Haircuts

Today I looked at Sam and decided for him that it was time for a haircut. He wants to grow it out so it looks cool, but his hair is as thick as a chinchilla's hair is, so it mostly just turns into a greasy bush. So I took him out to Cost Cutters. They were closed on Sunday. So then we drove to Great Clips. They were packed. We would have had to wait over an hour. No thanks! So I told him I would cut it. I did cut it, and I think I did a pretty good job.



It looks better than it did before so then I was feeling cocky and decided, because Beth's new bangs look so cute, that I would cut bangs for myself. I haven't had bangs for years and as I was holding the hair up and the scissors were moving, I thought NO! DON'T MAKE THAT CUT! THAT'S THE WRONG PLACE! IT'S GOING TO LOOK CHOPPY AND BUTCH!" Too late, I couldn't stop my fingers in time. Now I look like Leather Tuscadero.

Me and Amy

A while back Amy and I were sitting around her apartment with a digital camera and we decided that there aren't too many good pictures of either of us, and we need a few, so we decided to take pictures until we got good ones. Here is the pictorial journal of that adventure.

Here's the picture that started the whole thing. I took this of Amy and we looked at it, laughed and then decided that despite being unbelievably un-photogenic (or uglier than we think we are) we were going to get some good pictures of us.

This is the first attempt at a good picture. I look a little chunky (I was a little chunky). It's an okay pic, but not exactly a glamour shot.

Here's the second attempt. What is my eye doing? I'll tell you, I was stretching my chunky face back to give myself a poor-man's face lift and I made my eye go wonky. Again, no glamour shot.

Okay, this one I was really going for the glamour shot. You can tell by the sexy arm position, the tousled I-just-had-sex hair, and the attempt at a seductive smile. It looks like I have Bell's Palsy.

Amy suggested I go lower and look up at the camera in order to downplay my chubby chin. My arm looks like a ham.

Amy said, "That looks good, go lower, the lower you go the better you look."


So I went lower...

and lower....

Until we finally got it perfect! We were on to something. Amy's turn!

I told her to look like a sexy librarian. She doesn't.

So we tried a different tack. Totally hot and sexy, leave nothing to the imagination. This is Amy's best slut look. That's mom having a little nap in the background, (Hi Mom!) I suppose if you are trying to take a sexy pic, it helps not to have your mom in it - Photography 101.

Next we tried the "the less you see, the better we look" method. I like the fingers clutching the pillow. She looks like a peeping tom. Back to me...

Amy said, "Let's try for an up close candid!" Here's me being candid. I was trying to look like I was having fun, laughing with friends, happy-go-lucky. No, I was not drunk. Or tired.

We looked at the last one and Amy said, "Oh... let's try again, we can do better. Cheekbones, give me cheekbones!" I gave her nostrils. Modeling is hard!

Amy told me to pull my neck flesh back and try to make my lips look like they've had collagen. This is that attempt. It's ridiculous isn't it? Now that you know what I felt like I looked like, and this is what actually came out. I look like I've been caught practicing auto-erotic asphyxiation.

So we gave up on the glamour and tried to take a good one of the two of us.

Robot Brother

Every March the Mini-Mite hockey teams have a tournament in Silver Bay. The kids love it because we stay at a hotel with a water slide. Usually my nieces, who also both play hockey, participate in the tournament too, and they stay with us at the hotel. I came across this picture today and it reminds me of a funny story.

We were driving in the car on the weekend of the tournament. Rory (niece) Sam and Kira were in the back seat and they were getting really silly and loud and obnoxious. They had snacks and were throwing food around and just generally being annoying. We had asked them to settle down several times, but they were tired and punchy and weren't listening. Mitch got mad and told them to knock it off and clean up everything they threw around. Sam and Rory felt bad. They are sensitive and don't like to be in trouble, but Kira doesn't care. She doesn't have the ability to feel guilty about things like that. The kids were picking up their mess as we were driving into Silver Bay. At the edge of town there is a statue of a miner (pictured above) that Kira loves. When we drove by it, Kira started talking in monotone, like a robot, and said, "HELLO ROBOT BROTHER. MAY I OFFER YOU A CHEEZ-IT?" Mitch and I were still trying to maintain a level of tension so the kids would know that we were in charge and were serious, blah blah blah but we were both laughing so hard tears were streaming from our eyes. It's really hard to laugh silently too. It kinda hurts. Later that day when we were leaving town to go home and we drove by the statue again, Kira said "FAREWELL ROBOT BROTHER... UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN."

Rory and Rheo

Hi. This is a picture of my kids with my nieces Rheo (left) and Aurora (right). Aurora is three weeks older than Kira, and Rheo is six. I'm crazy about these girls. They are so great. Rory (Aurora's nickname) spoke really early but she had all these crazy made up words for things. One time she was over at my house when she was about three years old. She could speak perfectly clearly and she came up to me and she told me she wanted some eeps. I didn't know what that was so I had her repeat herself over and over and say it slower in case I just wasn't understanding. Nope, I heard right, it was eeps that she wanted. I learned later that eeps was her word for water. The poor little child was thirsty and wanted water and I didn't give it to her because I didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

The first time she saw a helicopter flying she said, "Hey Dad! That plane is flying with it's antlers!" Another time she told me a long involved story about how they ran over a porcupine with their car and the "porks" popped all four tires. (The whole story was made up, but she is a fantastic liar. She puts lots of details and never cracks a smile when she's telling tales.) One time shortly after that, she and her sister were on a hike with their parents and they came across a bush with lots of thorns. She said, "Rheo, watch out for the porks." Makes sense! Why else would a porcupine be called a porcupine? She calls the cement things in parking lots that mark where you are supposed to stop "cementiums." Also, makes sense. Better than calling them "cement-things-in-parking-lots-that-mark-where-you-are-supposed-to-stop."

Last weekend the girls were visiting us and we were driving somewhere and Rory and Rheo made up a game to play. They had to combine the qualities of two animals that they like to make one animal they really like and make up a new name for them. Rory made up snake-bird type thing and I can't remember what she called it, but I could picture it. It has four wings. (gross) And Rheo made up a "horsegg." She said, "It's an egg and when it cracks a tweensy horse comes out!"

Mama, I'm a Comin' Home

A few weeks ago I wrote about Kira's amazing song-writing ability. We found her long song, "Mama, I'm a Comin' Home" and she wants it published, so here it is: (it's a ballad, sung mournfully)

Oh one night I left my Mama
I went into the woods
Whenever I saw my Mama in the clouds
I thought sooner or later I'll find my way back
Usually I was out hunting
I usually wouldn't get a full meal
Every night when I'd look up at the starlight
I could hear some wolves in the distance

After a month or two I found a stream
And decided to camp there
And that same night that I saw that stream
I saw some lights in the distance
It was probably a mile or two
I set out the next morning
And I found out what it was
And it was a bear trap and a hunter
So I crept back to the stream
And never went back there again

The next day I started to go hunting as usual
And that day it was a very good day for hunting
And that same day I fount my Mama
And told her I'm never running away again!

That's it! She is practicing it now and when she gets good at singing it she wants to put it on YouTube.

Funny Teeth Pictures

Kira in the car (part II)

Tonite with Mitch, Kira asked, "If you could have any super powers which would you choose: Flying, turning invisible, super strength, the ability to turn into goo, or the ability to turn into a hamster?" Mitch said he would like super strength and to be able to fly. Kira thought about it and then said she would like the ability to turn into a hamster. Mitch asked why and she said, "You know, to defuse bombs and stuff." (duh) He asked how a hamster would go about defusing a bomb and she said, "I'd chew the wires... (pause) ... I'd probably get electrocuted a lot." Then she said the worst power would be to turn into goo. She said, "What if you wanted to hide from someone so you turned into goo, and then they stepped on you and slipped and their butt hit you in the face." Indeed.

Potty Mouth

Kira's been having a lot of fun with me lately by making me think she is blatantly swearing. She says things like, "Hell.....'s Kitchen was a fun restaurant to go to." Or "Shiht...zus are cute dogs." Or "Dam... is what a beaver builds." I'm waiting for her to combine them all into one sentence. She's not there yet. Today she said to Mitch, "Dad, did you know that bird skin is see-through?" He asked her how she knew that and she said she looked at our cockatiel's stomach. He said, "How did you do that?" and she said, "um..... she let me."

The new math

My kids and I invented a fun and educational new game we call Child Abuse Math. It's totally sick and they love it! It started with me holding Kira's hand and telling her that she had to tell me what three times two was. I wouldn't let go until she told me. She told me that if she gave the wrong answer I had to squeeze harder. (SHE told ME that)

She gave the wrong answer, I squeezed harder, she flinched and laughed and laughed and then gave the right answer. Sam heard the fun and wanted in on it. He literally shoved his skinny little forearm into my fist and said, "Give me one!" So I asked him to tell me what three cubed is. He said nine, I squeezed, both kids squealed with glee and pain and then he gave me the right answer.

Then I started making up word problems like, "If you have 28 teeth, and I give you a roundhouse kick to the face that knocks out 9, how many teeth do you have left?" They were in hysterics. What is wrong with these children! Then I asked Kira, "If you have 32 liters of blood, and I beat 8 liters out of you, how many liters of blood do you have left?" I thought she was going to pee her pants she was laughing so hard! I think I've stumbled onto something big here!

Student teacher

I get to do a month of student teaching starting tomorrow. I'm expanding my license so that I can teach middle school as well as secondary school so I had to take some classes and now I have to do a month of student teaching in sixth grade. I am not looking forward to it very much. The schedule seems easy enough, and the teacher I'm teaching with seems nice enough (even though she's about ten years younger than me - WTF?) but I really really hate getting up and showering at 6 am. I am not a morning person so I'm not crazy about getting up two hours before the sun comes up, but I'll do it. It's not that, it's the combination of getting up, and immediately showering. Something about being wet and naked in what seems like the middle of the night in January is extremely unappealing. Maybe I'll just go to school dirty. Wish me luck!

Why I Married Mitch

A long time ago, when Mitch and I first started going out I had a dream, and at that was the day I knew that he was the man I was going to marry. It was one of those dreams that is so real, the kind that keeps you thinking all day long.

Here it is: I was in high school (in the dream, not in real life) and school had just been let out for the day so the parking lot was full of kids and teachers. All of a sudden, Libyan terrorists in a white van drove into the parking lot (think Back To The Future), and started menacing all of the students. Chaos! Students screaming, Libyans shooting in the air and yelling at kids and then a hush descended on the crowd starting by the arena. Then there was some whispering, "Is that the Sultan?... I think it's the Sultan,... That's got to be the Sultan...." And then people starting yelling, "It's going to be okay! The Sultan is here!" and sure enough, a man with a veil over his face came out into the parking lot and started KICKING ASS. He had those terrorists back in their van and running home with their tails between their legs. Everyone was totally impressed and amazed with the Sultan. There were cheers, "Yay Sultan! You saved us!" I was every bit as dazzled as everyone else and then the Sultan walked up to me and briefly lifted his veil.

It Was Mitch.

He put his finger to his lips in a gesture that told me to keep his secret and then he ran off into the sunset, with all of Falls High cheering him on. And that is (one of the many reasons) why I married Mitch.

Sid

This is my new favorite picture of my new niece Sidney. Not because her face is ugly, (her face is adorably gorgeous, even if she is a little cross-eyed) but because there is nothing cuter than the back of a baby's head. My mouth waters when I look at this because I want to pinch her soft scalp with my lips. I also want to pinch her chubby little shoulders and bite her little ears. I used to think this urge to bite and pinch babies was a little sick until one time when Sam was a baby I admitted to my sister Amy that I wanted to bite his head, and she was unphased. She then said, "I want to break his arms."

Birdie

I found this picture on our fridge. I don't know which one of the kids drew it but I love it because it really sums up their relationship with our cockatiel. We got her a few months ago, she's very sweet, but I know if you're not a bird person, no amount of bird charm will win you over. I can understand the aversion. Just the other day I was telling Auntie Sarah how this bird is so much better than the parrot I used to have. I said, "She doesn't scream very much, she doesn't bite the kids, and when she poops on me it's really small and hardly wet at all." Wow, that sounds so great doesn't it? All good qualities to have in any pet. The kids love her but they trigger her "Oh my god a predator!" instinct mostly because they are able to startle her on a pretty regular basis, (she'd be dead in five minutes in the wild) usually with a poke to the back of the head, as depicted in the picture above. The picture doesn't tell the story of what happens after though, when she screams and flaps, and sometimes falls right off her perch (birds are VERY clumsy) and then complains for 20 minutes afterward with little bickering chirps. Hard to draw a picture of that.

Boring weekend (but productive!)

I spent almost the whole weekend cleaning my house. It was disgusting. It's perfect right now, and Kira is out and will be gone for about another hour and then the dream is over so I have to enjoy it now. I shouldn't say it's perfect, Sam has been in his room cutting styrofoam and building things out of it all day so there are little static-charged bits of white stuff carried out of his room every time he walks out of it. We got him a hot-wire styrofoam cutter (that's his medium of choice) for Christmas and all he wanted for his birthday was styrofoam so that's what he got. Twenty five bucks worth (that's a LOT.) Happy Birthday. His current project involves taking apart some of his old R/C toys and making new, home-made R/C toys. He's learning a lot about electronics. Right now he's working on a snow plow.

Jealous?

This is what I came home to today. This is the snowbank next to our driveway. If you can't tell, it's "Mitch J" written in pee. I can't be sure, but I think I know who did it. But why would he do it? I don't really know and I haven't seen him yet to ask him. I'm wondering how awkward it will be if any actual grownups come to our house and see it. (but I am posting it on the internet, so how embarrassing could it be.) I found myself standing out in the cold admiring his work (the letters are very big and it was obviously a thick ropey stream) and I think he must have been holding it for a long time today, perhaps planning it. He should have drunk more diet coke and then he would have had enough for the "ohnson" if that is, in fact, who wrote it.

Sing it!

Kira made up a song on the way home from school today. It is sung to the tune of Deck the Halls:

Sa a a a a a am is u u u u u u u u gly... That's about it. She said she likes it because it's a good tune and it's true. (it's not true)

She wrote a long song a while back called Mama, I'm A Comin' Home and it was fantastic. It was a ballad about how she ran away and had to live in the woods and hunt for food, and one day she saw a bear etc. etc. (there was an exceptional amount of hunting) We wrote it down, but we can't find it anywhere! How frustrating! I asked her if I could post it and her answer was, "of course!" She wants to make a video of us singing it and put it on Youtube.

She used to sing made up songs in the car all the time. Our favorites were Dirt Bag and And the Ball Got Lost. Dirt Bag was a naughty little tune about things getting flushed down the toilet that would send Sam into hysterics, and And the Ball Got Lost was a very sad ballad about a boy who lost his ball under the Christmas tree. She sang it in a very quavery voice and Mitch and I had to try excrutiatingly hard not to let her hear us laughing or else she would stop singing. I will keep looking for Mama, I'm A Comin' Home and if I find it I will post it.

Sport rant

I was thinking about sports today, and I'm not a fan. (Although I love watching the olympics. hmm...) My whole family and all my in-laws are in love with hockey. I was thinking, in general about different sports today and I think hockey is the third stupidest sport. Football is first, by far. Any sport where you know there's a better than average chance that you'll become crippled, either from an immediate snap to the neck or from arthritis later in life, is idiotic. That's just a fact. Hockey is the third stupidest because in order to play, you have to have a special climate controlled building (expensive) so you can freeze a sheet of ice and then strap sharp blades to your feet (dangerous) and go slide around on it and chase a puck with sticks. As a parent it's no fun for me because I can't actually see my kids. They are hidden behind about 40 pounds of padding and clothing to keep them warm and to protect their bodies from the rock hard ice, and razor sharp blades on everyone's feet.

There is a whole hockey culture that grates on my nerves too. The parents are super fans. I kind of feel bad for not being that in to my kid's activities. (sorry honey, I'm just not that into you) The moms run the concession stand at the local rink every day. The first year Sam was in hockey one of the moms called and left a message on our machine telling me my volunteer schedule for the concession stand. I don't think they really get what volunteer means. The dads flood the outdoor rink every night. They do it in shifts so each shift has to do it about two or three times a week. During games the parents come totally decked out in the team colors or in team jerseys and jackets and sweatshirts, and they scream and cheer and ring cowbells. Yes, I said cowbells. Why? I'm flabbergasted by it. It's not like that in soccer. The parents all go, but they sit on the sidelines and make jokes like, "So, what DAY do you think this game will end? Ha ha ha." Hockey parents never do that, and a little tip - they don't like when other people do it either. Oh, and the locker rooms in arenas STINK.

The second stupidest sport is figure skating, for all the same reasons as hockey, but without any protective gear for the scantily clad little darlings doing spinning jumps with blades on their feet. Hello concussion! Nice to meet you!

Kira's New Move

Kira has a new hockey move that she tried out last week. She gets the puck in a breakaway, and when she gets close to the goalie she yells, "Watch this!" and throws a glove, and when the goalie looks at the glove, she scores. It works but she's been discouraged from doing it. I suppose it's like a "cry wolf" type deal and she should hone her actual hockey skills instead of her I-can-outsmart-an-8-year-old skills.

There was a hockey tournament last weekend. We traveled to Aurora/Hoyt Lakes and watched a LOT of hockey. After the exciting first 10 minutes of the first of many MANY games, I went to the local Ben Franklin and got some yarn and a crochet hook and crocheted four hats.

I'm an old wife

I figured out where old wives tales come from. They come from mothers lying to their children to get them to do what the mothers want. Over the excruciatingly long vacation from school, I convinced Sam to shave off his creepy little mustache. He was really proud of it, but it was pervy looking. He looked dirty. So I nagged and nagged about it and then when I told him it would come in fuller, he finally gave in. Now I think he's expecting to look like Magnum P.I. by Valentine's Day. I wonder what kind of memory he's going to have of the whole experience too, because he was too chicken to shave it himself, so I had to sort of put him in a head lock and make faces at him to show him how to move his mouth so I could shave it. He looks SO much better now.

I turned into a total slug over the break. I got an incredibly bad cold so I sat on the couch, watched TV, played computer games and bossed my kids around. Good times. Now I have to get back into real life: working, exercising, answering the phone, getting dressed, showering... etc.

Happy New Year!

We've let the kids in on a little secret this year - they've never actually stayed up until midnight on New Year's Eve. We've always lied and told them it was midnight when it was actually anywhere between 8:00 and 9:30. A few years ago there was a party at an outdoor hockey rink that we went to and we left at 9:00 and told the kids it turned midnight when we were in the car. We did the countdown and everything and the kids rolled down their windows and yelled "Happy New Year" at the top of their lungs to anyone who would listen. They were in bed by 10:00.

But this year they are wise to the whole plot so they are watching the clock. I think they're bored and tired and probably want to go to bed (I want to go to bed) but we are determined to see 2009 come in. We'll all be in bed by 12:07.

Happy New Year!

Happy Birthday Sam!

My baby boy is TWELVE years old today! I can't believe it! He has a mustache and he's almost as tall as me, and soon enough, his voice will change. I found a note in his pocket when I was doing laundry written in pink ink that said, "Will you go out with me? Yes or no." It's so like Sam to just shove it in his pocket and forget about it, meanwhile some girl is spending her whole holiday break wondering what the hell he's thinking. This is his last year of childhood, then it's on to teenage-hood. Boo hoo!

Happy Birthday Sam! I love you to the moon and back again!

TMI

Today Sam was helping Mitch outside hauling a power washer into the shed. He was pushing it and it was really heavy. Mitch said that if he pulled it instead, it wouldn't be so hard on the ole' nutsack. Sam said, "It's okay, Dad, it's not that big yet."

Yesterday in the car Sam and Kira were talking about Sam's pet crayfish. Sam and Kira both caught a bunch of crayfish in August in Rainy Lake. Two of Sam's are still alive and living in an aquarium in his room. They eat lunchmeat. One is named Cheesecurds and the other is named Fries. Sam used to have three of them, but one day one was gone. We still don't know where it went. I suppose it climbed out of the aquarium and got away, but we can't find it anywhere. It is probably living in the toilet, growing more and more every day until sometime in the dead of night it will emerge and kill us all. Anyhoo.... Kira had a few crayfish that she kept alive for a while, but most of them died because she left them out in the sun, and her last one, Bad Eye Guy, died in September. Sam asked how Bad Eye Guy died because he couldn't remember, and Kira got a far away stare on her face and said in a sing-song voice, "Bad Eye Guy died... he died a long time ago..." She scares me sometimes.

Third graders

Kira tells me that her school is haunted. Many many years ago, in the olden days (the seventies) a kid died in the boy's bathroom and now he haunts it. He bit her friend Austin in the arm one day. No kidding! There are two janitors at Kira's school. They are both old (in Kira's eyes) but Randy is nice because he has a horn on his trashcan, and Bob is not so nice because he never talks and he is the one who always gets called to clean up puke. Apparently Bob IS the ghost. He died in the bathroom when he was a kid. This story went through school for a few days and then some brave kid actually asked Bob if it was true. Bob told them that he is not the ghost, Randy is. Randy was once Bob's baby and he died when Bob brought him to work one day, and now he came back as an old man ghost and he helps Bob, his dad, with his work. (morbid) I don't know if this is all true, seeing that this version of the story is coming to me through about 15 third graders, but it is interesting, isn't it?

Nyquil hangover

I have the worst cold in the world. I feel like I'm breathing through a coffee stirrer, my throat feels like I drank lava (HOT lava). I took Nyquil last night because I LOVE Nyquil. I took the recommended dose, one full dosage cup, but I think it was too much because I still feel it and it does NOT feel good the day after. I think that particular dosage must really be for a 350 pound alcoholic with the metabolism of a hummingbird. It feels like when I was sleeping someone took out my lungs and stuffed dirty, soggy dishrags in them, and while they were out my rib cage got run over by a bus with tire chains on it. My brain feels like it was injected with Novacaine and today my whole body feels like your lip feels when the Novacaine starts wearing off. I feel like I look like this:

No, it's worse than that, it's this:

Nyquil must be a gateway drug because I can't wait until bedtime to take more.

Ghost Mustache

We drove up to I.Falls today for Christmas with the Lindahls. I was playing my iPod through the radio and Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield came on. I downloaded this for Kira a while ago because I want her to listen to empowering lyrics, you know, positive stuff to encourage her to be all that she can be and all that. Well, Kira doesn't understand the lyrics to Unwritten. Here's what they actually are:

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions..... blah blah blah

Kira thought the one line was: Reaching for "the gho -ost mustache"

That changes the whole song! It's no longer empowering as much as it is confusing. Then Take a Walk On the Wild Side by Lou Reed came on. She heard those lyrics loud and clear and had lots of questions. Here's the lyrics:

Candy came from out on the island
In the backroom she was everybodys darling
But she never lost her head
Even when she was given head
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
Said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side

Thankfully, she directed her questions to Sam, who is just as clueless of the many rich and varied meanings of "head" as she is. Sam thinks it probably means that she punched someone in the head, and while she was in the fight, she didn't lose her head and get punched herself.

Sam also said that he got some gum in his stocking this morning that "is so minty it's painful." I tried some. It is. It feels like taking a straight shot of vodka and it also makes diet coke taste like silly putty. I don't recommend it, but my breath is still fresh, so maybe I should recommend it.

Hockey

Hockey is in full swing again. Kira is playing this year, but Sam isn't. (To me this means there's half as many games I have to avoid) He couldn't get permission from the Duluth Amateur Hockey Association to play for Hermantown, where he goes to school, (stupid) and he's really not that into it anymore anyway. They start checking in Pee Wees anyway so I think he would have hated that. Not very safety conscious. Last year when his team won the championship they were all so happy that they pig piled in the middle of the ice. Sam skated around and watched until the last player jumped on, and then he went and casually leaned on the pile for a few seconds just to be a part of it. That was enough.

Kira is playing for the neighborhood team again and Mitch is coaching so I'll probably have lots of good stories to tell because those kids are nuts. There is a boy named Dylan on her team, and he is super cute, super scrawny, and pretty wild and obnoxious. This year he's also a bit of a second grade ladies man. There was a new girl in the warming house the other day. She took off her helmet and she has a fuzzy face. She's really blond and she has kind of a peach fuzz beard. Dylan noticed right away and Mitch was thinking he was going to watch Dylan point out the beard, and then get beaten to a pulp by the girl, but Dylan went right up to her, softly rubbed her cheek and said, "This means you have lots of friends."

This one is gross

Our house smells like shit. The septic tank is seeping gas into the house because of all the snow on the roof. Apparently (and I don't understand the mechanics of it) it should go out the roof, and if it doesn't, it should go out the top of the tank outside, but that is also covered with a ton of snow and there's no seepage out there. So it is coming out a pipe in the basement and Mitch's quick fix is to put duct tape over the opening but if someone takes an especially hot shower (which we all do because the house is so cold because the FURNACE DOESN'T WORK) the tape BLOWS off. Mitch tells me that the top layer of sludge in the tank gets all heated up and the gas expands and has to go somewhere so it comes in my basement. How disgusting is that? It's just a smell, but I think it has psychoactive side effects. I normally love my house with all it's quirks and everything, but when it stinks like this, I want to slosh it with gas, light a match and walk away.

Yesterday, right after I took a scalding shower, the furnace guy called and said he could come over and look at the furnace. He'd be over in two minutes. I was mortified because I didn't want the furnace man to think the smell was from ME and wonder about my eating habits. I prodded Mitch to explain about the vent/hot shower problem, but he brushed it off like "who cares what this guy thinks, he's a dopey 20 year old kid who probably doesn't even notice." I wouldn't care what this kid thought of me in most situations, and I wouldn't bother to set him straight if he thought I was even as bad as a serial murderer, but to have him think that I could take a poop and fill an entire house with home-perm/public-gas-station-restroom-stench was too much so I had to go down there and act all casual and friendly, "Hi... How's it going? Do you smell that? Yeah, it's our septic tank, it's not venting properly. It's totally nothing I did, you know, personally..... okay? okay... so .... Lots of snow huh! Yeah, we'll be shoveling alot....." and then wander away. I don't want to be known down at Curtis Oil as "Stink Lady" or something worse.

Today I got Mitch to go out for coffee and we went to Home Depot and got a cap for the pipe opening and tomorrow morning I'm planning to dig out the outside vents. Hopefully that will fix it or I might end up going to jail for arson.

Things Kira thinks about when it's quiet in the car

Today, she said, "If I had to carry a rock around with me for the rest of my life, I would hope it was a really small rock."

Which got me thinking of things like this she's said in the past:

"What if there was a truck on the road that said 'wide load' on it, and you stopped it and all it had in it was one little hot dog?"

"If there was a gate that said, 'Keep Out' and it was made of french fries, what would happen if you ate it?"

"If I had a rock band, it would be called the Invaders, and We. Would. Rock."

Early Christmas

We had our Johnson family Solstice/Christmas celebration tonight. The kids had a FANTASTIC time. Sam got an R/C motorcycle that has a "gyrowheel" and he's ecstatic about it. Here's a conversation Sam and Mitch had about it on the way home in the car:

Sam - It was so nice of Grandma and Grandpa to get me the number one brand of remote control motorcycle!
Mitch - How do you know it's the number one brand?
Sam - Because it says so on the box.
Mitch - Don't you think all the boxes might say that?
Sam - No, I saw a commercial for this one and I know it was true because it was live.

Kira got a snow globe that she loves and is sure is handblown. She also got a very beautiful glass paper weight with dolphins in it. It's ironic that the klutziest, most hyper kid in the world is crazy for glass breakables. Seems kind of masochistic. They aren't broken yet. I'm giving them a week.

When we got home we discovered our roof vent is blocked because of the ridiculous amount of snow we are getting, so sewer gas is seeping out of one of the basement drains. Also our furnace stopped working, AGAIN so we got the wood stoves going, and and poured lots of water down the drain where the gas comes in, and now the house is warming up and there are just subtle undertones of the shit stench. Idyllic holiday night.

Here's Mitch while were opening presents. I might make it my Christmas card next year.