*If you don't get the joke in the title, Google "monty python spam", watch the YouTube video, laugh, and be content that you now are "in" on the joke.
Just a quick FYI. I have changed the comments settings so that anonymous comments are no longer allowed.
Looking back, I may have had one, legitimate anonymous comment since I began blogging. In that same time period, I have received 87 spam comments. Granted, Blogger has managed to dump the vast majority of those into the spam toilet preventing you all from being bothered with links to virus and fraud infested websites.
The reason for the change is that I appear to have landed on someone's radar as the spam comment traffic appears to have kicked into high gear in the last month or two.
To those few who read here who do not have Open ID accounts (Blogger, Word Press, etc.) feel free to send me your comments via email at krerick via Google's email service. I'll publish them, but be sure to let me know if you want your name (or a pseudonym) included.
"I DON'T LIKE SPAM!!!!"
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Communication
So, The Queen and M&M have a play date today on the other side of the world from Castle Erickson. Daddy Hawk's office just happens to be on the way from point A to point B. Add to that the fact that The Queen and I are going to be playing volleyball (okay, The Queen is playing...I am doing my retarded labrador retriever imitation) with folks from work tonight, and it just made sense to carpool today.
Daddy Hawk and M&M have a pretty good morning routine going. I get up at 5:30ish (depending on how late I was stupid enough to got to bed) and go take care of immediate needs while trying to prevent certain bodily noises from waking up the entire house. After Daddy Hawk's morning inspection of the porcelain throne, M&M is usually stirring. So, after she gets a clean diaper, she and I head off to the kitchen for her morning cereal bottle (3 parts formula to 1 part rice cereal). After that, I head for the shower and M&M finishes her bottle following which she decides that the back of her eyelids are much more visually stimulating than the pre dawn darkness. Sometime between 7:00 and 8:00, I leave the house to brave traffic.
Adding The Queen to this routine.....changes things....a bit.
We did manage to leave the house (the first time) at around 7:00 this morning which is a pretty good accomplishment in and of itself given that The Queen is not a morning person. However, as The Queen's chariot was warming up we have the following conversation:
The Queen: It's cold [ed. it was 39 degrees with light wind gusts]. Would you go get my gloves?
Me: Where are they?
The Queen: In the closet.
Me: Where in the closet? [ed. it's a fairly large closet mostly stuffed with The Queen's attire]
The Queen: Left side as you walk in the door on the right side.
Me: Up, down, middle?
The Queen: Middle.
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of black, women's gloves in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet. Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Here you go sweetie.
The Queen: Those aren't the right gloves.
Me: Your kidding.
The Queen: No. I wanted the brown gloves. There were three pair sitting there.
Me: You didn't say anything about which pair you wanted? You asked for gloves. I brought you gloves. Me man...one pair gloves.
The Queen: I don't want those.
Me: So, you want me to go back and get you the brown pair, right?
The Queen: Yes, please.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of white mittens with some black design knitted into them and a pair of light tan gloves, not brown mind you...tan, in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet just under where I found the black gloves. I see no brown gloves. She asked for brown gloves. There's NO brown. I decide that she clearly does not want white with black for she said brown and grab the tan pair in the hopes that they are in fact the right pair (given that they are my only remaining option). Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Are these the one's you want?
The Queen: No.
Me: [brow furrowing, dark clouds gathering]
The Queen: I'm just kidding. Yes, those are the ones.
Me: Those are not brown. Those are tan. Barely a shade darker than white.
The Queen: [pointing to a small...tiny really...tag sewn into the glove at the wrist] See, there's some brown.
Me: [putting tan gloves next to brown purse] This is brown...that is tan. You need to use a little more specificity in your communication [ed. there is some delicious irony in this statement...trust me.].
So, anygloves, the drama of the hand warmers is settled, and we merrily trundle off to Starbucks for our poisons of choice (iced tea for me {yes, I know I am weird for drinking iced tea when it is 39 degrees out. I blame my mother} and decaf coffee for her). I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, go into Starbucks, get our drinks, go back outside, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Where's M&M's coat?
Me: [holding up a pink winter coat] Right here.
The Queen: No, the red one with the pink stripe.
Me: Back at the house. Do we need to go get it?
The Queen: Will the pink one be warm enough?
Me: I think so.
The Queen: Well, I don't want to make you late for work.
Me: [suppressing a chuckle] It's okay.
Start the car, head in the general direction of home and work (Starbucks was a mile away from the direct path to work, but there is no Starbucks convenient to my commute until you get almost to the office).
Me: Did you remember to get the foccasia bread [ed. for the play date lunch]?
The Queen: Uhhh...no. I have mommy brain really bad.
We get back to the house. I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, get the foccasia bread and the red coat with the pink stripe, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Did you get M&M's sippy cup with juice?
Me: No. I thought you said the diaper bag was ready.
The Queen: It just dawned on me.
Me: Where is the sippy cup?
The Queen: In the dishwasher [ed. which happens to be dirty because it was not full and I didn't run it last night.].
Me: What kind of juice do you want for her?
The Queen: Apple juice.
Me: Should I warm it up?
The Queen: Yes, please.
[ed. bear in mind that we both have the giggles at this point with The Queen adding sheepishness to her voice and me adding my best droll, long suffering husband voice for effect.]
Me: Anything else?
The Queen: No.
Me: You sure?
The Queen: yes.
Me: [holding up the house keys] It's your turn.
The Queen: I don't want to.
Me: Uh uh. I'm going to sit here and relax and enjoy my tea.
The Queen: I hurt [ed. The Queen has not been feeling well of late dealing with a chronic infection that is resisting our efforts to kill it.].
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, warm up some apple juice, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Believe it or not, I made it to work more or less on time.
Daddy Hawk and M&M have a pretty good morning routine going. I get up at 5:30ish (depending on how late I was stupid enough to got to bed) and go take care of immediate needs while trying to prevent certain bodily noises from waking up the entire house. After Daddy Hawk's morning inspection of the porcelain throne, M&M is usually stirring. So, after she gets a clean diaper, she and I head off to the kitchen for her morning cereal bottle (3 parts formula to 1 part rice cereal). After that, I head for the shower and M&M finishes her bottle following which she decides that the back of her eyelids are much more visually stimulating than the pre dawn darkness. Sometime between 7:00 and 8:00, I leave the house to brave traffic.
Adding The Queen to this routine.....changes things....a bit.
We did manage to leave the house (the first time) at around 7:00 this morning which is a pretty good accomplishment in and of itself given that The Queen is not a morning person. However, as The Queen's chariot was warming up we have the following conversation:
The Queen: It's cold [ed. it was 39 degrees with light wind gusts]. Would you go get my gloves?
Me: Where are they?
The Queen: In the closet.
Me: Where in the closet? [ed. it's a fairly large closet mostly stuffed with The Queen's attire]
The Queen: Left side as you walk in the door on the right side.
Me: Up, down, middle?
The Queen: Middle.
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of black, women's gloves in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet. Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Here you go sweetie.
The Queen: Those aren't the right gloves.
Me: Your kidding.
The Queen: No. I wanted the brown gloves. There were three pair sitting there.
Me: You didn't say anything about which pair you wanted? You asked for gloves. I brought you gloves. Me man...one pair gloves.
The Queen: I don't want those.
Me: So, you want me to go back and get you the brown pair, right?
The Queen: Yes, please.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the master closet and locate a pair of white mittens with some black design knitted into them and a pair of light tan gloves, not brown mind you...tan, in the middle of the shelves on the right side of the left wall as you enter the closet just under where I found the black gloves. I see no brown gloves. She asked for brown gloves. There's NO brown. I decide that she clearly does not want white with black for she said brown and grab the tan pair in the hopes that they are in fact the right pair (given that they are my only remaining option). Turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Me: Are these the one's you want?
The Queen: No.
Me: [brow furrowing, dark clouds gathering]
The Queen: I'm just kidding. Yes, those are the ones.
Me: Those are not brown. Those are tan. Barely a shade darker than white.
The Queen: [pointing to a small...tiny really...tag sewn into the glove at the wrist] See, there's some brown.
Me: [putting tan gloves next to brown purse] This is brown...that is tan. You need to use a little more specificity in your communication [ed. there is some delicious irony in this statement...trust me.].
So, anygloves, the drama of the hand warmers is settled, and we merrily trundle off to Starbucks for our poisons of choice (iced tea for me {yes, I know I am weird for drinking iced tea when it is 39 degrees out. I blame my mother} and decaf coffee for her). I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, go into Starbucks, get our drinks, go back outside, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Where's M&M's coat?
Me: [holding up a pink winter coat] Right here.
The Queen: No, the red one with the pink stripe.
Me: Back at the house. Do we need to go get it?
The Queen: Will the pink one be warm enough?
Me: I think so.
The Queen: Well, I don't want to make you late for work.
Me: [suppressing a chuckle] It's okay.
Start the car, head in the general direction of home and work (Starbucks was a mile away from the direct path to work, but there is no Starbucks convenient to my commute until you get almost to the office).
Me: Did you remember to get the foccasia bread [ed. for the play date lunch]?
The Queen: Uhhh...no. I have mommy brain really bad.
We get back to the house. I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, get the foccasia bread and the red coat with the pink stripe, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
The Queen: Did you get M&M's sippy cup with juice?
Me: No. I thought you said the diaper bag was ready.
The Queen: It just dawned on me.
Me: Where is the sippy cup?
The Queen: In the dishwasher [ed. which happens to be dirty because it was not full and I didn't run it last night.].
Me: What kind of juice do you want for her?
The Queen: Apple juice.
Me: Should I warm it up?
The Queen: Yes, please.
[ed. bear in mind that we both have the giggles at this point with The Queen adding sheepishness to her voice and me adding my best droll, long suffering husband voice for effect.]
Me: Anything else?
The Queen: No.
Me: You sure?
The Queen: yes.
Me: [holding up the house keys] It's your turn.
The Queen: I don't want to.
Me: Uh uh. I'm going to sit here and relax and enjoy my tea.
The Queen: I hurt [ed. The Queen has not been feeling well of late dealing with a chronic infection that is resisting our efforts to kill it.].
Me: Okay.
I get out of the car, shiver a little at the cold and wind, unlock the front door, go to the kitchen, warm up some apple juice, turn out the lights, lock the front door, shiver a little at the cold and the wind and hop back into the chariot.
Believe it or not, I made it to work more or less on time.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
More Cuteness
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| Dear Lord, WHY can she not smell my dirty diaper? |
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| Now, THAT'S a smile! |
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| Is that a baby in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? |
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
At Brigid's Request
Many of you who read here also read Brigid's blog, Home on the Range. If you don't, you have my sincerest condolences for missing out on some seriously good writing, drool worthy recipes and a host of other goodness including some great photography. If you do, you know that her brother is battling cancer and is facing a bone marrow transplant.
Brigid made a simple request a few weeks ago now that we spread the word regarding blood donation. With M&M's adoption followed by the craziness of the week that followed with illness o' plenty, I am just now getting around to fulfilling her request.
If you are not pathologically afraid of needles as I am (thanks to a bad experience at age 6 or so), please consider donating blood. I've given blood exactly two times as an adult and once in high school. Someone needs to pick up the slack for me.
Brigid made a simple request a few weeks ago now that we spread the word regarding blood donation. With M&M's adoption followed by the craziness of the week that followed with illness o' plenty, I am just now getting around to fulfilling her request.
If you are not pathologically afraid of needles as I am (thanks to a bad experience at age 6 or so), please consider donating blood. I've given blood exactly two times as an adult and once in high school. Someone needs to pick up the slack for me.
Daddy Hawk's Advice For M&M
I seem to recall that the gentleman that wrote Life's Little Instruction Book did so for his son as a way of recording his accumulated wisdom so that his son could refer to it when he needed it most. That seems like a really good idea to me, and I think I will just have to shamelessly flatter his work by imitating it. Some of the wisdom I will be sharing here will be familiar to you since there really is nothing new under the sun. I will try to credit sources where known. Feel free to note sources for unattributed wisdom in the comments. This will probably become an ongoing feature. Or it might not. We shall see.
1. Every rule has an exception except the rule that there is an exception to every rule for which there is no exception.
Corollary to 1. An amazing number of people try to justify their own bad decisions or behavior by claiming that they are an exception to the rule.
2. Despite what your momma told you, violence does solve problems. (Company motto - Craft International).
Corollary to 2. The judicious and moderated application of time and bourbon makes most problems seem less important.
3. Immature young people use foul language to come across more like an adult.
Corollary to 3. Adults avoid using foul language so they don't come across as an immature young person.
4. It is better to be judged by 12 than to be carried by 6.
Corollary to 4. Juries are not known for their intelligence or wisdom...they couldn't even get out of jury duty.
5. Keep your eyes on the road, but check the rear view mirror once in a while. You never know what you might see.
6. Life is a long journey. It helps to have a friend or two along for the ride.
7. Never pass up an opportunity to take a nap. You never know when you might need the rest.
1. Every rule has an exception except the rule that there is an exception to every rule for which there is no exception.
Corollary to 1. An amazing number of people try to justify their own bad decisions or behavior by claiming that they are an exception to the rule.
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| A Happy Queen and Her Princess on a Beautiful Day |
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| Did I Mention That I Know Where to Get M&M Her First Rifle? |
Corollary to 2. The judicious and moderated application of time and bourbon makes most problems seem less important.
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| OOOhhhhh....aaaaHHHHH!!! What Problems? I have no idea what you are talking about. |
Corollary to 3. Adults avoid using foul language so they don't come across as an immature young person.
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| Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter |
Corollary to 4. Juries are not known for their intelligence or wisdom...they couldn't even get out of jury duty.
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| This Court has a Rather Broad Interpretation of a Jury of One's Peers. |
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| Fear Not...Mimi Was Holding The Wheel |
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| M&M With a New Friend (courtesy of Mimi) |
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
M&M...A Year (or so) In Pictures, Part 5
No, really dad, Mommy dared me to shoot whipped cream out my nose.
Gazing up in wide wonder...at daddy sitting on the toilet. They warn you about the lack of privacy as a parent, but it never really sinks in until it's gone forever.
Oh, is it time for my close up Mr. Demille?
M&M showing off her new hat courtesy of Auntie My Sister...The Devil. Look familiar? It should. It matches the blanket Auntie MS...TD made for her previously.
That's all the photos fit to share for the moment. There are more locked away on my phone which will be doled out as I sync my phone with the computer. And, it's not like we've stopped taking photos or anything. Rest assured, you all will be able to follow the progress of M&M as she grows from this point forward.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
M&M...A Year (or so) In Pictures, Part 4
Mommy Queen and M&M sharing a hug.
When can I drive a real car Daddy?
No, I'm not posing. What makes you think that?
Spanky uses his laser eyes when cornered.
You can use a carry tray as a stroller seat when necessary.
M&M can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position.
A happy Queen and her princess.
M&M singing in the rain.
Another faceplant. This is her preferred sleeping position.
Now, if I can just reach the pedals, this baby is gone!
Monday, February 4, 2013
M&M...A Year (or so) In Pictures, Part 3
M&M with pucker lips on The Queen's chest.
So, what can I do for you?
Sleeping in the sun with a rose in her "hair".
Snoozing on the quilt made special for her by great, great auntie Kay.
Are you lookin' at me?
M&M snuggled against The Queen wrapped in the blanket made special for her by Auntie My Sister...The Devil.
M&M has lunch with Daddy Hawk. I love the look on her face.
Asleep in My Sister...The Devil's arms.
Faceplant.
Om nom nom nom...blanket taste good.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
M&M...A Year (or so) In Pictures, Part 2
Before I proceed with the picture sharing, I thought I'd take a moment to let everyone know that Mini Me and The Banshee have moved on to another foster home. It was not exactly the outcome we wanted; but, unfortunately, it was the outcome that became necessary.
As I mentioned in the omnibus M&M post, I came down with a viral infection a couple of days before adoption day. Well, M&M and The Queen must have thought that was great fun because they both followed suit with viral infections of their own leaving Daddy Hawk to attempt to care for a household of two sick people, two infants, a five year old, himself and a job. Let's just say that one or more of those responsibilities began to suffer.
SOS' to Mimi and Grandpaw were sent out and some help was received. Unfortunately, they both have commitments that prevented their full time help. The Queen and I had already decided that we would be getting out of the foster parenting business after we adopted M&M. These turn of events just hastened the decision to transition Mini Me and The Banshee to another home. We had hoped to see them through their return to their parents. Unfortunately, the parents had dragged their feet too long and there was still no end in sight for their situation.
Mini Me took the move well. I think he understood even if he didn't particularly agree with it. The Banshee will probably not remember in the long run, but she gave me a haunting look of desperation when I put her in her new foster mom's car. It was as if she was pleading with me not to abandon her. Nothing could be further from the truth, but it was not a pleasant memory to end on.
We will be seeing them again as we have promised some furniture to the parents when they get a place.
Without further adieu, we now return to our scheduled programming...
One of my favorite ways to nap now. M&M's too apparently.
Spanky continuing his efforts to investigate this creature that consumes his humans' time.
The Queen snuggling with M&M.
The Queen, Spank and M&M enjoying some quality snuggle time.
This is one of my favorite photos of M&M. It was the cover photo on my iPad for many months until replaced by another.
M&M attempts to use the force. These are not the droids you are looking for.
M&M sacks out on The Queen during church.
Another favorite of mine. I love the lighting in this picture.
Fresh from bath time.
Oma and M&M.
As I mentioned in the omnibus M&M post, I came down with a viral infection a couple of days before adoption day. Well, M&M and The Queen must have thought that was great fun because they both followed suit with viral infections of their own leaving Daddy Hawk to attempt to care for a household of two sick people, two infants, a five year old, himself and a job. Let's just say that one or more of those responsibilities began to suffer.
SOS' to Mimi and Grandpaw were sent out and some help was received. Unfortunately, they both have commitments that prevented their full time help. The Queen and I had already decided that we would be getting out of the foster parenting business after we adopted M&M. These turn of events just hastened the decision to transition Mini Me and The Banshee to another home. We had hoped to see them through their return to their parents. Unfortunately, the parents had dragged their feet too long and there was still no end in sight for their situation.
Mini Me took the move well. I think he understood even if he didn't particularly agree with it. The Banshee will probably not remember in the long run, but she gave me a haunting look of desperation when I put her in her new foster mom's car. It was as if she was pleading with me not to abandon her. Nothing could be further from the truth, but it was not a pleasant memory to end on.
We will be seeing them again as we have promised some furniture to the parents when they get a place.
Without further adieu, we now return to our scheduled programming...
One of my favorite ways to nap now. M&M's too apparently.
Spanky continuing his efforts to investigate this creature that consumes his humans' time.
The Queen snuggling with M&M.
The Queen, Spank and M&M enjoying some quality snuggle time.
This is one of my favorite photos of M&M. It was the cover photo on my iPad for many months until replaced by another.
M&M attempts to use the force. These are not the droids you are looking for.
M&M sacks out on The Queen during church.
Another favorite of mine. I love the lighting in this picture.
Fresh from bath time.
Oma and M&M.
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