I wear plaid. I'm a blogger.

I'm gonna make me one of these some day http://www.instructables.com/id/Rubens-Tube-Yule-Log/

One of my favorite comedians of all time is Bill Cosby. Why? you may ask. Because Bill Cosby is witty, humorous, and a great role model. In fact, it was just this morning that I decided to listen to some of the great advice that Bill Cosby has to offer. This particular piece of advice comes from one of his most famous bits about preparing breakfast for his children. If you are at all a Bill Cosby fan then perhaps you are a step ahead of me and you already know the rest of the story. Allow me to cut to the chase: I devoured half of a chocolate cake for breakfast this morning. Yum. And thanks Bill. In other news, I have spent the past two weeks (from SuperBowl Sunday to Oscar Sunday) working on home rehab projects; the last of which was completed this past weekend. Since the SuperBowl, Katie and I have framed in a doorway which used to be a wall, expanded our closet, installed a utility tub, and built industrial shelving. I have decided two things after completing these projects: ...

It was a dark and stormy night. And very cold, if I remember correctly. That was the night the white, trashy midget came into my life. She sat in my front yard (or rather, my neighbor's foreclosed driveway) and brightened up the place with her presence. Through rain, through snow, and through falling tree branches, nothing seemed to damper her spirits (which were pretty thoroughly rusted away anyhow). There she sat. Just waiting to be gutted for spare parts and random projects. Until....yesterday. They came like a thief in the night to take her away. Except....it was the day, and they were tow truck drivers. Oh well. They loaded her up and drove off, laughing merrily to themselves at the income they would collect at the bank's expense for towing away such a tiny hunk of rusted metal. And now, the white, trashy midget is no longer a part of my life. You will be missed.

And the end tally....Squirrels 0, Daniel 1 After much headache, heartache, and backache, the squirrels are gone. They survived expanding foam, loud noises, new gutters, and even escaped the clutches of The Cage. But if there's one thing a squirrel can't stand, it's having their access branches cut down. That's right. I climbed up a 24' ladder into the limited reaches of a 124' tree and sawed the 4 low hanging branches that the squirrels had been using as rooftop access. Nevermind the powerlines that run beside the tree and connect to the rooftop, and neverind the instructions on the saw to never use the saw-on-a-pole near powerlines. The fact of the matter is that the squirrels have left of their own accord, the hole is patched, and the home owner is happy. Now, onto creating holes inside the house--next project: first floor rehab.

‎'Twas the night of Squirrel Appreciation Day and all through the attic not a creature was stirring though they had a place to habit. The peanuts were placed, the cage door was sprung And all of the gutters were carefully hung. The tree limbs which normally hung o'er the roof Were no longer there, it seemed they'd gone "poof!" The homeowner leaned back and grinned like a cat, "Now try to get off of the roof and then back!" But weather in Cincy remains a big mystery And squirrels don't come out when the temperature's misery. So hunkered and fed, the beasts stayed inside The frustrated homeowner's one-day-eviction dream died.  The stalemate had lingered a bit more than wished, As Old Man Winter's wind whipped 'round and swished. The house guests stayed put as the cage door stayed lifted, No owner will see that his tenants are evicted. So sleep well, dear cute ones, for a day or two longer, And chatter it up while m...

Today the sun is shining. Today the roof is warm. Today, the squirrels front door was located. I heard some activity that sounded very different from leaves blowing across a rooftop. Very different from tree branches rattling. Very different than birds nesting. Very much, in fact, like squirrels--partying. I popped my head out the bedroom window to try and catch a peep of their main entrance to the humble abode that they believe is theirs. No grand entrances or exits while I watched. "I am quite capable of producing either an entrance or an exit," says I. I got Katie and Isaiah to lean out of the window and keep a sharp eye on what I thought was the way the squirrels would make their getaway and I moved up onto the opposite side of the roof. Upon cresting the rooftop I looked down to the far corner and saw 2 merry squirrels, chattering away about what a jolly time they were having and how good the tea is in January and what lovely crumpets Ms. Rogers makes. I proceede...

This past Saturday I was talking to a friend from church and I asked him how many evenings a week he was home. I was surprised to find that he had only 3 nights A MONTH that were cyclically preoccupied. I find that a relaxing week consists of just being home more evenings than I am away (which, if you are doing the math, is being home 4 nights a week). In college I would fill every evening with something to do, as there was always someone to fill it with--movies, games, activities, hanging out, etc. would preoccupy anytime that wasn't filled with homework or practice. Since being married, I have discovered that staying at home for dinner still counts as a date, and is still preoccupied with someone's time; and is just as fun! Since having a child, I have discovered that children need bedtimes, and bedtimes come every night. As it turns out, the rest of the world probably finds my friend's schedule to be more appetizing than mine, and I am slowly figuring out the same. N...