Arrant Nonsense

Anyone got a boa constrictor or python I can borrow?

So, yeah, Da Boy knocks on my bedroom door at 9am (which is an hour before I usually get up when the Hubby's off on a three-day trip, which he is now) and proceeds to tell me that "we have a rat."

Rather impatiently (because, seriously, not at my best that time of the morning), I shoo him back downstairs after informing him that he must be mistaken and that it was probably just a gopher (which we have ongoing problems with and are old hat), and what did he expect me to do about it right this minute anyway? It couldn't wait an hour?

I eventually wander downstairs to find him peering out the front window. "See?" he says triumphantly.

Why, yes. Yes, I do. You did not inform me, child, that the creature you saw was in the front yard. That was important information. I still might have dismissed it as over-active imagination (I should learn to trust my men more, because I had the same reaction to the Hubby one year when he informed me that we had a bear in the tree right over the Jeep we were sleeping in at 2am, camping--and I figured it was probably a raccoon until I saw it and realized that THERE HAD BEEN A BEAR NOT THREE FEET AWAY FROM ME WHILE I SLEPT IN A JEEP WITH AN OPEN BACK), and wondered if our mice (which are, thankfully, gone) had moved around to the front, but I wouldn't have had the immediate thought of "gopher."

This is no gopher. This is a rat, y'all. And not a little rat, or a muskrat, either. It's a rat the size of a fucking soda can. And it's apparently taken up residence under my front porch.

I just hope the damned thing didn't bring along friends and relatives, because holy shit.

The mice were tolerable. The occasional (garter) snake is freakin' awesome. I love the ducks. I don't mind the mild odor of skunk wafting over the neighborhood. The muskrats in the canal a block away are adorable. The gophers are a nuisance and I don't like them much, but I don't have a KILL IT WITH FIRE reaction.

But I draw the line at gorram rats.

And yes, I realize that, considering the mouse problem we had not that long ago, I should perhaps create a "vermin" tag.

Hey, there, you big beady-eyed bastard:

In which the internet thinks my child is awesome.

Well, Da Boy was going to go to the beach to visit his grandma and grandpa, but those plans have fallen through because of scheduling conflicts and the fact that it's not actually necessary for us to find a weekend sitter for him this week like it has been the last two years. Usually, I've got CONduit and the Hubby has a Major Drag Race at RMR, but this year the track sucks, so the Hubby decided to sit racing out until after this race, when they will have more rubber on the track and he won't have to launch in second gear.

He may take Da Boy to Colorado to see his other grandma (oh please oh please oh please), or they may just stay home; he hasn't decided yet.

Thanks to Word Wars, I've done a little over 800 words today. I'd like to do a couple hundred more. Poor Ben. I'm not really dumping more on his head so much as filling in blanks right now, but...yeah. Moon time is hard for him in this place.

The birthday party is over, and no one cried. Yay.

Da Boy is very happy. The Gray Cat has a balloon tied to her tail (courtesy of the Hubby), which doesn't appear to be freaking her out in the least.

All in all, a success.

a birthday party for Da Boy in a half hour. This is the first time we've had a party for him with other kids. He turns eight tomorrow. OMG.

Wish us luck. Upload Southern Comfort.

And then, after that, we're getting a visit from the lovely and effulgent ithildyn and ninjababe. Should be fun!

I added another line of description to the not!kkbb/im novelthing. Go, me for remembering that not!Harry has scars ringing his wrists and that he might rub them when telling not!Harmony about what happened to him in Afghanistan. Nice character moment.

Will probably be scarce the rest of the day on both IM and LJ.

Da Boy biffed it pretty hard on his bike last night. This was his first bad wreck, and he was pretty upset. Apparently one of the pedals just came right off and caused him to lose control.

But he wasn't upset about being hurt. Not much, anyway.

He was upset because he thought he was going to need a new bike, because this one was "broken."

He was very relieved when the Hubby fixed it for him this morning.

He's scraped up a little, but no broken bones and no concussion. Yay for helmets.

The weather sucks today, so rather than taking the day off from school the way we thought about, we're going to go ahead and have school and take a day off when it's actually, you know...nice outside. The high today is supposed to be in the 50's. WTF, Mother Nature? IT'S JUNE.

This has been a shit day.

Sometimes I seriously, seriously wonder if I'm cut out for this. Seriously.

I may need me some Jamocha therapy after this. Which would be a shame, since I lost a pound yesterday. In fact, stepping on the scale this morning was the only bright spot of the day. Which made a nice change from the usual, but damn. Did it all have to go downhill from there?

But yay for 133.4 this morning. I shall have strawberries instead of a fast food shake. Yes.

And at least the branch of the library that really has an excellent SF collection has The Grantville Gazette I. So I'm not going to have to either go all over creation to find it, or reserve it online and then have to wait.

This is, of course, assuming we get out of the house today. Because Da Boy is being a big ol' Delay Fish here. We should have been done with school nearly an hour ago...

So, I was to pick up Da Boy in Texas yesterday. His aunt (my sister) needed to go to work today, so I was going to fly out to DFW, meet them at the airport, and fly back. ( Good times. Or...not. )

So, the timeline looks something like this:
6:00am -- get up, shower, dress, break garage door.
7:00am -- arrive at SLC International Airport.
8:30am -- plane takes off; we're supposed to land in DFW at noon, Texas time.
12:30pm -- plane lands in Wichita Falls.
3:00pm -- we take off from Wichita Falls.
4:00pm -- we land at DFW. I get in that long-ass ticket counter line.
6:15pm -- I make it up to the counter.
9:00pm -- The flight to SLC takes off.
11:00pm -- We land in SLC.

The times are all local, I think. I really should have been writing this stuff down...but I also didn't have a frelling pen.

Just...wow.

And I'm back in Utah.



I wibbled a teensy bit. He's very excited. Of course, tonight, when he has to go to bed without benefit of the DingDog or his brown dog pillow or kissing Mommy night-night, this may change.

I hope he has fun. I hope he's good. I hope he wants to come back home.

Many many many thanks to my wonderful sister, who is taking care of him this week so I can go to a Con all three days and the Hubby can go to his race (if he wants to go and just watch, since the car isn't ready).

When checking flight availability for a trip from SLC to DFW, it helps to input the departure and destination airports, rather than just the date. The software is not psychic.

Da Boy is going to visit his Aunt next week. This will entail me being in airplanes or airports most of Wednesday, as I'm going with him to DFW and then flying home by myself the same day. I'll bring the computer and plenty of reading material, and might even get some writing done. I'd really like to finish the Faerie Show Fic sometime this century.

The purpose of this is so that I can go to CONduit without worrying about anything. The Hubby was going to have a weekend race, but he thinks the car is broken and hasn't had time to tear into it yet, and then he has to work on Sunday. Sending Da Boy to see his Aunt gives me the freedom to enjoy the Con all weekend, and also broadens his horizons a little.

This will be the first time he's been without us halfway across the country. I should be wibbling. Why am I not wibbling?