Mike, his five sisters and their families converged on Chicago last weekend for a reunion with their Mom.

Pictured here together before going out to dinner… and yes, they usually get silly when together.

Mom is 85 and very ill… but she’s got a very positive outlook, which is good.

Not that it matters, but here is a much better picture:

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We went to a gun show at the Fort Lauderdale War Memorial Auditorium yesterday. And in spite of the fact that there was another gun show running concurrently in Dade county, the place was solidly packed. As in, can’t move, can’t breathe, think I’m bolting out the side door, sardine tin packed.

But, mission at hand, we persevered and Mike bought a stealthy new carry piece. He’d gone with Kel-Tec in mind, but I and every dealer he spoke with talked him out of it, so he ended up with a subcompact little Ruger LCP, a .380 double action with a laser. You can’t believe how tiny and light the thing is; like a deadly toy.

Gun show regulars in Dade county back in the early 90′s, people watching was half the fun for us. The crowds then were mostly… ‘aficionados’. Lots of strange shirts, bandanas, rough looking types…
This crowd was ‘just folks’. I only saw one Harley t-shirt. There were people of all ages, from every walk of life. The disparity between then and now was stunning.

Interesting facts about the auditorium – Opening in 1950, it cost just $450,000. in community donated funds to build.
The lobby floor features the names of WWII battles radiating from a floor seal and there’s also a statue of a Vietnam War soldier, donated by the Gold Star Mothers in the mid 1970’s.

The Ten Commandments sit out front. It IS city property and atheist groups have tried to get it removed, but evidently someone has fought for them. I was surprised and pleased to see them.

This image is stock from around 1990, but they look the same today.

Because I can’t be the only person to know this stuff… a little something about my husband. Or, how I made a one paragraph story into a novella.

The man works hard. His job entails long hours, tapped for on-call when he’d rather be in one of those ickle bickle planes… and jetting off to work even longer hours in strange cities. All part and parcel of a career he’s utterly tired of after 40+ years. I’m well aware of each, of course. Every morning that he rises to resume said work, I think of how difficult it must be to do it again, no matter how bad he may feel or how little sleep he may have had the night before. Agonizing, right?

This last trip must have been hell; he came down with a monster cold the day before he was to fly to San Francisco. Can he cancel at the last minute? Not really; who would move/install the system? So he goes and does the job, all the while feeling like absolute crap. What can I say? He’s a real man, not a pussy…. in any way, shape or form.

Maybe this should be called ‘an ode to Mike’. But I digress.

So, anyway, he works hard. You get that. And he’s the best person I’ve ever known. My soul mate, my best friend. Brave, loyal, funny, passionate and compassionate. Intelligent and creative. And dead sexy. The total package.

Now, I don’t have a ‘real’ job; my place in this set-up is to facilitate his life. I’m back-up, moral support, accountant, housekeeper, dog and duck wrangler. I keep the minor annoyances of life at bay so he can do what he does, which is mainly be brilliant and make money… and sometimes sneak away and fly planes. All that may seem very 18th century to some of you, but it’s what works for us. If I had the capacity to make money, he’d be more than happy to assume my wrangling duties.

While discharging my duties as support staff last Saturday, I noticed that the man remained ill. More than that, he was just plain tired. Sick and tired and starting to feel more than a bit wrung out.
I’d already made up my mind to get him an iPad 2 for Christmas, but I made the executive decision that he needed one now, right now. So he, in a delirious fervor, from the cold or the prospect of a new toy I cannot say, shoved off to Best Buy and purchased one.

Here’s the interesting part. Upon returning with the thing he didn’t so much play with it right away as jump straight on the internet to learn how to change it. Jailbreak or something. I don’t know why that surprised me, as we have a name for what he does to virtually everything he owns: Bobikize. He’s Bobikized so very many things – and it’s seemingly the first thought upon purchasing a new gadget. ‘How can I modify it?’ If it didn’t void the warranty I feel sure that he’d have taken it apart and put it back together by now. Never satisfied with how stuff works; there must be a way to make it better.

All tinkerers are probably the same; never completely convinced that what they hold in their hands is so perfect it can’t be made shinier with just a little tweaking… and mine is no different. I do love that man.

Good grief, not the ducks!

I didn’t remember the anniversary of Elvis’ death yesterday but did recall Mike’s birthday. I’m just a day late on the blog.

Happy Birthday Mike! I love you!

Of course I wasn’t alive when Mike was born but vividly remember the moment I heard Elvis had perished in a tragic bathroom accident. Hey, pills are tragic.

Sitting in my tedious little powder blue Dodge Neon, I’d just left work at the dental office after a grueling day of smelling other people’s bad breath. I really don’t know how dentists do it, bless their hearts.
Anyway, the news of El’s death spurted out of those hideous ten cent speakers and slapped me across the face and blouse. As bad news does. The worse the news, the more likely it is to stain your clothes. I had to burn the uniform.

The nation mourned and I had nightmares of dying like Elvis, slumped by the toilet, jim jams around my ankles.

So, I baked Mike -or whatever his name is- a carrot cake for his big day, but guess who’s eating most of it? Because the thing sits in close proximity to my person, I am drawn to it like a doomed moth to its vile seducer the flame.
This flame is quite tasty, with cream cheese frosting.

Which reminds me, the treadmill awaits.

Wonder if Mike minds sharing a post with the king? Nah. Maybe next year I’ll work in John Wayne too, somehow. Well, you never know.

Pulled the end of the video out to post here because it’s huge; there’s no way more than a bit could be posted at one time. So, here’s the final bit of flight – with the money shot, Tyler’s big smile and thumbs up after he executes a perfect landing.

Our 12 year old grandson Tyler had his first flying lesson today, called a ‘Discovery flight’. So far Tyler’s been a natural at everything he’s tried; sports, music, academics… So we wondered if he’d take to flying as easily. Once again, he’s a natural!

He’s got his own log book now with an hour’s flight time logged, along with take off and landing. He took off, flew and landed the plane with very little help from the instructor, who was suitably impressed, by the way.
He has a sim at home, but said that actual flying was much easier than the sim.

The flight school. Actually, I found out later that this is the rear door. Oops.

Mike, Tonie, Tyler, Amber and Kaytlin.

Tyler looked a bit pensive. We learned from his mom that he was pretty nervous. Can’t say I blame him!

The girls just wanted to get out of the sun.

Tonie, Amber, Kaytlin and I drove on our way while Tyler had ground school, pre-flight and flew. Mike, who is busting with pride, by the way, sat in the rear seat and let the instructor do his thing. Both were amazed with Tyler’s natural ability.

They flew down the coastline, down as far as Biscayne Bay, over the Seaquariam and back.

Mike also recorded the entire thing, so I’ll try to post at least a bit of it later. Very cool, eh?

UPDATE: The images Mike took with his phone…

Mike, who is prone to astonishing acts of gifting, surprised me with a new camera last week. This one. Plus two lenses!

A combination birthday/anniversary/just because I wanted you to have it thing. I love him for thinking of me, really. Unfortunately having a better camera has just enforced how really terrible I am at taking pictures.

First shot, on Auto of course. Wasn’t too bad, just not great.

Everything else? Sucks stagnant pond water. The spider was the only other shot worth looking at, and it wasn’t very good.

My hopes, raised by all the reviews around the net that it performs magnificently on Auto, were dashed, and fast. No it damned well doesn’t. Not this one, anyway.

I obviously have much to learn. And apologies all round to my first two digital cameras, which are sitting alongside the new one on the desk. It’s not you, it’s me.
A plethora of cameras and no one to use them properly. Well, other than macros.

Grrr… I’m just frustrated right now. And I feel like a right idiot.

ANYway, got a new camera and I have a wonderful husband. Not an ungrateful bint, I know how very lucky I am. If he never brought another gift home, I’d still consider myself the luckiest woman alive just to have him.

Love you, honey… and thanks!

A couple of days after my ‘chocolate’ post, Mike came home with these…

Either he loves me or he just put all our savings in Hershey stock…