Of Robot Armies and Fry Bread
Jul. 9th, 2009 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neversremedy8Yesterday, Ana assembled the first robot for her future robot army. Beware! Doom! Fear the coming of ...
THE HAPPY HOPPING FROG
It's solar powered, so at least you know you're relatively safe in the NorthWest, but yea gods, if the sun is shining, watch out! It hops forward a quarter centimeter every second! And it hops in circles and off widowsills!
It was overcast yesterday, so we didn't get to see it in action until today. (Pictures forthcoming.)
Gwyn watched it hopping above his head for a while, not sure whether to eat it or run away. I watched in vain hoping it would turn and hop on his head and send him flying (evil, I know), but he determined it not a threat and trotted off to shit in my garden again (we dug all that up and made circular mounds so it could be his grande outdoor litter box, you know), and only then did the happy hopping frog bring doom upon the ground below.
This week we cleaned our bedrooms, and today I finished cleaning the kitchen (note: clean, not organized, which is maddening), and now we have the guest bathroom and family room to finish before it's presentable. But again, still not FUCKING ORGANIZED. (Down, Virgo, down!)
I had the pleasure of discussing the Twilight Saga with my goddaughter over FaceBook. After 27 messages shared between us, many of them each lengthy, I realized we both enjoyed them immensely no matter our bitching about angsty, whiny, insecure teens (and their vapire counterparts). We discussed who was lickable and found our tastes were not always in harmony, but it left us without any bickering. Well, except maybe over Carlisle, but if I had Jasper (if I was Alice), then I suppose I could forgo Carlisle, although I suspect Esme of dressing in leather and brandishing a bullwhip to keep him ... compassionate. ;) All that flagellation does things to a young man's mind. But it's clear to me Jasper is at least a switch, with a strong dominant streak, despite the pained expression in his high school camo. Still need to write that X-rated fanfic.
Tonight we made red snapper in chili powder and lemon thyme, roasted corn in chipotle, sauteed zucchini (in with the fish), and Ana made fry bread. It was her first real attempt at cooking, and I guided her while she made and kneaded the dough into three balls, patted them down, and we left them to "rest" while we picked up Craig at Soulfood. When we got back, she patted them again, and I fried them up with the rest of our food.
They were excellent! We were almost finished, and she was eating the last bites of her fry bread when she started freaking out, saying, "I couldn't have made this. Someone came into our house while we were out and did something to the dough to make it good." It took fifteen minutes to assure her that she did make it, that she did a good job, and she was welcome to try again another night.
Silly girl.
But I'm warning, the army is being assembled!
It's solar powered, so at least you know you're relatively safe in the NorthWest, but yea gods, if the sun is shining, watch out! It hops forward a quarter centimeter every second! And it hops in circles and off widowsills!
It was overcast yesterday, so we didn't get to see it in action until today. (Pictures forthcoming.)
Gwyn watched it hopping above his head for a while, not sure whether to eat it or run away. I watched in vain hoping it would turn and hop on his head and send him flying (evil, I know), but he determined it not a threat and trotted off to shit in my garden again (we dug all that up and made circular mounds so it could be his grande outdoor litter box, you know), and only then did the happy hopping frog bring doom upon the ground below.
This week we cleaned our bedrooms, and today I finished cleaning the kitchen (note: clean, not organized, which is maddening), and now we have the guest bathroom and family room to finish before it's presentable. But again, still not FUCKING ORGANIZED. (Down, Virgo, down!)
I had the pleasure of discussing the Twilight Saga with my goddaughter over FaceBook. After 27 messages shared between us, many of them each lengthy, I realized we both enjoyed them immensely no matter our bitching about angsty, whiny, insecure teens (and their vapire counterparts). We discussed who was lickable and found our tastes were not always in harmony, but it left us without any bickering. Well, except maybe over Carlisle, but if I had Jasper (if I was Alice), then I suppose I could forgo Carlisle, although I suspect Esme of dressing in leather and brandishing a bullwhip to keep him ... compassionate. ;) All that flagellation does things to a young man's mind. But it's clear to me Jasper is at least a switch, with a strong dominant streak, despite the pained expression in his high school camo. Still need to write that X-rated fanfic.
Tonight we made red snapper in chili powder and lemon thyme, roasted corn in chipotle, sauteed zucchini (in with the fish), and Ana made fry bread. It was her first real attempt at cooking, and I guided her while she made and kneaded the dough into three balls, patted them down, and we left them to "rest" while we picked up Craig at Soulfood. When we got back, she patted them again, and I fried them up with the rest of our food.
They were excellent! We were almost finished, and she was eating the last bites of her fry bread when she started freaking out, saying, "I couldn't have made this. Someone came into our house while we were out and did something to the dough to make it good." It took fifteen minutes to assure her that she did make it, that she did a good job, and she was welcome to try again another night.
Silly girl.
But I'm warning, the army is being assembled!
