Sounds Like an Indictment

I saw this at the Downtown Farmer's Market this morning, and I just don't think Touched By Jane is a good name for a store front.

There were quite a few good bands down there, though. Charlotte was impressed with this bluegrass band. Check out the homemade bass. 

As I was driving home, I had the thought that if I had my own rock band, I'd want to call it Captain Smiley and the Halfbacks, and we'd only do cover songs from 1976. 

Then I realized that I'd have to be a solo artist, because no one else would want to be in that band.

Strange Stuff in Children's Books: I Hear What You Did There

We brought home some books from the library today, and I was surprised to see a book written by Weird Al Yankovic in our stack. I didn't know Weird Al wrote children's literature.

Here's the plot line provided by Amazon.com, "Eight-year-old Billy gives a flamboyant show-and-tell presentation, reciting for the class and his hapless teacher Mrs. Krupp, all the professions he has in mind for his future. From master snail trainer to dinosaur-dusting museum curator, the possibilities he imagines are seemingly endless..." -- Seira Wilson

Check out the last occupation in the third line:

The book's description continues, "... Billy’s carefree enthusiasm is contagious, and the bubbling rhythm of When I Grow Up makes it a lively read-aloud."-- Seira Wilson, Amazon.com

I don't think Seira Wilson really read this book out loud. 

Story Material: Buyer's Remorse

Every once in awhile I'll buy a t-shirt from TeeFury to give as a gift. It's a fun clothing site that offers a "Limited Edition Shirt Every Day". A couple of years ago I was sucked into their "grab bag" offer:

"WHAT'S THE GRAB BAG? RANDOM T-SHIRT FOR $7 (Plus Shipping) Seven dollars will get you a random t-shirt in the size you specify. You can order up to 12 units per size while supplies last.

OVER 70 POSSIBLE DESIGNS! The random shirt lot comes from the designs we have printed since the last Grab Bag in April including those in TFX2 battles. We also have a random mix of designs left over from previous quarters from undelivered items or other scenarios. Please check our gallery to see the potential designs." TeeFury.com

I thought, "How can I lose? All the shirts they sell are all pretty cool." Then this is what I got in the mail.

"Over 70 possible designs"? I think this shirt is sporting all 70 at once, and its rectangle layout is horrible. If I do have a distinct clothing style, then this shirt is about as far as you could get from it. "Grab Bag"? They should have called it "We-couldn't-sell-this-shirt-to-anyone-who-had-actually-seen-it, so-we-screwed-you-over Bag", and been honest about it. 

I hate this shirt. But here's the stupid part. I wear it all the time! I wore it yesterday when I mowed the lawn. See, I also hate when I get suckered into buying something while surfing the Internet (eBay should have a Breathalyzer lock), so I try to make the best of any dumb purchase I make. I don't wear this shirt in public, but I do wear it when I grill with charcoal, clean the garage, work on the Bug, take care of Charlotte when she's sick and might puke on me, make a bunch of bacon and might get splattered, re-stain the deck, or anytime I'm working with corrosive chemicals. 

I wear this stupid thing so much that I'm afraid that Charlotte might begin to think that this is my style. So I'm trying to kill this shirt. But I can't! The fabric is too durable. It keeps coming out of the dryer yelling, "Ha Ha! I live to fight another day! So screw you, Brent!"

Man, I hate this shirt. 

I'll Tell You Why I Do Like Mondays

This summer we take Charlotte to day care on Mondays. It gives Daphne and I a chance to work on personal projects, catch an afternoon movie, or enjoy a slower paced lunch with an adult conversation. I might feel guilty about leaving Char at someone else's house on my vacation day, but Charlotte loves our day care provider as much as she loves anyone in our family.

This week Daphne and I went downtown to look around West End Architectural Salvage - a store that is not small child friendly. But before we went shopping, I suggested we stop by the new hot dog place, Hotshots. I had skipped breakfast, and my idea was to grab a dog, go shopping for an hour or two, and then get lunch at Americana.

Here's the Hotshots menu:

Even though I want to own a 70's Honda CB motorcycle (last item on the menu), I'm a sucker for a chili dog, so I went with the Steve McQueen:

Daphne chose the Valentino Rossi:

I knew my idea of eating twice downtown wasn't going to work as soon as our hot dogs arrived. The hot dog itself isn't small, but once you add all the toppings and the bun, you know you aren't walking out of Hotshots hungry. We switched baskets for a couple of bites, and I can tell you that at least two of the dogs offered are really good. Located across the street from the Pappajohn Sculpture Park, this is where I'm getting my meal for our next picnic over at that park.

After shopping, we went to Zombie Burger for ice cream. We decided to share a Carrot Cake shake. The shake tasted like a carrot cake, but the pieces of carrot cake mix were really hard to suck through a straw, and we were both underwhelmed with the size of the cup. I didn't take a picture, but I almost felt like I'd need to use the "micro" setting if I did.

We weren't they only ones having fun and eating like Zombies. Char got to go to a pool, and afterwards she was so worn out and hungry that she was actually eating in her sleep. Here's some "action pictures" taken at a stop light.

Quite the multi-tasker. 

Tales from Commercial Cookbooks: Sausage Party Edition

Here's Good Housekeeping's Ten P.M. Cook Book from 1958.

There are seven recipe sections in this cook book, but this is the section that caught my attention.

If I was invited to this gathering, this dish might make me think twice about sticking around past ten p.m.

Frankly, I'd be worried that this party was supposed to be a sleepover.

Just to prove that I didn't pull these images from different cook books.

Cat Bed Update

I finally dried my eyes and took a picture of Char's new "Big Girl Bed". I have to remind myself that the older Charlotte gets, the more fun she is. Really, this new piece of furniture should be cause for celebration.

The transition from crib to big girl bed has not been seamless. Like a lot of people who have been behind bars for a while, Char's new found freedom can be a bit much for her. I can testify that her room is much messier after "nap time" than it was before. And actual bedtime as compared to "Goodnight Charlotte" time has about a 45-minute delay, but she'll figure it out.

The bed's great for Char, but every door with a pink oval slides open. Char thinks it's funny to slide a door shut with Bobo trapped inside. So far, the only way to get Charlotte to see that this isn't funny is to threaten her, "I'm just gonna take him outside and give him to another little girl who won't be mean to him." The idea of another girl even holding Bobo did the trick, and we filled the "hiding places" with buddies and blankets as another safe guard. But it's not like the cats don't play in the furniture on their own.

That also doesn't mean our cat challenges are over. I'm constantly worried Char will pull a Lennie, as in Of Mice and Men. Here are some sentences recently spoken/ yelled at our house.

"Char! You can't pick him up by his back leg!"
"Don't slap his body. You have to pet gently."
"He can't breathe when you do that."
"No. Earl is not your pillow."
"You cannot carry kitties by their necks!"
"Charlotte! He was sleeping! Nobody wakes you up by blowing a whistle in your ear."
"Oh, honey, I know that bite hurts, but he was trying to tell you, 'No, I don't want my head folded over like that'".

For everyone's' sake, I hope she figures this out, too.

Tales from Commercial Cookbooks: Innuendo Edition

"These are my Candle Salads. I hope you all like them (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)."

This recipe (scanned from the pages of a Penzeys Spices catalog) would have gotten me kicked out of my 8th grade home economics class for sure.

Everything from the "wax" on the "candles", the opening quote of the article, to her husband's name (see caption) cracks me up. Sorry Laurel, maybe my mind is still stuck in middle school...

My friends don't seem to believe me, but I keep telling them that reading recipes can be really funny.

Things to do

I found this note on the sidewalk near our house. I think it's written by one of these kids.

Man, the local playground is getting tougher and tougher.

Growing Pains

When Daphne's mom, Deb, was pregnant, she and her husband were short on money. They found a crib in a back alley behind their house waiting to be picked up by the garbageman.

They freshened it up with some paint, and Deb put on a few animal decals to make it look more modern. Thirty some years later, I found myself doing the same thing to the same crib. I loved the thought of Char sleeping in her mom's and aunt's bed; I just didn't put on any stickers. I did make sure the side rail could not slide down, and Deb and Aunt Phadrea quilted the infant bumpers for the crib.

Good Lord, she looked so small the first time we placed her in her crib.

But she grew bigger.

And bigger.

And then a couple of days ago Charlotte figured out how to safely climb out of her crib and get back in again. That pretty much made the crib bars useless. It was time to buy her a "big girl" bed.

Today was the last day I will ever wake my little girl up from a nap in her crib. I won't ever again sneak into her room and see this:

 

I'll post some pictures of her new bed as soon as I wipe the tears from my eyes. Maybe that sounds overly-dramatic, but it's true.

Watching your child grow up is an experience mixed with with pride and sadness. It's like Charlotte's growing too big for me to hold her, but I don't want her to stop needing me to hold her.

Cat Adoption and Remembering Old Friends

When my cat Brody passed away during spring break this year I was heart broken, but I knew he wouldn't be the last cat I would live with. Two weeks ago the Monsons went to the Animal Rescue League to "look". Maybe adults can go to the ARL just to "look" and leave without adopting, but I don't think very many families with little children leave the ARL empty handed. I know we didn't.

Since this wasn't our first ARL rodeo, I had a few requirements.

1) We were not going to the ARL to rescue a cat. We were going to adopt a cat for Charlotte. There's a difference. We've rescued old cats who weren't probably going to another home. Our first cat Chip was nine when we rescued him. But simple math dictates that old cats do not live as long as younger ones. Few live to be 20 like my old cat Snoopy. He was awesome, and I wanted a feline friendship for Charlotte that would have a good chance of lasting until she left home for college, too.

2) If possible, we were going home with two cats. In some countries it's illegal to adopt only one animal: it's seen as cruelty to sentence an animal to a life of solitary confinement. I think that viewpoint is a bit extreme, but I know two cats can be more content than one. I have also found that if you have three cats at the same time, then one is always left out during napping and playtime.

3) If we were to come home with two cats, they would have to be males. We know an old vet who said he tried for years to get female cats to live in harmony, and he couldn't do it. He told us he finally started listening to his patients' owners, and he discovered that neutered males will always (eventually) get along.  We have had four males cats in the last decade (not at the same time - remember the old cat rule), and eventually the boys all came to an understanding.

4) We were going to the ARL with an open mind. The first time I went with Daphne to really adopt an animal - we were days from moving into our first house - we went looking for the biggest dog Daphne could find. Daphne was raised to believe it's not a real dog if you have to bend over very far to pet it. Instead, we came home with the aforementioned Chip. The cat had cried out, and even though she had no experience with cats, Daphne fell in love with the old guy (kinda like me). You just don't know who you're going to fall for at the ARL.

At first I had hopes for the Bonded Buddies program: two animals who have already bonded must be adopted together at a reduced fee. But none of the pairs met my above requirements. So, we went into a "meet and greet" room, and the volunteers brought us male cats to meet. We met a lot adult cats (three years old or under), but none of them could have cared less for Charlotte. To be fair, Char's a rambunctious child, and the cats are in a less than ideal situation, but I was looking for a connection.

Even through Daphne had no interest in one, we tried a kitten. "Lightening" was brought in, and he danced, hopped, leap, sprinted, abruptly stopped, rolled across the floor, and then repeated himself. BUT, he paid attention to Char. When she wiggled her fingers at him, he smelled them. When she tried to pick him up, he didn't run away. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner.

Here's the newly named "Bobo" sleeping in my ratty old recliner chair:

BUT, one of the cats we "interviewed" was billed as a hugger. Daphne has missed her sleeping buddy Theo for over a year now, and a cat that puts both arms around your neck and purrs... seriously. Although he paid no attention to Charlotte, he was all over Daphne when we met him.

After the decision was made to adopt the kitten, I asked Daph if she wanted to meet the hugger again. He was only three years old, and when he met Daphne a second time he hugged her again, but harder. I could hear his purr from across the room. Daphne teared up a bit, and that was that.

Here's Earl:

We had to keep the boys separated for awhile, but kittens are very fast, and by the second day they met in the hallway. It didn't take long for them to become Monson Bonded Buddies.

Now, I had nothing to do with the adoption of Earl. He was Daphne's choice - without a doubt. Earl has proven to be true to his first impression. He is a lover, and he hugs you as long as you let him. He's not Theo, but he fills a huge gap for Daphne very nicely.

But let's get back to my old cat, Snoopy. Earl looks so much like him, it's like I got a great friend back, too.

Earl:

Snoppy (circa 1985):

The similarity is kind of spooky, but I'm not complaining.

Eggo Mini Waffles: So Many Possibilities

When I was writing about "kid friendly" foods yesterday, I mentioned Eggo Mini Waffles. I wrote, "Don't get me started". But it was too late, I got started.

 

These little circles of love waffles are awesome! Prepared in the toaster, they're great for a simple breakfast. But think outside of the box. The waffles themselves are not sweet, so you can treat them like bread. They makes great PB&J sandwiches. Throw in a banana slice, a marshmallow, and make Elvis proud. If you brown them in a pan with a teaspoon of butter and add some squares of American cheese, you can make some really cool grilled cheese sliders. I tried this last night for the first time.

 

They were better than I hoped.

Also, you can squeeze a scoop of ice cream between two toasted waffles, and your summer afternoon snack is all set. While frozen you can cut them up into quarters, toss them with some cooking spray and cinnamon sugar, and toast them in the oven until crispy. You'll have some great croutons for a snack mix or an ice cream topping.

They'd also be great for your next S'more adventure. Daphne thinks Ghirardelli chocolate squares would work nicely.

I think it's time to get your waffle on!

Father's Day 2013

Last year I wrote a list of lessons I had learned from being a father of a one-year-old. This year I thought I'd try it again with a few lessons a two-year-old daughter can teach her dad.

If you take Dad's car key swimming with you in the pool, it will still work when he dries it off. (I guess these car keys are somewhat waterproof.)

Vizio TV remotes are not waterproof, and they will not work when you take them out of the washing machine. But they can be saved if they "sleep" overnight in a bag of rice.

Restaurants often serve kid-sized drinks, but they always come with adult-sized straws. These straws all but guarantee a spilled drink, a mouth injury, or both.  A pocket knife with a scissors and a little discretion go a long way in preventing tall straw drama.

Toast is yucky.

Toast cut into cute shapes is the most delicious thing in the world.

You should always use classic literary characters when you name the kitty you saved from the Animal Rescue League.

Here's Charlotte's new kitty, Bobo (more on him later).

Refrigerator doors are really art galleries.

If you haven't eaten "kid's food" in awhile, you should. Bust open a can of Spaghettios, and you'll see what I mean. And Alpha-Bits? Or Teddy Grahams? Don't even get me started on Eggo Mini Waffles.

And lastly, you know all those old, tired clichés you hear about daddies and their daughters?

They are all true.

Seeing the (Brake) Light

After Charlotte goes to bed, I can't always work on my Bug. A lot of the time I'm waiting for car parts to come up for sale, or I'm waiting for car parts to arrive in the mail. During these lulls in automotive repair, I turn my attention to the other projects lurking in my garage. For instance, I have a few bicycles that I like to work on.

Two years ago I spotted this abandoned Schwinn bicycle leaning against a dumpster while we were driving home from the Christmas service at our church . After we got Char to bed, I drove back and snagged it. I considered it an Xmas present from the junk gods. (Notice the seat - I'll talk about it later.)

 I have fun working on my "free" bike, and I have cleaned and polished every nook and cranny on it. "Cranny" is a weird word. Do you ever use it on its own?

"Hey, where did I put that wrench?"
"I think you left it in your cranny."
"I left it in my what?"

Since the above photo was taken, I've also replaced the brake and shifter cables, and I switched over to a 105 Shimano brake set I scored off of Ebay. Soon I plan to redo the bar tape (again) and upgrade the brake levers.

Yesterday I took Charlotte grocery shopping, and afterwards she really wanted to go to the "money store" - which is what she calls "Dollar Tree". As I've said before, I always agree to shopping at the money store because all toys for toddlers are doomed to be broken, so why not buy toys with a death sentence for a dollar instead of fifty dollars? Also, I like to challenge myself to see I can find something that I can use in a creative way.

I found this:

This bracelet has three light modes, and that's exactly the same amount of modes on expensive back bike lights. Turns out the bracelet fits perfectly behind my bike's seat. The rubber wrist band that connects to the plastic light works really well at keeping the light snug against the frame without damaging the paint.

With the help of Dollar General Super Glue, I cemented the rubber wrist band inside the plasic light. Now the bracelet won't pop off the bike when I drive over bumps.

Sure, the glue means the bracelet is permanently on my bike, but when the batteries wear out, I can easily cut the band off.

So, how does it look?

 

All I need is some rave music, and I'm all set.

 

Doot, doot, doot, doot...