Category Archives: uncategorized

We Found a Baby Bunny!”

The lawn mower is against me. Ran out of gas about 75% of the way through mowing. No problem; that’s pretty standard, actually. So I fill the tank with gas, and the mower refuses to start up again.

Dang!

Now, as I’m sure Mike will attest in the comments, I’m way better with a database engine than I am with an internal combustion engine. I’m not sure where to start, so I kind of putz around with it for a while.

No help. The mower won’t start.

My neighbor Bob, who is an attorney, is a very nice fellow, and offers to let me borrow his mower tonight and whenever else I may need it. Very neighborly. I take him up on his offer, because I just want to get the lawn mowed by this time (it was very much overdue).

At this point, Jen is secretly hoping that our mower is dead. She hates it. I don’t know why, but she and the mower don’t get along. She has told me several times that she would be happy to do the mowing if we had a “decent” mower.

I finish up the yard with Bob’s mower, which falls apart as I’m almost done. One of the knobs on the adjustable handle falls off. So I complete the job, simultaneously mowing and holding Bob’s mower together, trying to think of some way to fix it. I find the knob in the grass, and eventually the bolt that holds it in place as well. At the very least, I can return Bob’s mower intact.

My father-in-law arrives with his chainsaw to help us remove some bushes (no one trusts me with the chainsaw; this is wise of everyone). He offers to look at the mower. Cool, I think. If anybody can fix it, it’s Clair. Clair is equal parts MacGyver, Wozniak, Vila, and Dilbert.

Clair can’t fix it, at least not without some more tools. But I don’t think he thinks he can fix it, because he starts giving us buying advice, at which point Jen is thrilled.

And quite frankly, I’d be OK with a new mower, too. If Jen did the mowing, that would be cool. Not that I mind doing it; it’s just hard to find time while the sun’s shining.

Evan: But I think that’s because chickens aren’t so big. There’s nothing as funny as a good quote with no context.

OK, time to dig through some links I’ve been meaning to post. The True Story of Emma will have to wait until tomorrow night.

Some hoser wants Oreos to be banned because they’re not good for you. Here’s a clue, fella: don’t eat ’em. Problem solved.

The perfect formula for box office success has allegedly been discovered. Read more here. Related Slashdot discussion (always enlightening) here.

Eminem is following in Coolio’s footsteps by stifling Weird Al’s creativity: You’ll just have to listen to the song and close your eyes and imagine what might have been. If I were an accomplished musician, I would consider it an honor to be parodied by Al Yankovic. Strangely, we were discussing “Amish Paradise” at last Tuesday’s Elder Meeting.

Tom Yager, who has made the switch to Apple, talks about UNIX: I get the irony that the free software movement came into being largely because of onerous Unix licensing terms.

Ever heard of the SWAG algorithm? I hadn’t either, until I looked it up here.

Anybody else tired of seeing these “confidentiality” messages at the bottoms of people’s emails? Here’s a typical one. Let’s look at it.

Unless expressly stated otherwise, this message (and any attachment(s)
thereto) is confidential and may be privileged.

Already, things are falling apart. Email is technologically public in nature. If the information is that sensitive that you feel a disclaimer is warranted, you may want to think about a different transport, or at least using PGP.

It is intended for the addressee(s) only.

No kidding, Sherlock. The ironic part is that this particular message was lifted from a message to a mailing list!

If you are not an addressee, any disclosure or copying of the contents of this e-mail or any action taken (or not taken) in reliance on it is strictly prohibited.

So, if you screw up, I have to cover your butt? I would, because I’m a nice person, but don’t tell me I’m strictly prohibited from doing something with this message.

If you are not an addressee, please inform sender immediately and delete this message from your system.

Uh, yeah, I’ll get right on that.

Mmmmmmmm. In a few weeks I’ll be relaxing here. I may or may not come back. 😉

Well, store everyone I work with now thinks I am an idiot because I thought butterflies ate grass and leaves. If you, like me, are ignorant about this, please educate yourself here before broaching the subject with my co-workers.

Daring Fireball: As it stands, Apple’s application design remains very good, but it used to be impeccable.

Grace has a new friend. The chrysalis we’ve had in our home for past month or so opened up today. Mrs. Butterfly isn’t faring well, though. At least one wing is broken, and she can’t fly. She’s trying, but she can’t get off the ground.

So Grace took her with us everywhere today, except church. Mrs. Butterfly came along to Jen’s parents’ for lunch and to my sister’s for dinner.

This morning, Grace looked at me and said, “What do butterflies eat?” Now, I’m no expert on bugs, but I like to have an answer when my daughter needs one, even if it means making it up (yes, I realize the trouble this could cause later; in fact, she already told her preschool teacher that I’m Batman, but that’s another story). I said, “Probably grass and leaves.” So she grabs a handful of grass and offers it to the butterfly, saying, “Here you go, little guy.”

She’s so sweet that it almost breaks my heart sometimes. I think she would given anything to see Mrs. Butterfly able to fly off on her own.

And of course, come back to live in Grace’s room.

I really like my church. It was very humid this morning, and I was thankful to attend a church where I can wear shorts, a polo, and my sandals without anyone complaining about how I look or dress. And I’m one of the worship leaders!

The first church I was heavily involved in was very much into appearances. One morning I conducted the congregation in singing hymns and I got in trouble because I didn’t have socks on. I was wearing a suit and tie, and standing behind a podium, and somehow one of the elders noticed I didn’t have socks on. Of course, as was the custom at that church, no one came to me directly and asked me to wear socks in the future. It was just a lot of whispering and silent judging.

We had an interesting visitor in church today, too. My pastor told me ahead of time that there would be a snake in the service. He’s been preaching on Genesis, and today was Genesis 3, with the serpent trying to deceive Eve. And succeeding. He wanted a snake to use as a visual aid. No problem, I thought, expecting maybe a garter snake or a black snake.

Nope. In walk two guys from the local pet store with a freakin’ twelve foot, eighty pound, albino Burmese Python.

I stayed behind the snack table in the back of the room.