rope. tree. fan. spear. snake. wall.

Monday, July 31, 2006

progress report

I know, I'm not blogging. Here's what I'm doing while I wait for my computer to boot...

Also working on this... I need to reduce my massive yarn supplies, and I can't stand to throw anything away. This kind of knitting goes well with the masses and masses of reading I'm having to do for school.

Still working madly - I was supposed to be done after yesterday, but due to an accident which is nobody's fault, they've had to push the deadline back a week, so I've got one more day. I hope it's only one. The ant-labor, yes, very grueling and brain-deadifying. (See? If I were lucid I would have been able to come up with a real word. Brain-deadifying. Sheeesh.)

House purchase? In progress. We'll meet with Mr Fisher tomorrow evening and set things in motion. Unless he's decided he'd rather rent to these other people than sell to us. Fingers crossed, I really love that house.

And a translating project that we're not really qualified for, but unfortunately, the people who are qualified probably don't exist. Did you know that translators choose a specialty when they qualify? No, not Spanish or Russian or French or whatever, but a particular area of expertise: economics or technology or medicine. Our specialty is Humanities, i.e. history, philology, linguistics and philosophy. Anyway, what we have is a jargon-heavy piece on picture-framing. Do we have the vocabulary for this? We sure don't! Neither, tragically, does Google.

Also? Something that's always true, but for some reason I need to tell you about it Right Now: the neighbor kids have two pet rabbits, and they named one of them Shtupsy. No, they don't speak Yiddish, and have no idea that they've named their bunny Fucksy. Are you gonna tell them?

Song du jour of the day: Jumpin' Jumpin' by Destiny's Child.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

speaking of blogging milestones...

Overwhelmed With Joy has just put up her 100th post, and she wants to see your 100th post too! Pop on over and add your name and the url of your 100th post to her nifty little list (I gotta learn how to do that...), and spread the word! Because it's kinda fun.

Here's mine. Although, to be honest, it's actually only my 100th since switching to Blogger. I can't show you the real 100th, because I hand-coded my blog for the first three years (yeah, I know) and I'd never be able to find it.

Song du jour of the day: 1000 Stars, by Big Country.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

See? It's not just you!

I know you think that everyone else gets an annual Christmas card with photo from me, and timely thank-you notes and all that, and it's only your birthday that I forget Every. Damn. Year. But it's really not true. Seriously, get together, compare notes and you will see that there is no connection whatsoever between my love for you and the sending of pretty pieces of paper on or around significant dates.

And this time, the date I forgot is one of mine - my fourth ... uh, whaddyacallit? Blog-iversary? Blog-thday? I dunno, but my first blog post happened on July 25th, 2002. And no I can't post a link to it because 1) it would lead the stalkers right to my house, and 2) since my blog originated as an open letter to my parents, essentially, it's a really boring entry.

Anyway. Tuesday was a biggish day. And I forgot it completely.

Oh, and p.s. um, Happy birthday Melanie! Couple days late! And Krystal? Your card's in my bag, I just can't seem to track down your address. I know it's around here somewhere. (jeez...)

Song du jour of the day: A-Ha. The Sun Always Shines on TV

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Guess what I have!?

A fistful of permanent markers...

a new pair of sandals...

... and a Cunning Plan.

Heh. Heh. Heh.

And the song du jour of the day is in honor of James, who will be leaving us soon: Go West, by the Village People. Good luck with the move James! I loved visiting Amsterdam, and I know you're going to love living there.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Dear kindergarten lady,

I gave him a water-bottle, every day, until YOU told me to stop it. Now you want him to have one last Wednesday, today, and this Thursday? Do I look like I have time to remember that kind of crap in the morning? Tellyouwhat: since YOU see fit to change the rules every couple days? Maybe YOU should supply the water-bottles.

Just a thought.

love, alala

Song du jour of the day: Roy Orbison (among others), Mean Woman Blues. Though, if it were to be relevant to this post, it'd have to be called Mildly Annoying Woman (Who, Thank God, I Don't Ever Have to Deal With Again After Next Week) Blues. Hm. That's not very catchy, is it? Guess we'll stick with the original, then.

Friday, July 21, 2006


I always mean to answer my comments, but you've probably noticed by now that I'm not real good at getting around to things. Until now, heh heh. So, on the post that linked to photos of what, God willin' and the creek don't rise, will be my next home:

Kelly said...
I think it looks great, though I am a bit confused- is the first two images of the top floor? Or a basement?
The um, upper-attic. The attic room is actually divided into two rooms, and I didn't photograph the first one because it was too dark in there, but it already has a wardrobe in it, and is really quite nice, with a sloping ceiling and a lot more space than you think at first glance. And the second one, that's in the photos. With the built-in shelves along one wall, and the little spiral stairway up to a storage area with skylight, and those things on the other side are also for storage. Giant drawers on the left, hingey things up top, and a bar for hanging clothes from in the middle. Love. It.

You should come see it. We'll figure out a guest-room.

Honestly? I know this is what I'm supposed to be doing for a living, but I canNOT figure out how to get the pictures to line up the way I want them. I'm all, <barbie-voice>Something about "div"...</barbie-voice> It's brain-fry from work, normally I'm not this clueless.

braddahspud said...
built-in bookshelves? BOOyah. and I think those are the attic-type space. Word on the dark kitchen? Under-cabinet lights and indirect lighting (for example, if you have or create space between cabinet-top and ceiling, lights in there pointed toward the ceiling), with light paint/cabinet colors will help a fair amount. And the kitchen goes, right? nice place!
I don't know who you are, but I like you a lot. The under-cabinet lights are already there (and dude - you turn them on just by touching them. HOW COOL IS THAT?), but the cabinet-top light idea? effing AWESOME, man! Please come back and give me more suggestions, because you clearly know your shit.

~d said...
I sent mine out too.
Very eerie!

What do I do next, Ms. Mixmania-been here done that?!
Wait for yours to come in the mail. Be ready to rhapsodize about it when it arrives. Keep an eye on Jim's blog and be ready to post your songlist when he gives the word - that'll be July 31st, and you put your list up on August first.
OOOH! OOOH! Is that really gonna be YOUR house?!?!

Hope so. You're gonna come visit, right? We'll figure out a guest-room.

~d (also) said...
P.S. Thing 1 thinks hizzle is cool looking-and wanted to know if thats your kid-in the pix.
Yes, that is the Sniglet, trying to look Cool. Apparently cool people do not smile for photos. Beware - the younger ones grow up way faster than the firstborn. Tragic, but true.

Song du jour of the day, apropos of nothing in this post but total song virus which I'm loving lately: Promiscuous, by Nelly Furtado and Timbaland. Sent to me by ~d, to my undying gratitude.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

three days

Tuesday I left work early (5 p.m.) to get home in time to go look at the Fisher house with the bfil, DrBob, and a tired, cranky five-year-old.

Wednesday I left work middlin' (7) and went straight from the train station to the building where I teach my English classes. Didn't get home till 10.

Today I left work late - 8:00 late - and came home totally dizzy and strange and even more conversationally-challenged than usual.

Add sangría, stir a bit...

This is your brain on drugs... this is your brain with two strips of bacon and a side of toast...

fabble gleep.

Go read Kelly's blog, she's got some really cool stuff up lately. Come back when I've had time to floss my brain and introduce myself to the alarmingly self-sufficient little blondish boys who live here. And who haven't seen their mama for three days.

Oh! And? If you haven't already, go sponsor Monty in the blogathon, please? Because I really need to hear her do that Witch Doctor Song. Seriously. I need it.


Ooo eee, oo-ah-ah, ting, tang, walla walla bing-bang...

Tuesday, July 18, 2006


Well, I sent out my Mixmania! cd on Monday, two days late, because I didn't think the post office would be open on Saturday. Turns out I was wrong, gack. I must admit, I don't feel too good about this one, I was never able to give it the attention it deserved. Bummer.

We took Georg, the bfil (that's my best friend-in-law, i.e. DrBob's best friend) to see the two houses we are seriously considering. We've had our, ahem, differences, in the past, but I do at least try to be honest about his strengths, and he does have a good eye for houses.

He likes the one I like. The one that I think is a characterless box in a zombie-Stepford neighborhood? He thinks it's a characterless box in a zombie-Stepford neighborhood. I was all set to respect his opinion and give up on the Mr Fisher house if he said it was basically a big wad of dry-rot that just hadn't gotten around to collapsing yet but would any minute, and by the way, what the hell is with the alligators in the basement, I really was. But he likes it, and he didn't see any alligators, and he thinks we should make an offer.


Which we will, just as soon as we are absolutely, 100% sure there will be actual money coming in, on the sale of my mother's house.

The kitchen is dark. Really quite dark. That's because there's not a lot of light coming in, because the window has all these BIG, GIANT TREES in front of it. Yes! Actual, grown-up trees! Trees! I like trees. Anyway, I have thrown up some photos, totally disorganized and all, maybe I'll make it all nice later, but for now, this'll have to do: house.

Also? I worked today. My co-worker calls it ant-work, what we're doing now. One tedious fiddly task that requires careful attention and must be done approximately 841,000,000 more times by the end of the month. And I'll be working tomorrow and the next day, which will totally fry my brain, so if I blog before Friday, it'll probably be a lot like "fabble gleep? B-fwaeh, halebidada."

Song du jour of the day: My Bloody Valentine. Swallow.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

nervous nervous nervous

DrBob flies to Berlin tomorrow for his job interview. I sure hope it goes well.

Jitter jitter jitter.

Song du jour of the day: Sexy Boy, by Air

say WHAT?

So I've been bumbling along, thinking we're going to buy a house soon here in OurTown, thinking the major issue was about the two houses, which one do I want, which does he want, how will we decide, blah blah blah. Last night we went out to dinner (in celebration of his third book, which still needs polishing, but is effectively done), and he's all on about we need to consider all the options, we could move to Munich, we could move to any one of the thousand little hobbit-towns around here, we could invest the money and just wait some more, until we know more about our future - oh, that last one? Hel-lo? Pay rent for another year when we don't have to (sound of toilet flushing)?

Okay, the thing is. The job that brought us here was for two years. The project got another three years of funding, so we found out, in October of 2003, that we'd still have jobs in January of 2004. In around that was all the applications to universities on two continents, so even if the project continued there was always the possibility that we'd be moving anyway. So even though we've been in this house for five years, there has never been a time when we could definitively say that we knew where we'd be Next Year. Our furniture is mostly lightweight, easy to move or disposable, we don't have anything nice - we sleep on mattresses on the floor, DrBob and I - because we might have to move at any time. And he's always saying soon we'll know more, and wait a bit, and here it is again. And I tried to make nice at the restaurant last night because fighting in restaurants is such a horrible thing, but frankly? I'm a little irritated.

Because I'm tired of this instability, indeed I am. I am sick of not knowing where we'll be next, or when Next will start - to the point of being willing to accept that he might have to spend half the year in Berlin, but the kids and I are staying here, dammit. Think about the kind of pressure that would make you willing to be a single mom for half the year. And I thought here we had at least part of a decision made, that we'd narrowed it down to a particular town at least, but no, apparently those conversations didn't happen and it's all up in the air again. Daaargh!

You know how they say libras have a hard time making decisions because they can see both sides of an issue? Right, well I'm here to tell you that when an issue has forty sides? It makes us very, very unhappy.

Song du jour of the day: Crazy, by R.E.M.

Oh also? I forgot to say that I ganked the pirate quiz from Kelly. Thanks, Kel, yes I am very pirate-y. Hee hee hee.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Let me help you with that... um... I mean... AARRRR!

Dread Pirate Roberts

Letting people think you are a billy bad ass keeps you in business but when it comes down to it, you'll do the right thing every time. You are a good person at heart and just can't help being the hero.

Dread Pirate Roberts - 100%
Captain James T. Hook - 100%
Mary Read - 100%
Captain Jack Sparrow - 100%
Sinbad - 100%
Black Beard - 92%
Long John Silver - 75%
Captain Barbossa - 42%
Morgan Adams - 33%
Will Turner - 33%
What kind of Pirate are you?

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

it doesn't exactly scan...

To be sung to the tune of the Happy Birthday song:

Happy Anniversary to meeee
I've managed to stay married to the same guy for 12 yeeeeears
Pretty impressive considering my dodgy family backround
Happy Anniversary tooo meeeeeeeee...

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Yawn. More house stuff.

We saw two more houses, both not pits, today. One was an apartment, actually, fabulously located right near Ignatz's school - literally, two blocks. A vast improvement on the four blocks away we live now, because those blocks are level, while ours are uphill (both ways <grin>). But the yard belongs to the downstairs people. But it has lots of rooms. But there'd be traffic noise from the highway. But the dining room is almost all windows, which is pretty. But this, but that, but whatever. We're probably not going to buy it.

The agent had another house up his sleeve, though (yeah. REALLY big sleeves). We'll call it the Decker house, because the agency is Decker, Inc. It's in the new neighborhood that's being built up north of the high school, and it's just floors, walls and a roof right now. So we'd get to pick the interior doors, the floor-coverings, etc. The guy even said they'd be willing to put an extra wall in the attic room for us, turn it into two rooms. There's a garage. The house'd be brand new, it isn't even done yet, so nothing would need to be repaired or replaced for a good long time. Most of it will even be under warranty, so if something did plotz in the next few years, the folks who installed it (all local) would come out and fix it for free. And the kids wouldn't have to cross the highway to get to school, like they would from the Fisher house. There's a traffic light, so the highway crossing's not hugely dangerous, but my sons are both Cocky McKnow-It-All, so it's a bit more dangerous than it really needs to be.

Umm, so yeah. Definitely better than the Fisher house in a lot of ways, but of course more expensive. Probably about €80,000 more expensive, which would be prohibitive in most situations, but we could swing it. We just have to weigh the pros and cons, I guess. DrBob is obviously very keen on the idea of getting to pimp the house ourselves (well, himself, since we'd never agree and he usually wins). But I really like the Fisher house, for reasons I can't articulate. We are both not keen on the whole debt-thing, to be honest. So I dunno.

There will be photos at some point. Then y'all can help me decide.

Song du jour del día: Dilema, by Los Tradicionales de Carlos Puebla. (Yes, in Spanish it has only one m.)

Monday, July 10, 2006

Oh, I could perish from the cuteness

Exposition: I hate shopping for clothes. You ever see those 12-packs of t-shirts and think "Now whothehell would buy something like that?" Me. I buy t-shirts in 12-packs whenever possible. (This will not be news to those of you who have actually seen me.) That's how I shop for my sons' things, too. If Aldi has kid-clothes on special, I get in, grab whatever they have in the boys' sizes and get out before some baying mommy-shopper bites off my hand. Which is why I have to check the tags to figure out where to put the folded laundry, because my sons have a lot of the same clothes, just in different sizes.

Story: Anyway. Tonight Ignatz put on his truck jammies, and requested that I put the Sniglet in his truck jammies tomorrow, so they can match. Awwwww, that is so cuuuuute! Especially since, with six years between them, they've never been all that close. And now Ignatz is 11 and I know these moments will get fewer and farther between.

Also, look! This is the grapevine that tries to eat our garden shed every summer. We were wrestling with it when we spotted the birds' nest, and decided shaking the babies was not nice. So we cut the vines back instead of trying to bind them. See the baby blackbird in there? No? Zoom in a bit...

There. Now isn't that just so darling?

Song du jour of the day: Loveable. The cheerfully affectionate Sam Cooke version, not the mean, sarcastic Elvis Costello version. Though, admittedly, the latter is miles better.


We've called Mr Fisher and told him we're interested in the house, so the process is starting. That's good. Weather's nice. That's good too. I have to register for my class tonight, but for today at least, I'm reasonably free. Free to do a metric assload of housework, but hey, I didn't even have that luxury for the last couple months.

Sigh. The World Cup is over for another four years. You'd think that'd free up some time, and some of you might be relieved to think the sports-rattle is over for this blog, at least for awhile. But no. On second thought, make that HELL NO!


Sunday, July 09, 2006

Oh Zizou, how could you?

He was style, elegance, class and grace personified in the Brazil game. I've always loved Zidane, but that headbutt to the chest - I almost felt it myself, I was so surprised! I am the first to admit that Materazzi desperately needs to be slapped, no really I am, but not like this! Not when you could (and did) get sent off for it! I was so disappointed, still reeling from it by the time it came to penalties, I didn't care who won. The Italians, with their thuggery and diving, were never my choice, but Zizou, hitting him like that, you showed you were no better. Nobody who made it to the final deserved to win. I'm so sad.

Aside from that, it was a good World Cup, and I had a great time with it, but that final... I hope nothing like that ever happens again.

Samirah, congratulations. If you had a blog of your own (hint, hint) I'd congratulate you in the comments, but as it is I just have to hope you see it here. I won't say the best team won - I'd say the best team didn't make it to the final at all - but I know you'll be happy to see Italy with the trophy, and I'll be happy for you, since I can't be sorry France lost after that... that travesty.

Song du jour of the day: I Know It's Over, by the Smiths.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

oh, y'know, whenever

I talked to Jerry the other day, he says he still hasn't scattered Mom's ashes. My brother says Jerry operates on 'Aloha time', which is the best way of putting it I've ever heard, and is the way I operate, actually. It'll get done when it gets done, and meanwhile, she's sitting on the back porch in her cookie jar, with a view of the garden. So she can see that Mrs Buyer comes over to take care of it, even though we haven't closed yet, and she will know that the new owners will love her garden as much as she did. Which is as it should be.

Song du jour of the day is Days, by Elvis Costello.

Thursday, July 06, 2006


Well. We looked at another house today. It's the one we were sniffing around last night when the guy (Mr Fisher) invited us to look at his house. This one we'll call the Mr Crouton house, because I can't remember the owner's name but it's something like that. €239,000, plus 3.48% realtor's commission, and it's part of the same house-cluster as the Mr Fisher house, built at the same time, similar size etc.

So the Mr Fisher house, I really like it, and I kind of don't want to admit to myself how much I like it, because I don't want to be too disappointed if we don't get it. At the same time, we had this viewing tonight, and another agent is going to get back to me on another house early next week, so I also had kind of a plenty-fish-in-sea feeling, you know?

Then we looked at the Mr Crouton house. Oh myGod, as DrBob says. It's... just... ugh. Icky smell in the basement. Long, narrow brown kitchen, and we'd have to supply all the counters, cupboards and appliances ourselves. Lots of carpet (we hate carpet), totally filthy. A kachelofen, like in the Mr Fisher house, but not as conveniently located or as nice. Dining area? Downstairs from the kitchen, are you imagining the disaster-potential there? I just... um. I would probably settle for such a house, thinking oh well, every house needs a bit of work at first, if I hadn't seen the Mr Fisher house. Now that I see what else is out there, I really really want the Mr Fisher house, so now I really will be disappointed if we don't get it. DrBob says "I'll call him," and I'm like "Now? Howbout now?"

Oh heck, did I mention this? Because it's biggish news. In addition to finishing a book, DrBob has a job interview in Berlin on the 17th. He wants to be a professor when he grows up, and competition is really fierce, so we're keeping our fingers and toes crossed for this Berlin thing. So anyway, he's under huge pressure right now, and I shouldn't be pushing him. I know this. But I really, really want that house.

Song du jour of the day: The One, by Shakira. I'm sure the romance is just a metaphor and she's really singing about a house.


Oh yeah. And after looking at the house yesterday, we went out for ice cream. Halfway home I notice that Ignatz has some ice cream on his nose, and I mention it to him.

He says, "I'm saving it for later."

Two houses, serendipitously seen

We have an appointment this evening to look at a house I showed you in an earlier post (the little one. The giant ivy-covered fabulous one is already "reserved," whatever that means). They don't put the addresses on their site, but when I called she said it was on (um, let's call it) Churchfield St, and we should just meet at the head of that street, okay? Okay.

Well, the street name and a picture of the house's front is enough for me to find it, so we went up last night after dinner to take a look. And while we were sniffing around, asking eachother if this was the right house, a man working in a nearby yard asked us (in English) "You want to buy that house?" I asked if it was the one that's for sale, and he said "Yes. I also have a house for sale, would you like to see?" And, like, whoa, kismet? Because he doesn't even live there, he was just there doing basic maintenance stuff when we happened along.

So we got to go in and look at his house. Not listed with a realtor, which is good, as the buyer pays the commission here. And the guy seemed nice. And the house has this magical property of being bigger inside than outside. And I love the kitchen, and it has one of those wood-burning oven-thingies for warmth - well, additional warmth plus atmosphere, there's also a regular gas-heating system - and a winter-garden...hang on, that's not English... um, a glassed-in patio, so the plants can be happy in winter? It also has The Magic Word: built-in bookshelves. Ooooooo. And berries in the yard. The yard is tiny, but I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. The kids love having a place to run around, but DrBob hates all the yardwork he has to do. The Sniglet loved the house to bits. Ignatz just wants to stay where we are right now. Forever.

Anyway. Cmhl was right, the house-hunt is a really exciting time, and I'm not sure I want it to be over yet. But I really, really like this house...

Oh right, and we also looked at another one. I think I mentioned that all the houses on this hill were built at the same time (1996 or so), and they're all row houses with 3 units per building. So this is another house just like ours, only up the road a bit, in a quieter and less trafficky location. We went up there to sniff around, and the next-door neighbors just happened to be in their front yard, and they just happen to have a key, so they showed us around. I don't think we'll want to buy it, but what's interesting about that house is that it's quite similar to ours - in size, floorplan, materials, location, age, etc - and they want €259,000 for it, which gives us some idea as to what the owner of our house might ask, should he be willing to sell it to us. So now we know that not only can we afford this house, we would actually have money leftover to change the things we hate about it. Hmmm...

And I already used This Must Be the Place as a recent song du jour of the day, hm. So for today, how about XTC's Mayor of Simpleton.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006


Well, Italy outplayed Germany, and they didn't even cheat this time, unless you count the way they had Torsten Frings removed. I suppose they did rather sort of somewhat deserve this win, but I'm still not happy.

Sheesh. There's just no pleasing some people, eh?

I got new (well, old - well, stuff I been meaning to buy and I finally got around to it) music, so today's song du jour of the day today (ha! I crack me up!) is All Right, Chill Out, by BrainStorm. Not the angry German metalheads, but the happycute Latvian pop group who say "Yeah" a lot.

Oh! How weird is this? Walking from the subway station to the office this morning, I saw a gaggle of little kids, maybe 5 or 6 years old, herded by four women (so some kind of kindergarten field trip, obv.) walking down the street, and they were all singing Jingle Bells! I know they were German kids, because they were pronouncing it "Chingle Belce," but dude. Why where they singing an American Christmas song in July?

Monday, July 03, 2006

status report

Today was the Sniglet's day to check out this Transitional First Grade (a.k.a. Schulkindergarten) thing, get a feel for the space and the routine, meet his teachers, that sort of thing. I left him there for two hours, and when I went to pick him up he said it was his second-best day, after the Playmobil Funpark trip. I am really very pleased, because without his cooperation this could go really badly.

Oh, update on the plum-flinging story: Chuckie did confess his part in the action to his parents, and they gave him a good telling-off, which is appropriate to the crime and his age, so that turned out all right, and Ignatz's resentment is assuaged.

And I'm sort of done with the quarter: that is, if I give up now, I still pass the class. I feel like a total heel for not seeing it all the way through, but the teacher wants to get on with his life, and I have too much else to do right now. I feel really, really bad about it, though. I am generally a pretty conscientious student, and I never feel okay about giving less than my best. But my best is needed for DrBob's book now, and most of my hours belong to my job until next month. So sigh. And drat. But okay.

Question: Germany plays Italy in the semi-final tomorrow. Should I come home and watch it with my husband on our itty-bitty tv screen? Or should I stay in Munich, watch it on a big screen in an apartment full of his friends (without him, because it's a school night and someone has to be home)? Bearing in mind that it will end around 11:30, which is too late to catch the last train home, so I would have to sleep on the futon in his office on Ludwigstrasse, which will be the primary shouting ground for the city's riotously happy Germans or Italians, as the case may be. Hm. Tough choice.

Song du jour of the day: Arclight. By The Fat Lady Sings. Dreadful name for a band, I know, but I can't not love their music. Sorry.

Suburban drama

Well, I wrote a long post, but who has time to read about some stupid suburband kid nuisance. Upshot: Ignatz and (names changed to protect the guilty) his friend Tommy (age 10), Tommy's little brother and the boy next door (Dil and Chuckie, both 4) threw plums at the row of houses across the footpath. Chuckie told on the others while leaving his own part of the story out. I hope it's because he's four, and he'll grow some honor later.

We glared at Ignatz until he gave us the story, which is that he and Tommy found Dil and Chuckie throwing the plums and decided to join in. "You take behavior cues from four-year-olds?" I said. We went to tell Tommy and Dil's parents about it, and Mrs Pickles immediately sidled up to me and says, "did anyone see them? Maybe the people who own the houses don't know yet. We can say it was some other kids." Jeeeez. Mr Pickles made reference to the kinds of things we did at that age, and DrBob pointed out that when we did, the 'rents walloped us, didn't they?

So the big kids had to help clean it up the next day, and Dil's got no computer time for a week (because we can't have him scampering around on a ladder). While they were cleaning, Mrs Pickles was going door-to-door giving everyone her "I can't watch them every minute" speech. JEEEEeeeez. We sent Ignatz over to help, but since they didn't tell us when they were going to do it, he came in at the end and got off pretty lightly. Lesson learned? I hope so, but I doubt it. Also, the soap and the scrubbing and the steam-blaster-thingy um... didn't do the job, not really. There are still blotches on the houses. There are still three sets of parents who now have some serious social ammo, should I ever try to cross them in any way.

There is a possibility that the house we buy will be the one we live in now - in some ways, it would be the sensible choice. But at the moment, I'm not too keen on staying in this neighborhood.

Song du jour of the day: Alphaville. Forever Young.

Sunday, July 02, 2006


Hm. Yesterday was, um. Eventful. The Sniglet was home, and Mr. Post-Op was supposed to be taking it easy but I could not get him to hold still, he was all over the place with his little friends, and running like a mad dog. Soccer, tag, freeze tag, hide and seek (when the seeker is five, and counts thusly: "1...2...13...17... okay, here I come!" hide and seek does involve a lot of running). Argh. What was I supposed to do, sit on him? No, because he would have struggled, and that is not "taking it easy."

In other news, Portugal beat England, minor yay! Because, um, I have a Portugal shirt! Because, er, it was the one in the store that fit me and wasn't white (I don't like to wear white, because my children basically see me as a giant Kleenex, and snerkies really show up on white clothes). Besides, Portugal's the only team left that hasn't won a World Cup yet, and I do hate to see the cup go to the same few countries time after time. Also, as I mentioned, my tolerance for drama queens is slightly higher than my tolerance for thugs, and Rooney - oh, my Gawd, did you SEE him stomp Carvalho's nuts!?! Yeek! On the other hand, once he was sent off, and Beckham was out, and with that decidedly unimpressive goalie, and with England a man short, Portugal still didn't score, which is fairly inexcusable. Seriously, if you can't put a ball past an opponent with that kind of handicap, you really shouldn't have got this far in the tournament. In my own, non-prescriptive, you-go-ahead-and-decide-for-yourself opinion. They're just not up to France's standard.

Oh, man, the France-Brazil match. Major yay there. Zidane was in great form and a miracle to watch. They did deserve their victory, indeed they did. I have nothing against Brazil, I just think they've won too many times (5), and they should give someone else a chance.

Actually, none of that was what I wanted to blog about. Ignatz did a bad, bad thing, and now I'll have to tell you about it tomorrow, because it's late and I have to go to bed.

Song du jour of the day: In a Big Country, by Big Country. They were wicked cool before they sold out and dumped the bagpipes, dude.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Italian "soccer"

Samirah said:
Noooooo! Italy doesnt play dirty, they play creatively! There's a difference you know. And come on, who doesnt play up an injury for extra points/time outs/do-overs? Haven't you ever seen an NFL game? Besides, they killed the Ukraine, absolutely killed them. Italy could have just stood around playing with Francesco Totti's hair and they still would have won. They're just a better team.
Y-yes, there is some truth to your points, other teams do some of those things. The Dutch can be brutal, but when they get hit, they don't play the weenie card. The Portuguese totally rock the Dying Swan act, but they don't usually hurt people - look at the Netherlands-Portugal game, Costinha was booked for a hand ball, Deco got sent off for picking up the ball and walking away with it. Childish and irritating, yes, but not dangerous. Boulahrouz's kick to Ronaldo's leg, though, that could have had some serious consequences. But the Italians do both - they can dish it out, but they can't take it. Hypocrisy. Argh.

I have no general objections to violence in sport - I think it's an essential part of hockey, rugby, or American football, all of which I love watching. But I don't think it belongs in a soccer game, and if the Italians are going to pretend they're hockey players, they should do like the Dutch and at least be men about it.

Hm, so yes the Italians are better at what they do - but I don't think what they do belongs in a soccer game. Besides, Italy is up to its ears in a match-fixing scandal right now, and, I heard over at Bitch, Ph.D that they're not showing any World Cup games on TV except the ones in which Italy plays. Sounds like they love themselves more than the game, if you ask me.

So now, England v. Portugal. Sorry Raindog, but I have to cross my fingers for Portugal this game. I like the England team fine (except for Crouch - WTF - hair pulling? What are you, an 8th-grade girl?), but their fans are making a right nuisance of themselves here in Germany, and we want them to go away.

Song du jour of the day: Só Sei Ser Feliz Assim, Portugal's entry in the 2001 Eurovision Song Contest. It bombed, iirc, but I liked it. It was cute.

sums it up quite well, I think