Shy, Nola

So a funny thing happened on the way to the corner of the chair...

Dinner & Bed & Breakfast

Whoosh! And five years go by just like that.

After alternatingly planning our successive anniversary celebrations (she the even years, me the extremely odd), we decided that every fifth year we would plan the event together to make sure we both actually wanted to do the thing that the other one would hopefully want to have had done to and or with them (hello, year of putt-putt!).

So after reading/hearing about The Inn at Little Washington being one of the ten best restaurants on the planet, and only 60 or so miles away, we arranged for a night out on the little town. Ainsley's mom was ubergracious enough to offer to spend the night with Ryan, giving Ainsley her first overnight away from her son. And my four hundred and twentieth.

A quick search of local bed & breakfasts led us to the Middleton Inn (c. 1840) as the nicest choice (and a little more reasonable than staying at The Inn). We had the little cottage on the right to ourselves. Just lovely accommodations.

Dinner was elegant and delicious, a six-course affair at a table where we sat side-by-side on a pillowy couch looking out on the back patio and koi pond. Two water boys came out and filled our glasses in unison, the wine dude took my glass order (since I was drinking for three), then the inappropriately boobed waitress took our orders, which, given the luscious options presented, were difficult to select.

Itty bitty appetizers laid out on white spoons (including "the world's smalled baked potato" the size of a grape) started us out, then Bulgarian Sylviya brought us a heavily accented "wahrm soup wit meent and peace." The three courses were brought out, in unison, on different opulent plates, very small portions (ravioli as big as postage stamps), but beautifully arranged and extremely tasty. Dessert was the biggest course of the night, with Ainsley getting the Trio Chocolate Delight and me choosing the four layer southern butter pecan ice cream cake.

Saturday we came home by way of the top half of Skyline Drive, through the Shenandoah Forest. Some pretty views unfortunately marred by a hazy day, and we only got up to about 3000ft, which is about 3000ft underground if you're living in Colorado Springs. But Ryan did okay with his grandmother (if Ainsley got nary a wink of sleep worrying about him), and I think we pulled off enough of a nice evening for Ainsley to go ahead and stay married to me for another five years...

GooGoofy

Based on three songs I heard on the musak over the course of a night at T.G.I.Friday's the other day, it occurred to me that if the guys who did "Too Shy" ever regrouped and toured with the guys who recorded "The Best of You" and "Name", they could call themselves "Kajagoogoofoogoogoo."


It was a long meal.

This'll Come in Handy for ICBM Treaty Monitoring

There are two plates; one plate yellow, in front of plate blue.

The Sprout Sprouts

Ryan's 18-month medical checkup, rescheduled once by them and once by us, finally happened on Monday. On his 19-month birthday.

He's healthy. Though he was too shy to show the pretty doctor where his ears were. Presumably, she found them.

He now measures 33 inches, and pulls Earth at a healthy 28 1/2 lbs psi. Both 75th percentile for people his age (I assume they were looking at the 19-month chart). I forget his head girthitude, but it was in the 80th percentile. Them smarts is big. ("beeeeEEEEEEg," as he says. with a silent 'g')


P.S. "The Sprout Sprouts" would be a good name for a folk band.

Flicka

Dear Old People of America --

Actually, anyone, for that matter.

If you want to be naked in the public sauna, that's fine. Knock yourself out. Sweatify your pores of choice.

Just don't do stretches in front of me.

Nice to be Bored

It's amazing how easy it is to get back into the swing of things at work when you don't really have all that much to do for another five and a half weeks.
My Rotation Manager checklist doesn't kick in until June 29th, so I'm free to twiddle my thong all day, catching up with old correspondence, Russian Rosetta Stone (window=Okna), on-line ancillary training, and that Resist-A-Ball at the gymnasatorium. I've also signed up for Air War College by correspondence. Hopefully I can knock the majority of that out before the new baby comes and gets all distracty.

Saturday we took a break from the household mashugana to host a small reunion of old squadron mates from my first Colorado Springs job in 4 SOPS. I'd invited over 40 people from up and down the Eastern Seaboard, but expected at least 20 or so from the immediate local area to come -- I'd sent out a Milstar-laden e-vite back on April 5th so people would have plenty of time to deconflict their schedules. But except for the guy going to his son's West Point graduation and the other guy going to Iraq, I was really surprised by the number of people who didn't want to come. All told, I only had about 10 RSVPs, and then two of those didn't show up anyway. So it was a small gathering of six or seven of us with spouses and kids pushing the number up to 18. Ryan had a couple tots his age to run around with, plus a blue star balloon tied to his belt loop, so he was golden. It's just sad when not everyone knows his signs, as when he wanted a bite of a little girl's cookie, and was *please*ing the hell out of the front of his shirt.
I hadn't seen some of these folks in over ten years, so it was money well spent, and a fraction of what I paid for a similar, larger reunion in Colorado three years ago. Not sure why I enjoy military reunions so much. One guy labeled me the unit historian, so that must be it.

I got my teeth cleaned today by an eighty-year-old woman who loved to induce pain by water-picking my gums at close range while telling me to "relax my chin". So this is a friendly after-school special reminder to everyone out there to floss. At least seven times a day.

Ten phillips

After a year of owning a hybrid SUV, I am pleased to report, despite my spouse's eye-rolling indifference to consistent and thorough and AF-trained trend analysis, that after driving 10,890 miles, we have saved at least $331.15 on gas compared to if we had bought a regular Ford Escape. Which is the equivalent (at today's price near me) of 114 gallons, or about ten trips to the WahWah.

All told, we've gotten 30.929 miles to the gallon over the life of the car, with a high tankful's mpg of 36.258 and a low of 26.291. (My thunderbird used to average about 23 mpg each tank.) Longest distance between fill-ups: 449 miles.
Highest price paid: $2.99
Lowest: $1.99
Average: $2.58
Fun meter: pegged!

Merchants Awake

Dear Corporate Waitstaff Representatives Of America,

I have been reading since I was gor' near three. Depending on whose story you believe, either my brother taught me or I was just bored (it was South Dakota).
I read from left to right, top to bottom.
I dine at your establishment. You give me the check. I scan it for accuracy. I give you a credit card. You go away.
You come back with two pieces of paper.
I read the total for accuracy, I compute the tip, I fill in the tip, I fill in the total, I sign on the line. Top to bottom.

If the next thing on there reads "Customer Copy", guess what.

Your fault.

You have just wasted thirty-eight seconds of my life. I have to fill in everything again on "Merchant's Copy."

Guess whose tip wasn't calculated exactly the same?

Well, yours was because my wife makes me but OOOH is that same amount written with disdained ink.

All Ya Godda Do, People, is give me the right copy up top. Thank you and go soak your feet.

Another Fine Mess

Day 49 of our "7- to 10-day" sunroom project has come and gone without any progress since the end of April, a long list of things that need to get fixed (a little thing I like to call roof alignment), and a hot tub that's supposed to be delivered next week and set up on a concrete patio that doesn't quite yet exist.

On the plus side, an associated project to get our dining room, kitchen, living area, and sunroom tiled started on time and looks like it will be finished today, four days ahead of schedule. We've been living with half of our furniture in the garage or stacked in the office, the cats haven't been out of the basement since Sunday, and it has been interesting trying to navigate the gooey floors and taped-off accessways to do something as elementary as get milk out of the fridge.

In an attempt to get Ainsley out of the house and give her a break from RyanOverload, I took the day off. I've already fixed two things! Two!

My son said "cougar" last night. It's the coolest thing. He's also starting to say "more" (sort of: more like "mo") in addition to doing the sign. We'll have him in kindergarten next month.

GARGA!

Coming to Colorado, I expected "mountains" to be on the list of new words Ryan would learn. ("monmo.")

I did not expect "gargle" to be on the list. Seems the boy finds my blue listerine-swishing ability to be hilarious, to the point that I can't even approach the bathroom without him saying "garga" and pointing to the back corner of the sink.

We've also taught him "pool", as yesterday was the first time I got to take my son swimming (i.e., 'floating on daddy's shoulder'). He's been in the very shallow barely damp end of a kiddy pool, and we all know about the Atlantic Ocean fiasco from last July, but this was our first extended jaunt around a real pool. He didn't like the cold water at first, nor floating around on an inflatable circle, but after giving him to Ainsley and letting him watch me dive around and pop up by the wall, he was intrigued enough to give it another shot.

Speaking of shots, we've seriously got the next Larry Bird here. We've hung out with tons of friends this week, including some who have a couple teen-age boys who were nice enough to pause in the middle of their basketball game out back to roll the ball to Ryan and let him take a few shots. He's two feet tall, can barely balance the big ball onto his face, but darn if he doesn't want to shoot the ball into the hoop way up there eight feet away. Over and over and over. And crying when it was time to come in. "Bas-ball!" says the little boy through giant tears.

Sheesh.

All done with the course, got the certificate, good to go. We finally got through all the class introductions today (timely!), and I told the folks one of my hobbies was dealing with my three dogs and four cats. The Marine LtCol stood up later and said, "Like Dan, I have two dogs and two horses....but I don't do horses. So that's that." Confused, I replied, "I don't do my dogs and cats, either."

One more afternoon in the pool, another night of mass-hello-everyone-isn't-Ryan-cutes, then back home tomorrow.

Lincoln Noodle Analysis

...I just don't get this Space Stuff. We're talking Satellite Communication capabilities and the dude behinds me remarks how important it is to do a Lincoln Noodle Analysis and as both a historian and pasta fan, that just doesn't make sense at all.

But Ryan and Ainsley make perfect sense -- we're meant to be together a lot more often than we are. So I think I will get a job delivering vending machine snacks. For National Security, of course. But with less overseas travel.
Mommy reported that Ryan slept for most of the first leg, and was the cabin's entertainment committee during the second, though he got a little fed up by the last half-hour. But tons of people at baggage claim were remarking at how good he was on the flight and how cute he is...quite the hit.

While waiting for bags, I pointed Ainsley towards the Thrifty counter so she could be put on the contract. The same dimbulb who tried to steal money from me two weeks ago thought it would be funny to NOT tell her it was an extra $10 a day, and went ahead and charged her for the full three weeks I'M in town instead of just her seven days here.
So I'm looking forward to having certain choice words with Thrifty Inc.

As exhausted as they both were, Ryan still didn't get to sleep until 9 or 10 which was 11 or 12 his time. And then woke up at 6:30. Rarin' to start that vacation.

We ate breakfast in Monument, lunch in Littleton, and dinner in Denver, seeing old friends from previous assignments or my college days at each stop. One remarked how weird it was that we used to be college numbnuts (I'm paraphrasing) and here we are with kids. Of course, we started college 19 years ago...

After driving through a snowstorm on the way back and Ryan SICK and TIRED of being in his carseat so having to drive 35 on the freeway not helping, Ryan found his fourteenth wind at the hotel and didn't bother getting to sleep until 10:30. It is remarkable how Not Interested In Snooze this boy gets at night, clearly not taking after his mother. He's such a joy the other 22 hours in the day, just not those last two hours when he's doing everything in his power to stay awake. Suggestions are welcomed.

...perhaps the guy said "Link and Nodal Analysis."

...nope, still doesn't make sense.

YAY!

After a two-hour layover in Chicago, my baby and my Baby are coming to take me away from all this academnitical madness...