Huzzah

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

heather — 2008-11-18T07:20:39-08:00

It will come as no surprise to anyone, I'm sure, that I am a city girl, born, and mostly bred (we'll ignore the early years in west Texan deserts and western North Carolina mountains. Speak of this to no one). I appreciate nature, but I appreciate it most from behind a healthy amount of viewing glass, not least because it all makes me sneeze mightily, but also because, frankly, I respect that a lot of the fauna has...big teeth. We don't live in a city right now, and while we don't exactly live out in the country, we *are* up in the hills of San Mateo County, and quite close to Edgewood Park, which is a smallish but nice county park. With...fauna. As in big teeth fauna. As discovered anew last night at about midnight when Gene was out walking the dogs around the corner from our house and came face to face with a mountain lion.

A MOUNTAIN. LION. Lion, from the mountain. Cougar. Puma. Whatever the hell you want to call it, it had big teeth.

Being the country boy that he is, he just stood his ground and the cat kept on its delicious venison hunting mission (BEHIND OUR HOUSE), and didn't even blink at the tasty and available medium sized dogs on pull strings (who, incidentally, apparently didn't even notice the big honking predator in their midst. Useless fleabags).

He called the sheriff, who gave him Fish & Game's number, where there is...nothing for reporting these things. You can report poaching, apparently, but not, say, semi-urban sightings. Huh.

I freely admit this whole experience rattled me a bit, even though I rationally know that there are enough deer and house cats and squirrels around here to keep even the hungriest mountain lion satiated, but oh, for a nice rabid city raccoon or a filthy pigeon. Sigh.

Surreal Like Dali With a Side of Absinthe

heather — 2008-11-13T18:25:09-08:00

A friend pointed me to Overheard In Minneapolis, which is insane in its own right, but if you go to Overheard Around The World, it gets even better. It's like the cheapest, least unhealthy trip ever. I am particularly fond of this entry from Overheard In New York:

You Always Hertz the One You Love

Thug on cell: Yo, hearse rent a car? Yo man, I need to rent a hearse. Yeah, I'll hold. (pause) Y'all don't rent no hearses? Why y'all call yoselfs hearse rent a car? (pause) Word? Well, I need to move a body, maybe you got a van or something? (pause) I don't care, I just need to move his dead ass. (pause) Cargo van? Whatever. Yeah.
Thug's friend: Ask if they got am'blances.

--Grand Concourse, 158 St

I'm still laughing, because my sense of humor is felonious. See? Surrealism.

Perhaps We'll Rethink Our Stance On Public vs Private...

heather — 2008-11-12T08:36:31-08:00

Note that it's a distinguished school...from 1997. The middle school where I taught was like this, a one time distinguished school from years ago - never could quite figure that one out. Though maybe the below image explains it:

Thanks to FailBlog

All Your Dollhouse Are Belong To...

heather — 2008-11-11T21:13:44-08:00

Well, me. For tonight. We got Peabo a dollhouse for her upcoming second birthday, and my mom, sister, and sister in law pitched in with furniture sets and doll families to make it a real plug-and-play. Gene and I put it together tonight and as much as I loved my 2 up, 2 down-handmade-by-Grandpa dollhouse as a kid, this 8 piece modular one makes me drool. I spent a gleeful ten or fifteen minutes arranging the furniture (and it is so.cute.you.would.die), prompting Gene to take a picture of me and ask "and...whose dollhouse is this again?".

Tonight, it's mine. As of Sunday, it's hers and I will play whatever imaginary game she wants.

Warning: Cheesiness Ahead

heather — 2008-11-06T15:27:21-08:00

There, you've been forewarned. Anyway, I was driving up to the city today and as I got into town, happened to see a young black man walking on an overpass over the freeway. Just a regular teenager, plugged into his iPod like every other kid out there. What struck me was, regardless of what happens in the next four years, regardless of your personal politics, a corner has been turned where maybe we can look at every child and see limitless potential...for real.

I'm going to paraphrase a line from Ratatouille, one of our favorite movies around here:

"Not everyone can become a leader...but a leader can come from anywhere"

Cheesiness off. Back to eating the kids' Hallowe'en candy.

On A Funnier Note

heather — 2008-11-05T17:50:20-08:00

Peabo is quite fond of the Little Einsteins (so are we and Bean too, for that matter - good music and art), and we discovered this past weekend that she can actually ask for it by name...sort of.

Gene had ripped a DVD for his laptop and my iPhone to take with us for plane and other location entertainment, and at one point during the trip, Peabo started shouting very emphatically, "STEINS!"

Is it just me, or does it sound like she's reprimanding a kvetching couple from Palm Beach? It never fails to crack us up, at any rate.

Pyrrhic Victory

heather — 2008-11-05T12:25:35-08:00

In California, we have it.

Today is a hell of a day. We fucked up. Big time.

Gobsmackery

heather — 2008-11-04T13:57:41-08:00

I had of course heard for months upon months that voter turnout was expected to be at an unprecedented high this Election Day. This did not prepare me for the crowd at my polling place at 10 a.m., not to mention the friendly, efficient processing of all of us by the poll workers.

As a former U.S. history and government teacher, I can say with some certainty that I was a bit choked with national pride. Regardless of your vote, you VOTED. All I can think is, democracy, we're doing it right.

And anyway, for the record, I voted Obama and No on Prop 8 (California). I know, you're all so surprised.

On The Road Again

heather — 2008-10-29T18:06:47-08:00

We're heading out tomorrow for Ohio, to our niece and nephew's b'nai mitzvah festivities - the question remains, can the Hoffmans make it through 4-5 hours on a plane with an almost 2 year old? Can we all four sleep at all in one hotel room? Can the wimpy Californians survive a Midwestern autumn?

Update on Monday. STAY TUNED.

Shilling for Guernsey

heather — 2008-10-10T23:33:05-08:00

I'm not much of a fiction reader these days, but I was given the below mentioned book nearly direct from the source (the editor, in fact - new squeeze of an old friend of ours - whoop! Excellent connection to have, no?). I had been reading it in snippets until I found myself standing immobile in the hallway, trying to eke out a few more pages before the kids demanded my attention, or hiding in the bathroom to do the same. Tonight, I finally said, 'Oh hell, finish it, Heather' - and just did. It is such a charming, charming book, in the best sense of the word.

And now I really want to go to the Channel Islands.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Worth Every Roadblock

heather — 2008-10-03T15:27:44-08:00

There was a big fantod to get Bean into full inclusion this year for first grade; I stood my ground and she is having a wonderful year already. It was underscored multiple times by the below note, which came home today in her backpack:

I am, as you can imagine, a weepy mess. But a good weepy mess. Now I get the fun of helping Bean make a picture or maybe something using Braille stickers for her 'bist friend'.

It's a long road, but every so often, it has the most beautiful vistas.

Even The Heart Attacks Are Bigger & Better

heather — 2008-10-01T18:01:44-08:00

Oh, the pride I feel in my ancestral state. Most of you probably know that the food from the Texas State Fair is...inspired. But this...this goes beyond all realm of inspiration into God's own cookbook:

Chicken. Fried. Bacon.

CHICKEN.FRIED.BACON.

P.S. I got waylaid at Chicken Fried Bacon. I did not see Fried Grilled Cheese. Or Fried Jelly Beans. Or Deep Fried S'mores. Ignited Moon Pie. You see the commonality. The stars at night, are big and bright...and then they explode. (Clap clap clap clap)

No Longer Entirely One-Sided

heather — 2008-09-28T13:10:13-08:00

Daylight conversations in the Hoffman house generally consist of me keeping up a constant stream of natter, occasionally interspersed with increasingly intelligible utterances by Peabo; we're still in that period where she frequently makes sense to me or Gene, but few others (though apparently her bilingualism is coming on a treat, at least according to our two Spanish speaking babysitters), and most of the time, her statements are "I want" type things: "outside", "that", "more". She does actually say "thank you" consistently now, which is thrilling and charming in equal measure (technically it's TENKZ! but that is thank you, I assure you), and we spend a lot of time getting her to say the word "squirrel" because it's screamingly funny (SKEERL!).

All that being said, we have not had much experience in information giving, if you will; I should say rather information that requires action, until just now. To wit, I was standing in the kitchen cleaning up from lunch, and she trots in, looks at me and says, quite clearly, "I pood". I made some non-committal noise like "oh?" thinking she's just making noise. Again, louder, "I POOD". Finally dawns on stupid mother that maybe checking the diaper is useful, and bugger me, she had. Needless to say, I made a huge deal out of how helpful that was for her to come and impart said information, la la la - she was pleased with herself, I was pleased with herself, and the world just got a little bit easier.

In keeping with the facilities themed post for today, Bean has finally discovered that using the regular bathroom installation is not scary and now will use it after school quite easily and consistently. Is this a small step? Yes, in many ways, but for us - a massive one. I had accepted the fact that we might be dealing with other methods of waste management forever, but I'm realizing that maybe - just maybe - we're on the right track. I think kids with cerebral palsy can have a really challenging time with toilet training, no matter which part you're dealing with, so *anything* that helps in that direction is like getting an Oscar and a Nobel Prize in one.

I really hope no one was eating while reading this...back to normal, non-potty topics tomorrow.

Mood: Pedantic

heather — 2008-09-19T22:45:47-08:00

Let me start off by assuring y'all I love the movie "Gladiator", even with all the hacking and gore and stuff that I kind of knit or websurf through, but I have to say, the thing that irritates me to hell and back is reading the "Goofs" section on IMDB. I mean, some of these goofs are just so ridiculously dumb it makes you want to gnaw your own arm. A budget that big and they couldn't be bothered to have a proper Roman historian fact checker on staff?

I once thought that a greatly fun job would be just that, a research drone for movies and television; it only just now dawned on me that, shit - I'm sort of on the right path for doing something like that, particularly with an undergrad degree in history. Heh!

Oh, don't worry, I'll do something far more communally beneficial with my degree, I promise. I can still make a hobby out of being a snarky pedant.

WWJR?

heather — 2008-09-18T12:50:03-08:00

I'd like to think Jesus had a sense of humor, and he would read Cracked. I know this article makes anyone with half a brain cell giggle.

Two of my favorite lines are:

It's not that all Christians are crazy, it's just that the religion seems to give certain types of crazy people a chance to shine. These are the ones who can't worry about the homeless because they're too busy doing things like decoding secret gay propaganda in cartoons.

and

Both Focus on the Family and the American Family Association complained about a Spongebob video that was delivered to schools in which Spongebob has the balls to try to teach children to be accepting of others. Now you know Jesus isn't going to stand for that shit.

I have to say, I'm not one to believe in the Second Coming, I'll be honest, but there is a part of me that would love to see it happen if only to hear Jesus say "Yeah, ok, all the intolerance stuff in my name? BAD MOVE. Y'all be fucked. See you on the other side!"

Slutbucks and SpongeBob. Jesus Christ.