Biff! Bam! Bow!

I appreciate the graphics as well as the fact that it has pulled back the Wizard's curtain just a bit and explained what's underneath very clearly. There will be a short quiz after.







Found at Neatorama

Nothing up my sleeve

The information gathering part of the remodel is continuing. The other day I met with Mr Pyro, from the woodburning stove place. It was oh so delightful and informative and I learned I should be out there felling trees, splitting stumps and stacking logs right now if I want to heat my home with wood in eighteen months. Swell. And yet I sit here and blog about it rather than do it.

On the day in question, the sun was out and this meant that the front room of the Manor was a bit warmer than usual. The room has no curtains and faces south. In other words, the fishbowl was a-warmin' up. I'm sitting in my usual spot at the end of the table, in a sunspot, chatting with Pyro when I catch something out of the corner of my eye. I glance out the front door—which is open—and through the screen door—which is closed—to see Barque strolling up the walk. "Excuse me," I say to Pyro. "One of my cats is outdoors and I don't have outdoor cats."

I scoop up Furdini, trying to determine how she escaped. I think she has figured out the latch mechanism and whacked the door open while I was engrossed in a discussion about chimney height. I'll have to collect more data on this and possibly up my estimation of her IQ score a bit more.

Tech-Fashion 101

Maybe I'd jump if it were wireless.

If you'd been listening in

Our weekend morning routine has a decidedly techie aspect. As I come out of that blissful halfway point between dreaming and full wakefulness—you know that state of consciousness where the sounds in the room don't quite jive with the dream you're having and you struggle with trying to reconcile the two—I begin most mornings by grabbing the iPhone and checking the weather. I expect no excitement from the updates. I just want verification that, indeed, Meanwhile Manor is a sieve and the temperature outside the covers is probably not very different from the temperature outside the walls.

The T came to as I was going virtual and the morning inter-romp followed the following path: check the headlines, change apps to check the weather, scan the radar map, change to the Maps app and search for Nevada City, California, search for Alamosa, Colorado, search for Area 51. In other words: random map perusal. This is our idea of a good time.

Comment of the morning: Hmm, shouldn't that be Roswell Intergalactic Air Center?

If you'd been listening in

This morning at breakfast while perusing the birthday announcements in
People magazine, The T mentions that Dolly Parton is 63 years old.

Me: Wow. She looks good. How old do you think her breasts are?

T: Much, much younger.

Happy Valentines Day 

Miles Per Step

This one's for you, Frenchie. I have no information on availability, efficiency, pricing, or registration requirements with your DMV or MVA.

2 Sugars, Cream, and the Letter Y

Which one of these does not get along with the other three: sugar, cream, coffee, and the letter Y? Let me give you a few hints. Three of the four were quite content to be safely encapsulated in a travel mug. One of the four had no idea its demise was so near, about as near as the travel mug was to the keyboard upon which it was perched.

Apple, Inc. recently celebrated the 25th year of the Mac's existence. Here's to many more. This morning, I toasted the end to my own streak of approximately 28 years of using keyboards attached to Apple computers and drinking beverages of all kinds without the two ever coming to a nasty impasse. More than 10,000 consecutive days of keeping the liquids separate from the solids right went down the drain.

And the Y paid for my clumsiness with its life. All the keys around the Y dried out unscathed after a gentle swabbing with many tissues and some canned air. An additional odd injury to the keyboard was the inactivity of the N if the shift or command key to the left of the space bar was depressed but not the shift or command key to the right of the space bar. At that point, I placed the order for a replacement.

Entered in the budget ledger for the day was $65 ... for coffee.

Seems a contradiction

In my efforts to be a little greener, I adopted reusable canvas bags for grocery shopping. A couple of these are all I need since I am not stocking up the way my parents did with only one shopping trip per week and six mouths at the trough.

I noticed something odd after my last trip to the store. If I use my own bags, 3¢ is discounted from the final bill. That's swell. But this begs the first question: how are those three pennies charged when one is not supplying their own bags? I've never seen a charge for 3¢ on a receipt.

There is also another question. When I purchase just milk or just some other single item for which I do not need a bag, I am not credited 3¢. Why does the discount only kick in when I use my own bag?

I believe I am going to request the 3¢ discount the next time I buy items I carry out in my hands and I am a) checked-out by a manager at the register, and b) it is not crowded so we can talk about this without a line forming behind me. Stay tuned.

Post-Soiree at Meanwhile Manor

Well, that was fun. The T is embarking on her own new year and so we threw a little shin-dig in order to get it started right. Those of you who know us well know that we need very little excuse in order to throw open the doors and have a party. You also know that when the guest list expands beyond five or six people, my upbringing at the knee of a woman whose house always looked ready for a Good Housekeeping photo shoot kicks in and I need to clean furiously lest I get a rash. So we cleaned. And cleaned and cleaned and cleaned...

...and barely made a dent in the debris of the abode. But at least it was presentable and somewhat child-proofed. Our breeder friends have a cute little routine upon entering the house. While Ma chats and trails the Mini while he investigates everything, Pa follows behind at a slower clip and tries to see the house through Mini's eyes. Wires, pointy things, fragile items, catfood dishes all look different to Pa, Ma, and Mini than they do to The T and I. Mini amused himself for a bit by trying to find all the occurrences of Bugs Bunny present in the house. He found a few I forgot about. Thanks, kid.

We introduced something new at this party: games. The germ of this idea was planted over xmas when I spent a goodly amount of time playing with a Wii. I thought we'd have a Wii bowling tournament. Well, I couldn't find a Wii for rent anywhere (I am not ready to buy since the remodel is still looming and I am leary of buying one only to have to pack it up for an extended period of time) so we fell back on the toychest of joy. The game of choice was Taboo. What a great way to learn how people see the world. It's essentially a word association game with some words disallowed. How can I make you say glasnost without using the terms perestroika, Gorbachev, or Reagan? After a few drinks, the question becomes even more amusing.

Today we'll do an assessment of the party protocol, debrief regarding the pros and cons of pizza toppings and wine choices, and begin planning the next gathering—optimally timed for when the house needs another good cleaning.