Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Busy, but not so much
Yesterday, shortly after I got to work, the Mrs called me. This is not the norm for her so I believed that some matter was amiss. After a brief conversation, she established that we were without power at the Manor and she had called PECO. Just a FYI. Later on in the day I called the home trunk line and the answering PBX picked up so I assumed that the power was back again. I called the Mrs to let her know that we are good to go. Usually, we loose power once a year due to a poor transformer installation. It's the same deal every time. It rains, the transformer settles a bit and the power lines become disconnected and require repair. This involves digging up the pastoral expanse in front of the Manor. When I got the Mrs on the line, she told me that the power was back before she had left in the morning. Apparently, she went out to talk to the new neighbors who have a child that rides the school bus. The bus driver told the neighbor that an errant vehicle had taken out a utility pole and the power lines were lying in the street. This also created traffic hazards: Downed lines, nonfunctional traffic signals. So, no giant pits in the front yard. It's a good thing I got out of there with the Tyrants before all this came to pass. It would be nice to be trapped at home but without power, there would be little 'work from home' ability. I need to get a beta release multi-node MySQL server installation set up for evaluation and smoke-signals will just not do it.
Once again, I was set up for a new experience at TSD practice. Today was the day for me to be exposed to sparring. And yes, I'm sore in all sorts of places today. This is how it works. Once you are exhausted enough, the Master will break out some classic 1970 vintage gear and tell you to suit up. It's like playing Pro Football with a leather helmet. So there I was, mixing it up with the PreBlack belts. Oddly enough, they were impressed by my aggressiveness and my ability to block blows that should have landed. Little did they know I was just plain terrified. One thing I have learned is that if you put you opponent on the defensive, they are not looking to land blows, just block them. Just keep moving forward. Or, as BrainCheese's friend says; 'Lean into it'. That worked pretty good for me and I got to pick my shots. When the session was over and I extracted myself from the full metal plate armor, the head-gear had established a pretty good vacuume on my skull and when removed, it sounded like someone opening a jar of pasta sauce. Yes, I'll need to get my own set of gear. Preferably made of ballistic ablative ceramic.
Got up late this morning. It was fairly chilly and I was less than interested in getting into work early on my last day of the year. Something about the multitude of aches and pains and the soothing warmth of two quilts pushed me a concrete decision to turn off the alarm at 0600 and let life slide a bit. Then I got an early morning surprise. As I slid back under the covers, I got a 'push-back' from my bed-mate. The Mrs usually doesn't push from more space since I sleep on the edge ... on my side. I take up about 6-8 inches of space. This event inspired me to roll over and interrogate the usurper of my warm spot. Much to my shock, it was Jovial Jake, lazily snoozing away. I'm not sure when he crawled in between the Mrs and I, but he usually crawls over my head and that tends to wake me up. I can only surmise that I must have really slept deeply last night to have let that pass. A little later, Alexis totters in and fills the remaining space left and we are all huddled under the covers. The Mrs peeks out and notices that the one digital clock I reset reads "0800". Well, sleeping in 2 hours is not normal on a Wednesday, but I guess you just have to slow down every so often and watch the world spin. Its quite a show.
Technorati Tags:Traffic | Karate | Children
Monday, December 18, 2006
Friday was better ... muchly so for the Group/Division/Department party we had at one of the co-worker's residences. I brought 2 cases of beer as a libation supplement and was lauded and toasted for my foresight. The liquid tongue loosener was exceedingly effective for extracting opinions about internal politics and other general information. Much to my amusement, I found that I was not the only fellow in the area who tries to heat a home with a wood burning stove and spends too much time around splitting, sanding and moving logs about. I was invited later on in the evening to go play pool at yet another co-workers home and could not resist. On the way, I found that nearly every home in the region is thickly shellacked with decorations and lights. It is an anti-display of what my immediate neighborhood looks like. Not a light to be found for quite some distance. When I was talking to some of the folks at the second by invite only party, I got a few interesting observations regarding that. It came up that I lived in a particular Township and nearly every time it was noted that there are very few lights in my neighborhood. When asked how they knew that, I was told that my area is primarily a Jewish enclave. Well now. I knew that I had a good mix, but I suppose I was too deep in the mix to make out the forest from the trees. Now, I did not put up lights this year for multiple reasons, but I guess I'll have to do it next year. Just to dispel the idea that I live in some homogeneous ethnic block. Honestly though, there are Hindus, Buddhists, Christians AND Jews in the area. Most are either non-practicing or not very overt in our faiths. That makes most of us a fairly easy group to settle into.
Saturday, we get up and drive to Princeton in the Family Tank v2.0 for a train trip to NYC. I drank enough to float a boat the previous evening so the first step of this journey was a rough one. Of course, using the local NE Corridor train was a must. When we reached the Princeton Junction Train Station, I was witness to a particularly disturbing event. It is well established what my predilections about children and parenting behaviors are. Given that bias, and a well cemented one at that, you must believe me when I say that I try to be as open minded and slow to judge. This event caused me to fail. At the same time the Roaming Haupertonain Family arrived, a husky woman and her 5-6 year old wisp of a little girl rushed up to the parking ticket kiosk and commenced trying to insert dollar bills. We found that the other kiosk was unresponsive as was hers. Instead of cursing loudly and acting erratically, we went to the main ticket counter. On the way, this same woman burst past us with the child in tow, wailing. It was like watching a semi truck blast down the road with a torn bit of plastic sheeting whipping in the turbulence of its wake. We eventually get to the same location just as she throws her child to an outdoor bench, still sobbing, and commands her to stay put as she runs back the way we just came. At that point, I'm flabbergasted. I lead Jake and Alexis to the same bench as the Mrs, who has not seen this display, proceeds into the station to buy train tickets and a parking permit. A train had just departed north when we got there and another was to arrive in 10 minutes. I try to calm down the girl and ask her if she is ok and why she is crying. The apparently banged her shin on the way and just needed a little consolation. I ask Jake and Alexis to say hi and introduce themselves. As children do, they yammer a bit and become trusted friends. She starts to calm down and Jake strokes her arm in his typical display of unparalleled empathetic acumen. As the calm before the storm, the Mother reappears flushed and gasping for air. She glances about agitatedly before latching onto her offspring and yanking her off into the mass of waiting travelers. I lead my two indoors to a safer location and think about what I have witnessed. What has this child learned? She learned that in order to save 10-15 minutes (we got on the next local train), she was left to the milling crowds at a time when all she needed was her mother's attention. I'm hoping that there was something incredibly dire that required this brazen act. I spent a bit of time gazing at a barren tree outside that was suddenly the roost of a flock of starlings that descended in a large dark mass. Like a dark cloak enveloping the branches laid bare of protection by the harsh cold of winter. Although I don't like to toot my own horn, it was rather fortuitous for the child and harried woman that a man of my nature was present. And not, as could be the case, and person with more sinister motivations.
The rest of the NYC trip went well. Jake enjoyed the train trip up more than if he were granted a seat on the space shuttle. Much more entertaining to see the landscape race by than a dull tapestry of stars, dont you know. We had DimSum with the GrandMother(Paw-Paw) and GreatGrandMother(Pa-Pa) and then let the two terrors tear apart the apartment. Like descending locust, we departed as quickly as we arrived and made our way back to the Manor with the PreacherBrotherInLaw along for the ride. The train ride back was absurdly crowded and I was forced to stand the whole way back. A man sitting next to me saw Jake and, probably because he had his own child along, surrendered his seat so that the Jovial Jokester could sit. I met a lot of fine people that evening on the way home. People with children who cared about other children. Jake got to play with 3 other boys all the way back and the parents engaged me with entertaining conversation for the next hour or so. To cap off the evening, I took everyone to our favorite Japanese Restaurant and we got to enjoy the hibachi show. Jake was thrilled with the pyrotechnic and Alexis was amazed that Daddy could catch in his mouth a bit of shrimp launched like an acrobatic appetizer over the grill. Very happy, full and exhausted children.
Sunday is as Sunday should be. I took the kids to Sunday school and I was busy as ever with the various duties. Locking and unlocking doors. Bathroom escorts. Paper shuffling, scissors, glue, popsicle sticks. The usual. The unusual is that some of the parents obviously know me from their children's tales and I was the recipient of gifts for Christmas. Quite heartwarming really. Even a card would have thrilled me, but THREE. Personal growth sneaks up on you sometimes and what you believe to be ordinary life comes back to you as extraordinary when pointed out by others. It makes me happy, and sad. I really do wish what I am doing was mundane and expected. Even among the steadfast faithful, there are traits that are hard to quash though. I'd tell you a tale of how one part of the parking lot is like a giant ring with 30 parkings spots in the middle closed off, but you probably know where I'm going with that. People were forced to park in the fire lane outside the school and I find the situation to be a bit unacceptable. Me and my judgmental ways.
The rest of Sunday was spent cooking, chopping wood, restocking the wood brackets, keeping the fire lit and scooping up endless tracts of the fall hound hummus harvest. I did have to take the PreacherBIL back to the train station to head back to NYC, but not an entirely unpleasant task. He was exhausted from fending off the Tyrants and I enjoyed his tales of woe. Jake introduced him to the 'snuggle-shove' move he invented specifically for visitors. Mercy be upon your soul if you try to take a nap on the sofa in the Manor. Jake will find you, bet between you and the sofa-back, and put you on the floor within minutes. You just cannot find a stone-cold heart cruel enough to wake him after he steals your warm spot.[+/-] show/hide the rest of this post
Technorati Tags:NYC | Trains | Children | Family | Work
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Christmas 2006 Letter
Of course, this year has not been all Grins and Giggles. Early on in the year, the SuperSaturn blew out it's transmission. Now, there was a critical choice to make. We were halfway though the car payments on the Chevy Family Tank and I was not really interested in picking up a new loan. On the other hand, spending 2K on a POS 97 Saturn was like giving someone a 20$ bill for 5$ of change. In the end, I lumped it and just had the transmission replaced. It has a 2 year guarantee so, provided that it holds together for a few more years, I'll be vindicated. I'm certainly going to have to buy a new/used car within the near future given that the existing one is held together with spit and grit. This leads me to and extraordinary event for the intrepid adventurers and their sturdy Family Tank. We attended a wedding and on the way from a photo shoot to the actual wedding, we ended up in an accident where the Family Tank (v1.0) came to rest on a it's collapsed roof. The kids fared well as the restraining seats operated precisely as engineered. The Mrs and I got knocked about a bit and had to take a bit of time off to recover. The ever resilient Father-In-Law was in the back seat and manged to crawl out via a shattered side window. It was spectacularly frightening but we had a battalion of guardian angles backing us up that day. Jake went on to be the toast of the wedding reception with his jaunty dance moves and his overflowing affection for anyone wearing a dress. It was our great fortune to have the grandparents at the same wedding with child seats in their car. The Mrs, myself and the ever prescient Big Little Brother took the train back to Philly. This event extended the car loan from 2.5 years to 5 as we are now responsible for paying off the loan on a new Toyota Sienna ... Family Tank v2.0. Bear in mind that this is the first foreign auto (ok, it is 95% manufactured in Indiana, but still) in our fleet so this was a major paradigm shift for me.
Other little hiccups included some stress in my health and the mortal combat of the Mrs's mother's health. It was rough going for 3/4ths of the year with the loyal and staunchly supportive daughter bouncing back between home and NYC at least once a month.
Enough of that kvetching, how about some happy-happy news. Things did go well for us this year in spite of the acerbic experiences peppered throughout. The Mrs bought herself a Tivo unit and we are now officially addicted. Fast forwarding though commercials has made our lives so much easier with the Wonder Twin Tyrants. No more worry about the effects of direct marketing to their developing brains at Christmas. Just a blur and complaints when we don't skip the commercials fast enough. I know that advertising executives are leaping from their corner office windows on Madison Ave just at the thought of it.
Have a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year sans the face in the porcelain receptacle. Love, Hope and Apple Scented Rubber Bands - The Clan Haupertonian
Technorati Tags:Christmas | Family | Children
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
As I drove away from the Day Care/ReEducation Complex this morning, I looked in the rear-view mirror to see the kids waving me off. It made my heart ache just a tad. I know that in the modern age, it is 'acceptable' to abandon your children to the beastly jungles of non-parental care. It just feels a bit awkward to me. I'll be missing so much of their lives that the meager 4 hours I get to spend with them each day will not bring this remorse to surcease. Alas, it is what it is and I'll do my best in the minutes I have available. I'd like to think that thus far, I've done as much for them as expected ... and a touch beyond. In the wisdom of their middle-ages, they will probably recognize this as I have with my forbearers. The longing to toss my modern life into the dust-bin and start home-schooling has come up more than once. This half baked idea would require a bit more effort, patience and discipline that I have for it though. The Mrs and I are on a path we planned out long before the children came along but not before they were considered. Sure, deviations will be considered and alterations have been made and the goal remains constant. Though, with such a narrow path, there is always doubt. A seemingly impassible rock wall on one side, a deadly plummet to the shattered rocks of catastophy on the other. It is doubt and mistrust of our vision that will trip us up. Doubt through what has failed to work and suspicion that future failure will come to pass. I just need this little reminder, posted to the wall next to my seat of internment at work, to remind me that there is no time for indulgences such as self-doubt and foppish, lackluster efforts. So no, I'll gleefully leap to my battered legs in the morning when the alarm beckons me forth to fetch my wards and provide them with all the physical, intellectual and spiritual nutrients I can muster. That said, I still feel rotten for leaving them every morning. I guess an extra present (not socks or underwear) under the tree for them might make it up to them and ease my troubled conscious.
Technorati Tags:Children | Family
It's been quite quiet out there. An eerie preternatural form of quiet, like one you experience right before a violent act of nature. Such as a tornado, or earthquake ... or Christmas. Yeah, that's it. Everyone is busy buying me GIFTS! YEAH! And I want a reciprocating Milwaukee V28 Sawzall ... and a new Husqvarna 3120XP 119cc chainsaw ... and a 10K watt Briggs & Stratton 9801 Portable Generator ... and earplugs. With all that noise amongst the silence, you'd need them. Yep, just like the ones that Libbi needed for her cat. Only difference is that the utilization of earplugs in her case was not typical. It makes me think, if a cat horks up a hairball in the hallway and nobody steps on it, did it really happen? Check the vet bill, it won't lie.
On the religious side, Miss Chris is starting to speak in tongues, or at least she is giving it her best effort. I'll expect her happy household to re-enact the Tower of Babble some time soon as the various languages of the world echo through the hallways. Like a Micro UN ... with out all the bickering. It would be nice if all members of the UN were required to have martial arts training ... the debates would be much more entertaining!
Speaking of entertaining, it seems that one of our highly regarded diplomats of the MSBlogosphere has recently been admitted to the hospital. We all cannot have good days all the time, but she deserves one more so than not. The prolific writing she has done is an inspiration to many of us and we pray for her rapid recovery and the return of her to the rightful position of High Chancellor of Literary Tomfoolery as soon as possible. It's just not the same without a healthy helping of BrainCheese from the Cornucopia of Crap. Drop her a note and let her know we miss her terribly.
The noise of silence continues to haunt me as I read through the ordeal that Wendy (GandKsMom) had to go through. A less than proficient doctor (beside manner? wazzat!?) has sentenced her to solitary confinement within an MRI. We love those things, no? Personally, I fall asleep in them every time. Although, I have the sneaking suspicion that the staff behind that mirrored glass window is looking up my gown or making faces at me. Mom always told me to make sure to wear clean underwear. It was her great fortune though, that she also fell into a blissful slumber with the help of Prince Valium. Me thinks that the Good Doctor has spent much to much time trying to terrify her about the Dark Hole of Calcutta and not enough time contemplating that a great part of being a physician is treating PEOPLE as well as the disease they suffer from.
Finally, Kim speaks up sans her podcast format to run down a list of all the wonders that research has produced this year. Not the Top 10 list you would expect either. Her efforts to keep this community informed have garnered her much silent approbation. Even in the harried days leading up to Christmas and New Years, she still finds time to pull out the bull-horn and keep us abreast of news that directly impacts us. So tune in, read her product, and sample the fruit of her silver tongue.Crossposted from Charles's site as a service to mankind!
Technorati Tags:Multiple Sclerosis | Heros
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
All I have to say, is "BY ODIN'S GREAT GIRDLE!".
MADRID: Spanish surgeons have successfully performed a double hand transplant on a 47-year-old woman. She had lost both her hands in an explosion in a laboratory where she was studying chemistry nearly 30 years ago. She is recuperating in the hospital, after the 10-hour surgery performed on 30 November.I'm wondering what this could mean for our boys coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan sans limbs.
According to Pedro Cavadas, teach leader of the surgeons at the La Fe de Valencia Hospital in Valencia, where the transplant surgery was performed, her new hands will recover sensation in five or six months. She is likely to be discharged from the hospital this week.
Tow away zone
Yesterday was so uneventful, I'm not going to even bother with the bizarre image paring with the text. We had a group holiday lunch from 1200 till 1500 and went home after that. Work was uneventful. There was a NEW HP parker at the gym and I had not ordered my shaped plasticized explosive charges yet. DAMMIT. I was forced to settle for the standard 'NOT A PARKING SPOT, THNX' note. One thing both these events had in common is the patron hostile parking tendencies of businesses and the balkanized townships have around here. If you are anywhere near one of the inbred 'downtown' areas of these bedroom communities, you are doomed to have to park on some neighborhood street and make your way back to the main drag. Here decayed sidewalks (when they exist) and inaccessible alleys await you. For the most part, this is not the case at the Gym, but the locals are conditioned to take advantage of any open space and make it their own, no matter what the cost to others. I'm one step from talking to the front desk staff about this. Or just calling the local constabulary and asking them to administer some 'tough love'. I've got enough police/sheriff/military support stickers on my bumper to earn me a bit of quid pro quo when it comes to these sorts of civil complaints.
Technorati Tags: Swimming | Work | Parking
Monday, December 11, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Saved the village...
Odd item to note: I'm really starting to appreciate my new employer. When leaving the complex today, I noticed that the 3 4 story flagpoles looked odd ... as I drove by, the picture became clear. All the flags were at half mast. December 7th, 1941. I'm starting to feel that these guys take patriotism fairly seriously. I wonder what they did on September 11th. Today, they are back up and once again I notice something I never thought to take note of before ... the POW flag beneath the US flag. As I drove away, off to pick up the Tyrants, I noted the Airbase was quite busy. The Marine Warthogs (A-10) were zipping about like a swarm of hornets, the Cavalry was scooting their choppers about and they even had what looked like a MH-53E Sea Dragon trimming the barren tree-tops. Quite a show, I was expecting to see an rubber-necking incident or two so I got my but out of there as quickly as possible. There was a high ceiling and the cold front had made visibility nearly infinite ... a good day for training drills I suppose. Or a good day to show that we won't be caught off guard again. Either way, it was quite a show. I love working where I am now, so many intangible benefits.
Technorati Tags:Gas | Swimming| Children | Military
Thursday, December 07, 2006
And then there is Tung Soo Do practice. Tuesday night, in the 'Grownup' class, there was a treat waiting for me. Something called the 'Night of a Thousand Kicks'. Let me draw a picture for you. Imagine if you will, exhausting yourself with an hour of swimming, an hour of calisthenics and then opting to spend another 30-45 minutes precipitously balanced on an appendage where you have one toe that may be broken and a wrenched ankle. Then attempt to kick as high as your fatigued muscles will allow and fail to do so nearly every time you try. So, I'm starting out with 500 sloppy wuss kicks and 500 potentially good ones. Nope. Needless to say, if I used to limp a bit, I don't now since the motivation for movement is insufficient to overcome the intolerance for discomfort. Move, I do not, thus no limping. So, it'll be easier the next night, right? Hardly. I was introduced to the bungee cord punch correction technique. I would not call it a 'Night of a Thousand Punches' though. More apropos, 'A Night of a Thousand Invalid Sissy Slap-Fight Blows". Needless to say,(but I do anyways) I was provided with sufficient motivation to abandon my ballerina punches for the more effective and powerfully delivered ones (ie. ones of proper form and force). Given that there are greater things in this world to be feared then the pernicious vastitude of pain, the recidivist lassitude and nature of the human condition in the face of adversity is a constant foe against whom we must struggle. Even more so for those of us who carry the burden of infirmity or frailty. As a friend of BrainCheese noted, we must 'Lean into it'.
Technorati Tags:Traffic | Karate
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Late again! I'll be late for my own funeral, no doubt. The universe is applying full force in keeping my from my appointed rounds. I shall have the last laugh though. Oh yes, arrogant universal oppressor, I shall post and post vividly of my electronic traversal of the MSScape of the Blogosphere! By the way, if I'm missing anyone here (my mind is like a sieve), just ping me (comments, email, smoke signal) and beckon me to to come hither and perused your literary offerings. Jeeze, that almost sounds dirty.
I found a 'new to me' blog the other day. Sean Spence has dedicated himself to a Missouri to Manhattan cycle trek that puts any manual locomotion I have ever done to shame. All of the proceeds will be donated to the National MS Society. Damn fine man be you Sean. Good luck and God speed.
On the other side of the world, Maggs is feeling the weight of the world slowly slip from her back as she counts down to her Chiropractic visit. Isn't that the way it goes? The second you step into the waiting room, your veins disappear and your symptoms fade. It must be something they put into the air like the smell of cookies vented out on Main Street USA at Disney World. It's a dirty plot to collect co-pays I tell ya!
While the King may have no robes, both Dave and Jamie are busy slipping something more comfortable on at their sites. Of course, you'll need to use IE to get the full effect, but such are the vicissitudes of the technical world we are all denizens. Check it out and ask questions should you feel that a change of scenery is for you. Me? I'm a stoic spartan so I'll stick with my command line arguments. I'll leave the aesthetic appreciation of an elegantly crafted template for the more artistic of the audience.
Speaking of artistic and appreciative of the arts, Beth's babe, Nehemiah, is really making his presence felt. If I ever get too full of myself, I just need to take a look at how a single, spiritual new mom with ms and a very interesting career is taking on the world and doing a very fine job of it. She makes me want to be a better person, and that's not just some bromide or platitude! She posts when opportunity presents itself so stay tuned!
Finally, my favorite 'pole dancer for MS', Sherry, is strutting her stuff at the PT bar. If I knew that PT could be so intriguing I would have signed up years ago. I see a business opportunity here for a new type of bar. MS folk stumble in to have a drink and strut their stuff. Would be hard for the local constabulary to determine if you had too much though ... we always stumble and slur our words. That being said, make sure to cheer her on as she sashays her sassy self to and fro. Odd, I think I know just the country song that would go good on her cybernetic iPod.
Crossposted from Charles's site as a service to mankind!
Technorati Tags:Heros | Multiple Sclerosis
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
It finally got cold last night. Damn cold. Well, ok. Not really. It did finally get below freezing. And that was the last straw, I had to turn on the computerized thermostat and program in the High/Low temps and kick over the furnace. Yep, I finally bent to the will of the bothersome family and tossed a lump of coal into poor Bob Cratchit's stove. A bit too late in the opinion of the Tyrants though. At 0300 this morning they assaulted the bed and drove me into a route. I ended up sleeping in the basement while the warmth-loving segment of the clan huddled together in the Temporary Master Suite. Serves me right I suppose. When you need to chip a hole in the ice that forms within the toilet bowl, it's time to loosen the purse-strings and put the stingy predilections of scrooge behind me. One thing I manage to do in the morning is empty the spent fuel from the stove and put a nice bed of the remaining unburnt charcoal at the bottom. Stack up some tinder and fuel wood in the standard boy-scout formation so that the Mrs just needs to throw a match at it and, POOF! Instant warming fire. Now that the Furnace boot-straps the cavernous dark places of the Manor to a ROASTING 58 degrees, the distance between there and the comfort zone will be much easier to cover. Good-bye 125$ utility bills, hello EBay Kidney Sale.
And speaking of extracted meat, here is the impetus of the title:
It’s a fact—ham, sausage, and bacon strips will go right to your hips. Eating pork products, which are loaded with artery-clogging cholesterol and saturated fat, is a good way to increase your waistline and increase your chances of developing deadly diseases such as heart disease, diabetes, arthritis, osteoporosis, Alzheimer’s, asthma, and impotence. Research has shown that vegetarians are 50 percent less likely to develop heart disease, and they have 40 percent of the cancer rate of meat-eaters.So, yes. I eat port in spite of this. There are several other propaganda type points they posit at the site, but they would surely not post anything that would support the opposition. I have to consider the intrinsic unfairness and brutality of just eating veggies. It's a pogrom against veggies I tell ya![+/-] show/hide the rest of this post
Technorati Tags: Children | Winter | Wood Heat
Monday, December 04, 2006
Limited time offer
Technorati Tags:Karate | Children | Knights Of Columbus