Next week at this time

We'll be in Charlotte unless catastrophe hits. And plans are to be at the soiree Breda is organizing Saturday night. My introverted self is looking forward to meeting new people, and I’m glad that Breda got us a room where maybe the background noise will be low enough that a bunch of people who may have been a little too lax with hearing protection or little too enthusiastic with those cool little Walkman headphones in their youth can hear each other. Or, at least the lighting will be bright enough that we can see to lip-read.

Don't sugarcoat it.

This sums things up pretty succinctly. Back when one didn’t have to apologize for the possibility of hurting somebody’s feeeeeeeeeeeeeelings just because Grandpa Schmidt still had family in the old country.

It's interesting to see "center of target" instead of "center of mass" being illustrated.

Pun

There were three Indian squaws. One slept on a deer skin, one slept on an elk skin, and the third slept on a hippopotamus skin. All three became pregnant. The first two each had a baby boy. The one who slept on the hippopotamus skin had twin boys.

This just goes to prove that the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

It's rough being a kid

I picked up Sweet Daughter from daycare this afternoon, stopped to get gas before running to the library, and then home to start dinner. I finished filling the tank, put the gas cap back, gave it a twist, grabbed my receipt and hopped in the Family Truckster only to see Sweet Daughter looking like her heart was broken, with tears streaming down her face, as she heroically tried to stop sobbing.


“Sweetie! What’s wrong? Are you okay?!!?”

::: sniff ::: sniff ::: SNIFF! :::

“It’s just that I’m a little sad (sniff) because I can’t go to the gun range until I’m seven, and I’m (sob!) ONLY FOUR AND A HALF!!!”

Her dad and I don’t talk guns much. I didn't think we talked about the range in front of her to the extent that she would think it was some sort of mecca. We certainly don’t have the time we’d like to spend at the range (I haven’t been since the beginning of the year), and so I don’t know WHERE she gets if from. It must be genetically encoded somewhere in her DNA.

Anyhow, I did my best to console her with the fact that when we go to Charlotte in less than two weeks, they’ll have a range there, just for kids. She'd better bring her piggy bank.

Fox Tossing - a mental earworm

You know when you get a song stuck in your head – that all-consuming earworm – and the only way to get rid of it is to share it with someone else? Well, I have a mental earworm to share with you. Bitter Young Guy from work sent me a link about fox tossing.

Maggie Koerth-Baker says:

Is there a German word for "the feeling you get when something is so ridiculous that you want to laugh, yet is simultaneously jaw-droppingly horrible"? Can we make one up?


I ask, because I recently discovered Fox-Tossing, a 17th/18th century European pastime that is exactly what it sounds like. People would go out in a field and set up a little fenced-in court. Then high-society types would stand, in pairs, holding slack ropes. Then a bunch of foxes would be released into the court. When the foxes ran over the ropes, the players pulled the ropes tight, launching the foxes up into the air. Repeat until all foxes are dead.

My first thought was what’s wrong, can’t they afford horses to chase them like the English? But my ancestors who spoke German were from Lichtenstein, so I guess I don’t have the right DNA to grok German culture.

But to back up a little, yes. You read that right. Fox. Tossing.
“The tossing of foxes and other animals was not without risk to the participants, as it was not uncommon for the terrified animals to turn on the tossers. Wildcats were particularly troublesome; as one writer remarked, they ‘do not give a pleasing kind of sport, for if they cannot bury their claws and teeth in the faces or legs of the tossers, they cling to the tossing-slings for dear life, and it is next to impossible to give one of these animals a skilful toss’.”

Ya THINK?

And the 17th and 18th century Germans didn't have violent TV/video games/movies to blame it on.

So, please allow me to share this mental earworm so I can rid myself of it and get on with my life.

Thank you.

Things to work on before school starts

Sweet Daughter is currently watching “Donald in Mathmagic Land” for the second time tonight. Yes, the one from 1959. She’s throwing out the names for shapes. Triangle? Check. Square? Check. Rectangle? Check. Pexagon? Close. But we’re really going to have to work on that 6-sided shape. I can’t expect a teacher to not say something when SD starts talking about sexagons.

Revolution Wear

When I was at Battersea earlier this month, I ran across a wonderful new vendor. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Life, Liberty, etc., and wear their embroidered Molon Labe shirt. I’ve bought t-shirts and hats from them to give as gifts, but I’m just not much of a t-shirt wearer. I like my shirts with a collar, what can I say?

So when I met Ron of Revolution Wear and saw his tables of merchandise, I, um, went a little overboard. I bought 2 polo shirts, a hat and a printed t-shirt just for myself.

The body of all the shirts I bought is made from a tube of fabric – no side seams to rub. His polo shirts are 100% cotton pique and beautifully made. And the embroidery is very detailed.

And look … the left sleeve also has something embroidered on it! Even the embroidered T-shirts have this.

And the hats! No plastic anywhere, just breathable cotton with an adjustable band. It fits both my 4-year-old and Shorter Half who takes at least an XL in most hats, if not an XXL.

Cool embroidery on the back above the strap!

Remember how I said I don’t like t-shirts much? That was until I saw this one.

I couldn’t pass it up. I figure if you know what it means, you’ll understand why I’m wearing it.

  

The Proprietor, Ron, has attached a label with a handy little summary/history lesson for those who’d like a refresher.

The shirts washed up beautifully with very little shrinkage. The size large polo shirts started out at 47 ½ " around, and after being washed in warm water and run through the drier, ended up at 45” in circumference. The size large t-shirt, also run through the washer and dried went from 43 1/2” to 43”.

Ron also has bumper stickers, and his leather goods were top-notch. AND he has some really cool desktop wallpaper to download for free.

So if you’re in the market for something to wear to Charlotte next month or just need a new bumper sticker, give Ron’s site a visit and poke around a little bit. I’d even contact him and ask what he’s got available if you’re looking for a special color shirt. He had a lot more options on the table than I saw on his web site.


*And no, FCC spies. I didn't get a darn thing for this review, not even a volume discount when I bought the stuff.