Silliness and geekdom
Jun. 11th, 2007 03:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
femkes_folliesAnd now, on a lighter note....
Darling and I sort of tooled around Grand Rapids about a week ago with no particular plans. I did finally take it in to my head to help him improve his kit at least as much as I am able. So we talked a bit about what he wanted for a surcoat. The generalized conclusion was: He had no clue. Well, when one is in the dark regarding armor and trappings, the resource of choice is generally Osprey publications. For those of you who aren't familiar, Osprey publishes short books with many illustrations and well-researched texts on a narrow period of time and geography.
So, needless to say, there are LOTS of Osprey titles and you need a very specific book. First stop, Barnes and Noble. They have a couple titles, but all WWII era. I'm musing on this, in the car and ask him "What about a Hobby Shop?" Darling, after all, is the one who actually played D&D in college and has been known to have intelligence on these things. "No, they wouldn't bother with Osprey," he says, with confidence. Well, I'm sick, so he's humoring me, and I get him to stop in at Ryder's anyway. I state, for the record, that the Ryder's Hobby Shop in Grand Rapids in fact stocks three full Carousels of Osprey books, plus a few stragglers. It took him nearly 30 minutes to commit to a specific book. ;-) Luckily, they had a toy train table out for the Muffin to play with, so she was happy, too. I love driving home sporting an "I told you so" grin. The Alpha Geek has failed.
Less to my credit, on cross-examination I did have to admit that there are geeky traits in my own personality. At the age of 3 or 4 I actually owned a set of Battlestar Gallactica colorforms. *blush*
Then came the Muffin's dance recital. Darling took her to the dress rehearsal, since I was on the couch with no intention of moving. At rehearsal, our recalcitrant child actually did a fair portion of the routine. We resolved to put more faith in the Dance instructor, and looked forward to the actual recital.
On recital night, my parents came 2 1/2 hours to attend. Now, we have been firmly told to bring the Muffin up to the dressing room and leave her there until after the performance. I drop her off with her goody bag and stay for a bit until I think she's settled. Then I return to my seat. Where my father informs me that he has buried his minivan in the sugar sand just off the parking lot. It seems other people were parking on what looked like an empty lot, so he followed. And got stuck. To make it worse, from his perspective, some good samaritan tried to pull him out and got his Ford Explorer stuck. Dad was feeling stupid, guilty, and crabby.
On with the show - after multiple numbers (too many of which were "hip-hop" - never will I pay money for my child to take "hip-hop" dance lessons), out comes her class. Warning sign number one: One of the instructors carries the Muffin out. She puts her down, and Her Imperial Adorableness sits on the end of the stage with her chin in her hands and her knees up above her ears, sulking in Olympic form for the whole piece. Luckily, the result was adorable enough to make Miss I-don't-wanna-and-you-can't-make-me the star of the show. *sigh*
At intermission, I go collect my child - who is sobbing in the corner, utterly unsupervised, and out we go to deal with the vehicular problems. Note: Severe reconsideration of dance lessons and/or recital next year.
As it turns out, approximately half a dozen cars are stuck in the sand. So, after watching a wrecker haul out another woman's car, Dad flags him down and has his towed out of the Quicksand. Then, Dad decides that he can't in good conscience leave the Ford Explorer that got stuck trying to pull HIM out without assistance. Luckily, the owner's friend has also left the recital and reports that he always leaves the key in the vehicle. So Dad has the wrecker's driver pop the door and also tow out the Explorer at his expense. *l* Dad has always been a good doobie. You have to love him.
Oh, and the Muffin, when taken to Barnes and Noble yesterday, made a beeline for the stage and performed the dance routine she had declined to be involved with for her recital. *sigh* She's just a wee bit contrary.
I'm also enjoying a bit of floral wealth.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ablackram brought me a bouquet of flowers this weekend when she stopped by to fit me for my new cote. She also brought the Muffin a bouquet of carnations for the recital. Muffin was Pleased (TM). (Oh, and I wouldn't get too too excited about getting at the gown just yet, m'dear. I'm already 5#'s down and still have no appetite to speak of. I think maybe too much fentanyl in the system yet. Heading for heroin chic?) Not to be outdone, Boss Lady left a Man Eating Begonia on my desk this morning. I'm not sure quite where to put it at home where it won't eat the mailman.
So I'm trying to get out and about again, rather than sitting at home and "moping" (Darling's word, this AM). Though I'm still feeling somewhat antisocial. Border War holds no appeal and I'm not sure how many people now knew I WAS pregnant that I'll have to explain things to that I'm not in the mood to discuss at all. Skipped church yesterday both to sleep in and because my OB and his wife are also members. There is a limit to how much sympathy I could tolerate without tears - and I don't like to cry in public. My little cousin's Open House is fast approaching and THAT doesn't sound like fun at the moment either. Right now, I'm supposed to be on call, and really lack motivation to try to get anybody to trade. Hopefully this too shall pass.
Darling and I sort of tooled around Grand Rapids about a week ago with no particular plans. I did finally take it in to my head to help him improve his kit at least as much as I am able. So we talked a bit about what he wanted for a surcoat. The generalized conclusion was: He had no clue. Well, when one is in the dark regarding armor and trappings, the resource of choice is generally Osprey publications. For those of you who aren't familiar, Osprey publishes short books with many illustrations and well-researched texts on a narrow period of time and geography.
So, needless to say, there are LOTS of Osprey titles and you need a very specific book. First stop, Barnes and Noble. They have a couple titles, but all WWII era. I'm musing on this, in the car and ask him "What about a Hobby Shop?" Darling, after all, is the one who actually played D&D in college and has been known to have intelligence on these things. "No, they wouldn't bother with Osprey," he says, with confidence. Well, I'm sick, so he's humoring me, and I get him to stop in at Ryder's anyway. I state, for the record, that the Ryder's Hobby Shop in Grand Rapids in fact stocks three full Carousels of Osprey books, plus a few stragglers. It took him nearly 30 minutes to commit to a specific book. ;-) Luckily, they had a toy train table out for the Muffin to play with, so she was happy, too. I love driving home sporting an "I told you so" grin. The Alpha Geek has failed.
Less to my credit, on cross-examination I did have to admit that there are geeky traits in my own personality. At the age of 3 or 4 I actually owned a set of Battlestar Gallactica colorforms. *blush*
Then came the Muffin's dance recital. Darling took her to the dress rehearsal, since I was on the couch with no intention of moving. At rehearsal, our recalcitrant child actually did a fair portion of the routine. We resolved to put more faith in the Dance instructor, and looked forward to the actual recital.
On recital night, my parents came 2 1/2 hours to attend. Now, we have been firmly told to bring the Muffin up to the dressing room and leave her there until after the performance. I drop her off with her goody bag and stay for a bit until I think she's settled. Then I return to my seat. Where my father informs me that he has buried his minivan in the sugar sand just off the parking lot. It seems other people were parking on what looked like an empty lot, so he followed. And got stuck. To make it worse, from his perspective, some good samaritan tried to pull him out and got his Ford Explorer stuck. Dad was feeling stupid, guilty, and crabby.
On with the show - after multiple numbers (too many of which were "hip-hop" - never will I pay money for my child to take "hip-hop" dance lessons), out comes her class. Warning sign number one: One of the instructors carries the Muffin out. She puts her down, and Her Imperial Adorableness sits on the end of the stage with her chin in her hands and her knees up above her ears, sulking in Olympic form for the whole piece. Luckily, the result was adorable enough to make Miss I-don't-wanna-and-you-can't-make-me the star of the show. *sigh*
At intermission, I go collect my child - who is sobbing in the corner, utterly unsupervised, and out we go to deal with the vehicular problems. Note: Severe reconsideration of dance lessons and/or recital next year.
As it turns out, approximately half a dozen cars are stuck in the sand. So, after watching a wrecker haul out another woman's car, Dad flags him down and has his towed out of the Quicksand. Then, Dad decides that he can't in good conscience leave the Ford Explorer that got stuck trying to pull HIM out without assistance. Luckily, the owner's friend has also left the recital and reports that he always leaves the key in the vehicle. So Dad has the wrecker's driver pop the door and also tow out the Explorer at his expense. *l* Dad has always been a good doobie. You have to love him.
Oh, and the Muffin, when taken to Barnes and Noble yesterday, made a beeline for the stage and performed the dance routine she had declined to be involved with for her recital. *sigh* She's just a wee bit contrary.
I'm also enjoying a bit of floral wealth.
ablackram brought me a bouquet of flowers this weekend when she stopped by to fit me for my new cote. She also brought the Muffin a bouquet of carnations for the recital. Muffin was Pleased (TM). (Oh, and I wouldn't get too too excited about getting at the gown just yet, m'dear. I'm already 5#'s down and still have no appetite to speak of. I think maybe too much fentanyl in the system yet. Heading for heroin chic?) Not to be outdone, Boss Lady left a Man Eating Begonia on my desk this morning. I'm not sure quite where to put it at home where it won't eat the mailman.So I'm trying to get out and about again, rather than sitting at home and "moping" (Darling's word, this AM). Though I'm still feeling somewhat antisocial. Border War holds no appeal and I'm not sure how many people now knew I WAS pregnant that I'll have to explain things to that I'm not in the mood to discuss at all. Skipped church yesterday both to sleep in and because my OB and his wife are also members. There is a limit to how much sympathy I could tolerate without tears - and I don't like to cry in public. My little cousin's Open House is fast approaching and THAT doesn't sound like fun at the moment either. Right now, I'm supposed to be on call, and really lack motivation to try to get anybody to trade. Hopefully this too shall pass.
