Set another place at the table...

...my wonderful family is expanding! My brother and sister-in-law are expecting a baby in the summer. Rock on!

Look what I got for Christmas!

Feeling envious?

That's right, it's a Banana Guard.

I also received these unique stickers:

Let the adhesion begin!

I hope that you all had a terrific holiday. While I was spoiled with gifts, the best present I could ever ask for is one that I have all year long: a truly wonderful family. (Yes, Scott, that includes you.)

Happy holidays to one and all!

Tadaaaaa!

Calamity loves power tools.

My access to power tools has been severely restricted ever since Scott caught me attempting to drill into a cement chimney using a spade bit. He relented somewhat this past summer and allowed me to use his father's power washer. I got a wee bit messy, but man was it fun!

Because I have been known to injure myself with tools as simple as tampers and scissors, I was surprised and delighted when Scott permitted me to use some of the equipment at the machine shop where he works. I used the grinder, the paint gun, and even the horizontal band saw! Whoohoo! If you look closely you will see not one, not two but three hand-mangling warnings on the band saw.

Why, you might ask, would Scott be so reckless as to allow me to operate such dangerous machinery? Was it because I have a kick-ass life insurance policy? Was it because I had corrected his grammar just one too many times? No, it was because I really wanted to have a hand in creating a gate for my parents for Christmas. Here are a few photos of the work in progress.

We installed the gate this evening but neglected to take photographs. Stay tuned for photos of the completed project.

Grounded for a decade?

Once upon a time when my brother and I were little, we grew bored while shopping with our parents. We wandered off to search for amusement in the aisles of Sears. As we passed an escalator carrying shoppers down from the floor above, one of us may or may not have pressed the emergency stop button. The escalator shuddered to a halt. "Great," one of the passengers muttered. "Now we'll be stuck here 'til Tuesday."

I certainly don't remember pressing that button, and I'm sure that my brother doesn't, either, but I know there's one child out there who will never be allowed to forget the time he or she pushed a forbidden button.

Ed. Note: Damn, that story was a lot funnier before they corrected it.

One of my all-time favourites

I'm so Googlable.

When I installed Sitemeter on my blog many moons ago, I never realized just how much fun it would be. Not only do Sitemeter statistics tell me where my readers are located, they also reveal what search terms brought readers to my site. For example, someone in Dexter, Michigan found my blog by Googling, "when was albert einstein potty trained?" The answer to that question does not reside on my blog, but I'm glad that you asked, Dexter.

Einstein, the potty years

Somebody in Karraganbah, New South Wales, Australia happened upon my blog after Googling, "under the heading like a bowl full of jelly," perhaps in search of something related to Saint Nick. Another Aussie, this one from Perth, ended up on my blog after Googling "who wears muumuus." Good question, Perth. Who does wear muumuus? I would, if only I had the right occasion.

I see that the folks at the Pentagon are spending their time productively, as an individual using the ISP Army Information Systems Command-Pentagon arrived at my site by Googling the Emo Philips quote, "A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kickboxing."

"Calvin monkey brains" was the phrase that led someone from Atlanta, Georgia to my page, while a search for images of a "fat butt" was the starting point for an employee at an investment management firm in Godfrey, Illinois.

And a shout out to all my fans in Prague, Czech Republic, where a Googler found me using the terms "soiled the bed" and "passed out."

Potty-training, fatt butts and bed-soiling... Classy blog I've got here, no?

Needed: a good, hot bath

Not everyone enjoys snow as much as Ferris does. I know I don't. Scott and I dragged ourselves out of bed this morning, layered on the winter clothing and headed outside to shovel. And shovel. And shovel. And shovel. We do not have a large property, but the snow lay in heavy, densely packed drifts and it took us hours to clear the sidewalk and driveway. Our only break was to stop and help a man push his pick-up truck, which had died a sad, sputtering death in front of our house. When Scott and I approached him, the man looked at Scott (6'1", in shape), then looked at me (5'4", round in shape) and nodded in my direction. He said, "You can drive." "That's what you think," I replied.

It's hard to crash a vehicle that is stuck in a snowdrift, and I'm pleased to say that we moved it a full three feet without hitting a thing. I may have cranked the wheel a bit too far, however, as I turned the truck just enough to block the path of an oncoming snowplow. The plow turned around and retreated, leaving our section of road unplowed. You're welcome, neighbours!

I hopped out of the cab and helped push, since we were obviously better off with no driver at all than with me at the wheel. We only managed to move the truck about two more feet before giving up. Scott and I resumed shovelling while the truck's owner climbed back in the cab to await a tow truck.

Between the truck-pushing and the snow-shovelling, my back is aching. I'd love to take a long, relaxing bath, but that would necessitate cleaning the bathtub first, which would mean leaning over and/or crouching. No can do. Note to self: next time, clean bathtub, then shovel.