Frenzied Daddy

I hate stuff in the road.

I don’t know where it comes from, probably my socialist side, but I hate that when there’s a big thing in the road (bag of trash, et cetera), people just swerve into the other lanes and cause traffic problems rather than just move it. I don’t think you should put it in your car, or whatever, just get it out of the way. And I remember seeing things along the freeways as a kid, wondering where they came from and what their stories were.

Maybe it was the crowbar that came flying at me and stuck in my car so long ago. I don’t really know.

Last year it was a big five gallon tank that looked like it fell off a jeep or something. I was surprised how heavy it was as I dragged it off the highway. Last week, I pulled a big bag of trash out of one lane on Columbia. And today, there was a road sign (“steel plate in roadway”) that had fallen over and the sticklike supports were in the road just ready to be jammed into someone’s wheels or under their suspension. So when I pulled around at 42nd at the construction, I went up the hill a little way (it doubles back) and pulled over.

I thought I successfully navigated down the hill and to the sign but, alas, a sneaky (and thick!) blackberry runner caught me around the ankle and I fell down the rest of the hill, landing on my knees and hands in the muddy gravel. Not an image I like to present. But I dragged it out of the road and stuck it in the construction area anyway. Bah. Maybe I saved someone’s wheel. Maybe not. Just wonder where this hatred comes from.

This is the most lights I’ve put on the house in … Well, ever. There’s a strand along the roof, one in the window, one on the Japanese Maple and even a little net of lights on the Rhody in front. Not to mention the tree.

Oh, Krampus, the tree. We went up to our new favorite lot; ($20 per tree, u-cut) SkyLine Tree Farm. It was surprisingly muddy; I should have worn shoes with better traction. I slipped and … “got mud on my butt” is an understatement. It was still wet an hour later and when I got into the car I sat on my coat. I fell on my hand and after the mud treatment my palm is nice and soft.

finally we settled on a tree. It was cute, and about 8 feet tall. Nice and bushy Noble Fir, with places for bigger ornaments. A great little tree. I crawled under the branches and got to work with the tree saw. And worked, and worked. The wii fit wasn’t much help. I was laying down to get to the trunk, so my angle of attack wasn’t so great and my shoulder still hurts (two days later) from having to hold the saw up. The tree was very wide down at the base and after forty five minutes of sawing I realized the cut was all twisted and wouldn’t match up anyway.

Ms B gave me permission to start again; so I went up a foot and cut it again. It only took about 15 minutes after starting that cut. Tied our kill to the roof of the Ford and drove home.

When we got it home, we realized a flaw in our plan. The base wasn’t long enough to touch the bottom of the stand while the branches sat on the ring at the top of the stand. After trying to “just screw it in” (the cats knocked it over) and then trying some blocks under the tree to hold it up (Ima gonna put this tree up on blocks in my yard and fix it right up) (the cats knocked it over again), Ms B decided that a straight, shorter tree with fewer branches was better than a taller tree tilted at at 45 degree angle. Honest, I thought the angle tree was nice. But I pulled it out and lopped off the ring of bottom branches with the circular saw.

Now, it’s about 6 feet tall and actually kind of cute, in a “why did we buy a 4 foot tree” sort of way.

The kittens adore it, but most importantly, the girls love it. With the lights on the house, it’s been pretty fantastic. Now I’m ready for hibernation- I’m tired and sore and my knuckles are all scratched up.

As the nights grow colder and I start to shiver (not likely), I’m considering pajamas. Usually I call it good, with a pair of sweatpant shorts and some socks, and maybe a t-shirt. But I have a friend over at Big Feet PJs who sells Adult footed pajamas — they’d be perfect for lounging around the house, especially if I weren’t going to work (and just hanging out in the basement). For me, however, they might be a little too warm. On the other hand, you can order them with the butt-flap, so they’ve got that going for them.

I noticed on Reddit this link: now that Canada has Google Street View, we can show you the horrible truth. Don’t let stoners work in your public signs department. I shared it with my 4 friends on Facebook, and then shared it with Miss B. Her response? “Haha. Someone probably slapped a decal on it.”

She’s so smart!

Miss K was superthrilled today to go to Kindergarten. She’s going to our neighborhood school, because she didn’t get into Alameda (there weren’t enough slots open for her). She doesn’t know the difference, but Miss B was extolling the virtues of not following in your sister’s footsteps to school. “And you won’t get compared with me by all your teachers…” … uh, humble much? ( Actually, I’m thrilled that her self-confidence is so high ).

We dropped her off with her backpack full of supplies. She might get a backpack from SchoolhouseSupplies.Org, but she may not. Again, it’s only her first day of kindergarten; she doesn’t have high expectations to compare her experience with. An interesting thing I noticed is that the neighborhood school didn’t require as many supplies as Alameda did- fewer overall supplies, and everything into the community buckets. I was originally thinking it was because that school is getting a lot more federal funds ( because of the no child left behind act) but it might be a difference expectation on the local kids.

Another one of those mornings where I have to balance between dad-the-teddy-bear who likes to play with his kids and dad-the-grizzly-bear who needs to get to work. It’s frustrating sometimes that while I want to play with the TT and she wants to play with me (this is her last full week before she starts Kindergarten next friday), I do have other obligations and responsibilities that she just doesn’t cotton to. Like going to work.

Anyway; I’m here now and workin like the dickens. Hope she has a nice time at the neighbor’s.

Is it true that girls grow up to marry their dads? To look for, in a partner, similar qualities to what they had in their fathers?

I compare myself to my Dad In Law, Rich, and I see some similarities- we both make sacrifices to “take care of” our families, we’re both engaged with our spouses (and kids). We’re both “family guys” – our aspiration is to take care of our families, not to make a million dollars or rule the world. Of course, there are some differences. He mumbles was in the Navy, for instance.

If this is true- what qualities would the TT or the DQ see in me that she would want to have in a partner? And what qualities do I have in me that I wouldn’t want them to think are appropriate? I don’t (seriously) beat them, for instance. What about you? What do you see in your women and their fathers, and what do you see in yourself?

On reflection, I don’t think this is the first time I’ve contemplated this.

I almost deleted this photo. In the thumbnail it looks like a photo of something I’d never be able to shoot; maybe a … well I’ll let you figure out what it looks like. But it is in fact, not only a totally mundane shot but I don’t think I meant to actually shoot the camera. I was abusing the sensor light to make it easier for someone else to do something. (Yep, puposefully vague ).

And getting bigger. I’ll have to stop calling her the Tiny Tyrant (TT). “MB” (miss bossy) is a little too close to “Miss B” and “Ms B.” You folks have any suggestions?

Miss B is back from Washington. She had a great time- visited Forks (where Twilight was filmed) and hung out with a few fostered cats. She came back all relaxed, refreshed, and ready to rumble with Miss K. On one hand, they’re doing a great job playing with each other, but on the other hand, sometimes it sounds like two moutain lions in a wet sack. Normal for kids, eh?