Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Dear old dad.

This morning I wake up to this email from home with the subject "swine flu":
It’s time you looked around for the tamiflu and masks your paranoid dad gave you 3-4 yrs ago.
I was a bit disappointed that he was only sending this warning now. He is usually much more up to speed. I guess he just doesn't love me as much.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Tess is my hero

Tess is generally a worthless dog unless you are cold and need the warmth of of a dog's butt in your face, or if you need to be alerted to a squirrel on the roof at 3 am, or if you have a frisbee that needs some catching. Early this morning she proved that she might not be as worthless as she seems.

I have been scared to death of snakes since junior high when I surprised a rattlesnake as much as it surprised me. That snake went for my shin that was covered by jeans and some good boots. I got lucky. So, yea, I don't trust or have any affection for snakes.

6:30 this morning rolls around and it's time to take the girls out for a potty break before work and Tess wandered the yard for a bit before becoming obviously agitated. My initial thought was that there was a frog or something she was harassing. Wrong. Copperhead.

It lasted about 3 seconds. My hero eliminated an imminent threat. I don't know how dogs know that something is afoul, but they do.

She has had multiple once-overs to look for bite marks and the vet has been notified that I may be calling if needed. Not to worry. I'm 99.9% sure that everything is just fine and that Tess is in no danger whatsoever. I still won't sleep tonight because I've been through this with Molly after an encounter with a water moccasin.

Everyone else can sleep easy knowing that there is one less poisonous snake hanging around.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A little home schooling

This evening's lesson: Gentle giants always trump punks and the punks lack the ability to argue with this lesson.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Tummy rub time!

Who wants to go first?

Some days, work makes sense

Over a year ago, armed with only preliminary sketches and an idea, a truly talented artist brought a vision to life. Today, some photos came from a photographer with a much better grasp of proper lighting, ect. The idea has almost come full circle. Give it about a month.

The picture? Pictures are fun. Why not?

We have to make a deal now, okay? You can't ask where the idea was born and I can't tell you why I keep a sketchbook in the bathroom. eShake?

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Happy Masters Eve

Twas the night before The Masters, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The beer cans were stashed in the refrigerator with care,
In hopes that St. Nicklaus soon would be there.

The dogs were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of birdies danced in their heads.
And Molly in her spot, and I in my booze,
Had just settled down for a long spring's snooze.

When out on the range there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen dew
Gave the lustre of mid-day to a feeling so new.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an old crusty caddy, and ice, ice cold beer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Phil! Now, Sandy! Now, Woosnam and Player!
On, Couples! On, Watson! On, on Vijay...even Tiger!
To the top of the leader board! To the top of the wall!
Now play away! Play away! Play away all!"

As azaleas that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the top the coursers they flew,
With the bag full of hopes, and St Nicklaus too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my cot
The scratching and clawing of each little shot.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the fairway St Nicklaus came with a bound.

He was dressed all in plaid, from his foot to his hand,
And his clothes were all tarnished with divots and sand.
A bundle of shots he still had in his bag,
And he looked like a fiddler, just practicing his craft.

His eyes-how they twinkled! His swing how classic!
His cheeks were like roses, his strut was fantastic!
His demeanor was poised so we all could see,
And smile on his face was was as it should be.

The stump of a tee he held tight in his teeth,
And the crowd it encircled his group like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little gray hair,
That blew in the wind, like a leaf in the air!

He filled all the holes, with long distance putts,
And finished his business, no ifs, ands or buts.
And laying his putter aside of his sack,
And giving a nod, and a tip of the cap!

He sprang to Butler Cabin, and the crowd gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he walked out of sight,
"Happy Masters to all, and to all a good-night!"

Sunday, April 05, 2009

Golf weekend

It all started with an early morning round that was too early for me on a Saturday, but I did it anyway. 7am. No playing partners. I'm so happy I did it. It was just me, the dew and solace.

Next was watching some pros play while drinking some$8 beers. I swear, if Fred Couples had won, the place would have been crazy! Boom Boom didn't win. It was some guy with a funny accent who took the title.

My only relief from the huge disappointment this afternoon is that it that we have entered the most most holy week in golf. Masters week. Oddly enough, it coincides with another Holy week, and I hope everyone had a great Palm Sunday.

Enjoy your week! I know I sure will.

The last thing I see before going to the bedroom