Like Harry Potter, but with a girl as the hero discovering her gifts

Are you one of the legions of Harry Potter fans? Yeah, me too. But even if you've had it with precocious, underappreciated youngsters discovering their gifts, give "The Wee Free Men," by Terry Pratchett, a try. It's a terrific celebration of girlhood, of coming into one's own, and of loving the place where you're from and the people who've brought you into being. Tiffany Aching should by rights be as well known as Mr. Lightning Scar.

It's also about some hiliarous little guys with a weakness for drinking and thieving and ridiculous strengths in just about every other area. (I found myself growing attached to Rob Anybody and Smaller Than Medium Sized Jock But Bigger Than Wee Jock Jock, which becomes amazingly easy to say and starts to seem quite right after a few dozen pages).

Who's the big bad? Let's just say that the fairy godmother ain't as sweet as you might think.

There are more books by the author and more books in the series. I look forward to getting lost in them.

Here's a review:

http://www.scifidimensions.com/Jun03/weefreemen.htm

Fun with kidvid stars (Thomas meets Buffy, Bob the Builder becomes Bob the Raver)

Buffy meets Thomas the Tank Engine ... wow, hard to believe that there is a mashup featuring two such divergent, yet so important in my life, elements of pop culture:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsiNDLCkdjM


OK, here is Bob the Builder as a raver, sort of. Good times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxybaKPCrbc

The latest aches

So, played broomball again last night. And this time, I tweaked my hip flexor about five minutes in. I also took a ball to the face, so it was a good thing that I took off my glasses.

I decided to be the ref the rest of the way, which gave me something of a break. Damn, I am old. I may not play this game again, but I'm glad I'm getting a taste of the culture. And that culture includes a very Hooters-esque T-shirt for our team, called "Search Inside the Broom." The word "BROOM" is written in that familiar orange font, with an owl looking through the Os. So I said: "I want a size L, so it's nice and tight across my brooms. The boys laughed nervously.

Anyway, the big tourney is Sunday, at the company picnic. The roster is getting shorter and shorter, which means I may have to play more than I probably should. We'll see.

Eddie says "take my picture"! OK, buddy ... and note the beloved Cars shirt, which has been somewhat supplanted by the glory of Thomas

From Bezos to sex, space news abounds today

http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/278627_space24.html

Report details Bezos' plans for private spaceport
Amazon founder's Texas ranch would be launch site

By MICHAEL GRACZYK
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
A spacecraft that Amazon.com founder Jeff Bezos is bankrolling would take off vertically from a private West Texas spaceport, but also would land vertically, according to an environmental report that offers a glimpse into the secretive plans.
The craft would hit an altitude of about 325,000 feet -- or almost 62 miles -- before descending and restarting its engine for a "precision vertical powered landing on the landing pad" in sparsely populated Culberson County, about 125 miles east of El Paso.



And then there is this, from MSNBC (which makes "hotter and wetter" sound like a bad thing):

Outer-space sex carries complications
Experts say new devices and data would be needed to hit the zero-G-spot
By Alan Boyle
Science editor
MSNBC

LAS VEGAS - Having sex in the weightlessness of outer space is the stuff of urban legends and romantic fantasy — but experts say that there would be definite downsides as well.
Spacesickness, for instance. And the difficulty of choreographing intimacy. And the potential for sweat and other bodily fluids to, um, get in the way.
"The fantasy might be vastly superior to the reality," NASA physician Jim Logan said here Sunday at the Space Frontier Foundation's NewSpace 2006 conference. Nevertheless, Logan and others say the study of sex and other biological basics in outer space will be crucial to humanity's long-term push into the final frontier.
"Sex in space is not just a good idea, it's survival," said Vanna Bonta, a writer who blends romance with space travel and quantum physics in the novel "Flight."
Sex in the space environment has long been a source of rumor and speculation: Several years ago, one author claimed that NASA had conducted a study of sexual behavior during a space shuttle mission, sparking a quick round of denials. Today, NASA follows something of a "don't ask, don't tell" policy on the subject — leading Logan to stress that he was not representing the space agency at Sunday's panel discussion.
The subject is coming to the fore again now for several reasons — including next month's publication of a book by Laura Woodmansee titled "Sex in Space," as well as billionaire Robert Bigelow's plan to host research into animal propagation on his commercial space modules.
After all, sometime in the next decade Bigelow Aerospace envisions putting a hotel complex in orbit, "where people will probably be recreating and having sex," Bonta said.
Woodmansee said sex would be "the killer app of space tourism ... because every couple who goes up there, or threesome or whatever their personal choice is, is going to want to try this."
However, off-Earth romantics will have to cope with some practical challenges:
Sex in space would likely be "hotter and wetter" than on Earth, Bonta said, because in zero-G there is no natural convection to carry away body heat. Also, scientists have found that people tend to perspire more in microgravity. The moisture associated with sexual congress could pool as floating droplets.
The physics of zero-G make the mechanics of sex more complicated. Bonta said it was challenging even to kiss her husband during a zero-G simulation flight they took recently. "You actually have to struggle to connect and stay connected," she recalled. Partners would have to be anchored to the wall and/or to each other. To address that need, Bonta has come up with her own design for garments equipped with strategically placed Velcro strips and zippers.
Although zero-G could be a boon for saggy body parts, Bonta said males might notice a "slight decrease" in penis size due to the lower blood pressure that humans experience in microgravity.
Romantics will also need to guard against the type of motion sickness that space travelers often encounter, especially if they get too adventurous right off. "Save the acrobatics for post-play vs. foreplay," Bonta advised.
For all these reasons, Logan said spontaneous sex in space could be "a little underwhelming."
"It's a pretty messy environment, when you think about it," he said. "And for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. However ... I can well imagine how compelling, inspiring, and quite frankly stimulating choreographed sex in zero-G might be in the hands of a skilled and talented cinematographer with appropriate lighting and music."
When the crowd tittered, Logan added, "I'm not kidding: Sex in zero-G is going to have to be more or less choreographed. Otherwise it's just going to be a wild flail."
Bonta suggested that a honeymoon space hotel could offer specially designed environments to enhance zero-G intimacy — for instance, "hydro rooms" filled with floating droplets of cool water or scented oil.
The issue of what happens after sex is, if anything, more crucial for those concerned about future generations of spacefarers. The animal studies conducted so far indicate that the "absence of gravity loading would cause all kinds of problems" for fetal development, Logan said.
For example, Russian studies with pregnant rats showed a 13 to 17 percent arrest in the development of nearly every area of the fetal skeleton in zero-G, he said. Logan also noted that the proper formation of neural connections — a process that continues even after birth — requires movement under gravity loading. Immune functions are also compromised in microgravity.
Logan isn't worried so much about the early weeks of pregnancy, but he said studies have shown that gravity should play a significant role for human fetuses after about 26 weeks of gestation.
"This has significant implications for the colonization of the solar system," he said. Multigenerational life might be impossible without at least some gravity.
As an alternative, future space settlers might create artificial gravity — say, on spinning spacecraft like the wheel-like space station portrayed in "2001: A Space Odyssey."
How much gravity?So how much gravity is enough? The one-sixth gravity of the moon, or the one-third gravity of Mars? So far, no one knows, Logan said.
"We still do not have an inkling of what the 'gravity prescription' is," he said. "Think of gravity as a medication. We don't know the dose, we don't know the frequency, and we don't know the side effects."
Cosmic radiation in the space environment is another worry surrounding fetal development in space — and Logan said there may be a synergistic relationship between radiation and the ill effects of zero-G on the fetus. The unknowns are of such great concern that, given the current state of our knowledge, pregnancy in space would be "very dangerous," he said.
The efficacy of oral contraceptives in space is also a subject of concern, Woodmansee said, particularly because studies involving other types of medications indicate that drugs aren't absorbed as readily in space as they are on Earth.
Beyond the romance, more researchLogan as well as Woodmansee called for more research into how biological processes work in reduced-gravity environments — not just in the near-weightlessness of the international space station, but also on research satellites that can reproduce one-third or one-sixth gravity. Only then can scientists figure out how much gravity will be required to keep space-dwelling romantics alive for the next generation.
"If you can't figure out how to 'bioneer,' you're not going anywhere," Logan said.
But if humanity can figure out how to live and reproduce in space, it would represent a giant leap — not only for lovers, but for evolution as well, Woodmansee said.
"Our children and our grandchildren, et cetera, will be space aliens," she said. "They will change how humans are. They will be different from us in some way. Maybe if we are really going to go into space, these are good adaptations, but they're going to be painful, I think, in any case. It's disturbing, but it's something that we need to think about if we are truly going to be a spacefaring civilization and settle the galaxy."


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14002908/

It takes a strong man to ride in the "bitch seat" -- so I took his picture

The greatest day ever in the history of days.

I got to see Thomas the Tank Engine today. It was all right. But for my boys, it was akin to seeing Jesus. In fact, if Thomas were truly "cheeky," he'd have a press conference about how to young people he's bigger than God's own son.

But he's not that cheeky.

The weather was hot, a nice change of pace. The boys did a lot of jumping up and down and clapping. Good times. Riding in Thomas' coaches was somewhat anticlimatic, but that's OK.

The boys are now playing with their $60 worth of souvenirs (not Day Out With Thomas things, but assorted Percy toys. As long as they are happy. :)

Two feet of pain

My feet hurt. Yes, I realize this is frequently the complaint of old people (and people who never get to sit down at work, but that ain't me). My feet hurt in part because they spent too much time in what I like to call Hawaii sandals. Hawaii sandals are fun, but they're lacking support, stability and other niceties people usually seek in their footwear. They're really comfy at first, but I think what wrecked things this week is that I took a long walk to lunch. Then, I played broomball.

What is broomball?. It is a tradition at my workplace. And with the company picnic coming up next week, I thought Ii would jump in and play. How hard can it be, right? Not that hard, it turns out. At least not in terms of understanding how it is played. But when it comes to actually getting in the game, well, suffice it to say I felt all of my nearly four decades and then some. The way to succeed at broomball is to just run your ass off, all the while trying to knock a large (knee-high) ball across the opponents goal line (a short side of the rectangular field) while keeping it away from your goal line. This can occasionally get a little physical. The younger guys really tend to dive all over the place. But mostly, perhaps because I'm one of the very few women who plays, I've avoided physical harm so far (one practice).

I asked the team organizer if I was the only woman playing, by the way. He said I probably wouldn't, but that unless HR fielded a team, it just wasn't easy for any department to get many women involved. Touche'.

It's interesting to work in a place so full of guys. Not that newspapers lack the fellas, but the mix is MUCH more even. And in the department where I worked (features), it was nearly all women. (Whereas sports is nearly all men.)

The good thing about Mariners traffic ....

Is that it slows down the buses in just the right way for me to catch them if I don't make it to my regular stop. The scenario goes a little something like this: I walk out of my building. Turn left. See the street. And sometimes, when things aren't going my way, I see my bus out there. This is not a good thing, because that means it has already passed my bus stop, which is about 300 yards to the north. And once it's past the stop, I'm out of luck. Unless ....

On Mariners game days, the street is a bee-yotch between my bus stop and Safeco Field. And the next stop is located just beyond Safeco. So, if I double-time it (and I do need to double-time it), I will just make it to the next stop before my bus does. It worked out tonight, thankfully. It was a long ass day at the office. I can't tell you exactly what happened (this is the effect non-disclosure agreements have on blogs) but I can tell you how I felt about it, which was moderately panicked. All ended well, or well enough, but for a while there, thtings were, well, "suboptimal," as we say in the internet commerce biz. But the good news is that I caught my bus. And it wasn't screamingly crowded, as it was earlier this week. So no only can I sit down, I can actually ride in style -- with my feet up on the sideways seat in front of me, and with "The Matrix" shining on my screen as I write this.

Have I mentioned how little I miss actually driving to work?

Why I never got to sit at the "cool kids" table at the TV press tour ....

Here, from Ray Richmond of the Hollywood Reporter, is an allegedly humorous breakdown of the unwritten rules of the television critics press tour, a twice yearly gathering of largely self-important scribes who get to spend several weeks a year getting their ass kissed (quality of smack depending on what paper they work for).

I am, as you can probably tell from the tone of my post, bitter at never getting the full-on open-mouthed love like, say, Bill Carter of the New York Times. But one soldiers on.

I will also admit, right here and right now, that I have asked for autographs. And I don't regret my Mary Tyler Moore "Oh Steph" on a glossy of her from the Dick Van Dyke show. I just don't.

Let me also say a word here about alcohol, which goes unmentioned by Ray. But suffice it to say that plenty gets consumed by critics at network expense. And seemingly enjoyed. I'm not much of a drinker, and had about 57 stories a week to file, so I didn't go there. But I felt as though I was darn near alone on that front back in the day (mid-'90s).

Just like I felt like I was darn near alone in actually enjoying television. I remember raving about ER before anyone knew what ER was and most people were predicting that it would get crushed by Chicago Hope. My enthusiasm, sincere though it was, was viewed with tremendous suspicion. Sad, really.

Anyway, now it is Ray's turn:

http://www.pastdeadline.com/2006/07/at_the_tv_criti.html

When at Press Tour, Kindly Check Your Unbridled Enthusiasm and Garden-Variety Toadiness At the Door
We all need someone we can lean on. That became apparent to me the day I started work as a talent coordinator and segment producer for "The Merv Griffin Show" in 1985, during the seminal talk show's dying days. My job was to edit movie promo clips and conduct pre-interviews with guests, feeding Merv questions and answers based on that advance chat to ensure that the show contained no spontaneity whatsoever. What I wasn't told by my fellow talent coodinators prior to my first pre-show meeting with Merv was that you were never to try to be funny in Merv's presence lest he grow offended at the sheer audacity of your thinking you might succeed in drawing a smile. So of course I pretty much immediately launched into a joke. Merv responded with complete silence, literally turning his back on me. Once the meeting mercifully concluded, one of my fellow coordinators frantically took me aside and gasped, "Oh God, we forgot to tell you: nobody can be funnier than Merv!"
Uhhhhh...yeah. Thanks for the tip.
With this 20-year-old story in mind, I'm committed to being there for any TV critics who may be new on the job and taking in their first Television Critics Association press event (currently going down in Pasadena) with the goal of sparing them the same sort of excruciating pain I experienced when Merv put a well-meaning neophyte in his place.
You see, the TV critics have unwritten rules at these affairs, an ingrained code of conduct that first-timers no doubt find perplexing, not to mention unnerving. If you don't know how to properly behave, there is guaranteed to be embarrassment, admonishments, angry stares, wagging fingers and, in rare cases, the outright withholding of meaningless chit-chat. You risk being ostracized, isolated, gossiped about, possibly even placed on the TCA's version of probation (having your key access to the prison cell-size official association suite at the hotel taken away).
To guard against such public humilation and potential trauma, I submit the 10 Iron-Clad Unwritten Rules of TCA:
1. Critics do not applaud at any session no matter what! And when company drones in attendance take to clapping, critics are expected to assume the "Buddha Position" (arms crossed, legs crossed, staring blankly straight ahead, all of the body's muscles in complete repose). The louder the surrounding applause, the more blank and emotionless the expression and inert the limbs.
2. The more popular the star attending a session happens to be, the less outwardly impressed the critic must appear -- demonstrating a palpable indifference to the celebrity's standing via what's known as the "You ain't all that!" line of questioning and level of recognition. (Does not apply if the star is too hot to speak to and simultaneously breathe properly, such as in the case of Salma Hayek.)
3. When asking a question of anyone (executive, producer or star) on a panel, never address he or she by first name. It's not "Ted" but "Mr. Danson." You are not their friend. You are their journalistic overlord. And asking for autographs? Only if you want to be strangled to death. You are not a fan and are not in attendance to help them feel good about themselves or their project. At TCA, skeptical is the new curious. Always has been, come to think of it.
4. If you ask any question during a session that smacks of ass-kissing, your chances of ever achieving the respect of your fellow critics hovers close to zero. Better to let others do the asking until you get the lay of the land.
5. If you still insist on asking a question and are fortunate enough to draw the attention of one of the network pages who control microphone access, be as rude as possible. Jump up and down. Interrupt with impunity. Wave your arms frantically. Holler "Over here on your right!" at three-second intervals until acknowledged. Fall to the ground clutching your chest, feigning a heart attack. Then scream, "I've fallen and I can't get up!" or, while experiencing a miraculous and instantaneous recovery from the heart episode, yell, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm not gonna let these bastards get away with this!" If you don't approach this task with the firm conviction that you are the center of the universe and the other critics mere orbiting pieces of space trash, you'll never get a chance to speak. But again, don't worry about making a scene to get your shot. It's simply how this game is played.
6. If a fellow critic asks a question of a network executive that elicits a shifty, evasive, awkward, uncomfortable, testy or ignorant response, be sure to follow it up by asking the same question in a slightly different way. And then again if necessary. Be sure to work yourself into a hostile lather. Rinse. Then repeat during each subsequent network executive session.
7. Laughing during sessions is permissible, but it must be driven by the proper motivation. You cannot chuckle because you genuinely like the person and believe he or she is a stitch. The laughter can only emerge as a temporary, reflexive, otherwise dispassionate reaction to a single amusing moment and then immediately followed by a quick recovery and a mumbled, "Ha. Funny."
8. You can eat the free food supplied by the hotel and covered on the networks' dime but cannot appear to be enjoying it excessively. It is adequate sustenance, nothing more. To imply otherwise is to effectively abandon your power. The meals must be reflected as moderately satisfying at best. Regular and increasingly frustrated complaints about the poor quality of the gratis grub are encouraged.
9. If you speak to a fellow critic about the general news value of this year's press tour while it's in progress, it must pale in comparison -- using such descriptions as "sucks" or "bites" -- while recalling the quality and excitement of every past event. And if someone misses a session and inquires as to how it went, you are duty-bound to reply, "Oh God, it was painful. Didn't get a thing out of it. (Insert names here) were so lame."
10. If you try to sneak a "plus one" into any network party, expect to be fixed with the evil eye by many out-of-town attendees who are there by themselves. Taking along a friend or family member is not the politically savvy thing to do, implying that special (read: unethical) favors have been sought and unjust enrichment bestowed. Like smoking a cigarette in the bathroom in 7th grade, it is unlikely to escape the attention of someone with an ax to grind and will surely haunt you to your grave.
So anyway, there you go, newbies. No need to thank me. It's all just about giving back for me.

Crocs: So ugly they're beautiful. And so comfortable ...

I have been on a bit of a Crocs binge. Three pairs, for the price of one and a half ($45 total), courtesy of my nephew's employee discount (Thanks!). Black, light blue and lime green .... awesome.

Yes, this color is accurate. I've worn these with shorts, with khakis, with whatever. At work, no less. But not to church (yet). They make me feel all sprouty and full of life. And kind of silly, but what the hell. I couldn't go for the pink ones like Rosie, but I'm not afraid to go for the goofy in a slightly different form.

"The Girls" get some fresh air and sunshine

So I got several new shirts of different styles and brands .... some Ts, some nicer, whatever. And discovered that they have something in common: Very low-cut fronts. I mean, I'm not a prude or anything, but these shirts reach well to cleave-land.

What's even funnier is that a couple of the shirts have buttons that look as though they might enable me to be slightly more modest, but they're just for show (no holes to go into) until things become revelatory.

However, I've decided to embrace this. Unlike at my previous place of work, where I made excuses for the girls and didn't ever wear my accidental low-cut Gap party shirt, here I'm just going for it. I figure that before I know it they'll be slunk down too low for it to matter. So I'll rock it while I can.

A little more on Rosie ...

So here's the news item about the Emmy nominations received by "All Aboard," the movie about the R Family cruise that took place a year before ours:

Rosie O'Donnell was vacationing on a cruise ship with us! near Alaska when she got word that her HBO special "All Aboard! Rosie's Family Cruise" had been nominated for three Emmys, including outstanding nonfiction special. Partner and fellow executive producer Kelli O'Donnell woke her up "at the crack of dawn" I think it was more like the crack of 9 or 10 to tell her about the noms. "I said, 'That's amazing; I have to get some more sleep now,'" she joked. O'Donnell said the news was especially gratifying considering what was going on during shooting. "Last year during the cruise, the federal marriage amendment (regarding gay marriages) was beaten for the first time. This year, when we said we had gotten nominated, everybody was cheering. There are 3,000 people on this cruise, and it's touching to get nominated while on board." She added that she's happy to see that that special has touched people's lives. "It's reached people in a way I never thought it would. ... It's really changed a lot of people's perspectives. It's easy to vilify a group of people until you see their lives and see the humanity. ... But what unites us is much bigger than what makes us different." O'Donnell starts her role as co-host on ABC's daytime talker "The View" in September, saying she's both excited and nervous about the job. "I've never been on a daytime show where I wasn't the boss," she said. "All of a sudden, I have a lot of bosses." And lord I hope she doesn't alienate them. Rosie is funny, smart, passionate ... but sometimes her emotions can get the best of her. You know, she's human .... but we don't really want that from our celebrities.

Back at it ....

So, I've been remiss. And it's certainly not that I don't think every one of my passing thoughts is desperately important. Of course it is. :)

I've just gotten out of the habit. But now I'm back, baby.

A few words about the parents and the kids

We've been on a number of cruises. All have had kids, and parents, aboard. But none have had as many kids as the R Family ship. Capacity was about 3,000, and nearly a third of those people were children. (In fact, all those kids drove the ship above its official capacity -- though still well within its lifeboat capacity, the crew took pains to point out -- 'cause they took up every damn bunk in every damn stateroom, or so it seemed). Of course, in our stateroom, the boys just wedged themselves into their moms' bunks. But I digress.

Anyway, never have I seen such well-adjusted children and such patient adults. They weren't over-indulgent. They didn't let the kids run wild. There was just a lot of love on that ship. A lot of support. A lot of people glad that they didn't have to explain that they weren't aunts or uncles or grandmas or grandpas, but moms and moms and dads and dads.

Home, and ready for the next big, gay cruise

I've been remiss in my blogging, and I apologize to all none of my readers. I'm sure you've all been devastated at my absence and barely able to function. Well, prepare to resume your lives, because I have.

No longer am I living on a cruise ship, eating five pounds of bacon (and eggs drenched in butter) for breakfast. No longer are my days filled with swimming, shows, celebrity spotting and a bedroom that rocks back and forth with the waves. This is a good thing, as we got enough waves on our second-to-last night, when all the amazingly good weather turned to 50 mph winds that made some people feel like they were trapped in another remake of The Poseidon Adventure. (For me, it was the Barf-on Adventure, as that's what the boys did.)

But to linger on the nausea is to give the wrong idea of the trip. For six of the seven days, it was bliss. Like, weather so good that the park rangers were wide-eyed in amazement. Weather so good I never needed a coat. IN ALASKA. Was it global warming, or just God smiling on the gays? I think it was probably both.

We saw Mendenhall Glacier, and Glacier Bay (boy quote: "Oh, more ice.") We rode a train toward the Yukon, drinking our bottled water and hearing stories of why the place we were looking at was called Dead Horse Gulch. (Hint: It's not a metaphor -- times were pretty damn terrible then.)

We enjoyed the company of numerous celebrities. Oh, we didn't hang out in their stateroom, but we did see them "in the wild," like bald eagles (saw a number of those too). There was Sharon Gless at the buffet (and participating in a Q and A on Cagney and Lacey). And there was Cyndi Lauper by the stairs, being nice to our boys and their little pal. And there was Kathy Griffin headed for the elevator, barely looking like herself without her makeup. Rosie was more elusive, spending her time either in her penthouse overlooking the pool or on stage, ready to retreat through a private exit. Cheryl ran her down, however, and got a picture with her. And she ran into her in the wild as well.

The most remarkable thing about the cruise was the fact that everyone was made to feel like a VIP. Rather than just chocolates on our bed, each night we got goodies of all sorts, from a really nice R family backpack to a mug to a T-shirt and more. And during the days, the boys got stuffed animals, pirate gear and other fun stuff. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty to buy (and we did) but the treats were terrific.

Tomorrow we get on the big gay boat with Rosie and company

Yes, after months of anticipation, our R Family cruise to Alaska is upon us. And we're all in really, really good moods, even if they won't make a movie about it the way they did the first one (avaiable at www.amazon.com, of course).

But our good moods may change as the day goes on. We still haven't packed. But we will. And anything we don't have we can buy (at just slightly above typical retail rates I'm sure).

Except alcohol. That's always a great deal, 'cause of the duty free business. Of course, we still have alcohol left over from our last cruise ..... Which was in 2001, so you can tell how much we drink.

As Maria McKee said during her Fabchannel show in Amsterdam (www.fabchannel.com):

"I gave that (drinking) up, luv. I'm just naturally crazy."

Meet our boys, Anger and Frustration

So I stopped to pick up some Play-Doh that was flattened but not completely ground into one of our rugs. And Cheryl started talking about how there just wasn't any percentage in getting new rugs, or even, for that matter, worrying about the presence of Play-Doh in the ones we have. I agreed, saying, "That's just a recipe for anger and frustration."

And Cheryl said, "That's what we should have named the boys."

"But what about Recriminations?" I asked.

"If only we'd had triplets," Cheryl said.

I love laughing. No wonder I love Cheryl so much.