Tampilkan postingan dengan label totally clueless. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label totally clueless. Tampilkan semua postingan

Kamis, 04 Oktober 2012

as seen on TV and attempted at home

We have a new firepit area in the Back Forty.  Behold the ginormous pile of brush we're about to light up:


Impressive, no?  If you enlarge the photo you can admire the stacks of wood behind the brush pile.  TB worked his butt off this August clearing this area and digging that pit.

Mr. D's a fan of "reality TV."  Not Survivor or Real Housewives or  Idol.  He watches Duck Dynasty, Axe Men and Storage Wars.  Riveting stuff.  Anyway, he took copious notes of Axe Men for a few seasons and has a wealth of knowledge about logging.


When this giant dead tree called to him, Mr. D employed that knowledge.  Just like the guys on TV, he felled it.  It took days. 


The tree is no less impressive horizontal than it was when vertical.


His chainsaw and his back both got a good workout.  Plus there was manly sweating and swearing.


It must have been a mighty thing to see that tree begin to lean, tip and then crash.  Mr. D said he felt the ground vibrate when it landed.  I wonder what a tree that big would weigh. 

Stay tuned to see if Mr. D attempts ice road trucking or crab fishing anytime soon...

I, on the other hand, will stick to copying DIY home improvement jobs and recipes I see my amazing neighbor make on TV.  (Yeah, my neighbor lady is BACK on TV making more food!  She's a cooking rock star!)

Senin, 10 September 2012

competitive much?

 
 a hard-headed kid wearing a hard hat.

It's black belt candidate training again and this time Mr. G's testing for 1st degree and Mr. B's testing for 2nd degree.  One of the requirements for candidate training and the test is a 3-mile run.  Each week the candidates are supposed to beat the previous week's time.

Because I am a seasoned (read:  2nd degree black belt, yo) karate mama, I made my boys run every week all summer long to prepare.  Mr. B did so willingly.  He hates to run and isn't particularly fast, but he knows from experience that you're better off training ahead of time.  He ran gamely and consistently.  Mr. T ran with us because he's out for cross country this year and needed to train.  I ran to encourage them.  Mr. G?  Well, my baby was a huge baby about running.

Every week he'd whine and cry and complain.  He'd run a slow half mile and then walk the rest of the way home.  He kick rocks into the ditch and stop to look at ducks swimming in the creek.  I'm tired.  I'm too little.  It's hot out.  I'd yell at him to toughen up, of course, but that did no good.  I'd run slower and say things like, "Just run slow, buddy.  Pace yourself.  Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."  I began to doubt his ability to test.  After all, he just turned 8, one of the youngest kids to go through this.  Mr. T was almost 9 when he tested.  Maybe Mr. G needed more time.  Maybe we should wait until the next cycle. 

By the end of summer Mr. G still hadn't run a full 2 miles, so I figured one of two things would happen:
1.  He'd cry and whine and dog it the entire 3 miles at training, proving to me that he was, in fact, too young to be out there.
or
2.  He'd tap into his competitive spirit and try to beat all the kids his age, amazing me and making Team Testosterone look good and live up to our tribe's established dojo cred.

I was hoping hard for #2.  I confess, my ego was on the line.

After some internal debate, I opted NOT to run with the boys.  I'm not that fast of a runner and maybe, just maybe, if I wasn't running, Mr. G would run better.  I knew Mr. B would be fine.

We drove the kids to the course and I parked at the final corner before the finish line with another seasoned karate mama.  We hung out and chatted while we waited for the runners to come down the stretch.  After a while, the first runners appeared.  Predictably it was Mr. H, an adult 2nd degree candidate who has trained hard all summer for this run and is in great shape, and Mr. P, a 3rd degree candidate who has the advantage of youth on his side since he's 16.  On their tail was Mr. G.  The kid buzzed past me grinning and happy.  

Well.

The voice of reason assured me he'd slow down during the 2nd lap and it would hit him, but still, a great start.  Mr. B came past,  #7 in the pack of 20 runners and right on pace with my expectations.  He was doing fine and not about to quit.

The second lap around I was gobsmacked to see Mr. G right on Mr. H's tail, coming in a solid second place in the run.  No freaking way.  He barely ran a MILE all summer and here he is sweeping past on the end of his third mile like no big deal.  That little knucklehead!

Mr. B kept up his steady pace and finished fifth.

After the last of the runners passed us, we joined the kids at the finish line and I asked what Mr. G's time had been.  Just shy of 24 minutes.  Son of a gun.  Not only did he dig into his deep competitive nature, but he chose grown men with legs twice as long as his adversaries.  

Mr. G and Mr. B, more fleet of feet than your average penguin.
 
Way to go Mr. B and Mr. G--you made your karate mama wicked proud.

Rabu, 23 Juni 2010

Globs! Taking over the world!

Many things about our local school district fail to inspire my confidence. In particular, I've had a very verbal and well-documented (by me!) beef with the "technology coordinator." (See this post for a little taste of the ongoing debacle.) This woman, who I shall call "The Hack," has wasted tens of thousands of taxpayer dollars on fixing outdated computers (10 years and older!). She's in over her head and far behind in knowledge for her job, yet no one seems in any hurry to get rid of her. That's seniority and union protection working, I guess. If I was her boss, I'd demand she get training or replace her. Crazy idea, huh? But I hear there are some qualified people looking for work... I find it unbelievable that someone with such a deplorable skill set has such an important job. But perhaps our school district runs like Congress (haha).

Imagine my guffaws this morning whilst reading The Hack's letter enclosed in the district's newsletter--mailed to every. single. resident. in. our. district. This plea for donations for the "Happyland School District Technology Support Fund" began like this:

"iPods! Twitter! Globs! UTube! Nings! Facebook! Netbooks! Google! Technology is all around us."

Yes, that is verbatim what she wrote. I'll spare you the rest of her error-ridden correspondence, except to say that it'll be a cold day in Hell before I consider supporting The Hack's technology plan.

I'm going to hide in my basement--safe from the Globs taking over the world--and the giant UTubes that may or may not suck my brains out, rendering me a quivering wreck.

Sheesh.


Kamis, 17 Juni 2010

stumped

Team Testosterone loves to ask questions--and sometimes the answers aren't simple. "What if you're really bad your whole life but then you're good at the very end and ask Jesus into your heart. Do you get to go to heaven?" "What happens to our brains and our memories when we die?" "Where do babies come from?" "Okay, so how do the babies get in there?"

A good pairing of intelligence, imagination and thoughtful pauses always leads me to a good answer. Until yesterday.

Scene: In the Momvan en route to summer reading program

Mr. B: So how do clams have babies?


Reader, you get Super Mega Bonus Points if you can answer that without Google.