Happy Birthday Jeanne

In all the hubub I forgot to wish my mother-in-law a happy [redacted] birthday!

Happy Birthday Jeanne! We love you!

How the rest of the day went - 8:50 p.m. update

After this morning's dispute, it was a very sedate day at work, oddly enough, and in the afternoon a pleasant surprise. My 18 year old cousin (Lu's Godmother) who unofficially  hasn't been speaking to us since Halloween, called and stopped by the house.

I say unofficially because there was no 'argument', but the strong makings of one and we all went our separate ways.

Since we last saw her she's graduated from high school, moved out on her own (and since moved back) and Lu was very happy to see her, and vice versa.

I even conned her into cutting my lawn for 8 bucks - hee haw!

Nah, truth be known she asked to help out for a few extra bucks and I was grateful. Together we cut, trimmed, and edged the entire backyard, even under the trampoline.

Smiley tried to lend a hand too

Then he chilled out

Lu joined him, but unlike Smiley's shot her's was staged, the camera hog

The car in the next two photos I found in the garbage down the alley, and yup, I quickly scooped it up for the kids.

Lump was already in bed (I should have photographed her, as she was wearing an adorable dress), and YaYa?

YaYa was swimming with her cousin. Continuing this unusual string of sick days with her, she broke out in a bad rash up and down her arms and legs. When I called the doctor he ran me through a list of questions but then wrote it off as an allergy. To our knowledge, the only thing the girl is allergic to is High School Musical brand hand cream. Now her cousin had some, but YaYa claims not to have used it. Hmmmm, what are the chances she threw caution to the wind and tried some again?

What a morning!

Wow. Bit of a morning here, and it's only now 7:30.

The Mom who took YaYa over the weekend has a daughter that Lisa babysits. She came over this morning rip roaring and saying she was pissed at us. She said she had to have her car professionally portered yesterday and that YaYa claimed she didn't have any stomach issues but instead told her that we were all sick with the flu.

Ok, as I told the Mom, no six year old is going to go to a friend's family and say "I have chronic constipation. I get stomach pains because I do not poop.". I do not believe the car had to be portered or that it could even be accomplished on a Sunday in this town. The father said none of this the day of the event.

In addition she said we should have apologized to her (never mind the conversation with her husband or the unanswered call to her) and that we had 'no idea what she went through'.

??? I have four kids. We've both been shit on/puked on/pissed on/spit on a thousand times. It's what happens when you take kids. If someone's kid had puked in my car I'd have been annoyed, but I wouldn't have made a scene three days later, treating it as a personal affront and I would have called and checked on the kid's health the next day as a courtesy (which did not happen).

Long and the short of it, after a few minutes Lisa said enough was enough, find another babysitter and some more words were exchanged.

Oh, and George Carlin died, Lisa's brother failed to call her as promised, and her Uncle needs a heart valve replacement.

Happy Monday!

A Dinosaur Birthday Party

I won't say today was perfect, but it went much better.

This afternoon we attended Lisa's cousin's son's 5th birthday party.

 

You think we do parties with flair? Take a look at this.

After a brief but fierce rainstorm the kids were sent into the yard to search for 'dinosaur bones'. Our big concern was that each of the kids find at least one, but with 31 of the bones out there it was easy pickings.

Each of the bones came from a dinosaur jigsaw puzzle. Each piece was magnified and traced on wood as a template, then cut out and painted. This was the final product once all the 'bones' were found.

There was a ball pit, a small inflatable pool, hot dogs and brats, and a delicious chocolate cake that featured a smoking volcano on top with dinosaurs surrounding it (the volcano was filled with dry ice).

We'll have to steal that idea for one of Smiley's parties in the years to come.

A good time, even if it was often interrupted by rain.

Here are some blurry but cute shots of Lump from today:

Don't Mess with Old Ladies

I read this on Make 'Em Laugh and had to repost it here. Please be so kind as to visit that journal and say hello.

An older lady gets pulled over for speeding...

Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?

Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.

Older Woman: Oh, I see.

Officer: Can I see your license please?

Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.

Officer: Don't have one?

Olde r Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.

Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please.

Older Woman: I can't do that.

Officer: Why not?

Older Woman: I stole this car.

Officer: Stole it?

Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.

Officer: You what?

Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see

The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.

Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please! The woman steps out of her vehicle.

Older woman: Is there a problem sir?

Officer 2: One of my officers told me that y ou have stolen this car and murdered the owner.

Older Woman: Murdered the owner?

Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please.

The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.

Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?

Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.
The officer is quite stunned.

Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.

The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it to the officer.

The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.

Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.

Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too!!!!


Don't Mess With Old Ladies

Why a vasectomy would be a good thing

Ugh. What a lousy day.

Chin up, mind you - no one died or was injured, which is always a plus. But for the first day off since the trip to the zoo it just plain SUCKED.

Sleep in? Never! The kids were up at the crack of dawn. In fact I found YaYa on the kitchen floor at 5 a.m., complaining about a stomach ache.

She was supposed to go with a friend's mother to a picnic/pool party in a neighboring county. When the time came she was still feeling ill but said she would be good to go. Fine and dandy. You could tell the Mom was leery of taking her but I told her the truth - YaYa suffers from chronic constipation (she's on occasional medicine for it) and sometimes stomach aches are par for the course. It's not like it's contagious.

Two hours later I'm eating soup in the dining room when the friend's father walks into the house with YaYa. She'd thrown up three times at the party, had to shower in the host's house, and then threw up in a bowl during the car ride home.

"Is [Mother] pissed?," I asked the Dad.

He laughed. "Oh, yeah!"

Sigh. I'm gonna hear about this one FOREVER, guaranteed.

Lisa was out with her Mom to get her nails done at a spa, a mother/daughter trip for her Mom's birthday. Fine, except the lady is awful, butchering her nails, dragging it on forever, and then abandoning them both halfway through, forcing someone else to take over. $40 down the tubes.

"Why didn't you tell the manager?" I asked.

"I couldn't. She was a student, it would have cost her her job," she says.

Ok.

Meanwhile the kids are atrocious and I'm already at my wits end (it's ~2 p.m. at this point).

Lisa comes home for but a minute before turning around and going to work. Sigh. Ok, I decide to pack the kids up and go get ice cream. There is not a peaceful moment to be found, with YaYa all but torturing LuLu in the backseat and Smiley doing his grunting behind me as the baby cries.

I was soooo ticked at YaYa. I'd hear a smack, cries would ensue, and she'd plead that she barely touched her sister - forgetting that the new van has that additional mirror and that I saw her haul off. I promised her that I'd let the other two walking kids have a free crack at her if I saw her do it again.

Then LuLu and Smiley got into it in the shopping cart at the store.

Meanwhile, at work, Lisa runs into her long-lost brother, Smiley's godparent, who has not called or stopped by for easily 16 months for (by his own admission) no good reason at all.. A 15 minute argument ensues, leaving Lisa in tears.

Grand.

At home the kids are in bed but torturing me. Because of his hearing/speech difficulties Smiley has this gawd awful high pitched screech that serves as his primary means of expression. It soooooooooooo wears on your eardrums and eventually works it's way under  your craw, wherever the heck that is. He won't stop.

LuLu, a whiner by nature, has picked up on the effectiveness of the screech in getting attention (good or bad) and has added it to her repertoire. She drones on endlessly.

YaYa won't stop kissing my a**, saying "I love you Daddy" with all the sincerity of Charlie Manson saying the Lord's Prayer.

Lump is displeased with her crib and will not lay down.

Someone spilled red food coloring all over my hardwood floor. There is crushed breakfast cereal throughout the house. My sheet is missing from my bed. There is poop smeared on the towel hanging in the bathroom and a turd in the bowl with no toilet paper.

I am in hell.

I even tried calling my Mom for solace but she didn't answer her phone.

This goes on until maybe half an hour ago, and dear God it's a wonder I didn't hop in the car and head for the hills.

Better tomorrows, as Jerry Taff always said, better tomorrows.

Resolution by Robert B Parker

             

One good thing about a Robert B Parker novel; it's a quick read. Always heavy on dialogue  his novels read like expanded screenplays, and I started this one in a doctor's waiting room yesterday, read a little before bed, and finished it today - despite it being 304 pages long.

Resolution is a western novel that is a continuation of the adventures of Everett Hitch and Virgil Cole, lawmen/gunmen who in this case hire on as bouncers in the town of Resolution. Hitch quickly runs afoul of the local gunman and kills him, the opening salvo in a war between competing economic interests in the town.

In recent years Parker has not only worked on improving his signature Spenser series, but has also branched off into several directions: young adult novels, the Sunny Randall series, the Jesse Stone series, and this western team.

The characters are familiar to any Parker reader. Men exceptionally skilled at violence, often acting in ways that are less than 'moral' by mainstream standards but fit within the rigid moral code they have adapted for themselves.

Another re-occurring facet of the Parker style is a dysfunctional romance. As if love and relationships weren't hard enough in real life, Parker makes sure his characters face life-wrenching decisions wherever their heart is concerned.

If you are looking for the next Hondo or Shane, or the complexity of a Lonesome Dove, look elsewhere. This is not a book that will be remembered in the genre when your grandchildren's grandchildren visit the library. It is however a quick and entertaining read with a small but real insight into the mentality of men like Hitch and Cole.

Recommended for western readers. 2.75 out of 4, 65 out of 100.

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Robert B Parker's Now & Then

                     

I'm a huge fan of Robert B Parker. That in itself is odd, considering his text is sparse and far closer to the Hemingway school of writing than the elaborate and sprawling texts I usually prefer.

[there is a great quote out there by Herman Wouk. I wish I could remember it verbatim, but it goes on about Hemingway and dismisses his style, saying he prefers a novel that isn't afraid to use and appreciate the English language]

Ten years ago though, I began to write off Parker's work. The plots and characterizations were becoming cookie-cutter affairs, and with each novel the size of the text seemed to increase, padding out what would otherwise have been a skimpy  novella.

In recent years however, the Spenser series has returned to some of its early glory. In his twilight Parker has begun to use each of the novels as a testing ground. He's reintroduced minor figures from previous novels, expanded on what we think we know about the big players in his universe, and spent a lot of time thinking about the past.

In a number of ways, Parker seems to be prepping his characters for the author's own inevitable end.

In Now & Then Spenser is hired to verify a wife's affair on behalf of an FBI agent, and soon enough both the Mrs. and the client turn up dead. It turns out the wife's lover was a member of a terrorist organization, one that could afford to leave no witnesses. As expected Spenser is on the case to the bitter end, paying client or not, but that isn't what this book is about.

Time and again Spenser and his long-time love Susan (easily one of the most hated 'good guys' in the mystery world)  reference an affair she had in a previous novel - 'long ago' in Spenser's world, thirty years ago in our own. The affair has rarely been brought up in the intervening years, but here it's made clear that the scars of that incident have never gone away.

As much as Spenser works to clear the case, he's working just as hard to excise the demons of that ancient betrayal.

And in the end, what is legitimately a shock - the couple begins to talk about getting married, an event no Spenser fan could ever see coming.

Not the best book to introduce a new fan to the series, but a fine, solid work. 3 out of 4, or 79 out of 100.

A conversation with Socialist - warning: Politics ahead!

Our home phone is working again. It was out of whack for nearly two weeks and then out of the blue it rang and scared the bejeesus out of Lisa. God only knows what cleared up along the line.

BTW, If I claimed to have missed it let me apologize, because that's a crock: I resent having the thing in working order again, although I do appreciate the safety of having it around.

* * *

I wasn't going to put this online, just because I have ZERO interest in igniting a political debate right now, but what the heck: I think it reads well.

This was written near the start of the month and is a pretty accurate transcript of a conversation between me and Socialist the day I went to Home Depot with Smiley.

Socialist: "Are you going to shed a tear?"

Me (Confused). "Uh, wasn't going to, no."

"Really?? I thought you'd mist up over Ms's speech."

"It'd help if I knew what the F* you were talking about"

"Hillary! She's going to concede in a few minutes. I figured you and the rest of your Republican brethren would mourn her failure. I know you were hoping she'd be there in November."

"Ahh. Because I quake before the mighty Obama. Yeah, uh, no. I think he's plenty vulnerable."

Laughs. "Yeah, because when people see Obama and McCain on the same stage they're going to say 'hey, let's vote for the old white guy'"

"As opposed to all the little old ladies who'll say 'let's vote for the Black guy'?"

"Typical Republican B.S. man."

"Uh huh. Two words: West Virginia."

"F West Virginia. I don't want those hicks in my party anyway."

"Nice. I just came over to let Smiley pee man, I really don't want to get into this."

"Whatever."

"Ok, even if  there are only a [air quotes] 'handful' of people who won't vote for him because he's black there are plenty who won't vote for him because he's inexperienced, or who won't vote for him because he hangs out with hate mongers [at which time I put up a hand to stop Socialist from interrupting] and s**tloads of crazy old vets who'll vote for McCain because it's Vietnam's last chance to produce a President"

"You're full of cra*.  And this gleeful hand rubbing about all the Democrats who scream [impressive old woman voice]  'I'm going to vote for that McCain now!" because Hilliary's out, well they're full of it too. The number of people who will jump ship is so miniscule it won't even matter."

"My parents and sisters are voting McCain, and they're as Demmy as Dems get. That Vietnam thing hits a chord with some people."

"And I don't want them in my party. Anyone who crosses the line and votes for McCain should hit the f*ing road from now until hell freezes over."

"Nice. Very inclusive."

"I'm sorry man, nothing makes me more intolerant than intolerance."

* * *

One last note and then I'll shut up: regardless of your political stance, you have to wonder if AOL's headline makers get a paycheck from the DNC. There have been more slanted, misleading and biased headlines favoring Obama and/or slamming McCain then I ever saw in '00 or '04. I mention this because in some cases the content of the article itself is neutral or implies the opposite of the AOL headline. Yikes. At least pretend to be unbiased guys, you are getting paid to post the stuff.That makes you a professional. Act like it.

That's all. Enjoy your weekend!

The Somnambulist

                                     

I've stared at a blank screen for several minutes trying to pigeonhole The Somnambulist into one genre or another, and it just isn't happening.

Any description would have to include the 'mystery' genre. Edward Moon, the main character is a detective. Not a professional but a part-time aficionado, he makes his bread-and-butter as a stage illusionist. In may ways he is a a literary tip of the hat to Sherlock Holmes.

Except of course, that  in place of Dr. Watson we have the Somnambulist, a giant hairless mute who consumes vast quantities of milk and is utterly impervious to swords and knives. 

There is also a time traveler, a Hannibal Lector-like figure behind bars, an albino secret agent, two supernatural killers, a plot to destroy London, a poet, a crippled young boy ala Tiny Tim, a bearded lady turned prostitute, a zombie, a religious movement, and, last but not least, a human fly.

Sure, it's a jumbled mess, but it's also a hoot. Jonathan Barnes does a wonderful job of keeping you enthralled with his London-that-never-was, and he takes great liberties with the format. To quote the first lines of the novel:

Be warned. This book has no literary merit whatsoever. It is a lurid piece of nonsense, convoluted, implausible, peopled by unconvincing characters, written in drearily pedestrian prose, frequently ridiculous and wilfully bizarre. Needless to say, I doubt you'll believe a word of it.

Or how about when he introduces a character:

 His death is a matter of pages away.

Please don't get attached to him. I've no intention of detailing his character at any length - he's insignificant, a walk-on, a corpse-in-waiting.

My favorite of these playful lines takes place on page 194, when the narrator interrupts a conversation momentarily with the following, then resumes the dialogue.

Later that evening, lulled by the rhythmic snoring of his wife, just as he was about to go to sleep, Inspector Merryweather would think of a rather amusing retort to this. But he would know that the moment had passed, and would roll over instead and hope for pleasant dreams.

Barnes will set up a scene, populate it with emotion and humor, and then abruptly have the narrator interrupt to admit it was wholly fabricated. It sounds like a technique that should wear on your nerves, but in limited doses it is cheekily amusing.

However, I do think Barnes got greedy near the end. I think he read over his draft, recognized a hit when he saw one, and left far too many points unresolved in hopes of leaving the door open for a sequel. A dirty rotten trick, on par with much of the book, but I'll gleefully read any sequel even so.

3 and a quarter stars out of 4, or 84 out of 100.