At Long Last

This was one of those glorious, shining afternoons when everything came together just right. See, for years now, I've been longing for a place where I can work on cars and bikes indoors, out of the elements, where I can use proper jacks on a level surface, and be close to the tools — and, ideally, also be in a place where I can walk away and lock the door, without fear of having my tools grow legs. I'm almost there. The cars are too big to come in, but for my two-wheeled vehicles (and the electric cart), it's a longing fulfilled.

A fair amount of work went into this one moment — we had to make a new door in the shed, had to make new storage space, and had to sell, sort, and store things that had been taking up the space I wanted. Obviously, from the haphazard stacks of stuff you see in the picture, I've got a ways to go before everything is perfect.

At the end of the day... I didn't manage to repair the gas gauge on the motorcycle. So what? Just being able to, in a comfortable, convenient environment, was a pleasure.

...and After

Dramatic, no?

This transformation was enabled in part by the wonderful folks of Freecycle, who lined up to claim the loft, the dresser, and a steering wheel off of a Mazda RX-7 (How did that get in here...?) Also credit the heroic efforts of Paul, who tackled the mess in a different way than what I'd been doing, with spectacular results.

Now, do realize what the truly amazing part of this transformation is?

No?

Well, here it is: I didn't clean Deborah's desk. Nor did I add to the mess thereon, which is equally amazing. Temptation comes in all forms, but it can be resisted!

Before...

The difference between boys and girls

Fiona has taken to beautifying the world around her. This includes things that I might not have otherwise considered candidates for beautification, like work boots.

Perhaps when she gets older, I'll find she's knitted me a nice motorcycle cozy. That would be nice.

Dinosaurs get cold, too. So they need a scarf.

Somehow, I think if one has that much neck, you need a more substantial scarf — think Doctor Who — but I can't deny this dinosaur looks dashing and dapper.

* * *

Aiden, on the other hand, knows what dinosaurs are good for.

Seriously, Aiden has never seen a B-movie creature feature in his entire life, and he knew exactly what to do with a dinosaur and a car. No one taught him that.

Isn't it weird how we're wired?

When life hands you lemons, make lemon treats one week later

One week after my actual birthday (which I moped about here), several people decided that I needed a bit more of a celebration. I came in to work in the morning to find that one of my co-workers had made lemon bars in my honor and put them in the break room for everyone to enjoy. I was touched. When I got home, I found that Deborah and Paul had used (and then washed) just about every pan in the house to make Blue Avenger lemon meringue pie — my favorite.

I'm sure there's some symbolism here, but I don't know what it means. I'm surrounded by wonderful people that know I like lemon, maybe?

No, we didn't feel it

Ever since I got to work this morning, people have been asking left and right if anyone else felt this morning's earthquake. Well... no. Either by virtue of being young parents (and thus sleep like the dead) or having lived in more wiggly places (California, Costa Rica, Ecuador)... we didn't feel a thing.

Deborah called me a little while ago to let me know that we'd had another quake at 11:30, but even then, I had to be told.

33

OK, quick poll: Have you EVER heard anyone say, "Yeah, when I'm 33, then I'll have some fun!"

No?

Me either.

It was my birthday yesterday. 33. It wasn't a day of excitement — I had to cover at work for my supervisor (no day off...) and ended up working late to try to meet a deadline. I blew it. I gave up, brain-dead, at 7 p.m. and sent the customer the file and an outline of everything I knew was wrong with it.

I got home and was hugged by two awesome little kids, and we all went out to eat. The margarita was perfect, the steak was rarest I've ever had it, the waitress took good care of us, and the kids behaved. I completely stuffed myself. It was lovely.

After the kids were tucked in, Paul came over, and I showed off my birthday present — a palm-sized R/C helicopter. We took turns flying it around the living room, and then retired to the computer, where we watched an old episode of Max Headroom Paul had managed to find on the 'net. The show has aged rather well, I think.

So was 33 excitement by the minute? Nah. Is life good anyway? Yes.

***

Perhaps to make up for all that lack of excitement (or perhaps because it seems like cool thing to do) we're talking about having a 33 ⅓ party — one third of a century, and, coincidentally, the RPM of an old record player. So, Sometime in August, bring your old vinyl, and we can gross each other out with '80s music and slam-dance until dawn.

Or at least until the babysitter needs to go home.

We were wrong

We are not expecting two babies.

We are expecting THREE.









Edit: This was posted on April 1. Hint, hint. Four weeks later, I'm still getting people coming up to me, saying "Omigosh, are you SERIOUS?" ...I'm not, actually. April Fools, folks. Or, at least, I sure hope I'm joking.