Friday

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Rats. It happened again. So, lemme recommend Firefox, because when you're in the middle of a post or something, and your computer crashes, or your ignorant self accidentally closes the tab, everything you've typed up to then will be saved. I don't know how they do it -- it must be a live hard drive cache or something, which might be why you need something non-prehistoric to run FF. But come on, all you P4-bians and Athlon-runners, use your megaflops for secure, convenient browsing! Karen's hanging on to IE, i think because i'm such a Firefox fan. Like, i think it was Edward Scissorhands that she avoided seeing for a long time because everyone was raving about it. I think we watched it together, and agreed it was good. But the hype was, indeed, annoying. Ditto Forrest Gump.

And just now, Karen said "OH NO!!!!" and smashed the laptop to bits with her fists (i'm exaggerating) because Internet Explorer lost her whole post. D'oh.


On to more seriousness. My brother Antony has been getting in trouble for years, making poor choices when faced with decisions like a) be involved in spray painting curse words on a cop car or b) don't be involved. So right now he's in detention, which is kind of horrible. I know what they're like, and what the kids are like. Having said that, Antony is the kind of kid the staff members LOVE -- very smart, hard working, pleasant to be around, creative, stuff like that.

But anyway, my mum suggested to Antony that he memorize Psalm 1 while he's there, 'cause it's either that or play Phase 10 on a deck of cards which keep sticking together. So Antony did. And then that Sunday, the chaplain guy went to do a service, and he said "So, do any of you guys know much about Psalm 1?" so Antony was like "Uh, i do..." and he proceeded to recite it. Awesome. And totally God at work.

Cool clip

I don't have anything really to write... but this clip is totally awesome. Seriously. It's awesome.

Probably you've seen it already. It's a battle between some buffalo, some lions, and... well, i don't want to spoil it. But there's nothing which would gross out the squeamish. Unless you have a really good imagination and spend time thinking about what it must have been like to be that little buffalo calf...

Computer Problems

My awesome computer is broken. The power light is going "blink-blink-blink" whenever it's plugged in. Rats.

So i'm using a backup -- in our abject wealth, we are able to own a whole laptop... which someone gave me, but still. So i slapped XP on this baby, and now i'm, you know, typing my blog post. Awesome. The other fun stuff which happened today? The house got cleaner! It's been looking pretty good recently. Karen's done it all... and it's happy happy, joy joy.

If anyone wants to drop by unannounced, and you're offended by the kind of mess normally associated with homes with three kids in them... now's the time!

Support our troops

On the way home from our short walk (what's up with me? Short walk? I'm a long walker, for goodness' sake!) (Hey, how come nobody apostrophizes "goodness sake"?) Houston saw that sign, so he picked it up and started shaking it over his head. Yeah. I don't know where he got that behavior from, but i'm glad the sign didn't say "Death To Kittens!!!" or something unsavory like that. "End Protesting NOW!"

The current war in Iraq is compared to The Vietnam War a lot, because the similarities are kind of obvious. But one of happiest differences is that the US public, even those violently... um... peaceably opposed to the war still believe our troops are being honorable and heroic. Probably the ostracization experienced by returning veterans of Vietnam is something those old enough to remember are very ashamed of. Or maybe still pissed off about if they were the ones coming back.

Do you know anyone who reads the last page of a book before even starting reading it properly? I do. And it mystifies me. But i would really like to skip forward, say, 20 years and see how the issues facing us now turn out. I'm tempted to make predictions, but i can't do that without sounding totally cynical. So i won't.

How i draw

Karla was very complimentary in her comment on last night's post, so i'll try to honor her comment by saying "awww, thanks!" and then put some of smack down on her for saying she's not a "good artist". Smack. Down. Karla, you're an excellent artist. I look at your paintings in your house and am totally impressed by your creativity and courage apparent in your paintings. The flowers! In the vases! Awesome. I'm ashamed that i've not gushed more ebulliently about your art that i've seen.

Draftsmanship is something God blessed me with. Plus a knack for understanding machines*, and stuff in space, like, how to represent something three dimensional onto a flat surface. But good draftsmanship does not a good artist make. Witness C.F. Payne. I wouldn't display one of his prints anywhere, even though they're amusing and so well painted it actually makes me laugh. But they're not good art. Good art needs to capture one's imagination, it needs to evoke some deeper response in the audience. So a C.F. Payne print will make me giggle at his skill, and the corner of my mouth might twitch upward in response to whatever witty comment he's making, but that's it. It goes no deeper. In my experience, anyone with sufficient patience can, i repeat in all caps, CAN become an excellent draftsperson. Seriously. Dumb mechanical devices like cameras can do flawless draftsmanship, so however difficult it might be, it's possible for anyone. Perhaps as possible as lining up a single file row of sand grains a mile long... so maybe not realistically possible for some... but.... still possible, in theory.

But Karla's stuff, and my wife Karen's art too, is far more interesting. You guys have got a sense of shape and color which interests the eye, and draws me in for multiple viewings. It's not possible to explain further what i mean without sounding all pretentious... basically, me like pretty pictures. :)



Um, so today we went to a car show slash cruise thing. It was an excuse for men (and the women who love them) to bring their rumbling, highly polished moneysinks into public where they could parade in front of whistling onlookers. Naturally, i loved the Gremlin, the Pacer, the cars for which the original make and model was obscured by extensive modifications (there was a very-not-street-legal purpose built rock climber crackling down the road... no lights, no license plate, no windshield). Then there were the silly cars, the Chevrolet Chevette, which was a pathetic attempt by GM to get in on the compact car market by importing a British built car. It was horrible. But there was one cruising down 28th street with a V8 motor poking out of the hood. Or the cars with serious engines -- the ones with blowers and straight pipes, those were cool. And the asterisk might be relevant here:

*I understand machines. I can hold in my mind the workings of a car engine, and visualize the moving parts and how they work together and why a car, you know, runs. So to draw a car, i just put the parts where they go. If i'm drawing a machine i'm not as familiar with, i have to kind of make up how it might work, and draw that. It boggles my mind a little when i see bicycles drawn where the front wheel wouldn't be able to steer. Why would you draw it that way?

Drawing time

I got to hang out with my family today! And make some food. Then, Karen left me to do bedtime, so we had Drawing Time With Daddy -- and Houston requested a car with three wheels falling off, and all crashed up, and looking real. The result is above, except the original is on green paper, and just black ballpoint pen. Houston wishes the original was that cool. Here's a bigger version. I like drawing.

Houston spent the time assembling little books out of his nature magazine that he gets, and Katrina spent the time marking papers with a pencil, then curling them into a loose tube, taping them shut, and giving them to me as a birthday present. Oh man, what is a sentimental parent supposed to do with that? It's a useless, dull tube of green paper with random pencil marks on it, but Katrina drew it, and decided that it's "Daddy and Katrina on fire" or whatever. And it's a birthday present.

I like Karla's approach, where everything gets tossed. I very very very much like having a computer, with digitized copies of Important Artwork, which get backed up nightly and so on. I suppose the silly tubes (sorry Katrina -- i know you meant well) will get lost, squished, torn and then thrown away... but they'll contribute to Evil Mess in the meantime. Unless i go throw them away right now while she's asleep.....

Interesting?

Today i did more sleeping and being at work than i did anything else. Which is a bummer. But i did get to watch some of KOYAANISQATSI with Houston and Katrina, which was educational and fun as always. Explaining what rockets burn, for instance. It's interesting to me that when Houston asks a question, he'll stare at me, while i explain that the falling ice is from the outsides of the rocket fuel tanks, which are cold because they're filled with liquid hydrogen and oxygen, which need to be very very cold to stay liquid... and even though that's a fairly boring story, and there's a rocket taking off in slow motion on the screen, Houston will watch me.

And tonight, when i was driving home, it was raining. I got some wet. But it's okay because i am dry now.

Office chairs and fixing stuff

I fixed our clothes dryer. It was a "Gas Valve Solenoid Coil Kit" that i needed, a $17.00 part, which took me ten minutes to install. It's been broken for a couple weeks, which wasn't too bad when we had the big clothes dryer in the sky to do our drying, but with Mister Sun taking a vacation of Oregonian proportions, our pile of pleasant smelling clothes is dwindling. In my defense, the only people i talked to about the problem told me that problems like that can be caused by several things, and i could end up spending over a hundred bucks replacing parts. But thanks to this post on that forum, describing my problem precisely, i saved us some money. Yay!

The first Honda we ever owned (besides my XL185 whose brother features in this video) was a '86 Civic hatchback. It had an aluminum engine with the cylinder bores non-sleeved with iron, meaning the hardened steel piston rings scraped against the much softer aluminum every moment the car was running. So those engines, as you can imagine, wore out a lot. Which is weird for a Honda -- usually they're very long lived. But anyway, even before a valve broke and one of the rear brake cylinders exploded and the water pump started leaking and finally seized and the engine overheated and kind of melted... even before all that happened, the starter broke. The car was always incredibly smoky from burning oil in the scraped-up cylinders, and when one of the valves broke i disconnected that cylinder, making the car a three cylinder with a displacement of almost one liter! So i painted on the back window, in big letters, "SLOW AND SMOKEY icky-poo".

Anyway, um, the starter was broken, right? So instead of fixing it, for an entire summer, i push started it everywhere i went. Which was no big deal -- the car was horribly injured, but loved to run. I could push it to walking speed, hop in, put it in gear and drag the clutch with the finesse born of long experience, and it would pop eagerly to life. Finally, one day, i told Karen, "Hey, i think i'll fix my car". She said "What part?" and off i was to the parts store, where i got a starter for about thirty bucks, and half an hour later, i had installed it. And the car started with a simple twist of the key. You know, like most cars do. But it was a fantastic novelty for me to hear that car go "reer-reer-vroom".

And after the water pump had seized one day on the way to work, and i kept driving it with the coolant sitting quiescent in the water jackets, and the motor started knocking and pinging and slowing down, giving in to the death grip of molten metal... i got in it a couple days later and drove it home. Yes, i drove it home. And sold it, asking $200, was offered $175, and accepted $150. But hey, i only paid $250 for it.

My other Honda Civic, which was a generation newer, and a lot more refined mechanically, was the lowest car i'm likely ever to own. It's so low, that the headlights were too low to be sold in the US. So the government changed the headlight height laws. One day i measured how close i was to the floor, sitting in an office chair. Then i measured how low the seat of my Civic was to the pavement. The car seat was lower than the office chair, even with the chair on the lowest setting. I really liked that car. It handled incredibly well.

And finally, my scooter is comfortable. About as comfortable, and as high, as one of those fancy drafting chairs. And since i'm on the scooter, with my legs demurely forward, not straddling a big macho gas tank, the office chair comparison seems inescapable. It's properly shaped for sitting on, just like an office chair. There's even a built in floor for my feet to go. So the fact that i'm rocketing down Division Ave at 45 miles an hour, basically on an office chair... wow. But i take some comfort in the fact that i've never, within memory, fallen off an office chair.

Camping! While wet!

First, i thought i'd append my list of favorite insects (arthropods) to include walking sticks. Karen found one, picked it up, and walked across a road and past two campsites, and then showed it to us. She was wigging out a little, and i was so proud of her! And it was really cool. But that one died. There was another one on a chair or something, which lived longer. Also, i didn't mention cicadas as one of my favorites. They're actually true bugs, too! But nobody cares.

So, the weekend was incredibly wet. It didn't rain for about six hours. The rest of the time it drizzled or downpoured, or somewhere between. So the entire time spent camping was done damp. Damp isn't really very fun. But camping is more fun that dampness isn't, so we still enjoyed ourselves.
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My kids are making jokes with each other.

Houston: Hey Katrina, why did the chicken cross the road?
Katrina: Um, i don't know.
Houston: To eat a bone!
Katrina: Is it raw?
Houston: Yep!
Katrina: Oh my, that's not healthy.
Houston: No! Maybe the chicken will cook the bone and then squish it flat and then eat it.
Katrina: Oh!

Another apple pie

I made two apple pies today. Of course, i tried to speed cook the things, so the apples were still a little crunchy... but the crust and filling stuff were amazing. Um, anyway... i really like peaches. Blueberries are and will continue to be my favorite fruit ever, but a really good ripe peach is kind of lethally delicious. Killa!

Houston and Katrina think it's hilarious to wear my helmet. I went to Dégagé last night with the kids from work, and it was a fantastic experience. The kids and i were volunteers, where we cooked and served food to homeless people. I cooked more than a whole box (of 100, maybe? a gross?) of GFS hamburgers, nearly all of them in the form of double cheeseburgers. As the evening went on, i realized sadly that "lots of calories for not much money" was what this was all about. We loaded on the burgers, the french fries, the mashed potatoes. As a health aware person, i was slightly appalled by the first few plates i saw leaving the kitchen. But the reality is, that homeless people are hungry!

And, two girls i used to work with were there. Homeless. Dang.

Real quick

There's a movie i feel like i was supposed to have watched years ago, and am just tonight going to get around to it. Peter Sellars, who's one of my actor heroes, is in it, and Stanley Kubrik, who directed the enigmatic 2001 A Space Odyssey directed it... Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. Or something like that.

That picture up there is from the car show. There was this totally unremarkable car, i dunno, maybe it was a Plymouth Valiant, with a wrinkly old paint job, and one of the annoying kids i was with said "Take a picture of THAT car!!!" so i pointed my camera right to the hood and snapped a picture of it, just to be a brat. Therapeutic antagonization.

Good playing day!

Today i took the kids from work to a car show, which was cool. Answering "No, a 1981 Camaro can't go 180 miles an hour even though the numbers on the speedometer go up that high" about seventeen times, substituting "Mustang" or "Ford Probe" where appropriate. It was also odd to be explaining things like the difference between panhead and OHV and OHC engines to teenage boys, and have them not care. Totally weird.

But the total highlight of the day was watching Katrina and Houston play together. Zane too, but he's pretty much in the passive or reactionary role. But the kids were amazing. Blueberry picking: Houston would go exploring to find another white flag, which designated where the berries are judged most ready to pick, and then let us find him, while he shook the flat to let us know where he was. Katrina kept picking berries and giving them to me, which thrilled me no end even though i'm a little psychotic about choosing a perfect blend of berries per handful -- ripeness, location on the bush, size, color... she did surprisingly well. She kept a few berries rolling around in Zane's bucket too. Zane impressed me by crawling to the low-hanging berries, and eating them, keeping himself happy for tens of minutes. Our little boy, taking care of his own needs already!

Then, at the store, Zane was perfectly happy to sit in the cart, and Houston and Katrina made astonishing faces at each other, mostly by pulling all the soft tissue of their faces down to near their chins, and saying "Ah! You're a great grandma! You're chasing me!!!" and they'd run circles around me squealing perfect inside squeals. Oh man, they're all so cute.

And my final, less upbeat thought: while working on our garage, i was in earshot of the house directly across the alley. They're a family where "Motherf---" is regular, everyday language. And they yell at each other often and aggressively. As i was talking to our weird neighbor John who also had a scooter, the house next to his was emitting similar cacophony, to the point where John apologized for his neighbor's enraged sounding outbursts. "He's like this all the time" John said. Both households are black, and both also feature gangsta rap and full size SUVs with very large, showy rims.

I look at those houses, and think how chaotic and frightening -- horrible -- they must be. So much anger and distrust. And i wonder what they think when they look at us. I pray that they don't see repressed socially ignorant White America. I hope they see Christ. And saying that, i realize that it's up to me to show them Christ. Dang it. What does Jesus want me to do, bake 'em cookies?

Houston is sick, and yet, i saw a bug.

The bug story today is that i saw a cicada wasp carrying a cicada! It was kind of awesome. Cicadas are big, meaty bugs. It's an impressive feat for them to fly at all, let alone be carried by another insect.

Anyway, Houston was sick today. Like, barf sick. He was acting really sad, wanted me to carry him in from the car, and then was discovered hunching on the sidewalk looking dejected and teary, with a pool of vomit between his feet. And Houston is so great, that he can even make something as inelegant, indeed repulsive as throwing up cute. This is what he did. He looked up at me, answering my commiserations and inquiries with slow nods of his head, and then he looked down and said "I remember eating strawberries."

Grasshopper and stuff.

So you know how in movies, if animals, especially mean looking dogs, really like some character, that means the character is noble, honest and trustworthy in spite of all appearances? Usually a Rottweiler or Pitbull slobbers and licks someone's hand, and the owner says, bemused, "He likes you. He doesn't like anyone."

Well, what does it mean if insects really like a person? Like, you know, with me. Insects like me. Except a wasp stung my back two days ago for some reason. But still, most insects love me. Crickets? Will sit on my hand for minutes without running away. Earwigs -- well, earwigs love everyone unconditionally, but they show it by crawling around everywhere, which freaks most people out. I think earwigs live in constant surprise that people think they're gross. And i like to believe that earwigs are irrationally optimistic, so they're always thinking "Maybe soon everything will change! Everyone will love me!!!" But anyway, today a grasshopper landed on my shirt, so i took video of it. It's a cute grasshopper.

Also today, Houston looked in our compost bucket which had also collected some rain, and was therefore a soupy mix of rotten tomatoes and grossness. The whole thing was a teeming mass of maggots. Houston said, delighted, "Wow! So many worms!" I said "Hmm, those aren't worms, they're maggots. That's the larval stage of flies, so they're basically fly babies." Houston said "Wow," pointing at a fly which had landed on the inside of the bucket, "that's a lucky Momma." Yeah, i dumped the maggot chowder onto our compost pile, and then turned it properly and then added ashes from our Weber kettle grill, so i'm sure the maggots will return to the filth from whence they came without turning into actual adult flies. Because flies are gross. Flies don't like me. I'm not lord of them. Maybe i'd rather be known as Lord of the Crickets and Grasshoppers and Earwigs. Speaking of lords of stuff, yesterday Houston had to go to the bathroom really bad, and started doing the Lord of the Dance step, with the knees in the air and the hands on (or near) the hips. He's the Lord of the Pee Pee Dance.

And here's Zane, Lord of the I-Don't-Want-To-Brush-My-Teeth-Head-Wiggle.

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Right Tool?

I'm kind of busy with the garage. I'm putting in a garage door, and an opener. So far, i've done the job WAY faster than the instruction sheet said, but still, it's been mostly all my spare time yesterday and today. But... yesterday i stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself and said "Let's go to the store now!" Katrina said "No, you can't go like that!" Amazed, i asked her why in the world not, and so she said "Because people might see your bum! And they would be mad! They would be mad because they want to buy presents for their babies!"

Duh.

I really wish i could understand what convolutions in Katrina's thinking let her arrive at a statement like that. Whatever they are, i'm sure they're awesome.

So you know the saying "The Right Tool For The Job"? Yeah, it's a bunch of hogwash. I've always been of the mind that if you need a special tool, like you need to loosen a Torx bolt, well then use the proper tool. But if you need to do something like, say, hammer a nail in, there's no rule which says you can't use whatever you happen to be holding, as long as it's robust. One of the reasons i've put the garage door in more quickly than specified is that i don't have to get off my ladder, search the garage for the "proper tool" and get back to work. Nope. If a nail needs pulling, i'll use a hammer, pliers, a screwdriver, or my hands. Or i'll break it off. It interests me that when i build something, or in this case, install something, the result is almost never pretty (there are exceptions) but whatever it is ends up being really sturdy. That makes me happy. I like sturdy things.

One time, i was way on the top of a dump body (that's the part of a dump truck which dumps), tightening bolts or something with my socket wrench. Something wasn't lining up right, so it needed hammering. I started smashing away with my socket wrench, and after a few bangs, the innards of the wrench kind of spilled out everywhere. But that was after about six months of that kind of abuse, daily. Now, most people i know wouldn't DREAM of using their tools so roughly, but if you've got fairly well built tools, and especially if they've got the unlimited warranty thing, well, hammer away, Thunder! And it's good to have spares.

MLM's suck.

The other day, i got a call from someone i barely know, who asked me to talk to someone i even more barely know, who talked to me about this "great opportunity" which is "just exploding in the area" and soon he'll be able to "walk away" from his other job. I've been exposed to enough multilevel marketing schemes, and recognize the catchphrases. And, of course, if you're a clueless peon like me, by the time you hear about these schemes, it's already way too late to make any money doing it. All you're doing is feeding the big dogs higher up in the triangle that you.

In case you don't know, when you joing a MLM, you kind of agree to buy stuff from this one company. The person who got you involved gets a cut of the profits, and the person who got them involved gets some and on and on until the top dude gets some micro-percent of the money that you spent buying your makeup or book or vacuum or insurance. The higher up you are, the huger your profits will be, and they can be HUGE. Amway is mind bogglingly big, and got all growed up and called itself Alticor (which doesn't mean anything, but doesn't it sound impressive? Altitude... high standarts... cor... core values? corporation?) and it started out as a MLM. I'm sure parts of it still are, but i don't care enough to search for that answer.

There's these awesome Real Life Testimonials of people who work five hours a week and are making 500K a year. One of my friends said that the guy who recruited him paid cash for a used Dodge Viper. But the only way to actually make money is to be in the top few tiers of the pyramid. But what really bothers me about MLMs is that people who haven't talked to you for ages call you up, and you're like "Yay, Bradney wants to hang out!" but it turns out they're just working. The first few times, i let the person come over and "chat" about this "no pressure" thing which was "risk free" and stuff. This last time, i simply said no. It was awesome.

If i ever did get involved in an MLM, i'd look for a recruiter for a very young pyramid scheme, and then call my friends and random people and say "Look, this is an MLM, this is how it works, if you get in now, there's a good chance to make lots of money." I would drop all the fluff and nonsense, and respect people enough to simply tell them what's up.

Relationship advice from Mister Moore

Okay, while i was living my day today, i came to this inescapable conclusion. Let's say, hypothetically, that you bought a, um... let's say a motorcycle. Which you had really wanted for a long time. And let's say that for even longer, your wife or husband had wanted to have a garage to store stuff, but the garage you already have is filled with, um, a 1979 Honda Accord and chairs and fertilizer, for instance. Furthermore, let's say that suddenly the idea of a garage with some room looked astonishingly attractive, since a corner of that shelter could protect your new scooter, i mean motorcycle, from the elements and the "North Bloodz".

Well, if you ever find yourself in that position, don't say "Hey honey, i have an awesome idea which you're gonna LOVE!!!" and then say "Let's clean out the garage like you wanted to do for so long!!!"

Luckily, i said something more like "Um, i know i'm a jerk for saying this now, but would it be okay if we cleaned out the garage today?" The non-verbals flowing between Karen and i made it amply clear that i was, indeed, a jerk. I believe the only thing getting me out of jerkland is the fact that the garage is, you know, really tidy. There's actually room now!

Next project: convince Karen that we need a drag racing jetboat.

And by the way, did you know that if you kill a fly mid-flight their wings will freeze in whatever position they were when you killed them? Isn't that cool?

Two wheels...

There's a motorcycle enthusiast's saying: "Four wheels move the body, two wheels move the soul". Well, i've only ridden on one twisty part of Kentucky, and back and forth in our little neighborhood, so i can't say my soul moved very far. But it moved farther than it usually does when i'm driving about. Of course, the twisty roads in Kentucky are breathtakingly gorgeous, and i had Katrina or Houston giggling in my lap tootling around here, so maybe that has something to do with it. But my impressions of the scooter: it's CUTE! And fun to drive. It's not loud, it's not quick, but the top speed is enough to let it be safe on not-the-freeway. Being 50cc's, of course, it's not allowed on the freeway.

Um... i feel like the last two days have been eventful, since i drove all the way to Kentucky and back, shoehorned a full sized scooter into the back of our little minivan (our Odyssey is bigger than the Dodge Colt Vista micro-micro-minivans that they made in the early 90's, but smaller than the first-gen Mercury Villager/Nissan Quest vans you'll see now and then). Why do i put parenthetical phrases all over the place? Anyway, paradoxically, the scooter was much harder to get out of the van than it. I wedged it in there all by myself, but desperately needed Karen's help to get it out.

My point about "eventful" days: there's not much to write about. I drove. I talked to my dad, Antony and Josiah. Turns out Josiah's fall off the swing which broke his arm did involve some stunting. He was trying to jump out sort of backwards, and didn't rotate properly and came down on his head and arm. His arm broke his fall, and itself. But he can still kickflip a skateboard.

And: AWESOME!!!

Um, no pictures, sorry

I can't get this computer to recognize my camera. It's weird -- there's probably $20,000 worth of computer equipment in this house, five regularly used computers plus one or two in various states of being-worked-on, and about a dozen computers not hooked up to anything, waiting to get sold. And the one Mum uses is SLOW. Slow and crashy. And it won't recognize my camera.

Sorry, Mum.

Anyway, the bike is really cool. It's in very nice shape, it runs fantastically, but could probably use half a gram lighter variator weights. It's currently tied securely in the van, which is astonishing. I didn't need to take the front wheel off or anything, as i was expecting to have to do. And after i go to the bathroom, i'm going to hit the road!

aprilia

I made it to Kentucky with absolutely no problems, and the scooter runs GREAT, and i'm going to bed. I'll photograph it in the morning, and post the picture before i leave for Michigan. Maybe. If i can find a USB cable which'll fit.

Zane's one! Zane's one!

It's Zane's birthday! He's the big ONE! One point oh! Turning one on August one; his golden birthday. Too bad he probably won't remember.

I've been contemplating our life over this past year. It's different. More different than the difference when Katrina was born, and before Houston was born extends into the foggy mists of the past, and it's hard to even conceptualize what our lives were like back then. Seriously. What did we do with our time? Our money? Why didn't we have fifty grand in the bank and six or seven houses in the neighborhood? So, the difference when kids are born must be logarithmic, not linear. Except i've heard that the fourth (sequential, multiples aren't the same) isn't that big a deal, so there must be a plateau. I think it's called a "knee" in the "curve". But all this talk of math and statistics and charts has me completely out of my depth, so let's keep talking about:

Zane! He's much more attached to us than Houston and Katrina were. Houston, for instance, wouldn't say "Daddy" or "Momma" until he was already talking in mostly-sentences. The first time he said Daddy was when he said "More milk, please.... Daddy." He just refused to call us anything! Katrina has always been laid back, willing to go to just about anyone. Both of them, really. Even if you had nose-incinerating body odor and were crawling with centipede covered porcupines, they'd leap into your arms with glee... well, maybe not. But still. Zane loves us. When one of us gets home from being away, he'll crawl over excitedly, and wave his arms in glee, with a massive grin on his little face.

There's probably a birth order thing going on here. Our friends Linda and Andrew are expecting, and Andrew told me that they're planning to not tell the kid what gender it is until he or she chooses a gender for her- or himself. Furthermore, they're going to keep it away from his or her siblings, so the child can flourish in a gender-neutral AND birth-order-neutral environment. I'm pretty sure he was kidding...? But i guess that's an opportunity we've already missed.