Race fans get presented with an array of appealing products, the latest of which is pictured here. That there is a grill, a 1:1 scale version of a racing engine. Saw the ad on SpeedTV, and checked out the website, an unfortunately Flash-laden affair.
Check it out: Hot Rod Grills.
Even MLB likes it. I like it. I don’t need one. I want one.
-k-
My eldest granddaughter turns 18 on Feb 29th. There not being a Feb 29 this year, we observe her b-day near the end of the month.
This is no longer the little girl I took for her first ride on the merry-go-round1, or who helped Great Grandma Nelson “rearrange” her cupboards, or who, wearing a cute little straw hat, took my hand as I walked her down the concourse of the Wichita airport. She’s no longer the Barney loving toddler, whose eyes lit up, and who said “Barn-bee” when I presented her a stuffed rendition of the purple monster.
Pardon my stroll down memory lane, and waxing a tad nostalgic. Ericka is now a beautiful young lady, more of a world traveller than I’ll ever be2, and who points out websites where Grandma and I can watch TV shows we missed and forgot to Tivo. She is also better at HTML than I am. Far better.
She’s graduating from high school in June; so I can start dreading TSA indignities as we make plans to attend3. But we’re planning to be there.
I’d like to say “Happy Birthday, and make your Grandpa proud.” But that is selfish on my part; it’s her life to live, and if she can do that, remain happy, and be the best person she can be, while maintaining that beautiful smile you see, that will make this old Grandpa very proud indeed.
Happy Birthday, Ericka Nichole!
-k-
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Does giving up watching the NASCAR Truck Race so one’s spouse can watch the Olympic opening ceremony count?1
If so, then I am truly a great catch. I suppose I still have to get a card and flowers. As though the Daytona 500 on Valentine’s Day isn’t enough.
-k-
UPDATE: The Truck race rained out, and runs after the Nationwide race tonight. My selflessness has been rewarded.
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Happy New Year, y’all. Today was my first day back at $DAYJOB, and I’d frankly be hard pressed to say that we haven’t been stuck with a used year. This could be the year that I define a new $DAYJOB metric, or maybe two. The first is $DAYJOB TDS1, and the second would be $DAYJOB MIS2. Then, given the effort expended in the formalizing of these metrics, along with the needed data collection, it just may be easier to move to $DAYJOB++.
Anyhow, we’re now running the latest WordPress here in tbbsLand, WordPress 2.9.1. And, no WP’s automatic uppgrade didn’t work for me – again. But, the manual process is quick, and fairly effortless. And, yes, that includes a database backup, as well as full file backup, prior to upgrading.
Happy New Year! Y’all come back, now. I’ll try to be more attentive to this old waste of pixels.
-k-
I’m cold, wet, and tired. Two hours on the handle of a snow shovel is not my idea of fun. The dig, traipse across the street, dump, repeat ritual behind the aught-one Saturn, combined with some Midwest-learned knowledge of “rocking” a car broke it free, and I was able to head around the corner for beers and smokes`supplies. MLB tidied up my parking spot while I was out.
My back has survived fine, my arm is sore, and I was not-too-eagerly contemplating the prospect of another two hours to extricate MLB’s car Galumping through knee-deep snow means cold, wet feet, which are more bothersome to me than any physical aches and pains.
On my arrival back from the store, MLB informed me that an enterprising neighbor had ventured out to a local temp employment agency 7-11 and had engaged the services of a couple of workers, who for the entirely reasonable sum of $15/hour (cash preferred), will slick out the remainder of our snow, scoop out a path to the neighbor’s front door, and clean out the neighbor’s vacant parking spot before they return tomorrow. What a bargain! Several other neighbors have engaged the services of these gentlemen, and are now presumably comfortably warm and in front of the teevee.
-k-
As in still snowing, and clear up to your ass.
Lucky me, I get to scoop a path across the deck seen in the picture a few posts back. The satellite dish is atop the shed; we’ve lost the signal. Being snowbound and teevee-less is an intolerable combination. A light brooming off of the dish should restore service. Yet another reason we didn’t roof-mount the dish. If it were there, we’d have teevee reception back about spring thaw time, if it were up to me to tend to it.
-k-
Your forbearance is humbly requested, while I post yet another snow photo. This is a view out tbbs WorldHQ’s front door, which reveals my covered ’01 Saturn. We think MLB’s ’08 is under the pile mid-photo, and our neighbor’s VW is visible on the right.
There’s evidence there that a neighbourhood Good Samaritan, who presumably is equipped with a snow blower, has cleared some of the sidewalk out front. I’ll make it a point to treat this person to a few beers, or better yet, a shot of good single-barrel bourbon, if I can ascertain their identity.
The Big Dig starts tomorrow; the sidewalk leading to our front door is at the top of the list. Then the stretch of walk in front of our place. Then a path to the cars; there’s a grass strip between the curb and sidewalk. I never mind those parts too much. With snow of this depth, scooping paths on the driver’s side of the cars is necessary. And that’s the part that I don’t like; I have to traipse across the street to empty the shovel, the yard being full after the sidewalk scooping. Scoop, traipse, dump, repeat. Then, pushing the snow off the cars leaves another passel to be relocated across the street.
Our next door neighbors are off on a cruise and are due back on Monday, so I’m duty-bound to scoop the walks leading to their house, so they will have a clear path. They are good neighbors, quiet, attentive without nosiness, just like I like. So we help each other out.
So, all in all, tomorrow promises to be a day of more physical exertion than befits a confirmed couch potato. I have the single-barrel bourbon and Ben Gay to look forward to at the end of the efforts. Is that inspiration, or what?
-k-
When life sends you snow, you blog about it. With pictures. This one reveals our outside Sirius Satellite Radio antenna. This is needed to get any kind of reliable signal at all; here in the underbelly of our three-level townhouse, the indoor antenna just doesn’t cut it.
I think it looks like a little Christmas tree. The snow accumulation on top of the fence rail is gettin’ right up there as well.
And, in the interest of complete reporting, I just fired up the Sirius receiver, and it still gets a signal, and plays all those great country tunes I love to hear.
For now, though, we’re back to watching Texas basketball, the Kansas Jayhawks already having dispatched Michigan in the previous game.
I really don’t mind being snowed in; the thoughts of the Big Dig which inevitably ensue detract from the comfort of being comfortably ensconced with MLB and our faithful cat here at tbbs WorldHQ.
For now, I’ll revel in the comfortable ensconcement, which probably isn’t a word. But you understand my meaning.
-k-
The view of the deck, taken just a few minutes ago. That white conical device is our Brinkmann Smoker, under a fresh blanket of the white stuff. To the right is the black Weber Kettle grill, sporting the latest in white hattery. We’re expecting 10-18″ before this storm moves on up the coast, and we’re currently under a blizzard warning; winds are supposed to get gusty as the front moves on.
I’m reevaluating all the I Love Four Seasons1 statements that I’ve ever made. In some sense, I stand by that statement. The real reevaluation starts tomorrow, when I take shovel in hand to begin the Big Dig.
-k-
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The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement.
–Les Nessman
Maybe that’s what happens in Cincinnati; here in NoVA, our turkey is atop a bunch of charcoal and hickory chunks; the smoke wafts upward towards the cold, cloudy, gray sky, and blends in nicely.
Not exactly Over the River and Through the Woods, but good enough for old five and dimers like me.
Happy Thanksgiving!
-k-