to do with where
you are going
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Failing and Flying
by Jack Gilbert
Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.
Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Wheels
The PT place Annie goes to every week has an array of equipment that she can try out. This is the first wheelchair she has tried - it's a little big for her but they make smaller ones.
The Little Vagabond
By William Blake
Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold,
But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;
Besides I can tell where I am used well,
Such usage in Heaven will never do well.
But if at the church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day,
Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.
Then the parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
And God, like a father rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as he,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold,
But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;
Besides I can tell where I am used well,
Such usage in Heaven will never do well.
But if at the church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day,
Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.
Then the parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
And God, like a father rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as he,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Quote of the Day
Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.
~ Marilyn Vos Savant
The Alien
By Greg Delanty
I'm back again scrutinizing the Milky Way
of your ultrasound, scanning the dark
matter, the nothingness, that now the heads say
is chockablock with quarks & squarks,
gravitons & gravitini, photons & photinos. Our sprout,
who art there inside the spacecraft
of your ma, the time capsule of this printout,
hurling & whirling towards us, it's all daft
on this earth. Our alien who art in the heavens,
our Martian, our little green man, we're anxious
to make contact, to ask questions
about the heavendom you hail from, to discuss
the whole shebang of the beginning & end,
the pre–big bang untime before you forget the why
and lie of thy first place. And, our friend,
to say Welcome, that we mean no harm, we'd die
for you even, that we pray you're not here
to subdue us, that we'd put away
our ray guns, missiles, attitude and share
our world with you, little big head, if only you stay.
I'm back again scrutinizing the Milky Way
of your ultrasound, scanning the dark
matter, the nothingness, that now the heads say
is chockablock with quarks & squarks,
gravitons & gravitini, photons & photinos. Our sprout,
who art there inside the spacecraft
of your ma, the time capsule of this printout,
hurling & whirling towards us, it's all daft
on this earth. Our alien who art in the heavens,
our Martian, our little green man, we're anxious
to make contact, to ask questions
about the heavendom you hail from, to discuss
the whole shebang of the beginning & end,
the pre–big bang untime before you forget the why
and lie of thy first place. And, our friend,
to say Welcome, that we mean no harm, we'd die
for you even, that we pray you're not here
to subdue us, that we'd put away
our ray guns, missiles, attitude and share
our world with you, little big head, if only you stay.
What TDR Sounds Like
Code Organ analyses the content of a web site, and then converts the content to music.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Standing
We are hoping to get one for home in the next few weeks . . . .
New Ride
So we traded in the old rear-facing car seat for a new forward-facing one. According to weight, Annie could have used the old seat for another 6 months but her legs were getting to long and were bunching up against the seat-back.
The uber-logical auntie Critters went with us to pick it the new seat and she knew right away which one we should get - it took me another 30 min to agree with her.
It is so fun to have the little shaver facing forward now!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Quote of the Day
How come those pictographic instructions on hot-air hand dryers never show the little man wiping his hands on his pants?
- unknown
- unknown
When did she become a little girl?
Annie does this now. Whenever she is feeling happy and content and warm and fuzzy, she bundles things under her chin - could be a blanket, a stuffed animal, a stick, or, as in this case, herself.
Cleaning up after the Dog
by Jason Tandon
Pull plastic bag from pocket
and wave it like a flag
or diploma. Make sure many people
congratulate your care
for the community.
Check bag for holes.
Double check.
Inspect stool for odd hues.
Greens, blues, blood.
Evaluate consistency.
You don't want to leave smears
on the sidewalk or grass—no prints.
Getaway must be clean.
Prepare to go in for all of it.
Hold breath.
Grab, clamp, reverse bag, twist, knot, cinch.
Smell hands.
Hold loaded bag high in the air,
assure onlookers that Everything is Okay.
If a cop should cruise by,
his crew cut bristling
in the sun,
hold that bag higher,
so he, too, can salute
your contribution.
The bomb diffused,
the world a little safer, a little cleaner,
will not offend the deep treads
of someone's shoes.
Pull plastic bag from pocket
and wave it like a flag
or diploma. Make sure many people
congratulate your care
for the community.
Check bag for holes.
Double check.
Inspect stool for odd hues.
Greens, blues, blood.
Evaluate consistency.
You don't want to leave smears
on the sidewalk or grass—no prints.
Getaway must be clean.
Prepare to go in for all of it.
Hold breath.
Grab, clamp, reverse bag, twist, knot, cinch.
Smell hands.
Hold loaded bag high in the air,
assure onlookers that Everything is Okay.
If a cop should cruise by,
his crew cut bristling
in the sun,
hold that bag higher,
so he, too, can salute
your contribution.
The bomb diffused,
the world a little safer, a little cleaner,
will not offend the deep treads
of someone's shoes.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Medical Update - 2/16/10 (Part 5)
So what does the medical calendar look like?
Currently: Work on getting a bath chair, wheelchair and stander
June: Follow up with orthopedics regarding Annie's feet
August: Super Duper Clinic where we will have another renal ultrasound, see various Therapists, Orthopedics (for Annie's spine and feet), and Urology
February 2011: Next SD Clinic
Not counting therapy, it is a pretty light schedule!
Of course, the wife is basically taking Annie to 3 therapy sessions a week (possibly soon to be 4) so it is not like we have wiped the calendar clean - but my-oh-my, what a difference a year makes!
Today we are feeling very blessed and very thankful.
GO ANNABELLE!
Thank you for all your prayers and support!
Medical Update - 2/16/10 (Part 4)
I forgot to mention; somewhere in there a representative from San Diego Adaptive Sports came in to tell us about their programs. She was very enthusiastic and said we could start Annie in their sports programs as early as 3 1/2!
Next up was Urology. This is one of the disciplines that is causing us the most anxiety right now. From just about the day Annie was born, we have been encouraged to start cathing her. We have been resistant for a couple of reasons: 1) When pressed, the docs have always admitted that it was not "medically necessary" and 2) We had enough to contend with already.
Which brings me to a whole side note: I want Annabelle to progress in her development at the same pace that typical children do. In other words, if kids start walking at 12 months, i want Annie to have her first set of wheel at 12 months. If kids start potty training at 2 years, I figure we will deal with cathing (if necessary) at the same age.
Of course, all this is subject to medical necessities etc.
It hasn't been easy to stand up to the docs who are such strong advocates of cathing but every step of the way, the wife and I have taken all the available info and made the decision we thought was right for us and our family.
The neurologist came in and confirmed that everything on the ultrasounds "looked great". Kidneys, bladder, the whole works is growing and developing right on schedule. The docs reminded us that he thinks cathing is inevitable but that it was not medically necessary right now.
We decided to revisit the issue at the next SD Clinic in August.
"Well, I'm the last one you have to see today so you guys are free to go", said the doc.
That's when I realized that some of the disciplines had been doubling and tripling up. Instead of 3 Therapy appointments, all three came in at the same time etc.
We were done at 4pm having been given nothing but good news all day!
As the door shut behind the doc, the wife burst into tears out of sheer relief.
We had run the gauntlet and emerged triumphant!
(Picture an oncologist telling a patient that the good news is they got all the cancer and everything looks great - see you in 6 months!)
(to be continued)
Medical Update - 2/16/10 (Part 3)
By now the wife had returned with our coffees and so I caught her up to speed.
Next up was the clinic nurse. She came in to let us know about some changes in the way the clinic was operating etc. She said they had developed a new spreadsheet that would help us track our follow up appointments. So that's good.
The next people we saw were therapists (PT / OT and some other type of "T").
All three came in at once and gave Annie the once over. they had her roll this way and that and lay over here and then over there and sit up etc. Sort of like kicking the tires on a car lot.
We chatted for a few minutes about food going in one end and out the other and sometimes coming out the same way it went in etc. They had tips and pointers on diet and various therapies etc.
And that was that.
By my count we had been through 4 out of 7 visits and it was getting close to 3pm . . .
(to be continued)
Medical Update - 2/16/10 (Part 2)
As neurology was leaving, the coordinating therapist came in with a representative from California Children's Services (aka CCS - formerly known as Crippled Children's Services). CCS is the state program that picks up where our private insurance leaves off.
Here is one example:
The doc asked how things were going and I explained that we were working on getting a bath chair for Annie so she can sit up in the bathtub (currently she does not have enough trunk strength to sit up in the bath on her own so she face-plants in the water). The doc wanted to make sure someone had written a prescription for the chair and I said we had the Rx.
Here is one example:
I explained were also were working on getting a stander but didn't have an Rx for it yet. The doc wrote one on the spot.
Here is one example:
Since as things stand now (pun intended) walking is not part of Annie's future, it would seem odd that she would need a stander. In fact, bone density is largely influenced by weight bearing. If Annie's leg bones do not ever bear weight, they can grow brittle. The standers are designed to lock the knees and hips in place so that they support her body weight.
Here is one example:
Next, I mentioned that we were hoping to get a bonified wheelchair. The doc wrote the Rx on the spot (we have recently learned that they in fact make WC's for children as young as 9 months - wish we would have known that a year ago!)
The CCS gal said we needed to call our Insurance Co. to find out what dealer they covered, then we needed to call the dealer to get the medical codes, then call the Insurance Co. with the codes . . . blah blah blah.
In the end, CCS said they would cover anything our Ins would not. Nice!
And that was that.
(to be continued)
Medical Update - 2/16/10 (Part 1)
Yesterday (Tuesday) was the Spinal Defects Clinic (aka Super Duper Clinic). The wife and I were both sort of surprised at how anxious we were about it. I imagine it is something akin to going in for your 6-month checkup after cancer surgery. Everything seems to be going fine . . . but you never know.
This time we packed HEAVY. A bag of food and snacks for the little one, water for us, laptop, videos, a bag of wee-toys and books, etc.
Our day started in Radiology around 9:30am for abdomen and kidney ultrasounds. Then it was abdominal xrays.
We had an hour or so to kill before the clinic actually started at 11:30 so we hit the cafeteria for an early lunch.
We were the first ones called at 11:30 for the SD clinic and set up camp in exam room one. The last time we were here we didn't get out until 6:30pm so we were bracing ourselves for a loong afternoon.
They have this system at the SD Clinic: Each discipline gets a colored sticker. A week or so before the clinic, someone reviews your chart and affixes all the appropriate colored tags for the Dr's you will be seeing. Every time we have gone to the clinic, the nurse who ushers us in picks up our chart and her eyes go wide when she notices that we have EVERY SINGLE COLOR. On our chart.
"Oh my!" exclaimed the nurse as she took us back. The wife cut her off, "Yeah. We know."
So as I said, we set up camp in exam room one around 11:30 with 7 different colored stickers on our chart. By 1pm we had still not seen a single doctor.
The wife went to the lobby to grab us a couple of coffees and sure enough, the neurologist walked in right after she left.
NEUROLOGY: The doc said everything looks great! The shunt seems to be working just fine, he was very pleased and said he didn't need to see us again for TWO YEARS. Ladies and gentlemen, that's a new record for us. I asked about what appears to be perpetual bruising on Annie's scalp and he explained that to do the third ventriculostomy last year, they had to disrupt blood flow to that portion of her scalp. The discoloration is most likely permanent but but as long as Annie is growing hair, it is nothing to worry about.
So that was that.
(to be continued)
Cause World
I came across this great app for smart phones this morning called Cause World.
You download the app for free, pick a charitable cause from their list and then Cause World gives you a list of participating business in your area.
Just by walking into a participating business and having your phone link to their Wifi system, you earn free "Karma Points". The karma points correspond to actual money that is sent to the cause of your choice.
The $$ comes from fees the participating business pay for joining along with other sponsors.
The next time I am thinking about going out to lunch, I will definitely consider patronizing a local establishment who is participating.
Guy Approved Meatloaf
“Barbeque sauce, liquid smoke, potato chips, and cayenne add flair to this novel interpretation of meatloaf topped with bacon.”
Somebody's Mother
by Mary Dow Brine
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.
The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of 'school let out,'
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.
Nor offered a helping hand to her—
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest lad of all the group;
He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and grey,
And her own dear boy is far away."
"Somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.
The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of 'school let out,'
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.
Nor offered a helping hand to her—
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest lad of all the group;
He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and grey,
And her own dear boy is far away."
"Somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Slow Cooker Thai Peanut Pork
RECIPE HERE
Quote of the Day
The theater filled up; a couple in their thirties sat next to us. No kids. A PSA played instructions on what to do if there’s a fire: walk, do not run, to the exits.
“That’s wrong,” I said to my daughter. “Run as fast as you can, knock people over, and if they get in your way you go for their eyes.”
The woman shot me a look of utter horror.
- Lileks
“That’s wrong,” I said to my daughter. “Run as fast as you can, knock people over, and if they get in your way you go for their eyes.”
The woman shot me a look of utter horror.
- Lileks
Monday, February 15, 2010
Horace Greasley
Horace Greasley, who died on February 4 aged 91, claimed a record unique among Second World War PoWs – that of escaping from his camp more than 200 times only to creep back into captivity each time.
TEASER:
Sometimes, Greasley reckoned, he made the return journey three or more times a week, depending on whether Rosa's duties among various camps brought her to his vicinity. His persistence in their love affair was not the only testimony to his daring. A wartime photograph shows Heinrich Himmler, head of the SS, inspecting a prison camp and a shirtless skinny PoW close to the fence confronting him.
LINK HERE
TEASER:
Sometimes, Greasley reckoned, he made the return journey three or more times a week, depending on whether Rosa's duties among various camps brought her to his vicinity. His persistence in their love affair was not the only testimony to his daring. A wartime photograph shows Heinrich Himmler, head of the SS, inspecting a prison camp and a shirtless skinny PoW close to the fence confronting him.
LINK HERE
Quote of the Day
Pounded flat as a tin sheet tonight, and short with my daughter, which always gives me pangs of instant regret. Never, ever take out your mood on your family. It’s the easiest thing to do and the least forgivable; they’re the ones to whom you owe your best self. The fact that they’re closest obligates you to be extra careful. Of course, you can’t take out your bad mood on your co-workers; what did they do? (Unless they did something. Even then.) You can yell at the dog, but to him it’s just blah-blah dominance-racket from Mister Alpha. Talk to the paw. You can take it out on strangers, but then you’re abrogating your part in the social compact. You know where this is leading, don’t you? That’s right: the clocktower, with a rifle.
- Lileks
- Lileks
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Quote of the Day
US Airways Customer Service Line: “Your call will be answered in:
One hundred.
Fifty.
Four.
Minutes.”
Multi-Tasking is a Myth
As an Escrow Officer, I was often reminded that men do not have the ability to multi-task.
To which my usual response was: I have never met a woman who could focus on one thing for any length of time (which was usually greeted by stunned silence - maybe they were "multi-tasking")
Of course the argument is bogus - you can only concentrate on one thing at a time - concentrating on multiple things in short bursts is not multi-tasking - it is just shifting your focus in short bursts.
If you don't believe me, you probably have trouble concentrating . . .
She Walks On The Moon
Most of our friends at this point have children. And it's GREAT.
So our conversations are often filled with the trials of parenthood tempered by the achievements of us as parents as well as those of our little ones . . . "Suzie was a colicky baby and cried all the time!!" . . . . "Johnny just ran his first official race and got a medal!" . . . "You have no idea how much harder two kids are than one and three are than two and four are than three . . . ."
On the one hand, it is nice to just have "normal" parent conversations - it reminds me of all the ways that our experience is no different from others and yet from time to time I find I am biting my tongue . . . .
I suppose you could say that we have an "Ace in the hole" when it comes to parental trials and child achievements. We don't trot it out of course (we try not to), but it is sort of the elephant in the room - no matter how hard a friend feels that parenting is or how great their little one's achievement, there is always that unsaid exception that goes along with having an extraordinary child like Annabelle.
As far as I am concerned, my little one WALKS ON THE MOON . . . . pick up the bit around the 3:10 mark . . .
I Walked On The Moon
Confession: When I originally wrote this I was in a very punchy mood - my apologies to those who came across this post before I toned it down a little.
Tomorrow (Tuesday) we will be at Children's Hospital for about 9 hours of Xrays, doctor appointments and ultrasounds. It's all part of our regular 6-12 month visit to the Spinal Defects Clinic (Which we have renamed the "Super Duper Clinic").
Every time we go to something like this I pray that the docs don't come back with "The test results concern me" or "the Xray results aren't what we were hoping for" or some such thing.
I suppose it is weighing on me a little . . .
Happy? Valentine's? Day
Quote of the Day
This week’s weekend cooking is “Feta Cheese and Bacon Stuffed Chicken Breasts”. Beth and I both thought that the recipe was great. I just added an extra strip of bacon to each chicken breast. Beth asked me, “Why do you always have to add more bacon”? I must of gave her the crazy eye, because after she said that she took one step back. Never question a man about his bacon.
Caffeinated Maple-Bacon Lollipops!
LINK HERE
My eyes are getting misty . . .
Give / Get
Disney Land has a promotion this year in which they are giving free tickets to Disney Land or Disney World in exchange for one day of volunteer service at a participating non-profit organization.
Sounds great.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Bacon-Wrapped Turtle Cheese Burgers!
Handmade ground beef patties are topped with sharp cheddar cheese and then wrapped in a bacon weave before the Hebrew Nationals are inserted as the heads, legs and tails.
RECIPE HERE
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Guns
This is a GREAT podcast.
Full disclosure: I would LOVE to own a 40cal pistol but my wife would leave me.
Also, the bit about fist-fights growing up in the Bronx - yeah, my life story in So. Cal. (only we had boxing gloves)
Full disclosure: I would LOVE to own a 40cal pistol but my wife would leave me.
Also, the bit about fist-fights growing up in the Bronx - yeah, my life story in So. Cal. (only we had boxing gloves)
Fatherhood
When I die, bury me with four Duracell AAs in one hand and a tiny screwdriver in the other.
Thus shall I be in death, as I was in life.
- DL
Thus shall I be in death, as I was in life.
- DL
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Quote of the Day
Let us move on, and step out boldly, though it be into the night, and we can scarcely see the way.
~ Charles B. Newcomb
~ Charles B. Newcomb
Quote of the Day
The person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.
~ Chinese proverb
~ Chinese proverb
Friday, February 5, 2010
Quote of the Day
In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.
- Robert Frost
- Robert Frost
Father to the Man
by Tom C. Hunley
The OBGYN said babies almost never
arrive right on their due dates, so
the night before my firstborn was due
to make his debut, I went out with the guys
until a guilt-twinge convinced me to convince them
to leave the sports bar and watch game six
on my 20-inch, rabbit eared, crap TV. After we
arrived, my wife whispered, "My water broke"
as the guys cheered and spilled potato chips
for our little dog to eat up. I can't remember
who was playing whom, but someone got called
for a technical, as the crowd made a noise
that could have been a quick wind, high-fiving
leaf after leaf after leaf. I grabbed our suitcase
and told the guys they cold stay put, but we
were heading for the hospital and the rest of
our lives. No, we're out of here, they said.
Part of me wanted to head out with them,
back to the smell of hot wings and microbrews,
then maybe to a night club full of heavy bass
and perfume, or just into a beater Ford with a full
ash tray, speeding farther and farther into
the night, into nowhere in particular. Instead I walked
my wife to our minivan, held her hand as she
stepped down from the curb, opened her door,
shut the suitcases into the trunk, and
ran right over that part of me, left it
bleeding and limping like a poor, stupid squirrel.
The OBGYN said babies almost never
arrive right on their due dates, so
the night before my firstborn was due
to make his debut, I went out with the guys
until a guilt-twinge convinced me to convince them
to leave the sports bar and watch game six
on my 20-inch, rabbit eared, crap TV. After we
arrived, my wife whispered, "My water broke"
as the guys cheered and spilled potato chips
for our little dog to eat up. I can't remember
who was playing whom, but someone got called
for a technical, as the crowd made a noise
that could have been a quick wind, high-fiving
leaf after leaf after leaf. I grabbed our suitcase
and told the guys they cold stay put, but we
were heading for the hospital and the rest of
our lives. No, we're out of here, they said.
Part of me wanted to head out with them,
back to the smell of hot wings and microbrews,
then maybe to a night club full of heavy bass
and perfume, or just into a beater Ford with a full
ash tray, speeding farther and farther into
the night, into nowhere in particular. Instead I walked
my wife to our minivan, held her hand as she
stepped down from the curb, opened her door,
shut the suitcases into the trunk, and
ran right over that part of me, left it
bleeding and limping like a poor, stupid squirrel.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Grecian Temples
by George Bilgere
Because I'm getting pretty gray at the temples,
which negatively impacts my earning potential
and does not necessarily attract vibrant young women
with their perfumed bosoms to dally with me
on the green hillside,
I go out and buy some Grecian Hair Formula.
And after the whole process, which involves
rubber gloves, a tiny chemistry set,
and perfect timing, I look great.
I look very fresh and virile, full of earning potential.
But when I take my fifteen-year-old beagle
out for his evening walk, the contrast is unfortunate.
Next to me he doesn't look all that great,
with his graying snout, his sort of faded,
worn-out-dog look. It makes me feel old,
walking around with a dog like that.
It's not something a potential employer,
much less a vibrant young woman with a perfumed bosom
would necessarily go for. So I go out
and get some more Grecian Hair Formula—
Light Brown, my beagle's original color.
And after all the rigmarole he looks terrific.
I mean, he's not going to win any friskiness contests,
not at fifteen. But there's a definite visual improvement.
The two of us walk virilely around the block.
The next day a striking young woman at the bookstore
happens to ask me about my parents,
who are, in fact, long dead, due to the effects of age.
They were very old, which causes death.
But having dead old parents does not go
with my virile, intensely fresh new look.
So I say to the woman, my parents are fine.
They love their active lifestyle in San Diego.
You know, windsurfing, jai alai, a still-vibrant sex life.
And while this does not necessarily cause her
to come dally with me on the green hillside, I can tell
it doesn't hurt my chances.
I can see her imagining dinner
with my sparkly, young-seeming mom and dad
at some beachside restaurant
where we would announce our engagement.
Your son has great earning potential,
she'd say to dad, who would take
a gander at her perfumed bosom
and give me a wink, like he used to do
back when he was alive, and vibrant.
Because I'm getting pretty gray at the temples,
which negatively impacts my earning potential
and does not necessarily attract vibrant young women
with their perfumed bosoms to dally with me
on the green hillside,
I go out and buy some Grecian Hair Formula.
And after the whole process, which involves
rubber gloves, a tiny chemistry set,
and perfect timing, I look great.
I look very fresh and virile, full of earning potential.
But when I take my fifteen-year-old beagle
out for his evening walk, the contrast is unfortunate.
Next to me he doesn't look all that great,
with his graying snout, his sort of faded,
worn-out-dog look. It makes me feel old,
walking around with a dog like that.
It's not something a potential employer,
much less a vibrant young woman with a perfumed bosom
would necessarily go for. So I go out
and get some more Grecian Hair Formula—
Light Brown, my beagle's original color.
And after all the rigmarole he looks terrific.
I mean, he's not going to win any friskiness contests,
not at fifteen. But there's a definite visual improvement.
The two of us walk virilely around the block.
The next day a striking young woman at the bookstore
happens to ask me about my parents,
who are, in fact, long dead, due to the effects of age.
They were very old, which causes death.
But having dead old parents does not go
with my virile, intensely fresh new look.
So I say to the woman, my parents are fine.
They love their active lifestyle in San Diego.
You know, windsurfing, jai alai, a still-vibrant sex life.
And while this does not necessarily cause her
to come dally with me on the green hillside, I can tell
it doesn't hurt my chances.
I can see her imagining dinner
with my sparkly, young-seeming mom and dad
at some beachside restaurant
where we would announce our engagement.
Your son has great earning potential,
she'd say to dad, who would take
a gander at her perfumed bosom
and give me a wink, like he used to do
back when he was alive, and vibrant.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Flower
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.
To and fro they went
Thro' my garden bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.
Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.
Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
"Splendid is the flower!"
Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.
And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.
Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.
To and fro they went
Thro' my garden bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.
Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.
Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
"Splendid is the flower!"
Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.
And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.
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