I feel like such a slacker in my research methods now

"Tim Jenison, a Texas-based inventor, attempts to solve one of the greatest mysteries in the art world: 
How did Dutch master Johannes Vermeer manage to paint so photo-realistically 150 years before the invention of photography? Here's how he conducted his experiment."

Go here to read about it.

Of course, he cheated with a milling machine instead of using a period lathe.

I kid! I kid!

Anyhow, it's interesting to see the experimental archeology process he used.

Field Trip

Today was the second-to-last day at Y Camp for Sweet Daughter, and they planned a cook-out at George Washington’s Birthplace. That only meant 40 miles out of my way, round trip, but what the heck. I showed up a little after 4:00 and the grill was going. They were cooking hot dogs over a third of an 8 lb. bag of charcoal and … hadn’t thought to bring any implements. They did have Matchlight charcoal AND lighter fluid (two is one!), so maybe that made up for it. Then I noticed the director trying to move hot dogs around with … a plastic picnic knife.

I told her I had a small multi-tool in my purse with pliers on it if she wanted to use it. She looked at me funny, for some reason. So I offered her my pocket knife.  Then I just offered to take over the grilling if she’d like. I also pulled two deep tin dishes out of my car to hold the cooked hot dogs.  Just so you know, I do not usually grill. I’m never making that much food at once, or feeding that many people. Adding more charcoal when you can’t remove the grill was interesting. As was the fact that it was impregnated with go-juice.

I got some interesting reactions. Some shrank away – one kid in particular said “is that a POCKET KNIFE?!!11??” while skimming past the hot grill. And another stood at the prescribed safe distance and said “Hey! Is that a Gerber?” (It was.) “My first knife was a Gerber! Got any SOGs? Those are my favorite!” (I do.)

Sixty hotdogs later, my very hot knife was returned to my pocket. Thank goodness for the plastic on the handle.

After that, kids who had permission to go wading with their shoes on got to go fishing. I found that one way of hushing the loud adults who were countermanding the instructions of the park ranger was to inform them that they may be standing in poison ivy. That distracted them for a bit.

 

And the view over the creek was lovely.

 

 

Island Creamery

Sweet Daughter loves ice cream. It's her favorite thing to eat, so when she earns a "good behavior" report card*, we go out for ice cream.

Last school year, she saved up every single trip for when we went to Chincoteague, specifically for Island Creamery.

The first night she tried their Oreo ice cream. It was a hit. I had Snickers Cheesecake.

 

 

Day two: SD went with the tried and true Oreo. I went with Java Jolt sundae with hot fudge in a waffle bowl. This was "ice cream for dinner" night. Don't ask, it wasn't my idea.

 

 

Day three: They were out of Oreo! (HORRORS!) So SD went with vanilla and rainbow sprinkles. I went with Pony Tracks (fudge and peanut butter, and mini peanut butter cups).

 

 

Day four: Still out of Oreo, so again with the vanilla/sprinkles combo for SD, and I had Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream.

 

 

Last day? Oreo was back! YAY! And I had Iced Nirvana. I believe this is espresso ice cream with fudge and chocolate chips.

 

 

Yes. Four report cards and five trips. If we'd been there six days, there would have been six trips. You have your traditions, we have ours.

 

 

*As I've told SD, this is not a "bribe" or extortion payment. I expect her to behave well at school. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate the effort, and we can't go out and recognize the fact that she's a pretty darn good kid.

Kid Shoot 2013

We’re planning another “Kid Shoot” for the first weekend in June this year … an event we did last year to introduce kids to shooting with pellet guns. Sweet Daughter started out with a pellet pistol at age four and it was invaluable for her learning the Four Rules in a slightly less lethal environment than say, with a .22. Hearing protection wasn’t needed, and an adult could grab the barrel of the gun to keep control as necessary.

Almost 4 years ago!!

Sound like fun? If you act NOW we’ll break out the .22’s for the older kids … and the adults who are new shooters! What could be more fun than blasting away at reactive targets?

But wait! There’s MORE!! We have special celebrity guests! Dr.Mike, Cutler to the Stars™, will make another appearance this year (and will hopefully be prevailed upon to grill bacon-wrapped Vidalia’s again) all the way from North Carolina. In addition to Dr. Mike, we also have a special extra long distance guest … coming all the way from the Volksrepublik of Massachusetts … Jay G!

So, we have pellet-gun goodness! (and plenty of ammo)

The opportunity to bring new shooters to the range in a very non-stressful environment. (Unless Zombie Clown targets really bother you.)

Rock Star guests!

It’s also Open Carry weekend!

And there will food and drink, and possibly even a birthday cake for a milestone birthday.

The proposed date is June 1^st, with a rain date of June 2^nd.  We thinking about starting late morning, early afternoon. If the Shoot goes off as planned on Saturday, is there any interest in a BLOGMEET in Fredericksburg on Sunday with Michael W. and Jay G? Oh, and me, too, I suppose.

EDIT: Or we could do a blogmeet at a pub ... let me know if you're interested in any of this and we'll figure something out ...

EDIT AGAIN: I suppose I should give at least a general location, eh? About a half hour east of Fredericksburg, VA, and an hour south of Waldorf, MD, depending on the traffic.

Kid Shoot I, 2012

I don’t know who ordered the weather, but dang. It was perfect. In the 70’s with warm sun and a cool breeze.  Broken Andy brought an inflatable bouncy thing which was a stroke of genius as far as letting kids (especially the ones that traveled more than 10 miles) work off some energy before settling down to break things with pellets.

JB Miller brought a box of clays and wire coat hangers and did some wire origami magic and made a cool hanging clay holder thing that I didn’t get any pictures of. This, along with some balloons, some hanging soda cans, some soda cans on a ledge, and a couple of store-bought reactive targets made up “the range’.

There were 11 adults, all told and 10 kids. 6 of the kids belonged to gunnie-type parents, and 4 were classmates of Sweet Daughter’s. Michael W. (Cutler to the Stars) started things off by letting the kids handle a tomato and note the resemblance to their own selves – a skin covering firm, yet kind of squishy insides. Then he promptly shot it with a pellet pistol and showed them the damage and explained that shooting a person would do the same thing, so don’t do it.

"Ve have veys of making you talk ..."

The kids came and went on the range, taking turns with a grown-up helping them out, and playing on the swing set and sandbox when they weren’t waiting. It seemed to go really well, and I don’t think there was a kid there that didn’t have a grin of accomplishment at one point or another. 

The adults got their chance as well, and I may have another mom hooked on the idea of shooting. After getting the hang of the pellet rifle, she pointed at my pistol and asked if she could shoot that as well. I explained that there wasn’t a safe place in my little yard to do so, but that there was talk of getting a “Mom Shoot” together for beginners and she should really come to that. I kept a calm and neutral tone, but inwardly I was jumping up and don’t clapping my hands yelling “WE’VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!!!”

Then there was the food. Oh, my goodness, the food. Everybody brought stuff. There were burgers and hot dogs. Michael W. took Vidalia onions, quartered them and wrapped them in bacon, secured with a toothpick. And then he grilled them over low heat.

Before

After

Mr. A Girl brought deviled eggs and cupcakes. There was pumpkin crunch. There was rainbow Jell-O. And for party favors, there were little chocolate revolvers.

But guess who the one kid was who didn’t shoot? Sweet Daughter. After everyone except JB Miller and his lovely wife had left, she said “HEY! You didn’t call me up to shoot!” I replied that she never asked to shoot, and I wasn’t going to have her perform like a trained monkey if she wasn’t interested. JB graciously donated his leftover clays and high-tech hangers and she had at it.

All in all, I think it was a successful event. The kids were all well behaved and considering that there was a wide range of ages, all interacted very well with each other. The adults seemed to enjoy the afternoon almost as much as the kids did.

In the lessons learned section, I think having activities other than shooting for the kids to do was key. While we had a ratio of almost one kid per adult (an it seemed to work well), but I think it would work with fewer adults. Reactive targets are the only way to go, and I think the ones that make some noise (plink, pop, crack) as well as visibly changing form when hit were the most popular. We had hand wipes down on the firing line to use after handling pellets. We had plenty of inexpensive shooting glasses to pass around. We had name tags. While I was still riding a wave of adrenaline that evening I said I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Two days later, I don't think my opinion has changed.

Another Kid Shoot update

So, I was checking Sweet Daughter’s homework this morning before it was turned in. One of the assignments was to use her spelling words in a sentence.

“I’m having a kid shoot.”

Yeah. No way that could possibly be misinterpreted, right? I fired off a quick email to her teacher explaining that we were teaching kids to shoot BB and pellet guns safely, and that we had a retired policeman and firearms instructor managing the firing line, and that SD was not actually planning on shooting kids. She got back to me, laughing, saying she’d been hearing all about this event for some time, and that she understood my house was finally getting cleaned up.

*headdesk*

In case you are on the fence about attending, it’s Saturday, June 2nd, in my backyard, starting around 2:00. Email me if you need more details. There will be gunnies, non-gunnies, future gunnies and what sounds like lots of food. The weather is supposed to be beautiful.A high of 77 degrees, mostly sunny and no rain. But don't believe SD about the state of the house.

And, it’s open carry weekend!

Kid Shoot Update

Yeah, yeah. As in letting the kids shoot, not shooting the kids. Now that I’ve got the disclaimer out of the way …

We’re still planning on June 2, rain date June 3. Michael W., retired L.E.O., firearms instructor and Cutler to the Stars® will be here, and I’ve had at least one other adult offer to come by and lend a hand. There’s pellet gun fun to be had, a swing set, a sprinkler to run through, and a grill for a post-shoot cookout.

Sweet Daughter’s BFF will be here along with the rest of her family. Our neighbor and his son hope to show up, and Broken Andy plans on coming with his kids. I tentatively mentioned the event to a couple of other local moms and I was surprised at the enthusiastic response. That weekend is already booked for them, but the asked if they could attend the next one, and two moms have stated that *they* want to learn to shoot as well.

So, if you’re interested (with, or without kids), let me know and I’ll get you directions and details.

Oh, and rumor has it there may be a cake. Or something with candles. Lots and lots of candles.

Open Carry Weekend Reminder and my 2 cents

Just a reminder that OC weekend is coming up June 2-3.

It seems there is a segment of the gunnie population that is against Open Carry, and a few of them quite vociferously so. I was going to add my 2 cents to the discussion (echo chamber?) when I realized that I can’t do it as well as Linoge, or the comments here , or Robb, or a bunch of others, and it doesn’t matter.

While some will bemoan my lack of “training”, Sweet Daughter will be explaining to a kid in Target who wanted to know “why that lady has a gun” that I wear a gun to keep her safe.  Others will assume I must be an “attention whore” and I wear a gun in order to start conversations. That being said, if you're staring at my gun which just happens to be next to my left boob and you hurriedly complement the azalea in my shopping cart (directly in front of my left boob) as a way to prove you weren't really staring at my gun or my boob, I will respond in a pleasant manner even though I really didn’t notice you staring because I just want to check out and go home. And no, I’m not just waiting for my opportunity to engage in “ass-clownery” so I can pump my fist in the air and yell “SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED!!” when in fact I’m a raging introvert that just wants to do my errands in safety.

I have my own reasons to OC and I’m very thankful that I live in a part of the world where I can do so.  If there are those that don’t like OC, then by all means – don’t do it. I’ll make a deal with you – I won’t tell you what do to, and you don’t tell me what to do. Because I don’t remember asking your opinion, and I certainly don’t need your permission.

Kid Shoot

As in kids shooting, not shooting kids.

At the NoVA get-together in Stafford at the end of April, the topic of “Take your Daughter to the Range Day” came up. To sum up a long, convoluted conversation, the following were observed …

Some ranges have an age limit due to insurance regulations, and so young kids can’t shoot.

Getting kids started with a pellet gun means you don’t have to wear hearing protection, and so instruction is easier.

An adult can grab the barrel of a pellet gun (or pellet pistol) to maintain muzzle control without worrying about injury.

Targets can be hung at a more appropriate height and distance, and they can be reactive.

Pellet guns, with a proper backstop can be shot in the backyard.

There was more, but you get the idea ...

So, is anybody interested in a Kid Shoot? The date that was kicked around was the first weekend in June (plan on Saturday, rain date for Sunday). Michael W. (retired LEO and firearms instructor) said he’d come up and lend a hand, and JB Miller has a couple of pellet guns and found a really cool target. Sweet Daugter even volunteered to share her purple pistol.

Sweet Daughter, age 4, first time shooting

I could host it here* -- there’s a place to set up in the shade, a swing-set, and BrokenAndy volunteered to bring an inflatable bouncy thing so the kids have something to do in between turns shooting because I’m not anticipating long attention spans.  Frequent changes in activity, yes-- sort of like squirrels on meth. We could wrap up with the adults taking a turn or two, and throwing stuff on the grill.  I’m sure that if this is successful, there will be other ones planned before the summer is over.

I’m open to suggestions – let me know if you might be interested in coming (with or without kids) at dethosp@gmail.com.

*I’m about a half hour from Fredericksburg, VA, about an hour from the north side of Richmond, and about 45 minutes from Waldorf, MD.

Sweet Daughter (ahem) cooks

At MTA Sweet Daughter watched our cook prepare this amazing salmagundi.

I know, I know. Navel oranges hadn't been developed yet.

Later that day, she decided to make her own "salad". She took the redware pan we'd make the venison pasty in (with bit of crust still attached) and asked for contributions. There was a heel of cabbage, and a leftover carrot and parsnip. I pulled some onion slices out of the fire (a.k.a. trash pit) and the cook donated the top of a leek. There are a few red potato slices as well.

For the finishing touch, she added grapes. She then wanted it placed over the fire. Our cook graciously indulged her, and added water.

Chock full o' vitamins!

After a while, it was taken from the fire and allowed to cool. I was then asked to sample it. Uh ... I thought this was all "pretend", hence the vegetables salvaged from the fire pit.

"Try it, Mama!"

I tried to distract and redirect, to deflect, to otherwise figure out a way I could weasel out with my honor intact. It was impossible to even try. What self-respecting mom could say "no" to this?? Not I. So knowing the history of the grapes (washed before being added to the melange), I chose to impale myself on that particular sword, figuring that the whole thing had been heated pretty thoroughly, and I wasn't likely to die from a few grapes. Well, I'm typing this so I can affirm that I did not die, or even get ill, but those were some interesting grapes. They were still hot and completely infused with the flavor of onion. With a hint of venison.

For the event at Petersburg next month, I'm planning ahead. There will be kid-friendly food to prepare and if I have anything to do with it, grapes and onions never the twain shall meet.

Happy All Hallows Eve

I survived the parade and party at school with Sweet Daughter today. Swim class was attended, and then trick or treating ensued with her BFF. While watching her go down a driveway and up the steps of a house, an older gentleman urged me to keep a close eye on her. I assured him that I was. Well, "someone" was stealing kids the next county over. Without ever taking my eyes off of her, I stated quite emphatically that "I'd like to see somebody try."

He quit trying to talk to me after that. Maybe it's because I thought to myself, "Self? What better way to 'steal' a kid than to act like you're the good, helpful guy?" and I kept aware of his whereabouts the whole time. Maybe he didn't smell "victim" and went elsewhere, or most likely, he was just trying to be nice and strike up a random conversation and I wasn't cooperating. He was there with two grandchildren, and chances are he was just fine, though a little odd in choice of ice-breaking conversation. Either way, it didn't matter. My job was to make sure SD stayed safe and had a good time. Mission accomplished.

Last Monday, Sweet Daughter and I went to the Regional Amusement Park. The good news is that I found some great discount tickets online, and the weather was perfect like only the back side of a hurricane can be. Mid 80’s, sunny, breezy, and no humidity. Not only that, there weren’t any lines. Nada. None. Zilch. Zippo.  The longest we had to wait was for any given attraction to finish its current run and then it was our turn.

The bad news is that they don’t let you go armed. They don’t even let you carry a pocket knife -- although they did let me check it at the front gate so I didn’t have to go back to the car. (Well that, and the fact that none of the roller coasters that SD could ride had enough room for my knees.)

SD wanted to wear matching shirts, and while I’ve always secretly laughed at families that do that, I will admit that there are some distinct advantages. The people running the rides can tell which kid you belong to. If, heaven forbid, you were to get separated, you can point to yourself and say “she was wearing a shirt like this!” But best of all, if you choose wisely, you can influence how you are perceived.  Because nothing says “I’m not a victim, nor am I a threat -- unless you mess with me first” like matching Kalishnikitty shirts.

Peteresburg and Peeps

We went to Battersea Plantation almost two weeks ago for a reenactment. It's not a large event, but the site treats us well (and feeds us on Saturday night), it's fairly close, it's kid friendly and it's one of our favorite events. Saturday started off okay, and I even made an apple raisin pie. In the afternoon, it rained. A lot.

The rain stopped, so we ran up to the house and grabbed some dinner, and then went back to to camp, and it rained some more.

Then, we got a rainbow! (Sorry, it wasn't a double, and nobody cried.) It was a full arc, and probably the brightest one I've ever seen. Sweet Daughter learned all about leprechauns in school for St. Patrick's Day, and warned us about how they'd trick us if we saw one.

This photo doesn't even begin to do it justice.

Once the rain stopped, a fire was built and it was time for the annual First Roasting of the Peeps. As you can see, we've been collecting them for a few months.

And the supporting cast was brought out as well. In addition to the bacon, we brought S'Mores supplies. Yes, those are Goldfish crackers.

Years of research have resulted in the best method: Wrap thin-sliced, pre-cooked bacon around a Peep, secure with toothpicks, then roast over an open fire.

Add graham crackers, chocolate, and prepare for your eyes to roll back in your head. It was enough for me to forget my wet shoes.

I didn't expect this, either.

Sweet Daughter woke up from her nap and projectile vomiting ensued. The bedding is soaked, there is vomit on the rug and in my shoes. Poor kid.

Update: The Festivus Vomitus is occurring about every half hour. I must say the red Gatorade has added a rather nice touch to the Christmas color scheme. Maybe I'll actually be awake when Santa shows up this year.

Compare and contrast

Another reason I'm glad I don't live in Californina -- asking a kid to remove an American flag from his bike "for his own safety".  The idea has me so livid I just sputter when I try to articulate it. It is infurating on countless levels.

Compare with what Sweet Daughter brought home from school yesterday:

I'm sure she wasn't the only kid in her class that got to say that her Daddy and both grandfathers were veterans (although I bet she's the only one with a grandfather who fought in WWII). I don't think telling a kid to take his American flag off his bike would go over very well here.

H/T to Alan and my Blogfather.

Shorter Half expresses an opinion regarding a Constitutional Convention

Shorter Half received the following e-mail traffic, titled "Proposing that the legislature have to live with same rules as we". The first message said: 

I know there are dangers with a Constitutional Convention but this is worth considering.

Attached was this (and it was unattributed)

The Time Has Indeed Come!

Governors of 35 states have already filed suit against the Federal Government for imposing unlawful burdens upon them. It only takes 38 (of the 50) States to convene a Constitutional Convention.

This will take less than thirty seconds to read. If you agree, please pass it on.

An idea whose time has come!

For too long we have been too complacent about the workings of Congress. Many citizens had no idea that members of Congress could retire with the same pay after only one term, that they specifically exempted themselves from many of the laws they have passed (such as being exempt from any fear of prosecution for sexual harassment) while ordinary citizens must live under those laws. The latest was to exempt themselves from the Healthcare Reform ... in all of its forms. Somehow, that doesn't seem logical. We do not have an elite that is above the law.

I truly don't care if they are Democrat, Republican, Independent or whatever. The self-serving must stop.

A Constitutional Convention - this is a good way to do that. It is an idea whose time has come. And, with the advent of modern communication, the process can be moved along with incredible speed. There is talk out there that the "government" doesn't care what the people think. That is irrelevant. It is incumbent on the population to address elected officials to the wrongs afflicted against the populace...you and me. Think about this...

The 26th amendment (granting the right to vote for 18 year-olds) took only 3 months & 8 days to be ratified! Why? Simple! The people demanded it. That was in 1971...before computers, before e-mail, before cell phones, etc.

Of the 27 amendments to the Constitution, seven (7) took 1 year or less to become the law of the land...all because of public pressure.

I'm asking each addressee to forward this Email to a minimum of twenty people on their Address list; in turn ask each of those to do likewise.

Someone responded with:

When I first saw this one going around the emails, I thought it was a good idea. But then I thought about it and I thought this won’t do a thing for me personally. Nor will it help restore Constitutional governance. I believe our legislation we will be unveiling at the convention will be much more effective than the one below. It too will require a Constitutional Convention but put the powers back where they belong. It will also beat back these regulations from these ever-growing and over-reaching agencies like the EPA who are getting more powerful and gaining a stranglehold on our lives. I would rather have their power reduced and defunded. That will change my life. The bill below will not as I believe Congress would only find new ways to spend our money to get themselves the power and the entitlements. A good point is the automatic raise in pay they get. We can’t do a convention for each of these affronts. Instead, we can defund their ability to do it. I dunno – still thinking about it. I’m just sharing the point at where I am on thinking through this.

And then Shorter Half responded with:

Agreed.

One way to handle the Congressional pay issue would be to decouple Congressional pay from military and civil servant pay – right now, NO employee of the Federal Government (excepting the President and Vice President) is allowed to make more than a Congressman. And, to make sure that senior officials get paid more than junior officials, the pay tables are pretty much all calculated off that max base pay, with each step down getting less, with the pay ratios painstakingly established to try and make the pay increase match the responsibility increase, while staying competitive enough that we don’t lose all the good troops to the civilian economy about the time they get fully trained up. The fact is, right about the time they are a true master of their specialty is about the time that the reality of family expenses really hits home. . . and the civilian economy is willing to pay handsomely for their technical skills.

This pay rule currently provides leverage other politicians can use against Congressmen – “My opponent claims to support the troops, yet he repeatedly voted against fair pay raises for our troops in combat!” As it stands right now, you can’t vote against a pay raise for the Congresscritters without voting against a pay raise for PVT E-1 Snuffy in Afghanistan with a pregnant wife alone at Fort Bragg, ¾ of a continent away from her hometown of Goat Path, Montana (Pop. 100).

However, there are two things to recall when proposing changes: 

1. Anything that can be done via statute can be undone by statute the very next day if both houses vote it through and the President signs it. So, simple statutory law will not restrain Congress (and Congressional Rules are even weaker).
2.  If it goes into the Constitution, it had better be important enough a principle to send boys off to die over it. Because that’s what their oath says.

 So, to use the Congressional pay issue as a thought experiment. . .

If you decoupled COLA increases from base pay (the rule about staying below Congressional pay rates only affects base pay automatically) altogether by statute, you could decide how to best implement a prohibition on Congress receiving any COLA increase, ever. (If they need a pay raise, they would have to pass it as a base pay increase – but anyone wishing to give the troops an across the board pay raise could do it via a fat COLA increase without raising Congressional pay. That little game of using the troops to politically blackmail people into voting for a Congressional pay increase just became unusable.)

Or, you could pass an amendment that states that pay earned directly from the government is tax free, except for elected officials. (It never made sense to me for the Federal Treasury to withhold funds paid from the Federal Treasury in order to pay them into the Federal Treasury as taxes, anyway.) PVT Snuffy (or the janitor at the Federal building in downtown Atlanta) would happily forgo an annual 2-3% pay raise if 100% of his pay was tax-free, even when he wasn’t in a combat zone.

However, the risks of a Constitutional Convention far outweigh the benefits. Just look at the difference between the Articles of Confederation and the original Constitution. . . and that resulted from a convention that was only supposed to “tweak” the Articles! Any future Constitutional Convention will be dragged out until it is dominated only by those who can afford to not go to work for a year or longer. Neither George Soros, anyone George Soros would be willing to pay living expenses to for attending (the man has BILLIONS, having him replace any lost income – or even double their old pay - by fellow-minded Convention attendees wouldn’t even dent his personal entertainment budget. . . and there are many mega-wealthy socialist fellow travelers like him, starting with Bloomberg and almost ANY popular entertainer), a lifelong welfare recipient, nor a 23 year kid who dropped out of college “to find himself and get his chi in balance with Gaia” are likely to write a new Constitution that I would approve of. The people who WOULD be likely to produce a Constitution that I could support are also generally the LEAST likely be able to show up in large numbers, every day, all day and often into the night, month after month.

If we could pull that kind of majority support to stick through the long haul and keep the crazy out of the new Constitution, then by definition, we would have more than enough political power to achieve anything we desire in the Constitution via the traditional amendment route. Without the risk of a Constitution that, for example, formally surrenders ultimate sovereignty of the United States to the transnational debating club called the UN. . . placing our liberty at the tender mercy of the same people who put Iran and Syria on the Human Rights Committee.

If you want to imagine a modern Constitutional Convention, think of the half dozen silliest or most dangerous Public Propositions you have ever heard about from ANY state in the Union. That’s the sort of stuff that would end up in a Convention, were it held under current social and political conditions. (“Everyone has a right to an above-average income” – there was a movement to do exactly THAT, in California a few decades ago! The first time I heard that statement my brain derailed. . . )

A Constitutional Convention is a complete reboot and from-scratch system install of the nation. Like reformatting your hard drive and putting a brand new operating system on a perfectly empty drive. I could see doing one after a successful rebellion against a truly tyrannical government. . . but we haven’t even fully exhausted the FIRST of the three options (soap box, ballot box, cartridge box, in that order) for government change. Armed rebellion isn’t even on the horizon at this time, so I would prefer to avoid altogether the reorganization procedure that generally only works well immediately after one.

Constitutional Conventions work well then, because it’s really apparent to EVERYONE that the old system was a failure, AND you generally can legally exclude the side that lost the war from participating. Not the case here.

Shorter Half

If you think he’s only a gun geek, you haven’t heard him talk military history. And even that pales in comparison to his political junkie geekery. He reads legal code for fun. Considering that when we met, I had little interest in modern firearms, and next to no interest in politics, I’m still not sure how that whole courtship thing came about. I have a feeling that if, when the time comes, Sweet Daughter has an incompetent "Government" or "Poli Sci" (or whatever they'll be calling it by then) teacher, things are going to get ... interesting.

Blog-roll update

Wow. I’m really behind on adding people, and honestly, I don’t know where some of you are coming from. Maybe I should rephrase that to wonder why the tens of you are stopping by, unless it’s just out of sheer curiosity to see what tangent I’m taking this week. Not that I’m complaining, and I’m not fishing for reassurances, but as an unpopular kid growing up, I find it amusing that people stop by on purpose, and it’s not to try to T.P. my dad’s trees.

First of all, I am very remiss in not adding bluesun at Dead Man Dance sooner. He’s been commenting since the beginning, and has stuck with me from bayoneting pot roasts to making 18th century gingerbread to listening to me (of all newbies!) offer thoughts on carrying a concealed pistol.

I’ve added Daddy Bear’s Den with whom I have that whole “middle-aged parent” thing going on, and The Clue Meter.

Ah, and the Blazing Orange. He was one of the first bloggers I met in Charlotte before the “Agh! Too many people for me to remember!” thing hit. I know he can pick me out of a police line-up because he and Caleb were standing back-to-back checking out who was taller, just as I stood up from behind the table and tried to scoot past them. It was kind of funny, at least from my perspective, but maybe you had to be there. (And no, I’m not really 7 feet tall. Stop spreading rumors, JayG!)

Anyhow, if for some odd reason you link to this foolishness, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours let me know and I’ll reciprocate. Unless you creep me out, or something.

Queen of the sky

During WWII, my dad was a bombardier on a B-17 (I believe it was a B-17G), the Stars and Stripes. I don’t know much about what he did – he’s talked about it more with others than with me, but I know that he bombed Germany, and I know he and his whole crew completed their 30 missions successfully. While visiting last week, there was a B-17G at the local airport for 2 days, and the crew called my dad as asked if he would like to come out for a visit. At 94, my dad’s mind is still as sharp as a tack, but his knees aren’t so good, and 25 years of smoking when he was younger have caught up with his lungs. Unfortunately, he had to decline.

A couple of days later, we took Sweet Daughter to a park to do some kid stuff, instead of all that boring grown-up talking, and I heard a very distinctive growly rumbly hum. Once you’ve heard it, you can’t possibly mistake it for anything else. I looked up, and there she was, the Aluminum Overcast, the Queen of the Sky.

Pirate Fest (LOTS of pictures of the kid)

Held at Darnall's Chance in Upper Marlboro, MD, this was a fun thing to do with a 4 1/2-year-old. First she put her costume together, The only thing she wore today that she wears at events were her shoes. Ratty old shift? Check. Imported Indian calico headrag? Check. Ragged skirt AND fancy skirt? Check. Sword, hook, compass, spyglass and plenty of necklaces? Check, check, check, check and check. The most rightous piratical stockings ever? Aye, Matey!

She walked the plank, she swung in a hammock. She climbed up ...

over, and down the rigging.

She dug for burried treasure. She rolled a barrel through a fenced-in path, remembering to push on the right side to go left, and the left side to go right.

She earned coins for each task, and then traded them in for a key to break the secret code on the directions to find the secret treasure. We headed north for 25 paces. We turned west. We found more clues, we went hither and yon until she found the secret doorway and got her official pirate papers.

She was in a parade.

She fenced -- oddly enough, she is very left-hand dominant when it comes to writing and eating. But she bats and fences (and shoots) right handed.
 

This would be her Scots blood showing and she handles this thing like a broadsword.

She got to see the parrots and other birds.

Note: I do not like things that flutter. At all. I avoid butterflies, even. When the bird flew off her head TOWARDS ME, I'm sure I looked startled, to say the least. But I did NOT jump, or scream, DFO, snatch my darling child to my bosum and flee, or any of the other things that flew (hahahahah) through my mind. Yay me.

She checked out the pillory. And looked like she was plotting.

She got a drink. Because that's all there was. That and snowcones and popcorn. The food vendor decided not to show. Good thing she was too busy to realize she was hungy.

And, she entered the costume contest. They were interviewed, demonstrated their pirate walk, and were then ranked by applause. Well, she made the final 5, but one parent can only whoop and holler so loud, and when other contestes have more family in the audience ...she didn't make the final three.

Here she is during the interview. The MC asked her what happened to her hand. She was quick to explain that nothing was wrong with her hand -- it was just a costume. Really. She was fine. Please don't worry. It's okay. Costume, see?

I tried to remind her how we'd talked about the fun part was putting the costume together, but she wasn't buying it. She KNEW her costume was better than the rest. I chalked it up to a good lesson in "Life's not fair, so suck it up, Cupcake" and started to procede along those lines, when a couple of the judges came over looking sheepish. They knew that the results didn't reflect the best costume, just the loudest supporters. So, the MC donated a copy of a children's book he'd written (Broadside Ben and the Big Brass Cannon by Cliff Long), and was kind enough to autograph it. (BTW, the book is a hoot. The Dutch ships are flying pennants with tulips on them, for starters.)

All in all an excellent if exhausting day. I think we'll go back next year.

"Mama - This bird isn't going potty on my head, is he?"

Belay the strawberry pickin’!

Plans for tomorrow included going to a pick-you-own-strawberries place with Sweet Daughter. That was until my boss told me that he’ll be at a historic site tomorrow where they’re having “Pirate Day” for the kids. He’s teaching fencing, and there will be face painting and a treasure hunt, birds to sit on your shoulder and a costume contest, vendors, food, etc. I asked SW which she’d like to do, and her face lit up as she decided the strawberries could wait another week.

We spent the evening trying to put costumes together for tomorrow. We started with our 18th century event clothes, and added and subtracted from there. SD was given a set of pirate accessories from Michael W., so we dug out the plastic hook, spyglass, compass and sword. She’s got bling, she’s got purple and green striped stockings, she’s READY.

I had no idea what to put together for myself, because the Renn-Faire Pyrate Wench thing is so NOT happening at a kid’s event. However, while mulling ideas over with my boss, I apparently said “Hey! I’ve got a BOARDING AXE!” with the same inflection that an 8-year-old girl would use to say “Santa brought ME a PONY!"

Chalk another one up to “I’m not like other moms …”