Some things I did not know

I am still impressed with this thing I do not know, nor ever expect to:  "An eigenvector of a square matrix is a non-zero vector that, when multiplied by the matrix, yields a vector that differs from the original at most by a multiplicative scalar."

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collinear is spelled correctly

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This happened. You really ought to click that link. REALLY OUGHT TO!

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Also, we might be getting a hurricane/thunderstorm/gigantic ball of watery wind-y fury arriving sometime in the next few days.  Whee!!  Must go out and get soy sauce, mouthwash, and carrots.  You know, the ususal emergency list.

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And, lastly, apparently, it's customary now for HS boys to ask HS girls to 'be their girlfriend,' without all that messy business of dating first.  Seems a very efficient way to establish...something?  IDK.  I had one experience like that in my life, and it was....odd.  None of this trying on of the 'dating persona,' just straight into girlfriendom.  Of course, I was young and very insecure then, and today's young women seem VERY secure, so maybe it works for them? 

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That's it from the fireside, as I wait for the text that summons me back to the HS after a FB game to pick up Thing 1. OOPS!  There it is now!

Aaaaaaand, it said 'N is giving me and B a ride home.'  Friends with cars = Mom being totally uncool. 

Another thing I suspected, but did not want to know.

Tiff out.

We do these things, these things we do

Because cats make posts better

Y'all.  Seriously.  This has got to stop.  All this clamoring at my door, hollering and moaning your pitiful (and, for some of you 'spittleful' [you should go get that checked out]) entreaties for me to Just Get Back to Blogging, Would You Already.  I can't STAND it anymore, the din was so dinny that it was hard to do anything but hide in the back of my closet with some old shoes and my French Horn case for protection from the terrible beggary.

You are a convincing lot, you two.  Oh, you know who you are, and for YOU, here's something of what's very exciting and possibly noteworthy going on with me.

1) It takes me about 2 months to write a thank-you note.  If you ever do or get something for me, don't expect anything before that 60-day window.  Just like the billing department where I work, it's all about holding on to worth for the longest time possible before a payout.  That's just good accounting practice, is what that is.

2) At the risk of over-sharing, I'll do it anyhow: Thing 1 has a girlfriend.  I KNOW!!!  Through this I've learned that he's got pretty dang good taste in women.  No slatterns or fancy-women for him, thank goodness.  Phwef!

3) It's possible to spend 50 dollars on pumpkins and associated organic autumnal display matters.  Did it yesterday, on the most perfect fall day ever invented by the gods of weather.  It hit about 65, not a cloud in the sky, the air crisp and the sun warm.  This is the weather I FORCED the Things to got out into with me, away from their beloved electronics and their dark cave of a bedroom.  I am a mean mom like this, with the forcing outdoors and such.  That's what has to happen when frog-marching your family into a memory-making episode.  And, if they don't remember, I have the picture to prove it.  Just one, that's right.  It's all about the efficiency.

4) We met our neighbors last weekend.  After living in this house for over 5 years, we finally met the folks 2 doors down.  We're very careful about this kind of thing, obviously.  Actually, we made them meet us by hosting a block party and luring them in with hand delivered invitations and promises of hotdogs and cornhole.  Who the heck knows what they thought of us at that point, because that can sound a little pervy.  Anyway, it was great to meet folks and hang out for a couple of hours, and maybe get to foster a sense of community in our weird little part of town.  Totally worth the prep time, and with the help of some friends who lent a hand in the preparing for and running said event, it was a practically painless party.  Those are the best kind!  Also, the local food bank was the happy recipient of lots and lots of leftover uncooked dogs and their attendant buns.

5) Have I mentioned that I had to go on thyroid meds a couple of months back?  The old 'roid was giving up in a most spectacular fashion, so I'm levothyroxine-ing it up over here are LOVING the fact that I can now get my hose on with ease and it doesn't take an act of Congress to slide my wedding band off.  Oh, that crazy swelling!  It had gotten really bad right around the time we went to CT in July; something felt really 'off,' and it was.  After about a month on meds the swelling was down and I can only imagine that the unseeable things that go wrong with hypothyroidism were righting themselves.  While I don't love the fact that I'll have to take meds for the rest of my fool life (because you have to remember to take them, see), it's wonderful that they are available, are reasonably cheap (thank you, insurance), and work so well.  Removable shoes FTW (For The Win, y'all).

I hope that you both are doing well and that your worlds are ratcheting along nicely.

With that, Tiff out.

PS - I still haven't fixed that comment thing.  Feel free to leave one anyhow and it'll just get added to the big list.

Time to party!

Seventeen years ago today I was sitting on a surgical glove filled with crushed ice.  It's really the best way to celebrate giving birth, the ice-glove.  Probably TMI, but keep it in mind next time you're faced with discomfort in the girl zone due to, uh, complications of childbirth.  Ice gloves are serious business in that situation.

The ice glove is great when needed, yes, but the best thing was the arrival of Thing 1, a 7 pound 8 ounce 22-inch-long leggy squal of a boy, my heart in someone's tiny body, my love grown ten-fold.  NEVER in my life had I felt so very connected with another human being, never has another human being changed me so utterly.  Complete adoration for that small bundle of human was instant and magnificent. 

The worst thing was maybe the reason for the ice glove, or maybe the upper respiratory infection I got while IN the hospital after his arrival, but I digress (even though I can still recall CLEARLY how amazingly terrible I felt, physically.   Everything hurt, everywhere, and that's even before we launch in to a discussion about trying to nurse.  I've tried to block those memories from surfacing ever again).

So yes, 17 years ago my eldest arrived, 5 days late after nearly a week of labor.  I was ready to have him, but sad to not be pregnant anymore.  While I'd perfected the waddle, I loved the reason for it and the notion of 'baby.'  He is my first, and was an amazement to me, even while still snugly housed in me.  Also, an expert in utero gymnast.  Holy heck did that kid MOVE.  It's nice to think back on.

As a number goes 17 is not a lot, but as time goes it's rather a long stretch when you see how far a person can come in 17 years.  He's nearly a man now, but he will always, always, always be my baby.  My 6-foot, 4-inch, deep voiced, whiskery, blue-eyed, happy, goofy, baby. 

Happy birthday, Thing 1.  I love you tons and bunches.

Getting prepped for senior portraits yesterday...STYLIN'!

Things get beyond me

Somehow, in the hubbub that has been the past few weeks, things have gotten out of hand.

Namely, my left thumbnail.

It's coke-worthy, and I've never even done coke, but addicts of yore are scoping it out and licking their cracked lips feverishly in hope that hey might get to scoop some magic powder of this Snoop Dogg Carrie Fisher nails that's working here.  It's just that good.

I am not a long nail girl, but everyone in a while I'll let one go and forget to gnaw it down to seemly proportion, and then wind up with a blade big enough to move WIND with, and that's not good.

And so it must go.  MY BIG NAIL.

Sleep well.

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Also, would anyone understand and condone the Armor Hot Dog theme song anymore?

Can you comment on this?

Trying out a new comment thingie.  See it down there?  You should try it.  I'm OK with waiting for you to do that.

So, did you try it?

Did it work?

If it works, shout 'Hurray!' with a degree of enthusiasm that's a touch over the line for the average introvert and throw your hands in the air in a jazzy fashion, because that would be appropriate given that the template for this blog is in the dreaded HTML old-school fashion and sometimes chunks break off and I'm not sure where to put them once they do. 

If it didn't work, one of my email addresses is over there on the right - drop me a line and let me know.

'Preciate it.

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For the record, I still loathe the following:

• spiders
• palmetto bugs
• most chocolate-mint things
• political ads (who doesn't?)
• the willfully ignorant
• clothing tags
• getting poked in the ribs
• hot weather
• undercooked chicken
• beets

But it's Friday, and there's little to loathe about that.  So, ray of sunshine and all.

I'm off to run errands and maybe get brave enough to take out the bag of trash that's making the house smell like a diaper pail.  Anyone have great tips on how to temporarily suppress the smell-to-gag reflex?  Because that's what it's going to take...

On that note, Tiff out.