What is the silent thief you ask?
Aging.
It mockingly and silently moves along without any prompting... as a matter of fact, we celebrate it with cake and ice cream. Oh I understand why we do so. It starts out in your younger years... something every kids longs for... cake, ice cream or sometimes both. It sets a precedent, it grooms us into having it when we're old(er) to remind us of a time when things were made better with cake and ice cream.
Ironically as we age, those cakes should be lower in sugar and higher in whole grain fiber. Imagine if you got that as a kid? A cake that looked like someone dumped the box birdseed into the mix... yuck! Who's mocking whom then?
Life is full of defining moments... marriage, death... though there are those that might argue that there is no difference between the two. Not me of course, but some.
*Cough* Ahem...
Where was I now... oh yes defining moments that mark your aging. Births, graduations, buying a house, buying a car, dealing with a tragedy... something life altering in nature. Watching your kids (for those us who have them) grow up and make a life of their own... though we are a little ways away from that yet.
One could also argue that there a plenty more to add to the list, but for my purpose it goes back to music... again. It's time to start rascal shopping or shopping for a walker when you hear a song from your youth (and you remember when it first came out) being played on the radio.
On the oldies station!
Ouch. The song? Boys Of Summer by Don Henley... circa 1984... almost a quarter of a century ago. I was still a teenager of 19 then ... albeit my last year as such, but a teenager nonetheless. A touch of irony I suppose too in that the song itself is about aging. Can you feel the symmetry?
I know what does that say in that I (from time to time) listen to the oldies station?
As Sonny and Cher said "The beat goes on", for those of old enough to remember that duo let alone their variety show. I know that there are emails a plenty circulating pointing out the good old days. I feel compelled to point something out at a bit of my mom's expense (sorry mom) but she somewhat recently sent an email (like the aforementioned) to my brother and I. A link that plays a montage of music and pictures about and from the 60's. It was fun, and I've seen others like it.
My mom, in her message, said something along the line of "since you were both born in the 60's". While I remembered (if you will) most of what was playing (in the montage) since I was born almost smack in the middle of the 60's... early '65, I can't speak for what Brian remembered. It is true... he was born in the 60's as well, but in a mere three days a new decade began, the 70's. I found it humorous is all, yes, he was born in the 60's alright, all of three days of them.
I realize that I'm missing an even reasonable segue there, but it was something that I had a humorous laugh about when I read what she wrote and I wanted to share it. I imagine that Brian did in fact remember a number of things too, but to what extent I don't know.
It's really more about Brian being a child of the 60's... all three days of them. I imagine that my mom (or anyone else that knows Brian) is doing the math and I want to be clear in that I'm counting the partial day (his birth date) as one of the three days. I know details, details.
Sorry to just prattle on but it's not like I make anyone read this.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Tell Me Why...
I don't like Mondays...
I should be glad this Monday because the rain finally stopped (after an official O-Hare measurement of over 12 1/2") allowing me to stop with the designing and build of the ark. I should be glad this Monday since after all the rain, our sieve of a basement stayed water free... well, some very mild seepage. In years past with this kind of rainfall, it would look like a marina down there. So it was good to see the cats without their life jackets on. They've been banished to the basement due to a ongoing flea problem. We found out from the vet that they (the fleas) are bad this year... so I suppose we're not alone in that respect.
I did manage to see somewhat of a comical sight... comical in that it was kind of like visual oxymoron. A elderly-ish gentleman was walking down the street with a long over coat, a hat of some type and a SpongeBob umbrella. Kind of made me chuckle and made me think good for him, then I thought any port... you do what ya gotta do.
I suppose that you can't really tell me why I don't like Mondays... and most specifically this Monday.
Let's see, if today's Monday, that means yesterday was Sunday... and if yesterday was Sunday that must mean that the Bears played. They did... for only a half. They gave the game away and should be sitting 2-0 instead of 1-1. Oh well, they have 14 more games.
The Sox just lost an important game, luckily the Twins also lost.
So with all this rain comes wetness. With wetness can come some slipperiness... hence the slippery when wet warning... and so it happened. I was walking and hit a wet piece of wood and it was like I stepped on a banana peel. Suddenly I was skeeching on my right heel and to keep myself from going down I had to take an exaggeratedly wild step with my left foot. Upon doing so (and I'd like to add that I had my steel toe boots on) my left foot met with something solid, something very solid and unmoving. More specifically the toe of my boot, as in like kicking something. Problem was that while my boot stopped, the foot within said boot did not. It continued at a high rate of speed and slammed itself in a crumpled heap against the steel toe... my poor poor index toe, my number #2 toe taking the brunt of it. See, I'm one of those blessed with their second toe longer than the big toe. Under the nail bed is purple and the end of the toe is red and a tad swollen. This was the mother of all stubs.
Yes, it hurts to walk... quite a bit in fact.
Obviously, yet another blatant attempt to delay and put off working on the house.
On the upside, at least I wasn't carrying anyone...
I should be glad this Monday because the rain finally stopped (after an official O-Hare measurement of over 12 1/2") allowing me to stop with the designing and build of the ark. I should be glad this Monday since after all the rain, our sieve of a basement stayed water free... well, some very mild seepage. In years past with this kind of rainfall, it would look like a marina down there. So it was good to see the cats without their life jackets on. They've been banished to the basement due to a ongoing flea problem. We found out from the vet that they (the fleas) are bad this year... so I suppose we're not alone in that respect.
I did manage to see somewhat of a comical sight... comical in that it was kind of like visual oxymoron. A elderly-ish gentleman was walking down the street with a long over coat, a hat of some type and a SpongeBob umbrella. Kind of made me chuckle and made me think good for him, then I thought any port... you do what ya gotta do.
I suppose that you can't really tell me why I don't like Mondays... and most specifically this Monday.
Let's see, if today's Monday, that means yesterday was Sunday... and if yesterday was Sunday that must mean that the Bears played. They did... for only a half. They gave the game away and should be sitting 2-0 instead of 1-1. Oh well, they have 14 more games.
The Sox just lost an important game, luckily the Twins also lost.
So with all this rain comes wetness. With wetness can come some slipperiness... hence the slippery when wet warning... and so it happened. I was walking and hit a wet piece of wood and it was like I stepped on a banana peel. Suddenly I was skeeching on my right heel and to keep myself from going down I had to take an exaggeratedly wild step with my left foot. Upon doing so (and I'd like to add that I had my steel toe boots on) my left foot met with something solid, something very solid and unmoving. More specifically the toe of my boot, as in like kicking something. Problem was that while my boot stopped, the foot within said boot did not. It continued at a high rate of speed and slammed itself in a crumpled heap against the steel toe... my poor poor index toe, my number #2 toe taking the brunt of it. See, I'm one of those blessed with their second toe longer than the big toe. Under the nail bed is purple and the end of the toe is red and a tad swollen. This was the mother of all stubs.
Yes, it hurts to walk... quite a bit in fact.
Obviously, yet another blatant attempt to delay and put off working on the house.
On the upside, at least I wasn't carrying anyone...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Afternoon Delight...
And not the kind the "afternoon delight" that the Starland Vocal Band was singing about in their song with the same name. Besides, when you have six kids, the "delight" seems to be less prevalent... least of all an afternoon one.
No, this little afternoon delight is more of a chance for me to dodge the mid-afternoon sun for a bit, type out a quick afternoon posting (kind of unheard of, posting in the daylight) and the chance to enjoy a cold coke and some salt replenishing salty pretzels. It also enables me to let my ummm... sweat infested shirt to dry a bit.
I know, probably a little TMI on both accounts, but hey, I didn't make you read it.
So what's the point of all this?
Nothing...
Just killing some time while Julie and the two oldest are at the orthodontist and I have child duties with the other four (luckily one is napping) while they're gone. It also is enabling the paint to dry on a window sill that will be going up when the get back home.
As you were...
No, this little afternoon delight is more of a chance for me to dodge the mid-afternoon sun for a bit, type out a quick afternoon posting (kind of unheard of, posting in the daylight) and the chance to enjoy a cold coke and some salt replenishing salty pretzels. It also enables me to let my ummm... sweat infested shirt to dry a bit.
I know, probably a little TMI on both accounts, but hey, I didn't make you read it.
So what's the point of all this?
Nothing...
Just killing some time while Julie and the two oldest are at the orthodontist and I have child duties with the other four (luckily one is napping) while they're gone. It also is enabling the paint to dry on a window sill that will be going up when the get back home.
As you were...
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Life In The Fast Lane...
Well, I've decided that I will log what I did for the day... just random days... and today will be one of them. Please try to contain yourselves. This could actually serve as being motivational in that it should make your lives look pretty good.
So today started like any other, I woke up, but then realized that my bed had betrayed me... I didn't feel rested AT ALL! Even though I slept 'til 8am. I figure that most of you are saying, "must be tough to sleep 'til 8"... one of the "perks" of being gainfully unemployed, but I was not rested. The bed continued it's betrayal in that my back/shoulders were tight and sore. I know... the perils of aging. While that's true (to some extent) and I guess the fact of being on the larger side of the scale doesn't help matters any... I maintain that it is in fact the bed. Whatever the reason, the end result is one of discomfort and unrest. Did I mention that I don't feel rested?
SIDE NOTE: I suspect that the root of this particular go round of unrest has more to do with the fact that I have been dealing with a tight and sore shoulder now for going on about a week or so. It all started when I was painting the scale shingles for the west gable of the house. Around 300 shingles in all, but when you factor in priming (both sides and edges) and two coats of paint (only on the face side) that's like painting around 900. I did this one day after the next until one morning I woke up and my wrist was aching along with my forearm and then eventually my shoulder. I couldn't figure out what the problem was so I wondered if it could have been from the motion of the painting. I grabbed a paint brush and mimicked the motion I was using to paint and well... that was it. Try as I might, I couldn't really do much with my wrist and now basically my entire arm's hurting. My thinking is that it was because of this (compensating for my wrist) that my entire arm including the shoulder went bad on me.
So I make my way downstairs to take a hot shower (seems to help a bit, but not enough) and go through the rest of the morning routine... getting dressed and eating and the like. Today is the first day that my wrist felt normal again, but now my lower back was bothering me to go along with the shoulder. So I sat thinking and contemplating about something that I needed to work out for the gable ends of the garage. Julie's going to try her hand at siding the garage... should be pretty simple, the siding we're going to be using is T&G (that's tongue and groove to those of you who aren't in the know) and once the bottom course is level, it's just a matter of cutting and stacking and nailing/stapling. Before she can get to that, I have to trim it out for her... I get the grunt work, she gets the glory work. Anyhow, before trimming, I needed to figure out how I was going to work out the gable box cornices. I needed to make sure that one wouldn't interfere with the other and was having one heck of a time picturing it in my head. After a few "Googles" I came away with a plan. Now having that tucked away, I went out and primed some of the trim (a totally different motion than the shingles) and started to layout the trim for the wall that she's going to start on.
Then, I changed a tire on Nick's bike and did some other small PM-ing (preventative maintenance) on his bike. He needed a new tire since one had developed a bubble on the sidewall. Forgot to mention earlier there that I took Nick to his making lego movies class... at the park district. Worked some more on the trim and rounded up the stray kids for dinner.
The garage door wouldn't close so I fixed that. One of the eyes got knocked silly by Jake and well, the eyes didn't see each other and that was that. So a little adjustment here and a little electrical tape there throw in a couple of "dammits" and good as new. Had dinner, grumped at the kids for not doing what was told and needed of them to do. Packed in the tools that I left out and locked up the garage. Put the dinner leftovers away and washed some pots and pans. Attempted to get the kids to bed and then finally sat down here and typed out this twaddle.
Now I face the task of getting into a betraying bed to start the process all over again tomorrow.
Truly life in the fast lane.
So I will leave you with this ponderable... well, it was a ponderable for me, one that still has no answer either... I have my suspicions though.
Most houses have ceiling fans in them now. Most (if not all) fans are three speed. In many installations, there is a light on the fan as well. Additionally, in many of those installations, there is a dimmer and a speed control installed in place of a regular switch. This give you a possible 9 speeds to run your fan... well 9 if we do the math that 3 speed switch and 3 speed fan. So my ponderable is this. If you have your fan set to low (by the pull chain) and high at the wall switch... is it the same speed as having your fan set to high (by the pull chain) and the wall switch on low? Obviously there are other combinations that work there, and I'm not about to go into them (I have a date with a malfunctioning bed) at this time, I just tossed this one out there to give the idea.
*SIGH*... Life in the fast lane? More like limping along on the shoulder... and a sore one at that!
So today started like any other, I woke up, but then realized that my bed had betrayed me... I didn't feel rested AT ALL! Even though I slept 'til 8am. I figure that most of you are saying, "must be tough to sleep 'til 8"... one of the "perks" of being gainfully unemployed, but I was not rested. The bed continued it's betrayal in that my back/shoulders were tight and sore. I know... the perils of aging. While that's true (to some extent) and I guess the fact of being on the larger side of the scale doesn't help matters any... I maintain that it is in fact the bed. Whatever the reason, the end result is one of discomfort and unrest. Did I mention that I don't feel rested?
SIDE NOTE: I suspect that the root of this particular go round of unrest has more to do with the fact that I have been dealing with a tight and sore shoulder now for going on about a week or so. It all started when I was painting the scale shingles for the west gable of the house. Around 300 shingles in all, but when you factor in priming (both sides and edges) and two coats of paint (only on the face side) that's like painting around 900. I did this one day after the next until one morning I woke up and my wrist was aching along with my forearm and then eventually my shoulder. I couldn't figure out what the problem was so I wondered if it could have been from the motion of the painting. I grabbed a paint brush and mimicked the motion I was using to paint and well... that was it. Try as I might, I couldn't really do much with my wrist and now basically my entire arm's hurting. My thinking is that it was because of this (compensating for my wrist) that my entire arm including the shoulder went bad on me.
So I make my way downstairs to take a hot shower (seems to help a bit, but not enough) and go through the rest of the morning routine... getting dressed and eating and the like. Today is the first day that my wrist felt normal again, but now my lower back was bothering me to go along with the shoulder. So I sat thinking and contemplating about something that I needed to work out for the gable ends of the garage. Julie's going to try her hand at siding the garage... should be pretty simple, the siding we're going to be using is T&G (that's tongue and groove to those of you who aren't in the know) and once the bottom course is level, it's just a matter of cutting and stacking and nailing/stapling. Before she can get to that, I have to trim it out for her... I get the grunt work, she gets the glory work. Anyhow, before trimming, I needed to figure out how I was going to work out the gable box cornices. I needed to make sure that one wouldn't interfere with the other and was having one heck of a time picturing it in my head. After a few "Googles" I came away with a plan. Now having that tucked away, I went out and primed some of the trim (a totally different motion than the shingles) and started to layout the trim for the wall that she's going to start on.
Then, I changed a tire on Nick's bike and did some other small PM-ing (preventative maintenance) on his bike. He needed a new tire since one had developed a bubble on the sidewall. Forgot to mention earlier there that I took Nick to his making lego movies class... at the park district. Worked some more on the trim and rounded up the stray kids for dinner.
The garage door wouldn't close so I fixed that. One of the eyes got knocked silly by Jake and well, the eyes didn't see each other and that was that. So a little adjustment here and a little electrical tape there throw in a couple of "dammits" and good as new. Had dinner, grumped at the kids for not doing what was told and needed of them to do. Packed in the tools that I left out and locked up the garage. Put the dinner leftovers away and washed some pots and pans. Attempted to get the kids to bed and then finally sat down here and typed out this twaddle.
Now I face the task of getting into a betraying bed to start the process all over again tomorrow.
Truly life in the fast lane.
So I will leave you with this ponderable... well, it was a ponderable for me, one that still has no answer either... I have my suspicions though.
Most houses have ceiling fans in them now. Most (if not all) fans are three speed. In many installations, there is a light on the fan as well. Additionally, in many of those installations, there is a dimmer and a speed control installed in place of a regular switch. This give you a possible 9 speeds to run your fan... well 9 if we do the math that 3 speed switch and 3 speed fan. So my ponderable is this. If you have your fan set to low (by the pull chain) and high at the wall switch... is it the same speed as having your fan set to high (by the pull chain) and the wall switch on low? Obviously there are other combinations that work there, and I'm not about to go into them (I have a date with a malfunctioning bed) at this time, I just tossed this one out there to give the idea.
*SIGH*... Life in the fast lane? More like limping along on the shoulder... and a sore one at that!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
I Am...
Be careful on how you finish that.
I was thinking chef extraordinaire.
As I made note on the main blog, yesterday was Emmah's birthday. That gave her the privilege to pick what was to be dinner. She opted for pork tenderloin and pork chops, roasted potatoes, corn and cinnamon apples. Cinnamon apples are made by peeling and slicing apples and placing them in a frying pan with some butter, cinnamon and other proprietary ingredients.
Julie seasoned the tenderloin and chops. Julie cut up and seasoned the potatoes. Julie peeled and sliced up and made the apples. Julie proceeded to make the corn.
By now you must be wondering... um, Jeff... how exactly does this make you a chef extraordinaire?
Good question... and one I will answer thusly.
Emmah wanted the meat grilled... outside grilled. As in outside in the cold... the arctic cold. It took every skill I had in my repertoire battling the fierce fire and numbness of an icy wind. Barely able to feel the grilling utensils in my numb hand, I stood steadfast as the arctic wind blasted me head on in the face only to have a massive wave of heat engulf me as I threw open the grill to turn the meat at exactly the right moment... the right moment every time. Fire and ice... ice and fire... it was a battle in the name of ensuring a well cooked meal to which I emerged grandly victorious. Luckily, I didn't have to grill by flashlight (or headlamp) as I have previously done. The time change assisted me in sidestepping that chasm.
How dare you even think to ask how it turned out... I AM chef extraordinaire! Those who dare, I will graciously grant an answer... it was pretty damn tasty.
But I'm sure that was due to the seasoning...
I was thinking chef extraordinaire.
As I made note on the main blog, yesterday was Emmah's birthday. That gave her the privilege to pick what was to be dinner. She opted for pork tenderloin and pork chops, roasted potatoes, corn and cinnamon apples. Cinnamon apples are made by peeling and slicing apples and placing them in a frying pan with some butter, cinnamon and other proprietary ingredients.
Julie seasoned the tenderloin and chops. Julie cut up and seasoned the potatoes. Julie peeled and sliced up and made the apples. Julie proceeded to make the corn.
By now you must be wondering... um, Jeff... how exactly does this make you a chef extraordinaire?
Good question... and one I will answer thusly.
Emmah wanted the meat grilled... outside grilled. As in outside in the cold... the arctic cold. It took every skill I had in my repertoire battling the fierce fire and numbness of an icy wind. Barely able to feel the grilling utensils in my numb hand, I stood steadfast as the arctic wind blasted me head on in the face only to have a massive wave of heat engulf me as I threw open the grill to turn the meat at exactly the right moment... the right moment every time. Fire and ice... ice and fire... it was a battle in the name of ensuring a well cooked meal to which I emerged grandly victorious. Luckily, I didn't have to grill by flashlight (or headlamp) as I have previously done. The time change assisted me in sidestepping that chasm.
How dare you even think to ask how it turned out... I AM chef extraordinaire! Those who dare, I will graciously grant an answer... it was pretty damn tasty.
But I'm sure that was due to the seasoning...
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