Cathy in the Wright

Well That Was Cool

We had some pretty good thunderstorms last night and this morning. Rain, lightning, thunder...par for the course in July but a rare treat in November. And a treat it was although the dog begs to differ. All that precipitation could have been ice or snow. I don't have to chip away at or shovel rain.

Another treat this morning: The Governor woke up at 5:30 a.m. That's not the treat part. When I finally got him back to sleep, he snoozed soundly - well past the start of preschool. So we're skipping preschool, which means I don't have to get out of my pajamas until at least noon. Rainy day, no where to go, pajamas until lunchtime....God must have forgiven me for using the F word yesterday.

Time to fetch my tea and put my feet up. Sorry if you're stuck in the office today. Or, if you're Chris H., stuck in Arizona with the Cardinals and Denny Green.

A Beautiful Life

Happy Post-Thanksgiving everyone. I'm in a great mood. The Christmas tree is up, no one is currently too sick to stay home from work or school, and the Vikings beat Denny Green and the Cardinals (albeit barely) on Sunday.

Life is grand.

Well, I did pitch a minor tantrum last night but I'm over it now. Stupid Pottery Barn. I received their 2006 Gift Catalog heralding "Free Shipping" on the front cover, so I browsed through and found a neat gift for someone on my list. I got online last night to order, and discovered not only did I happen to pick the one gift exempt from Free Shipping, but that it wouldn't be available to ship to me at my expense until December 12th. The very date I was hoping to have it boxed and shipped off (at my expense) to someone in another state.

F'kin Pottery Barn. Back to the drawing board.

Still, life is pretty good. Or will be once our furnace is repaired. Went out Thanksgiving morning. The heating and cooling wizards in town called about 15 minutes ago - sometime this morning we will be able to melt the frost off the dog's whiskers and watch television without wearing hat and mittens.

And yet...life is just fine. Just fine. Sure, there's 24 bulbs in a row that appear to be burned out right in the middle of a strand of tree lights, our creche scene is missing baby Jesus, and the boys put all the ornaments on the bottom branches of the tree making it look like some sort of evergreen lampshade with fringe, but hey - I'm always one to find the silver lining.

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I'm thinking.
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Hey! We may not have a baby Jesus, but we've got a healthy surplus of sheep. And one of the Wise Men is pretty hot. Joseph better stay on his toes.

Well, my fingers are getting numb, so that's it for this morning. Hope none of you who still check in got a nasty shock from seeing a fresh post.

Happy Monday.

Meh II

Lifted from the very naughty Curmudeonly & Skeptical. I believe Rodger does his own cartoons.

It just gets funnier every time I look at it.

Meh

Kind of matches my mood from yesterday:

Thanks, Gary. You always know how to cheer me.

If Only I Had The Pocket Protector And Clip-On Tie

This morning at breakfast I was reading The Senator's classroom newsletter which came home on Friday. In honor of American Education Week, the students are participating in different "dress-up" days this week, kicking off with Career Day - come dressed as your future job.

So, Senator...today is Career Day. You're supposed to dress as your future job. What do you want to be when you grow up?

Tarzan.

What?!

Never mind.

Um, honey. I'm not saying you can't be Tarzan when you grow up...it's just that I'm not sure you can make much of a career out of being Tarzan.

Well, I don't know what I want to be.

You don't have to.

We ate our Lucky Charms in silence. Then:

Hey, Senator! Remember yesterday at church when I was trying to get you to unbutton the top button on your shirt?

Yeah.

And you said you liked it buttoned all the way up and I told you that you looked like a computer nerd?

Yeah.

And you told me you ARE a computer nerd?

Yeah.

Well, do you want to go to school today dressed as a computer nerd? Computer nerd is a great career.

Yeah!

So I got out his plaid shirt and some pens and we put tape around the bridge of his glasses. Perfect. Well, almost perfect. Something seemed to be missing.

Mom! Don't nerds wear their shirts tucked into their pants?

Oh yes! And then crank up your pants as high as you can!

This is sweet.

Yes it is, son. Yes it is. When your IPO nets you billions, you'll remember who first stuffed your shirt pockets with leaky pens, won't you?

Sigh

I cast my vote for Mark Kennedy today, but I'm not clinging to any fantasy that he's going to win. Ever one to look on the bright side, I will console myself with the fact that the probable winner cannot possibly be any worse than vacating Senator Dayton.

And as if to reward my positive frame of mind, I received the following email from a young man I know:

Cathy,

I am about to go home and vote the party line for the first time in
my life. I am not referring to the democrats either.

Signed,

Not sure if I should be ashamed or not.

This young man graduated from college a couple of years ago and was steeped in the glow of socialism and could tell you every vile thing about Haliburton down to the fact that the company used second-rate soap cakes in their urinals. Quite an about face. But the real world tends to do that for most sensible people.

You're a good sport, Bill, to let me post your email. I hope you don't end up getting too much hell from the rest of the Republicans in the family.

Oh Mikey...I Love It When You Talk Dirty

Hatch Calls Reporter "Republican Whore"

I didn't think it was possible, but if this glory-seeking little boy gets elected governor, I will hold my head up even higher than I did when Jesse Ventura got the keys to the capitol.

Here's the photo that the Star Tribune didn't print with the story. An anonymous insider in Hatch's office snapped this on his cell phone just as Hatch was hanging up the phone with the Duluth News Tribune reporter:

Remember, Mikey. No cape!

No Solljer Left Beehind

Awesome, men. Simply awesome.

Thanks, Gary.

Halloweiners

The Night Writer has a post up this morning about serving hot cider to the throngs of ghost, goblins, Power Rangers, and princesses that crossed his lawn last night, and it reminded me of one very special Halloween from my youth.

I must have been in third or fourth grade...I'm not sure. I was old enough to be embarrassed by my family at any rate. I was getting ready to go out trick-or-treating in our small, friendly, Leave-It-To-Beaver style neighborhood when my mother started getting ready for the locals by hauling out the grill.

Mom?! What are you doing?

Getting the grill ready. I told you I'm serving hot dogs.

I thought you were joking!

Nope.

And she wasn't. She and Dad stood outside and grilled hot dogs. Coffee was offered to the adults; cider to the kids. And she did have a bowl of candy for anyone who didn't want a hot dog or didn't trust the strange woman who was standing over the Weber with a pair of tongs.

I don't think she had many people worried about foreign substances in the hot dogs or drinks. Of course this was back in the days when your last stop on the candy trail was not the local hospital to have your treats x-rayed.

The hot dogs were a big hit, but that didn't stop me from dreading the next day at school when everyone would be talking about the previous night.

Did ya get those red pills from the dentist down in the dead end? Ya chew em up and they show you if you have cavities!

Did you watch cartoons in the big picture window of that brick house on Morningside?

Did you go to Cathy's house?! They were serving hot dogs!

Mrs. Douglas gave out apples. Again.

I couldn't stand to listen, which is a shame because if I had paid more attention, I would have realized that the hot dogs were a success. But my brothers and I pleaded and begged to return to the fold, and next year we handed out Smarties and 3 Musketeers like everyone else.

The Hot Dog Halloween became a family legend, and if we lived in town, I'd be really tempted to revive it.

I'd probably have to wait until The Senator is a little older. He doesn't have a fully-developed sense of shame yet. No fun hauling out the hot dogs until he can be completely embarrassed by them.