Oy...

My biscuit cutter broke.  The plastic handle snapped when I pressed down the last time I made biscuits.

Odysseus and I looked at a kitchen and restaurant supply store.  We looked at Walmart.  We looked at our local Big Lots. 

We didn't find one anywhere. 

Does no one make their own biscuits anymore? 

random ramblings

I have survived the first week of the kids' summer break.  We had the imp write a letter to his paternal grandparents and he's been reading quietly to himself on the couch every so often. 

Interestingly enough, I've started making him take a nap when the pixie does, and he no longer minds.  He's realized that he feels better afterwards. 

We took them to PetSmart, today.  The local one hosts "adoption days" every Saturday, where local humane societies bring in dogs and cats for people who won't bother to go to the actual buildings.  Today, there was a female boxer, seven months old.  Cute as a button and very, very friendly.  Her tongue went faster than her tail, and my kids each got a hand washing (and the pixie almost got her face washed).  There was a little dog with a stub tail, square head, short muzzle (like a boxer, sort of), and prick ears that was absolutely adorable.  The lady said he used to have a long, whippy tail, but he had a habit of chasing it...and then, he caught it.  And then it had to be amputated.

No, we didn't come home with a dog.  We'd have sooner come home with one of the utterly charming Chinese Water Dragon lizards.  There was one that kept jumping off of the lounging perch and flinging itself toward the glass when we stopped to look at them. 

The pixie wanted one of the cute little "fuzz-balls": a dwarf hamster.  I had to tell her that the kitties would want to eat it, the rat, the gerbil, and/or any guinea pigs, so we couldn't have one.

Shadow got herself tossed into the back room, yesterday.  She decided to scratch at the imp's bedroom door and yowl to be let in to walk all over him and poke him until he woke up to pet her, so she could curl up on his legs and go to sleep. 

Cricket has taken to waiting on the arm or back of the couch for me to walk past, then standing on her hind legs and wrapping the front paws around my arm and laying her head against me.

Yes, my cat has been giving me hugs.  And this is the dumb one, too.

I am back to working a bit more steadily on my current project--we now have a functioning printer.  I highly recommend Brother printers: the company has customer support throughout the life of the machine, and a one-year replacement warranty from purchase.  We got a refurbished model of the last printer that died (refurbished rather than new because this printer is no longer manufactured).  Our next printer, probably purchased ten or fifteen years from now, will also be a Brother. 

So, since getting the printer replaced on Tuesday and printing what I had written, and with not getting enough sleep (through my own fault), I've only added another 2K words to the current project.  I will be adding to that tonight, though.  And I do know where it's going, and how it's going to get there.  I am actually enjoying the crafting process quite a bit.  It's pretty different from my previous work--it's hard science sci fi (as well as a bit of sociology in parts of it). 

Suck it up, buttercup.

Okay.  It's sad that schools have to send out letters reminding graduating seniors that graduation is a formal occasion, and as such, different rules apply. 

This letter was brilliantly stated:

No bellies showing, keep "the girls" covered and supported, and make sure that nothing is so small that all your bits and pieces are hanging out.

Please remember as you select an outfit for the awards assembly that we don't want to be looking at 'sausage rolls' as Mrs. Elliot calls them. As you get dressed remember that you can't put 10 pounds of mud in a five-pound sack.

Of course, somebody who would have otherwise chosen to wear something that a) didn't fit, and b) was slutwear, took offense.   And wrote letters. 

The thing that gets me was the last thing in the article: "As 18-year-olds we’re all insecure and impressionable." 

Really.  Really? 

Oh, sweetheart, if you're still "insecure and impressionable" at eighteen, let me impress you with something.  You fail.  You fail at life.  You will fail at everything you do, because the real world doesn't fucking care about your feelings.  

Let me impress something else upon you: don't vote.  Ever.  Because you, and speshul snowflakes like you, are the ones destroying my country by insisting that anything that personally offends you needs to be banned, Constitution and Bill of Rights be damned.

Last, but not least...if you don't like how someone sees you, change something.  Either change yourself (style of dress, eating habits, exercise habits), or change that people see you by hiding in your room with a massive bag of Cheetos and never come out again.

'Cause honey?  NOBODY wants to see ten pounds of mud stuffed into a five pound sack. 

FFOT: early mornings

Early mornings.  Every fucking morning.  No later than six fucking thirty.  Weekdays, weekends, it doesn't fucking matter.  The kids are awake, and often fighting.  (which can, by the way, also fuck off--I am tired of the constant fighting)

I wish we lived where the kids could wake up, and go outside to play without having to wake us up. 

Early mornings can fuck the fuck off.  

Going to bed early tonight.

Yesterday was rough.  The kids were having issues behaving--I think because of allergies, but that didn't do me a whole lot of good--so I ended up spending too much time staying up.  Until midnight.  And I was up at 6:30 this morning.  The kids have showed themselves unwilling to behave with a DVD without parental supervision of a morning. 

So.  I'm going to bed early tonight. 

Supper tonight

1 bag frozen hash browns (or about four cups of leftover tater tots)
1 can Spam, cubed, or 1 lb chopped smoked sausage, or 1 lb bulk sausage, cooked.
1 green bell pepper (optional)
1 small onion, chopped

Brown the meat.  Then toss in the onion, and saute a bit.  Add the potatoes, and give it a good stir around.  Then add the bell pepper (you don't want to overcook it).  Stir constantly until it's all heated through, and as done toward crunchy as you want it, then season to taste (I used Tone's Six Pepper Blend tonight; last time it was Slap Yo' Mama Cajun seasoning). 

Serve hot, with hot sauce or salsa (if you want) or whatever you like, then top with shredded cheese.  Serves at least four.  More if you want to scramble eggs in it.

Busy weekend

The imp spent Saturday and Sunday nights with Grandma and Grandpa.  I wound up screwing my courage to the sticking place and trying a batch of cookies with my gluten free flour. 

They turned out...good.  A little gritty (not quite the right word, but the closest that fits) in texture, but good.  Got some shopping done for the family on Sunday, and got a large load of peppers--jalapenos and chilis--into the dehydrator. 

Yesterday, we wound up visiting my in-laws for a few hours (and finding out that they'd still been sick when they asked for an imp visit). 

I'm exhausted from the holiday weekend, and I'm taking the kids up to my mother's today, weather and roads permitting. 

And last two...

Unless I think of more...

This one is the imp's favorite video:



This is one of the pixie's many favorites:

More Muppets

OMFG.

Random ramblings

The kids had their last day of school, yesterday.  I think it starts back up a couple days before the fall semester starts for the university--or, at least, that's what they did last year. 

The imp earned a certificate for having the absolute best manners in the kindergarten class.  Considering that that's what I'd been hearing from all of the teachers and staff working with him all year, as well as all of the other kindergarten parents, I believe it.  I even see it, sometimes.  But it still strikes me as the "reward absolutely everybody so that nobody feels like a loser" mentality.  Granted, this is kindergarten, and the imp did show, according to his teacher, some of the most impressive improvement over the course of the year,* but still. 

The pixie brought home a huge packet of practice sheets for making sure she remembers what she learned in preschool, this year.  I'll probably do a few with her each week she's out, but I'm also going to work with the handwriting worksheet practice I found online last year...once we get the printer replaced.

Yeah, thank God that was still in warranty.  And we need to get a new surge protector for the one coming in.

I've got plans for both of them over the summer.  We're going to drill with the imp over math stuff, and see if we can't get him to doing better.  We're also going to work with both of them over being able to do stuff independently.  And I'm going to teach the imp to make his own peanut butter sandwiches.

I'm also planning on taking them up to my mother's one day per week and leaving them there for the day--sort of a parental hookey day.  My mother has been begging for such for a while.  It'll start when my mom and sister have recovered from whatever nasty virus laid them out for the past three weeks.

So, yesterday, the imp spiked a fever after school.  Don't know what was wrong.  He's done it before, and been over it the next morning...as was the case this morning.  But last night?  Yeah, he was miserable.  And then happy, because he had Shadow curled up on one side of him, and Cricket sprawled on her back (and showing her little white belly) on the other.  The cats love the imp very much, and it's only when he's not feeling his best that he's still enough to cuddle with.

I didn't get much writing done last week.  Only another 2K words.  I've been too busy.  I'll try to do better this week (total is 14.5K words).

Wow. Just...wow.

Look.  I understand, somewhat.  She's got a sickly kid and no money to run him to the doctor every time he comes down with something, her kid misses school, and it's "unexcused." 

I get that.  I got no problem with it. 

What I have a problem with it that public schools are so much more concerned about asses in seats to get them those precious government dollars that they say that kids must be in school, no matter what, if there isn't a doctor involved. 

Where my sympathy for the mother getting arrested for what amounts to three "unexcused absences"  fails is here: she's a substitute teacher, which means she understands just what bullshit the district is likely to get up to.  She sees, first-hand, the narrow-minded bureaucracy in action.  She should understand why sixty percent of teachers don't leave their own kids in public school, and should understand that public school = child abuse.

Why the fuck doesn't she homeschool?

Think the lesson sank in?

So.  A 21 year old twit took provocative selfies, posted them to a public forum (Facebook), then was shocked when an escort service copied her pics and used them to advertise their services.  Said twit was dressed like a hooker, and posed like a hooker, and was absolutely shocked  when men started calling her and offering to take the contract she looked like she was offering (accepting pay to leave after sex).

I tell my students every semester that everything they post on any social media site, even one with privacy protocols engaged, is public.  I have never posted naked pictures of my kids, have never posted provocative pictures of myself, and will not do either. 

Hell, where that's concerned, I don't even post pictures of my kids on my FB account, and don't post them here anymore, now that they're no longer kinda generic baby looking.

Any picture posted online is public.  Anything posted online is public. 

Sadly, that seems to be knowledge that many just do not possess. 

Ouch.

Apparently, I have a nerve invading one of the teeth I had filled this morning that isn't usually in a tooth.  I looked it up--usually, it runs through the jaw below the roots of the teeth.  Not many have it actually invading the lower teeth. 

The dentist doesn't numb that one before he starts work.  He numbed it tout suite as soon as I flinched--he's awesome. 

But yeah, a few extra complications in filling two of my teeth drove the price for getting six fillings (all on the left) up a bit, and made it longer before the numb wore off enough to be able to eat more than yogurt to get the naproxin to not eat my stomach.   

I'm certainly feeling it, now.  Or, I was.  I had a solid shot and a half of fairly decent, high-proof bourbon (bit of a comfort drink). 

I only have two more fillings to go on the bottom right.  That will be done in a bit under two weeks. 

But I am not up to deep thinking tonight. 

International law

"International law is that thing which the evil ignore and the righteous refuse to enforce." Barack Ben Canan, Exodus

When I was in eighth grade, my school had us spending one semester in shop and the other in home ec Consumer Sciences.  The latter was up in the high school, so glory of glories, I actually had access to books on my reading level for one semester of middle school, outside of the county library.  And the librarian (who'd been sneaking me a book from the high school, every now and then, when the idiot in my class reading Seuss books at fifth, sixth, and seventh grade wasn't there to be offended by someone who could read) didn't see a reason to ban me from checking out a new book every day.  I read, that year, The Thorn Birds, Dune, Wuthering Heights, and Exodus, among others. 

Leon Uris's Exodus has been one of my favorite books since then.  I re-read it often enough that my paperback started shedding pages like my cats do cat hair. 

I recently found a replacement at a used book store (in hardback!), and have been pecking at it again.  Exodus tells the story of the rebirth of Israel--and of the way the world treats the nation of Israel as the redheaded stepchild scapegoat that nobody likes. 

And shows how the application of international law is uneven, and always has been.

The uneven application of law is no law at all.  It is no more than just another stick with which those in power use to oppress those who aren't. 

Somehow, the Islamic nations are never slapped down for their blatant flouting of international law; somehow, Israel is constantly slapped down with it even when they don't break it.  Somehow, nations who never signed to nor abide by the Geneva conventions are given a pass, while civilized nations are crucified for harsh interrogation techniques that abide by the conventions.  

International law is bullshit.  The UN is not bullshit, but a clubhouse full of petty tyrants. 

I'm beginning to think, depending on the nation, the rule of law is bullshit, too, and that most nations are ruled by the same petty tyrants that infest the UN.

YAY!!!

I just sold three pens!!!  I'm a little sorry to see one of them go, but...I'm hoping that the person (in TAIWAN!!!) who bought the little green Arnold pen loves it as much as I do. 

I have almost broken even on my pens.  The other two listed would have me breaking even.  And I have three more to take pictures of, one to clean the paint off of the cap for, and then I will be turning a profit.

random ramblings

We're down to the last week of the kids' school, next week...and the first week of summer semester for Odysseus.  I think the class he's taking is advanced cost accounting. 

Next week, though...Monday, the imp will be participating in a kindergarten spelling bee on Monday, a track and field day on Tuesday, and a field trip to a skating rink on Wednesday.  I'm not sure what, if anything, is planned for Thursday; Friday, the last day, lets out at 11:00. 

I'm honestly not sure what-all the preschool is doing next week. 

The imp will be repeating kindergarten, though, next year.  Were he in a public school, he'd probably be ready for second grade; however, the curriculum is incredibly advanced, and I don't want him set up for failure by being passed with his classmates before he's ready.  And he's just not ready.  It's mostly a maturity thing, but not totally.  He just doesn't grasp a few of the concepts, and doesn't see the point in focusing and not half-assing the things he finds easy. 

I have a lot of work to do with him this summer, teaching him to focus on everything, not just what he finds interesting. 

I also have a lot of work to do with the pixie.  She has, for some reason, started putting everything into her mouth again.  I had to flip her mouth this morning because when I got up, she had a penny in her mouth.  I'm beginning to wonder if I'm gonna have to tape her mouth shut except for meals when I can't watch her every second. 

She's been cute recently, too--she's taken to picking up a kitty and wandering somewhere to sit down with them and snuggle them.  Cricket won't stay on her lap, but will walk all over her and shoulder rub and purr.  Shadow...half the time, Shadow flops over onto her side on the pixie's lap and luxuriates in the attention.  Another quarter of the time, she'll flop next to the pixie and luxuriate in the attention.  The rest of the time?  She hauls ass into the window to quiver as she watches the birdies.  

I've gotten another 5K words written on my current project, bringing total word count up to 12K words.  I have it all planned out--it's going to be in three, possibly four parts.  I started out writing on the second part (2.5K words), and then realized that I needed to back up and work on the first part (10K words).  I've been working fairly steadily, and I have about the first quarter to third done for part 1.  Part 2?  Maybe the first tenth.  Or so. 

If you're curious about the inspirational music, you can hear it on Amazon Prime, or you can hear it here.  

I'm fairly happy with the current state of the housework, nothing that needs the kids out from under foot/elbow to get done without the delays of "helping," so I'll probably spend the last three days I'll have three or four hours with no children around writing.  See if I can't double or triple my current word count (and maybe finish part 1).

One of the things slowing me down a bit is the lack of ability to print.  Yes, you read that right: our printer--the one we got less than a year ago to replace the one we bought less than a year before that--has died.  Again.  Doesn't even register that it's plugged in.  I've found a couple of possible repair places in the next big town over, so I'll call and find out if they can fix the printer(s).  I like printing to edit when I get stuck.  I can't print to edit.  And so, when I get stuck, I have to stop until I get enough sketched out in my draft book to really kick-start things again.

Not that I truly mind drafting out longhand.  I've got pens that I dearly love that I can use.  :)

I love my family.

My mom and sister, after having heard how I'm doing with wheat cut out of my diet (i.e., far fewer digestive problems, fewer problems losing weight and keeping it off, fewer headaches, and less brain fog), have done the same. 

It's working for them.  At least, it is right now.  I'm sure this won't last long. 

Because they're convinced it's not the wheat that's the problem.  They're convinced it's the eeevil GMOs.

My God, I wish it were possible to slap sense into them.

I have explained and explained and explained to them that humans have been genetically modifying their food sources for millennia.  The original wheat?  Had four grains that dropped off as soon as it was ripe.  Same with the original strain of corn.  And now, look at the grains we have: huge, fat, heavily bearing heads/ears.  Because we genetically modified it. 

Modern GMOs are little different, except in scale and time: instead of taking multiple thousands of generations to fix a trait, it can be inserted into the genetics of a plant, either by irradiating a seed, or by using a virus (sometimes both).  GMOs are not dangerous. 

What is dangerous is the junk science surrounding them.  What is dangerous is the overspraying of chemicals on fields of grains that have been modified to withstand the chemicals (seeps into the water tables and contaminates drinking water, which anyone would agree is incredibly bad).  What is dangerous is the pig-ignorance--the willful ignorance--cultivated by the twatwaffles that want the human race to die off and leave the bountiful earth all to herself.

Seriously.  The anti-GMO crowd is about as well-grounded in real, actual scientific understanding as the anti-vaccine crowd. 

DTFO, and go get some serious help.

I am a survivor of rape (during my childhood).  I do know that it can, and does, leave lasting psychological and spiritual damage.  I can empathize, to a certain point.

That point was pole-vaulted over when this whiny little speshul snowflake insisted that classical mythology is no longer suitable to be taught in a fucking literary humanities class because it hurt her little feelings. 

I read the myths in question.  I read them when I was about eight or nine years old, just a year or two past the point of the worst of the abuse, and before it had totally halted.  They never triggered any flashbacks.  There were things that did (like the idiot psychologists, forced visits over weekends with my abuser, running into my abuser unexpectedly in the town where we lived, etc.), but instead of whining about it, I pushed past it and dealt with it as best I could. 

Some people don't understand that these works of art have been a part of the curriculum for longer than their grandparents have been alive, and should not be removed due to the oversensitive sensibilities of one fucking person who does not have the right to never be offended by anything. 

Some people should drop out of college, go wrap themselves in cotton batting so tightly they can't move, see, or hear anything that might "trigger" them, and go live in their parents' closets. 

I'd even be willing to pay them to remove themselves from society, and from the gene pool.

Dogs

I have a friend who used to have a Pitt Bull/Boxer mix.  She was the least aggressive and sweetest dog I have ever met...so long as you weren't trying to get onto her property while her people weren't there, and even then, if she could restrain you without hurting you, she would.  Absolutely lovely dog. 

My aunts have a little dog, a Pomeranian mix.  That dog is the most hateful, spoiled rotten piece of shit I have ever met.  He's very pretty, and they say he's sweet most of the time, but I haven't seen it.  He goes out of his way to attempt to attack my kids.  Because, they say, he'd been abused by kids before they got him. 

I hate that little dog, and my hand is never far from my gun around him when we're outside, and if he's outside when we get there, I carry my kids into my mother's house, one at a time. 

People are fucking retarded when it comes to Pitt Bulls.  Most cannot distinguish large dog breeds, and anything they're scared of is a "pit bull"--whether it is, or whether it's a Lab or Retriever that's upset with them. 

The problem isn't with the breed.  The problem is with people: either the fuckwits who don't understand what dogs are saying with their body language, or with the fuckwits who take a lovely dog and turn it into a monster, either for illegal dog fighting or because they're felons and not allowed to own a gun, but want something big and threatening to try to hurt people or keep cops away from their home. 

Personally, I love the bigger dogs.  They usually naturally have a sweet temperament.  It's the little yappy ankle biters that are the nasty ones. 

That's why I love seeing stories like this one.  And there was a bit in it that I think should apply to all dogs living in town, not just a specific breed that has been wrongly demonized: "they have to go through behavioral assessment to determine whether or not they’re dangerous, they have to have insurance, and owners have to have a fence."  I would add that, should the dogs escape the fence, the owners get fined for each instance, with fines increasing with each time the dog gets out and becomes a nuisance. 

I like big dogs.  Or dogs that think like big dogs (like my Scotty dog).  I detest the nervous little rat dogs that bite with little to no provocation.  If any dog should be banned, it's dogs like that.