Riding the Storm Out
What was left of Katrina came through the Nashville area this morning. The worst part of it seems to have gone through the western end of the metro area, and we're on the east end so it wasn't too bad out our way. We all ended up sleeping in the basement last night just to be careful, although I stumbled upstairs about 5:30 and went back to sleep in the cool comfort of our bedroom. The A/C doesn't work very well in the basement and we're too cash strapped to get it serviced right now, so it wasn't very comfortable down there for this F.H.W.B.
Sorry for the lack of updates. Since I'm back in Nashville full time life gets busy and since none of my former blog buddies want to play with me it's just not as interesting. Hopefully their tears and other drippy things will dry up soon. It's hard being the only heartless bastard in my corner of the blog neighborhood. Maybe one day I'll find someone that can take the heat as well as dish it out. Apparently Mr. Croft is looking for some "Hatch Luvin" (tm), at least judging from his last comment anyway.
I'm taking a break from poker right now, but will probably start playing some more freerolls soon. I'm thinking of becoming the first professional freeroller. I'm sure the endorsements would start rolling in fast.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Boring Blogs
Someone broke my heart by passing along the news that someone else found my blog to be boring. I'm doing my best here people. I'm a 37 year old fat white man. I have a wife, a kid, another kid on the way, and a mortgage. There's not a lot of stuff going on that others would find exciting. It's a great life for me though.
I suppose I could tell stories about ripping off people less fortunate than me, or scour the web for pictures of women my 37 year old weiner would never hope to even be in the same room with, but I have higher standards here at the Wayward Hatch. Heck, I could even buy a PONTOON boat and act like it was the greatest thing ever, but I'm not so full of testosterone to inflict that kind of torture on my friends and family.
So I'll keep posting things that matter to me. I mean, it's my blog, so I have that right. In the end, this is a journal for me to share my experiences and opinions with anyone that might happen to care. Even if no one else read it, I'd keep writing it. It helps me to keep my focus and avoid dumb mistakes like buying a PONTOON boat.
Someone broke my heart by passing along the news that someone else found my blog to be boring. I'm doing my best here people. I'm a 37 year old fat white man. I have a wife, a kid, another kid on the way, and a mortgage. There's not a lot of stuff going on that others would find exciting. It's a great life for me though.
I suppose I could tell stories about ripping off people less fortunate than me, or scour the web for pictures of women my 37 year old weiner would never hope to even be in the same room with, but I have higher standards here at the Wayward Hatch. Heck, I could even buy a PONTOON boat and act like it was the greatest thing ever, but I'm not so full of testosterone to inflict that kind of torture on my friends and family.
So I'll keep posting things that matter to me. I mean, it's my blog, so I have that right. In the end, this is a journal for me to share my experiences and opinions with anyone that might happen to care. Even if no one else read it, I'd keep writing it. It helps me to keep my focus and avoid dumb mistakes like buying a PONTOON boat.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Life With a Pregnant Wife
Marissa had a weird night last night. She probably drank too much caffeine during the day and started acting a little strange around midnight. About 1am she woke me up talking. I couldn't understand her at first, but after she repeated it several times I finally heard her say "Did we go out to Ferlie's farm?"
Then about 3am I wake up and Marissa is standing at the foot of the bed holding one of my feet. She puts it back down on the bed and proceeds to wrap it up in the comforter. She claims I was shaking my foot during my sleep and keeping her awake.
We're halfway folks. Hopefully Hatch will survive it.
Marissa had a weird night last night. She probably drank too much caffeine during the day and started acting a little strange around midnight. About 1am she woke me up talking. I couldn't understand her at first, but after she repeated it several times I finally heard her say "Did we go out to Ferlie's farm?"
Then about 3am I wake up and Marissa is standing at the foot of the bed holding one of my feet. She puts it back down on the bed and proceeds to wrap it up in the comforter. She claims I was shaking my foot during my sleep and keeping her awake.
We're halfway folks. Hopefully Hatch will survive it.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Rah rah rah
So last night was the first Junior High football game for Mt. Juliet Christian Academy, where Victoria just started 7th grade. She's on the cheerleading team, so I showed up at 6:30 yesterday evening to show my support.
It was hot. Hot and sticky, with absolutely no breeze. It wasn't as hot as sticky as say New Orleans or Mobile is this time of year, but at my size it might as well have been Eufaula, Alabama. Sweat just poured off from just sitting in the stands. Then after about half an hour, a huge swarm of gnats showed up. I could wipe the back of my neck with my hand every 30 seconds and have about 10 gnats on my palm. Someone finally passed out a can of Off and people descended on it like it was the last drop of water in the Sahara.
To top it off, the home team lost to Red Boiling Springs, but not as badly as they did last year. Yes, there's a town in Tennessee named Red Boiling Springs. It's waaaayyy up in the middle of nowhere northeast of Nashville, up in tobacco country. It reminds me a lot of Calcis or Sterrett back in Alabama, although the school there is the standard red brick construction just like SCHS where Heff and I attended.
The opposing team had one player in the #70 jersey that I think may have been bigger than me. For a minute I was afraid Uncle Bull had finally made the drive down I65 to finish our "power struggle" but then I drank some more Gatoraid and came to my senses. That was one big corn-fed boy, I'm telling you. He was knocking around our little sixth graders and putting them flat on their Wilfreds.
I'm just glad we didn't have to drive there this year. I paid $2.53 a gallon for gasoline last night, which is the most ever for me personally. I'm really glad I have the Honda at this point. That 38 mpg is really sweet and I only have to fill up every other week. Marissa's SUV needs to be traded, but I'm pretty sure we're still upside-down on the loan.
So last night was the first Junior High football game for Mt. Juliet Christian Academy, where Victoria just started 7th grade. She's on the cheerleading team, so I showed up at 6:30 yesterday evening to show my support.
It was hot. Hot and sticky, with absolutely no breeze. It wasn't as hot as sticky as say New Orleans or Mobile is this time of year, but at my size it might as well have been Eufaula, Alabama. Sweat just poured off from just sitting in the stands. Then after about half an hour, a huge swarm of gnats showed up. I could wipe the back of my neck with my hand every 30 seconds and have about 10 gnats on my palm. Someone finally passed out a can of Off and people descended on it like it was the last drop of water in the Sahara.
To top it off, the home team lost to Red Boiling Springs, but not as badly as they did last year. Yes, there's a town in Tennessee named Red Boiling Springs. It's waaaayyy up in the middle of nowhere northeast of Nashville, up in tobacco country. It reminds me a lot of Calcis or Sterrett back in Alabama, although the school there is the standard red brick construction just like SCHS where Heff and I attended.
The opposing team had one player in the #70 jersey that I think may have been bigger than me. For a minute I was afraid Uncle Bull had finally made the drive down I65 to finish our "power struggle" but then I drank some more Gatoraid and came to my senses. That was one big corn-fed boy, I'm telling you. He was knocking around our little sixth graders and putting them flat on their Wilfreds.
I'm just glad we didn't have to drive there this year. I paid $2.53 a gallon for gasoline last night, which is the most ever for me personally. I'm really glad I have the Honda at this point. That 38 mpg is really sweet and I only have to fill up every other week. Marissa's SUV needs to be traded, but I'm pretty sure we're still upside-down on the loan.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Vassar Clements
There was sad news out of Nashville yesterday as legendary bluegrass violinist Vassar Clements passed away at the age of 77. About 4 years ago I went with my friend Jason to the Station Inn downtown where Mr. Clements was playing fiddle with what was basically a local pickup band that had a German banjo player. They had never practiced together, but Clements would just start playing whatever song they picked seemingly at random. You could tell he was a true master of his chosen instrument.
Speaking of which, the violin he's played in recent years has an interesting history. Its true origins may never be known, but it is at least 300 years old and has been handed down personally from musician to musician. Hopefully this will continue and it won't wind up in a museum somewhere. Whatever musician gets it next will have some big shoes to fill.
There was sad news out of Nashville yesterday as legendary bluegrass violinist Vassar Clements passed away at the age of 77. About 4 years ago I went with my friend Jason to the Station Inn downtown where Mr. Clements was playing fiddle with what was basically a local pickup band that had a German banjo player. They had never practiced together, but Clements would just start playing whatever song they picked seemingly at random. You could tell he was a true master of his chosen instrument.
Speaking of which, the violin he's played in recent years has an interesting history. Its true origins may never be known, but it is at least 300 years old and has been handed down personally from musician to musician. Hopefully this will continue and it won't wind up in a museum somewhere. Whatever musician gets it next will have some big shoes to fill.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Baby Update
So Marissa is in her 20th week of pregnancy, putting us about halfway through the process now. You can check out her baby belly on her blog. She's having a good bit of pain in her back and hip, so I try to massage her as often as I can. I keep trying to bring home treats to make her happy, but her tastes change so often it's hard to keep up.
In about two weeks Marissa will undergo her first ultrasound, so we should know whether it's a little Hatch or Hatchette that's looming on the horizon. We got the changing table put into the baby room this past weekend so now we just need to paint and get the crib put in there to get the room completely set up.
So Marissa is in her 20th week of pregnancy, putting us about halfway through the process now. You can check out her baby belly on her blog. She's having a good bit of pain in her back and hip, so I try to massage her as often as I can. I keep trying to bring home treats to make her happy, but her tastes change so often it's hard to keep up.
In about two weeks Marissa will undergo her first ultrasound, so we should know whether it's a little Hatch or Hatchette that's looming on the horizon. We got the changing table put into the baby room this past weekend so now we just need to paint and get the crib put in there to get the room completely set up.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Memories of South Georgia
Looks like Wilfred finally got all those pictures organized and set them to music in a beautiful and poignant montage. (Montage is a collection of pictures for those of you from Midlothian.)
I think some of them are pictures Heff sent from his last family reunion as well. You sure got a purdy mouth Uncle Bull.
Speaking of something purdy, here's Uncle Paul after he fell into that vat of hair growth formula that Granny cooked up last week. Over 400 posts on the Hatch Blog now, and this is the first nipple shot ever.
Looks like Wilfred finally got all those pictures organized and set them to music in a beautiful and poignant montage. (Montage is a collection of pictures for those of you from Midlothian.)
I think some of them are pictures Heff sent from his last family reunion as well. You sure got a purdy mouth Uncle Bull.
Speaking of something purdy, here's Uncle Paul after he fell into that vat of hair growth formula that Granny cooked up last week. Over 400 posts on the Hatch Blog now, and this is the first nipple shot ever.
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