Following hot on the footsteps of my post just minutes ago, I'm posting now on a somewhat unrelated topic.
I am mildly crazy. Not in the bat-$hit, tin-foil on my head, sign carrying on the street corner screaming at the top of my lungs, crazy. I'm just mildly neurotic, bipolar, with obsessive compulsive tendencies (and I am 100% serious here, but let's focus on the fun parts of what that means).
I make bad puns, I sing to myself out loud (usually softly), I make inane observations, and say seemingly random things (some of which are genuinely random, and some are based on a dialog in my head that involves a perfectly imperfect train of thought, until I decide to speak it out loud, at which point someone looks at me like I have three heads).
There are moments when things get out of control. Sometimes they involve coffee (and very occasionally alcohol, although I have mostly sworn that off). I get twitchy, and I am more inane than usual. I say strange things. I'll be in a room with one or two other people playing a board game and sing "row, row, row, your boat", or hum "pop goes the weasel".
When I suddenly notice that the squadron of models I painted with red heads, like, 15 years ago (see my prior post) do, in fact, have red heads, the sudden burst of laughter "they're red heads!" met me tonight with a very, very strange response. Looking around for redheads. Trying to figure out why I find that funny. Seeing what I am actually pointing at, then slowly looking for a way to discreetly increase the physical proximity between us. Honestly I find this to be funny.
When someone shoots at a squad and states they are firing at them "from behind" I giggle. What's funnier than someone taking it up the backside? Maybe not so much inane as immature (mind you I am a big fan of that sort of crude humour as well). That became a running joke for the night, so maybe that's not so bad.
Sometimes I have to swear that I'm not drunk, or high, but I get the general sense that sometimes people would possibly be more comfortable with my strange behaviours if I were somehow under the influence of a mild-altering substance...
I am medicated for my conditions, but I am afraid my personality is beyond treatment and, you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. :)
Friday 30 December 2011
Geeking Out
As you may have guessed, I am a nerd. (Or geek - is there a difference?)
I am a video game fanatic, and I enjoy table top wargaming (really!).
After Christmas my daughter and I spent ten (10!) straight hours playing the new Skylanders video game (we have more than a dozen of the characters). Plus four hours each day off and on over the time period between (until DW put a moratorium on the game yesterday - boo!). She has learned some new words, as I have mentioned previously, like "little ba$tard$" and "little fu__ers". She has also learned to negotiate, as in - "maybe mommy will let us play Skylanders now that I have done a s-h-i-t-load of reading today". And yes, she did actually spell it out. Again - parents of the year we are not.
I also like to get my geek on about once a month playing Warhammer 40k (if you don't know it, don't bother, just trust me, it's for nerds). It occurred to me over the course of tonight's discussion that I despite spending a great many hours painting the models for this game (yes, they're unpainted, numerous, and highly detailed) I play very, very rarely, and I suck very, very much. I am in it for the painting. My armies are very nicely done (or so I am told) and my "centerpiece" models (you know, the big flashy ones that get blown to pieces first when the first bullets fly) look very nice indeed (again, so I'm told, and I've also won a couple of contents, which I take advantage of to obtain even more pieces of metal and plastic to paint).
I've been painting and playing (with a 10% overall win ratio) since - get this, 1996. That's 15 years, people. As I spoke these words tonight I almost fell over. That's just shy of 50% of my life. I guess that's what a hobby is. I guess I'll be doing this for a much longer time, too. I know people who have been playing since the game first came out in the 1980's - holy $hit!
In that time I have spent literally hundreds of hours (possibly thousands, but that seems high) painting these models, hunched over a desk with a fine scale paint brush in my hand, all with the express purpose of playing a game I may play for four hours, about once a month. I have models I have painted (and in one instance re-painted) but NEVER used. I'll likely never sell many of them, even the ones I haven't played. When I die I'll leave them to someone in my will (I'm still deciding who).
My latest hobby is playing with my daughter. She is just picking up the "fun" board games (as opposed to the watered-down kiddy version of games), which is much more appealing than playing Barbies or stuffed animals. She plays LEGO (mostly my old LEGO, of which there is no small quantity). She plays videogames (as I have mentioned above). For a little while I even had her playing Warhammer 40k. I was quite excited about this, but once I started trying to teach her the "real" rules, her enthusiasm flagged, and her interest in painting the models has diminished (but not entirely extinguished). I think getting her to play 40k is ultimately a lost cause. :(
Why am I telling you all this? Perhaps because you are bored enough to be reading it until the very end. And maybe I just like talking to myself (typing to myself?) because that's just the sort of thing I do. I'll post more on that very, very soon.
I am a video game fanatic, and I enjoy table top wargaming (really!).
After Christmas my daughter and I spent ten (10!) straight hours playing the new Skylanders video game (we have more than a dozen of the characters). Plus four hours each day off and on over the time period between (until DW put a moratorium on the game yesterday - boo!). She has learned some new words, as I have mentioned previously, like "little ba$tard$" and "little fu__ers". She has also learned to negotiate, as in - "maybe mommy will let us play Skylanders now that I have done a s-h-i-t-load of reading today". And yes, she did actually spell it out. Again - parents of the year we are not.
I also like to get my geek on about once a month playing Warhammer 40k (if you don't know it, don't bother, just trust me, it's for nerds). It occurred to me over the course of tonight's discussion that I despite spending a great many hours painting the models for this game (yes, they're unpainted, numerous, and highly detailed) I play very, very rarely, and I suck very, very much. I am in it for the painting. My armies are very nicely done (or so I am told) and my "centerpiece" models (you know, the big flashy ones that get blown to pieces first when the first bullets fly) look very nice indeed (again, so I'm told, and I've also won a couple of contents, which I take advantage of to obtain even more pieces of metal and plastic to paint).
I've been painting and playing (with a 10% overall win ratio) since - get this, 1996. That's 15 years, people. As I spoke these words tonight I almost fell over. That's just shy of 50% of my life. I guess that's what a hobby is. I guess I'll be doing this for a much longer time, too. I know people who have been playing since the game first came out in the 1980's - holy $hit!
In that time I have spent literally hundreds of hours (possibly thousands, but that seems high) painting these models, hunched over a desk with a fine scale paint brush in my hand, all with the express purpose of playing a game I may play for four hours, about once a month. I have models I have painted (and in one instance re-painted) but NEVER used. I'll likely never sell many of them, even the ones I haven't played. When I die I'll leave them to someone in my will (I'm still deciding who).
My latest hobby is playing with my daughter. She is just picking up the "fun" board games (as opposed to the watered-down kiddy version of games), which is much more appealing than playing Barbies or stuffed animals. She plays LEGO (mostly my old LEGO, of which there is no small quantity). She plays videogames (as I have mentioned above). For a little while I even had her playing Warhammer 40k. I was quite excited about this, but once I started trying to teach her the "real" rules, her enthusiasm flagged, and her interest in painting the models has diminished (but not entirely extinguished). I think getting her to play 40k is ultimately a lost cause. :(
Why am I telling you all this? Perhaps because you are bored enough to be reading it until the very end. And maybe I just like talking to myself (typing to myself?) because that's just the sort of thing I do. I'll post more on that very, very soon.
Friday 23 December 2011
Mousetrap...
To dispose of mouse after capture: dump the trap in the garbage with the mouse inside.
ALIVE???
Or you can release it by sliding the lid towards you. Ideally far, far away, or into the dryer vent of that neighbour you hate.
I toy with the idea of setting up an arena and tossing in one mouse and one cat and seeing how long the mouse lasts...or how long the mouse can play dead hoping the cat will give up. But building an arena that would be sporting that the mouse couldn't get out of would take more time than I have, and probably (probably) more effort than it's worth.
According to the box this trap catches up to four mice...AT ONE TIME?
A mouse would have to be pretty stupid to come along and follow his buddy straight into a trap, unless they're in a mad dash to get at that peanut butter...but for four mice to march in one after the other? Madness! Just because the trap will HOLD four mice, I doubt it will actually CATCH four mice.
Besides, if I have THAT many mice running around at one time that a trap catches four at once I'm calling the damn exterminator. That's right, not "pest control" - "EXTERMINATOR".
I'll be back...
ALIVE???
Or you can release it by sliding the lid towards you. Ideally far, far away, or into the dryer vent of that neighbour you hate.
I toy with the idea of setting up an arena and tossing in one mouse and one cat and seeing how long the mouse lasts...or how long the mouse can play dead hoping the cat will give up. But building an arena that would be sporting that the mouse couldn't get out of would take more time than I have, and probably (probably) more effort than it's worth.
According to the box this trap catches up to four mice...AT ONE TIME?
A mouse would have to be pretty stupid to come along and follow his buddy straight into a trap, unless they're in a mad dash to get at that peanut butter...but for four mice to march in one after the other? Madness! Just because the trap will HOLD four mice, I doubt it will actually CATCH four mice.
Besides, if I have THAT many mice running around at one time that a trap catches four at once I'm calling the damn exterminator. That's right, not "pest control" - "EXTERMINATOR".
I'll be back...
Wednesday 21 December 2011
If you have nothing nice to say...
Sat through my first primary school holiday musical celebration. Um...yay?
There are some very talented kids among that large, large, group. Presumably somewhere in the back, behind all the other ones.
There are some very talented kids among that large, large, group. Presumably somewhere in the back, behind all the other ones.
Tuesday 20 December 2011
My favorite voice to listen to.
Yes, my blog here will be infrequently visited at best, I am sure, but at least I have been recognized:
http://bringingthecrazy.blogspot.com/2011/12/he-has-voice.html
And yes, my favorite voice to listen to will always be my own. :D
http://bringingthecrazy.blogspot.com/2011/12/he-has-voice.html
And yes, my favorite voice to listen to will always be my own. :D
Saturday 17 December 2011
Mouse Update!!!
Good news: it wasn't a mouse eating the dishwasher, it's just a leaky door seal. Easy enough to fix.
Bad news: we found another mouse.
Good news: it's dead.
Bad news: DW found it in the deep fryer.
Good news: it hadn't been cooked.
Stay tuned!
Bad news: we found another mouse.
Good news: it's dead.
Bad news: DW found it in the deep fryer.
Good news: it hadn't been cooked.
Stay tuned!
Stupid mouse...
We've had a minor mouse problem the last year or so. I've only seen four. Of those the cat got one (good Sera!), one was dead in a trap, one got away, and the other was just dead on the floor in my tool room (probably due to an act of cat - the bugger probably suffered severe injury then slipped under the door to spend his last few moments in relative peace).
There are only four other pieces of evidence. The first is obvious. One ran across the back of the stove while I was cooking, really, standing there over the frying pan, cooking. Cheeky little bastard. He's the one who got away (aforementioned).
One cabinet has had to be cleaned out (just one!) but there was no mouse in sight.
Next was the dead mouse in the middle of the floor.
The last is the obnoxious one. For some reason, these mice seem to like chewing on (and through) one particular hose (just the one), resulting in a leaky dishwasher. THREE BLOODY TIMES! The first I never saw (that I know of) got caught in the trap dead. The next got caught in a trap while I was in the living room, but didn't die. I pulled open the plate at the front of the dishwasher and there the little bastard is, alive, and twitching his whiskers at me. I don't know if he was caught in the trap or just panicked, but he bolted. Enter Sera. Good kitty!
I plugged every hole in the kitchen, foam, aluminum foil, steel wool, all buttoned up tight. As far as I know, the only place a mouse can get under the dishwasher is right across the floor (here, kitty, kitty).
But last night, once again, the dishwasher is leaking - same place. I have to pull it out to be sure, but I'm afraid of what I'll find. Hopefully it's just a leaky fitting, but I doubt it. The repair guy is getting expensive, but after watching a few times I can fix it now, if I can buy the part somewhere.
This time I think I'll wrap the hose in aluminum foil then duct tape it tight. Get right to the source. Hopefully the little buggers won't decide to eat something else instead, but if it works, it will at least be a small victory. And I'll set the traps again, since plugging the holes hasn't worked.
So help me, I will be victorious!
Maybe if the cats help.
There are only four other pieces of evidence. The first is obvious. One ran across the back of the stove while I was cooking, really, standing there over the frying pan, cooking. Cheeky little bastard. He's the one who got away (aforementioned).
One cabinet has had to be cleaned out (just one!) but there was no mouse in sight.
Next was the dead mouse in the middle of the floor.
The last is the obnoxious one. For some reason, these mice seem to like chewing on (and through) one particular hose (just the one), resulting in a leaky dishwasher. THREE BLOODY TIMES! The first I never saw (that I know of) got caught in the trap dead. The next got caught in a trap while I was in the living room, but didn't die. I pulled open the plate at the front of the dishwasher and there the little bastard is, alive, and twitching his whiskers at me. I don't know if he was caught in the trap or just panicked, but he bolted. Enter Sera. Good kitty!
I plugged every hole in the kitchen, foam, aluminum foil, steel wool, all buttoned up tight. As far as I know, the only place a mouse can get under the dishwasher is right across the floor (here, kitty, kitty).
But last night, once again, the dishwasher is leaking - same place. I have to pull it out to be sure, but I'm afraid of what I'll find. Hopefully it's just a leaky fitting, but I doubt it. The repair guy is getting expensive, but after watching a few times I can fix it now, if I can buy the part somewhere.
This time I think I'll wrap the hose in aluminum foil then duct tape it tight. Get right to the source. Hopefully the little buggers won't decide to eat something else instead, but if it works, it will at least be a small victory. And I'll set the traps again, since plugging the holes hasn't worked.
So help me, I will be victorious!
Maybe if the cats help.
Perogies...maybe.
While DW is out on the town, I plan dinner for DD and myself. Scope out the freezer and find a open bag of perogies! Been a long time since we had those. (Warning bells should be going off about now.)
First we boil - no. Perogie soup. Freezer burned perogies split and I wind up with potato flavoured water.
Go back to freezer and look for something else. Hey! More perogies. (Am I learning a lesson yet?)
Try to fry them, figuring they'll hold up better. Heat up the oil and (basic physics alert!) toss on the first (slightly freezer burned) perogie. Little bit of an oil splatter, so I take a step back to toss in the second one (arguably I have learned a lesson, albeit a very slight one). The oil splatter this time is, to turn an overused phrase, epic.
PANIC! Turn off the range. Let the chaos settle and the pan cool down. Now a little agitated and frustrated (more so than usual), I put the perogies in the (cooled) oil, then gradually put on the heat. They brown nicely, I pull them out, carefully split one open and - cold on the inside. Not frozen, but not by much.
Determination sets in. Or resignation. I toss them in the microwave for a little bit. They come out warm, maybe a little chewy, but edible.
DD eats three then stops. I get through five (compared to my usual ten or twelve).
After having spent an hour trying to cook perogies, I give up on anything that requires even the remotest amount of brain power that I can make for DD fast.
Hello peanut butter bread.
I'm a great chef.
I also have great motivation to clean the stovetop.
First we boil - no. Perogie soup. Freezer burned perogies split and I wind up with potato flavoured water.
Go back to freezer and look for something else. Hey! More perogies. (Am I learning a lesson yet?)
Try to fry them, figuring they'll hold up better. Heat up the oil and (basic physics alert!) toss on the first (slightly freezer burned) perogie. Little bit of an oil splatter, so I take a step back to toss in the second one (arguably I have learned a lesson, albeit a very slight one). The oil splatter this time is, to turn an overused phrase, epic.
PANIC! Turn off the range. Let the chaos settle and the pan cool down. Now a little agitated and frustrated (more so than usual), I put the perogies in the (cooled) oil, then gradually put on the heat. They brown nicely, I pull them out, carefully split one open and - cold on the inside. Not frozen, but not by much.
Determination sets in. Or resignation. I toss them in the microwave for a little bit. They come out warm, maybe a little chewy, but edible.
DD eats three then stops. I get through five (compared to my usual ten or twelve).
After having spent an hour trying to cook perogies, I give up on anything that requires even the remotest amount of brain power that I can make for DD fast.
Hello peanut butter bread.
I'm a great chef.
I also have great motivation to clean the stovetop.
Thursday 15 December 2011
Tea'd Off
So, this morning, DD and I are having a brief back and forth about something when she suggests "are you going to drink your tea straight out of the machine"? (We have one of those Tassimo single-cup beverage dispensers.)
Of course not. I have to get a cup out of the cupboard.
So I get a cup, and I'm not sure what happens next, but I start the machine and the cycle is half over before I realize - I'M HOLDING THE DAMN CUP!
Thankfully there's the "overflow tray" at the bottom that catches any spill-over in case a cup is over-filled (and it's quite deep, too). So when the cycle is over I tip the tea into my cup.
Now there's the milk cycle (with a different cartridge), and guess what happens?
Nothing interesting, because I learned my lesson. Geez, give me some credit, will ya?
Of course not. I have to get a cup out of the cupboard.
So I get a cup, and I'm not sure what happens next, but I start the machine and the cycle is half over before I realize - I'M HOLDING THE DAMN CUP!
Thankfully there's the "overflow tray" at the bottom that catches any spill-over in case a cup is over-filled (and it's quite deep, too). So when the cycle is over I tip the tea into my cup.
Now there's the milk cycle (with a different cartridge), and guess what happens?
Nothing interesting, because I learned my lesson. Geez, give me some credit, will ya?
Wednesday 14 December 2011
Mmmm...floor medicine.
Inner dialogue:
I've got a bit of a headache still. Is it too soon to pop another Tylenol? Wait! What's this? A little red tablet on the floor? It says "Tylenol" on the side, so that's what it must be. Decision made! Down it goes.
Don't look at me like that.
Also, did you realize how hard it is to spell medicine properly? I didn't. Or is that just me?
I've got a bit of a headache still. Is it too soon to pop another Tylenol? Wait! What's this? A little red tablet on the floor? It says "Tylenol" on the side, so that's what it must be. Decision made! Down it goes.
Don't look at me like that.
Also, did you realize how hard it is to spell medicine properly? I didn't. Or is that just me?
Sunday 11 December 2011
Toothpaste in my eye!!!
ouchouchouchouchouchouch
OK, so first thing I do is hop on that universal source of information, the internet. I do a Google search, and the first thing that pops up is another blogger.com blog.
Kind of makes me doubt the credibility of any information I'm going to find. The consensus seems to be:
rinserinserinserinserinserinserinse...etc...for about 5 minutes.
Oh, and case I forgot to mention it, ouchouchouchouchouch!
OK, so first thing I do is hop on that universal source of information, the internet. I do a Google search, and the first thing that pops up is another blogger.com blog.
Kind of makes me doubt the credibility of any information I'm going to find. The consensus seems to be:
rinserinserinserinserinserinserinse...etc...for about 5 minutes.
Oh, and case I forgot to mention it, ouchouchouchouchouch!
Friday 9 December 2011
Take that, bitches!
And just who spoke this epic phrase?
My daughter, that's who!
This little dialog happened while we were playing a video game (Skylanders, again, I fear).
But this is nothing. Nothing at all.
The real shock was yet to come, in the form of..."kill those little f__kers!"
No sugar coating, just came out as natural as breathing.
Upon admonishment for use of this particular word (one of which grandma would be particularly appalled to hear her speak) her response?
"It's OK. I'm a big girl now."
Her mother thought this was quite funny (privately, of course), and then reminded her that they had agreed she could only use swears after she was 16. (I knew nothing of this deal, I note.)
My darling wife said she could only use swears when she is 16, which will be when she is old enough to drive.
I questioned whether there is a correlation between driving and swearing. I believe there is.
Now my daughter's lamentation is that 16 is SO far away, not because she's anxious to drive, but because she is anxious to use swear words.
Parenting at it's finest, right her folks.
My daughter, that's who!
This little dialog happened while we were playing a video game (Skylanders, again, I fear).
But this is nothing. Nothing at all.
The real shock was yet to come, in the form of..."kill those little f__kers!"
No sugar coating, just came out as natural as breathing.
Upon admonishment for use of this particular word (one of which grandma would be particularly appalled to hear her speak) her response?
"It's OK. I'm a big girl now."
Her mother thought this was quite funny (privately, of course), and then reminded her that they had agreed she could only use swears after she was 16. (I knew nothing of this deal, I note.)
My darling wife said she could only use swears when she is 16, which will be when she is old enough to drive.
I questioned whether there is a correlation between driving and swearing. I believe there is.
Now my daughter's lamentation is that 16 is SO far away, not because she's anxious to drive, but because she is anxious to use swear words.
Parenting at it's finest, right her folks.
Thursday 8 December 2011
Polka Dots Update!
Our living room wall is now 2/3 of the way done being covered with Jersey Cow polka dots. Been that way for a week, until Christmas decorating started.
Now it looks like someone was in our living room making brownies with the blender lid off. But the Christmas decorations look great.
Now, if somebody would get out the brownie batter and the electric mixer and finish putting the polka dots on that wall, I'd appreciate it, because no matter how strange I think it might look, having it only partway done looks even stranger.
Now it looks like someone was in our living room making brownies with the blender lid off. But the Christmas decorations look great.
Now, if somebody would get out the brownie batter and the electric mixer and finish putting the polka dots on that wall, I'd appreciate it, because no matter how strange I think it might look, having it only partway done looks even stranger.
The kid...
The kid said something funny today.
I meant to write it down but I forgot.
But it really was funny, you can take my word for it.
I just wish I remember what it was...
I meant to write it down but I forgot.
But it really was funny, you can take my word for it.
I just wish I remember what it was...
Tuesday 6 December 2011
Undead...backpacks?
So DD apparently has two "undead backpacks".
WTF?
So it turns out the backpacks are actually "living" (not that I'm sure what that means, either).
I had to explain that "undead" tends to refer to things that have died and come back to life, usually as something creepy, ghoulish, or ghostly. Living, on the other hand, refers to things that are still alive (at least for now, and yes, that's how I put it). Things that are dead are just dead (she pretty much gets that part already).
Beware if you don't want your kids picking this up - I believe this came from the Skylanders video game which, yes, is pretty awesome, and no, I am not affiliated with the company (though watching the sales I wish I were).
WTF?
So it turns out the backpacks are actually "living" (not that I'm sure what that means, either).
I had to explain that "undead" tends to refer to things that have died and come back to life, usually as something creepy, ghoulish, or ghostly. Living, on the other hand, refers to things that are still alive (at least for now, and yes, that's how I put it). Things that are dead are just dead (she pretty much gets that part already).
Beware if you don't want your kids picking this up - I believe this came from the Skylanders video game which, yes, is pretty awesome, and no, I am not affiliated with the company (though watching the sales I wish I were).
Sunday 4 December 2011
Hissss...
(Transpired at about 7 AM on a Sunday morning...boo.)
DD: Mommy! I was in the bathroom and Trinity came in and jumped into the bathtub and hissed at me randomly!
Several things amusing:
1) Evil cat.
2) Use of the word "randomly" in an appropriate context by a seven year old.
3) Evil cat goes out of her way to enter a room to hiss at child.
4) Child is known to abuse (or rather, gently and good-intentionally manhandle) the other, not evil cat.
DD: Mommy! I was in the bathroom and Trinity came in and jumped into the bathtub and hissed at me randomly!
Several things amusing:
1) Evil cat.
2) Use of the word "randomly" in an appropriate context by a seven year old.
3) Evil cat goes out of her way to enter a room to hiss at child.
4) Child is known to abuse (or rather, gently and good-intentionally manhandle) the other, not evil cat.
Saturday 3 December 2011
The Flipside of Crazy
DW has long had now her own blog "Bringing the Crazy" (pretty hilarious, by the way) but my life has it's moments too, that she doesn't quite get to witness.
Case in point - our living room wall is half way to being covered with vinyl brown polka dots of all sizes. She does not see that this is funny. The dots do match the new living room furniture (in colour, not in pattern, dimwits!), but the wall looks a little like a Jersey Cow. It does cover up the snowflake fiasco from last christmas where the snowflakes didn't want to come off - but the paint did! For about seven months our wall looked like a zombie with the flesh peeling off.
It's only one wall, and it will eventually come off when the painters we hired through a "groupon" eventually show up (dislike!). Maybe the spots will grown on me and we'll put them back up when the painters have finally come and gone. Maybe. At least it's vinyl and not tape, and therefore removable (or not, remember the snowflakes)? Time well tell on this one.
Oh - and if you haven't noticed, I'm more long-winded than my wife. Or most other normal people. What can I say?
Case in point - our living room wall is half way to being covered with vinyl brown polka dots of all sizes. She does not see that this is funny. The dots do match the new living room furniture (in colour, not in pattern, dimwits!), but the wall looks a little like a Jersey Cow. It does cover up the snowflake fiasco from last christmas where the snowflakes didn't want to come off - but the paint did! For about seven months our wall looked like a zombie with the flesh peeling off.
It's only one wall, and it will eventually come off when the painters we hired through a "groupon" eventually show up (dislike!). Maybe the spots will grown on me and we'll put them back up when the painters have finally come and gone. Maybe. At least it's vinyl and not tape, and therefore removable (or not, remember the snowflakes)? Time well tell on this one.
Oh - and if you haven't noticed, I'm more long-winded than my wife. Or most other normal people. What can I say?
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