Archive for June, 2008

If you guys don’t shaddup and go to sleep, I’m gonna fling a muskallonge muskellunge at you

Monday, June 30th, 2008

I yelled that out to the four gigglers who wouldn’t shaddup at 11:30 or whenever.

We were up at Fin Family Moominbeach and the G4 gals that belong directly to me (or to my bro’) were all there and the GG was not and I think the oldest of those G4 gals was about 13 so we were just on the cusp of you-know-what.

Anyway. Everybody in the back half of the upstairs at The Commander’s cabin was talking and giggling up a storm. I was in the front half and I was trying to go to sleep. But I couldn’t because of all the giggling, et al. So finally, I yelled, “If you guys don’t shaddup and go to sleep, I’m gonna fling a muskellunge at you!”


For a long split second.




LAUGHTER!!! What did she say? What is a muskellunge? MORE LAUGHTER!


A moment of silence of my own.

What did I say? Is “muskellunge” a real word? Is there a fish with that name? How did my brain think that one up? And, now that I have created that huge uproar of laughter, how will I *ever* get them (and me) to go to sleep?

So. Muskallonge. Or Muskellunge. You guys, there are about 50 brazillion versions of the word for the fish I spell (in my brain) “muskellunge”. Which is, in fact, an acceptable spelling.

The kids did go to sleep eventually. Time marches on and the cusp of you-know-what happened. Nowadays, I am *pretty* good at sleeping no matter what is going on, except for a few little moom-freak-out moments. It helps that I can hear The Indefatigable as soon as it turns onto the Landfill street a few blocks away. When my beach urchins are even home and driving it, that is…

Note to self: Just because it is a *video* camera doesn’t mean you have to *move* it all the time.

Sunday, June 29th, 2008

Or at least you could move it a little more slowly, instead of swinging it wildly around all over hell and gone. After all, they make video cameras so you can *capture* motion, right? They don’t necessarily have to *move* to do that. Clearly, KW needs some lessons in movie making but here ya go, a crappy little video about a rainstorm at the Landfill on the Planet Ann Arbor. The sound of the rain is nice, just don’t get too dizzy!

Gin margaritas and other octogenarian kitchen adventures

Saturday, June 28th, 2008

And I’ll just about guess that the box in Radical Betty’s hands is from the Dutch Oven Yarn Shop and Bakery in Alanson, Michigan. Bliss!!

Grok grok frgok! Lemme see, ifya tipe sump’n like 40404 ‘n’ then hit th’ ON buttin, ya c’n git twitters frum th’ ol’ grump’r ‘n’ even see jcb drivin’ normal

Friday, June 27th, 2008

The Web 2.0 alligator kids

Thursday, June 26th, 2008

The millennial generation? Or the alligator generation? I dunno.

My sentiments exactly

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008

Grump grump grump. First of all, I HATE the Apple Mail application. It is evil. That is all I have to say about that. You don’t even want to know. And today the fire alarm went off at work and I grabbed my keys and my purse (with my iPhone in it) and my MacBook life and ran outside. Why? Flames? Smoke? Not. I ran because this particular alarm makes just about the loudest obnoxiousest screech you could possibly imagine. It is not like any alarm I have ever heard before in my entire life. And I was *terrified* about the fire alarm back at old Stinkin’ Lincoln. ENH ENH ENH ENH … ENH ENH ENH ENH! But this alarm is *directly* over my cube! Honestly, it is almost physical pain for anyone with even moderately well-functioning ears. My brain was just screaming. Of course, it was a false alarm. But it sure got me outside.

Anyway, there really *is* something to this whole walking to the grokkery store thing. I vaguely remember wondering, back when I was first working full-time again, how it would change my relationship with the Westgate Kroger uscan. I have a long relationship with the Westgate Kroger uscan and with the Westgate Kroger in general. I shopped there when I lived in the upstairs apartment on Seventh Street and I shopped there when we lived in the upstairs apartment on Jackson Road. When we moved over here to the Landfill, we had to train ourselves to make a left turn at the Jackson/Maple intersection when we left the Westgate Kroger instead of going straight. That was so many years ago. The Westgate Kroger closed for a couple weeks once (I *think*), remodeled a few times, endured a strike (I did *not* shop there during the strike, those people were my friends), moved down the road a bit, got remodeled a few more times, almost went on strike again. That’s almost 30 years folks. I used to go “up north” to Fin Family Moominbeach for a few weeks in the summer and the Westgate Kroger would be just about the first place I would hit when I got “home”. I can remember walking out of there late on a Sunday afternoon one time after one of those vacations. It was hotter than Hades and I ran into a Chinese friend of mine (also named Anne, of all things) in the parking lot. It was one of the first times that I felt like the Planet Ann Arbor was truly home. Or one of my homes, at least. I am a vagabond. But, there we were, a Chinese woman welcoming her old tired American friend home. If it can be home to someone from China, I guess it can be home to me too. But now that the Plum Market is a couple blocks away, it is just too easy to drive home, park my vee-hickle, grab a grokkery bag and walk to the grokkery store. Is it more expensive? Probably. Who cares. I don’t have to deal with eight traffic lights and construction to get there and back. But I will have to spread my wealth tiny little collection of shekels around and I will definitely give some of those shekels to the Westgate Kroger.

Just another day in the life of a blonde.

Tuesday, June 24th, 2008

In which my state of mind takes a sudden and precipitous turn from “I am mildly bored” to “I am profoundly stoopid”. That is all. Except that llamas kill coyotes. At least they do in western Washtenaw County.

Have you heard about thees theeng, eet ees coming from the west!

Monday, June 23rd, 2008

I was sitting at work umpteen gatrillion years ago. I was feeling just a bit rocky. I was ambulatory and hadn’t quite figured out that I had whatever three-day gastrointestinal virus was currently infecting the Haisley Mafia. It did not involve vomiting and that in itself is TMI. What made the whole thing worse was that I. Had. Head lice. Along with it. Yes. Really. I eventually *forced* myself to take a sick day or two, something I am historically *very* reluctant to do. But fer kee-reist! I will never forget sitting in the bathtub feeling kinda rocky, waiting for the Nix to do its job. Could I possibly go any lower? I didn’t think so.

So, I was sitting at work umpteen quadrillion years ago and I was feeling kinda rocky and I (all that stuff I wrote in the last paragraph) and my boss Manuel waltzed into the office and helpfully reminded me in his beautiful Spanish accent about one of the current ongoing news stories. About hantaviruses. Yes. The feces of infected rodents had gone airborne out west in the Four Corners area and were killing seemingly random people. And, yes, it seemed to be heading east. Right toward us. Okay, I thought. Do I have a gastrointestinal bug (and head lice) or do I have (dun dun dun) HANTAVIRUS? To be fair, I don’t think you could describe Manuel’s method of locomotion that day as “waltzing” but he did sort of bound cheerfully into the room with that loverly little newsflash. And then, having thoroughly freaked me out, he waltzed on (maybe that is the best word for it after all) into his office.

Today when I left work, “eet” seemed to be coming from the *east* of all things. A massive dark cloud was over there getting blacker and blacker as if it were moving westward. That’s generally *backward*, at least here in the Great Lake State. The National Weather Service issued a “special alert” (or something like that) but not a warning. In the end, it was much ado about nothing. But we’re having weird, flip-floppy (as my neighbor says) weather this summer. At least I am not sick (knock on wood) and I don’t have head lice (knock on wood). And there was a llama and some sheep somewhere in all of this blather but I think they rebelled and went to Jerusalem Road or somewhere.

That garbage can isn’t yours, it was here when we moved in.

Sunday, June 22nd, 2008

Am I the only person on earth who doesn’t get this Blogher thing? If I had the time to go to San Francisco this summer (and I don’t, sigh), the last thing I would want to do is stay in a sterilized hotel room and hang around a bunch of sterilized conference rooms and auditoriums and things. And party with a bunch of people I barely know. Do not get me wrong. I think the Internet community that has built up around the so-called “mommy bloggers” and all the rest is great. But I’m not sure that it always translates into long-lasting face-to-face relationships for everyone. There’s nothing worse for me than to be in a room full of cackling strangers and have to make friends. Yikes! In fact, it’s hard enough for me to be in a room of friends and relations. Like Fish Night at the Cozy Inn. I just do *not* do small talk well. So if you think this blahg is boring, just wait until you meet me in person! I’ll be the wallflower with the stupid smile on my face.

If I had time to go to San Francisco this summer (and I don’t, sigh), I would want to walk the streets of San Francisco, up and down the hills. I would want to eat homemade avocado sandwiches for lunch. I would want to go to Point Reyes again. Or some of the beaches I didn’t get to the last time because there just wasn’t enough time. I would want to crash on Lizard Breath’s couch at night. I’ve been talking to her and sometimes *at* her for 23 years now. And therefore I think it is probably okay with her if I don’t always have anything coherent to say.

Oh, and, this time, I would definitely wear flowers in my hair. If I could get them past airport security here in the hardland of DTW.

The boys of summer

Saturday, June 21st, 2008

Today, I ran across a story on the Internet about a bunch of teenage girls in a high school somewhere, er, actually, it’s Gloucester, Massachusetts who made a pact to all get pregnant at approximately the same time and support each other about bringing up their children. My first reaction was, “is it debunked on Snopes?” It may be, but I didn’t check. And then I thought, “kee-reist! I was scared @#$%-less when I first got pregnant and I was 30!” And then… When I was a high school kid, probably about the same number of teenagers got pregnant per year but they didn’t do it as a group and were not usually excited about it. In fact, I’m sure some of them fully expected that their dads (or moms) would beat them for it. And I’m sure that some of their dads (or moms) did. And that’s about as far as I’m gonna go for the moment on that subject. When I get to be 80 or so, I might let it all hang out. Or maybe I’ll change my mind by then. But I doubt it.

Where was I going? Oh. I didn’t really have anything I wanted to say today that could be said on a family blahg (except I guess I already said it), so I turned to my huge and growing iPhoto archive. And I found these guys! My brother Jim and three of the four Sherman boys: David, Danny, and Paul. I don’t remember this particular day and I certainly don’t remember this picture. Usually when the Shermans came to visit with their VW bus and their pop-up tent camper, the winds would blow a gale and although we would all be running all over hell and gone and swimming in the waves (with appropriate adult supervision), there weren’t a whole lot of real beach days. The ones where you could put your towel down and tan yourself. Of course, there were always insects around to bother us. Whatever. This must’ve been an unusually hot day on the shores of Gitchee Gumee. And so, the boys dug some good holes. Deep enough that they reached water. Boy, do I miss my childhood sometimes. Other times, not so much.

Esther and Pete, you did a great job. Sherman kids, I miss you. Of course, I miss you bro’.

Peace, KW

P.S. The guys in the picture all grew up to be responsible citizens with families and I love them all. And the cute little one in front has gone off over to the other side somewhere but he’s watching us. And what is it with all the “Dan and Dave” pairs of brothers anyway?

I was out there on Twitter with all my boyfriends and youse guys all hadta invade my territorial imperative

Friday, June 20th, 2008

After all that kvetching the other day about the blasted landline, you know, call my cell phone, blah-de-blah-de-blah-de, I continue to be an absolute, total, utter phone klutz. Like yesterday, when I was walking around in the woods and I *thought* I heard this little funky ringing sound and then it went away and I forgot about it and when I got out of the woods again, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and it said, “Missed call from Sam! Voicemail message!” (Sam being Sam the Archaeologist, that is. Sam the dog could talk but I know he isn’t reaching out to me from the great beyond.)

Well, I hardly ever talk to Sam on the phone. We do quite a bit of emailing and *very* occasionally some I/M-ing but I/M is another thing I’m a klutz at. And we do face-to-face, typically over some sort of adult beverage. But phone? Usually, we employ the phone only to make plans. Or, er, cancel out of plans because of unforeseen events. But we won’t talk about that stuff. The reason I missed her call is not because I had the phone on vibrate. I had dutifully turned the phone off of vibrate when I got home from work yesterday. But I neglected to check the ringer volume and, of course, it was down at about 1 or whatever.

Then there was a couple weeks ago. I was walking along and I heard a faint little “Quack, quack, quack.” I wasn’t anywhere near the river or water of any sort so I thought that was a little weird. And then I took my phone out to take a picture or check my email or whatever and, guess what? Missed call from Lizard Breath. Okay. That would be because in a fit of absolute genius (like, what was I thinking?) I had assigned a duck ringtone to her phone number.

I’ve had similar experiences with phone calls from Mouse (crickets) and The Commander (African-sounding drums). Th GG has a nice, sci-fi ringtone that perfectly fits his personality but it’s pretty quiet even at high volume. Oh yeah, and then there was yesterday when I tried to join an on-line/phone meeting that my boss had called and couldn’t remember that I had to dial 9 to get out of the local phone network. Fortunately, he dubbed it a “senior moment” and we moved on.

Anyway, I got home yesterday and I was home *alone*. Spacified. Mouse and the GG walked downtown to eat a restaurant dinner and I called Sam back for a lovely telephonic conversation. And the dumpster was gone when I got home from work. And I got to eat some of our loverly leftovers. And drift blissfully off to sleep on the couch. And tonight, Dogmomster is here for a visit and we ate at Knight’s and we sat on the balcony but we weren’t next to the railing so nobody could oogle over the railing. And the GG erroneously made the suggestion that Mouse had no idea what a moped was and Jimi is on iTunes or whatever I dunno what else except I am dead taaaarrrrred. G’night.

Oh where, oh where has my Dogmomster gone? Oh where, oh where can she be?

Thursday, June 19th, 2008

People are even asking *me* where Dogmomster is. That is, The Commander asked me. I can’t lie and say that mobs of people are beating down my door wanting to know. Where is Dogmomster? Are you holding her hostage? Yiiiii! But still. Wanna know what’s up with Dogmomster’s blahg?

She is still stuck at my crappy old host server, Purehost. It’s really her story to tell but I’ve been in her shoes, so I’ll tellya my story, which is similar to hers. Maybe it’s finally okay for me to tell that story in a somewhat coherent way. Since I finally escaped it a couple months ago.

I didn’t proactively choose Purehost in the first place. Getting there was a whole long story of meandering around the net through various free hosts back in the wild, wild west days when things were flashing and blinking all over the place. I finally settled on a real, paid host in the laziest possible manner by choosing one that a friend was using. It wasn’t Purehost. That came later, when my first host decided to get outta Dodge and dumped me and all of its other customers over onto Purehost.

But Purehost was okay. It was up most of the time and when all you have on your site is a bunch of static html pages, that’s about all that counts. Even after I got tired of rolling my own blahg and installed WordPress, it was okay for a long time. Late last summer, the whole thing gradually started to grind to a halt. I mean literally. At first I hardly noticed that it was taking ababsurdo a longer time to load. I figured Comcast was just being glitchy or whatever.

It got worse and worse. It got so every time I navigated to any of my blahg’s administrative pages, it was about a five minute load time. Or it would just plain timeout and I’d lose my post. Emailed pleas for help generated replies that were all over the map.

I won’t go into detail here but I figured out all on my own that they were having some kind of problem related to php or mysql or both. Now, the fact that I am a baggy old blonde kayak woman may not inspire a lot of people to have much confidence in my intelligence. And I won’t argue with them although I may turn around and roll my eyes at Elizilla, the quintessential eye-roller. But I do just happen to have *some* experience with web-based relational databases. So I started asking questions of a more targeted nature. The responses I got fell into one of two camps: “I don’t even know what eez that” and “I ain’t gonna tell you so I’ll just bullshit you with whatever”. Perhaps that last response shouldda been phrased “my boss won’t let me tell you so I’ll just give you a crap response”.

Some honest support guy finally stuck his neck out and owned up to the fact that Purehost was having issues with mysql and it would take *two weeks* to fix it. And they did fix it. It was better for a while. But then things started to slow down again. That time, I had had just about enough, and I jumped ship. But it is still going on and Dogmomster is still caught up in it.

I just do not understand why. Technorati reported that it is tracking 112.8 million blahgs as of this morning. I’m not sure if all of those blahgs run on top of a mysql database but since that’s what WordPress runs on, there are certainly a *lot* that do. You would think that any host service worth its salt would make a firm commitment to providing *service* to its customers with blahgs. We could talk about price here but we won’t because this isn’t really about money.

I’m ranting about Purehost right now and their mysql issues are their own and I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all of that any more. But the crappy customer service issues are not limited to Purehost. Crappy service exists all over hell and gone. You guys, get a grip. I don’t even pretend to want to know what it’s like to work in your bubble. I *know* you have issues that a customer like me can’t even imagine. But when I write to you to ask why my blahg loads like molasses, you insult me when you tell me stuff like it’s my fault because my page is “too long” or I don’t have 24 tables in my WordPress installation. “Clear your cache” is the biggest cop-out in the blahgiverse. And if you can’t duplicate the issue inside your development environment, maybe you oughtta deploy a contingent of “support” folks to the nearest Starbucks to find out how long the sites you host take to load from “the outside” or whatever you call it.

I am out of steam. Enough said. But that’s where Dogmomster is these days. We’re gonna try to *move* her outta there. Kee-reist!

We don’t need to take the edge off anything but sometime we need to get rid of this dumpster.

Wednesday, June 18th, 2008

I do not care if it is 60 degrees out and the sky looks like about mid-November. WE DO NOT NEED TO TURN ON THE FURNACE. It is 70 degrees inside my kitchen, even with the window open. It is summer. Yeah, I know the summer solstice is still a few days away but you know what I mean. If you were bombing around doing chores and walking to the grocery store, etc., you would be warm enough. It’ll get hot again soon enough. Let’s enjoy the cool while it’s here. Go dredge up a sweater. That is all.

Hmmm, empty frog juice container. A visit from Alfonso the watermelon, perhaps?

Tuesday, June 17th, 2008

I know y’all do not want to hear me kvetch about website widgets and blahg content et al. Y’all are doing a great job with blahgging and I am steering off into the weird. So I’ll kvetch about an even longer-term pet peeve. Telephonic conversation. Especially the unexpected kind. You know, or maybe you don’t. You are sitting there day-dreaming about quantum or string theory (I know I am dating myself here) and you are just on the verge of a flash of insight about the inner workings of the universe. What started it all. Who is sitting up there controlling things. Except. Bbbbrrrrrrrinnnnggg! Oh #%*&, it’s the blasted phone. I wonder who died! (Knock on wood bigtime here!)

Given the interesting telephonic news I received at around noon today, I mean news *about* the phone, not news from the phone, exactly, I did get it from my iPhone but it was email and text message, not a phone call. Hmmm, that sentence definitely got away from me. Anyway. I seem to feel like it’s necessary once a year or so to try to route people away from calling me, *especially* on my landline, so I guess this is it.

Once again. I do *not* do well with telephonic conversation. It isn’t (usually) because I don’t like you. I mean, there *are* a few people in the world that I don’t like, but anyone in that category is probably not reading this. If you are *in* that category, you probably *know* who you are. But I don’t do well with bells and alarms that jolt me out of whatever current batch of soup is simmering along in my brain. You wouldn’t want to interrupt me from unlocking the workings of the universe, now would you?

Okay, I am obviously grossly overstating the case. Albert Einstein I am not. There are times when phones are very necessary and I greatly appreciate that they exist. I even have one or two or three or four or… But if you really want to get hold of me, hit the “email me” link over there on the right. Or call my cell phone. If you don’t know my cell number, hit the “email me” link over there and ask for it. If I know you or we have business to do, I’ll give it to you.

Love y’all! Seriously! 🙂 Kayak Woman.

Quick [non-iPhone] update

Tuesday, June 17th, 2008

Y’all, our landline seems to be down again. It takes voice mail messages and throws them into a black hole. I just deleted umpty-nine million of them, including two for *me* from some *headhunter*! Yeah, me, Kayak Woman!!! I know that’s hard to believe. Anyway, this situation may have been going on since something like May 20th (!!!). if you are still trying to get in touch with us via our landline, get with the program! Call our cell phones, or better yet, just email us! C’mon, don’t be square!

War on widgets

Monday, June 16th, 2008

And ads. Just say no. You guys know what I’m talking about. All those blinking, spinning, zooming, little cluttery flibberty-gadgets that are on so many web pages. And blahgs. Come on everybody. That stuff is *so* 1995! (Well, except that back then there was usually a black background or some awful repeated image, starbursts or whatever, but let’s not go back there. Okay? Okay.) Anyway. It’s 2008 and guess what? Blinking, spinning, zooming, little cluttery flibberty-gadgets don’t make your page more attractive* now either. Even without the black background. They make your page take f-o-r-e-v-e-r to load! The average Internet user takes less than something like three seconds to decide whether they want to stick around and see what any random web page has to offer. If they can’t get to the content PDQ, they will click away. Trust me. There have been studies about this. People do not like that loading, loading, loading feeling.

I know that there are a lot of bloggers out there who are trying to make some money off of their writing. I have no problem with that. Except for the ads. I also know that a lot of bloggers out there are supporting some wonderful charities. I have no problem with that. Except for the ribbons and scrolling banners. And the ads. When I go to a web page, I am interested in the content and how well it functions. If I can’t get to the content PDQ, I may just give up. If I start clicking around on promising-looking links and they lead me to 1980 or whenever, I will definitely give up. If I like your writing, I don’t wanna have to scroll down past a bunch of ad links right in the middle of your latest post and I don’t like to click “more” links. I want it right there, front and center where I can read it unhindered. Flashing, blinking, zooming (what else did I say?) ads and cute little widgets are not why I’m at your blog. *Anybody* can get those stoopid things. I can. Actually, I do have a couple. I have an ugly Google search and a Flickr widget. At least it’s a simple html/css widget, not flash or javascript or whatever.

Even if you are a good writer, random Internet ad traffic may not help, you may still have to do the old-fashioned thing of schlepping your work around. It is hard and the Internet may make it easier but there’s still some legwork to be done. If you are passionate about one charity or another, write *interestingly* and *passionately* (and often) about it. Your readers will not click on those silly banners. Sorry.

It would help if the advertisers et al would work harder to make widgets and things that are just a *little* more low-key and maybe they could be easily customizable so that bloggers could more easily incorporate them into a layout. I mean just look at how ugly my Google search box is. It’s there because it can search not only the mysql database that rolls my blahg but also the old hand-rolled html pages. But I have to adopt a horribly pixelated Google gif or whatever into the whole thing. And sometimes, it doesn’t even do the job, like the last time I looked for Chocolate Cherry Cake, which is why Chocolate Cherry Cake is on the sidebar.

Finally, if you have surfed here randomly and have a bunch of that stuff on your blahg, it’s okay. None of this stuff is personal and I don’t hate you. I’m just being a cranky old bag curmudgeonly blahgger and I’m sick of all that flashing widgety stuff. Blather is the word here. G’night! Kayak Woman!

* Again, a disclaimer about how ugly my site is in general. One o’ these days…

In my (not so) humble opinion

Sunday, June 15th, 2008

What to blahg about. What to blahg about. What to blahg about. In another month or so, it’ll be my fifth blahgiversary. For a long time, I traversed the geography of cyberspace alone. Well, not really. There were a lot of bloggers out there. I just didn’t have a face-to-face relationship with any of them. Slowly but surely, more and more of my friends and relations have taken it up and even a few who don’t have their own blahgs have asked to participate on my blahg as guest blahggers.

I love this! I don’t come from a family of writers. At least not people who write novels or poetry for a living. Diarists we have. Wanna know what it’s like to starve to death in Northern Saskatchewan in the late 1880s? My great-grandfather and his brother did and we have his diary. Actually, I *am* writing (and coding) for a living right now but honestly, you guys would fall asleep during the first two paragraphs of the documents I write for work. Then again, maybe your head hits the keyboard during my blahg too. But everyone in my family has always seemed to have the basic tools of writing under our belts and, as amateurs, I would say we are not shabby.

So, to anyone who is new to blogging, if the going gets tough, don’t quit! It’s a little awkward at first to put your life out in cyberspace for any random person to read about. Make some rules about what you can and can’t blog about. Everybody knows that work is a good thing to not blog about. But I think that what I said about my job in the last paragraph is probably benign enough to fly. Feel free to change your rules if you need to. Eet’s a blahg, not an international treaty. It can take a while for your blog to find a “voice”. You will find one. Sometimes it will go away or another voice will try to take it over. Be patient. It’ll return. And your voice may change direction.

My favorite blogs are those that just document the person’s everyday life. Their children (to the extent that they can talk about them), other family members, house, community. A good rant is always fun. Whining too, up to a point. Heck, I whine sometimes. Whining every live-long day gets a bit tiresome. “Memes” (still not really sure what that term means) drive me nuts for the most part. If you really want to post every day and don’t have anything, just start out with your trip out to the garbage can or whatever and you might be surprised at where you can go from there. But if you post a meme, I will not stop reading your blahg.

Anyway, whenever I open up bloglines, the *first* blogs I hit are the ones that belong to my kids and s-i-l and nieces and nephews and cousins and friends. I love y’all and all I am trying to do here is encourage y’all to keep up the good work. It’s so great to hear about your lives.

P.S. What *we* did today was: take an early drive to Kalamazoo, have breakfast with Mouse at the Crow’s Nest, drive home, with Mouse, and the jeep. She has the apartment in kzoo and is figuring out a summer which will probably take place between here and there and The Great White North. And she took my afternoon walk with me and I LOVED THAT. And so summer begins.

Another night at Knight’s

Saturday, June 14th, 2008

When you are sitting on the balcony, there can be plenty to be seen below. And that’s all I’ma gonna say except that the waitress and busboy were also well aware of the “scenery”. G’night. KW

I can still do it.

Saturday, June 14th, 2008

Flash, that is. Even though I couldn’t find my book for the life of me. It’s been over a year since I last created a Flash animation. This is a quick, cheap and dirty one. I don’t have time to sit around and play with Flash when I’m supposed to be cleaning out the dungeon or whatever. It *does* flash. I dunno if it’ll even work on everybody’s browser. Internet Explorer folks, I am looking at you and, of course, it won’t work on the iPhone. Betcha can’t figger out where to click!


Three steps forward, five steps back?

Saturday, June 14th, 2008

I am all set to go out to the grokkery store this morning but, wait! I cannot *print* my blasted list (yes, it’s in a spreadsheet) because the printer is temporarily out of commission because one of the things on my blasted list is BLACK INK!