One highlight of this past weekend was a visit from Grandma Meki, Minimeki, Mekimeki, and Mrs. Meki. What an adorable bunch! Minimeki is especially cute when she looks at you, smiling broadly, then bursts into fearful tears when she realizes she has no idea who or what you are. We enjoyed her visit to our ogre cave more than she did.

Photos

Regarding the first two photos: There was a shot of them that looked better posed--it's just a better picture of them--but I'm fond of the caught-in-the-middle-of-action appearance of these two. Lord knows, it's more realistic. Photo 3 is Big Sister dragging Little Sister into her dress-up game. It's scenes like this that provoked the invention of the camera in the first place, I think.

Multiple pictures: Gingerbread, Airplant

Christmas Eve. Erin was told she could pick out some cookies to leave for Santa. Naturally, she picked the most impressive work of art generated that day, my ramshackle ginger manger. She also left a cup of milk, and a note (written by Mommy) which Erin signed herself. The next morning, all that remained were a few sizable crumbs. I bet it tasted really good.

A gingerbread fellow by crafty Brooke. Note the scarf (gumdrop-knit).
...And one by Kim. Seurat-inspired underpants make him flashy; the Gummi Bear gift he brings makes him welcome.
...And by Son of Brooke. Long, long minutes of work went into this guy. I especially like his blood-red smile and black-rimmed, cicada-like eyes. If I work a gingerbread golem into my D&D game, I'll keep this in mind.

My gingerbread man. Far superior, in his dire menace and googly eyes, to my artsy-crafty competition. He has white razor claws used to fell trees.

Here's that airplant--when the buds first appeared, Kim and I were a little weirded out. I thought I was going to be turned into a pod person. But it turned out very pretty, bloomed for about a week, and then the flowers wilted.

As a Christmas gift, Kim's sister Pam transferred to DVD many hours' worth of digital video that we had shot. Best gift ever! Now we can review lots and lots of proud-parent photage of our offspring walking, rolling over, screaming, staring at the camera, and eating as our voices coax them to "do it again! C'mon, do it again!" Great fun for us, and perhaps for some of our close friends and relatives (albeit to a lesser extent). Maybe not something we want to put on for any and all company. Erin falling asleep while eating corn, though, is classic Funniest Home Videos stuff and will be shown to everyone.

And on the topic of being cute while eating, on Christmas day Erin had to endure sitting at the table for dinner while the center of the table was filled to brimming with sweets. She ate a segment of cheese, broccoli, and carrot pizza that Pam had made, but then announced she was done. I beseeched her to eat a couple more bites, or to at least eat a piece of the broccoli. She consented to eat one more mouthful of pizza, but then said "All done!" she put her elbows on the table and leaned way over, her head dipping close to the gingerbread men that we had decorated. Glancing back and forth between them and me, she very cutely asked, "What next, Daddy? What next, Daddy? What next, Daddy?"

Christmas was all good. There is more to tell than I have time to type. It was great seeing friends and family over the weekend.

Jill's birthday party was a fantastic success! Kim did lots of work to get things in order, baked a cake, decorated, and even vacuumed up the seven or eight pounds of Cheerios, bread crumbs, and desiccated mixed vegetables that had been hoisted overboard by Jillian during her many recent meals at the table.

It was so nice to see family, and Jillian received many adorable gifts. I also think she had a lot of fun--she's a little bit of a party girl.

I just ate some Amish friendship bread that Beth gave us -- it was delicious.

When I have little time to post, I feel that everything I say is trite. Maybe everything I say is trite anyway.

Jill's Birthday!

Today, the winter solstice, is Jill's birthday. Lately, she has been super-sweet in an attempt to wring more presents from us. But I keep telling her that she gets no additional presents until she learns to walk and stops crying whenever she gets hungry.

It's been weeks and weeks and weeks since I've posted, and I have a million things about which to post! But I have no time, so unless you come by to visit and speak to me personally, you won't get to hear about: 1) my involvement in a doomed bayonet charge on the Western front--damn the Kaiser!; 2) every single cute thing said or done by Erin and Jill; 3) how I successfully poisoned an enemy of my boss, Vladimir; 4) all the pretty presents I've received from heads of state and family members; and 5) other half-truths and lies.

My air plant bloomed. I'll post pictures later. I had no idea those things grew flowers on them. I've have it for three or four years, and suddenly, boink, purple flowers shoot out the top.

Have I ever mentioned that Kim is totally, scorchingly awesome? In every way I'd ever want?

Four Notes

1) My baby is an octopus monkey. We ate at El Tarrasco last night, and in a two minute period Jill grabbed and sucked on a bottle of the green hot sauce (cap still on it, thank goodness), a knife, a fork, the salt shaker, the pepper shaker, a napkin, and my coat. She actually paused briefly after sucking on the pepper shaker; she made a face, not an unpleasant one, and smacked her lips for a moment. I suppose that was the only thing that had flavor. I'm not saying any of this because I think that anyone with children will find this incident extraordinary in any way. I'm just saying it so that if you sit at table #6 at El Tarrasco, you'll know that every single thing in the booth was sucked on by a baby.

2) We watched two episodes of Survivor at a friend's house on Thursday. They have a big screen HD TV. I don't think I ever got the full effect seeing these things in the store; they never seemed that impressive. However, watching this mega-size, mega sharp contraption in a friend's basement was pretty, like, ultimate. As I later mentioned to David and Brooke: "I've seen eye candy, but now I know what it's like to have candy lick my eyes."

3) I watched the Rankin/Bass "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" on TV last week. Erin got to watch it, too. I really like the elf who wanted to be a dentist. It had been many years since I had seen "Rudolph," and I enjoyed seeing it again. The quality of the animation was technically poorer, but more endearing, than I remembered. I'm thankful for this show; I've long felt that, in the song, there are many story elements that are omitted. It's like I can only remember every other verse. There are lots of blanks in the song that the Animagic TV special fills in nicely.

4) I realized on Sunday that "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" is the only Christmas song to which I know all the words. In fact, there are very, very few songs to which I know all the words.

The Schmidt Sting Pain Index

Interesting and amusing:
Ratings for stinging insects

I shall avoid places that have bullet ants.

Xmas

Contrary to popular opinion - as well as unpopular opinions expressed by me - I don't actually hate Christmas. I'm actually rather fond of it, and I get misty-eyed when I reminisce about Holidays past. And now it's great having two little girls of my own around at Christmastime.

My Holiday sarcasm and biting comments are simply the way I punctuate my joviality. I consider the snide comment to be the comma in the Season's Greetings. I mean, "Season's, Greetings." Maybe it's just the apostrophe.

Sve the Vwels!

I am proud to say that I have started a vowel conservation program for our office. Employees are now encouraged to reshuffle, save, cut, and paste vowels (all letters, actually, but vowels are most important) when generating business documents, instead of simply backspacing over them or deleting them.

In time, we shall lessen out dependence on foreign suppliers. The Far East supplies about 60% of our vowels, and as China and India continue to swell into correspondence-generating powerhouses, we can expect their vowel exports to diminish.

Unfortunately, office management has ignored my urging to simply eliminate 50% of vowels from correspondence. They don’t think it looks professional to write something like, “Th reprtng of th totl numbr of unsatsfctory approches s a rqiremnt.” I’m still working on it.

New Presidential Dollars to be Released in 2007!

The U.S. Mint will be issuing a new series of coins, beginning next year, commemorating the U.S. Presidents. Similar to the State Quarters Program, the series will feature the faces of each President, not including those still living.

My initial reaction to this announcement was deep disgust. After mulling it over for a while, it is still disgusting to me. Deep down inside me, the noble numismatist is saying, "Those stupid motherf***ers! Those stupid, awful motherf***ers!"

Ten years from now, we will have circulating coinage featuring Richard Nixon. I find the thought of that fairly humiliating. Likewise do I find it annoying that we'll have coins featuring such noble leaders as Andrew Johnson and Warren Harding. If Bill Clinton and George W. Bush both drop dead of strokes next week, we'll have them on our coins, too.

I think we should rid our coins of presidents altogether and return of the Liberty motif that existed prior to the issuance of the Lincoln cent in 1909.

Think of it. You will be receiving and spending coins that are honoring Nixon and Reagan, and very possible both Bushes (the first Bush stated that a person of my religions beliefs should not be considered a citizen), and Clinton. There's something there to be reviled by everyone--Conservative, Liberal, Libertarian, Anti-Oval Office BJ, Anti-Idiot, Anti-Burglary, Pro-Choice, Pro-Life--everyone.

If we can't go back to Liberty, can we at least keep Sacagawea? She was nice. She's maternal. It's a pretty design.

Chipper

This morning I wore my long underwear and wore my heavy coat, and I felt jolly and jaunty on the way to work. I was actually humming and whistling "Sleigh Ride" for most of my drive.

This contrasts with yesterday, when I wore plain old boxers beneath my work clothes and a non-heavy coat with a broken zipper. I also had to stop for gas yesterday, and had trouble with the gas pump, which prolonged my exposure to the unpleasant December morning air. I had avoided watching any weather reports that morning, and that was good, because had I known it was 15 friggin' degrees I would have been more miserable than I already was. That's why when I arrived at work yesterday I was cussing at people, Christmas, winter, cars, and everything that crossed my path.

This morning, I was skipping. Although Christmas still sucks.

I had a marvelous dream last night that I was with my dad (or Kim's dad--the identities were dream-shifty) in a painter's studio on Baxter Avenue. The studio belonged to this man I'd never met, but whoever I was with had business or social connections with him. We were picking up some kind of artwork that was to go in Jill's room. I was walking around the studio, and there were wonderful paintings. I was most struck by a few very large ones. They were painterly, full of rich and subtle hues, and elegant. It was exactly how I wanted to paint.

Eleven Jones Cave

My dream about the cave reminded me of my explorations of Eleven Jones Cave during my early teen years. This cave is next to Beargrass Creek between Newburg Road and Poplar Level Road, in the vicinity of the St. X campus and the Louisville Cemetery. To explore it, one had to crawl on hands and knees through mud and a very shallow stream. Even so doing, it was a tight squeeze for skinny 13-year-olds. I didn’t go back as far into it as did Mekimeki and one of our other friends.

There is little about Eleven Jones Cave on the Internet. According to local legend, it was the hiding spot for loot stolen by eleven Jones brothers, who were into banditry or some other form of nefarious activity. One thing that I did find on the Internet, though, was mention of the Louisville Cave Beetle (in the link, look about half way down for Pseudanophthalmus troglodytes. The pages are unnumbered.) I was surprised to find that Eleven Jones Cave is home to a cave beetle that is listed as "Imperiled." It has only been found in that cave and at Oxmoor farm in another cave that has since been covered over for subdivision development.

Here is another link through which it is easier to read than the first:Center for Biological Diversity

I also learned that the primary means for diffentiating between various local cave beetle species is by examining their penis size. Say it with me now: Cool.

2 dreams

Last night’s dream #1: I met Chris and Pat in a bar, where Pat was celebrating something. He had been there for a while already. We talked and I had a beer and a sandwich. After a while, the tab came. We had agreed to split it up evenly, but when I saw that it came to $315.00, I was shocked. Pat had been hanging out there drinking for hours, imbibing all manner of weird and expensive drinks of which I’d never before heard. I told him I was willing to pay $25.00

Dream #2: I drove my festiva into the wilderness in search of a cave I’d heard about. I drove up a long hill, actually using an active streambed as a road (very Jeep commercial), and finally made it to the top. There was a huge, dark cave in a cliff face. I got out and entered, but came out again into a narrow, sunlit ravine. I followed this ravine, and came to a place where, up above, I could see houses. I climbed up and realized I was in my parents’ back yard. This ravine passed underground and opened up at my parents’ house. It had been there all my life and I didn’t know it. I recalled that I had argued with a frequent poster on the James Randi website, Kookbreaker, about this: He had told me this cave and ravine were there, but I told him he was nuts. Now I’d have to tell him he was right.

I've left out plenty of details for the sake of brevity and sparing myself embarrasment.

Dressing etc.

2 day I am Slee-P fter staying up 2 late n gttn up 2 rly. Had outstnag Turkeeday n luvvd the dressing and also somewhat the undressing. Dressing tops, also was the iced brownie I et. Njoyed looksing at Uncle Mark's pics f trip 2 Ireland last month. Erin n Jill largely napless and getting out f hand, but in gud mud even late at Kim's dad's where they luvd looksing t da dogs cexpt barking made Jill cry. Fun visits ull around

staid up making bread in machine, and watched "Inside Man" finally. Sharp flick!! About a sharp crime!! My man Denzel watchable as always, and Jodie Foster oddly chilling but still hot. Dafoe, as always, good. He has a face from a totem pole, that guy. 4/5 stars.

Up 2 rly 2day with Jill. Kim n various family chix shopping v. early,then came back for Erin and Jill after both awake n dresst. Then I came to work fter shower and lunch (leftovers from y2day!! Dressing!!) My eyes feel tired. Jst got here and want leave. hoo hoo hooo.

2 morroo Km's da n sis over for breakfast. French toast! That's why I ws makn bread. thnxgvng pt. 2.

Luv you
Mark

Turtle update

Brother Brian's Daily Meltdown recently discussed crunchy mice, which reminded me that Mom had a turtle update. She worked the polls on election day, and one of the people who showed up to vote was her neighbor who was passing out fliers for the missing turtle back in August or September. Mom inquired, and the lady said that she found the turtle in her yard. He'd apparently been hiding. As a lover of turtles, I say, "Whew!"

Tumping towards Bethlehem

Sunday morning at church, during the Godly Play time, the teacher was telling the kids in my room about the Holy Family and their trip to Bethlehem. She told them that since there was no room at the inn, they had to stay out in the manger with the cows.

I smirked, as it seemed yet another example of a teacher just not knowing the material. A manger, I thought smugly, was the trough in which to cattle feed was placed. Then I became doubtful. Had I been wrong all my life? Was a manger actually a stable, hut, or rickety lean-to for livestock?

I looked it up a while ago, and I was right, even though I long ago lost my copy of Hamilton’s Christian Mythology. All those years of Catholic education occasionally pay off in brief moments of smugness.

I also noted with approval that the teacher told the kids to back away from the lit candle, “…or it might tump over.”

Tump is a fine word. Perfectly cromulent, though underutilized.

I tried to watch the Spike Lee joint “Inside Man”, but it kept freezing/sticking in our DVD player. So I ate a snack and watched a little of “Fellowship of the Ring” instead. I just tried “Inside Man” on the computer DVD player here at my desk, and it stuck there, too. I eagerly await a replacement from NetFlix.

OK, again. Kim taught on Saturday, and my parents came over to help with the girls. While they were here, I reattached the downspout that fell off the house two years ago--a feat of which I am very proud, as I feel I pondered the job quite a while and then actually did the work correctly. I examined the neighbor's downspout and noted disapprovingly that someone, in the ancient (probably early Nineties) past, had simply driven a long nail right through the aluminum downspout and into her house.
"Well," I said, "I guess that's one way to do it."
Our house's previous owner had merely used the pop rivets sticking out of the gutter to precariously hang the downspout from small holes in the siding, which is a way of doing it that would make even a Melillo ashamed.
I, however, borrowed my dad's pop rivet gun. I drilled out the old rivets, positioned the gutter, and drilled new holes for new rivets. I felt very manly, bending this metal to my will. Even though it was thin aluminum that a kitten could crumple in a fit of playfulness. I nailed the old brackets back to the house, lined things up for some good manly late-Autumn cold-fingered standing-up-high-on-a-ladder drilling, and put in shiny new pop rivets. Hooray!
Now the hole that the dripping rainwater was excavating in my front yard will stop just a little short of becoming a new Sino-American trade route, and the daylilies that have been shrivelling therein can resume their mission of conquering the grassy swath between driveways.
While I was at it, I cleaned out the gutters. Then I mowed for the last time until Spring, and thereby also shredded the remaining brown leaves that were drifting about the yard. I had to rake up some grass and leaves, though, because I set the mower way shorter than usual, just to give the place a neatly trimmed look for the winter and--this sounds kinda prissy--to make it easier to roll up snowballs for snowmen. That might not ever happen. But I hate it when I try to make a snowman and get hunks of dead leaves and grass caught up in it. I'm thinking ahead, and remembering annoyances from years past.
I would have trimmed the hedges, but I need an adaptor for the electric clippers, or I need to find the non-electric choppy scissors-type ones, which must be lost in the garage somewhere.

I missed a coin club meeting today. Erin and Kim stayed home from church because Erin was running a fever. Jill and I went, although Jill is still on antibiotics for an ear infection. Kim's been down with a week-long sinus headache and general ickiness. And my Crohn's has been a little annoying for the past couple of days. So I guess it was a good month to miss the coin club meeting. Anyway, I currently have about $0.00 to spend on the monthly auction or the raffle, and I don't know if they had any kind of presentation lined up. In addition, my personal coin mania is at a momentary ebb.

Oh! And about knitting: None this weekend, not for me.

Last night David & Brooke and their progeny came 'round and we at pizza and played a card game called Kuuduk. I'm not sure anyone else really liked the game. They didn't seem to actually dislike it, either. I started out annoyed with it, but everything was annoying me (note to Brooke and David: If I seemed annoyed, it wasn't because you are annoying. It's because after mowing and raking, I was very sneezy, and had to take allergy medicine, which would make me annoyed even by a playful kitten, even if they kitten were of the rare cute variety.) But I kind of liked the game.
I also baked a loaf of bread and some rolls. It was a basic white bread recipe, but it was only the second time that I made it from scratch without the aid of a bread machine. This was a more complicated recipe than the first time, but I was less happy with the results. It came out the way it was supposed to, I think, but it was pretty plain-Jane vanilla blah. I stick with the very simple "peasant bread" recipe from the bread machine book, I suppose. It yeilded a moister, richer-tasting loaf.
Now I will go butter up some bread and watch "Inside Man," which I've heard is a good movie. Oh heck. I didn't realize how late it was. I still need to clean Jill's bottles and load the dishwasher. Why do I waste time blogging?

Yesterday Kim taught a class...

I have to stop right there for a digression. "taught" looks weird to me, and I'm not sure I spelled it right. I know its right. I wonder why that happens. Sometimes a word will just look or sound weird, and I'll have to really think about it for a little bit to make sure I didn't just make it up.
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