The wife and I have been fighting about names.
She saw an episode of Scrubs, where one of the surgeons and his wife, who is also a nurse, are pregnant. The couple talk about names and she agrees to tell him the name she likes only if he promises not to tell anyone. Of course he tells the other guy (JD) and he then goes on to name some hamster that name, thereby making it unuseable for their child.
I am sure the wife thinks I will do the same. Everyone has been bugging the wife to divulge her list of favorite names but she has refused to break, even to me. Anyone who knows the wife, knows that the more you ask her, the more stubborn she gets. I was able to get her to agree to give me her ideas if I shared mine.
This did not last for very long. As soon as I made a few suggestions, she quickly shot them down with statements such as, "No", "Absolutely not", "That's dumb", you get the picture. Now, I fully admit that some of mine were a bit silly, as when I thought the twins might be a boy and girl and suggested they be called Luke and Leia. (My mother thought this was a great idea. I had to explain the part about it being from a movie).
So I finally got fed up with my suggestions being treated so poorly, and said, "Fine. Tell me some of yours then." She refused.
What's up with that? I give my suggestions in (mostly) good faith and get nothing in return.
I know from experience that the wife will not give in, so I have refused to give any further suggestions until she makes one. She can hold out longer than I (this has been proved in other areas of our relationship) however, there are principles at stake.
Unfortunately, I have no other suggestions.
Therefore, I open the comments of this post for name suggestions.
A few points. We know the twins are identical, but do not know the sex, so male and female suggestions are appreiciated. However, no rhyming names, no names with the same initial or sound too much alike, and no unisex names (I hate that).
If I get some good suggestions, I may put up a poll.
Make a suggestion. Maybe you can claim you named my kids.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
The Surprises Keep on Coming
Just when I thought we were done with these surprises, we get another one at the last appointment.
The doc is 95% certain that the twins are identical.
If you know doctors, I am sure she would not tell us that if she was not certain. 95% just gives her a bit of wiggle room, just in case.
I was surprised. Not as surprised as when we went from one to two.
Identical twins could be fun. I was hoping for fraternal and they would be one of each, mostly because I am afraid that I won't be able to tell them apart and people will think I am a bad parent.
We still do not know what sex they are. The wife wants it to be a surprise. Boys would be nice, but they can be a handful when growing up. I am worried about my ability to deal with teenage girls, particularly tow of then (and twins to boot).
I guess I have resigned myself to my fate. Whatever happens, my life is going to drastically change in a number of weeks.
No choice but to get used to it.
The doc is 95% certain that the twins are identical.
If you know doctors, I am sure she would not tell us that if she was not certain. 95% just gives her a bit of wiggle room, just in case.
I was surprised. Not as surprised as when we went from one to two.
Identical twins could be fun. I was hoping for fraternal and they would be one of each, mostly because I am afraid that I won't be able to tell them apart and people will think I am a bad parent.
We still do not know what sex they are. The wife wants it to be a surprise. Boys would be nice, but they can be a handful when growing up. I am worried about my ability to deal with teenage girls, particularly tow of then (and twins to boot).
I guess I have resigned myself to my fate. Whatever happens, my life is going to drastically change in a number of weeks.
No choice but to get used to it.
Friday, June 30, 2006
It's Crowded in Her
Last week, for the first time, I felt the fruits of my loins.
The babies have become more active. They are starting to kick. I often catch the wife rubbing her belly, trying to calm them down.
I am certain that at least one of them is a boy. They start to kick so the wife calls me over to feel it. They immediately stop kicking.
Last week, I finally caught them at it. It is a weird feeling, to have a hand on someone's stomach and have something poke up for a split second.
I few weeks ago, the wife was in the doctor's office waiting room and they became quite active. She caught another woman laughing at her as the babies were kicking so hard that you could see her shirt moving from across the room.
At least one of them is going to be a good soccer player.
The babies have become more active. They are starting to kick. I often catch the wife rubbing her belly, trying to calm them down.
I am certain that at least one of them is a boy. They start to kick so the wife calls me over to feel it. They immediately stop kicking.
Last week, I finally caught them at it. It is a weird feeling, to have a hand on someone's stomach and have something poke up for a split second.
I few weeks ago, the wife was in the doctor's office waiting room and they became quite active. She caught another woman laughing at her as the babies were kicking so hard that you could see her shirt moving from across the room.
At least one of them is going to be a good soccer player.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Narrow Media Coverage
The Canadian media does the Canadian Forces and all Canadians a disservice in their reporting of our actions in Afghanistan. Recent Posts at Small Dead Animals and this one at Counterterrorism Blog highlight the “Deathwatch” by reporters at the Kandahar Airfield.
To be fair to reporters, it has been reported that they do not want to sit in Kandahar waiating for soldiers to die, but they are at the mercy of the news bureaus that are looking for the sensational story (there being nothing more sensational than the death of a soldier).
However, rather than blame the MSM and wail about the media, I feel it is more important to look at what can be done about it. The obvious thing for the Canadian Forces to do would be to send their own reporters out to Afghanistan.
But the Canadian Forces has no reporters, you say? Technically this is true, but as most of those on the right of the political spectrum would say, based on some of the quality of reporting we see in Canada, it doesn’t take much to be a reporter.
The Canadian Forces publishes a number of newspapers, including a national newspaper, the Maple Leaf. As well, most major bases have their own newspaper, such as The Petawawa Post in Petawawa, The Lookout in Esquimalt and The Contact in Trenton, to name a few.
Now, I agree that a base newspaper is a far cry from a national daily. Most stories are the sort you would find in a local community newspaper with a bit of a military twist. For example, instead of a local councilman opening up the new swimming pool, it will be some guy in a military uniform, probably with the title of Lieutenant Colonel in the front of his name.
However, this is not to say that the editors of these newspapers could not act as reporters. With such a small staff, (these are usually one man operations), the editor might write a number of articles for each issue, particularly if the paper is short of content to fill the space.
Why not find one, or more, of these editors who are interested in going to Afganistan and send them? The military would get a reporter not beholden to the “Deathwatch” focused news bureaus and the citizens of Canada might get more information from Afghanistan than the coverage of coffins. In addition, if the reporter is a military member then they are aware of military culture and how the system works, resulting in less confusion regarding military terms and time spent trying to understand the military mindset. The Canadian Forces might only have to do it for a few months, as the public might become more interested in the actions going on in the war and the demand of these types of stories grows, the MSM might step up.
Comments?
To be fair to reporters, it has been reported that they do not want to sit in Kandahar waiating for soldiers to die, but they are at the mercy of the news bureaus that are looking for the sensational story (there being nothing more sensational than the death of a soldier).
However, rather than blame the MSM and wail about the media, I feel it is more important to look at what can be done about it. The obvious thing for the Canadian Forces to do would be to send their own reporters out to Afghanistan.
But the Canadian Forces has no reporters, you say? Technically this is true, but as most of those on the right of the political spectrum would say, based on some of the quality of reporting we see in Canada, it doesn’t take much to be a reporter.
The Canadian Forces publishes a number of newspapers, including a national newspaper, the Maple Leaf. As well, most major bases have their own newspaper, such as The Petawawa Post in Petawawa, The Lookout in Esquimalt and The Contact in Trenton, to name a few.
Now, I agree that a base newspaper is a far cry from a national daily. Most stories are the sort you would find in a local community newspaper with a bit of a military twist. For example, instead of a local councilman opening up the new swimming pool, it will be some guy in a military uniform, probably with the title of Lieutenant Colonel in the front of his name.
However, this is not to say that the editors of these newspapers could not act as reporters. With such a small staff, (these are usually one man operations), the editor might write a number of articles for each issue, particularly if the paper is short of content to fill the space.
Why not find one, or more, of these editors who are interested in going to Afganistan and send them? The military would get a reporter not beholden to the “Deathwatch” focused news bureaus and the citizens of Canada might get more information from Afghanistan than the coverage of coffins. In addition, if the reporter is a military member then they are aware of military culture and how the system works, resulting in less confusion regarding military terms and time spent trying to understand the military mindset. The Canadian Forces might only have to do it for a few months, as the public might become more interested in the actions going on in the war and the demand of these types of stories grows, the MSM might step up.
Comments?
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Kittens are Good Training for Kids
The cat we got six months ago, Orion, is a bit of a monster.
Every morning, at about 6 am, he comes into the bedroom and starts licking or biting some part of the wife’s face. I hate it because I get awakened by her cursing.
A few months ago, we were outside when a deer came on to the driveway about 100 meters from us. He decided it was something to be stalked, so while I stood still and in full view of the deer, he quickly closed the distance by half and crouched down to start his “hunting”.
After about 5 minutes of a staredown, the cat decided to rush the deer, whereupon the deer took off into the woods with the cat in hot pursuit. Have you ever see a 200 pound deer run from and 8 pound cat? I have.
Just yesterday when the wife and I were coming home from work, a skunk scurried off of our driveway into the forest. A few hours later, I happened to be watching TV when movement out the front window caught my eye. Looking out, I exclaimed to the wife, “Hey, look, a skunk.”
Anyone who has had a pet sprayed by a skunk knows what a pain it can be, so imagine my concern when I see the cat come out of the trees, following closely behind. Based on the deer scenario, I make the assumption that he is think of going in for the kill, an assumption I am sure the skunk shared, as he was constantly pointing his tail at the cat in a threatening manner. We had to chase the cat part way through the forest before we finally caught up with him while the skunk got far enough away to lose him.
Actually, the cat is starting to settle down. There is less biting in the morning and he tends to sleep through the night, as opposed to chasing his most noisy toys around our hardwood bedroom floor at 2 am or dropping wet with drool toy mice on my face.
Although he is a pain, the kids will likely be much worse. Also, kittens become cats in about a year, while human take 18 years.
We have enjoyed laughing at his antics this last year. I expect to get the same enjoyment out of my kids for the next 18.
Every morning, at about 6 am, he comes into the bedroom and starts licking or biting some part of the wife’s face. I hate it because I get awakened by her cursing.
A few months ago, we were outside when a deer came on to the driveway about 100 meters from us. He decided it was something to be stalked, so while I stood still and in full view of the deer, he quickly closed the distance by half and crouched down to start his “hunting”.
After about 5 minutes of a staredown, the cat decided to rush the deer, whereupon the deer took off into the woods with the cat in hot pursuit. Have you ever see a 200 pound deer run from and 8 pound cat? I have.
Just yesterday when the wife and I were coming home from work, a skunk scurried off of our driveway into the forest. A few hours later, I happened to be watching TV when movement out the front window caught my eye. Looking out, I exclaimed to the wife, “Hey, look, a skunk.”
Anyone who has had a pet sprayed by a skunk knows what a pain it can be, so imagine my concern when I see the cat come out of the trees, following closely behind. Based on the deer scenario, I make the assumption that he is think of going in for the kill, an assumption I am sure the skunk shared, as he was constantly pointing his tail at the cat in a threatening manner. We had to chase the cat part way through the forest before we finally caught up with him while the skunk got far enough away to lose him.
Actually, the cat is starting to settle down. There is less biting in the morning and he tends to sleep through the night, as opposed to chasing his most noisy toys around our hardwood bedroom floor at 2 am or dropping wet with drool toy mice on my face.
Although he is a pain, the kids will likely be much worse. Also, kittens become cats in about a year, while human take 18 years.
We have enjoyed laughing at his antics this last year. I expect to get the same enjoyment out of my kids for the next 18.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Wife's Experience Pt 2
Continued from Pt 1.
Original ultrasound post here.
So as the wife is going into the ultrasound room and getting hooked up, she is talking away to the technician. We had agreed not to find out the sex of the baby, as we wanted it to be a surprise. Also, some friends told us that the birth was just not as exciting when you knew the sex.
So as she is getting ready, the wife is going on and on about how we don't want to know the sex, we want to be surprised, blah blah blah. (In fact, this place does not allow you to know the sex, which seems to be standard now.)
After a while she starts to get a bit upset, as the women seems to be ignoring the wife, giving her that polite grunt that says "Whatever you say, I am not paying attention".
About this time, I guess the woman gets tired of the wife's chatter, so she turns to her and says:
"Honey, I think you have more important things to worry about than that. It's twins."
I would have loved to see the expression on her face. It was probably a mirror of mine a few minutes later.
Original ultrasound post here.
So as the wife is going into the ultrasound room and getting hooked up, she is talking away to the technician. We had agreed not to find out the sex of the baby, as we wanted it to be a surprise. Also, some friends told us that the birth was just not as exciting when you knew the sex.
So as she is getting ready, the wife is going on and on about how we don't want to know the sex, we want to be surprised, blah blah blah. (In fact, this place does not allow you to know the sex, which seems to be standard now.)
After a while she starts to get a bit upset, as the women seems to be ignoring the wife, giving her that polite grunt that says "Whatever you say, I am not paying attention".
About this time, I guess the woman gets tired of the wife's chatter, so she turns to her and says:
"Honey, I think you have more important things to worry about than that. It's twins."
I would have loved to see the expression on her face. It was probably a mirror of mine a few minutes later.
Friday, May 12, 2006
The Wife's Experience Pt 1
Before relating how the wife found out, I have to say there are very few times in my life I have been truely, jaw-dropped surprised. The last time I can remember was my 19th surprise birthday party (the two are not really comparable).
I had completely written the possibility of twins out of my mind as of the first meeting with the doctor. My first meeting with the doc was the wife's 3rd meeting, and I naively thought that any big surprises would have been out by now. Our ultrasound was at 18+ weeks, which is half way through. As a commenter mentioned in this post, there were surprises like this in the past. I figured having two show up at birth instead of one was so far in the past that I would have known the size of the team sooner than at the half way mark.
An interesting aside, less than a week before we found out we were having twins we were at our first baby sale. Picture a packed community hall, 30-50 women, each with a table covered with baby clothes and toys. I hate shopping unless it's power tools or some sort of electronic toy. So as the wife is looking at baby clothes, I wandered into the larger item room (strollers are sort of like a machine). The wife wanders in after me and we see a double stroller there.
I remark to her, "At least we are not having two". Her reply:
"I was just thinking the same thing".
Part Two tomorrow
I had completely written the possibility of twins out of my mind as of the first meeting with the doctor. My first meeting with the doc was the wife's 3rd meeting, and I naively thought that any big surprises would have been out by now. Our ultrasound was at 18+ weeks, which is half way through. As a commenter mentioned in this post, there were surprises like this in the past. I figured having two show up at birth instead of one was so far in the past that I would have known the size of the team sooner than at the half way mark.
An interesting aside, less than a week before we found out we were having twins we were at our first baby sale. Picture a packed community hall, 30-50 women, each with a table covered with baby clothes and toys. I hate shopping unless it's power tools or some sort of electronic toy. So as the wife is looking at baby clothes, I wandered into the larger item room (strollers are sort of like a machine). The wife wanders in after me and we see a double stroller there.
I remark to her, "At least we are not having two". Her reply:
"I was just thinking the same thing".
Part Two tomorrow
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
It's Twins
Yes, you read correctly. We are having two, not one.
This wonderful news just about floored me.
It was at the 18 week mark, and we were going in for our first ultrasound. They take the wife in first for some reason, but said they would be soon out to get me. The wait is getting longer, and I am starting to worry when finally the technician comes out and calls my name. No hint of what is to come.
I get to the room and the wife looks up at me and says "Guess what?"
I say "I do not know, what?"
She says, "Guess"
Now I am starting to get pissed. What could be there to guess? We already agreed not to know the sex of the baby, so the only thing I could think of was various horrible deformaties that I did not even want to think about.
My reaction was to start to pace, then stop and look her in the eye and demand she tell me what was going on. This is my serious look, the one I save for situations when you should not mess with me. It is the "I am considering doing serious bodily harm to you" look.
The wife must have recognised the look (though this is the first time I used it on her) and she spilled the beans and told me we were having twins.
My reaction was disbelief. I mean, we had seen the doctor a few weeks ago. He checked her out, we listened to the heartbeat (I heard only one) and said eveything was fine. No mention of the possibility of more than one.
I don't like doctors. Some tend to conceal the true about what is going on "for your own good". Perhaps conceal is a strong work, but I like to know all the possibilities. I am not some liberal who can't take the truth. You can bet I will have words with this guy.
Next: Discussions with the doc and how the wife found out.
This wonderful news just about floored me.
It was at the 18 week mark, and we were going in for our first ultrasound. They take the wife in first for some reason, but said they would be soon out to get me. The wait is getting longer, and I am starting to worry when finally the technician comes out and calls my name. No hint of what is to come.
I get to the room and the wife looks up at me and says "Guess what?"
I say "I do not know, what?"
She says, "Guess"
Now I am starting to get pissed. What could be there to guess? We already agreed not to know the sex of the baby, so the only thing I could think of was various horrible deformaties that I did not even want to think about.
My reaction was to start to pace, then stop and look her in the eye and demand she tell me what was going on. This is my serious look, the one I save for situations when you should not mess with me. It is the "I am considering doing serious bodily harm to you" look.
The wife must have recognised the look (though this is the first time I used it on her) and she spilled the beans and told me we were having twins.
My reaction was disbelief. I mean, we had seen the doctor a few weeks ago. He checked her out, we listened to the heartbeat (I heard only one) and said eveything was fine. No mention of the possibility of more than one.
I don't like doctors. Some tend to conceal the true about what is going on "for your own good". Perhaps conceal is a strong work, but I like to know all the possibilities. I am not some liberal who can't take the truth. You can bet I will have words with this guy.
Next: Discussions with the doc and how the wife found out.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Collecting Ammo
I'm not sure how much the wife is into this baby thing. She has taken to calling the fruit of my loins "the pod".
I suppose that it better than her prior nickname, which was "the parasite". She stopped doing that after I threatened to tell the kid when he/she grew up.
I can just imagine, in the middle of some big fight, I would say "Well, at least I don't think Junior is a parasite."
It's never too early to start building up ammunition for the divorce hearing.
I wish I could claim that one, but I actually heard someone claim that marriage was not about love or all that other junk, but it was actually about having someone to collect information on and use against, in an effort to "one up".
The wife certainly has that one down pat. Once, about 1 million years ago, I burnt some meat I was cooking. Every time I cook or BBQ something, there is always some comment about "Is it burnt", or "How about a bit less carbon this time, honey?"
I will save this one, locked away in my brain, for a suitably appropriate time in the far future.
Everyone needs something to look forward to.
I suppose that it better than her prior nickname, which was "the parasite". She stopped doing that after I threatened to tell the kid when he/she grew up.
I can just imagine, in the middle of some big fight, I would say "Well, at least I don't think Junior is a parasite."
It's never too early to start building up ammunition for the divorce hearing.
I wish I could claim that one, but I actually heard someone claim that marriage was not about love or all that other junk, but it was actually about having someone to collect information on and use against, in an effort to "one up".
The wife certainly has that one down pat. Once, about 1 million years ago, I burnt some meat I was cooking. Every time I cook or BBQ something, there is always some comment about "Is it burnt", or "How about a bit less carbon this time, honey?"
I will save this one, locked away in my brain, for a suitably appropriate time in the far future.
Everyone needs something to look forward to.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
All Hail the Power of the Fertility Cock
(or How Tom Cruise Helped Conceive My Child)
The wife belongs to a dancing group and one of the things they do is give this rooster to each new married couple. They call it the Fertility Cock and is supposed to help conceive a child (a modern version of some ancient fertility myth). The thing has a good track record. Every couple who has had it gets pregnant.
All that hippie crap aside, the thing worked from a few thousand miles away and the wife is pregnant.
I am sure no one wants the details of the conception (it’s not that kind of blog), but suffice it to say, if The Last Samurai had been a more movie interesting, I might not have kids.
However, that is not the worst of it.
More details tomorrow.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Post Anniversary
Thanks for the suggestions.
In the end, we did some work around the house during the day and spent the night in a nice suite at the Fantasyland Hotel in Edmonton.
The evening included a fancy dinner and some gambling at the casino, where the wife won $16 at roulette.
Unfortunately she lost $20 at blackjack, so we were down $4 at the end of the night.
In the end, we did some work around the house during the day and spent the night in a nice suite at the Fantasyland Hotel in Edmonton.
The evening included a fancy dinner and some gambling at the casino, where the wife won $16 at roulette.
Unfortunately she lost $20 at blackjack, so we were down $4 at the end of the night.
Lack of Posting
Sorry to all three of my readers for my lack of posting. Things have been a bit busy around here but I promise to start posting more.
There has been a bit of an event that will change the nature of this blog and that will provide you, dear reader, with much amusement.
More on that tomorrow.
There has been a bit of an event that will change the nature of this blog and that will provide you, dear reader, with much amusement.
More on that tomorrow.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Anniversary
Next week, we will be celebrating one year since our wedding.
One year is paper, so I am thinking of paper plates as a present.
But seriously, does anyone have a suggestion as a present for a lefty wife?
One year is paper, so I am thinking of paper plates as a present.
But seriously, does anyone have a suggestion as a present for a lefty wife?
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Lefties are always trying to fudge the numbers
There has been a number of instances lately, especially in the US media, of the MSM, minions of the left wing, trying to game or ignore the numbers that don't fit in with their plan. Examples include the drop in the Bush approval rating to 34% that interviewed more Democrats than Republicans. Newsbusters is a good site that tries to keep them honest. Here is a recent post that serves as an example of poll fudging.
I can say this as a have some personal experience with this type of behaviour.
I have taken down the poll in the side bar. The final numbers were as follows:
You two need counselling. I know a good therapist. - 17%
Men are pigs. A woman is always right, even when she is wrong. This is no exception. - 46%
Unfortunately, they are not to be believed. I noticed the poll going up by one per day, in only one category.
Suspecting the wife, I confronted her. To give her credit, she openly admitted that she was voting every day, trying to push the numbers up to make me look bad. She even bragged that it was easy, implying that I was at fault for making it easy to cheat.
Perhaps.
I don't have a private detective following her around all the time to ensure that she is not having an affair.
Am I making that too easy, honey?
I can say this as a have some personal experience with this type of behaviour.
I have taken down the poll in the side bar. The final numbers were as follows:
MB has the patience of a saint. I don’t know what he sees in her. - 29%I wish my husband/boyfriend was half as good a man as MB. If you ever break up, give me a call. - 8%
You two need counselling. I know a good therapist. - 17%
Men are pigs. A woman is always right, even when she is wrong. This is no exception. - 46%
Unfortunately, they are not to be believed. I noticed the poll going up by one per day, in only one category.
Suspecting the wife, I confronted her. To give her credit, she openly admitted that she was voting every day, trying to push the numbers up to make me look bad. She even bragged that it was easy, implying that I was at fault for making it easy to cheat.
Perhaps.
I don't have a private detective following her around all the time to ensure that she is not having an affair.
Am I making that too easy, honey?
Friday, March 10, 2006
Arsonists on the loose
Being a lefty, the wife is all into various lame causes such as recycling.
When we lived in Edmonton, recycling was easy. Put everything (except organics) in the blue bag and leave it with the garbage. They come and pick it up and sort it at this new sorting facility in the city. Edmonton is really ahead of the courve when it comes to this sort of thing.
Sherwood Park, not so much. We have to haul eveything ourselves to a central location, and put it into the various bins provided. For all I hear about the redneck sterotype, I sure see alot of people sorting through their own garbage for no pay when we go down there.
Of course, we do our own organics on the property. I am looking to set of vegetable garden this summer, so the wife had me buy one of those black composters, about $20 at Canadian Tire last year.
In addition to bannana peals, orange skins, etc, I also put the ashes from the fireplace in there, as they are good to compost. Of course, no rotting going on yet, but with spring just around the corner, we should have some nice, rich stuff by the time we want to plant.
So, on Saturday I emptied the fireplace, putting the ashes in the plastic composter. Anyone see where this is going?
By the time we woke up on Sunday morning the thing had burned (melted down). In fact, you wold think the thing had been stolen, except for the tiny drops of melted platic all around the snow and the smell.
Woops.
When we lived in Edmonton, recycling was easy. Put everything (except organics) in the blue bag and leave it with the garbage. They come and pick it up and sort it at this new sorting facility in the city. Edmonton is really ahead of the courve when it comes to this sort of thing.
Sherwood Park, not so much. We have to haul eveything ourselves to a central location, and put it into the various bins provided. For all I hear about the redneck sterotype, I sure see alot of people sorting through their own garbage for no pay when we go down there.
Of course, we do our own organics on the property. I am looking to set of vegetable garden this summer, so the wife had me buy one of those black composters, about $20 at Canadian Tire last year.
In addition to bannana peals, orange skins, etc, I also put the ashes from the fireplace in there, as they are good to compost. Of course, no rotting going on yet, but with spring just around the corner, we should have some nice, rich stuff by the time we want to plant.
So, on Saturday I emptied the fireplace, putting the ashes in the plastic composter. Anyone see where this is going?
By the time we woke up on Sunday morning the thing had burned (melted down). In fact, you wold think the thing had been stolen, except for the tiny drops of melted platic all around the snow and the smell.
Woops.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
In like a Lion...
Last night we had the most snow that we have had all winter and I finally got to really use the tractor snowblower. We have about 300m of driveway, so a blower is a must. I tested the thing out last week, as I thought we were done for snow and wanted to use it at least once before spring.
No need to worry about getting some use out of it. The 2-4 cm we were supposed to get ended up being about 30 cm of new snow. The snow was up to my calves when I went outside. The wife and I got up at the usual time, not thinking I would need to blow, as we usually just drive over 2-4 cm in her Focus. As I got outside to shovel the walk, I noticed more snow than expected. All the while the wife is talking about being late for work, etc. Well, it took about an hour to do all of it, including the one time I got stuck. I had to get the wife on the machine and reverse it while I pushed. Once it was free, I expected to finish the job, but the wife just drives off and finishes it herself. Taking away all my fun.
I guess it is my fault for showing her how to run the thing. You can imagine how fun it is if she wants to do it. To top it off, I am in longjohns and track pants, all bundled up, the person dressed for the task, while she is wearing dress pants working the tractor. With the wind, you end up getting covered with snow, which isn't pleasant, particularily if you are not dressed for it. She had to change before work.
This has to be the last snowfall before spring.
No need to worry about getting some use out of it. The 2-4 cm we were supposed to get ended up being about 30 cm of new snow. The snow was up to my calves when I went outside. The wife and I got up at the usual time, not thinking I would need to blow, as we usually just drive over 2-4 cm in her Focus. As I got outside to shovel the walk, I noticed more snow than expected. All the while the wife is talking about being late for work, etc. Well, it took about an hour to do all of it, including the one time I got stuck. I had to get the wife on the machine and reverse it while I pushed. Once it was free, I expected to finish the job, but the wife just drives off and finishes it herself. Taking away all my fun.
I guess it is my fault for showing her how to run the thing. You can imagine how fun it is if she wants to do it. To top it off, I am in longjohns and track pants, all bundled up, the person dressed for the task, while she is wearing dress pants working the tractor. With the wind, you end up getting covered with snow, which isn't pleasant, particularily if you are not dressed for it. She had to change before work.
This has to be the last snowfall before spring.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Radio Free Edmonton
In my quest to be the King of all media, a buddy and I have started up our own underground radio program.
Check it out and download our podcasts at Radio Free Edmonton.
Check it out and download our podcasts at Radio Free Edmonton.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Get thee to Hell, St. Valentine
The wife is away this week.
This means no need to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Not that I hate Valentine’s Day. I view it as any other man on this planet, with a sense of fear and slight loathing. When I was single, I dreaded Valentines Day. It was like a trap, set by society to destroy whatever relationship you happened to be in.
Here we have this day where men are forced to buy a present for whomever they are dating. Do I get her a present? If you don’t and she thinks you should have, it’s over. If you get her something, then what? Too cheap, its over. Too expensive, you are too serious, and it’s over. Get it just right and you win big. Unfortunately, men are not wired to be good at making those types of judgements, so the chance of winning big is stacked against us.
Valentines Day was part of the reason I got married. No more guesses, get her a token and you are good to go. If she is mad about you spending only $10 on flowers, some excuse about saving the money for a trip, or being broken after buying the big TV would usually suffice.
I am luckier than most, and this is why I recommend dating or even marrying the left wing types: They don’t believe in Valentines Day!
The wife considers it a conspiracy of the greeting card companies (I tend to agree). Lefties think everything is a conspiracy, so even if she doesn’t, drop a nice hint, such as “So, should we get something for each other for Valentines Day? I was going to, but the whole thing is a bit of a scam by the greeting card companies, don’t you think?”
When I decided to ask her to marry me, two things went through my head. I knew it would be difficult, as I have trouble dealing with the lefty conspiracy types, such as everyone’s favourite Robert McClelland. The lack of logic in their arguments makes my head hurt. I know I would have to put out with that sort of stuff for the rest of my life. On the other hand, lefty girls hate all the open my door and Valentines Day crap, and will do anything in the sack.
Don’t you believe it. The Wife says Valentines Day is a conspiracy, but watch her eyes light up when you get her something. Or watch the chance of you getting something fade if you don’t.
This Valentines Day she isn’t here, so problem solved.
Oh, and that stuff about doing anything in the sack. That’s crap.
Just like Valentines Day.
This means no need to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Not that I hate Valentine’s Day. I view it as any other man on this planet, with a sense of fear and slight loathing. When I was single, I dreaded Valentines Day. It was like a trap, set by society to destroy whatever relationship you happened to be in.
Here we have this day where men are forced to buy a present for whomever they are dating. Do I get her a present? If you don’t and she thinks you should have, it’s over. If you get her something, then what? Too cheap, its over. Too expensive, you are too serious, and it’s over. Get it just right and you win big. Unfortunately, men are not wired to be good at making those types of judgements, so the chance of winning big is stacked against us.
Valentines Day was part of the reason I got married. No more guesses, get her a token and you are good to go. If she is mad about you spending only $10 on flowers, some excuse about saving the money for a trip, or being broken after buying the big TV would usually suffice.
I am luckier than most, and this is why I recommend dating or even marrying the left wing types: They don’t believe in Valentines Day!
The wife considers it a conspiracy of the greeting card companies (I tend to agree). Lefties think everything is a conspiracy, so even if she doesn’t, drop a nice hint, such as “So, should we get something for each other for Valentines Day? I was going to, but the whole thing is a bit of a scam by the greeting card companies, don’t you think?”
When I decided to ask her to marry me, two things went through my head. I knew it would be difficult, as I have trouble dealing with the lefty conspiracy types, such as everyone’s favourite Robert McClelland. The lack of logic in their arguments makes my head hurt. I know I would have to put out with that sort of stuff for the rest of my life. On the other hand, lefty girls hate all the open my door and Valentines Day crap, and will do anything in the sack.
Don’t you believe it. The Wife says Valentines Day is a conspiracy, but watch her eyes light up when you get her something. Or watch the chance of you getting something fade if you don’t.
This Valentines Day she isn’t here, so problem solved.
Oh, and that stuff about doing anything in the sack. That’s crap.
Just like Valentines Day.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Shameful Joy
The Wife has been away on a business trip for a few days. Unfortunately, this means Orion has no one else to bother other than me. For some reason, every morning at 4 am, he wakes up and wants to play. Of course, no child or kitten can play without someone watching them. So we normally receive a 4 am wake up, not by alarm clock, but by a cat licking and nibbling on the face.
Actually, that is not completely honest. The Wife wakes up to a cat licking and nibbling. I wake up to a wife cursing and swearing. For some reason, he always does this to her, not me. Even though I do not like to be awakened at 4 am to cursing and swearing, I am experiencing a bit of Schadenfreude.
Before we got this cat, the other cats use to sleep on our bed. They always seemed to sleep on either side of my legs, and at 13 and 10 pounds it felt I was pinned to the bed. I would always be having weird dreams about aliens tying me down and probing me.
For a time, I tried to keep the cats out of the bedroom to stop the weird dreams and maybe improve the sex life. Since it is hard to make love with a cat constantly scratching and meowing at the bedroom door (and the wife is not interested in pleasuring the person who is putting her "children" in distress) I eventually gave up. Instead of alien probes, I tried those dream control techniques and imagine I was tied to the bed by some bikini team. That dream control stuff is bunk.
So I was experiencing a bit of pleasure taken from someone else's misfortune at the expense of the wife.
However, now that she is away, that cat has only one person to lick and nibble.
Seven more days and I can go back to my shameful joy.
Actually, that is not completely honest. The Wife wakes up to a cat licking and nibbling. I wake up to a wife cursing and swearing. For some reason, he always does this to her, not me. Even though I do not like to be awakened at 4 am to cursing and swearing, I am experiencing a bit of Schadenfreude.
Before we got this cat, the other cats use to sleep on our bed. They always seemed to sleep on either side of my legs, and at 13 and 10 pounds it felt I was pinned to the bed. I would always be having weird dreams about aliens tying me down and probing me.
For a time, I tried to keep the cats out of the bedroom to stop the weird dreams and maybe improve the sex life. Since it is hard to make love with a cat constantly scratching and meowing at the bedroom door (and the wife is not interested in pleasuring the person who is putting her "children" in distress) I eventually gave up. Instead of alien probes, I tried those dream control techniques and imagine I was tied to the bed by some bikini team. That dream control stuff is bunk.
So I was experiencing a bit of pleasure taken from someone else's misfortune at the expense of the wife.
However, now that she is away, that cat has only one person to lick and nibble.
Seven more days and I can go back to my shameful joy.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Orion the Hunter is a Monster
The latest addition to the family, Orion, has been an annoying pain lately. The cat is starting to get smart. We don't let him outside, as it is cold, he still does not know his way around the property, and is so friendly that he would probably go up to a coyote and get eaten. I used to be able to distract him with a cat toy and throw it down the hall and exit the house before he realized I was leaving. Not anymore.
As well as meowing pitifully at the door when we are about to leave, I have to pick him up and throw him down the hall, closing the door as fast as possible so he cannot escape without slamming him in the doorway.
After a few years of two cats who saw humans as feed bowls, it takes a bit to get used to a cat that is more like a dog. He even fetches his toy mouse and brings it to be thrown, over and over.
The wife is getting pissed at Orion. He gets up each moring at about 4 am to lick and bite her face. When that fails to get her up, he sleeps on her neck, in what appears to be an attempt to smother her. He never does this to me. I think he may be jelous of her, due to the fact that if she gets up to shower, he then settles down on her side of the bed to nap with me.
She has started to refer to him as "your cat" and complain loudly when "your cat" does something bad, like try to climb her like a tree just after exiting the shower.
That was supposed to be my job.
As well as meowing pitifully at the door when we are about to leave, I have to pick him up and throw him down the hall, closing the door as fast as possible so he cannot escape without slamming him in the doorway.
After a few years of two cats who saw humans as feed bowls, it takes a bit to get used to a cat that is more like a dog. He even fetches his toy mouse and brings it to be thrown, over and over.
The wife is getting pissed at Orion. He gets up each moring at about 4 am to lick and bite her face. When that fails to get her up, he sleeps on her neck, in what appears to be an attempt to smother her. He never does this to me. I think he may be jelous of her, due to the fact that if she gets up to shower, he then settles down on her side of the bed to nap with me.
She has started to refer to him as "your cat" and complain loudly when "your cat" does something bad, like try to climb her like a tree just after exiting the shower.
That was supposed to be my job.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)