27 Ways to be a Modern Major General

The self-help column at the New York Times recently featured a piece by Brian Lombardi giving a couple dozen tips on how to be a "Modern Man."  For men who want to go to the next level, adding military prowess to an already-impressive list of abilities which include correctly identifying brands of women's shoes and plugging in the phone each night, I offer the following:

27 Ways to be a Modern Major General

1.  Have information vegetable, animal, and mineral.

2.  Know the kings of England.

3.  Understand equations, both the simple and quadratical.

4.  Quote the battles of history in order, from Marathon to Waterloo.
 
5.  Teem with news about binomial theorum

6.  Share cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.

7.  know the mythic history of King Arthur.

8.  Be very good at integral and differential calculus.

9. Answer hard acrostics.

10. Show good taste in paradoxes.

11.  Identify paintings by Raphael and Gerard Dow.

12.  Know the croaking chorus from the Frogs of Aristophanes.

13.  Hum a fugue, having heard the music before but once.

14.  Write a dry cleaning list in Balylonic cuneiform.

15.  Tell every detail of Caractacus' uniform.

16.  Know what is meant by "mamelon" and "ravelin."

17.  Demonstrate, at sight, that you know the difference between a javelin and a rifle.


18.  Be wary when conducting sorties and surprises.
 
19.  Know precisely what is meant by "commissariat."

20.  Learn what progress has been made in modern gunnery.

21.  Be sure that women in a convent aren't more tactically knowledgeable than yourself.

22.  Have a smattering of elemental strategy.

23.  Know how to ride a horse.

24.  Be plucky and adventure-y.

25.  Be an orphan, or lie about being one.

26.  Have a couple dozen daughters all the same age.

27.  Avoid at all costs blights upon the family escutcheon.

Still off the air

Our media blackout is, I think, a good thing and already bearing fruit as far as the family is concerned.  It's tough, and it's inconvenient sometimes, but it isn't the end of the world.  I've read a lot of books, and played with V and the baby a lot more than (at least it seems like a lot more than) I used to, or than I think I would have if I had the internet to distract me.  It's nice, and the only thing that might be a bit of a trick is gathering what I need to "do music" with the co-op kids starting on Friday.  But it might be simpler than I'm making it out to be, so I decided not to stress until after the first class is over and I see where I stand.  Complexity-wise.  And such.

But the main thing I've been thinking about lately is that my sweet little sister is going to the convent in a week.  I wish I could be there.

I Shall Update Thee

But only briefly.  Like, I'll do quick takes until I run out of takes.

1. We're moved in to our house and it's awesome and lovely and full of stuff.  We triaged the boxes so it looks livable and cozy, except that if you open the closets you see much less livability and cozyness.

2.Wicked hot out there.

3. Also a thunderstorm.

4. Canceled the home internet in an effort to become more attuned to the modern culture.  This could slow blogging, but since we're basically already at a stop in that department I'm not too worried.

5. Hosting a tupperware party this month, my first ever.  It's been four months since I had a party of this type, which is about my normal span before going boing and having to buy a bunch more stuff that I prolly don't need.

6. Also a thunderstorm.

7. Discovered the other day that one of my two remaining classes won't be offered again until October, so I gave myself the rest of the summer off and probably will choose an elective to start in September.  No word yet on that will cause reevaluation in the internet department.

8. Started doing a modified Dave Ramsey money thing, more accurately titled "who can go the longest without spening any money."  We're both losing at the moment.  Too many trips, thunderstorms, weddings, promotions, visitors, and children to make this an easy task.  I guess it isn't supposed to be easy?

9. All done.  Email me if you want to buy some tupperware.  If enough gets bought through my party, apparently I get a free kitten or something.

Once Upon A Time

I talked him into something really fun to do for the rest of our lives.

Ha ha ha.

C, E-flat, and G walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Sorry, but we don't serve minors."So E-flat leaves, and C and G have an open fifth between them. After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished, and G is out flat. 

F walks over and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough. D comes in, and heads for the bathroom, saying, "Excuse me; I'll just be a second." Then A comes in, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor. Then the bartender notices B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and says, "Get out! You're the seventh minor I've found in this bar tonight." E-flat comes back the next night in a three-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender says, "You're looking sharp tonight. Come on in, this could be a major development." 

Sure enough, E-flat soon takes off his suit and everything else, and is au natural. Eventually C sobers up and realizes in horror that he's under a rest. C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenced to 10 years of D.S. without Coda at an upscale correctional facility. "

Love you, Mom!

This little boy loves him some gramma.  :)  

(and she's not sad in this picture, she's sleepy because she had just finished driving us home after Christmas)

I Spy Progressification

There are about 80 steps for each room in getting ready to move, I swear.  The upstairs bathroom is "done," meaning all that's left to do up there is clean it, which of course I'm not interested in doing until next week right before I actually leave.  The downstairs bathroom is "almost done," I have to go through the cabinet and toss/give/use the leftover stuff under there.

There are no paintings or curtains anywhere any more, except in the library.  That curtain is actually installed properly and I need help (and the drill) to get it down.  Every book in the house is on a shelf (yes, this is an accomplishment).  The fridge is denuded of magnets and other accessories. 

And that's it.  That's all that I can check off.  Everything else is in broadly varying stages of undone, some things waiting because I need help, some things waiting because they can't be done while people still live here, and most things waiting because I just don't feel like doing them.  So much work!  So much discipline!

I think I'll transcribe more of Del Valle's journal instead.