Sleeping in the Bed She Didn’t Make

Evie is getting big.  And by big I mean growing up, not fat.  You have to be careful how you talk about women because they can get sensitive about that kind of stuff.  Anyway, Evie is growing up and she’s outgrowing the crib/child’s bed that she’s been in since she was a newborn.  She’s two for goodness sake and I’d hate for her to go to college and tell other students, “My parents saved money by not buying me a new bed.”  So tonight Jessica and I went to the mattress store and ordered her a mattress.

She will be sleeping in a bed she won’t know how to make for a while, but its time she gets a bed that will last her for a while and one she can grow into.  I wanted to buy her an iBed, but Apple doesn’t make one.  I could buy her a Windows Imobile bed to help prevent sleep walking, but I’d hate to have it blue screen while she’s asleep and scare her.  There are open source alternatives, but since coding springs is hard and less fun than the foam the only project I could find had temporary code in place that simulated springs, but didn’t offer actual support.  Therefore I just bought a physical bed that serves the purpose and builds a foundation for her little body to grow in.

She’s getting so big, its kinda sad, but in a good, fatherly sort of way.  She’s also figured out that she can do things herself, the problem is that she hasn’t figured out which things those are so anything we try to do for her gets a fight because she wants to do it.  She’s a teenager about 11 years too soon.  But at least she doesn’t want us to do everything for her 🙂  Except make her bed, that is.

Hicks

My grandparents have a pond on ther farm in Northern California.  A mere thirty miles from the rocky cliffs of Mendocino.  I think that Mendocino is a Spanish word for hippies and liberals, but since I only took two first year courses in Spanish you should probably look that up.  Yes, I took the first year course twice.  Es muy bueno.  El queso es viejo y tiene molde.  Anyway, my grandparents pond supplies the water that comes out of their faucets.  The water tastes like fish swim in it.  The fish do swim in that water, so I feel good about it tasting like pond water.

The problem is that I’m on a business trip down to Grapevine, TX.  The water here tastes like fish swim in it.  After being filtered by a multi-dollar filtration system that I’m sure the city paid good money to have put in incorrectly.  The water has probably been filtered with a fish net and a pair of used pantyhose.  I know that sounds cruel, but you’ll find that they have signs that indicate that the water is ‘Superior’ by some random test that is performed by drunk people who have had their tongues cut out.  The drunk tongueless people find the water superior to the toilets that they were reversing into the last time they stepped past drunk and into vomiting mode.

The upside is that our friends the Mason’s gave us several bottles of contraband.  I believe we have several bottles of bottled water that has been filtered to the point of tasting like nothing.  Nothing is exactly what water should taste like.  It shouldn’t taste like fish, kool-aide, teriyaki or Coors.  Oh , or perier.   But God has grace so that when we defile the water with labels like ‘Coors’ or Naive ‘Evian’ the water doesn’t just turn into air through an instant evaporation process so that we’re smitten for suggesting that God’s creation wasn’t good enough.

I just wanted to let you know that I like water… I just like it to taste like water and not sushimi gone awry.

Oh, and I’m thankful for the Mason’s giving us water that you can drink and be proud of.

Mind Games for Driving

I’ll be driving to Indiana this upcoming Thanksgiving week.  The best part of the drive is the mind games I have to play with myself to make the drive endurable.  I like the destination enough, its the road that makes me just a bit batty.

Colorado has a speed limit on the highway of 75, if the roads are dry and iceless then you can do a great jaunt to Kansas.

Kansas is the state that sucks.  The most out of the drive.  It is like driving across an empty piece of paper that is 410 miles long.  There are ruined old shacks sitting in the distant empty fields and porn towns (gas station + adult store with ‘town name’ sign at highway intersection).  To make my way through Kansas a little more exciting I’m going to poke my eyes out and drive with cruise control on.

Illi-noise, which is a special state where relatives live, is the dumbest state of speed limits that are falsely low.  Instead of the speed of geniuses 75 MPH, they have a speed limit of 5 MPH.  I know that doesn’t sound probably, but once you’ve been driving through Kansas at whatever your vehicle will do Illinoys’ 65MPH speed limit seems like a drug induced psychedelic experience of pain.  I think I’d prefer to have a porcupine stuck in my shoes when I’m not looking than drive 65 through Illinaise.  If you live in Illinoose how fast do you drive on the slow-ways?

Indiana has a speed limit of something I don’t recall.  I think its 70.  However, since I’m usually exhausted when I’m driving through it it doesn’t matter.  I play the game with myself that Indianapolis is about half way through the corn state so that once I’m getting into it or out of it I’ve accomplished something.

What things do you recommend to make the drive more sane?

Heavy Whipping Cream

Did you know that heavy whipping cream can really change your tea?  Because if you didn’t, it does.  A tiny bit of heavy whipping cream in a cup of tea turns it into dessert.

I guess any value the tea had prior to the cream has been replaced by the fatty, yummy flavors of the cream.  But it tastes good so I’m going to look the other whey.

Nine Years

Today is our nine year anniversary.  Last night Evelyn kept us up with no sleeping, which falls in line to what we were doing nine years ago: Jessica was kidnapped by her bridesmaids and forced to go around Carson City, Nevada with a sign saying something embarrassing.  I was just not sleeping because I get so freaking nervous around events like weddings, baby births and waiting to pick up to-go food that I just can’t sleep.  So the lack of sleep from having two girls, one of which who is a night owl, is something that getting married prepared me for.  Not.

Upon the day of our wedding I was a super-emotional basket case.  I was unable to iron my own clothes so I had to go over to my parents house where my grandma was staying for the wedding and have her iron my clothes for the departure from the reception.  I could not operate an iron if I had to.  To further emphasize my inability to think I had to stop at the Mervyn’s on the way to the church to buy black socks because I had failed to bring some with me.  My brain was in a state of total and utter shock.  I’m surprised I could drive – I probably shouldn’t have.

Being married to Jessica has been an overwhelming success and I would definitely do it again (though I wouldn’t recommend it for others – she’s mine and you can’t have her).  She’s been through thick and thin, richer and poorer and sickness and health.  She’s also been a great spiritual partner as we have grown in the Lord.  She’s a rockin’ mommy and a great motivator (except for with working out which I refuse to do when she suggests it because I’m a stubborn dork).  I’m thrilled to be her husband and am looking forward to the next nine!

Thankful Thursday: In-Laws

Two of my four in-laws are in town this week and I’ve really enjoyed the time with them.  They put up with my craziness and sometimes contribute to it.  They’re neat folks, they both love Christ, and they both walk in liberty.  This morning they took us out to breakfast and then they’re off in the mountains with the rest of the family while I work (or blog as the case may be).  These in-laws are the ones I knew best during my dating and engagement to Jessica and so I have longer memories with them.  They’re a hoot to play cribbage with if you can get them to do so.

My other in-laws, who I don’t want to forget about in this post, are also pretty neat.  They’ve got two teenage girls in their home… so I’m watching carefully because eventually I too will have two teenage girls in my home.  Since I’ve known them a shorter amount of time (just shy of nine years of meeting in person) its been a different relationship because the time has been less and the frequency even lesser.  They also put up with my shenanigans and contribute to them on occasion.  These in-laws play a nasty hand of cribbage as well, but also will play Aggravation, Risk and Scrabble.

You can’t beat in-laws (its against the law [see previous notes about shenanigans and understand this is a play-on-words]), and I love mine.  I’m thankful for them.

In Case Your V@9!n@ is a Roller Coaster

Why on Earth do advertisers demand that commercials have weird, weird, weird implications?  The latest maxi-pad (feminine napkin) commercial drives me bonkers!  Who decided that they should describe a woman’s body part as a roller coaster?  At what point in time does the average woman find herself in a situation where she thinks, “I have got to get a maxi-pad that can handle this Jennifer Garner/Alias type activity.  Periods & my daily commute simply don’t mix.”

This sort of thing scares me mostly because I know they’re working on a more extreme commercial with tree chippers and chinchillas.  I don’t know how they’ll fit, but its coming.

The Fridge Saga Part III

Since our fridge is apparently the most important part of our lives I thought I’d point out that today the repairman came and upon arriving he disassembled various parts of the two chambers and determined that he needed to order a part.  That part should arrive on Monday.  The person designated by some computer some time after the part arrives will be hear sometime on the 23rd.  In case you’re keeping track that would be around three weeks of borked fridge time.  I think they need to rename our deluxe fridge a Kenless instead of a Kenmore.

Rotten Eggs

So this morning Krystal came over to work out with Jessica.  But she arrived as my eggs that Jessica was kindly cooking finished cooking and Jessica set them aside on a plate and let them sit there while they chatted about yoga, pilates and ran their mouths burning more calories.  My egg, however, was losing temperature fast.  Heat transfer was taking place due to the cold plate, the cool air around the top of the egg, and the fact that moisture was exiting the egg through evaporation.

Jessica marched it down to my office and in a loving way as she exited my office declared, “Its probably cold.”  Fortunately she didn’t finish the sentence with recommended methods of arming it up like sticking the egg under my armpits or sitting on it.

Rewarded

Today I was skyping with my brother (as in video chatting) and we ended up talking about computers.  I must be totally rewarded (as in r*tard*d) because I ended up explaining to him why his next computer should be an Apple.  Yes, they’re great, but in the end I should have talked with him about something besides computer.  My relationship with him as a brother goes back far enough that we should get beyond 0’s and 1’s 🙂