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keaton: does not like moustaches

Over the limit.Hmmph.

I spent so much of the day yesterday thinking it was Friday.  I couldn’t shake the notion.  Kept wondering what Sharaun and I were up to that evening.  Turns out she was up to going to some craft fair and I was up to going to the gym with Keaton.  Making matters worse, I’m expected to report to the sawmill tomorrow; on a Saturday, no less.  Flippin’ slavedrivers.

9am meeting ran long today, didn’t get out until a quarter to one.  OK so that was only 45min past-time, but that junk be cuttin’ into my lunch, dig?  Yeah so me and some buddies grabbed a late one at the Mongolian Grill.  You ever been to a Mongolian grill?  Not exactly diet food (good thing I’m not exactly on a diet), but you get to pile an empty bowl high with foodstuffs, pour various sauces on it, and they grill it up for you.  Was tasty.

Wednesday night our regular church-ish thing got canned so we joined our friends in a social Lost-watching event (television: campfire for modern Neanderthals).  At some point during the evening, Keaton, who was watching Peter Pan in the adjoining room, wandered into our area and took a commanding position in the center of the floor rug.  She puffed up, waved her arms to ensure she had our attention, and proceeded to proclaim:  “I don’t like moustaches.”  Then she laughed a little.  Me, I laughed a lot.  Such a random thing to promulgate; such a random little girl.  The room had a good chuckle though, and she eventually went back to Peter Pan, seemingly pleased with herself.

Nite, happy weekending.

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work can smell happiness & freedom

Sniffa-sniffa.Tuesday again.

Packed my gym gear off to work with me this morning; changed in the handicapped stall at work around 4:15pm and was on the road by 4:30pm.  Plans were foiled by a work-related call from Texas.  I was the dummy standing outside the gym on his bluetooth talking “business.”  Didn’t get sweating until after five anyway.  Moral of the story: You can never really leave work early; work will hunt you down; work can smell happiness and freedom, and work hates them both.

Recently, through the magic of the internet – I was turned on to a super obscure Southern bluesman named Abner Jay. With no allmusic.com biography, no Wikipedia entry, and scant information available online – he’s something of a mystery. Let me tell you, this stuff is amazing. Most of his recordings are long out of print, owed mostly to the fact that he released them on his own record label (Brandie Records, after his wife) and sold them at his live shows.

A one man band whose instruments were the dried bones of various animals (and, on record, a foot-pedal bass drum and hi-hat) and a long-neck banjo passed-down from his grandfather – his unconventional blues are a mix of storytelling and commentary, all heavily steeped in the slave/field language of the old South (so heavily one must assume it’s partly affected for show). The music is simple, and Jay’s voice is as deep and black as any Looney Toons caricature you saw as a child (before that stuff was deemed unfit for TV).

With songs about cocaine, depression, and sex – this stuff is simply fascinating. Had I known about Mr. Jay’s music back in college, surely his tune “The College Crowd” would have been one of my party-playlist musts.  He sings: “The college crowd. The college crowd. They study hard, all week long; sometimes there’s hardly time to eat or sleep. But come weekends, they put their books away; some sittin’ on the floor some get carried away. Some get as a high as a Georgia pine, some get as high as a cloud. This is the college crowd. The college crowd. The college crowd.”

And although his albums are long out of print (for ordinary folk, that is), some Swedish label put together a best-of recently from which you can get a good feel for his style. Stream it in full here. Oh, and there IS more info about the man out there if you’re piqued – start here for some history.

‘Nite-nite internet friends.  See you tomorrow.

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north wind today

Cheap labor: The masterplan.North wind today; cut right through all the muscle and fat and blew ice right down to the bone.

It’s like God’s taunting us with Spring; even the trees are confused… boughfuls of pink and purple and white blooms all teased out by the warm week had last week.  And me, teased into thinking it’d be a good night to barbecue… then parried back inside by the chill of the 5pm shade.  I even forwent my usual freeze-out windows-down ride home from the gym… and I’m usually sweaty enough for any weather. In summary: A chilly, but sunny, day.

Today I bought another iPhone car charger. I didn’t, however, go to the AT&T or Apple store – I went instead to Ebay. On Ebay, I can purchase a charger for $2.45 shipped – from Hong Kong, no less. In-store the things cost between $20 and $30. I find it amazing, and more than just a bit hilarious, that there can be such a difference. I mean, really, after paying postage from China to California, materials, and labor – what could these Chinese folks actually be netting per charger? If it’s above a dollar, I’d be surprised.

Two dollars and forty-five cents though, that’s ridiculous. At that price, the thing is pretty much right near my inconsequential-cost threshold. Spare change; couch-cushion money; a pittance. I almost feel like, when things get that cheap, they should start growing on trees or sprouting from dirt – free for all to come along and take. You need a new iPhone charger, or a new memory card for your camera – just walk outside and look for the charger and SD plants that grow in the highway dividers… those things are like weeds.

Goodnight friends.  Wish me luck knocking out more than a couple blogs this week, OK?  OK.

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poor easter bunny

bunnycropA nice weekend, but (yes I know I always say it) too short a one to be sure.

Saturday morning I began a couple backyard projects I’ve been meaning to get to for a while now.  The first being the installation of some landscape lighting to both make the yard both a bit “prettier” and a little brighter as the Summer barbecues stretch on past dusk, the second being a set of outdoor speakers to provide a nice soundtrack for those same Summer barbecues.  I got about halfway done with each before it started to rain and I was placed in charge of Keaton so Sharaun could run some errands.  Sunday after church I resumed the work until the rain (which only seems to come on the weekends lately) drove me inside yet again.  Once the rain subsided I was able to finish both jobs as far as the materials I had on-hand would take me.  A good start, tho.

Saturday night Keaton stayed the night at her friend Matthew’s place (her first co-ed sleepover) so Sharaun and I could attend a wedding.  We didn’t even get back that late, so the sleepover bit may have been overkill – but word is she had a fantastic time, and having the house to ourselves the whole night was pretty neat.  Turns out Keaton had a blast; Matthew’s dad setup the tent in the living room, lit a fire in the fireplace, and the kids fell asleep watching a movie each in their own sleeping bag.  And us, returning to an empty house, were just a little sad to be missing our little girl.

After church this morning we went to lunch with some friends.  Keaton was being very three-years-old, not talking, not acknowledging folks when talked to, and just generally not listening.  One of our friends, in an attempt to draw her out of herself, asked her, “Keaton, is the Easter Bunny going to come to your house soon?”  “No,” Keaton answered.  “He’s not?!,” we all chimed, anxious to hear why, “How come?”  “Because he’s dead.”

Oh, we’ll then.  I guess he won’t be coming by.

Goodnight.

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same as ever

No better.Happy Monday night internet people.  Join me for a quick blog, would you?

Ten o’clock and I’m fresh back from the gym, where I’ve been steady-working to drop pounds and evade heart-attacks and whatnot.  And, still so-far-so-good in that department.  I’m not near giving up yet, and I daresay I’ve near developed a habit.  (Good for me, since I’m far and away a creature of habit.)

Sometimes people ask me, “Don’t you just feel better now that you’re going to the gym?  Like… you have tons more energy and you just have an overall better feeling?”  I’ve heard this a lot, in fact people used to say it to me as a convincing argument that working out was worth it.  And, as much as it pains me to let folks down I have to be honest and tell them that, no, I don’t feel magically “better” for working out – at least not physically.  Now, mentally, and how well I feel about myself for being disciplined and sticking with it – that’s a whole other thing.  I’ve got pride by the chestful in that department.  But, as far as my body just feeling “better,” I can’t say it does.  Sorry gym rats… maybe I just need more time.

I think work is on the cusp of slowing down a bit; I’m over the major hump I needed to summit before I got a little breathing room.  I cut loose that effort tomorrow and am hoping for a slightly slower remainder of the week so I can catch up on the 800 e-mails sitting in the inbox waiting for my attention.  My job is not “hard” like breaking rocks or building houses hard, but it’s got its own “hard” elements to it at times.  I suppose I do enough to earn my keep,; at least I don’t leave feeling guilty each day.

Now, in you-reading-this time I bet not even two minutes have elapsed.  Over here in me-writing-this time, however, the big hand is creeping towards the little green pip-less domino that represents an eleven on our living room clock (no numbers, we’re fancy like that).  Anyway… that, dear friends, means I shall close the lid on another short entry and call it a night.

Until tomorrow then, adieu.

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flashlight bees

Flashlight bee.About twenty ’till eleven on Sunday night and I have had this “Add New Post” page open since before eight.  Still, though, nothing’s happening.  Same thing happened Thursday night, and so the blog was bereft of Friday writing.

So, I’m not really going to write tonight; I just stopped by to say this one thing:

Keaton calls fireflies “flashlight bees.”

I think that is the coolest name for a bug ever.  First of all, I’ve always thought the word “bees” is hilarious – kind of like the words “monkey” and “donkey,” just innately hilarious.  And, “flashlight bees” is such a wonderful example of the way children invent their own descriptive names and taxonomies for things.

It’s the small things that make me a happy father.

Flashlight bees.  Ha.

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up where they stay all day in the sun

Tuesday night and I’m up at midnight again.  Just now starting to write.

Work’s been brutal, no signs of letup for the next few months; likely not after that either.  Been working on some “freelance” coding (I’m not a programmer by trade, mind you) for a friend’s Ebay store… going good but I get obsessed and end up staring at VBA code into the wee hours.  Anyway, that’s not what I came here to write about…

Sharaun captured Keaton singing her new favorite song on video yesterday.  Too bad she waited until 11:45pm before showing me the video.  Still, I couldn’t resist processing it for the web and getting it online for my people to watch.

[flv:https://blog.pharaohweb.com/video/ariel.flv 320 240]

Here then, without further introduction, is Keaton singing “Ariel.”

Yes, that is a Little Mermaid “tattoo” on her arm.  Yes, it’s still there from her birthday party over a week ago.  No, she won’t let us get near it at bathtime.

Goodnight.