Ever wonder: What would LLGA's name be if Sarah Palin was her mother (or if she had snapped up LLGA's naming rights)?
Patty Grace, persisting in her perusal of possible baby names T-plus 26-days since birth of LLGA, directed me to a festive website:
http://politsk.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah_13.html
I learned that little Mary-Eilis Lucija might very well have been the subject line of this e-mail.
No matter your political inclinations, this was good for a quick giggle.
Tim = McCain Fortress
Jack = Cue Manhunt
Jamie = Rifle Panzer
Charlie = Jeep Pike
Makes the Crab Queen look positively elegant in her naming capacity, does it not?
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
guest blogger: Lucy
"Don't let the hearts fool you: I have a mean stare."
"I have met Gravity. He is a force to be reckoned with and is not distracted by ruffly-rump pants."
"I wear cute clothes...several 'costume changes' are required each day."
"I think big thoughts."
"I don my princess garb and observe my realm."
"We all have bad-hair days."
"I squirm."
"I give encroachers a piece of my mind. You marsupials, you stay out of my mama's garage!"
"I snooze."Lucy's First Extended-Mix Music Video
(Okay, no music...just grunts, clicks, squeaks, and whistles).
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
State of the Sand Castle
In this age of fretting and almost daily reports of new, fresh economic disasters, be it known that:
* All of our life insurances are with the newsworthily-grim AIG (excepting Ben's SGLI). Just getting that miserable realization out there right off the bat.
* I just located our "temporarily-misplaced" payment coupons -- having finished paying off all our vehicles this spring -- for ORTHODONTIA. Yes, our first monthly installment was due Sept. 15 (and this would be Sept. 16). Hoo-RAH for me and my financial management practices.
* Jack orates that $2 for crunchy-snack-of-questionable-nutritive-value and a drink on the prohibited-by-orthodontist list is a better value than $2.75 for a USDA-approved, well-balanced hot lunch. (Thinking, and this is just a wild wager at this point, he's not heading to KGSM (NU School of Business) anytime soon). Just this afternoon, I busted him down a rank and put him on restriction for stupid lunch choices. When you eat hot cheetos (TM) and then rub your hot-orange fingers all over your freshly-bleached white uniform polo shirt, then your mother will rant, rave and tell a vaguely surrealistic tale about moms being able to track specific purchases of children on the internet. What an ultramaroon! Him, not the mother in the above fable.
* Jamie believes that economic currency of minutes of Nintendo DS playtime is a far more motivating system of exchange than coins, dollars, faux allowances, or as he would say, "empty promises from Mom".
* Tim thinks money literally just spontaneously generates in my wallet, purse, etc. when we pass a fast food restaurant or my new nemesis, 7/11. (Nemesis since this company didn't jump at the chance to sponsor LLGA's name...after all the loyal patronage our family has provided in the recent years...single-handedly keeping not one, but two franchises prosperous).
* Best of all, I (er, GMK) took the 2002 Ford Windstar minivan (er, LEMON) to the dealer for a lube-oil filter service. Hmmm...within nanoseconds, our "service advisor" was on the phone with me that we needed a new air filter and, um,well, our rear right something cracked -- in addition to the rear right brake shoe and got the brakes wet, meaning that the rear brakes need replacing, too. Because I am at this point all about negotiating not just IEPs but the quotes for service, Mr. "Advisor" found me $40 and change in discounts. (Yesiree, I did so play the Iraq card). For the record, this problem was NOT the fault of the driver(s). $419 when $29 was anticipated. Thinking of it as a balloon payment that only occurs once. Or so I pray.
* As I muttered to Patty Kiki just this very afternoon, if Franklin-Templeton makes headlines, the Crabs are sooooo very game-out. Let's hope that both of our presidential candidates can offer some presidential pep-talking in lieu of posing as Eeyore-the-sky-is-falling-and-I-don't-think-these-are-raindrops.
* All of our life insurances are with the newsworthily-grim AIG (excepting Ben's SGLI). Just getting that miserable realization out there right off the bat.
* I just located our "temporarily-misplaced" payment coupons -- having finished paying off all our vehicles this spring -- for ORTHODONTIA. Yes, our first monthly installment was due Sept. 15 (and this would be Sept. 16). Hoo-RAH for me and my financial management practices.
* Jack orates that $2 for crunchy-snack-of-questionable-nutritive-value and a drink on the prohibited-by-orthodontist list is a better value than $2.75 for a USDA-approved, well-balanced hot lunch. (Thinking, and this is just a wild wager at this point, he's not heading to KGSM (NU School of Business) anytime soon). Just this afternoon, I busted him down a rank and put him on restriction for stupid lunch choices. When you eat hot cheetos (TM) and then rub your hot-orange fingers all over your freshly-bleached white uniform polo shirt, then your mother will rant, rave and tell a vaguely surrealistic tale about moms being able to track specific purchases of children on the internet. What an ultramaroon! Him, not the mother in the above fable.
* Jamie believes that economic currency of minutes of Nintendo DS playtime is a far more motivating system of exchange than coins, dollars, faux allowances, or as he would say, "empty promises from Mom".
* Tim thinks money literally just spontaneously generates in my wallet, purse, etc. when we pass a fast food restaurant or my new nemesis, 7/11. (Nemesis since this company didn't jump at the chance to sponsor LLGA's name...after all the loyal patronage our family has provided in the recent years...single-handedly keeping not one, but two franchises prosperous).
* Best of all, I (er, GMK) took the 2002 Ford Windstar minivan (er, LEMON) to the dealer for a lube-oil filter service. Hmmm...within nanoseconds, our "service advisor" was on the phone with me that we needed a new air filter and, um,well, our rear right something cracked -- in addition to the rear right brake shoe and got the brakes wet, meaning that the rear brakes need replacing, too. Because I am at this point all about negotiating not just IEPs but the quotes for service, Mr. "Advisor" found me $40 and change in discounts. (Yesiree, I did so play the Iraq card). For the record, this problem was NOT the fault of the driver(s). $419 when $29 was anticipated. Thinking of it as a balloon payment that only occurs once. Or so I pray.
* As I muttered to Patty Kiki just this very afternoon, if Franklin-Templeton makes headlines, the Crabs are sooooo very game-out. Let's hope that both of our presidential candidates can offer some presidential pep-talking in lieu of posing as Eeyore-the-sky-is-falling-and-I-don't-think-these-are-raindrops.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
August Pix of Tim at CCC Kids Program
On August 5th, Tim began attending a very well-regarded social/recreation program for kids with developmental disabilities (mostly, autism) in San Diego. It is located literally one block away from his non-public school. He goes twice per week and the program takes groups of kids into the community. Here's August photos featuring Tim. For more information about this program, see www.communitycoachingcenter.org
Tim & friend at fountain
Tim & CCC employee
Tim & friends at the recently re-opened Children's Museum.
Tim & friend at fountain
Tim & CCC employee
Tim & friends at the recently re-opened Children's Museum.
Confessional Numero Uno (AKA, Why Sand Crab Is So Glad He Called Home)
In today's phone call, Sand Crab learned that:
* The Crab Queen, always on the verge of being overwhelmed by paper, had "temporarily misplaced" his government travel credit card ... Did he REALLY-REALLY need it? ("Um, yes," CDR Crab tentatively murmured -- not wishing to cause a mass-casualty excavation of the castle but apparently still interested in receiving that piece of mail.)
* The Crab Queen confessed to extracting a CD-ROM of "XO Archives" in search of a particular video which featured "Rat Bag" (aka, Lucy's godfather). This encroachment did not seem to trouble the easy-going Pa Crab.
* The Crab Queen made mention -- since I was on a roll and Sand Crab was sounding rather deflated and tired (i.e., not very fiesty and therefore, an easy receptor for all items filed under "Tell Ben when he's not otherwise agitated")-- of the again "temporary misplacement" of the Antietam Cruise Book, which like the XO Archives CD, began deployment in then-LCDR Crab's closet. The J-Crabs enjoyed looking at the pseudo-yearbook (probably because their fiscally-conservative mother wouldn't spring for $40 grade school/middle school yearbooks) and Ma Crab took it away and put it somewhere both "clever" and "safe"...alas, NOT on the closet shelf. Oops. (CDR Crab asked, in a small and restrained voice, "Do we think it's there somewhere because I really hoped to keep that...???" "Oh, yes, I definitely didn't pitch it in the garbage!" I quickly offered because as most know, hardly ANYTHING actually makes it to the garbage.)
* Seeing as how I'd already made this a memorable Love & Candy morale call, I figured I may as well save the J-crabs by pre-warning CDR Crab of a sad, sad tale of the end of a long, happy career of his baseball glove. ("The one I've had since I was 16? The 22-year-old baseball mitt?! Krikey!!!") Yes, that one. The J-crabs borrowed it to play catch and left it in the yard whereupon, almost immediately, the grass went on a steroidal-esque growing frenzy...by the time the lawn mower guys came, it was apparently hidden (mildewing, probably) and...
At this point, the Sand Crab interjected: "NO! Is it leather confetti now?"
..."I think that's a fairly celebratory and charitable description of the current status of the glove," I agreed. (leaving out that I kept it for 3 weeks in a threatening guilt trip of the J-crabs and so I could canvas those entering the castle with "Do you think this can be repaired?", which was met with universal gasps, taken to mean "no."
At this point, the Sand Crab went on a bit of a mild rant about the J-crabs not having any understanding of weather, the life cycle of lawns, or physics.
As an added bonus, and because I couldn't burn Lucy's mini-videos to CD -- I hate my computer! -- I inundated Ben's e-mail in-box with 7 mini-videos, each attached to a separate e-mail. Apparently, the Crab is only allowed x amount of storage, which I threatened to exceed. Oops.
* The Crab Queen, always on the verge of being overwhelmed by paper, had "temporarily misplaced" his government travel credit card ... Did he REALLY-REALLY need it? ("Um, yes," CDR Crab tentatively murmured -- not wishing to cause a mass-casualty excavation of the castle but apparently still interested in receiving that piece of mail.)
* The Crab Queen confessed to extracting a CD-ROM of "XO Archives" in search of a particular video which featured "Rat Bag" (aka, Lucy's godfather). This encroachment did not seem to trouble the easy-going Pa Crab.
* The Crab Queen made mention -- since I was on a roll and Sand Crab was sounding rather deflated and tired (i.e., not very fiesty and therefore, an easy receptor for all items filed under "Tell Ben when he's not otherwise agitated")-- of the again "temporary misplacement" of the Antietam Cruise Book, which like the XO Archives CD, began deployment in then-LCDR Crab's closet. The J-Crabs enjoyed looking at the pseudo-yearbook (probably because their fiscally-conservative mother wouldn't spring for $40 grade school/middle school yearbooks) and Ma Crab took it away and put it somewhere both "clever" and "safe"...alas, NOT on the closet shelf. Oops. (CDR Crab asked, in a small and restrained voice, "Do we think it's there somewhere because I really hoped to keep that...???" "Oh, yes, I definitely didn't pitch it in the garbage!" I quickly offered because as most know, hardly ANYTHING actually makes it to the garbage.)
* Seeing as how I'd already made this a memorable Love & Candy morale call, I figured I may as well save the J-crabs by pre-warning CDR Crab of a sad, sad tale of the end of a long, happy career of his baseball glove. ("The one I've had since I was 16? The 22-year-old baseball mitt?! Krikey!!!") Yes, that one. The J-crabs borrowed it to play catch and left it in the yard whereupon, almost immediately, the grass went on a steroidal-esque growing frenzy...by the time the lawn mower guys came, it was apparently hidden (mildewing, probably) and...
At this point, the Sand Crab interjected: "NO! Is it leather confetti now?"
..."I think that's a fairly celebratory and charitable description of the current status of the glove," I agreed. (leaving out that I kept it for 3 weeks in a threatening guilt trip of the J-crabs and so I could canvas those entering the castle with "Do you think this can be repaired?", which was met with universal gasps, taken to mean "no."
At this point, the Sand Crab went on a bit of a mild rant about the J-crabs not having any understanding of weather, the life cycle of lawns, or physics.
As an added bonus, and because I couldn't burn Lucy's mini-videos to CD -- I hate my computer! -- I inundated Ben's e-mail in-box with 7 mini-videos, each attached to a separate e-mail. Apparently, the Crab is only allowed x amount of storage, which I threatened to exceed. Oops.
Talking to Daddy: Why Vote? Part II
Admittedly, her side of the conversation is a dolphin-like series of squeaks, grunts, and clicks.
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