Thursday, September 23, 2010
Regrets
From my bizarre and somewhat deprived childhood I have but one regret: lack of documentation! We need to get more of our stories down, especially seeing as how the last Rugglet will start to contribute soon. I propose a flurry of activity in celebration of Adam's triumphant return, so get on it Rugglets. Rugglet spouses, get on your Rugglet's case about blogging. Cousins, feel free to chime in more often. Need inspiration? Start reading posts from the beginning, we mentioned dozens of topics that your memory could fill pages with. Cats, neighbors, bikes, lawn mowers, porches, piles of bricks, parafoils and DOS computer games are all waiting for their stories to be told!
Friday, September 17, 2010
"It sounds like something...evil..."
This is another story not about growing up in the ghetto, but the fact that we never grew out of it.
The summer after I graduated high school I spent in Texas working for Andy, and in general causing problems. It was one of the best summers of my life.
One day Natalie and Alison were over and we were watching Charlotte, long gone to bed, chatting. That's when we heard the chirping. I'd been hearing it all week, coming from the walls.
"It sounds like something...evil..." Natalie said, and for some reason that line became hilarious. We tried to track down the source of the chirping, but it seemed to be coming from the walls, and moving. A bird perhaps? Muhahaha.
The next day on the can I hear the chirping crazy loud in the wall right next to me, not near the living room where we heard it before and nowhere near the outside. Andy and I decided to take matters into our own hands and cut a hole in the drywall to remove....wait for it...a baby raccoon!
Never before have I been privileged to care for a cuter secret pet. I bottle fed the little guy myself up in my room hoping Jen wouldn't discover our machinations. My favorite part of the whole affair was actually when Jen did find out. 8 months pregnant at the time with Claire, Jen had little patience for us using her baby's bottle to clandestinely keep a varmit in the house: Andy and I got quite the talking to. The thing needed to go, and quicklike. We just set him outside and in less than a minute the momma raccoon was there and scooped him away like a cat. It was awesome.
P.S. To get a more hilarious version of this story, ask Jen about when we ripped a hole in her bathroom to catch a baby raccoon.
The summer after I graduated high school I spent in Texas working for Andy, and in general causing problems. It was one of the best summers of my life.
One day Natalie and Alison were over and we were watching Charlotte, long gone to bed, chatting. That's when we heard the chirping. I'd been hearing it all week, coming from the walls.
"It sounds like something...evil..." Natalie said, and for some reason that line became hilarious. We tried to track down the source of the chirping, but it seemed to be coming from the walls, and moving. A bird perhaps? Muhahaha.
The next day on the can I hear the chirping crazy loud in the wall right next to me, not near the living room where we heard it before and nowhere near the outside. Andy and I decided to take matters into our own hands and cut a hole in the drywall to remove....wait for it...a baby raccoon!
Never before have I been privileged to care for a cuter secret pet. I bottle fed the little guy myself up in my room hoping Jen wouldn't discover our machinations. My favorite part of the whole affair was actually when Jen did find out. 8 months pregnant at the time with Claire, Jen had little patience for us using her baby's bottle to clandestinely keep a varmit in the house: Andy and I got quite the talking to. The thing needed to go, and quicklike. We just set him outside and in less than a minute the momma raccoon was there and scooped him away like a cat. It was awesome.
P.S. To get a more hilarious version of this story, ask Jen about when we ripped a hole in her bathroom to catch a baby raccoon.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
TV
One appliance in our household had the curious and dichotomous title of least functioning (saying something in our trailer) and most beloved: the TV.
We got three channels. Kinda. We just had snapped off rabbit ears because cable didn't come our to where we were from (not that the rents would have shelled out the cash to waste even more of our time). Getting the receiver to work involved shoving pillows back by the antennae (whether to hold them in place or as a dielectric, I don't know) and my personal favorite, having someone stand in the middle of the room. I don't know why this helped. But it did. Sometimes we'd stack pillows on a chair to try to simulate a person, which was less effective. Mom's sewing machine also sent the poor contraption into fits. I have studied physics and engineering for almost four years now. I have no idea how any of this works.
Really, the TV was meant for one thing, and one thing only (besides watching Masters of the Universe): Saturday morning cartoons. Nothing has ever gotten me out of bed so early quite as well as SMCs; I even got up hours before in anticipation sometimes. The first kid up would always turn on the TV, but not before placing our massive floor pillow (an entry in itself) over the speaker while we had to pound on the metal buttons to quite the static before we got it to the right channel so mom and dad wouldn't wake up and tell us to go to back to bed. X-men, Spiderman, Batman, Animaniacs: we all had our different favorites, and there were some we all loved (The Tick!!!!).
Other fun times with the TV were Saturday nights when we all rushed through showers to miss as little of Star Trek or Walker: Texas Ranger as possible.
We also just watched a lot of mindless TV, Fresh Prince and Home Improvement. We absorbed the stuff like sponges. I think in response to that, I now rarely watch TV.
Just when the poor contraption seemed to be at its nadir, Tracy and I discovered the wonders of running a cow magnet over the screen. The bizarrely warping colors were fascinating, much more so than reruns of Ghostwriter. However, each time we moved the magnet close, a little more of the color change became permanent, and pretty soon we had an all green TV. It eventually returned mostly to normal, except for a big green patch in the corner. Ahh, good times.
Any other thoughts on that wonderful hunk of scrap?
We got three channels. Kinda. We just had snapped off rabbit ears because cable didn't come our to where we were from (not that the rents would have shelled out the cash to waste even more of our time). Getting the receiver to work involved shoving pillows back by the antennae (whether to hold them in place or as a dielectric, I don't know) and my personal favorite, having someone stand in the middle of the room. I don't know why this helped. But it did. Sometimes we'd stack pillows on a chair to try to simulate a person, which was less effective. Mom's sewing machine also sent the poor contraption into fits. I have studied physics and engineering for almost four years now. I have no idea how any of this works.
Really, the TV was meant for one thing, and one thing only (besides watching Masters of the Universe): Saturday morning cartoons. Nothing has ever gotten me out of bed so early quite as well as SMCs; I even got up hours before in anticipation sometimes. The first kid up would always turn on the TV, but not before placing our massive floor pillow (an entry in itself) over the speaker while we had to pound on the metal buttons to quite the static before we got it to the right channel so mom and dad wouldn't wake up and tell us to go to back to bed. X-men, Spiderman, Batman, Animaniacs: we all had our different favorites, and there were some we all loved (The Tick!!!!).
Other fun times with the TV were Saturday nights when we all rushed through showers to miss as little of Star Trek or Walker: Texas Ranger as possible.
We also just watched a lot of mindless TV, Fresh Prince and Home Improvement. We absorbed the stuff like sponges. I think in response to that, I now rarely watch TV.
Just when the poor contraption seemed to be at its nadir, Tracy and I discovered the wonders of running a cow magnet over the screen. The bizarrely warping colors were fascinating, much more so than reruns of Ghostwriter. However, each time we moved the magnet close, a little more of the color change became permanent, and pretty soon we had an all green TV. It eventually returned mostly to normal, except for a big green patch in the corner. Ahh, good times.
Any other thoughts on that wonderful hunk of scrap?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)