White Lightning Axiom: Redux: Buried

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

 

Buried

sleet
I'll have to make this quick as I am trying to wrap up 100 disparate tasks and still keep my sanity. This is going to be one of those awful 'status only' type posts to let you know that I still persevere to breath air. The Ever Lovely Mrs had a birthday this past weekend ... just a few hours short of having a leap-year birthdate. That would have been entirely too entertaining, but alas, she is still only a few years younger than the wizened old fart who she calls here husband. Additionally, the Parental Units made one of their Monthly trips to ensure that the Tyrants would treat them fairly after the Great Apocalyptic Reckoning. Oddly enough, in a bizarre convergence of events, an old college friend (Mandy) stopped by on her way from California. Atilla was busy at her girl scout-brownie-daisy Juliet Low World Thinking Day what-dat-and-chew event, so it was up to me to entertain while the Mrs was detained as glorified limo driver. Fortunately, the Super Grandma was about to do most of the heavy lifting (like making snacks ... I'm only good at making them disappear) so we were not too shamed by our lack of preparation. Sunday came and went, only to leave us with a pile of snow and some sub-freezing temperatures. I had the foresight to go out and chop a month's worth of firewood and then lug it into the manor so we had some source of BTUs for the next week. That wood burns quickly when you are trying to keep your digits from snapping off. We were fortunate in that one of our more friendly neighbors had come back from a trip to warmer climes and needed a technical resource to help him out with a malfunctioning snow-blower. I gave him a few tips on how to get it to turn over (it had been sitting for 2 years, the ignition chamber was dry and the plug was corroded) and in a fit of gratitude, he cleared our mile long drive for us. That kept me inside for and extra 2.5 hours. We were going to do a few other things, but nearly every place we went, the doors were locked. The more important places were open, of course: TSD, Dentist, Piano. Of course, the studio ended up closing on Tuesday because the electric furnace failed and the ambient air temperature dropped to somewhere between 'Brrrr' and 'colder than a plumbers wrench in February'.

School Mid-Terms ... they are BRUTAL. Attila won the spelling bee the other day, so I'm not worried about her performance in the upcoming tests, but Ghengis finds very little use for all them high-falutin' fancy words and there is nothing he cannot say without a good round-house to the solar-plexus or ridge-hand to the temple. Trying to explain the difference of 'their' and 'there' to a 6 year old is a Sisyphean labor when you learned it by wrote. Lord, have mercy on his little heart because he will be crushed if he does not perform well.



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