Weird Charms

Saturday we had two items on our agenda: visit the Verizon store to look at cell phones and see the movie Inkheart. Critter will be moving to our wireless plan next month and to say that she is looking forward to a new phone is an understatement.

The Verizon store was packed and my claustrophobia set in immediately. I did my best to push it aside and browsed the twenty models that they had, figuring out that, really, none of them are good for my fat fingers. After thirty minutes trying in vain to write simple text messages, my thumbs froze up and refused to continue. We did find a few models that might work between the three of us but futher research is definitely warranted. I had too many people in the store tell me that they had the model I was currently handling and they hated it. Critter texted her friends and they would report the same about a different model. It seems everybody hates something about their existing phone.

We gave up and drove across the street to the mall and bought our tickets for the movie. The mall has been remodeled and has a new 20-screen theater as well as several new restaurants. CrafterKat left us in the food court to buy some sushi.


Critter, fingering the dangling beaded charm on her existing phone: Omigosh! I forgot to see if the [Verizon] enV phone had a place to hang charms from!

Me, straight-faced: Hmmmm. Well, you might have to keep your existing phone then.

Critter, shocked: NO! No. Nooooo. No. (pause) No. Noooooowah. (pause). No. And....No.


Inkheart was a fabulous movie and perfect for a lazy afternoon. When we finished, I bought Critter some pizza while CrafterKat visited the ATM. She had a huge slice of pizza which took two hands to manage.


Me: You know, I thought you wouldn't want pizza since you ate that all the time while the school cafeteria was being remodeled.

Critter: I always like pizza.

Me, trying to impart something educational into our dining experience: You know, in New York, people eat their pizza by folding it in half so they can eat it with one hand.

Critter, taking another bite: Well, at school, I would eat the pizza with a knife and fork. And then the kids would call me weird. And then I tried folding it in half. And the kids would call me weird. And then I would eat the toppings off of the pizza first and then eat the crust. And the kids would call me weird. So then I would eat it with both hands like them. And then I told them that that way was weird.

Me: Well, I'm glad you like the pizza.

Critter, taking another bite: I like eating pizza because it makes my nose scrunch up real cute when I eat it.


I had to laugh. It was really cute.

You Remind Me Of The Babe

You remind me of the babe
What babe?
The babe with the power
What power?
The power of voodoo
Who do?
You do
Do what?
Remind me of the babe

--David Bowe as The Goblin King, Labyrnth

November has been a long, long month. Things seem to have gone in circles and I think we've finally broken the cycle.



Critter got sick in October with an enlarged lymph node. Not too worry, the bump on her neck went down pretty quickly but it took two trips to the doctor and a prescription of antibiotics to do it. And just when we thought we had it beat, November rolled in with another bout of it.



This time, though, the doctor said to wait it out--drink fluids, eat right, sleep lots. We tried that for a week with no sign of the lump going down. And now it hurt so much that Critter was having a hard time sleeping. After the third night of practically no sleep, the doctor finally prescribed some antibiotics. This time, though, it didn't seem to help. A trip to the Emergency Room got her a different prescription. A trip to the Ear Nose Throat doc got her a third, as well as more blood drawn and CT scan. It's Thanksgiving and she's finally finishing up her fourth set of antibiotics. One more doctor's appointment next week and I think we'll be finally over it.



Last weekend was the first that all three of us felt good enough to go out for some fun. Sunday morning we hopped in the Tink Tank and drove downtown to a hole-in-the-wall donut shop (pun intended) called VooDoo Donuts. Donuts come in a variety of flavors and, er, shapes... You can even have your wedding performed there!



CrafterKat picked out her two favorites coated with kool-aid and tang. I picked a pumpkin spice filled donut, frosted like a football (later examination showed it was supposed to be a pumpkin--it honestly didn't look like that to me, though). And Critter? She went for the Big Daddy, a dinner plate sized glazed donut.



We took our pink box up the street and stopped at Stumptown Coffee. As a non-coffee drinker (I know...blasphemy), this was my first adventure here. CrafterKat loves their Americano drink; Critter had a mocha thingy (I dunno...). We sat in the back on little couches next to the DJ record player mixing section.



After we arrived, a hip Portlander stopped by our table, depositing his jacket and a Stumptown coffee mug on the glass table top. "Shhhh," he warned, and pulled out a Starbucks coffee and poured it into the mug. "Don't tell anyone." We laughed and watched him leave to check for his friend.



He shook his head, smiling, when he returned. "Well, aren't you ready? You've got your VooDoo dounuts. Your Stumptown coffee. What's next? Shots?"



We laughed. He turned to Critter who was starting her giant glazed donut. "What are you, twelve? I'll bet you've got the flask hidden in your jacket..."


Normally, I would have taken pictures of this whole exchange (the funky voodoo and Elvis decorations at the donut shop, the DJ mixing table at Stumptown) but my camera died in early November. More like, fried.


Best Buy said I could return the camera if I had the original receipt. I didn't. Which didn't make me a Happy Camper. But guess what? Best Buy will print up a new receipt for you and, after a few hours rounding up the rest of the camera, I was able to take it in to the Geek Squad for repair.


Geek Squad sniffed the camera. I'm not joking. "Smells like something burned inside," he told me. And he sniffed again. Nose hairs and all. At this point, I was wondering if I would have to douse the whole thing in alcohol after it was working again. "No problem, this is totally covered." With snot, I thought.


He shipped the camera up to Seattle for replacement parts and service, promising that it would be ready in about two weeks, probably before Thanksgiving, even. Sunday, when we returned from downtown, Geek Squad called. "Yeah, we weren't able to get replacement parts. You'll have to come in and pick out a new camera."


"Um... Any camera?" I asked.


"Well, something comparable."


"And if Best Buy doesn't have something comparable?"


"Well, then you'll get an upgrade. Just talk to the camera department people. They can help you find something."


I took my HP camera box into Best Buy, bypassed the camera guy, and looked for the 10 Megapixel cameras. My 2006 camera had that, and a 3x zoom, plus a lot of "scene selection" choices when shooting (e.g. beach, snow, nightlife, portrait, landscape, etc.). I finally found the camera that had these features and seemed sturdy enough that it didn't feel like it would fall apart on me after six months.


So our circle is all healed--Critter is feeling a whole lot better, we've got a new digital toy to play with, and we've sampled some of Portland's best (if not weirdest...).


Take care and Happy Thanksgiving!


~ The CrafterGeek Family

Noble Software

Back in 2000 when I first began working for the Evil PXE, I was asked to buy some entertainment software for the people who live and work on campus. I purchased some Hoyle games, a family tree tracker, and software to produce flyers, greeting cards, etc. It's been eight years now, and the software just isn't keeping up. We asked our intern, BMW Aficionado, to look online for the latest version of Print Master.

"We've got Print Master 12," I told him. "I'm sure they're up to 20 or so, by now."

He checked online and found that Broderbund had indeed updated the title. "They've got Print Master Gold 18 and Print Master Platinum 18," he reported.

Evil PXE smirked. "What? Are they doing the Print Master Heavy Metals series? Can you get Print Master Tungsten?"

BMW Aficionado grinned. "The next version is Print Master Noble Gases."

On The Map, Next To State Of Confusion

At work my techie coworkers and I have developed a timeline for the campus to move forward with different computer updates. Last summer we updated all school computers to using Internet Explorer 7. Summer of 2008 will see us moving to Office 2007. In January of 2009 we'll begin installing Windows Vista. For now, we are in a holding pattern--running Windows XP updates and keeping our fingers crossed.

Which brings us to Random Work Conversation #34 (after turning on a setting which we thought had turned off over the summer).

Evil PXE to Web Programmer: Hey, the script didn't run.

Web Programmer (who I promise I'll name at some point...): It didn't?

Evil PXE, supressing a chuckle and adopting a stern voice: Damn JewelGeek and her updates! It's put the computers in a state of unworkency!

The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same

Seems like nothing and something have happened in the past few weeks. In my mind, I’ve been singing Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Put Your Records On” and grooving out to a bunch of high school favorites.

Three little birds, sat on my window.
And they told me I don't need to worry.
Summer came like cinnamon
So sweet,
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.

Maybe sometimes, we've got it wrong, but it's alright
The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same
Oh, don't you hesitate.

Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

The Evil PXE broke down and purchased a Zune, Microsoft’s version of the iPod. He brought in the sleek device with a mammoth color screen and announced it would hold 7500 songs on its 30 GB hard drive. He plopped down a small duffel bag of CDs, plugged in some discarded speakers, and his high school favorites came pouring forth. He spent the rest of the day copying over his Ozzy and hair band CDs. The e-mail conversation below pretty much sums up my feelings:

From: JewelGeek
Sent: Tuesday, March 6
To: CrafterKat
Subject: Zune!

Okay. It’s official. I want one.

From: CrafterKat
Sent: Tuesday, March 6
To: JewelGeek
Subject: Re:Zune!

Gizmo Geek.
Go for it!

That night I went to Costco and picked one up. The next day I was armed with a canvas tote bag of CDs to copy to the Millennium version of the Walkman. The Evil PXE showed up with a new, larger duffel bag. We’d hold up a CD case of Billy Joel or Pet Shop Boys or Tears For Fears and ooh and ahhh. As soon as the Evil PXE put a CD in to copy, it would begin playing the first track. The rest of the day was spent shuffling one- and two-hit wonders around.

By day three, the Evil PXE was down to one large duffel bag. “I’m going to have to use the hand truck to bring it up,” he told me. When I came back from lunch, it was sitting beside my desk. “I stuffed that baby full up. I could actually hear some of the cases cracking from the weight.”

“Did you get a handtruck?”

He shook his head. “Too embarrassed… I just grabbed it and plowed up the stairs. I’ve just now caught my breath.”

I’ve not known anyone with as large a CD collection as his. Apparently he went and found all the CDs of his vinyl favorites when he was in his 20s and has kept on going. Everything from Ace of Base to Billy Squier to Depeche Mode. Oldies from the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Foreigner and the Steve Miller Band. One Hit Wonders (well, he’d claim more) from Information Society, Kraftwerk, Talk Talk, and The Cranberries. Plus groups I’d never heard of like Temple of the Dog, Xymox, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Stormtroopers of Death.

By Friday of last week most of the CDs CrafterKat and I own had been copied to our new Zune. I left early that day and drove downtown to get my hair styled at a posh shop in CrafterKat’s building.

My first Zune test.

I scrolled through the Zune screens, found the Pet Shop Boys, and popped in my little ear phones. I walked down the street in beat with the drum machine, drowning out the sounds of the city. It felt like I was 17, walking home from school with my beloved Walkman. I was in so much awe I actually forgot to put money in the parking meter (don’t worry, I did correct this!).

I’ve been looking forward to this appointment for almost a month. CrafterKat has been extremely patient with my hair woes; in short, I’ve not had a haircut I’ve been happy with for well over a year. My hair has a bit of a natural wave on the very ends but otherwise is a straight mess that grows very quickly and often blocks my vision. My bangs get into my eyes and the natural curl that looks so cute coming out of the steamy shower is one long straight heap in a few short hours. It’s too thick or too short to hold behind my ear, and not quite long enough to hold back with clippies. Keep my hair too long and the little waves at the tips fan out over my glasses; too short, the curls disappear and I resemble the oldest Partridge boy.

Scrap Maven and Huggy Girl insisted that I go to The Bob Shop downtown and see Miss T. Ever watch those cooking shows on the Food Channel with the glamorous, trendy chefs who pull together an extravagant, yet comfort-food, meal in under an hour? You feel as if you can easily prepare that same dish when you get home. And in doing so, your life will easily be transformed into something that is equally trendy and extravagant.

Miss T. definitely knows her stuff. She evened out my hair color (I like being a red head) and snipped away all of the split ends. But try as I might explain my hair's natural tendencies, she didn’t quite get the curl/wavey/not wavey bit with my hair. Perhaps she was overly optimistic that the straight-ish hair I entered the salon with was just a one-time abnormality and I would instantly revert back to the wet curls she saw after washing away the hair dyes. She applied gels and specialized dryers to my wet head and informed me, quite pleasantly, that I should come back in eight weeks to re-do my color. I love the color but at over $100 a pop, I’m not sure she’ll see me again quite that often.

Now, before I hurt anyone’s feelings, she did do a marvelous job. I know that haircuts and coloring cost a lot and she is very talented at what she does. But I was looking for a new style, too, and I think I came up short. Or long. I’m not sure. She admitted she took off but one inch from the length--I tend to grow it out that much in about a week (this is only a slight exaggeration). But the cut I have now seems not very different from what I’ve had over the past five years of my life. And the funky wave is still there.

Blue as the sky, sunburnt and lonely,
Sipping tea in the bar by the roadside,
(just relax, just relax)
Don't you let those other boys fool you,
Got to love that afro hair do.

CrafterKat likes the haircut. I like the coloring and am pleased to not look so shaggy. I’m still trying to accept the new (old?) look.

Maybe sometimes, we feel afraid, but it's alright
The more you stay the same, the more they seem to change.
Don't you think it's strange?

Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down
Sapphire and faded jeans, I hope you get your dreams,
Just go ahead, let your hair down.

I need to load up the Zune with more of my 80’s music. At least I’ve not got a David Cassidy cut, nor a New Romantic/New Wave Flock of Seagulls hairdo.

This R2 unit has a bad motivator

Random Work Conversation #413

JewelGeek (walking out the door): I think I'll go to Baja Fresh for lunch today.

Evil PXE: Ba-ja Fresh?

JewelGeek (sighing internally): Yes, do you want something?

Evil PXE: No, thanks. I have to go out later to get some converters for the battery...

JewelGeek: So you're going into Tosche Station to pick up some power converters..?

Evil PXE (smirking): Yeah, I'll call you when I get done at Tosche Station.

JewelGeek (closing office door): Okay, see ya.

Evil PXE (calling from his desk): You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done!

Was It Kepler or Newton Who Shouted 'Shotgun'?

I discovered a fun little game Sunday evening called Cosmic Crush, where you steer your little planetoid across the heavens, eating up planets. Whatever you do, don’t play it before heading off for work on Monday morning or you will view every car, truck, and bus as a tasty celestial morsel. Lumbering down the Interstate this morning, most of my ride consisted of these observations:

1. Don’t get too close to the yellow school bus. Ah! Yellow school bus!
2. I can totally take that little SUV. I'm sure it has less mass than my car.
3. Where’s a motorcyclist I can crunch?
4. Two Semis? Pull away! Pull away!
5. That VW Bug is all mine…
6. Watch the oncoming headlights. Watch... Are they pulling me to one side of the freeway?
7. Pull away from the Semi!
8. (Sigh) I'm never going to get to Level Three...

And the Beat Goes On

Latest on recording our LPs to CDs...

If you go off and leave the album to record, then your first track is all of the songs on side 1. Your second track becomes all of the songs on side 2. If you want each song to be it's OWN track, you have to sit by the stereo and press "pause" between each song so the CD knows it is now recording a new song.

Which, of course, we didn't do with the 6 albums JewelGeek recorded, but that I did for my 1 double-album Christmas LP. Now we get to listen to all of JewelGeek's albums all over again...

"There was one room in her house that was always kept locked... It was... the garage..."

I Groc My Geek

I had to take over the computer... JewelGeek wasn't telling the story right. When I got to "CrafterKat pushed me aside..." I knew I needed to intervene.

The reality was, JewelGeek's blood pressure was rising, and I could feel it across the room. Even over my LEGO Star Wars II computer game. And I was flying through a sea of TIE fighters. And I kept scattering my LEGO coins all over the universe because I was getting hit. But I digress...

So I asked JewelGeek if she wanted me to give it a try. [Yes.] And I asked her to put all the plugs for the in/out of the various stereo components back where they started. [Um, yeah...] And then I asked her where the manual was. It had been hidden on top of one of the stereo components since my last recording foray months and months ago. [I think it's on the dining room table...]

I read the manual. I looked at the back of the stereo at the net of white & red plugs. I read the manual. I looked at the plugs. I started the album. I didn't get any levels. I moved some plugs around, started the album. Sigh. Pause. Move plugs. Start the album. No levels. Repeat. Somewhere in there, JewelGeek began to offer some exasperated words of wisdom, and I told her to have a cow elsewhere.

In the end, I figured out the in/out plugs of the CD Recorder machine was backwards. Robin Leech's voice finally came through the speakers AND produced levels on the CD Recorder. Woo-hoo me! I out-geeked the Geek!

And for the next two hours, I went through a TimeWarp listening to albums from my teen years as JewelGeek recorded them for posterity. Oh, and I was kicking some serious Imperial Robutt, too. At about 11:30pm last night, I made True Jedi on Chapter 3 or 4 (I can't remember) of Episode VI, and could finally go to bed.

WEIRD dreams ensued... little LEGO Stormtroopers and Pig Guards rockin' out to INXS, and millions of LEGO coins jingling in space...

A Domino Effect In A Cloud Of Mystery

I'm unsure if any of you noticed, but CrafterGeek has turned one year old. Through our little door to the Blogosphere, we've recorded our kitchen remodel, trips to Seattle, summer camps, and family get-togethers. Our blog may need to be renamed, however; I may have to turn in my Geek card.

Last Wednesday, CrafterKat had a dinner meeting so I thought it might be a good time to try and record some of our old records onto CD. For those younger folk out there, music used to be stored on vinyl disks and came in large flat squares for safe-keeping...

For our anniversay, we bought a CD-RW recorder for our stereo unit. We've not used it much for recording, partly due to the time it takes and partly due to the stereo being in pieces for months on end during the remodel. But last April, CrafterKat re-recorded Treasure Island. All I remember of the process was this:

Jim Hawkins: In order to relate the story of Treasure Island...
CrafterKat: I'm not getting any levels.
Jim Hawkins: In order to relate the story of Treasure Island...
CrafterKat: I'm still not getting any levels.
Jim Hawkins: In order to relate the story of Treasure Island...
CrafterKat: It's still not recording.
Jim Hawkins: In order to relate the story of Treasure Island...

Go with something easy, I told myself. Not too many songs. I pulled out Aliens Ate My Buick by Thomas Dolby. This was an album that I remember driving around and listening to. A lot. The first song, The Keys To Her Ferrari, opens with Robin Leach. Yes, him. That guy who did the Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous. This is what I recall of Wednesday evening.

Robin Leach: There was one room in her house that was always kept locked. It was...the garage!
Me: I'm not getting any levels.
Robin Leach: There was one room in her house that was always kept locked.
Me: I'm still not getting any levels.
Robin Leach: There was one room in her house that was always kept locked.
Me: I'm not getting any levels. (heavy sigh)
Robin Leach: There was one room in her house that was always kept locked.
Me: Shut up!

I ended up burning an empty CD.

This weekend I broke down and admitted to CrafterKat that I couldn't get the damn thing to work. ....

New Year Frog?

On New Year's Eve, Critter and I had to run a few errands. On our long, winding way back home she said, "Be Your Fish."

"Be Your Fish?" I glanced at her and then at the car in front of me and understood.*

She nodded. "You know... Instead of Be Your Self, Be Your Fish."

My mind raced for a rebuttal. "Butter Your Flies."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ewwwww. I'm not a frog!"

I prefer her New Year's resolution. Being a geek though, I had to find out what kind of fish I would be this year (I went here). Unfortunately, my rebuttal is closer to the truth.

What kind of aquarium fish are you? Booger the Frog You are an energetic clown. You charm all with your humor and cute face. You're not the sharpest fish of the flock but we all sure love you!

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

* We often play the License Plate Game, taking the letters off of car plates and making a simple phrase out of it. The car in front of us on this trip had the letters BYF.

The Butterfly Strumpet

For those who don't know me, I work for a large non-profit that has ministries in a variety of areas. Suffice it to say, our campus computer users range from the misinformed to the tech savy. The latter does not usually apply to the residents of said organization who are, shall we say, a bit removed from the world due to the lifelong values they uphold. Yes, I think that's vague enough... :-)

Late last week we had a frantic e-mail from the lady who runs the Residence that her computer would not let her onto the Internet--it kept booting up to a pornographic website. I stopped by, changed her home page, and explained that somewhere along the way, she had probably clicked on something that had changed the page to that. No worries, though, it was an easy fix.

Over the weekend, however, there was another note from her that the Front Desk computer was infected. Suspecting it was the same issue as before, I made a point to swing by there first thing Monday morning. The receptionist had not yet arrived so I was greeted by Resident #1 who said the Internet was not working.

"Well, I think it is. I think someone just accidentally changed their home page to an innapropriate site. Do you know who it was that noticed the problem?" I logged in and pulled up the Internet; Google's website flashed into place. I nodded to myself--it was not computer-wide, it was just that one user.

"Well, I don't know. I'll page." She sent out two pages over the intercom and received no reply.

I began sifting through user accounts on the computer, looking for anything unusual. I logged into the computer as one common user and found that the home page took a long time to load--this was probably the user. I quickly closed the program as Resident #2 entered. "The computer has a virus," she informed me.

"No, no. Not really. Someone just clicked on something that changed their home page to a pornographic site." I clicked a few more times in Internet Explorer's tools, and changed the home page to something they were more likely to use.

"Well, can you check mine?" Resident #2 asked.

"Are you getting an inappropriate site? Do you see pornography?"

She adjusted her glasses, "What's pornography?"

I chuckled. "Well, um, you'd know it if you saw it." She gave me her credentials and I logged into the computer as her. A few mouse clicks and I had opened up Internet Explorer to a familiar blue website with a butterfly logo. "You've got MSN."

"Is that pornography?"

In Order To Relate The Story

Things are finally returning to a bit of normalcy in our home. March consisted of Critter getting ill, CrafterKat getting ill, me staying home with a temp for three days, and Critter getting ill a second time with a fever and a sinus infection. By Spring Break we were over the worst of it and able to finally enjoy some of the things that had been accomplished between high-pitched fevers.

CrafterKat and Mr. GoGoGo spent one weekend removing the old toilet and vanity from the downstairs bathroom. We chose a lovely yellow paint with a chiffon butternut type of name that looked completely different than the butternut chiffon. More eggplanty than meringue but less creamy than lemon. All I know is that I was hungry after finally choosing.

The following weekend, Mr. GoGoGo returned and laid new vinyl flooring in the bathroom and downstairs hallway. The new vanity and sink went in, followed by a new toilet, showerhead, and medicine cabinet/mirror. It looks fantastic! We have just one piece to put in—storage over the toilet to hold hand towels and other small items.

With Critter feeling better and school let out for a week, one of her best friends came to spend the night. The girls sang karaoke during the day and CrafterKat and I tried to tidy up loose ends around the house. We had purchased a new CD Recorder for our stereo unit (our anniversary gift to ourselves) and new stereo speakers since our old ones were from the days of the Partridge Family. We sat amidst stereo components and relabeled all the cables and tested the speakers.

When things finally worked as they were supposed to (meaning no kitties had unplugged anything during a break), CrafterKat began testing the new CD recorder with cassette tapes of a story she has enjoyed since childhood, Treasure Island.

Click. Whir. Click-click. In order to relate the story of Treasure Island…

“I’m not getting any levels on the CD player,” CrafterKat sighed. Click. Rewind. Random buttons were pushed. The girls entered and departed again, giggling. I left the stereo in her capable hands and called my Mother, the Social Butterfly, to check in. “Hello, it’s your mother,” I said into the receiver. She laughed. “Sorry, I’ve been in Mom mode this evening.” I looked up at the clock and realized it was time for Critter’s antibiotic. “Just a minute.” I dashed into the bathroom and retrieved the pill bottle, informing Critter that it was time for her medicine. My mother on the other end of the phone chuckled. “Okay, I’m done now.” We discussed her weekend and when she was going to come up to our house again.

Click. Whir. Click-click. In order to relate the story of Treasure Island, I must begin in the year seventeen…

“Presenting, the blue fairy!” Critter’s friend announced. Critter emerged in a blue Shakespearean era gown from her play clothes collection, complete with fairy wings she had made at Craft camp last summer. Her friend wore pantaloons and a checkered jester shirt. They giggled and returned to the bedroom.

…the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow Inn. Click. “The CD isn’t moving. I’m not getting any sound recorded.” CrafterKat went downstairs looking for something.

I returned to my phone conversation with my mother. “So you want to come up on Wednesday, then?” CrafterKat’s cell phone rang. I ran to her purse and answered, trying to make sense of two conversations. “Hello Grandpa. I’ll see if CrafterKat is available,” and began walking towards the stairs.

Critter emerged in another ensemble and the expectant is-it-a-boy? look on her face. “No, it’s Grandpa,” I told her and my two phone callers.

Mr. GoGoGo informed me that he needed to speak to Critter about fishing poles. I handed the cell phone off and returned to my mother. CrafterKat emerged a few minutes later and tried again.

Click. Whir. Click-click. …and the brown old seaman, with the saber cut, first took up lodging under our roof…

The fairies returned to the modeling runway, one wearing a Roman tunic and green velvet half-cape, the other in a cream gown from the fifties. We applauded their fashion sense and CrafterKat informed Critter that the dress was actually LaLa’s wedding gown, from fifty years ago. Critter’s eyes grew large at this pronouncement and she ducked back to her room to get another outfit.

…Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest. Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Leaning against the hole in the living room where the new fireplace will sit, I brought CrafterKat up-to-date on my mother’s agenda, “…and so my Mom’s picking up the fishing pole for Critter’s speech…”

A hooded figure emerged from the dark hallway and proceeded to my abandoned chair by the computer. “I want to suck out your soooouuuuulllll,” Critter intoned to my empty seat.

“Aaaaaccckkk!” I gurgled and fell to my knees. “Nooooooo” and proceeded to fall face forward on the carpet, my feet sticking up in the air.

…keep a weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one leg…

Critter laughed and picked up her cloak to run back down the hallway. The fashion faeries eventually went to bed and CrafterKat’s fiddling finally produced recorded results.

As I said, things are finally returning to normal.

Inside every turning leaf is the pattern of an older tree

Editor's Note: Origingally penned just after Christmas but our blog was not up and running at that time.


The day after Christmas reminded me again of how much I enjoy my family. It started with my Mom, the Social Butterfly, making banana pancakes and reminding us that we still had not completed the snow puzzle she had set up. I began packing up our gear only to be reminded that we still needed to get the new VCR/DVD hooked up for my mother.

I unboxed the contraption and gave the remote to my mother so she could put the batteries in. With my head stuck inside the media cupboard, my mother decided that now was a good time to ask all her VCR questions. “What do these numbers do?”

“I don’t know. I’m not to that part yet,” I called from inside the cabinet.

“What does Set Time mean?”

I craned my neck around some more. “I don’t know. I can’t see anything else.”

After a few more back contortions, I finally got the box set up and programmed in her soap opera. “Now, remember, you need to hit this button here and then the power button, to make sure the program is set. You’ll see a little clock just above the time.” Actually with my prescription and hers it looks like a square but I wasn’t going to go into semantics right now. She nodded and thankfully I didn’t have to go into the Power Off vs. Power On routine that has normally followed any programming done on the VCR.

Flashback 1980-something…
Me: So, Mom, to program your soaps you need to turn the Power on, go to the Program menu and plug in the date and time. When you’re done, press the Power button again to turn the machine off so it can begin taping.
Mom: Don’t you mean turn the Power button on? Because it needs to be On to start taping?
Me: The VCR already has the Power turned on. That’s how we set the date and time. Now we need to turn it off so it can start taping.
Mom: So I press the button to turn it on to start recording? I turn the Power on?
Me: *sighs heavily*

Repeat for each new VCR purchased thereafter.

We packed up the car with our Christmas goodies and suitcases and went to Mr. GoGoGo’s house to pick up leftovers. My father-in-law had BBQ’d a great turkey for dinner—he has since declared that it is time to get a new grill as this one finished the bird in two hours instead of four or five.

More food was crammed into available crannies, we reminded LaLa to see the doctor tomorrow (Avocado Pit=1, LaLa’s Finger=0), and Critter loaded up on leftover suckers which had been provided by the Gold Beach contingent. I tried not to think of the number of presents and linens that could be covered in a sticky goo in the back seat.

The Renaissance Man, CrafterKat's brother, returned from the store, his youngest son sporting a new purple lightsaber. Apparently older brothers can’t have purple ones—younger ones are supposed to have them, too. Our young Jedi showed a few moves and dropped the lightsaber. “Careful!” cried his mother, “I don’t want you breaking it already!”

He pointed to the handle. “Don’t worry, just this small bit broke off right here.”

“We just bought it five minutes ago!”

He chuckled as only a six-year old can. “Just kidding.”

After more hugs and goodbyes, we finally piled into the car and headed to Starbucks to get the driver fully caffeinated. Ten minutes later she came back with her pumpkin latte and my hot chocolate. “What took so long?” I asked.

“New guy running the cash register who didn’t know what buttons to push and a Barrista? Barristo? running the espresso machine on Eugene Time. Which is not as laid back as Hawaii time, but close.” I nodded and we merged onto the freeway.

Our return trip home was a delightful mélange of teenisms, wild animal sightings and snacking. I looked in the mirror and spied Critter slurping on a green sucker. “What flavor is it?”

“Sugar,” she answered.

Before we hit Brownsville we had spotted about ten hawks, each about 500 ft. apart spying the fields for rodents. Critter spotted three more, fourteen baby lambs and one golden styrofoam eagle.

“I have to get up to 16 hawks,” Critter said.

“Why…?”

“For when I become 16 because that’s when I’ll have my own car.”

We chuckled at her assumptions.

This is the same teenager who, with an older sibling/babysitter voice, advised Jedi Racoon, her six-year old cousin, to be sure and leave a note for Santa along with a plate of cookies. My nephew listened intently, the youngest and last True Believer in our family, and included a carrot for Santa’s reindeer beside his note.

When we got home to my mother’s Christmas night, Critter asked how Santa could get into houses without chimneys. Christmas morning we discovered a glass of milk and a note had been left for Santa in Critter’s seventh grade scrawl.