AKA the Bybee Memo.

What I’ve really been wondering about lately is how the Abu Ghraib crimes will affect costumes this coming Halloween.

After returning from a hike yesterday I abandoned my family (at least, that’s the way they seemed to see it) and drove into Vienna to meet someone I will call R.

My girls seem to be getting used to me meeting bloggers by now, but they still have to explain it to their grandparents.

Grandmother: He’s what?
Gamma: He’s going to Vienna to meet a girl from the Internet.

I had to fill her car’s tank and run to the U-Pick for a basket of strawberries before Alpha let me leave.

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(originally posted September 2003)

Put a dish of catfood into the hotel last night. When we checked this morning, the food was gone, except for the aspic. This tells me it was not a cat, as the aspic is the first thing the cats eat. It may have been a rat, not sure how they feel about aspic, though, I would imagine they eat everything. So it was probably a hedgehog. Anyone know if they like aspic?

Father:So is there some European soccer championship going on or something?
Daughter: [Yawn, bite toast] Apparently so.

My dad had to wait until my little sister came along before he had someone to talk baseball with. She was a tomboy and a jock and a really, really competitive softball player. They played catch. There would be a baseball game on the TV and they’d be all, “Eh, Peterson’s in a slump, his F.B.I. is down, waaay down, threethirtysevenpointnine or something,” and “Yeah and his NAFTA is ninetwentyeleventyfive and don’t even ask me about his KKK and NAACP,” and I’d be, “I just made some strawberry pie, anyone want a piece?”

So it was satisfying this morning to discover that I can talk sports with my daughter now too.