London Fog

You know that cliché old adage about some­one bring­ing the weath­er from where their from when they come for a vis­it? Well, the Queen of Eng­land, along with her hus­band Prince Philip, are in Rich­mond today to cel­e­brate the 400th Anniver­sary of the found­ing of Jamestown, VA. Yes­ter­day in Rich­mond was about 90° F and sun­ny. Today is over­cast and in the upper 50’s. Hon­est­ly, Your Majesty; you’re not real­ly vis­it­ing if you bring every­thing from home with you. I’m just saying.

What Facial Expressions to Use When You’re Expecting

So Angela and I have been read­ing some dif­fer­ent books on preg­nan­cy. Okay, she’s been doing most of the read­ing so far as she has about five dif­fer­ent books. I bought one, titled Preg­nan­cy Sucks for Men: What to Do When Your Mir­a­cle Makes You BOTH Mis­er­able, which is a fair­ly enter­tain­ing read as well as infor­ma­tive, although I could do with­out some of the patron­iz­ing man-humor. I inter­est­ed in my kid more than the foot­ball game and I don’t need some oth­er guy to tell me in a burly voice that’s the cool thing to do.

Any­way, Ange­la’s night­stand has become a pile of preg­nan­cy relat­ed infor­ma­tion. From her pre­na­tal vit­a­mins to her Fit Preg­nan­cy mag­a­zines, to her stack of preg­nan­cy books, she’s been read­ing a lot late­ly. Of course, when you’re going to have a baby, the de fac­to hand­book is What to Expect When You’re Expect­ing. Every­one reads this book when they’re about to have a baby (It even showed up in an episode of last year’s ill-fat­ed sci-fi show Inva­sion, with the moth­er-to-be Larkin read­ing the book). I think they must pay OB-Gyns to hand it out. How­ev­er, it was­n’t until Angela and I spent some time in the preg­nan­cy sec­tion of our Barnes & Noble that I notice some­thing about the cov­er of this book, as well as the cov­er of the asso­ci­at­ed book (also on Ange­la’s night­stand) What to Expect: Eat­ing Well When You’re Expect­ing:

What to Expect When You're Expecting, Third EditionWhat to Expect: Eating Well When You\'re Expecting (What to Expect)

See the pat­tern? This woman does not seem very hap­py about her child-to-be. What I don’t under­stand is, if you’re draw­ing a mod­el for the cov­er of your book, can’t you draw them any­way you want? Why not draw them hap­py? Would­n’t sell­ing preg­nan­cy has a cause for joy help you sell more books about that subject?

In look­ing some of these up, I came across the Span­ish ver­sion of this book:

Qué Se Puede Esperar Cuando Se Está Esperando: (What to Expect When You\'re Expecting, 3rd Edition)

I don’t get it. If you speak Span­ish, you’ll be hap­py about being preg­nant? Non­sense. We’re hap­py. A lot more than the depressed woman on the cov­er of Ange­la’s books, who looks as though she may give up at any moment.

My Stomach Hurts Wii-ly Bad

A Swedish man’s appen­dix burst while wait­ing at the front of the line to get a Wii so the store man­ag­er held his place for him dur­ing a 48 hour stay at the hos­pi­tal. The appen­dix patient still was the first per­son to receive a con­sole from that store. And I thought the peo­ple work­ing at Tar­get here were real­ly nice!

On A Break From Vacationing

The New House

Well, we made it back to Rich­mond late last night and were safe­ly back at our jobs today. What was sup­posed to be a relax­ing trip to Ten­nessee to help sort through some of Ange­la’s old things turned out to be a full on mov­ing expe­ri­ence! We got most all of her par­ents’ things from the old house to the new one, though. This was in no small part due to the help of friends and fam­i­ly who came over to lend a lot of help. Jason John­son and Kevin O’Mara earned more thanks than all of us could ever give them by show­ing up on very short notice and work­ing very hard with­out com­plaint to move a lot of fur­ni­ture. My mom and younger broth­er also spared some of their respec­tive days off to come and lend a hand. Just know­ing that you have peo­ple in your life that will help out like that real­ly makes you real­ize how lucky you are. I know you heard it so much you prob­a­bly thought it was a skip­ping record, but I just want to put in writ­ing for all the inter­net to know: thank you all so much for your help. It meant so much to me, Angela, and my in-laws for you to put in hours of labor for us.

I learned some­thing new about my wife that I hon­est­ly either did­n’t know or just had­n’t been able to grasp what it meant until now. She owned more stuffed ani­mals than a car­ni­val ball toss booth. She was­n’t the kind of girl in col­lege that kept them out on her bed dur­ing the day or any­thing, thank good­ness. No, they had been hid­den like Al Capone’s loot in the back of a nev­er opened and thor­ough­ly filled clos­et since she was a lit­tle girl. Upon round­ing the cor­ner one morn­ing while car­ry­ing box­es, I saw what hon­est­ly made my draw drop: shelves from floor to ceil­ing of stuffed ani­mals. There were Care Bears, My Lit­tle Pony, Cab­bage Patch Dolls and Pound Pup­pies. She even had a stuffed Pac Man (although appar­ent­ly my wife had com­plete­ly for­got­ten the waka-waka Pac Man sound effect as she clear­ly demon­strat­ed to me…). It was amaz­ing. Sad­ly, no real pho­to­graph­ic evi­dence was made of just how much stuff was stuffed on those shelves since there was too much sweat­ing and curs­ing going on at the moment to make me want to find the cam­era. How­ev­er, it was real­ly an amaz­ing sight.

While I had real­ly hoped to get a lot more done at the new house in the way of light­ing, fix­tures, and arrang­ing, most of the time in Cookeville was spent just haul­ing stuff. Dave and I did man­age to get at least one ceil­ing fan installed in a guest bed­room (which will be known as the Angela suite for now on), but not with­out some trou­ble. We quick­ly got the old light fix­ture down and the new one up in it’s place, but in my haste I did­n’t do a very good job of pro­vid­ing a sol­id wiring con­nec­tion. In the process of get­ting the fan in place, one or both of the wires came loose and the fan of course then could­n’t work on an open cir­cuit. Grum­bling, Dave and I took it down and I got a good, sound con­nec­tion at both wires. Hop­ing to be sure that this was just my poor wiring skills and not some sort of more dif­fi­cult prob­lem with wiring else­where or the fan itself, I decid­ed to test the fan before actu­al­ly get­ting every­thing put back togeth­er. There’s a rea­son that step is left out of the instruc­tions. While the fan was hang­ing by the tem­po­rary hook which allows for some work­ing room to con­nect wires, I flipped the switch. Well, an un-weight­ed fan gets to top speed very quick­ly and the mass of the fan motor pull the hook off of the ceil­ing mount in an instant. The motor weighed enough to pull itself free of even my now very sub­stan­tial wire splice and came speed­ing straight down onto the bed below. While a very old mat­tress, there was plen­ty of bounce to pop the motor back up into the air and off of the bed onto the (very) hard­wood floor below. The fan was mov­ing a fair­ly good clip and the del­i­cate brass met­al and plas­tic relays stood lit­tle chance of sur­viv­ing impact. In front of my broth­er and mom and in the span of about a sec­ond I went from tri­umphant elec­tri­cal prob­lem solver to a rather embar­rassed broth­er, son, hus­band, and engi­neer. After a fair­ly short silence, Dav­e’s roar­ing laugh­ter made us all feel a lit­tle bit bet­ter about just how hilar­i­ous what we had just watched was.

We quick­ly went over to Lowe’s and bought an iden­ti­cal fan and had the sec­ond up and work­ing in less than ten min­utes after get­ting back to the house. The les­son here: just wire it right in the first place and don’t try and test things in what are obvi­ous­ly stu­pid ways. Wait, that’s not even a les­son; that’s just plain com­mon sense. Some­thing that I would real­ly regret hav­ing mis­placed that after­noon were it not for just how real­ly enter­tain­ing it was to watch that fan motor take flight.

The bad news after this trip, oth­er than just how tired and sore Angela and I both are, was that we did­n’t get to see my big broth­er or my Dad and his wife, Susan, at all. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, there just was­n’t time for us to get to do a lot of the things we real­ly want­ed to dur­ing this trip because what had to be done took a lot of time. Any­way, we’ll have all that much more to enjoy come the Christ­mas hol­i­day sea­son and it sure was good to have the Dyers moved. I know their going to enjoy their new home and we’ll enjoy get­ting to visit.

McSweeney’s List of Dangerous Children’s Books Per Sean Hannity

The Five Most Dan­ger­ous Chil­dren’s Books Ever Writ­ten, Accord­ing to Sean Han­ni­ty. On The Adven­tures of Huck­le­ber­ry Finn by Mark Twain: It should also be not­ed that Twain, who invent­ed can­cer and hates pup­pies, is not even using his real name. Samuel Clemens, wher­ev­er you’re hid­ing, if you have any integri­ty, you will appear on my show and defend your irra­tional and unpa­tri­ot­ic beliefs.