Monday, December 30, 2013

Sophisticated Mice...

So, I've been wearing out the new album by Steam Powered Giraffe that came out a couple weeks ago. I made DG listen to the "Fancy Shoes" (amateur video from a concert last month) song where this line happens: "Let me tell you a story to clarify the matter: once upon a time, a mouse put on some shoes..." (it happens about 2 minutes 40 seconds into that video) ***EDITED JUNE 6, 2014*** Steam Powered Giraffe released a video for "Fancy Shoes"

This morning, he was walking to the kitchen (6 AM, he just got up) and that song was playing on my computer (you can wear out a digital album, right? I have the actual CD just in case). I said: "Oh, he doesn't even know..."

DG: "Know what?"

I backed the song up and replayed that line and said: "How often does that happen? Apparently every time I listen to this song."

DG: "Oh, he doesn't even know. They got four feet. They gotta put shoes on twice every day."

He went into the kitchen and came back out and said: "Unless its a sophisticated mouse. Then he walks on two legs and he only needs one pair of shoes."

After I typed all that, I asked: "If a mouse puts on two pairs of shoes, how does he tie the shoes on his little mouse hands?"

He narrowed his eyes, deep in thought and said in monotone: "Velcro."

After a short pause he added: "Slip-ons. The possibilities are endless."

Me: "Not really. I think those possibilities end there."

DG (still in monotone): "You're probably right."

**For your reading pleasure- "Rats, with their little Nike Shoes"**

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

The Treasure Chest...

I haven't kept up my posting very well in the last six weeks. But- I have the best and worst excuse for it. My father passed away suddenly about a week after my previous post. The last thing on my mind was keeping track of the Disabled Guy's words. I did write a fibro blog post about it (here's the link if you want to read it), but let's move quickly onto something better.

The Disabled Guy finished the treasure chest for my sea captains. He went right to work on it shortly after we had the design conversation. And his way of coping when Dad died was to dive into his work. Along with all the stressful stuff that comes along with the death of a family member (especially one we were so close to), DG dragged me out to the Home Depot every time he had to pick up something for the box. It was his way of "helping" me. He doesn't react properly to emotional situations and he did his best to stay out of my way.

Anyway, here are the details and the photos, because I know that's what you want to see. And in case anyone has forgotten- the Disabled Guy is paralyzed on his right side. He has no use of his right hand and he walks with a limp. He can move his right arm, but it isn't much use to him with his completely useless hand. He uses clamps to hold things and sometimes on larger items, he'll ask a human for help (that human is usually me, sometimes our son, depending on the weight of the thing he needs help with). But as human assistance, we're basically glorified clamps.

Some details- the box is made of pine and is lightweight, but very solid. I can lift it easily (and today- the day I took the photos- I'm in a pain flareup and it was still easy to lift). The handles are for lifting garage doors (we talked to someone at Home Depot who makes/installs garage doors) so they're very strong. The hinges aren't as decorative as DG wanted (those were too big to fit on the box). The latch was pure luck- we spotted it as we were leaving the aisle with the hinges. All the hardware is from the Home Depot and not a craft store, so it is good and strong as well as decorative.

"Treasure Chest" for the Towers Game blocks

Front latch

Inside the box

The side with handle

The back with the hinges

The lid opens all the way and lays "flat"

One of the carrying handles

Friday, October 25, 2013

The Disabled Guy prefers just a handshake...

So, most of you all know that I do the renaissance faire thing. I dress in garb and
  I also happen to take a lot of photos while I'm there.

A group of friends- who I refer to collectively as "My Sea Captains"- play a game called Spanish Towers. It is also known as "Sword Point Towers" and "Giant Jenga"... originally, they played with a set of blocks that came in a nice little box with terribly sharp handles and they'd just drag that around from location to location. I'm not entirely sure what prompted the change (something about swords, stabbings, splinters)- but now they have different blocks and no box to cart them around in and it is a little bit of a pain in the ass. That's a lot of blocks and they're not very big blocks, so the odds of losing one or two is pretty good.

Here are a few photos of My Sea Captains and the game of Spanish Towers-


Frobisher has style

My favorite Towers shot from the weekend

You get the idea...

Well, at the most recent Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians, I suggested to my sea captains that I'd ask the Disabled Guy if he could/would make a box for them to tote their blocks around in. And of course, he said he would.

Today, the Disabled Guy started "wondering" about the box he was going to create (and he's got like, six months as they technically don't need it till Janesville Renaissance Faire).  He was asking me dimensions (it happens to be written down- the measurements) and I thought he was confused by how big it had to be. The tower measures 32 inches by 10.5 by 10.5. So, I kept re-explaining it to him.

When you translate English into Stroke English, sometimes it takes a few different tries to get to one the Stroke person can understand. But he finally got it across to me- he was asking if the box had to be a perfectly-shaped rectangle.

DG: "This box... what if I made it look like a treasure chest? You know, with the top [hand gesture] that isn't flat? Rounded on top?"  and he kept making a slightly round-on-top gesture with his hand.

Me: "They would probably love that. They would love it a lot. You know, if you did that, the sea captains would woo you. They would woo you so hard!"

DG: "What does that mean?"

Me: "Woo, you know, like romantically... I have a video where the captains are teaching Andrew how to woo a lady."

DG: "Who is Andrew?"

Me: "That's Anne-Drew. A girl named Kait plays Anne-Drew, Frobisher's ship's boy..."

I could see I was starting to lose him- too many names, too much detail- so I said: "I have a video. C'mere... this is where the sea captains teach Anne-Drew how to woo a lady."

After he saw the video, he chuckled. "Woo a lady... tell 'em a handshake is just fine. They can woo someone else."

For the record, I sent a text to Captain Hawkyns with a very shortened version of that conversation and his reply to the treasure chest was: "Yup, we'd like that a bit."

Unfortunately for Anne-Drew, that means there probably won't be wheels on one end for ease of dragging. But at least it'll look cool, right? And he said he'd make sure the handles don't cut into fingers- he hates hat too.

Oh, and just in case anyone forgot about his box-making skills...

Giant trunk

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Cracker BARREL!

The Disabled Guy has this really annoying habit. Our son once went on a long road trip with him and said he did it every single time they passed a sign. So said Jason: "Do you know how many Cracker Barrels there are between here and North Carolina?"

I'm not positive, but I'd say a lot.

I get treated to this little symphony every time we go... well, anywhere. There's a Cracker Barrel restaurant in the next town. Today, I begged DG to go with me to Madison so I could take a photo of a billboard that two of my photos are on. (those are links, you can click them, we'll wait)... Along the way, we passed a few signs for Cracker Barrel. So, I got to hear the Cracker Barrel Symphony. A lot.

After the fourth time, I said something like: "At least you don't say it when you're alone."

I was met with dead silence. I looked over at him. He had a small, smirk-y smile.

"Oh, God. You say it even when you're alone."

DG: "No... [stifles a snicker]... I don't."

Me: "You do. You actually shout out 'Cracker BARREL' when you're driving some place alone."

DG: "I do not." And then he couldn't stifle his laughter.

Yes. He does. He shouts "Cracker BARREL!" when he's alone in the truck.

And now to give you a taste of it, enjoy this short video of me trying to get him to say it so I could record it and move along in my blog-writing. Enjoy the view of part of the Wall of Awesome.

Also worth noting, while on this trip to and from Madison, he sang along to this song- sang every single word.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Long time, no updates part forty-seven-fifty-two...

I just made that number up. I have no idea how many times I've taken this long of a break. There have been some small updates, in the Facebook group- but other than that, not many long conversations. At least, nothing I'd consider long enough for a blog post.

But that brings us to today.

We have dogs. You all know that. We have a lot of dogs. Five Chihuahuas and a German Shepherd. So, technically, we have three dogs, tops. And, in order of them joining our family, we have: Gypsy (German Shepherd), Luna (Taco Bell Chi), Jasper (Teacup chi), Bruno (result of Luna and Jasper), Gregg (The girl dog with a boy name) and Beefy (the chi who went to someone else and then had to come back).

I put a lot of thought into their names- except Gregg and Beefy. I had no hand in naming them. Beefy's name was Tempest for a bit, but Beefy is the name that stuck. And I'd rather call her Houdini, because she's an escape artist.

But I digress.

Today, while we were eating dinner, The Disabled Guy motioned to Jasper and Luna, sleeping on the floor, near him. "You better watch it, I'll sic my beasts on you."

Me: "Beasts? Really?  Beasts?"

He nodded toward Gregg, who was burrowed under the blankets on the sofa. "I got one over here, too. I call her The Sleeper."

Me: "The Sleeper?"

DG: "Yeah. And that's The Mouth."

I pointed out another: "What about that one?"

DG: "That one? That's the Bouncer."  I pointed at another and he said: "That's the Squiggler." And the last one: "That's the Instigator."

So, I now introduce you to the apparent Canine Mafia that lives in our house.

Gregg, aka: The Sleeper.

Gregg the Girl Dog with a Boy Name

Jasper, aka: The Mouth.

Lord Jasper of Cadbury (his full name)

Bruno, aka: The Bouncer.

Handsome Bruno without the flash.

Luna, aka: The Squiggler.

Luna in the "Chihuahua Alert" pose

Beefy Houdini, aka: The Instigator.

Beefy! I want to change her name to Houdini because she's an escape artist

And last, but not least, Gypsy, aka: The Ears.



DG just said: "Gypsy is the Boss. She tells everyone what to do. And Jasper, The Mouth, he always gets into arguments. You know that's true. Never shuts up."

Me: "What about The Bouncer? What's he do? And The Squiggler, what's her thing? The Sleeper?"

After a pause he relied: "I don't know, but when you wake up with a horse's head in bed, you'll know the Mafia was there."

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Piranha, it comes from below.

Today is that all-American holiday and USA network is using that as another excuse for all-day NCIS episodes. I had the TV on while I was blowdrying my hair and the Disabled Guy came into the room. There was a platoon of Marines running on the beach and chanting their cadence. I asked DG if he was having flashbacks (He wasn't a Marine, he was in the Army, but they all do the cadence thing when they're in boot camp). He said he wasn't... and then the half-decomposed corpse of the episode made its appearance.

I said: "Well, that's enough to make you break formation."

DG: "He's had better days."

Ducky (the medical examiner, for those of you under 40 who don't watch the show) was explaining the man's injuries and Dinozzo (one of the agents) said the "This was not a boating accident!" line from "JAWS" (even though Ducky's assessment was that a boat prop had sliced off the corpse's arm).

DG: "It was a Piranha. Left him out there to get all ate up."

Me: "In salt water? Piranhas?"

DG: "Yeah. Piranhas. I saw it... [long pause]... On TV."

Me: "Of course you did."

DG: "PIRANHA! It comes from below. [long pause] And it bites you!"

Me: "I don't think I saw the same thing on TV that you did."

DG: "TV doesn't lie!"

Me: "Oh, sure. That's a real corpse."

DG: "Of course it is."

Me: "I hope they paid the corpse well. Being an extra in a TV show is tough."

DG: "He's not an extra, he's a STAR!"

Me: "He didn't have any lines. He's an extra."

DG: "He had lines. You just couldn't hear him. [lowers voice to squeaky whisper] PIRANHAS DID IT!"

Sunday, June 2, 2013

You ask a simple question...

I can't see the sofa in the living room from where my desk is situated. Our living room and dining room make an L-shaped area that is open. But he's at the other side of the L, around the corner. My desk is in the dining room because its the largest room in the house and even before we had the Internet, I had a desk here with a typewriter (then a small word processor called "Desktop Publisher" made by Brother) because I fancied myself a writer.

Our stairs make a distinctive sound when different people walk down them and I thought I heard him come downstairs. But he didn't say anything. And he didn't change the TV channel. When I'm on the computer, I have the TV on as background noise because without it, the dogs bark at all the outside noises. From the wind, to cars driving by, to a leaf gently brushing against another leaf. So, its on the USA channel with a "Law & Order SVU" marathon on right now.

Me: "Are you down here?"

DG: "Yeah."

Me: "I thought you would have changed the channel."

DG: "Not yet."

Me: "Isn't your race on?" [NASCAR]

DG: "Yes."

Me: "Then why aren't you watching it?"

DG: "It isn't on yet."

Me: "Dude, I just asked you if it was on."

DG: "Oh... [pause] No... [pause]  Not yet."

You had one job, DG.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Textually Speaking, the Oreo NASCAR edition

I love Oreos. A lot. Not so much that it takes over my life or causes me to do silly things with them, like, say... put them in a 365 days photo.

134 of 365+1/3: OH-AR-EE-OH! OREO! [Explored!]

No, that's not weird at all.

Well, today, I took a break from my work (photo editing) and had some Oreos as a snack. Okay, so maybe I had Oreos for lunch. Whatever... don't you judge me, dammit!

Where was I? Oh, the Oreos... Apparently, Oreos is having some kind of contest involving NASCAR and their cookies are imprinted on one side with random NASCAR stuff. So, while I was taking my break from photo editing, I took cell phone photos of the Oreos and sent them, without any explanation, to the Disabled Guy.

Me: "I'm about to dunk Tony Stewart!"

DG: "No! Not Tony! What did he do 2 U?"

Me: "HE'S NEXT!!"

DG: "Run, Newman! RUN!" (Ryan Newman)

DG: "Well, suck my dick, you done ate my drivers!"

DG: "I hope you enjoyed eating them. Meanie."

I told him that they tasted like Oreos and that's all that mattered. So, I went back to work, he went back to watching the race. A few hours after our cookie exchange, DG sent me another text.

DG: "Matt Kenseth won. Tony was down a lap."

Me: "Are you telling me this because I ate the #14 cookie?"

DG: "Yes. U 8 his MOJO!"

Me: "Eww, gross!"

DG: "U did it!!"

Me: "His mojo tasted a lot like an Oreo cookie."

DG: "Whatever it tasted like, you done killed my driver! Boo-hoo-boo-hoo!!!!"

I caused Tony Stewart to lose today's race because of my love for Oreos.

And you know what?

I'd totally do it again.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Textually Speaking, Photography version

For those who don't know, I'm a freelance photographer. And I don't mean that I'm a bored housewife who takes a photo of a lawnchair, throws a sepia filter on it and calls herself an artist and photographer. I'm totally legit in that I get paid to take photos. I've sold some art photos and I have a semi-regular gig doing product photos for a local clothing designer. Product photos are mostly technical and very little art. Now, originally, I'd get a call or email every few months and I'd take photos of three or four shoes. And a few times, I took photos of a few totally wonderful leather jackets. One thing- the shoes are hard to photograph because this designer uses amazing leather that is so soft and beautiful that it doesn't stand up on its own. And the jackets? Oh, my... if I could just wrap up in one forever, I'd be happy, they're that soft.

But I digress...

A couple weeks ago, the call came in for me to drive to Rockford and take photos of "some shoes". That turned out to be 11 products. Six photos per product. This is my usual set up, my makeshift "light box". A roll of "bright white" artist paper, a couple of lights and a table. When I was shooting just a few sandals of darker colors, it was fine. But this last shoot involved not just brown and black, but blue, gold, and several different white sandals.

With all the varying colors, the background changed shades from whitest-white to dark grey. So, I invested in a light tent (just like a "real" photographer would use!). This with three lights should work great...

One light on each side, one over the top, and you get a stark white background and very little Photoshopping is needed.

So, I still had a little bit of an issue with shadows on the bottom, which is no biggie, really... but I decided to see if I could get that floating white background without having to Photoshop (that's referred to as: "in camera"). I found a link that tells how to do it easily with what I've got already (the light tent is a plus) and a sheet of Plexiglas. Now, the person who wrote the blog kept referring to it as "Plexiglas" and "bendable Plexiglas". So, I was wondering if they were thinking of something else and just CALLING it Plexiglas (which is a brand name, like Kleenex and Xerox).

So, I texted the Disabled Guy with: "Is Plexiglas bendy?"

DG: "No. Why?"

Me: "Is there a clear plastic thing that's bendy? Slightly bendy, not fold-in-half bendy. "

DG: "No. What do u need it 4?" (look how good he is with the text speak!)

Me: "I found a way to get the background I need for the product pics & they kept calling it Plexiglass, but it's bendy."

DG: "It does bend."

Me: "You just told me Plexiglas doesn't bend."

DG: "No I didn't."

Me: [forwarded his text back to him with my original question]

DG: "Well, look at that. I guess I did."

Me: "So... can I get this at Home Depot or something?"

DG: "I thought you was asking if I had any. No, I don't. Yes, you can."

So, I need to make a run to Home Depot to get a piece of bendy Plexiglas because apparently, we don't have any at the house.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

There's a new squirrel in the neighborhood...

In case you just found this blog and haven't gone through the YEARS of old posts, here's the story of the
~Squirrel Protection Agency and the Squirrel Bureau of Investigation~


~Part two of the story~

That brings us to a text convo from today:

Me: "There's a new stumpy-tailed squirrel."

DG: "Maybe they're related."

Me: "Maybe he's a witness to another Squirrel Mafia hit."

DG: "It could be. It COULD be. hmmm..."

Me: "His tail isn't AS stumpy as the other one, but it is definitely stumpy."

DG: "Okay. You keep an eye on things there."

Me: "Is that what you would do? Observe and report but not engage?"

DG: "Yes. The birds are narcs."

Me: "That explains why there are so many of them."

DG: "Yeah, and the bunnies."

Me: "What about the little chipmunks? [Christine asked]: Are they dealers because they're always saying: 'Izz goo-oood'?"

DG: "Damn, I forgot about them. The bastards."

Me: "I'll watch out for them too. You can't trust them, they're shifty."

Our squirrels don't stick around much when a human comes outside because we also have dogs (and the German Shepherd has actually caught a squirrel before), so if I can, I'll get a photo of the new squirrel. Odds are, it'll run as soon as the door opens, because you never know when Gypsy will conquer the Doorknob.

Sunday, March 17, 2013


All my friends know that I do a 365 self-portrait project. The kids taking notes for the test later will know that I'm about a month into my fourth year (and haven't missed a day yet).

DG doesn't care about my 365. It has become just something I do. He doesn't even acknowledge me when I say: "I gotta do my 365" and then disappear from the room for about a half hour while I take random photos of myself till I get one I like or fits with a theme. He has been in a few, very reluctantly.

Day 65 of Year One

Day 216 of Year Two

Day 238 of Year Three

There are a few others that have him in the background or just his hand in the shot. But the amount of cajoling and nagging it took to get him into those photos was ridiculous. Even now, I say to him: "I need you for my 365- JUST YOUR HAND..." because if I don't say it fast enough, he will whine. Literally whine out: "Oh, man! Why!?"

I've been doing some creative self-portraits in the last few months (Link to Facebook album of the Creative Self-portraits). Some requiring Photoshop special effects. But even when I say: "Hey, look at my 365...", he almost always glances and says, "Okay." and that's that. No feedback, no compliments. I don't talk about the negative stuff related to his disability much, because that's not what this blog is about. But most of the time, we're more like roommates. There's a line between "spouse" and "nurse" that I've had to cross more often than I'd like and there's pretty much no romance. Definitely no passion. Day-to-day, he acts mostly like I'm a piece of furniture till he needs me to do something for him.

Last night, I got a text out of the blue.

"Why don't you wear lipstick? That 365 was hot."

I wasn't sure it was him. He doesn't compliment my photography and he damn sure hasn't called me "hot" in years. So, I told him that lipstick tastes terrible and is messy. And the particular lipstick I wear in my creative 365s is black-red, so it even stains things (all things, actually). It isn't something I'd wear every day even if I did wear lipstick.

We proceeded to have a conversation through text about my 365s, the Photoshop techniques I use to get the color-select effect, "sexy" poses for my 365, and makeup. I had to explain the 365 rules to him because he didn't get the whole "rejected" shot thing. The rules are simple, take a photo of yourself, once a day, every day, for a year. You can only submit one photo a day. But once in a while, my "reject" shots are just as cool or I just like them, so I keep them. I'll use them on Facebook or upload them to Flickr for a different group.

I really don't know why I didn't give up on him when it came to my 365. I don't get feedback around the house. Just online. But in the past year, I've been saying: "Come here and look at this photo" because I've impressed myself and want to share it. Not just 365 photos, but all photos. He begrudgingly gets up and comes to look at the monitor. He'd mutter an "okay" and a few times, he's said "whatever" when I told him how I got the shot or what I did to it in Photoshop.

But last week, I sent him a text and asked if he'd like to see my 365. He said sure. He replied with: "Cool."

And then that random text last night.

"Why don't you wear lipstick. That 365 was hot."

The end of our text conversation last night:

DG: "What's a sexy pose you can do for a 365?"

Me: "I dunno. Anything, really. The one you liked was an accident."

DG: "You should do that. I bet people like that."

Me: "I'm sure some do." There was a long break, so I said: "Did you just ask me to do a sexy 365 for tomorrow?"

DG: "Did I? Okay. I did."

I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm gonna do it.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Textually Speaking 2013 (and, long time, no update...)

DG is down in North Carolina again. We all know that he's got some communication issues. He has trouble expressing his own thoughts and, obviously the basis of this blog, sometimes he'll blurt the absolute wrong word or phrase, resulting in hilarity (mostly). Now, we're closing in on eighteen years since he had his stroke. It is what it is and it isn't going to get better.

That said... his mother talks fast. Really fast. I'm not exaggerating when I compare her to an auctioneer. And, being from North Carolina, she's got a Southern accent. Really fast. Really Southern. She makes almost no effort to change her speaking rate or whatnot when she's talking to DG. Granted, she doesn't live with him like we do, but when he's visiting for an extended period of time, one would think that an effort would be made. (this is actual fact, she also knows this, so it isn't like I'm being a big meanie to point this out).

This is a text conversation that happened yesterday. (all spelling errors are as they are in the text because in texts, he spells phonetically)

DG: "Mom wants a updayed pics of the kids & us."

Me: "Okay. What size?"

[long delay in the reply, partly because he doesn't have a QWERTY keyboard on his phone]

DG: "She would like 1 big pic all 3 kids, 5x7 single the kids & 8x10 of us"

Me: "What about 5x7 of Jason and his girlfriend? Kat and Tyler?" (Jase has been with his girlfriend for over a year now and Kat and Tyler have been together for, I don't know, fifteen years? Three years?).

DG: "Yess she said she would love that."

So, I start looking through my Flickr account because I have a folder there of just "the kids" and I back up most of my stuff there as well as my backup hard drive. I have no recent photos of Kat and Tyler, no recent "studio" shots of the three kids, but I have Jason and his girlfriend and a shot of Christine- from December- and the shot of us from October. So, I tell him this in a text: "Got no recent of Kat and T, none of Kat or Jase alone, no recent group shot of the kids."

Ten minutes later, my phone rings. Fuck that noise, he's calling. Texting ain't gonna happen. He tells me: "Hey, Mom says..." and his voice trails off as his mother talks in the background. Before I could even utter that he should give her the phone, he says: "Here, talk to her yourself."

So, his mom gets on the phone and starts talking. And talking. We work out that I'll upload the photos I do have to Walgreen's and arrange for pickup in their town in North Carolina. I'm not overly thrilled with that, because the one-hour Walgreen's only offers the option of "glossy" finish. Plus, they're hugely overpriced compared to the website I get my photos from now (Adoramapix-dot-com). For example, on Walgreen's website, it costs $1.99 for a glossy 5x7 and it doesn't specify what type of paper they use. At Adoramapix, I can get a Kodak Professional Supra Endura in matte, lustre, glossy, or metallic. And I'm extremely fond of the metallic prints (not to be confused with their Metallic prints, which are actually on metal) because they look bloody sharp. And, I can get a 5x7 in the metallic finish for 84¢. That's CENTS. BUT, I digress...

After I made the proper verbal arrangements with his mom, DG got back on the phone and he did a short, slightly nervous chuckle. "You get all that?"

I replied, "Of course."

DG: "I wasn't gonna be able to text that whole thing."

Me: "I know. It's okay. I got it."

DG: "Crazy."

Me: "A little."

In the time I was talking to his mother, I found the current photos I had and told him of what I did and didn't have, to make sure he knew I didn't have ALL the photos. And we hung up. I then uploaded the four photos I had (one of me and him, one of Jase and his girlfriend, one with Jase, girlfriend, and her daughter[no public photo], and one of Christine- cropped slightly), and texted DG with the pickup time info. When he replied "okay", I told him how pricey Walgreen's was compared to the Adoramapix prices.

DG: "Really? That's stupid."

Me: "I know. I'm glad this isn't one of my art photos."

DG: "They don't like art."

Me: "I know."

DG: "Mom has a coupon."

They ended up getting the $10-something photos for $7-something. So the coupon did come in handy. Even though my photos are bleh on some unknown paper with glossy finish. And as luck would have it, I was able to wrangle the three kids together for a photo shoot on March 26th. And I've got it arranged for Kat and Tyler on the 24th. BUT, since I'm going to need prints for myself and my dad, I'm just going to order them at Adoramapix on good quality paper with a nice finish. Because dammit, my kids deserve pretty pictures.

After it was all over, I asked: "She still doesn't slow down for you?"

DG: "Nope."

Me: "Doesn't even try?"

DG: "Nope."

Me: "How do you listen to her?"

DG: "I don't. lol."

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Precision drops...

Our oldest daughter is moving this week. Well, today, actually. (for those not keeping track, we have three kids- Kat, 23; Jason, 21; and Christine, 19). Kat is moving from where she's lived the last two or so years with her boyfriend, Tyler. They've moved to a town that's actually closer to home than they were before because of Tyler's job. (he's an EMT/firefighter/paramedic/MacGyver/chess prodigy/acrobat/juggler/fire-eater... some of his occupation may be fictionalized for fun). Kat is in college and had no problem transferring (within the University of Wisconsin schools, they have several of them. My other daughter is at a UW school in another town).

Anyway, Kat calls the Disabled Guy this morning and informs him that they didn't get a big enough U-Haul truck and could he please come over with his trailer and truck and help them out. Of course he can. She lived an hour and a half away. So, DG gets dressed and has to unload his trailer so he can then go help her. I was in our room, blowdrying my hair when he came in to tell me about it and change clothes.

Among the explanation of what he was going to do and me sending texts to the girls (because Christine was helping Kat move) about meeting DG at the highway exit so he wouldn't get lost in town, DG tells me he needs to find the lid to his coffee cup. He has a HUGE insulated cup. I mean huge. It holds half a pot of coffee. He's had it for more than ten years, there is no way we can even think about the lid much less find it. So, I logically suggest he needs to use one of the insulated travel mugs we have that are of normal size.

Me: "Just use the one Christine uses for tea."

DG: "It ain't big enough."

Me: "Yours is too big to fit in your truck."

DG: "I don't need it for my truck. I just want to take it outside with me."

Me: "Why do you need a lid for that? Just take it outside with you."

DG: "What about birds?"

Me: "What about them? They're not going to drink- oh, you think they'll poo in your coffee?"

DG: "Shuh-yeah. You don't?"

Me: "I doubt they can fire with that amount of accuracy to land inside a coffee cup, even one as big as yours."

DG: "I had it happen! They done flew right through my window, crapped on the seat and flew out the other side!"

That's allegedly what happened. When we were stationed in Kansas, we had an El Camino (I'm going to skip the discussion that we had where I told him to get a car with a back seat, because eventually we'd have kids, but he got an El Camino. Google it, Kids) and he left the windows open while he was home for lunch. He thinks a bird flew in through the window and out through the other. I think it was more of a gravity plus flight trajectory that resulted in the errant poo on the seat, but whatever...

Me: "You think they can just drop with precision?"

DG: "Don't you know? They're like those Japanese Zeros. They fly down- [he makes a hand gesture to indicate that it is a Japanese fighter jet] and zzcchoooooooom! They drop their load and fly away, laughing at us. It's what they do."

Me: "You think a bird can fly down, drop a load in your coffee cup and fly away?"

DG: "Don't you? Yeah, it could happen."

Me: "No, it couldn't. Unless it was an accident."

DG: "That's what they WANT you to think! But they're always thinkin'. Planning..."

Birds... you can't trust them with an open cup of coffee. Apparently.