Month: November 2002

Screen Savers. While diddling around with the settings on the computer, I happened upon a desktop theme for jungle that I liked. Heh. Ray watched the screen saver for half an hour.

We also set up the small tree yesterday. A day for all good bebes to stand, transfixed, in wonder.


There are approximately 4 times as many conversions to Mormonism as there are new births, although less than half of those conversions remain with their new religion for over a year.

Perspectives on American Religion and Culture, Peter W. Williams, 1999.

NaNoWriMo. Please, if you have not done so already, check out Doyce’s story. He wrote a 50,000-word novel in November. Waaaaan month. Yeah, he finished it. Woo Hoo!

I’ve only read three days’ worth, but I can tell you already that if you’re up for a good beginning, then begin. By the end of the first day’s worth of entries, I was hooked.

Um, due to writerly considerations, you’ll have to email him a request to see the story via the link above, the writerly concerns being that publishers get antsy about first drafts published on your own personal website, i.e., they don’t want to buy the final drafts thereof.

Nevertheless, email him quick.

Happy Thanksgiving!

We went to Matt & Stacey’s house. I had a good time; Lee had a good time; I think Joe had a good time; Ray had a “The hills are aliiiiiiiiive with the Sound of Muuuuusiiiiic” time. M&S’s beagle, Sable, proved to be the life of the party from a one-year-old’s perspective. We played but did not finish a very close game of boys-vs-girls trivial pursuit, with Matt dangling clues from the sidelines, having come back from the base in the middle of the game.

The big news is that Matt & Stace are not moving to Tupelo, but if you want more details you’ll have to ask Matt.

Cheap Thrills.

Anybody that knows the David Allen Coe song…well, they just don’t know unless they know.

My brother-in-law Mike sent us a CD of David Allen Coe songs that you’ll never hear on the radio. Never. And now I know more about David Allen Coe than I need to know. You know, I didn’t think of myself as easily offended until I heard that CD. Guess what?

I knew I’d have problems when I saw the song title Nigger F@#$%^&, but I didn’t really know I’d have problems until I heard the song. Or the one about…screw it. Nevermind.

If you want the sticky details, talk to Mike.

P.S. I talked to someone at work who’d never heard of “You never call me by my name.” Never even heard of it. Weird. Bet she hasn’t heard of the “Going to hire a wino” song either. Mac Davis, I think.

Back Online.

Well, we’ve been through our periodic screwed-up-the-internet party again, but we’re back now. I can’t say it was too terrible a thing, since now a) I get to read everything all at once, b) I did some good writing (let me remind myself that I don’t know how to write novels, it’s all right to trash everything and start over, newly inspired. ‘Kay.), and c) a break in the addiction is always a good thing.


Ray’s still cute. She had a good birthday. I bought an angelfood cake, going against all those years of state-fair angelfood cakes I made for 4-H because I don’t have a stationary mixer and, dang it, the thought of making an angelfood cake by hand gave me the willies. I decorated it by hand, though, as Clifford the Dog. I am so Cool. We let Ray, according to Knippling family tradition, have a clear shot at the cake before serving it to the rest of the family. She drew little pictures in the frosting for about three seconds but was not otherwise tempted to eat the stuff. One of her presents was a box of washable crayons. Ha. Wash nothing. Read: edible…and poopable. Man, that was gross.

The big news, though, is that in the last two weeks or so she’s decided to start talking. She knows “Daddy,” “Kitty,” Mamma,” “Joe” (DOE!), and “Diaper” (Di-duh), and she learned them roughly in that order.

Four teeth on top, two teeth on bottom. She can run. She thinks naked is better than clothes, showers and baths both have their points, bacon is gooooooood, dogs bark, lions and bears roar, monkeys hoot.

More later

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