Category: pictures

Dirt

This was originally going to be a post about how much cool stuff we have done in the last couple days to our yard.
Followed by some description of the agony in my hamstrings (saved my back by bending my legs) caused by the net movement of about 6,480 lbs of concrete (move twenty seven 60# bags four times each and you’ll see what I mean).

But…

Like all good things around here that story was overridden once I dove into the copious amounts of pictures I took of The Mermaids during this same weekend.

With competition like that, why bother with more complaining.
Although it was something like THIS!!

hoo wahhhhh
Oooh, me hammy!

But I digress.

It started with the biggest mountain of dirt TheWeeOne had ever seen.
She scaled it. Why?
Because it was there.

iz conquerin yer dirt

I filled up one of our raised garden boxes that night while it rained and TheWeeOne conquered mountains.

The next day, LaGrande wasn’t to be denied. Despite dance pictures later in the day, she bravely donned gloves to keep her fingernails clean.
She came, she saw, …

iz gonna roll in yer dirt

… she repeatedly rolled down.

iz rollin in yer dirt

Much bending later and tens of rolled strips of sod, several more trips to the dirt pile, and 10 bags of concrete later, we had another day. This time the sun was out and the parents were a bit more prepared for copious amounts of dirt. We even had a babysitter…sleeping in. Here we have a good likeness of said babysitter.

iz becoming one wit yer dirt

The Meerkats couldn’t stand it any longer, they had to get down and dirty.

iz one wit yer dirt

And what a difference a day (or two) makes. Whereas TheWeeOne couldn’t do anything, up or down, without a helping hand on Friday night here we see her inciting her older mermaid to take the NesDirt plunge.

iz antigravity dirt

Maybe someday I will have the time to show before and after shots of the actual yard-work. Until that time we will keep playing in the dirt.

Happy Birthday WeeOne

[sigh]
The WeeOne isn’t so wee anymore.
Today we celebrated her fourth birthday and we did it in style.

The day would have started off with the traditional breakfast in bed…except…like so many other days The WeeOne was first on the scene. We settled for presents in the living room instead.
Happy Birthday To Me

She was ecstatic to have received yet another Barbie (YAB) and matching dresses for her and her twin-doll, Ruthie.
Happy Birthday To Me,
Happy Birthday To Me,

Soon we decided that a day out and about was called for.
The girls wanted to play at the Fun Center – which they did.
I sure am

We then had lunch in the jungle. This turned out to be one of the less comforting meals we’ve had together – all the moving animals and thunderstorms didn’t leave The WeeOne at ease.
a big girl

But we saved the day with a haircut that made The WeeOne both very happy and appear, decidedly, not so wee.
and I'm
no longer

Then, an evening at home, some dinner, some grandparents, YAB, some fun homemade party hats, and a MUCH sprinkled cake (followed by a massive crash into much crying* at bedtime) meant there was more than enough fun to spread around.
Happy Birthday Memma.
three

* Much crying was followed, extremely quickly, by much snoring.

 

Strolling

Biking, for me, is the most reliable & enjoyable way to get into and out of town. To get “there” it wins hands down but…

If I need to get there post-haste then the absolute fastest way (short of a motorcycle) is to go multi-modal and combine a bike ride with a trip on The Sounder. But…

If I miss the train I wait. And further some of the benefit of the bike ride is gone while the burden of a nip-tuck schedule weighs on my mind and negatively affects my trip across town. But…

If I take the bus I walk. And if I walk on a day like today, when the weather is calm, and when the pressure to get there isn’t primary…well…then…nothing compares to a leisurely stroll through The Market.

The smell of the pastries, the bustle of shopkeepers folding their mobile stations up for the night, a short cup of coffee in your hand, and all of the wacky, harried, smelly, angry, zoned out, and beautiful people doing their thang!

Even a leisurely bike ride across town can’t compare. The inhospitable nature of a city street is only exceeded by the sterile and emotionless freeway for the reward it brings you. The sidewalk is the best place when you are just being there and not really in need of getting there.

If you have the occasion, take a stroll and soak it all in.

Quizmasters

The Mommy and I had a rare weeknight out. With The Mermaids on (yet another) break from school Monya agreed to babysit so we could join Tony and Apryl for a quiz night at the Red Hook Brewery in Woodinville.

Tony and Apryl have done this a few times and cracked the top five a handful of times with one finish in second. This time it was different.

What would a blog be without a little self-aggrandizement? Well it wouldn’t be a blog that’s what, so let’s go.

The Mommy and The Daddy brought enough trivial knowledge to the table to push Tony and Apryl over that last hurdle and together we crushed the next closest competitor by a full five points (in a low-ish scoring event) to take first place.

A sampling of the best answers of the evening?

  • The Smiths. (A studio album released by The Smiths – total guess)
  • Chicken Noodle Soup and Tomato Soup. (Highest selling Campbells Soup)
  • The Ramones. (Listening to some weird song and naming the band)
  • Days, Nights, Wrongs, Rights. (What Charles was in charge of – sitcom)

Thanks to GeeksWhoDrink for hosting an entertaining night and thanks to Tony and Apryl for the invite; we were happy to add some triviality.

oh so trivial

None shall pass

I don’t often want to complain (or feel like I am complainin’) on this blog. I try to keep it light and family friendly.
But there is an aspect of blief.net that serves as a journal of events. So, years from now I might go back and recall Bork Uncle or reread one of my more popular posts about Dandelions.

This is one of those posts.

I don’t want to remember to drink plenty of water.
I don’t do want to forget the pain.
I don’t want to forget the day “Dada Had a Kidney Stone”.

I am still not clear as to whether “events” have passed, as it were, but right now I am relatively pain free and happy to write about it and share more than I ever thought I might.

Monday I noticed the telltale signs. I will spare you details as this is still a happy blog and not rooted in medical reality. Sometimes I like to push the truth around for artistic effect but let’s just say there was stuff in there that shouldn’t be in there – and you know urine you’re in trouble when it looks like coca-cola.

By Wednesday afternoon I had met with my doctor and some analysis strongly suggested that indeed “Dada Had a Kidney Stone”. Wednesday night there was little left to dispute.

Pain
The worst pain in my short life. After waking up Monya for yet another babysitting stint at oh-dark-thirty The Mommy drove me to the ER, the good one…in Bellevue.
I tell you that even knowing how much I detest the close one I wasn’t sure it was the right choice about 1/2 way there. Turns out it probably was. Remembering just how long The Mommy waited for pain relief when she had her appendix out we probably did a darn sight better at Overlake, even with the drive.

I digress.
The Mommy, by the way, was not happy with the reversal of fortunes. She (and we) are much more accustomed to the shoes being on the others foot. Now she knows why I speed drive hurriedly in those situations and now I know why she yells at me when I do.

Back on track
So, here I am, writhing in pain (the nurses words not mine) and the docs are discussing which pain meds to administer, about where they might get it, and who should do it.
Mind you, they were doing this expeditiously I am sure, but in my state of mind time was elongated and every word took ten times longer to travel through the air. Mine didn’t. I answered questions before they finished their statements with single, clipped, answers.

Mr. Writhing-in-Pain, are you allerg…
NO
…ic to any medica…ok.

Have you ever had a kid…
NO
…ney stone bef…ok.

Do you have a primary care phy…
CELMER – C.E.L.M.E.R
sician…ok.

I have to mention that on the way to the ER I was thinking about just how much medicine I wanted them to give me. I thought, “just enough to knock the top off of this” I don’t want to be so whacked out on some crazy drug that I can’t feel anything.

By the time the nurse finally got to the point where she was about to put the needle in my arm I didn’t care if, in fact I was wishing for, an entire dose that could stop a rhino. She said

You’re gonna feel a…
FINE
…big poke.

I didn’t feel anything, in my arm anyway. In fact, if it would have meant whacking off my arm at the elbow in order to get better access to a vein I would have agreed.

Finally, about 2-3 minutes (that felt like about thirty) after they gave me the painkiller in the IV I was brought down to a level where I could speak in full sentences.

No more writhing
So they took me in for a CT scan, for verification purposes, and the doc later tells me that it is pretty small, only 2mm. “Yer gonna be fine.” Like somehow because it is small I don’t have bragging rights or something. Fine whatever. I have since learned that the tube it is in (the ureter) is around 3-4 mm in diameter. He probably said I would be fine knowing that my stone wasn’t nearly as big as my ureter. Based on my experience I would venture that the measurement they are taking is outside diameter.

Now 2 mm is about the size of the head of a pin – just what does that mean? I looked it up, for your benefit and find that it is about the size of the head of a pin.

So smooth and shiny

Hm…I don’t think that quite cuts it. That just doesn’t do it justice. It’s too smooth, too simple.

I imagine it looks more like this.
Much more realistic

Or even this.
Not so smooth and shiny

But it ends up feeling more like this.
hurtful beast

And that’s even in the right spot too.

Okay, enough reliving the pain.
Enough complaining.
This too shall pass.

Leavenworth twenty ten

Let’s get this party started again.
Last month, already, we made our 4th Annual pilgrimage to Leavenworth with a set of friends (and family) we have known for, well, longer than we haven’t known ’em.

The most interesting thing is that Leavenworth this year was on the slopes of Mt. Rainier, in Ashford.
You might ask how we managed that and you would be, if you know the area, a wee bit confused.

Well confuse ya no longer ye map headed varmint!
Know this; When you are speaking of an event that has taken on epic proportions with 11 kids and 10, uh, heavier and older kids, the place becomes less relevant and the memories it evokes, the laughter that ensues (and mostly the fact that the kids don’t know one place from the other cause the snow is the same all around) means we call it by it’s name, the whole weekend is just known as Leavenworth.

This Leavenworth cabin was the best facility for size, variety, and proximity so far. The kids had the run of the place, no fearful spiral staircases, steep dropoffs into frozen rivers, or lackluster flatlands. There was plenty of good runs for a tube save one problem. Snow.

There wasn’t any.

In an El Niño world even the foothills of the great mountain fail to produce and this was that year. Not to be dissuaded, the bigger, heavier kids packed the smaller ones into their respective vehicles and braved car-sickness all the way to Paradise.

See here, a progression of sledding that landed three snow-sailors on their un-muffled ears.

Upon closer inspection, you can see that the Leading Seaman has her eyes closed which doesn’t bode well for any ship.

Further, you will notice that the Coxswain is distracted by events amidships and has no hand on the tiller. Speaking of amidships, you may recognize those boots as belonging to the Midshipman who might rightly be referred to as “dragging anchor”.

After some effort the ship was set to rights and the team set off once again…blind to the front.

Here we see the Captain, and her first mate, in their luxury quarters with proper attire.

Frankly, few hats and gloves were required. Paradise nearly lived up to it’s tropical name despite the snow.

Back at the ranch, later that night, we corralled the restless natives for a moment on the red carpet with the paparazzi.

Good Deed, Bad Deed

This morning I stopped and helped a fellow biker, in the I-90 tunnel. He broke his tire lever on his 4th flat tire of the morning.
As I rode away from that short rest I thought I should have just given him that one because I have two, they are practically disposable items. Oh well.
Compare and contrast that with what happened next; about 15 minutes later on the waterfront.

I was riding a little quickly, near the 15mph speed limit, for the multi-use trail alongside the road but not recklessly.
I usually choose the road because there are just too many pedestrians and entrances on that trail but today there was a ferry, so the trail, while slower than the traffic is actually less hectic.
Approaching the condos, at the foot of the harbor steps, I approached a couple walking their two poodles.
Their right side (my left) was no good because of another pedestrian and I momentarily wished against the multi-use trail.
I kid you not, everything I describe went through my brain in this order…seriously.

Just then, when I was about 40 yards out, the woman moved hard left (to my right towards the steps) and the man briefly did not.
It was at this point that I was off the “gas” and thinking about alternatives and briefly across the transom of my mind flashed this thought

That guy is belligerently hogging the trail with his dog

Maybe that is about the same time I wished against the multi-use trail.
But as suddenly as I thought it, and two steps later the man also moved hard left – I am about 20-30 yards away now – going an estimated 13-14mph.
Okay, clear road, back on the gas and

BAM

The guy jumps, and I mean literally leaps, back into my path, right where he was, and points at me with his free hand kinda like this.
Yahhhhh
Only he didn’t have big poofy hair, a robe, and he was caucasian. But the face was eerily similar and amazingly he made as much noise as this picture…none.

I slammed on my brakes, which are actually pretty mushy with wet and dirt and overuse. I slowed to walking speed just three feet in front of him, still in this pose-
Yahhhhh
and then just as abruptly he non-chalantly assumed a more natural position and walked away with his poodle.

I don’t scare easily, or react abruptly to stimuli such as this (that might be a bad thing…depends on the scenario) so I don’t think he got his desired effect which I can only assume was to make me wreck.
I did get a healthy shot of adrenaline which was released in a string of unprintable words which I can’t remember ever having strung together in exactly that manner before.
Probably not my finest moment – definitely not his.

Another thought that instinctively crossed my mind was to attack him from the back and just as quickly that thought passed.
It’s a good thing it did because the ref always penalizes the second guy and, in the end, he wasn’t worth the wrestle.