I have a copy of “Absence of Malice”; Sally Field, Paul Newman, the Quaker Oats man – Wilford Brimley. Made in 1981, the year Quentin was born; we watched it on VHS in Palatine. I could go in a grab it and stick it in the machine anytime, but I don’t. But this morning, I turned on AMC and a movie with Jennifer Jones and a very young Rock Hudson was just ending and the screen popped up with “Next . . . Absence of Malice” and I took it as a Christmas Stocking gift . So here I sit, watching – all cozy and warm with Sydney – just waiting for the really good scenes where Eliot Rosen “gets it.”
Monthly Archives: December 2008
-1 degree fahrenheit . . . guess the books are safe
Well with the old fahrenheit way down in the trenches, it has occurred to me that there may be a school delay tomorrow so no little kids will be standing in the dark and cold waiting for the bus. And if we get precipitation, schools may close. Ho ho ho – a little crew of elves to pick up all the clutter and clean rooms. and then, just maybe, we might have a movie afternoon with popcorn and treats.
Oh, yeah . . . the wind is pretty strong – making the “feels like” temperature -9?.
duct tape
It is cold here . . . real cold. I reached the point where I put duct tape on one of the doors because until it got this cold and this windy I did not realize the constant use had undermined the insulation on the door jamb. Yes, it is Sydney’s door from the porch. He is not pleased. He wants to use THAT door.
However, the screen door is frozen shut . . . although that isn’t preventing cold from seeping through the recently discovered air leaks. It is too cold for a real fix . . . well, when a temporary duct taping will serve.
Oh, my. We have lost power. Now this is not good.
YEA! It turned out to a be a tripped circuit breaker for part of the house. WooHoo. But Sydney is still BooHoo-ing about his door.
Firewood brigade . . . YO.
Tree 2008
Ice outside and lights inside
Well, this is Bob after Alison decorated him.
Hamburgers? Grilled?
Der Bingle is here and he has this idea: How about grilling hamburgers on the outdoor gas grill? Uh, the high today is supposed to be 23 and then there is the wind chill. Well, if he wants to try it . . . We are still a sea of ice and it took him 4 1/2 hours to get here instead of the usual three. He drove the speed limit and under and said he thought the Georgia plates encouraged people to give him plenty of space.
This morning I assembled the angel wreath . . . and you know those angels were getting pretty feisty about who got what position. I guess if an angel gets too hot under the halo, she’ll have to be put on probation. And then I would need replacement, so I strung a line of small bells across the wreath . . . because every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings, dontcha know. We also have a monk on the wreath . . . he brought the chips.
Frozen in
Well, yes the door to the backyard from the porch will not open – it is frozen. I think the wind swirled freezing rain and snow into every crevice in that location. Fortunately, the back vestible door is working and Sydney was able to get out. But we are not going anyway – the car doors are iced closed and the roads are slick.
And, of course, there is NO SCHOOL.
Cameron and Summer came to tell me and then waited for my customary “Noooooooooooooooo!”
Yesterday was sunny and I was at the mall. I had chow mein for lunch in the food court. Today I am here and I guess lunch will be a peanut butter crunchy foldover.
Not too crowded yesterday . . . the day before the ice storm.
One week and it will be Christmas. I think I would like it to be two weeks until Christmas and the calendar just stay there for awhile. Alison is after me to get a picture of the tree and I keep forgetting so perhaps I will have a picture of a pile of needles for Christmas 2008. Oh, I kid. I will do it and I bet I’ll even post it.
Oh, gee, just remembered that I have pictures still in the camera of the Chick-Fil-A cow dressed in a Santa suit at Glenbrook’s food court.
Is this a beefeater I see before me?
Alison’s chinese food; my chow mein was shy.
Cow looking at me.
As I said, I was eating chow mein so the cow didn’t glare at me . . . the way he/she did at the man eating Burger King.
UPDATE: The car is covered in ice – I mean if you could pop the actually car out, you would have a perfect crystal clear ice mold. The car is also frozen to the driveway; Allen County is on a Level 2 emergency and it is not supposed to get above 31 here.
Snow and ice coming . . .
Oh, dear, I’m watching TV and there is every indication that there will be no school tomorrow. I should have been more moderate in my exuberance yesterday morn. But . . . but, if they don’t go to school, will they learn the word “exuberance” and how to spell it? See, it is important, and it is my duty to worry that they are not schooled enough.
Oh, well, today they are going; maybe they will learn the word incorrigible.
Spur of th moment decision: trip to Fort Wayne.
It’s 8:03 am
So, this morning we woke to a 2-hour delay, and . . . and it is past eight and there are no extensions – no 3-hour delays and no closings. I know from personal conversation with the “delay czar” here in the East Noble district that they make the decision, if at all possible, by eight. And it is after eight . . . fa la la la la la la la.
Now it is 8:07 and it is holding. Zippity doo dah.
Of course, Summer and Cameron and Colin will probably not share my interpretation of this news.
But I am dancing, dancing. Too much enthusiasm?
early
I was awakened early this morning – which would have been 4:45 in the A of M, as every now and then I hear someone say. So I decided to look on the Internet for the weather and whatnot because it is verrry cold this morning and I suddenly had a desperate need to know how cold.
Well, the Internet provider is having some problems so here I am in Word, which tried to sneak in Times New Roman on me instead of my usual Geneva. Once upon a time, I had a font that presented like words clipped out of a newspaper on a ransom note. I kind of liked that. Heck, I liked it a lot, but there weren’t too many things I could use it for since anything longer than “We have Hazel. Put $500,000 in a brown paper bag and leave at the big tree at the corner of Elm and Fifth. Do not contact police.” got a little overwhelming.
We are to finally decorate the tree today and, Bob, I feel for you. It is not that I do not want to decorate but I am in a phase of delicate lights and a few special ornaments and just about everyone else here is voting for a brightly-lit tree laden with every ornament in the house, including all the school project decorations.
I know – that will make it family and friend oriented and “special” but I am thinking Bob will look like a boob, sort of a brightly-lit post-it note board.
I guess it is in the eye of the beholder. Last evening my eyes were filled with George C. Scott images as Scrooge . . . but I dozed off before the “see the light of Christmas spirit” scenes and think I may have been “humbugged and bah-ed” – maybe a Stockholm Syndrome thing.
I believe I detect a note of irritation in my posting this morning. Oh, really, AmeliaJake? Why is that?
Well . . . I don’t really know. Perhaps I need to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” over and over and over again. I may be low on my “Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls; Merry Christmas, you old Bailey Savings & Loan” spirit level.
Yes, that’s probably it.
fairground thoughts
Okay, Summer and Sydney and I are in the car on the way to the middle school, running late because Summer does not want to get up and puts it off to the last moment and is often not a pleasant person to be around at that time of a weekday morning. Come to think of it, Summer is often not . . . Well, never mind for now.
Anyway, the subject comes up of people who have technically drowned and been revived and we talk about the possible outcomes of such events from vegetative state to normalcy. As we approached the school, I mentioned off hand that of course she had been drownded and after 24 hours revived. She wanted to know if that is why her stomach hurt and I said, probably because a little tiny nurse sat on her stomach and peered up through her nose to see what was going on in her brain. Her name was Agnes; she had red hair and a funny heeheeheeehee little laugh. It was at that point that we reached the entrance and Summer got out.
Then Sydney and I went on to the fairgrounds where he got out to run around and I sat in the warm car thinking of how outcomes can be so different – like grandchildren. You see, you know your kid has half your DNA and half your spouse’s. Usually spouses kind of know each other and the DNA effects are not unexpected.
But, now grandkids can be as closely related biologically as your own children or not related at all. It is possible for your child to contribute all of the DNA he/she has inherited from you . . . or not one chromosome. This is fascinating.
Then there is the matter of your child’s spouse’s DNA in the kid; where the heck did this stuff come from. Who ARE these people?
But, back to Summer. She’s a girl and therefore has two X chromosomes. Now the only way that could be is if my son gave her the one X he had which came from me. So what if 22 other AJ chromosomes got together and fought off the Der Bingle chromosomes ? The Summer would be half AJ. No, I don’t think so.
I do think I remember, though, a little tiny nurse named Gretel sitting on my chest and sticking alien implants up my nose and into my brain. But maybe it was a dream.