2 weeks ago today, Boy 2 and I did some shopping in Willmar. I'd decided I was tired of my little chest freezer that always seemed to have something at the bottom that I'd long since forgotten about - and was way past expiration. Plus, I'd purchased a quarter of beef and it was supposed to be ready by the following Monday, and I didn't have enough room in my little freezer to even squeeze in a 1/2 gallon container of ice cream.
The mission for the trip was to bring home a standing freezer. A large one.
Now, I'm the type of person who likes to do a bit of looking around before I make my purchase. However, I'm not the type of person who wants to wait for something to be shipped to me. So, trailer in tow, we went to Willmar.
If you haven't felt the need to wander through the appliance sections of the stores in your area, you may not have noticed some "alterations" have been made to the functions of the new appliances that differ from what you are currently using.
For example, I'll start with something small...like my toaster.
My new toaster has push button technology and a digital display for the setting.
I really don't see how this is an advancement over the dial type of toaster that we all grew up with. However, I had moved, and I'd forgotten I'd wrapped my last toaster up in several layers of plastic bags and put it inside my tool chest - so I thought I needed a toaster. (Plus, this one was a Herberger's Home Store toaster that started out at $100 and was over half off, and I thought it would be amusing to call those male friends of mine who would in NO WAY care about this news, and tell them I'd just bought a $100 toaster. As anticipated, they mostly simply responded to this news with "You're a gay bitch." so it was worth the effort.)
When I purchased the house, I needed to replace the washer and dryer. For these, I decided to go with LG front-loaders. For an additional $400 I could have gotten a set in red that had touch screen programming, but I thought that was a little unnecessary - the digital displays and push buttons were enough.
I've been very happy with the LG set as they have a few thousand features a signifant other could use if a significant other was present, and yet are still able to be run by a Single guy. (A single guy or his 12 and 14-year-old sons, all of who just throw the clothes in, add some liquids where the liquids go, close the door, and press the start button.)
Now and then, the boys will empty the dryer into a laundry basket and then get sidetracked by a video game. (For clarification, "Now and then" is interchangeable with "Nearly every time I ask them to fold the clothes".) The washing machine has a steam feature that works out wrinkles. This is handy.
The dryer came with a shelf that can be added to be used for sweaters. I haven't used if for that purpose yet, but have found it most helpful for drying soggy kid shoes without having the noise you'd get if they were rolling around and beating against the inside of the dryer. (The shoes. Not the kids. They didn't fit.)
But anyway... back to the freezer.
Boy 2 and I stopped at Sears first. (Bonus! There's an attractive girl working there!) They have a freezer there that I liked but not on hand. This goes against my "instant gratification" policy and would necessitate another trip to Willmar with trailer in tow, so we get the freezer specs and move on.
Next we try Home Depot. The dryer and washing machine are from there. The freezer will be placed next to them. Alas, LG doesn't make a standing freezer. Onward.
We try Menard's next. Notta.
Best Buy? Negative. And not the best buy, either.
Local appliance store? Been a local business for many years and very friendly people on hand. They also service what they sell, but I'm not local so am willing to keep looking.
We finally end up getting one at Cullen's, which is fairly new to the town.
It's white instead of stainless, because it's next to a white washer and dryer.
It has a digital temp display on the front and more push button functions so it doesn't look out of place next to the washer and dryer. Plus, it suctions itself shut when you close it for a solid seal, defrosts itself, has lights warning if the door has been left open for more than 5 minutes, and sounds an alarm if has lost power due to a power outage or such.
I like it.
I've been filling it rapidly as school is out now and therefore I can't rely on school lunches to nourish the Growing Boy Creatures. Along with the beef, breads, veggies, and other frozen foods I add 18 half-gallons of various flavors of ice-cream.
There's milk in ice-cream.
And some have fruits and/or nuts.
See?
Nourishment!
So today when I open the door to take out one of the 18 half gallons of ice-cream, I find that D and T have also added to the the freezer.
I find Dairy Queen cups in the door.
LARGE Dairy Queen cups.
Because the 9 gallons of ice-cream in this freezer, along with the 1/2 gallon or so that's in the 'fridge's freezer - and the two Schwan's ice-cream cakes that are still in the little, newly replaced freezer...well, they're just not enough.
So... sigh, shrug, and back to work I go. For work I must. The Powerball thing didn't come through for me, and my lifelong dream of being the crazy guy that drives around town in a street sweeper must be put on hold.
And I still want to replace the 'fridge.
And stove.
And microwave...
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Cat
I never thought that I'd have a house cat, because I've never enjoyed cleaning the house.
One day I was sent a text message from a friend of mine (moving to Rochester) asking, "Do your kids want a snake?"
Well, yeah. If given the choice - they'd probably take the snake.
Me? Not so much. I don't think of snakes as pets. I think of them as rodent and insect control, or the source of occasional amusement when they decide to strike when there's a spinning lawn mower blade above them. If you've never had the experience of dicing a striking snake with a lawn mower, the mental image I'll provide for you is...ChunkChunkChunkChunk!
But anyway, I declined the offer of the snake.
I sent back, "Maybe a cat."
Well, besides the snake and dogs and whatever other critters she had, she also had cats. Their names were "Shitty" and "Dangit". (For some reason, I just now realized that I never asked what she named the other critters. Bummer.)
I ended up with "Dangit". I've since changed the name up a bit. His whole name now is "Dangit MuhMow Wampus". The MuhMow is the sound he makes when he meows, and the last chunk is a shortened version of kittiwampus.
Kitty. Wampus.
See?
Yes?
Whatever.
He doesn't respond to any part of that, or "Here kitty kitty kitty", or anything else I've tried. I'm sure he understands me and chooses to just ignore me, because he definately responds to "GET OFF THE TABLE!"
I have to say, besides that he's a living creature and therefore needs to be fed and needs a litterbox, he's a great cat. He was declawed and "fixed" already, so there was no expense besides picking up a few things that a catless house needs. He doesn't seem to shed at all when compared to any of the farm cats we had when I was a kid, so I've been very pleased, indeed!
Well, Dangit is a house cat. There is no arguing this during the winter, as I don't think he stepped outside even once for the cold months. Now that the temps are back up he's been more inclined to go outside and take care of whatever business house cats have when they go outside.
I asked the kids if they'd ever paid attention to what he does when they let him out.
Nope. They hadn't.
So yesterday, I let him out...and waited.
Sure enough, a fluffy orange cat emerged from the trees next to the patio and slowly approached the house. I'd seen this cat once or twice before.
I call him, "Phukwit". (I'd bet my neighbors don't appreciate this, but they have dogs. Their dogs are stupid. I like dogs, so when I say these dogs are stupid, I mean that they really are stupid dogs. If they can love their stupid dogs they can tolerate whatever name I give the stray cats.)
Anyway, Dangit looks at Phukwit, but rather than wait for the orange cat, he ducks around the corner of the house. I continue to wait and I here him sort of meowing. I can't describe it, but I know there's more of this type of meowing than he can do by himself, so I peek around the corner.
Sure enough, there's Dangit in deep cat plotting with this all black fiend. They're facing each other and I sense they're very much able to understand the noises the other is making. Because of that sound, I've decided to call the black fiend, "WhineyBitch".
I wasn't able to stick around any longer to see if any other "Cat Bosses" were able to gather for this meeting. But, I'm pleased to announce that I have the "popular" cat in the neighborhood. If not that, it appears he's currently the ringleader!
One day I was sent a text message from a friend of mine (moving to Rochester) asking, "Do your kids want a snake?"
Well, yeah. If given the choice - they'd probably take the snake.
Me? Not so much. I don't think of snakes as pets. I think of them as rodent and insect control, or the source of occasional amusement when they decide to strike when there's a spinning lawn mower blade above them. If you've never had the experience of dicing a striking snake with a lawn mower, the mental image I'll provide for you is...ChunkChunkChunkChunk!
But anyway, I declined the offer of the snake.
I sent back, "Maybe a cat."
Well, besides the snake and dogs and whatever other critters she had, she also had cats. Their names were "Shitty" and "Dangit". (For some reason, I just now realized that I never asked what she named the other critters. Bummer.)
I ended up with "Dangit". I've since changed the name up a bit. His whole name now is "Dangit MuhMow Wampus". The MuhMow is the sound he makes when he meows, and the last chunk is a shortened version of kittiwampus.
Kitty. Wampus.
See?
Yes?
Whatever.
He doesn't respond to any part of that, or "Here kitty kitty kitty", or anything else I've tried. I'm sure he understands me and chooses to just ignore me, because he definately responds to "GET OFF THE TABLE!"
I have to say, besides that he's a living creature and therefore needs to be fed and needs a litterbox, he's a great cat. He was declawed and "fixed" already, so there was no expense besides picking up a few things that a catless house needs. He doesn't seem to shed at all when compared to any of the farm cats we had when I was a kid, so I've been very pleased, indeed!
Well, Dangit is a house cat. There is no arguing this during the winter, as I don't think he stepped outside even once for the cold months. Now that the temps are back up he's been more inclined to go outside and take care of whatever business house cats have when they go outside.
I asked the kids if they'd ever paid attention to what he does when they let him out.
Nope. They hadn't.
So yesterday, I let him out...and waited.
Sure enough, a fluffy orange cat emerged from the trees next to the patio and slowly approached the house. I'd seen this cat once or twice before.
I call him, "Phukwit". (I'd bet my neighbors don't appreciate this, but they have dogs. Their dogs are stupid. I like dogs, so when I say these dogs are stupid, I mean that they really are stupid dogs. If they can love their stupid dogs they can tolerate whatever name I give the stray cats.)
Anyway, Dangit looks at Phukwit, but rather than wait for the orange cat, he ducks around the corner of the house. I continue to wait and I here him sort of meowing. I can't describe it, but I know there's more of this type of meowing than he can do by himself, so I peek around the corner.
Sure enough, there's Dangit in deep cat plotting with this all black fiend. They're facing each other and I sense they're very much able to understand the noises the other is making. Because of that sound, I've decided to call the black fiend, "WhineyBitch".
I wasn't able to stick around any longer to see if any other "Cat Bosses" were able to gather for this meeting. But, I'm pleased to announce that I have the "popular" cat in the neighborhood. If not that, it appears he's currently the ringleader!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Classified Ad
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Disclaimer: This offer not available in areas where prohibited... unless you enclose money. Larger amounts are available for pickup.
I have what you need!
Harvested for the 2009 planting season, a fresh batch of fluffy white Minnesota dandelion seeds!
Guaranteed to take over an untreated lawn in just one season!
For your FREE seeds, just send a SASE!
Or call now! Yes! Now! Operators are standing by!
Disclaimer: This offer not available in areas where prohibited... unless you enclose money. Larger amounts are available for pickup.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Microwave Mishap
We play a lot of pranks on each other at Job 2.
It keeps things interesting.
Perhaps we occasionally take it a bit far, and I strongly suspect that this is what may have happened (at my expense) today.
But then again, maybe I accidently DID set the microwave to 55:00 and not 5:50 when I was nuking my pot pie. I can't be certain.
I guess what makes me suspicious that "foul play" was involved is that yesterday, when my co-worker was making his lunch, every time he walked away from the microwave I shut if off.
Well, there's that...and that I kept putting his totes away after he took them out, and that I sent his clipboard down the belt once or twice when his back was turned, and maybe that I'd set up his empty totes so that they weren't stacked right and would fall over when he pushed them, or possibly it was the incredibly large, creepy, living black bug I put in one of his totes (and later pretended to have put in his work gloves), or he could've been holding an unfounded grudge from when I hot-glue-gunned his papers together, or taped them to the desk so that they'd rip in half when he picked them up, or... ???
:)
At any rate, 25:30 minutes of pot pie nukage creates an incredible amount of smoke, does a fair job of incinerating the microwaveable box and it's contents, melts the little plastic thingy in the center of the oven (the thing that the plate locks onto for spinning), turns the inside of the microwave an unattractive and non-reversible shade of brown, permanently burns the plate with the shape of what was being microwaved, heats the plate to such a high temp that it still melts the "grippies" off of work gloves 10 minutes after the microwave has been shut off...and creates an awkward situation when dealing with the immediate supervisor.
I really have to hand it to the immediate supervisor on this one. He tolerated the situation incredibly well, and seemed to be mostly concerned about the smoke. This, most likely, due to the fact that the building's alarms are set up in such away that if the smoke alarm goes off, the fire department is automatically notified.
I'm also quite certain that it didn't escape the immediate supervisor's attention that the two guys working right outside the breakroom were laughing about the smoke billowing from the door and that they made no attempt to stop it.
I need to find another enormous, creepy bug. I wonder how I could make it stay on a locker handle...
It keeps things interesting.
Perhaps we occasionally take it a bit far, and I strongly suspect that this is what may have happened (at my expense) today.
But then again, maybe I accidently DID set the microwave to 55:00 and not 5:50 when I was nuking my pot pie. I can't be certain.
I guess what makes me suspicious that "foul play" was involved is that yesterday, when my co-worker was making his lunch, every time he walked away from the microwave I shut if off.
Well, there's that...and that I kept putting his totes away after he took them out, and that I sent his clipboard down the belt once or twice when his back was turned, and maybe that I'd set up his empty totes so that they weren't stacked right and would fall over when he pushed them, or possibly it was the incredibly large, creepy, living black bug I put in one of his totes (and later pretended to have put in his work gloves), or he could've been holding an unfounded grudge from when I hot-glue-gunned his papers together, or taped them to the desk so that they'd rip in half when he picked them up, or... ???
:)
At any rate, 25:30 minutes of pot pie nukage creates an incredible amount of smoke, does a fair job of incinerating the microwaveable box and it's contents, melts the little plastic thingy in the center of the oven (the thing that the plate locks onto for spinning), turns the inside of the microwave an unattractive and non-reversible shade of brown, permanently burns the plate with the shape of what was being microwaved, heats the plate to such a high temp that it still melts the "grippies" off of work gloves 10 minutes after the microwave has been shut off...and creates an awkward situation when dealing with the immediate supervisor.
I really have to hand it to the immediate supervisor on this one. He tolerated the situation incredibly well, and seemed to be mostly concerned about the smoke. This, most likely, due to the fact that the building's alarms are set up in such away that if the smoke alarm goes off, the fire department is automatically notified.
I'm also quite certain that it didn't escape the immediate supervisor's attention that the two guys working right outside the breakroom were laughing about the smoke billowing from the door and that they made no attempt to stop it.
I need to find another enormous, creepy bug. I wonder how I could make it stay on a locker handle...
Friday, May 15, 2009
Sleepy Time
Ever since the H1N1 virus turned up - or whatever it's being called - the schools here have had us keep kids at home for 1 week from the time any symptoms of illness first occurred. Because of this, Boy 2 (or T - as I will call him today) has been home all week.
He doesn't have the symptoms associated with the swine bit. I would describe the symptoms more like those that occur when a child's non-custodial parent has them for the weekend but is so wrapped up in spending time with the "unemployed-but-has-money-for-cigarettes-boyfriend-in-the-basement" now that she has separated from "unemployed-but-will-pawn-for-cigarette-money-husband", that she just can't find the time to go to the store to get cough syrup.
Wow. It always seems bitter when I read stuff like that back to myself. I better not even mention how the non-custodial parent often seems to think that there is no such thing as a set schedule for sleep for school age children, or that they should probably bathe and brush their teeth at least ONCE during the weekend there. (He typed while wearing a twisted, fiendish...yet satisfied smirk.) Thankfully, they're now old enough to accept their own hygiene burdens.
At any rate, I'm fairly certain that T hasn't slipped off to Mexico, but must admit he doesn't always let me know where he's at. Actually, he's been grounded all week due to this. Lucky week for him to get sick, since he couldn't go anywhere anyway.
Having T at home has actually been really nice...except that he seems to think that when I set the alarm for noon that I actually intend to get up. At noon.
He's a weird kid.
So this week, with much impatience, T has consistently roused me out of bed several hours before I normally would have gotten up.
One afternoon, we potted up a bunch of lilies and hostas and planted 30-some shade plants next to the patio before I had to leave for work.
The following day, he asks if we're planting more. I'm thinking, "Hell no! Lay off me you freaky gardening child!" But I instead tell him that I need to get more pots and that there's some garden-club-plant-sale-thing this weekend, and that we should check that out before getting more bulbs. So then we find other outside things to do.
Today I went to bed at around 6am. He shut the alarm off for me at 9am and then came into my room as if he thought I was going to get up. (On a side note, don't eat a full bag of broccoli-and-cheese just before going to bed if you're getting up within 3 hours. It's just not breakfast material and it sure tries to be.)
So after roughly half an hour of being crawled over, pushed, prodded, poked, and shoved...with occasional instances of having my eyelids pried open and "GET UP, ALREADY!" being vocalized into my ear, I crawled out of bed and got ready for the day. I'd told T to make sure I got up when the alarm went off because I needed to do some shopping in Willmar.
And so shopping we went.
I wish more businesses would adopt the Hy-Vee and Wal-Mart notion of being open 24-7.
I could set my alarm for 2:45pm.
He doesn't have the symptoms associated with the swine bit. I would describe the symptoms more like those that occur when a child's non-custodial parent has them for the weekend but is so wrapped up in spending time with the "unemployed-but-has-money-for-cigarettes-boyfriend-in-the-basement" now that she has separated from "unemployed-but-will-pawn-for-cigarette-money-husband", that she just can't find the time to go to the store to get cough syrup.
Wow. It always seems bitter when I read stuff like that back to myself. I better not even mention how the non-custodial parent often seems to think that there is no such thing as a set schedule for sleep for school age children, or that they should probably bathe and brush their teeth at least ONCE during the weekend there. (He typed while wearing a twisted, fiendish...yet satisfied smirk.) Thankfully, they're now old enough to accept their own hygiene burdens.
At any rate, I'm fairly certain that T hasn't slipped off to Mexico, but must admit he doesn't always let me know where he's at. Actually, he's been grounded all week due to this. Lucky week for him to get sick, since he couldn't go anywhere anyway.
Having T at home has actually been really nice...except that he seems to think that when I set the alarm for noon that I actually intend to get up. At noon.
He's a weird kid.
So this week, with much impatience, T has consistently roused me out of bed several hours before I normally would have gotten up.
One afternoon, we potted up a bunch of lilies and hostas and planted 30-some shade plants next to the patio before I had to leave for work.
The following day, he asks if we're planting more. I'm thinking, "Hell no! Lay off me you freaky gardening child!" But I instead tell him that I need to get more pots and that there's some garden-club-plant-sale-thing this weekend, and that we should check that out before getting more bulbs. So then we find other outside things to do.
Today I went to bed at around 6am. He shut the alarm off for me at 9am and then came into my room as if he thought I was going to get up. (On a side note, don't eat a full bag of broccoli-and-cheese just before going to bed if you're getting up within 3 hours. It's just not breakfast material and it sure tries to be.)
So after roughly half an hour of being crawled over, pushed, prodded, poked, and shoved...with occasional instances of having my eyelids pried open and "GET UP, ALREADY!" being vocalized into my ear, I crawled out of bed and got ready for the day. I'd told T to make sure I got up when the alarm went off because I needed to do some shopping in Willmar.
And so shopping we went.
I wish more businesses would adopt the Hy-Vee and Wal-Mart notion of being open 24-7.
I could set my alarm for 2:45pm.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Sensory Overload
Boy 2 is at his mom's for the weekend.
Boy 1 stayed home as he had a tennis match in S. Dakota last night and has a tennis tournament in Montevideo today. Plus, if the rain doesn't prevent him from doing so, he'll be doing some rock picking for one of my UPS crew that also farms.
If he gets rained out we're going fishing.
Actually, either way we're going fishing. I haven't picked up my license yet, but the fishing season opened a bit less than an hour ago, so that's on my mental "To Do" list. I've decided to do more stuff like that this year.
Whatever.
Anyway, I had to feed the boy and I felt like DQ.
He agreed with me on this, so DQ it was.
We get to DQ and place our order. (Whoa! Just about forgot to order his "plain", but that crisis was averted. *whew!*)
So while we're waiting, the kid who took our order starts humming.
I was thinking to myself, "Hmmm...that sounded an awful lot like..." when sure enough he sings, "Da da da da dahhhhhhh!" (Which would have been followed by "I'm Lovin' It!" if he had continued with the song.)
He realized suddenly what he was singing and stopped. He looked at me and we both laughed as this is the current theme tune to McDonald's that the kid working at DQ is humming.
It got me thinking about how much info we have crammed into us on a daily basis. When I was 14, my "Walkman" either played one complete cassette tape or one CD. Now kids have their handy dandy gadgets that hold several thousand songs plus more. Who really has the time to download SEVERAL. THOUSAND. SONGS?!!!
I've never bought my kids any hand held game systems. I figure they can save game time for those cold winter days when it's better to stay inside.
I was driving down a road in Marshall one beautiful summer afternoon a couple of years back, and within two blocks I passed two separate families who were just getting home from their trips with the parental units getting out of the front and gathering luggage while the kids, with their noses pressed up against the screen of their little hand-held games and strongly working up a case of what we used to call "Nintendo Thumb", were getting out of the back.
I wondered if those kids had ever seen a hawk on top of a telephone post...or a sunrise or a sunset reflected off a calm lake...or heard crickets in the ditches... or fed ducks...or seen smaller birds in flight, chasing larger birds from their nesting area...or seen a shooting star...or caught a frog and wiped the slime on their clothes... or sat and watched the Aurora Borealis on one of those few nights when we see them in MN.
The last one might not be a good example.
I myself haven't seen them since 1998, and I do a lot of night driving.
I have friends and coworkers who want me to call the next time I do see the "Northern Lights" so they can wake up their families and all see it for themselves.
This makes me happy.
I digress.
My kids had a friend over one time that couldn't carry a conversation that didn't involve the video game Halo. Everything the kid said brought any conversation back to that one topic.
"On YouTube there's this really funny video blah blah blah Halo!", for example.
To the best of my knowledge, this particular kid was never invited over again.
I need to remember to thank my kids for this.
I like YouTube. I have yet to think of a song that somebody hasn't put on there. From "Da Da Da" by Trio, to "Ponderous" by 2nU...if I can remember enough of the song I've been able to find it.
Today I was watching the video for "That's not my name" by The Ting Tings when Boy 1 asked me to put on "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus. And so I did.
When I was in college and taking video editing classes, the professor told us to change shots every 4 seconds as that's how long the attention span will stick with one scene during a video. Apparently the attention span has decreased, as there's a part of the Cyrus video that I'd guess has 12 different scenes in a 4 second span.
So...
Today I'm going to Montevideo to watch the boy play tennis. I'm dragging my trailer along and will be hitting any place that looks like it has plants and landscaping blocks and timbers as I have outdoor projects in progress.
Tonight, weather permitting, he'll be picking rock and I'll be building a 16x14 foot box garden behind the "swingy thingy" on the patio - with measuring and cutting and reinforcing and tilling and filling and chainsawing and planting and...
Tomorrow - I'm disconnecting the stereo components. I no longer need the DVD player as the PS2 and PS3 both play those. (Maybe the Wii does, too. I've never checked.) The receiver quit on me a couple of weeks ago so I wasn't surprised when I found the remote yesterday. (The remote's been missing for over a year. It was caught between the leather and a board inside the couch recliner. I had to actually get off the couch to turn the volume up to a nice blare when watching movies. How primitive-neanderthal-ape-man is that?!) And why isn't there something I can press that makes the remote vibrate? or my glasses beep? or my phone ring? or whatever tool I just set set down - somewhere other than where I thought I had - to rattle so I can find it? I don't have time to look for these things! I have 11 other things to see in the next 3.75 seconds!
Deep breath...exhale.
Yup. We're going fishing.
Boy 1 stayed home as he had a tennis match in S. Dakota last night and has a tennis tournament in Montevideo today. Plus, if the rain doesn't prevent him from doing so, he'll be doing some rock picking for one of my UPS crew that also farms.
If he gets rained out we're going fishing.
Actually, either way we're going fishing. I haven't picked up my license yet, but the fishing season opened a bit less than an hour ago, so that's on my mental "To Do" list. I've decided to do more stuff like that this year.
Whatever.
Anyway, I had to feed the boy and I felt like DQ.
He agreed with me on this, so DQ it was.
We get to DQ and place our order. (Whoa! Just about forgot to order his "plain", but that crisis was averted. *whew!*)
So while we're waiting, the kid who took our order starts humming.
I was thinking to myself, "Hmmm...that sounded an awful lot like..." when sure enough he sings, "Da da da da dahhhhhhh!" (Which would have been followed by "I'm Lovin' It!" if he had continued with the song.)
He realized suddenly what he was singing and stopped. He looked at me and we both laughed as this is the current theme tune to McDonald's that the kid working at DQ is humming.
It got me thinking about how much info we have crammed into us on a daily basis. When I was 14, my "Walkman" either played one complete cassette tape or one CD. Now kids have their handy dandy gadgets that hold several thousand songs plus more. Who really has the time to download SEVERAL. THOUSAND. SONGS?!!!
I've never bought my kids any hand held game systems. I figure they can save game time for those cold winter days when it's better to stay inside.
I was driving down a road in Marshall one beautiful summer afternoon a couple of years back, and within two blocks I passed two separate families who were just getting home from their trips with the parental units getting out of the front and gathering luggage while the kids, with their noses pressed up against the screen of their little hand-held games and strongly working up a case of what we used to call "Nintendo Thumb", were getting out of the back.
I wondered if those kids had ever seen a hawk on top of a telephone post...or a sunrise or a sunset reflected off a calm lake...or heard crickets in the ditches... or fed ducks...or seen smaller birds in flight, chasing larger birds from their nesting area...or seen a shooting star...or caught a frog and wiped the slime on their clothes... or sat and watched the Aurora Borealis on one of those few nights when we see them in MN.
The last one might not be a good example.
I myself haven't seen them since 1998, and I do a lot of night driving.
I have friends and coworkers who want me to call the next time I do see the "Northern Lights" so they can wake up their families and all see it for themselves.
This makes me happy.
I digress.
My kids had a friend over one time that couldn't carry a conversation that didn't involve the video game Halo. Everything the kid said brought any conversation back to that one topic.
"On YouTube there's this really funny video blah blah blah Halo!", for example.
To the best of my knowledge, this particular kid was never invited over again.
I need to remember to thank my kids for this.
I like YouTube. I have yet to think of a song that somebody hasn't put on there. From "Da Da Da" by Trio, to "Ponderous" by 2nU...if I can remember enough of the song I've been able to find it.
Today I was watching the video for "That's not my name" by The Ting Tings when Boy 1 asked me to put on "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus. And so I did.
When I was in college and taking video editing classes, the professor told us to change shots every 4 seconds as that's how long the attention span will stick with one scene during a video. Apparently the attention span has decreased, as there's a part of the Cyrus video that I'd guess has 12 different scenes in a 4 second span.
So...
Today I'm going to Montevideo to watch the boy play tennis. I'm dragging my trailer along and will be hitting any place that looks like it has plants and landscaping blocks and timbers as I have outdoor projects in progress.
Tonight, weather permitting, he'll be picking rock and I'll be building a 16x14 foot box garden behind the "swingy thingy" on the patio - with measuring and cutting and reinforcing and tilling and filling and chainsawing and planting and...
Tomorrow - I'm disconnecting the stereo components. I no longer need the DVD player as the PS2 and PS3 both play those. (Maybe the Wii does, too. I've never checked.) The receiver quit on me a couple of weeks ago so I wasn't surprised when I found the remote yesterday. (The remote's been missing for over a year. It was caught between the leather and a board inside the couch recliner. I had to actually get off the couch to turn the volume up to a nice blare when watching movies. How primitive-neanderthal-ape-man is that?!) And why isn't there something I can press that makes the remote vibrate? or my glasses beep? or my phone ring? or whatever tool I just set set down - somewhere other than where I thought I had - to rattle so I can find it? I don't have time to look for these things! I have 11 other things to see in the next 3.75 seconds!
Deep breath...exhale.
Yup. We're going fishing.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Tennis
I got home at decent time this morning, even with the detour on Hwy 23. I decided to watch "The Incredibles" and wait for the alarm to go off so I could see the boys off to school.
They wake up, get ready, and are off to school - or so I think. I'm getting back to the movie when Boy 1 comes back in the room and asks me put the clothes in the dryer.
I ask him, "Why don't you just put them in?"
He says, "I just put them in the washer. I have a game tonight and my tennis clothes are in there. And pictures are today. OH! Pictures!"
Then he wanders off to get the picture order form that he's had all weekend but has decided to not give to me until 5 minutes before school the day of.
So I continue to watch the movie until it's done, and wait another 19 minutes so that the washing machine finishes the cycle. After all, it's not like I really need to sleep. I only worked 13 hours last night.
After school, Boy 1 pops in to the bedroom and asks if I wanted any pictures.
Yes. Of course I want pictures.
He asks, "Did you call mom?"
I said, "No. She still owes me over $200 for the school pictures, basketball pictures, newspapers, etc. But you can call her if you want."
So he does.
She asks him, "What are the (package) options?"
He repeats the question to me.
I answer, "She either gives me some money or she doesn't get pictures."
He thought I was funny and broke out laughing.
The Granite Falls Tennis Team won tonight. It's the first match that they won as a team in 3 years! Boy 1 and his doubles teammate won their games, too.
A good day in the life of me. And the tennis coach's too, I'd guess!
They wake up, get ready, and are off to school - or so I think. I'm getting back to the movie when Boy 1 comes back in the room and asks me put the clothes in the dryer.
I ask him, "Why don't you just put them in?"
He says, "I just put them in the washer. I have a game tonight and my tennis clothes are in there. And pictures are today. OH! Pictures!"
Then he wanders off to get the picture order form that he's had all weekend but has decided to not give to me until 5 minutes before school the day of.
So I continue to watch the movie until it's done, and wait another 19 minutes so that the washing machine finishes the cycle. After all, it's not like I really need to sleep. I only worked 13 hours last night.
After school, Boy 1 pops in to the bedroom and asks if I wanted any pictures.
Yes. Of course I want pictures.
He asks, "Did you call mom?"
I said, "No. She still owes me over $200 for the school pictures, basketball pictures, newspapers, etc. But you can call her if you want."
So he does.
She asks him, "What are the (package) options?"
He repeats the question to me.
I answer, "She either gives me some money or she doesn't get pictures."
He thought I was funny and broke out laughing.
The Granite Falls Tennis Team won tonight. It's the first match that they won as a team in 3 years! Boy 1 and his doubles teammate won their games, too.
A good day in the life of me. And the tennis coach's too, I'd guess!
Friday, May 1, 2009
The Wise Man
A couple years back, when I was still attending church services other than when someone got married or died, I often heard the phrase, "The wise man built his house on a rock."
I always wondered how he got his house to stay on the rock during a strong wind.
I mean, really - one good Minnesota blizzard and the house is no longer on the rock...it's in a broken heap at the base of the rock, and covered in several feet of snow!
I digress.
It seems to me that the story also told of two other men who chose to build their houses in less favorable locations, and that their houses were ruined by natural forces due to this. (Or was it that the Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed and blew them down? I may be confusing the two stories. I should maybe see if they've done any remodeling at church.)
Anyway, I've made this observation -
I figure that the man who built and owned my house prior to me must have been a wise man, indeed, for my house is not only on a rock - it's protected from the wind on three sides by the rock formation in which it rests, and from flooding for the same reason. The town itself has been hit by a tornado and several floods since I was in college and each time the house escaped damage. I've only been here for a couple of years, and last summer the town was hit by strong winds that toppled MANY large, well established trees. The worst thing at my place was the trampoline got repositioned - with no damage done to it.
On top of that, the house-inspector-guy that came and looked over the house prior to my purchase of it said that houses built in the '60s (as mine was, being around 10 years longer than I have) were built much better than those in the following 2 decades.
So I thank the "feller" who owned the place - for both the wisdom on the location, and the detail in construction.
The house sat empty for several years after his passing. (In case you're wondering...No. He didn't die in the house. This according to a neighbor at the only other house with an address on my little dead end street. I asked him before I bought the house because I didn't want some local kid asking my kids if they were creeped out by living in a house that someone died in.) The house was "fixed up" by his kids for the sale. I noticed where his kids cut corners on the fixing, and it's unfortunate that they didn't share their old man's homeowner skills, or pride, or whatever it is that would cause them to put the trim to the kitchen above the boards in the attic to the garage BEFORE insulating it.
Dumb.
But I gotta admit, these cheap hollow core doors to the bedrooms are going to be fun. The laminate is chipping off the bottoms of them and the kids have already put several cracks and holes in each other's doors. I'm patiently waiting for the day when one of them gets mad and locks ME out so I can bust through and say, "Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!" like Jack does in The Shining.
And then I'll replace the doors with something nice and solid.
I always wondered how he got his house to stay on the rock during a strong wind.
I mean, really - one good Minnesota blizzard and the house is no longer on the rock...it's in a broken heap at the base of the rock, and covered in several feet of snow!
I digress.
It seems to me that the story also told of two other men who chose to build their houses in less favorable locations, and that their houses were ruined by natural forces due to this. (Or was it that the Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed and blew them down? I may be confusing the two stories. I should maybe see if they've done any remodeling at church.)
Anyway, I've made this observation -
I figure that the man who built and owned my house prior to me must have been a wise man, indeed, for my house is not only on a rock - it's protected from the wind on three sides by the rock formation in which it rests, and from flooding for the same reason. The town itself has been hit by a tornado and several floods since I was in college and each time the house escaped damage. I've only been here for a couple of years, and last summer the town was hit by strong winds that toppled MANY large, well established trees. The worst thing at my place was the trampoline got repositioned - with no damage done to it.
On top of that, the house-inspector-guy that came and looked over the house prior to my purchase of it said that houses built in the '60s (as mine was, being around 10 years longer than I have) were built much better than those in the following 2 decades.
So I thank the "feller" who owned the place - for both the wisdom on the location, and the detail in construction.
The house sat empty for several years after his passing. (In case you're wondering...No. He didn't die in the house. This according to a neighbor at the only other house with an address on my little dead end street. I asked him before I bought the house because I didn't want some local kid asking my kids if they were creeped out by living in a house that someone died in.) The house was "fixed up" by his kids for the sale. I noticed where his kids cut corners on the fixing, and it's unfortunate that they didn't share their old man's homeowner skills, or pride, or whatever it is that would cause them to put the trim to the kitchen above the boards in the attic to the garage BEFORE insulating it.
Dumb.
But I gotta admit, these cheap hollow core doors to the bedrooms are going to be fun. The laminate is chipping off the bottoms of them and the kids have already put several cracks and holes in each other's doors. I'm patiently waiting for the day when one of them gets mad and locks ME out so I can bust through and say, "Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!" like Jack does in The Shining.
And then I'll replace the doors with something nice and solid.
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