timely, valuable and practical post about zombies

This was retrieved from one of my favorite daily doses from www.steepandcheap.com. This information is valuable, trustworthy, and carries my full endorsement. Hold it...what's that shuffling behind the bushes?!

"I am not well prepared for a Zombie epidemic. I don't have a shotgun, machete, or even a baseball bat. I could scrounge up some kitchen knives, but I may as well just hand myself over to the brain-eating monsters. A kitchen knife or even a small machete is useless--you need weapons that keep them at more than arm's length. Ideally you would be armed with long-, mid-, and close-range weapons when an epidemic breaks loose. For long range you want something with serious stopping power: think pump-action shotgun loaded with deer slugs. If your grandpa has an antique 4-gauge shotgun, you might consider keeping that around. Mid-range weapons are tough, so you need to use your imagination. Look for fire extinguishers you could spray into an advancing crowd of zombies, or on the other end of the spectrum, a liquor store you could pilfer to build Molotov cocktails before you set the building on fire. A baseball or cricket bat would work well up close, and a Plexiglas shield would be useful for pushing zombies back while yelling, "Get behind me!" to your friends..."

We'll be wintering on Carnegie Drive!

Update on our housing situation: Chuck has given us a big break! He promised that he won't sell the house until spring. That is a welcome bit of grace, as who wants to move with a 3 week old into a house they don't really want in the first place. We're excited we will get to winter on Carnegie Drive with all our friends. Snowball wars outside at 2:00, everyone!

making a difference

Many people I know (and respect) ascribe to the following philosophy regarding procreation of offspring: there's no way I'm going to be cruel enough to birth a child and condemn them to live in a horrible world like ours. Fair enough. Seems even altruistic, in a way. But I see things differently. I welcome the prospect of my 2 daughters moving in and among this frail and broken world and affecting change for the better. This perspective may beg of some the comment "Oh, my! You are creating martyrs and unwilling crusaders, not children!" I disagree wholeheartedly. Though (I believe) we are set here to make a difference, we also consequently get to enjoy the glorious fruits of the difference we make. In my eyes, the human race is a lot like an old house: we all, either passively or actively, either assist the process of decay, or we actively and courageously determine to re-build what is broken...from the ground up, if necessary. Personally, I hope my daughters commit boldly to the latter path; heroes are hard to find these days. But, to address the joyous balance, I hope most of their days are such that the only energy they expend is on repeated laughter, with the warm spring sun hitting their faces while hiking the Royal Arch trail or skiing the black runs of Copper Mountain, with their mom and dad somewhere behind, trying their best to keep up...in this best of all possible worlds.

the explicit and implicit messages found in language

Exhibit A-the dreadful telephone call of 10-1-07 from our landlord
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Ring, ring---

Clint: Hello?

Chuck: Hi, Clint. This is Chuck, your landlord.

Clint: Oh, hi! I haven’t heard from you in a while. How was your trip out east?

Chuck: Well, Clint, I’m going to be selling the house I’m renting you. I just wanted to let you know (that you and your family are soon going to be out on the street or paying some exorbitant amount for a cramped, older, falling-part place in a bad neighborhood with a new baby and a two year-old).

Clint: (Whooah! Did he say..?) You…what?

(silence on both ends of the line)

Chuck: I wanted to thank you for being such a wonderful tenant. If everyone was like you, I’d probably still keep the houses I’m renting.

Clint: Oh well, that’s nice of you to say (but how does that help me today, buddy?! You wanna see NOT nice?! I can show you NOT nice, too.) I really appreciate you, as well. You’ve always been prompt to return our calls and you fix anything that’s broken within a few days. (How about fixing THIS and just giving us your freakin' house, Chuck? Huh!? How ‘bout THAT?)

Chuck: Don't worry--I’ll give you 30 days notice once I talk to my realtor.

Clint: 30 days? (How generous is THAT?!) Chuck, that’s not much time (to pack up our entire existence and drive away from the million things we love about this house, this neighborhood and this area). We’re going to need at least 3 months to be able to find a place and move out. What can you do for us? (Help a brutha out, here!!!)

Chuck: I’ll talk to the realtor, Clint. I’ll do what I can. I just wanted to let you know. (Now leave me alone. I’ve done my good deed today. “Into every life…”).

Clint: OK. Well, thanks for being straightforward with us about it. I’m sure it’s in your best interest (diametrically opposed to OURS, of course!) I wonder--would you be open to a rent-to-own scenario? I think we could both win here.

Chuck: No, no. I don’t think so, I just need to get these houses of mine out from underneath me. That’s all. Have a good day. (Of my numerous headaches, you are my favorite).

---Click---

Into every life, a little rain…At least I’ve got a job. No house, apparently, but a job.