Robot Kitty Army

Shane: Wanna know what I'm going to do when I grow up?

Me: Yes, what?

Shane: I'm going to be an inventor!

Me: Cool. What are you going to invent?

Shane: Robot kitties.

Me: And what will they do?

Shane: Whatever I tell them to!

Brilliant, right? The boys spent the better part of two hours refining the specifications for the robot kitties. There will be 53 of them; 40 belonging to Shane and 13 to Weston. Shane's will all look like Henry or Jake, while Weston's will be white and fluffy. For some agreed-upon reason, they will all answer only Shane, and they will do whatever he says, except for robbing, stealing, swiping or killing. If he gives an order consisting of one of these forbidden activities, they will stand down.

Now, I'm not a girl to let a good labor-saving idea pass me by, so I could see the value of the robot kitty army right away, and I was quick to verify that they could cook AND clean up. And, in fact, I was assured that they will do as they are told, except for the prohibited tasks. But why stop there? I asked if they could get jobs and bring home the bacon, and was informed that they can, but their job qualifications apparently only allow them to be police officers or firefighters. I was a little disappointed, because I was hoping for fat cat bankers or hedge fund managers, instead of some underpaid public servants. I guess there ARE 53 of them; they ought to be able to keep me in wine. And I will definitely need copious volumes if I am going to be forced to live with robot kitties, no matter how much money they make.

I had hoped they were going to get started with the construction right away, but no, the boys have decided that the scheme is going to have to wait until they are adults. That's 4,913 days from now. Not that I'm counting. Or stocking up on diodes and fake fur.

Enough With the Snow Already

So! I took these pictures just before dark last night because I was just SURE I would wake up this morning and it would all be gone. But NOPE! It looked exactly the same this morning, and it looks basically the same right this very second. It HAS been raining since mid-morning, so it's getting good and slushy. Good thing, too, because everyone I know is going just a little bit nuts. And that DEFINITELY includes me. I have been working at home most of the week, but today Lloyd dropped me off at work in the redneck truck. I didn't even wait for him to stop before I flew out of there so fast your head would spin. I have NEVER been so glad to get to work in my whole life, and that includes when I used to get to drive bulldozers and drink beer at work. Not at the same time, of course. As far as you know. Because that would just be dangerous.

Now, because today was the first day I went to work this week, I have been thinking all day that it's Monday. Of course, it is not; it is, in fact, Friday, and an entire slushy, pouring-down-rain, giant-wet-laundry-pile abyss of a weekend yawns in front of me. Man, what I would not give for a bulldozer right now. I would make short work of that laundry pile and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have any trouble getting to the wine store. Or to Goodwill!

Hmmmmmm......................

Duck! It's a Trap!

I don't even know what to say about this picture. There is a duck in the back yard. By the swing. A very, very stupid duck. For the love of all that is holy, THERE IS A TRAP THERE! And doesn't he see all that freaking snow? Shouldn't he be flying south or something? He did finally manage to depart with all of his feathers intact; I hope he has a cozy nest somewhere far, far away from the swing of death.

We had our giant snowstorm today; the worst (or best!) of it was to the south of us, but we got a respectable six inches, and a good day was had by all. The boys enjoyed a series of outdoor activities, like this one in which they played with the hose on the snow-covered trampoline. Naturally, this added significantly to the pile of wet/dirty clothes by the back door and now you need oxygen to get to the top to do the laundry. Not that I'm going to do that, of course.

Then, when they got all tired of playing outside, they came in and sprayed the hell out of the kitchen until the goldfish could gather their own food cleaned the cabinets and all the appliances. That's the news from the frozen wasteland of western Washington; I hope you are staying warm wherever you are!

Hoist On His Own Petard

Doesn't that make you wonder what a petard is? Oh, I know you know what the phrase means, but do you actually know what a petard is? I had to look it up. I'll tell you, also, because when you go to click on the link, Wikipedia might be shut down to protest SOPA and PIPA. I thought I read yesterday that the revolution was successful and those outrageous miscarriages of justice were dead in the water, but perhaps I was mistaken. It happens, you know.

Anyway, a petard is/was a small bomb used for breaching gates and other fortifications. It now means 'firecracker' in French, and is slang for 'handgun' or 'joint'. If the bombmaker blew it and the bomb went off prematurely, he or she might be lifted by the explosion and thus 'hoist'. The phrase 'Hoist with his own petard' was coined by Shakespeare, in Hamlet.

Fascinating, right? And why the hell am I talking about petards anyway? Good question, my friends! Check out the pictures from my backyard this afternoon. Apparently, while I was at work yesterday, there was some sort of fishing line trap fashioned in the vicinity of the swing. I'm not sure what it was intended to catch, or how it was constructed. I've learned the hard way not to ask too many questions, see. In any event, Shane was snagged in the snare of his own devising; don't you hate it when that happens? And do you like how I took pictures before snipping him free? Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, there was no blood, OKAY? And I think he has learned a valuable lesson, don't you? I'm pretty sure he'll build his trap in a more advantageous location next time. And as for the rest of us, we now know what petards are. So yeah, a good day all around!

On the snow front, we are anxiously awaiting the promised megastorm; it is supposed to dump like crazy today. I will keep you posted!

More Snow

Good morning to you, wherever you are, my friends! It is super early at my house- I woke up way before the alarm went off and got ready for work, only to find that we are having a late start today. I considered going in on time anyway, as I deeply appreciate the quiet pleasures of the early mornings in my office, but I live in fear of being called an overachiever. It's a constant problem, you know.

So, instead, I am attempting to enjoy the early morning at home. It's quiet, so there's that. I mean, except for the cats chasing each other around and yowling and banging into things. As you might guess, my office isn't particularly neat, and as I'm sure you know, I have a high tolerance for sloppy messes. But you should see my house this morning, people. There is a mound of snow clothes and boots about three feet high by the back door, along with a Magic 8 Ball and a box with a door cut into it. The living room is littered with the remains of some questionable game, consisting of three broken down boxes, 457 stuffed animals, and a small cooler. Oh, and a toilet seat. Don't even ask. Really.

Honestly, it's a miracle I can sit here and blog and drink coffee instead of cleaning up, but I take my underachieving very seriously indeed. Only I'm going to have to pick my way to the kitchen soon, because my consumption of fried potatoes isn't up to par lately. It's a fine line, you know, all this balancing business. In fact, it's pretty exhausting and I might need to go lay on the couch and drink beer in my underwear. And eat fried potatoes.

I will leave you with some pictures of yesterday's sunrise. Cliff Mass says we are going to have a major snowstorm starting tomorrow, so that should be super fun. I just hope someone is going to get up off his or her lazy ass and tidy up around here, because otherwise I am going to have to hang out in the car, and there are no fried potatoes in there, so that would really suck. Mmmmmmmmmmmm, fried potatoes!

Snow

It's snowing, y'all!!!! The ground is barely covered right now, but we have high hopes for the rest of the weekend. The boys have made a proto-snowfigure and piled a bunch of snow on the trampoline so they could jump around in it.

And, of course, there is plenty of indoor fun to be had:

Sunset

There are no words, right? But I have some anyway! This is my backyard this afternoon; isn't it STUNNING?

Now, for the pre-weekend update:

-I got a new phone. With insurance. All my contacts are lost, so if I need to be texting you, send me one with your name. I did receive one today that said 'This is your phone. Don't drop me in the pool; I'll be good, I promise!' Very amusing, but not especially helpful in restoring my contacts.

-I just agreed to play Monopoly, God help me. I just hope I still have a stash of wine in the bathroom but I might have wiped it out the night I dropped my phone in the pool.

-Cliff Mass says snow over the weekend! Keep your fingers crossed!

-Many things are swirling around in my head, refusing to gel. A real post might be coming later but right now I am totally just sitting here continuing to type so I don't have to get up and play that loathsome soul-sucking game that's mocking me from the living room. At least it hasn't texted me yet.

And..... that's it for now, my friends! Have a good weekend!