Update on the Crickets

The dang things are still alive.

After that first night I made a quick attempt to drown them by dumping over the plant they hid atop. It didn't work, as they just jumped on the turtles shell.

Smart buggers.

Plus I felt kind of creepy trying to kill them. Nevermind that I've killed a million bugs in my day or that I had bought them as feed for the turtle, it felt wrong.

So I was hoping nature would take its course, but at least one of the monsters is still alive.

Lisa is NOT happy.

If they're still at it tomorrow night, I might just have to go euthanize them after all.

My Mother In Law's Annual Xmas Party

Another tradition is my mother-in-law's Christmas party. It was originally held at her house and often featured my co-workers. We'd have dinner, open presents, then journey down the road to tour a decorated house.

In recent years it's moved to Chuck E. Cheese, in honor of all the youngin's now in the family.

Here's some pics from Tuesday's (12-12) party.

I think most of the pics are self-explanatory.

 That was the first visit to Chuck E Cheese, btw, where we were given not tokens but DEBIT CARDS to use on the games. I'm not sure if I should say that technology is grand, or that the world is changing too much for my taste. It certainly was different, I can tell ya that.

Me, I miss the feel of the tokens in your pocket, but that's just me.

Here's Parker and his Mom playing basketball. He loved it and wanted to keep playing.

Now while the entire event was fun, I have to say it's hard on my nerves. Watching 3 little kids running in different directions . . sigh. lol

Each year my mother-in-law makes a Gingerbread house and raffles it off to a guest. We've yet to win it.

Finally, here's a shot of my nephew.

A good time, and thanks go out to my mother-in-law - the kids had a blast!

Breakfast with Santa December 10th

My Great-Grandfather was one of a group of people that formed a fraternal Polish life insurance company a century ago; my Grandmother was Women's President of the company until her death in 1981.

Every year that company hosts a breakfast with Santa, with each child getting a very nice, brand name gift at the end of the meal. I've been going since I was a wee lad - probably since I was born - and my kids go every year.

[For a few years they dumped the breakfast format and went with pizza, then burgers. Thankfully, they went back to pancakes this year]

Best. Breakfast Sausage. Ever.

We brought YaYa's friend (and daughter of Lisa's friend) along too.

Everything went suprisingly smooth, with no hiccups at all to report.

YaYa is in that 'either act really goofy or smile stiffly and artificially' stage, but she's still cute:

When YaYa was three we had her wrap up her di-di's and give them to Santa at Mayfair Mall, with a request to give them to babies who needed them. Well, we didn't do that, not with Park still a youngin', but we did have her promise Santa to give up the pacifier as she is a 'big girl'.

As of this writing, only a few hours shy of a week later, she is still di-di free.

Parker wasn't scared at all - he just wasn't keen on sitting still. He would rather just steal a candy cane and move on :)

As for the gifts, Parker first got a noisemaking hammer, but we asked for something else, as he already owned one. The lady acted like the request was a tad rude, but the boy doesn't have all that many toys - if he did we'd have just said thanks and moved on. The second time around he got a toy cell phone.

Lu got the best gift, a Little Mermaid toyCD walkman that plays miniature 'CD's' with Disny music.

YaYa's gift was a bit of a miss. It was a craft kit that converts a picture to a jigsaw puzzle. Aside from the fact that the craft was messy, largely ineffective, and quickly used up the supplies that came with it, I was impressed that she handled seeing Lu's gift like a champ, without even a whimper.

Oh, and their friend? Her Dad bought her a Barbie, which we smuggled in to Santa's helpers :)

Blake's 7 You Tube Experiment

 

 

This is (essentially) a test of embedding a YouTube video, as I'd like to feature some videos of the family [oh, can't you wait?]

However, a little background on the clip: Blake's 7 was a late '70's BBC science fiction show that featured a gang of 7 escaped criminals (political prisoners, thieves, smugglers) who fought the evil Federation. Their leader was the idealistic Blake; another centerpiece of the show was the sociopath Avon.

After the second season the actor playing Blake left, his character officially missing in the context of the show. Avon took over and much of the next two years had the underlying goal of locating and reuniting with Blake.

This is the last few minutes of the show's final episode, in which Avon has finally found Blake - but believes him to be a traitor. .

[When I was ten or twelve I talked my folks into letting me watch the Super Bowl and getting the living room to myself, when in reality it was to watch this very episode broadcast on the local PBS station.

 If memory serves, the Bills lost that SuperBowl.]

Broadcast on a December night it lead to several Christmas suicides, from what I understand

They certainly turned the tables on the conventional 'happy ending' . .

St. Nick's 2006

December 6th brought St. Nick to our house again. Bear in mind these pics were taken at around 7 in the morning, and we all look horrible. [Check out the family portrait on the wall btw - it's a beaut]

Both my parents and Lisa's Dad contributed material to the stockings, including these jump ropes. We got them the electric toothbrushes of their favorite characters; the character bandages from their Grandpa were a great hit, although they quickly became attached to everything in the house.

The girls also received the Belle and Little Mermaid ornaments they wanted in Disney World. Ain't it grand how St. Nick is so psychic?

Here's Parker Bear with his gifts

And dang that di-di in Lu's mouth - but we crunched that soon enough . . .

Just some random pics

 Lisa and the girls

Parker and YaYa

 

Book Review - The Rising Tide

 

The Rising Tide by Jeff Shaara

Ballantine Books

672 pages, $27.95

ISBN 0-345-46141-X

 

As a writer of historical fiction Jeff Shaara has earned the right to avoid the inevitable comparisons with his father Michael, author of the Pulitzer Prize winning classic The Killer Angels.

 

With works on the American Revolution, the War with Mexico, and his Civil War novels Gods and Generals and The Last Full Measure, the younger Shaara has long proven himself a capable and talented writer, albeit one blessed (or cursed) with a famous name.

 

The Rising Tide is his first foray into the era of WWII, and the initial volume of a projected trilogy on the European war.

 

The book opens with the battle for North Africa between the British and the brilliant Erwin Rommel, continues with the American invasion of the continent, and traces the Allied efforts through the battle for Sicily and Italy, ending during the buildup for the Normandy invasion.

 

Throughout the action the novel takes the point of view of different historical figures, ranging from Rommel to Dwight Eisenhower and George Patton, a technique that's become a Shaara staple.

 

Ordinarily that device brings the reader closer to the action, wrapping them in the thoughts and actions that defined the battlefield. It also helps overcome any gaps in the reader's knowledge of history, something that worked wonders in his earlier books.

 

It doesn't work as well here, perhaps because we are far more familiar with the players of WWII then we are those from the War with Mexico - Patton, after all, is not Winfield Scott. At times the recreation of these personalities becomes almost tedious and unnecessary.

 

Patton is aggressive and flamboyant, Rommel a genius handcuffed by his superiors in Berlin, Montgomery is cautious and pompous, and Eisenhower a born diplomat.  None of that is news to anyone remotely familiar with the era and these people, and add little significance to the story itself.

 

It is only when occupying the world of minor characters such as Pvt. Jack Logan, a tank gunner, and Sgt. Jesse Adams, a paratrooper, that we are emotionally vested in the story. It's also the area of the book where the beauty and potential of Shaara's writing shines the most, when we can forget the history lesson and experience the horror and fear of the battlefield ourselves.

 

Primarily an American tale, Shaara can be forgiven for excluding the point of view of an everyday German soldier, a civilian, or anyone on the raging Eastern Front. Even so, the inclusion of those points of view might have helped flesh out a story that somehow, against the odds, comes off a bit predictable.

 

          The Rising Tide, at 672 pages, is certainly not a small novel, in size or scope. And overall the novel achieves its intention, dropping us firmly into the middle of some of the 20th century's greatest personalities as they fought the most devastating war of all time. It is a well done book, detailed enough for the history buff, simplistic enough for the casual reader.

 

          If this book is any guide, the remaining volumes of this trilogy will be worth the wait.     

            

The Billy Saga

Later that (sledding) day, I noticed something.

Or rather the lack of something.

I hadn't seen Billy, our 20+ pound gray and white cat of nine years, all day.

He usually keeps to himself, but you stumble across him beneath Parker's crib, or getting some food for himself, or just ambling around.

I racked my brain, and couldn't picture him at all that day.

As is usually the case, I went paranoid. We tore the house apart, with Lisa humoring my anxiety. By the end of the search however, she knew the truth: he was gone.

We immediately printed up some reward flyers and Lis set off to the houses in the neighborhood. I called my folks to have someone watch the kids while I joined the search, but jumped the gun and headed outside.

Remember, there was a foot of snow on the ground,and the temperature was not very pleasant.

I called Billy's name over and over, but I had no real hope. Best case scenario, he'd been scooped up by another family who would be loathe to return him; worst case . . well, you can imagine.

Then I heard a familiar meow.

I couldn't track it down exactly, but it seemed to be coming from a large bush in front of the neighbor's house.

"Lisa!" I yelled down the block.

I didn't have any proof - heck, he only answered my call that one time and then clammed up - but my gut said he was in there.

We had to carve our way through a foot of snow that had literally buried the bush, then comb through the evergreen branches. And there, cold and docile, was our Billy!

Thank God! We were so happy we were near tears! 

We took him inside and did our best to warm him up. From the evidence - the last time we saw him, the amount of snow firmly packed around the bush, his condition - he must have run out while Lisa was shoveling out her car early Friday. He'd been outside on his own for as much as 36 hours.

Other than a limp, he recovered all right. He was much more social for a bit afterwards - possibly in response to our outpouring of love and affection with our joy at finding him - sleeping curled up with YaYa in her bed, approaching us for petting,etc.

[Of course, now yours truly has a paranoid fear of losing the cats, routinely shaking them out of their sleep whenever I don't see them for a bit]

However, his attitude towards Angel Cakes took a drastic turn. He growled and hissed at her - famously forbidding her to even cross the threshold of YaYa's room when he was with her - and banishing her! to a spot atop the toilet tank.

Now things are back to normal, but I wonder: Did he just react to protect a territory he had newfound love and respect for? Or in Cat Land did she do something vile and wicked to drive him out (she did seem very nonchalant in his absence)? I wouldn't put it past the floozy ;)

Anyhow, they are back to being a feline couple

And a beautiful one at that. Makes me wish Billy wasn't fixed.

We're glad to have him back.

Aggravation

Not truly worth a post, but . . .

Today I bought some crickets as a snack for Franklin the Turtle.

This time half of them got wise to the game and managed to secure a temporary refuge atop a plant in the aquarium.

So now, at midnight, I am serenaded indoors by the sound of some very scared and energetic crickets.

Part of me thinks it's neat, very Country . . a larger part of me thinks Lis is going to kick my a** when these things keep her or the kids up all night lol

Sledding in Pulaski Park

Every year we take the kids sledding, and I'm sure I've posted pics of it here before. Even so a quick scan of the site found only this.

A week ago last Friday Milwaukee was buried under a foot of snow. School was cancelled for the first time in 9 years, and it was pretty nasty. Lis got stuck and had to dig her way out for nearly a half hour, and my Dad got stuck in the parking lot entrance at work - with half his car hanging out in a major city street.

That night YaYa had a sleepover with her friend Sophia. They watched Polar Express (not half as bad as I remembered - pretty good, minus the gratuitous hot chocolate song) and in the morning we took them and the family to Pulaski Park to go sledding.

We started off on the 'small' hills to the east of the monster hill.

Now, I was definitely NOT in favor of sending our 21 month old down the hill by his lonesome, but  . .

After a few trial runs with Lis on board, he went solo:

By the end of that trip (and several others) he was cold, wet, had a face covered in dripping snot - and wouldn't stop gesturing and grunting to go again and again.

Here's some individual shots. I love YaYa's hat, which she's had for years. I'm going to retire it to my future museum someday:

The worst part about sledding (aside from the risk of personal injury, the loss of personal property such as keys/phones, and the mind numbing fear of both of these things) is climbing back up the dang hill.

It's no secret this isn't my favorite activity, but it isn't like I haven't done it every dang year for the last, oh, three decades or so. So obviously I'm both capable and unafraid of it; I just don't dig it that much. I try to NOT get cold and wet most days; why volunteer for it ?

My goal now is to do it just long enough for all the kids to have memories of me sledding with them. After that, I'm just a spectator, least til the Grandkids come around.

Here's my post-sledding view (and Lis didn't even have to force me!)

Here's Park again

At the tail end of the excursion YaYa wanted to go down the big hill, which in my youth we called Suicide Hill.

It's been largely tamed now; the trees surrounding it have been cut back or removed, the grade has been flattened somewhat, and most of the  'bumps'  have been removed, but it's still pretty imposing.

She's up on the hilltop; this is the top half of the hill

and the bottom

She's the lavender speck in these pictures:

She and Sophia went down together at one point

and Lis took Lu down with her; brave little girls. Here's some pics of an exhausted YaYa, with snow pants coming undone lol:

A pretty good time and a beautiful use for the snow!