So I got an iPod Touch for Christmas (thank you fam!) and I've been playing with it since. It's actually a rather handy little piece of tech, but so far, other than having a sound track at work to help me keep from losing my mind it's mainly been the world's most expensive Scrabble game.
I've been challenging everyone I can think of to games of Words With Friends, because it's fun, and because it also helps keep me from losing my mind at work. Of course Until recently I've also been on vicodin, so my skills haven't really been up to par.
This has resulted in me losing several games.
DM: You know, we really ought to up the stakes on this.
Me: You only say that cause you're beating me by a bajillion points.
DM: Yep.
It's a good thing I'm well versed in smartass and enjoy it, or he'd be toast.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
QOTD: Christmas Edition
SIL: "No more automatic weapons until their ages are in the double digits, ok?"
"Santa" brought the nephews a belt-fed full-auto Nerf gun.... because Santa is awesome like that.
"Santa" brought the nephews a belt-fed full-auto Nerf gun.... because Santa is awesome like that.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Merry Christmas, Everyone
I'm just going to do a quick update and let you get back to your holiday gatherings:
Thanks to a few very kind, very generous people, The Nephews will be getting some extra Santa gifts... I'll get pictures tomorrow when they're opened and post them.
Mouth is healing, slowly. Stitches inside the mouth feel REALLY weird especially when one is across the hole where a tooth used to be and vibrates like a harp string whenever you rinse, which is often because infections suck. When the oral surgeon says "you'll have some pain in the joint of your jaw" he ain't kidding, and I'm not sure if that's because of how the nerves in that area work or if he just pried my mouth open that hard. Most of the pain at this point is actually there, rather than in the area where the tooth actually came out... the teeth in front of the dear departed are pretty much only tender when I chew.
Vicodin is my friend. This is the first time I've had to take vicodin that I had to regulate things so that I was still functional, last time I was able to just say to hell with it, take the full pill and pass out for a few hours. There's been some trial and error finding the balance between being in pain and grinning stupidly at customers telling them their shirt is preeetttyyy.
Doing my cig count is kind of interesting too, since my attention span has shrunk considerably due to the drugs.
"Twenty two, twenty four, twenty six, man I want some steak but I can't chew it but I'm so sick of soft foods except we'll have pie at Christmas so that'll be good.... shit where was I?"
Anyway, I'm finding it way too easy to ramble so I'll end here and tell you all to have a Merry Christmas, hug your loved ones, and eat something crunchy for me.
Thanks to a few very kind, very generous people, The Nephews will be getting some extra Santa gifts... I'll get pictures tomorrow when they're opened and post them.
Mouth is healing, slowly. Stitches inside the mouth feel REALLY weird especially when one is across the hole where a tooth used to be and vibrates like a harp string whenever you rinse, which is often because infections suck. When the oral surgeon says "you'll have some pain in the joint of your jaw" he ain't kidding, and I'm not sure if that's because of how the nerves in that area work or if he just pried my mouth open that hard. Most of the pain at this point is actually there, rather than in the area where the tooth actually came out... the teeth in front of the dear departed are pretty much only tender when I chew.
Vicodin is my friend. This is the first time I've had to take vicodin that I had to regulate things so that I was still functional, last time I was able to just say to hell with it, take the full pill and pass out for a few hours. There's been some trial and error finding the balance between being in pain and grinning stupidly at customers telling them their shirt is preeetttyyy.
Doing my cig count is kind of interesting too, since my attention span has shrunk considerably due to the drugs.
"Twenty two, twenty four, twenty six, man I want some steak but I can't chew it but I'm so sick of soft foods except we'll have pie at Christmas so that'll be good.... shit where was I?"
Anyway, I'm finding it way too easy to ramble so I'll end here and tell you all to have a Merry Christmas, hug your loved ones, and eat something crunchy for me.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
FarmGirl's Continuing Adventures In Advanced Dentistry
Longtime readers probably know to what I'm referring, and if you don't, ask someone or go look it up, I don't feel like doing a recap.
Last week I broke a tooth. Since it was Friday night, I wasn't going to get in to see my dentist till Monday at the earliest anyway, I decided to go ahead and go for Tuesday, which I already had scheduled off. I could suck it up that long.
Called in made the appointment, requested the chill pill that keeps me from running screaming from the building a projectile vomiting all over the parking lot... and got told they can't call in a script because it's been too long since they've seen me. Call my GP and get the script. I got this information Monday afternoon (because I sleep during the mornings since I work nights) and would have to leave for my appointment Tuesday morning no later than six am.
Yeah that wasn't going to work out on the whole happy pill thing. I know my dentist. I like my dentist. I figured I could reach down and grab a pair and get through a crown or an extraction with him, if I had to.
Then I got there, and he looked at it, said "that's gotta hurt" took some xrays and basically said I have an infection in all of my back molars, both sides. Tooth had to come out.
Now, the last time I was there we wound up with one dentist sitting on my chest and the other doing some kind of voodoo dance to extract some of my teeth, because the roots are *strong*.
In the interim, my favorite dentist has had a heart attack, his son (the one who did the voodoo dance last time) wasn't in the office Tuesday, and he basically said "I can't do it. We're sending you to an oral surgeon."
That totally helped my whole "don't freak out" mantra.
So after five minutes or so in the parking lot trying mostly unsuccessfully not to hyperventilate we headed over to the oral surgeon's office. Where we waited. And waited. And Waited.
Actually we waited less than an hour but to me it felt like forever.
The nurse came out and explained to us that the surgeon, after looking at the pretty pictures of my teeth and hearing about how I was behaving in his waiting room (pretty much like a scared rabbit, shaking in my seat with occasional leaps to the bathroom or outside) had decided that deep sedation was the best way to go.
It's expensive, but it's best, she said. You're more relaxed and things go better, she said.
Looking back I think the surgeon was afraid I was going to wind up backed into a corner and biting. Which may not have been all that far off the mark.
So yeah, I got knocked out, and I gotta say, as far as minimizing stress and keeping me from freaking the hell out in the middle of a procedure when I haven't been given a mild sedative, it's the way to go.
The worst part of the whole thing was the waiting, and the groping for a vein for the IV. Apparently I have difficult veins, which I didn't know before this because I'd never had an IV.
He wound up going in the back of my hand which actually hurt me less than the playing around he'd been doing in the crook of my arm.
Then he pushed the "mild" sedative and I approached that state of "ok doc you can cut my head off now just put it back when you're done"... then he pushed the knockout drugs and the next thing I knew, they were waking me up telling me I'd done great and it was time to go now.
Best. Drunk. Ever.
On the flip side, stitches in your mouth feel really weird, my stubborn nature will overcome not sleeping in over 24hrs, then being knocked out for an hour and woken back up, because I have to do Christmas shopping damnit!
Oh, and I look like I took a bat to the right side of my face... no surface bruising but it's swollen like crazy.
I plan to say only "you should see the other guy" when people ask. From the sounds of things I'll be seeing the OS at least once more, and I don't know whether he's going to just sedate me or knock me out for that one, but we'll see.
Meanwhile, vicodin is my friend.
*ETA:
I have a whole new reason to love the oral surgeon aside from the "lets just knock you out and when you wake up it'll all be over with" bit... a few moments ago my phone rang, and it was his office number. I figured they were calling to make sure the pain meds were adequate and I was right... except it was the surgeon himself... "How you doing? Pain medication doing enough? No excessive bleeding or swelling? Any questions now that you're not doped?" .... Yeah, I officially approve of this guy.
Last week I broke a tooth. Since it was Friday night, I wasn't going to get in to see my dentist till Monday at the earliest anyway, I decided to go ahead and go for Tuesday, which I already had scheduled off. I could suck it up that long.
Called in made the appointment, requested the chill pill that keeps me from running screaming from the building a projectile vomiting all over the parking lot... and got told they can't call in a script because it's been too long since they've seen me. Call my GP and get the script. I got this information Monday afternoon (because I sleep during the mornings since I work nights) and would have to leave for my appointment Tuesday morning no later than six am.
Yeah that wasn't going to work out on the whole happy pill thing. I know my dentist. I like my dentist. I figured I could reach down and grab a pair and get through a crown or an extraction with him, if I had to.
Then I got there, and he looked at it, said "that's gotta hurt" took some xrays and basically said I have an infection in all of my back molars, both sides. Tooth had to come out.
Now, the last time I was there we wound up with one dentist sitting on my chest and the other doing some kind of voodoo dance to extract some of my teeth, because the roots are *strong*.
In the interim, my favorite dentist has had a heart attack, his son (the one who did the voodoo dance last time) wasn't in the office Tuesday, and he basically said "I can't do it. We're sending you to an oral surgeon."
That totally helped my whole "don't freak out" mantra.
So after five minutes or so in the parking lot trying mostly unsuccessfully not to hyperventilate we headed over to the oral surgeon's office. Where we waited. And waited. And Waited.
Actually we waited less than an hour but to me it felt like forever.
The nurse came out and explained to us that the surgeon, after looking at the pretty pictures of my teeth and hearing about how I was behaving in his waiting room (pretty much like a scared rabbit, shaking in my seat with occasional leaps to the bathroom or outside) had decided that deep sedation was the best way to go.
It's expensive, but it's best, she said. You're more relaxed and things go better, she said.
Looking back I think the surgeon was afraid I was going to wind up backed into a corner and biting. Which may not have been all that far off the mark.
So yeah, I got knocked out, and I gotta say, as far as minimizing stress and keeping me from freaking the hell out in the middle of a procedure when I haven't been given a mild sedative, it's the way to go.
The worst part of the whole thing was the waiting, and the groping for a vein for the IV. Apparently I have difficult veins, which I didn't know before this because I'd never had an IV.
He wound up going in the back of my hand which actually hurt me less than the playing around he'd been doing in the crook of my arm.
Then he pushed the "mild" sedative and I approached that state of "ok doc you can cut my head off now just put it back when you're done"... then he pushed the knockout drugs and the next thing I knew, they were waking me up telling me I'd done great and it was time to go now.
Best. Drunk. Ever.
On the flip side, stitches in your mouth feel really weird, my stubborn nature will overcome not sleeping in over 24hrs, then being knocked out for an hour and woken back up, because I have to do Christmas shopping damnit!
Oh, and I look like I took a bat to the right side of my face... no surface bruising but it's swollen like crazy.
I plan to say only "you should see the other guy" when people ask. From the sounds of things I'll be seeing the OS at least once more, and I don't know whether he's going to just sedate me or knock me out for that one, but we'll see.
Meanwhile, vicodin is my friend.
*ETA:
I have a whole new reason to love the oral surgeon aside from the "lets just knock you out and when you wake up it'll all be over with" bit... a few moments ago my phone rang, and it was his office number. I figured they were calling to make sure the pain meds were adequate and I was right... except it was the surgeon himself... "How you doing? Pain medication doing enough? No excessive bleeding or swelling? Any questions now that you're not doped?" .... Yeah, I officially approve of this guy.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
These Are Awesome
Due to lack of actual content, I was cruising the web today and came up with an excellent linky AND thinky.
Meet Vi Hart, who, if she ever decided to become a math teacher, would get me to actually take another math class.
Check out the doodles section of her site, that's where I've been engrossed. I have no idea what the maths actually are behind this stuff working but they do and they're fun, even if you aren't artistically inclined.
I've been playing with pencil and fountain pen for a couple of hours now... I'll probably move on to some anagrams later, just because I do words better than math or drawing, but the doodle games are an excellent diversion.
Meet Vi Hart, who, if she ever decided to become a math teacher, would get me to actually take another math class.
Check out the doodles section of her site, that's where I've been engrossed. I have no idea what the maths actually are behind this stuff working but they do and they're fun, even if you aren't artistically inclined.
I've been playing with pencil and fountain pen for a couple of hours now... I'll probably move on to some anagrams later, just because I do words better than math or drawing, but the doodle games are an excellent diversion.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
A New Addition
I'd like to introduce ya'll to a new cast member for the tales and stories here, someone who will probably play a large enough role that he gets his own introduction and his own nickname.
He's going to be an invaluable source of snark and giggles, at least for me.
Ya'll say hi to Darlin' Man. We're... dating? Seeing each other? Doing an environmental impact study on the eventual possibility of our cohabiting? (We're not entirely sure that any one locale can handle the two of us for an extended period. The snark seems to wilt the plants.)
Whatever you want to say that we're doing, we're doing it together, and I really like that.
He also reads the blog, though he doesn't participate, so ya'll behave.
He's going to be an invaluable source of snark and giggles, at least for me.
Ya'll say hi to Darlin' Man. We're... dating? Seeing each other? Doing an environmental impact study on the eventual possibility of our cohabiting? (We're not entirely sure that any one locale can handle the two of us for an extended period. The snark seems to wilt the plants.)
Whatever you want to say that we're doing, we're doing it together, and I really like that.
He also reads the blog, though he doesn't participate, so ya'll behave.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Dear Santa
Dear Santa,
Eldest Nephew is a fantastic kid, he's considerate (most of the time, let's be honest, he's seven, he has his moments, just like any other kid) he's brilliant, with no caveat, and I'm not just saying that because he tells me every time he sees me that I'm his favorite aunt. They stopped testing his reading comprehension coming out of kindergarten when he aced the fourth grade level tests, the kid is smart.
He's also still believing in you, Santa. He wrote you a letter, with no prompting from mom and dad, put it in an envelope and sealed it, and left it in the mailbox. I'm sorry, but his mom pulled it out and kept it when they found it, but you're Santa, you know what he said.
You also know that he dedicated half a page to stuff for his little brother, and I can just see him sitting in the playroom with Youngest Nephew consulting over the list, assuring him that Santa would read the letter, and might bring them these toys.
He hasn't asked us for any of the big things on his list. He knows we can't afford them this year, so he didn't even bring them up. I'd give him the moon, if I could, Santa, but I just can't.
If he doesn't get them, he's not going to be mad, or upset. He's going to get just as excited opening small things as he is big things, because that's just the kind of kid he is.
We stole his letter, so I'm writing you this one in its place. The munchkin deserves a little Christmas Magic, Santa, and even though I stopped listening for reindeer on the roof a long, long time ago, I'd give a lot more than writing a letter to keep him straining his ears.
That's what I want for Christmas, just a little Christmas magic for my nephews.
Auntie FarmGirl
*This is not a bleg. I'm not asking for money to buy big fancy toys for my nephew, and I'll feel really bad if people take it that way. I just wanted to let everyone know how awesome Eldest Nephew is, and well, we took his letter, so I owed him one. Who knows? Maybe Santa reads my blog.
Eldest Nephew is a fantastic kid, he's considerate (most of the time, let's be honest, he's seven, he has his moments, just like any other kid) he's brilliant, with no caveat, and I'm not just saying that because he tells me every time he sees me that I'm his favorite aunt. They stopped testing his reading comprehension coming out of kindergarten when he aced the fourth grade level tests, the kid is smart.
He's also still believing in you, Santa. He wrote you a letter, with no prompting from mom and dad, put it in an envelope and sealed it, and left it in the mailbox. I'm sorry, but his mom pulled it out and kept it when they found it, but you're Santa, you know what he said.
You also know that he dedicated half a page to stuff for his little brother, and I can just see him sitting in the playroom with Youngest Nephew consulting over the list, assuring him that Santa would read the letter, and might bring them these toys.
He hasn't asked us for any of the big things on his list. He knows we can't afford them this year, so he didn't even bring them up. I'd give him the moon, if I could, Santa, but I just can't.
If he doesn't get them, he's not going to be mad, or upset. He's going to get just as excited opening small things as he is big things, because that's just the kind of kid he is.
We stole his letter, so I'm writing you this one in its place. The munchkin deserves a little Christmas Magic, Santa, and even though I stopped listening for reindeer on the roof a long, long time ago, I'd give a lot more than writing a letter to keep him straining his ears.
That's what I want for Christmas, just a little Christmas magic for my nephews.
Auntie FarmGirl
*This is not a bleg. I'm not asking for money to buy big fancy toys for my nephew, and I'll feel really bad if people take it that way. I just wanted to let everyone know how awesome Eldest Nephew is, and well, we took his letter, so I owed him one. Who knows? Maybe Santa reads my blog.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Overheard In The Car
"Yeah I think it's really important that... *gasp* antelope!"
Yeah... Vine has an unhealthy fascination with speed goat and we're going to have to make sure he's given an opportunity to kill one or two.
Yeah... Vine has an unhealthy fascination with speed goat and we're going to have to make sure he's given an opportunity to kill one or two.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Gone Away
I know I've been mostly updating on Sundays, since I have Sunday off, but this weekend I'm taking a couple extra days and heading out of town, so blogging will be extremely light.
Ya'll enjoy yourselves while I'm not here, but don't drink all the booze, I'm gonna need it Tuesday to console myself over having to go back to work.
Ya'll enjoy yourselves while I'm not here, but don't drink all the booze, I'm gonna need it Tuesday to console myself over having to go back to work.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Live! Sweaty! Hogdogs!
An update on the Great Hotsauce Challenge: It'll be broadcast live here!
So, drop a few bucks for the entertainment value and go watch three people melt their innards for charity tonight at 6pm (I'm assuming eastern, if not someone correct me.) Unfortunately I'll be at work so I won't be able to watch.
You know you wanna see it.
So, drop a few bucks for the entertainment value and go watch three people melt their innards for charity tonight at 6pm (I'm assuming eastern, if not someone correct me.) Unfortunately I'll be at work so I won't be able to watch.
You know you wanna see it.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Cover it Up
So, I've been thinking a lot lately about cover garments, and the differences between men and women trying to conceal a gun.
Let's face it, if you're a man, you can probably get away with throwing a wild-ass Hawaiian print shirt over a t-shirt, and you're good. Your wife or girlfriend may sigh, but it's not that big a deal.
Women, on the other hand, have further considerations. I'm not the best fashionista, but even I know that there are times when being baggy and loose may be comfy but probably isn't the best choice. Not to mention, if you're doing it all the time, people start thinking of you as "butch" and that may not be the impression you'd like to send.
I hate being treated like I'm going to break but let's face it there's not much I can do to avoid the delicate look, and the best I can hope for is elegant, which seems to involve lots of long lines and garments that scream "look at me, I have a waist!"
Add in the difficulties posed by women's fashion in concealment in general, and you've got a bit of a pickle.
So, lets address a couple of the problems I've come across and how I get around them. Your mileage may vary.
First, pants. Every woman has that pair of pants that they absolutely adore, the pair that looks good, feels good, and brings a little attitude to her step. Unfortunately that pair of jeans is rarely good for concealing a firearm.
This is one of those moments where you have to compromise. Either you can have the cute outfit that makes you look smokin' hot, or you can carry a gun. Now, I'm not saying that it's impossible to look smokin' hot while stashing a heater, but you have to go about it differently.
Instead of the shirt that just hits the top of your jeans when you reach over your head, you might have to go with something longer. Or instead of the smokin' hot jeans, you might have to go with slightly less hot and more roomy jeans.
Speaking of shirts, it also seems that the t-shirts available (in my size, marketed for my age range, YMMV and do please share in comments because information is a good thing) are leaning towards lightweight and clingy. Not tight, just a light enough material and fitted enough to cling to curves, which is a nice look, but not practical when you're trying to conceal a pistol. I've got one cute top that makes me look like I actually have cleavage (woohoo) and hangs loose and flowy from what I'm told is called an empire waist. The only problem with it is that it apparently looks a bit like a maternity top, but some nights the cleavage is totally worth it.
Personally, when I'm not going somewhere I can't carry, or somewhere that I really don't need to conceal, I like the combination of wranglers, a tank top, and a western shirt tied in front instead of tucked. My gun goes behind my hip, just forward of center over my right butt cheek. The wranglers are just heavy enough to keep the gun inside my waistband from printing obviously, and the bagging of the shirt at the back covers the grip and helps break up the line of the jeans to distract from any printing that might happen anyway.
Another jeans trick that I've heard positive things about but am just not frilly enough to pull off is finding a pair of jeans that has some decorative beading in the area your gun usually rests, or creating your own design. It's a bit counter intuitive because you would think that it would attract the eye to the gun, but the patterning helps blur the outline of the gun, much like camo helps blur the outline of a hunter in the woods. This may be an excellent option if you're a girly girl who would wear that stuff anyway cause it's cute. Unfortunately I'm not one of those people, so this is not an option for me.
It's also tough to remember that what's obvious to you may not be to Joe Blow on the street. Because you know your gun is there and that's what is making that bulge, you're going to see a gun, where Joe Blow may not even see a bulge. Get a second opinion. And a third. Etc. You may wind up saying "drat" a few times over a great look, but you'll start getting an idea of what other people actually see versus what you see because you know what's going on.
Of course, I carry IWB mostly. OWB presents it's own set of problems, since you're not worried about printing so much as actually flashing your gun. Since I don't really carry OWB when I'm not open carrying, I haven't really dealt with those issues much.
So how about it folks, what are your tips and tricks for concealing, and still looking fantastic?
Let's face it, if you're a man, you can probably get away with throwing a wild-ass Hawaiian print shirt over a t-shirt, and you're good. Your wife or girlfriend may sigh, but it's not that big a deal.
Women, on the other hand, have further considerations. I'm not the best fashionista, but even I know that there are times when being baggy and loose may be comfy but probably isn't the best choice. Not to mention, if you're doing it all the time, people start thinking of you as "butch" and that may not be the impression you'd like to send.
I hate being treated like I'm going to break but let's face it there's not much I can do to avoid the delicate look, and the best I can hope for is elegant, which seems to involve lots of long lines and garments that scream "look at me, I have a waist!"
Add in the difficulties posed by women's fashion in concealment in general, and you've got a bit of a pickle.
So, lets address a couple of the problems I've come across and how I get around them. Your mileage may vary.
First, pants. Every woman has that pair of pants that they absolutely adore, the pair that looks good, feels good, and brings a little attitude to her step. Unfortunately that pair of jeans is rarely good for concealing a firearm.
This is one of those moments where you have to compromise. Either you can have the cute outfit that makes you look smokin' hot, or you can carry a gun. Now, I'm not saying that it's impossible to look smokin' hot while stashing a heater, but you have to go about it differently.
Instead of the shirt that just hits the top of your jeans when you reach over your head, you might have to go with something longer. Or instead of the smokin' hot jeans, you might have to go with slightly less hot and more roomy jeans.
Speaking of shirts, it also seems that the t-shirts available (in my size, marketed for my age range, YMMV and do please share in comments because information is a good thing) are leaning towards lightweight and clingy. Not tight, just a light enough material and fitted enough to cling to curves, which is a nice look, but not practical when you're trying to conceal a pistol. I've got one cute top that makes me look like I actually have cleavage (woohoo) and hangs loose and flowy from what I'm told is called an empire waist. The only problem with it is that it apparently looks a bit like a maternity top, but some nights the cleavage is totally worth it.
Personally, when I'm not going somewhere I can't carry, or somewhere that I really don't need to conceal, I like the combination of wranglers, a tank top, and a western shirt tied in front instead of tucked. My gun goes behind my hip, just forward of center over my right butt cheek. The wranglers are just heavy enough to keep the gun inside my waistband from printing obviously, and the bagging of the shirt at the back covers the grip and helps break up the line of the jeans to distract from any printing that might happen anyway.
Another jeans trick that I've heard positive things about but am just not frilly enough to pull off is finding a pair of jeans that has some decorative beading in the area your gun usually rests, or creating your own design. It's a bit counter intuitive because you would think that it would attract the eye to the gun, but the patterning helps blur the outline of the gun, much like camo helps blur the outline of a hunter in the woods. This may be an excellent option if you're a girly girl who would wear that stuff anyway cause it's cute. Unfortunately I'm not one of those people, so this is not an option for me.
It's also tough to remember that what's obvious to you may not be to Joe Blow on the street. Because you know your gun is there and that's what is making that bulge, you're going to see a gun, where Joe Blow may not even see a bulge. Get a second opinion. And a third. Etc. You may wind up saying "drat" a few times over a great look, but you'll start getting an idea of what other people actually see versus what you see because you know what's going on.
Of course, I carry IWB mostly. OWB presents it's own set of problems, since you're not worried about printing so much as actually flashing your gun. Since I don't really carry OWB when I'm not open carrying, I haven't really dealt with those issues much.
So how about it folks, what are your tips and tricks for concealing, and still looking fantastic?
Quotes at Last
Finally sat down and got the winners posted on the sidebar over there, so I'm not quite so much of a bad blogger now. Congrats to the winners!
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Great Hot Sauce Challenge
I got an email this morning from Brent C. the originator of the Great Hot Sauce Challenge, asking me to pimp it one more time... I can do that.
Folks this is a great cause, Brent's 19 year old daughter has stepped up to the plate with him, to melt her face off right beside her dad. There is also an as yet unknown third party involved. Three people will be yelling "Come On Icecream!" In order to help out a guy and his family.
Drop a few bucks in AD's tip jar to boost the effort, there's only 48 hours left. AD is giving away an EMS Monopoly game to the highest donation, and I'll throw in a Blogorado shirt of your choice or one of the upcoming "Minion" buttons.
Let's blow up this fundraiser, and maybe they'll video the challenge and let us share it with ya'll.
Edit To Add: There will be video, and also a live feed at the forum where this all started. You can see the thread about the challenge without signing up, so you'll probably be able to see the feed as well but I don't have confirmation on that. Still, if you have to sign up to see it, why not??
Folks this is a great cause, Brent's 19 year old daughter has stepped up to the plate with him, to melt her face off right beside her dad. There is also an as yet unknown third party involved. Three people will be yelling "Come On Icecream!" In order to help out a guy and his family.
Drop a few bucks in AD's tip jar to boost the effort, there's only 48 hours left. AD is giving away an EMS Monopoly game to the highest donation, and I'll throw in a Blogorado shirt of your choice or one of the upcoming "Minion" buttons.
Let's blow up this fundraiser, and maybe they'll video the challenge and let us share it with ya'll.
Edit To Add: There will be video, and also a live feed at the forum where this all started. You can see the thread about the challenge without signing up, so you'll probably be able to see the feed as well but I don't have confirmation on that. Still, if you have to sign up to see it, why not??
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Blown Away
Had a very long night at work and I'm attempting to be somewhat zen about it even though I'm not very good at it. Stress levels are moderately high (I'm not imagining clock towers and rifles yet, but I have fantasized about strangling people) and in an attempt to putter myself into a mental state in which I can sleep, I checked out my sitemeter.
Somehow, even with the extremely sporadic posting and the lack of the stories that I originally started this blog with, I'm still gaining readers, it seems.
Last time I paid much attention I had about a hundred hits per day. I've gained fifty to a hundred more on average since then. Granted this is judging from the last week or so, so some of those might be from the CCM article... I just wonder how many people would go to the trouble to find the blog since the URL wasn't given.
Anyway, welcome new readers, wherever you hail from (and I'm always interested in hearing how folks found my blog, if you care to share) feel free to poke around the archives, especially since the best stuff is in there.
To all of my readers, new and old, thanks for reading. Just looking at that little number made me smile a little tonight, when I really needed it.
Somehow, even with the extremely sporadic posting and the lack of the stories that I originally started this blog with, I'm still gaining readers, it seems.
Last time I paid much attention I had about a hundred hits per day. I've gained fifty to a hundred more on average since then. Granted this is judging from the last week or so, so some of those might be from the CCM article... I just wonder how many people would go to the trouble to find the blog since the URL wasn't given.
Anyway, welcome new readers, wherever you hail from (and I'm always interested in hearing how folks found my blog, if you care to share) feel free to poke around the archives, especially since the best stuff is in there.
To all of my readers, new and old, thanks for reading. Just looking at that little number made me smile a little tonight, when I really needed it.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Do You Get Concealed Carry Magazine?
If you do, and you read this month's Profile, you might be wondering if you've found the right Tractor Tracks blog. Or you might already be a reader and be wondering if it's the same Farm Family.
Well, the answer to both is yes. That's me, and us. If you got here because of the article, welcome, feel free to poke around, and definitely try Farmmom's recipes.
I would like to say, however, that I don't think I am nearly as awesome as Oleg painted me to be. I'm just me, and I'm willing to grant that I can be kind of awesome, but really, not all that awesome.
Thanks for all the complements to Oleg though, and thanks to CCM for thinking we're cool enough to be in the magazine.
Well, the answer to both is yes. That's me, and us. If you got here because of the article, welcome, feel free to poke around, and definitely try Farmmom's recipes.
I would like to say, however, that I don't think I am nearly as awesome as Oleg painted me to be. I'm just me, and I'm willing to grant that I can be kind of awesome, but really, not all that awesome.
Thanks for all the complements to Oleg though, and thanks to CCM for thinking we're cool enough to be in the magazine.
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