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Showing posts with label TB22. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TB22. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 10, 2010 5 comments

Spring #3 Comes In Like a… TS02?

Daughter Dearest and I returned from vacation to find Spring #3 ramping up. It quickly got to be nearly as warm as it was in Florida last week — but both of us had our priorities in order: 1) Mom and Solar-bro; 2) 550 miles from the chicken houses; 3) The weather. Monday was productive; I gathered up a bunch of firewood that had been at least partially cut and The Boy did most of the splitting while I stacked. Mrs. Fetched deemed the resulting stack “impressive.” I’m going to do a lot of cutting this spring, then we’ll have (mostly) dry firewood come next fall.

But Spring #3 can be the wild one of the bunch, even if it’s going to be the “real” spring this year (we might get a Winter #4, but it would have to be mild and short). DoubleRed and I came home this evening to a TS02 in progress, with Mrs. Fetched sort of refereeing and Mason watching with frank interest. Snippet finally huffed off and went upstairs, leaving The Boy (who had been simmering in the lounge chair) to fill me in on the details. Apparently, this has been something that’s been going on for a while — maybe since the big TS02 over Valentine’s Day (VD) weekend. Mason was a bit more concerned than he let on; he let out a loud squawk of relief right in my ear a few minutes later.

I should have expected something like this: Snippet dropped SN05, SN08, and SN09 errors on me just this morning; The Boy has been throwing TB22 and TB25 errors a lot as well. Turned out that the day after DD and I vacated, Mrs. Fetched lowered the boom on them both — and they both straightened up and took care of business (and Mason) much better than before. It carried forward, as The Boy did pretty good with the firewood.

Speaking of Mason, I noticed a couple changes when we returned — his hair is a little thicker and his face a bit chubbier. He also caught a cold, poor guy. I had him yesterday afternoon and he started getting fussy… making “I’m hungry” complaints. I made some formula, used about half of it in a bowl of cereal for him, and started feeding. He took four or five bites and started crying like he’d been slapped — I checked to make sure he hadn’t gotten pinched in the high chair — then got him out. As usual, by the time I got to the bedroom he’d stopped crying… but he started moaning a little, which is his “I’m tired” noise. Shortly after, the “hungry” noises began and DoubleRed offered him another spoon of cereal. He clamped his mouth shut, so I asked her to make another four oz. of formula and add it to what I’d made. This made a full 8 oz. bottle; I offered that to Mason and he started chowing… and chowing… and chowing. He finally dozed off when there was a couple thimbles of formula left — whew! — then slept for two hours. Smart kid, he knew he needed his fluids.

Yesterday, I did something I probably don’t do enough of — exercised grandparent’s prerogative. I had Mason in the lounge chair, standing in my lap, when he bent over and started grunting. The radiation alarms went off a few minutes later, and I gave him (and his atomic diaper) to Snippet to decontaminate.

The Boy’s band — 22s at 7 — will be playing at the Masquerade (in Atlanta) this weekend. He really wants me to come, but with money as tight as it is I told him he might have to buy my ticket. :-P They spelled the band’s name wrong on the ticket, which I suppose is a rite of passage for new acts, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Well, it’s back to the office tomorrow. I checked my email yesterday evening and the place hadn’t caved in yet, so tomorrow and Friday will be spent on some administrivia and maybe even getting some work done. Will Snippet leave The Boy? Will The Boy finally land that music career he’s wanted for over half his life? Will Mrs. Fetched ever get some rest? Stay tuned…

Sunday, February 14, 2010 4 comments

Mason and a Slew of TB/SN/TS Errors

Amazing sometimes, how the baby can be what keeps you sane… (video by Daughter Dearest)



We can pretty much count on The Boy giving us a TB03 error every weekend these days… he claims to have “band practice” on Saturday night but we often don’t see him until later on Sunday or even Monday. Most of the time, we don’t know for sure, but we can assume a TB22 during those “outings.” Snippet kind of gave away the plan yesterday: she said something about going to a birthday party. Mrs. Fetched nixed it, but they most likely went anyway… seems like they have a “birthday” party to attend just about every weekend.

Last night, however, a TS02 led to an error that has happened before but I had neglected to categorize: a TB28 (calls us at 3 a.m. having an emotional, probably alcohol-fueled, meltdown). He texted and called my phone twice before I woke up enough to answer it. “Come and get me,” he wailed, “I don’t want to have anything to do with these drug addicts.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

He managed, on the second attempt (a personal best), to give me coherent directions that would at least get me somewhere.

“What about Snippet?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” There was more, but suffice it to say a TS02 had happened.

As I was getting ready, he called Mrs. Fetched’s phone and he poured out all his issues to her while I got dressed and loaded my pockets. About the time I was ready to leave, Mrs. Fetched held her hand out at me and mouthed, “Wait.” The Boy has inherited his mom’s penchant for jerking people (especially me) around, first “needing” me to go somewhere, then canceling about the time I’m ready. The upshot was, he would stay because he didn’t want the drug addicts getting vindictive somehow, and would call us in the morning when he was ready to get moving. And of course it’s 6 p.m. and we haven’t heard from him yet.

The good part about this was, I finally got smart: instead of getting gas Friday, I simply drove home, figuring if he wanted to take my car anywhere he’d have to put gas in it. He and Snippet managed to get Cousin Splat to drive them to not-band practice. We have a little gas in the detached garage, so I’ll just dump it in the car when I need to go somewhere then tank up later. Since tomorrow’s a holiday, it’ll wait for Tuesday.

The error codes list…

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