The John Look ?

Right Now... ... I've got a problem. The Writers of the Future workshop is in about a month and my hair looks like something Peter Brady wore in the late seventies. So do I A) Cut my hair; B) Trim back my beard; C) Let my beard get fuller; or D) Something else? [EDITOR'S Note:  There was a poll where folks could vote, but that was seven years ago...]

The Deiter Look I could shave everything back to 1/8th of an inch and give myself a "King Phillip of France II" / Timothy Dalton beard. PROS: very low maintenance. CONS: Mark says it's too bristly.

Stay the Course Unfortunately, I probably won't look like this in a month. Depending on where my hair is on its wave, I'll have another set of "hair wings" or else it will hang down in a mostly behaved fashion. PROS: No drastic encounters with shears. CONS: Mark will complain about long John hairs on the floor.

Patriot & Brewer Um... No.

Ride the Savage Wave Well, OK; I won't look like this in a month, either; more like a year. But this is what the beard looks like when it's fuller. PROS: Fabio hair when the wind blows the right direction. CONS: Mark makes "horse hair" comments.

Hippie Dentist If I start now, I'll have the beard in time for the workshop. I'm guessing my hair's about an inch long in this photo. PROS: Venerable, yet approachable. CONS: Mark will complain the beard pokes him too much.

Winter Frosting As you can see, I am a winter. I think this is Lesbian Haircut #2. As an honorary lesbian, it's OK for me to wear. PROS: Good for fundraising events. CONS: Mark will be more likely to sing "Kumbaya" at the drop of a hat.

Mystic Sage I might be able to pull this off in a month, but I'll only have a two inch ponytail in the back. When I pull my hair back now, the white streak is still mostly there; although in a year or two it will be a brown streak. PROS: With the full beard (and the right robe) I could probably pass as Obi-Wan Kenobi. CONS: Mark will complain about finding hair scrunchies all over the place. OK, and ponytails give me headaches.

Rapunzel This is me, moments before I buzzed my hair back to almost nothing (Arthur was pulling it and it kept falling into... well... I won't go into that). It will probably take me two years to get it this length again, but it gives you an idea of what really long hair and a really short beard look like together. PROS: I am the envy of everyone who wants long hair. CONS: Mark points out that stray strands of hair become Velcroed to my beard .

Whew

OK.

We got some Gorilla Glue, read all the warnings, and the new counter top is stuck on top of the cabinet.

The new sink is secured to the counter top after a round with a rasp and a hack saw and (probably not quite enough) caulk.

The new faucet works wonderfully, as does the water filter and the new drain. But most importantly nothing leaks.

Phew. I got some potato chips to celebrate and now I have to finish cleaning everything.

As I said to the check-out clerk, "...and nobody had to get nailed to anything."

Sink, Part 2

The glue between the cabinet top and the counter top didn't hold.

And we still have to remove about a fingerwidth of wood from the old cabinet before the sink will rest properly.

But I hooked up the hot water feed on the sink so that the new faucet would act as a hot water shutoff valve and we turned on the house's water.

Little did I know that someone had turned the cold water on under the sink.

Luckily Mark heard what he describes as a geyser under the sink and turned it off all the way.

At least I got a shower.

This Old House

Well.

First the hot water shut off under the old kitchen sink wouldn't turn off all the way. Then we couldn't find anything that looked like a shut off valve for the hot water heater. Then when we did find it, it wouldn't turn off all the way, either. We would have turned off the hot water heater and let it drain while we worked on the sink, but the only thing that looked like a hot water heater off switch were two antiquated rheostats left over from a Frankenstein movie. I looked at our breaker switches and none of them was conveniently labled "Hot Water Tank," and I concluded that to turn off the hot water tank I would have had to cut power to the house. Mark found the main shut off for the house, but he couldn't budge it. So then we called the Water Company.

In between all of this, we give ourselves a crash course in home plumbing by reading three library books and the manuals that came with the new sink, the new faucet, and the new water filter.

The nice man from the Water Company took off the metal cover to our house's water meter, took off the concrete jacket the metal cover sat on, reached in, and turned off our water. "So you've just got to believe you can do it," I said. "Yep," he replied, then rode off in his Water Company Truck to do more hydrological good deeds.

So. Meanwhile, we have no water. Period. Arthur has discovered the various plumbing tools we have and got busy asking "What's this?" (translation: "Gee this shiney sharp metal object looks like it would be fun to stick into my eye.") and grabbing the heaviest tool most likely to slip through his tiny fingers and smash onto his toes.

Mark took Arthur away, and I started to take apart the sink. And do some counter top demolation prep. I probably should have taken a photo or to of the original plumbing because I'm pretty sure that we're missing some piping and I'm only vaugly sure how the pipes connect. Anyway, after taking out the old sink and undoing some of the plumbing (which really isn't that much harder than, say, uninstalling the Eudora Email client), I have to go to the hardware store to get a spud wrench, plumber's putty, kitchen sink calk, some more piping, a sink net and drain, a contact adhesive, and a plastic spatula.

The sink is more or less assembled and ready to be put into our new kitchen countertop when Mark and Arthur return (after about about six hours of Mark trying to run Arthur ragged at the playground). We go out for pizza (and so that I can wash my hands), and when we return home, Arthur refuses to fall asleep. This might have something to do with the fact that he said "Damn it," in front of Mark too many times and lost video privileges for the night. Two hours later, I wake up Mark (who has fallen asleep next to Arthur after moving from Arthur's room to the couch and finally our bed) and we get ready to put on the new counter.

So. The new counter is a lovely particle board and formica construction. It is a lovely color that goes incredibly well with our cabinetry and, in fact, the rest of the house. The cabinet it rests on is 1950's tongue and groove construction of a quality that is very expensive now adays and out of wood that you simply can't get any more. If we had a larger budget, we'd be preserving the cabinetry a little better. Now that Arthur's asleep, we can glue the new top to the old cabinets, with the theory that if we want to restore things, we can remove the new top. Mark applies some contact cement, we wait, and...

...the hole for the sink in the new counter top doesn't exactly match the hole in the old countertop. Mark pulls out a rasp and starts to work on the exposed wood on the old cabinet that is preventing the sink from resting properly on the new counter top.

We still don't have any running water. It's a good think that I did a load of Arthur's dirty laundry before this all started.

New Sink

Can't Blog.

New Sink. Must Install.

Cheesy Friezes

Arthur has discovered "Fox in Sox." For some reason, "Luke Luck Licks Lakes" is his favorite section of the book -- although he also likes the "Tweedle Beatles." I think the reason Arthur like Luke Luck is that it gives him an excuse to lick things. Like windows. Or the floor.

I was working on a parody that went along the line of "When John sees cheesy friezes he is pleased." But then Mark started going off about the friezes in a church we saw in Ithaca and I stopped.

In related news, we got a baby night off and went to see Arthur Honegger's King David. It was like going to a church play with really good musicians. The music itself was "Stravinski Lite" and the costumes -- well, it looked like someone found a bunch of flower pots, faux skins, and old draperies (at least the tassles on everything were fun, even if it did appear that the actors were wearing black sneakers) -- Oh, yes, and a stash of fake beards.

In some ways the text and the costuming were depressing in the same way the Assyrian friezes I've seen in museums is depressing -- very clannish and all about who smote who and how many people were killed. There were some fun parts: Goliath was a cool looking puppet, and the Witch of Endor was high drama. Musically, the best parts were in the second act: the "Song of the Daughters of Isreal" and "The Dance Before the Ark."

Oh! And we made a discovery. The old Savore Tea Salon has become a Bar and Hair Salon. Perhaps I'll get coifed and a margareta.

Teeth and Lightning

Yesterday I got some more writing done. It was sort of productive, in that I realized I needed to get my characters down on the planet much sooner -- which means a scene re-write.

Yesterday we had a little bit of thunder and lightning. It seems much cooler today, and less humid.

Arthur's teeth continue to bother him with the result that his sleep cycles are going all over the place.

Good Writing Day

Yesterday was a good writing day. I managed to get three stories into the mail; between the PHP script I wrote to suggest markets and some on-line resources I spent my time actually sending stories instead of puzzling over where to send them.

I got a little bit further on a short story I'm working on; the set-up is there, and I have a good idea for the ending. Typically, I need to make sure I have more of the characters' emotions on the page -- this is challenging because they're really alien and I'm noticing how much I rely on snorts, sighs, grins and shrugs; none of which my aliens can do.

The weather here is supposed to be hot (in the 90's) but last night a lightning storm rolled in and cooled things off. If we're really good with open windows and a box fan, we can get the house cooled down in the morning and it will stay about ten to fifteen degrees cooler than the outside temperature.

Arthur has been sleeping long hours lately. I imagine there's another tooth looming in our future.

News Bites

I got a bio returned to me the other day. I'm assuming that someone thought I had made a typo of some sort, but they changed "lives with husband and son" to "lives with wife and son."

As Mark would say, little reminders like this are always instructive.

In other news...

Arthur's getting new teeth. The poor thing is very cranky. He's even learned the phrase, "cranky baby," which he says when he hasn't passed out from the effort of pushing molars through his gums.

The flea-death we put on Muriell has made Muriell a kind of walking "Graveyard of the Fleas." This is all very well and good as far as it goes, except that Muriell likes to shed tiny little convulsing members of Ctenocephalides felis on our sofas, lounges and beds.

It doesn't improve our home decor, but at least we can tell where she's been by the trail of insect carnage.

Independence Weddings

July 4th means one thing. Relatives and friends who live far away come to visit after attending someone else's wedding.

My mother's sister's daughter, Laura, and her family visited. So we had a four generations picture taken at my folk's house. The youngest person, Sona, was nine months old. The oldest, my grandmother, was ninety-eight. Sona and Arthur got along well. Mark and I traded baby stories with Laura and Sameer.

After everyone left, I read "The Atlantic Magazine" to my grandmother. I think we both would have been happier with a "Better Homes and Gardens."


Mark's oldest sister (and Arthur's biological grandmother) Melora, arrived at our house the third. We'd seen her when we visited Suffern last May, but she was able to get only one day of vacation. This was a longer visit and we showed her around town.

When Arthur was born, Melora (and Veronica) spent time with Jenn and Mark W's family. We know a lot of people named Mark. Mark H lives in Seattle. Another Mark H lives in Northfield. Mark even once went on a double-date with three other Marks. It can get confusing, and Mark W has graciously allowed himself to be named "Bubba."

Bubba and Jenn are great; not only have they rescued Arthur from two flu-ridden dads, they let us blow things up in their driveway. Mark W used to say, "It's not a real fire until someone gets singed."

July 4 Report

The afternoon of the Fourth, we went to our friend's house. A few years back, we drew a picture of Godzilla and had rolling tanks shoot firecrackers into it. Two years ago we made a kind of vampire baby with firecrackers in its really huge diaper -- you can imagine what happened when the tanks attacked that.

This year we made an Abba Train. It was a left-over from Arthur's birthday party. Well. OK. We added Abba that morning because one of Arthur's favorite new songs is "Voulez Vou."

Mark didn't buy any tanks (or chickens) this year. He bought smoke bombs and killer bees.

First we put in a smoke bomb. It made yellow smoke. We fixed it so that half of Abba was smoking on the train.

Afte the smoke cleared, we put in the killer bees. Mark swears that he lined up the fireworks with the train's smoke stack.

Arthur was mostly OK with the train catching fire, but we did have to assure him that we'd make a new train later. He reminds us several times a day. "Train. Smoke coming out."

Hmmm. I can hear the dreams now: "I drempt I built this train for my date, but then my Dads set it on fire." Better put $5 into the therapy fund.

Visitations

Mark's sister, Melora, has been visiting from New York for the last few days; so I haven't had much time for e-mail or blogging or anything. I did get a good writing session in the first evening she arrived.

---

Scene: Arthur, Mark, John and Melora are walking back from the store.

Melora (looking concerned): "Where's the groceries?"

John (turning sideways to display shoulder bag): "They're in my bag."

Mark (holding Arthur): "John's like a kangaroo."

John: "Kangaroo?"

---

Arthur enjoyed seeing her and was sad when we pulled away from the airport. Very likely he will ask for her when he wakes up tomorrow.

In other news

• Muriel snuck out of the house and as a result has fleas
• I got a short story rejection from The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction
• Arthur is warming up to the water slide at the local pool
• Arthur had his first underwater --um-- adventure at the same pool
• My Sister is visiting my folks (and cleaning out their garage
• It's July, which means the weather is going to be in the 90's (ugg)
• I've just discovered Connie Willis, and so far she's great

The Smokers on the Bus...

Obligatory Springfield post:

Mark (to man on the bus going to Springfield): "Pardon me, sir, but I don't think you realize that cigarette behind your ear isn't out."

Arthur: "Smoke."

Invocation...

... to The Goddess as Janis Joplin

(faces East and lights green candle)

Oh Goddess, won't you send me
a whole lot of cash
the money I've got is a-going too fast
prove that you love me with funds that will last
so Goddess, won't you send me
a whole lot of cash


(faces South and lights red candle)

Oh Goddess, won't you bring me
a really hot night
my honey and me, well, we just had a fight
send me a new one, a lover who's right
Oh Goddess, won't you bring me
a really hot night.


(faces West and lights light blue candle)

Oh Goddess, won't you send me
some true inner peace
my life is a mess and I'm needing surcease
I know I can't fix it, no, not in the least
So Oh Goddess, won't you send me
some true inner peace.


(faces North and lights purple candle)

Oh Goddess, won't you save me
from psychic attack.
Bad people are out there, they're giving me flak.
Give me protection, and give them a smack.
Oh Goddess, won't you save me
from psychic attack.

Child of the 70's

Scene: Late afternoon at the house. Mark has been home for a quarter of an hour.

John: "Honey, have you been playing a lot of ABBA lately?"

Mark: "No. Why do you ask?"

John: "Well, Arthur started singing 'Voulez Vous.'"

Arthur: "Aha! Aha!"

Mark: "John, you sing 'Voulez Vous' all the time."

John (incredulous): "I do?"

Arthur: "Shake your booty, shake your booty."

John: "At least I didn't teach him that.