Some times it's not our fault.
Monday morning the truck that delivers our store supplies took a turn a little too wide and sheared off the headlight of another truck. In all fairness, there was a lot of chaos going on. A technician was on the roof changing our AC filters. I was changing the propane tank on our forklift. An electrician was testing our alarm system. There were two other deliveries going on and the trash compactor was being changed out. So yeah, a lot happening. I heard the crunch tinkle of metal and glass. The electricians truck got gouged by the trailer. I have never wanted a camera phone so badly.
Seriously, I must be the last guy in the state who doesn't own a cell phone. My wife has a Blackberry. Not a week goes by when my kids drop not-so-subtle hints they want a cell phone. The only thing I would use a cell phone for is text messaging... and pictures of acts of stupidity.
Maybe Christmas. My wife may have just gotten a job that will triple our household income. If that happens, then maybe we'll get phones for the girls.
Seriously, why would a deaf guy need a cell phone? Unlimited text messages? Hah! let's test that theory.
I really need my wife to get this job. We didn't make it through last year with her only substituting. Now our expenses are increasing what with one daughter who is of driving age and another not that far behind.
This is life. Am I complaining? Perhaps. I'm trying to make the most out of things.
I submitted my manuscript to Harper Collins publishing. If they like it, great! If they don't, I'm going to stick with my original plan and publish it on Amazon. People who've read it, like it. Total strangers have told me they enjoyed the book. I've gotten e-mails and written letters from people who've read it. Fan mail! I'm flabbergasted. The difference of going with self-publishing and publishing through Harper, is that I'd have to do my own marketing. I've got an idea on where to start. It may not be a good idea, we'll just have to see.

Something to blog about.
Having company over is one of the true joys for me. I enjoy serving big meals. The house gets a bit cleaner knowing company is coming. My wife and I love keeping in touch with all our friends. We even host movie parties. Here's the play-by-play. The grill is fired up. Fajitas, chicken legs, burgers or whatever, is cooking up. Friends come over with drinks and chips. Games are played. The kids play games or climb the tree out back. Then the movies come on.
AMC is a cable channel that has some really cool shows on. So naturally, we combine those two events. Hosting parties capped off with watching The Walking Dead.
Dish network decided to drop AMC from their lineup. I asked them to please reconsider this before I take action. Their response? You can still see your shows on Netflix.
That wasn't what I wanted to hear and certainly not from somebody I'm paying. So, I didn't get mad. I wrote them a nice letter saying their services are no longer required. Not only did they make a mistake, they lost a customer. Further, they lost a customer who can write about it.
So if you like shows like the Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, or Mad Men, all original quality shows in my opinion, then let your wallet do the talking. Ditch Dish and sign up for another provider such as Direct TV or the cable company that provides the programming you wish to see.
I'm glad I did.

My modem died last week under mysterious circumstances. All the computers and gadgets in the house insist they were no where near the modem when it died. All of them have alibis. For now, I'll treat it as suspicious.
Pepper is doing fantastic, we're going to take him to the vet in a few days. In the meantime, change the bandages...
This new modem was tricky to configure. It didn't want to recognize the one I do all my writing on. How am I supposed to post anything? We installed the software using the most powerful computer in the house, my wife's notebook. Using a key, we got it to work on the Dell. A little geek trickery later and voila! My good ol' Frankenstein box is back online. Wooo!
Didn't get to the laundry or repairing the wiring like I was going to, but that can wait until tomorrow.
On a good note: I caught up on my Girls with Slingshots web comic. This is part of my shameless begging to get Danielle Corsetto to visit our little corner of Texas. You may not have said you'd come to San Antonio on your little jaunt, Danielle, but the welcome mat is always laid out for you.

So we took our dog Pepper to the vet to have a look under his cast. Remember he broke his leg two weeks back? Turns out he has sores on his leg. It got wet under the cast. So we're putting him up where he can heal and monitored. Then we had to prepare for his arrival home on Friday. There's a kennel and stuff for him. The doctor told us we have to keep him as still as possible. Right... He's a puppy! They have him sedated at the animal hospital and I think we're going to have to keep him drugged up when he gets home. I'm really not sure about this guys. So we're doing this for him now, and he'll be better later? We'll see...

My youngest returned from spending the summer with her grandparents. Everyone had a great time and all my girls are under one roof. This means one thing: summer is basically over. My older two have been attending flag corps practice at the high school for a week now. It's worse for my sister. All of her children have moved out. My nephew is going to live in Alaska. One neice is moving to California while the other stays in town and goes to college.
Where did the summer go?
I suppose I could still sneak off and get some fishing done.
So here is one of my girls doing what they do best.

Steph with an ABC fish. Already been caught

Kayleigh modeling.

She is smarter than you and knows it.

Don't they look gorgeous? And in answer to your next question. I may not own a gun, but I am pro knife. There are a few swords around here too.

This morning before I left for my Clark Kent job, I noticed something. Danielle Corsetto wants to do a cross-country book signing for her web comic, Girls With Slingshots. In her comments section she wanted fans to give a shout-out for their city, in hopes she can come visit.
http://www.girlswithslingshots.com/
Of course I would love to have her come and be a guest at our con here in town. Right after I posted my plea to grace us with her presence, it was echoed by a few other San Antonians. In my shameless plug, I invited her to come meet our deaf gamers. Certainly I qualify for that, but what about others in the deaf community in the area?
My goal here is two fold. I would like the artist who created GWS to visit, but I also want to bring some gamers over to my house for regular sessions. And why not? Running a game in sign language would really be a challenge, am I up for it? Maybe.
So Danielle please come to San Antonio. It would mean so much to me and my friends. I plan on shamelessly plugging and begging. I will put you up at my house, I will cook for you. I will see that you are entertained while staying here in our city.

Promising yourself that you won't write anything unless you have something to say is all well and good, in theory. It also is in direct conflict with my other rule: You will write at least once a week. I would like to believe that my life isn't that boring. I should be able to find something worthy to touch base on.
The Olympics are on right now. My girls are watching beach volleyball. A couple of nights ago, the women's gymnastics team performed feats of agility that were truly mind boggling. There is something that everyone seems to forget: Training for that level of competition is painful.
As a teen, I was a member of our high school gymnastics team. Thrilling. Awesome. Confidence raising. Those are the words I'd use to describe it. I also remember the salty sting of the chalk as the blisters on my hands tear open. There were weeks when I couldn't even hold a fork to feed myself. I dutifully shaved my calloused hands, but most of the time the results were raw craters across my palms. My hands looked like I'd put them in a meat grinder, which coincidentally was our nickname for the horizontal bar. A concerned teacher noticed I was having trouble writing one day and asked what was wrong. Holding up my hands was usually all I had to do.
The memory that will stay with me forever is that of blood welling up from between my fingers as I begin the second set of giant swings in my routine. All I could think of then was 'that blood is going to make the bar slippery.'  Twenty-six years later I still remember the image of crimson lines blossoming across my knuckles. The pain fades. Skin heals. Bones knit. I still have that medal from the competition. The glory doesn't go away. Team USA all the way.