Holy shit, I feel like I haven't blogged forever. Maybe I've been eating too much cheese or something.

Actually, we've been so busy around the house the last two weeks that I just haven't had time, and when I've had time, I didn't really feel like it. Then, things started happening and motivation hit and now all I want to do is blog, blog, blog and blog again. I hope too much blogging doesn't make one go blind.

Anyway, here's what's been going on in sunny (and rainy) Suwanee, Georgia:

Memorial Day weekend was a big one, being that the Sunday is the biggest race weekend of the year. A couple of friends came over early for the European Grand Prix (let's call them Fred and Ethel). One is from here and one is from out of town. I've known one for about 12 years and the other I'd never met, except for on the internets.

We scheduled the day around eating and drinking, and plenty of both were planned. I got up at 6am to clean the eggs out, load 'em up with lump and started by cooking a nice 6 pound brisket flat on the large.

We then watched yet another very exciting F1 race where Kimi went from making up two points in the title chase to giving up ten when his right front shredded with just over a lap to go and he went flying into the kitty litter.

Fernando Alonso ended up winning his 4th race of the year and, if the season ends as tightly as I think it will, McLaren / Mercedes may come to really regret not laying back a bit and settling for a podium instead of going nuts out for the win with a clearly damaged right front.

Around noon or so, the brisket came off and the pork tenderloins were placed on the small to have them ready for pork tenderloin sandwhiches for the start of the Indy 500. I also put six slabs of ribs on the large to have ready for the start of the Coke 600.

This is where the beer started causing problems.

I got chatty and lost track of the tenderloins out of the gate, and semi-burned one side. They were fine (about a 7 out of 10), but I was looking for a home run since Ethel had never had Egg food or even seen a Big Green Egg.

The brisket turned out fine, great even, and I enjoyed it as much or more than the last one, which was also great. It seems that I can manage the tougher cooks, but can't pay enough attention to get the easy ones right sometimes.

The tenderloins came off at a perfect 150, but some folks were turned off by the slightly pink and juicy center. It seems that it's almost impossible to re-train one's brain to accept that pork doesn't have to be 170 degrees to be done, and that if you pull it at 150, it'll finish at 160 and that's more than done. The FDA says anything over 137 is fine, and this isn't the 1800's. Nobody's getting trichinosis anymore people. Move along now.

Anyway, we were treated to one of the most entertaining Indy 500's in years, and not just because of Danica Patrick, although that certainly helped. I was finally glad to see a driver that was a woman rather than a woman driver.

See, while Shawna Robinson and Lynn St. James and Janet Guthrie could drive, I never thought of them as racers. They were always women that raced. I think that Sarah Fisher is a racer, but she spent too much time with awful teams and ultimately hurt her future in Indy cars.

Danica, on the other hand, is a racer. She was fastest on every day except pole day, and that was only because of a lap one bobble that would have seen about 28 of the 33 cars in the field wreck if they had a similar incident.

She raced fast and hard and clean (except for her blunder under caution), she led meaningful and plentiful laps and she finished 4th. I think she's going to be great for the sport in general and for the Indy 500 in particular.

Then, it was time for the Coke 600, but not before I removed the ribs from the Egg. Here's also a good place to tell you that beer makes you forget recipes that you think are stuck in your head. I was shooting for "fall off the bone" ribs, but what I got was good and tasty NOT fall off the bone ribs.

Why? Because the 3-2-.5 recipe for indirect/indirect foiled/direct was fouled up and ended up as 3-1-.5, so we lost out on 60 valuable minutes in the make them fall off the bone process. I apologize to everyone for that.

The 600 started, stopped, started, stopped, etc. for a record 22 cautions, which turned out to be more than I could take. I'll admit it. I was drunk. The last guest left about 9:30 when Cooley took my friends to their hotel. I stayed awake for the remaining 2 hours of the demolition derby at Charlotte, but I was wrecked. Thank GOD we had an off-day Monday so I could recover.

Oh, and we also had a fire on my deck thanks to the shitty ass plastic torch fuel holder thingies they sell at Wal-Mart and the Depot and Lowe's and I'm sure at every other retailer. See, the cans that hold the fuel used to be made of metal, but it would rust, meaning you couldn't refill them.

So, in their infinite wisdom, they made the "can" out of plastic. I filled them to about half an inch under the "fill to" line, replaced them in their holders and lit them.

About an hour or two later, one of my guests said "hey dude...you have a fire out here."

I peeked out, saw the flames on two of the four torches, got the fire extinguisher, and put them out. Turns out, they burned down THRU the metal cover and melted the bottles right to the level of the fuel. Was it dumb luck or physics that kept the fuel from bursting into flames? I don't know. But I don't know how to dispose of this shit to return them for a refund or anything. Maybe I can just walk there and walk in the door with them, and see how WalMart reacts.

Stupid shittily made products.

Anyway, the day was a success, my friends Kurt and Bonnie won $20 in the 500 and my dad won $70 in the 600, but the processing fee is going to be steep. LOL

That was quite a weekend. Let's move to the past seven days so you'll know where I've been.

Tuesday morning I went to work knowing that a short week and a travel day to Anderson Friday meant busy as shit the three days I was in the office, and I was right.

I got to stay late to setup a laptop for someone only to find that they left early, meaning my extra work was meaningless and unnecessary. Oh, and I didn't get a thank you from her for it either. Thanks.

That same day, Lauren awoke and spoke the following words:

"I want to wear big girl underpants."

The potty training was on.

(A note here. The following information contains details about pee pee's and poopies and other stuff, so if this isn't what you want to read about, well, actually I don't give a shit. If you have read this far, you are probably someone that I know that knows my urchin, and you know how great she is, so you're probably saying to yourself "HEY ASSHOLE!! Get back to the excitement of potty training and stop prattling on about nothing." Done and done).

She went thru the week with about one accident a day, which was great. She has been using the potty off and on for about 6 months, but has shown no interest in getting serious, so we didn't push it. The last thing I wanted for my daughter was pee and poop trauma. That stuff'll scar you for life.

So she was doing great, but she hadn't dropped the deuce since Monday, and it got to be Friday and she wasn't eating much, and you have to start to wonder if they can't eat any more until they make room. She talked about having to poop, but not much was going on, so we quietly gave her a little benefiber for a couple of days to see what would shake out.

In the middle of this and while I was in Anderson Friday, my brother in law had some of his guys over for some maintenance, and he arranged for them to basically demolish 80% of our front beds and strip all of our landscaping of its pinestraw covering. They also dug some very low profile trenching for a drainage pipe from my downspout to alleviate some water issues I'm having in the back yard. I couldn't and still can't thank him enough for all he does for us. He's a good man.

That evening, we planned a little on what I could do in the front yard, made some mulch decisions and scheduled delivery of something I hadn't picked out yet, but still no kids dropped off at the pool by my spawn.

Saturday morning, it was off to the mulch place to pick out some product. The folks there were great and very patient, and in the end I bought 5 cubic yards (about 800 square feet) of mulch, DELIVERED, for $129. I was shocked.

One sidenote here is that I never write checks. Ever. So it was not a surprise at all to have the driver get out and hand me the checkbook that I left on their counter. Like I said, they're good people.

After it showed up 30 minutes later, Uncle Todd started scheming and planning. Apparently, to do this, he needs freshly turned dirt, a can of spray paint, a tape measure and a toothpick. Oh, and a rake for when it doesn't look right so he can turn it over and start again.

After two draw and turns, we hit on something with the third try. He gave the wife and Aunt Heather a list and sent them to Home Depot. While they were gone, I started putting out the mulch.

They returned with some Liriope (non-verigated), some holly bushes, and some other stuff I can't remember, pronounce, or spell. That was when it turned from consulting to construction.

Todd is, first off, one of the most generous people I know. No matter the time, place, or really who it is, he always thinks of other people first. I have learned alot living across from him, but I have to try hard to be close to that good, and it seems to come naturally to him. I strive to be better, and that's really all you can do.

Anyway, there apparently came a point where he either decided I was working wrong or slow or both, and he felt bad, because he jumped in with the shovel and went to town. He created our flower bed to the right of the front steps, laid out the plants for deposit in the very rocky right bed, and dug the many liriope holes for planting to the right as well.

He shoveled mulch, he swept mulch, he blew clean the driveway and walk and lawn several times, he bundled for disposal all of the crap that comes with $237 worth of plants and soil at Home Depot (it was actually more, but the moron at the counter kept not ringing stuff up, so I think he was distracted by my wife and sister-in-law's breasts), and all the while did not complain once.

Here he was, sacrificing his Saturday to help us at the expense of time with his family. I tell you, he's good people.

When we were finished, we let Lauren water everything while I suffered a myocardial infarction, an angina, and possibly and embolism. I am usually not much for yard work, but it feels nice to see your work produce something nice to look at, even if you didn't design it yourself or do it by yourself.

I was and am completely sunburned in a highly redneck fashion, but the worst part is the back of my left upper arm. I was on the shovel so much that this very sensitive skin was burned crispy, and hurts like shit still...

I did cook the baked potatoes on my small Big Green Egg (I know, it's an oxymoron). Anyway, I have been warned recently about popping embers when lighting with a MAPP torch, so I have been taking precautions to prevent myself from getting an ember in the eye like my friend Nature Boy.

Saturday, after successfully lighting the Egg from behind the lid, I lifted the torch to shut it off and, when I did, two embers shot up at the same time. One hit and stuck to my neck on the left side and the other hit and stuck to my forehead just above my right eyebrow. Both hurt like a motherfucker, blistered up immediately and still hurt now.

Safety note: Always ALWAYS wear eyewear of some sort and closed toed shoes when lighting the egg.

That afternoon it was a quick trip to Sam's for a whole ribeye and (oddly enough) QuikTrip for ice and cold beers. We ate like kings that night and we slept like a stones.

Oh, I did leave out that I walked back into the den from a little more outside work late in the day, and Lauren was sitting on the pot holding the handles and bent at the waist with her head nearly touching the ground. See, she hadn't pooped since Monday, so we were getting concerned.

Next thing I know, she's shouting "I made poopies in the potty!!! Where's my present??"

Apparently, we had said if she pooped in the potty, she got a present. Good enough. Out came the Polly Pockets Convertible. Woo Hoo!!!

Until Sunday morning, when we had to get up by 7am to get ready since Uncle Todd and family invited us (along with Uncle Adam and his boy Mitch) to take the boat to the Lantern Inn for the breakfast buffet.

We took a very leisurely ride to the Lantern Inn, stuffed ourselves sick, then headed back. On the way back, Lauren even used the head on the boat, which was a big deal for sure. Adam paid for breakfast (surprise) and we headed home while Todd and Heather stayed out all day with the kids. Like I said, good folks all around.

That afternoon, she went over to the pot without saying anything, quietly dropped the deuce again, got up and said "where's my present?"

Life lesson number (insert number here): You don't get a present every time you take a shit. If you did, no one would get anything done because we'd all be shitting and waiting for presents.

We also got a quote for painting three rooms in the house, and $340 is a hell of a deal, so we'll be getting that done later this summer.

We watched the Dover race while I finished to Boston Butts for my friend Susan. They were the lowest maintenance ones yet and I think they turned out the best ever. I love making them almost more than I love eating them, which I know sounds strange.

We finished the day with a smashed Cooley's pizza and a dip in the old hot pool at casa de in-laws, and my daughter was spent after that. Hell, we all were.

Anyway, you can see that we have been quite busy and I have been and am very tired. I really mean to update this thing more often so posts aren't 5,000 words or more, but hey, you don't pay for this so why should I give a crap?

Until next time...

p.s. In the effort to come up with baby names, we've asked the kids for help. Nick came up with Nicole. If only I hadn't already named my first child Lauren Nicole, that'd have been a winner. Nice try, boy.

This week's suggestions from me are:

for a boy - Adam Patrick

This was the one we had slated if the Lauren had been a boy. Now, the wife is wavering, and I don't know why. If it was good enough for the other one, why isn't it good enough now? Sheesh.

for a girl - I don't know. I like Honor as a middle name. It's old fashioned, Irish like my wife and comes from her maternal grandmother. My wife's unsure.

What are you gonna do?

Anyway, keep the name suggestions coming.

Thanks for reading. I'm terribly witty and entertaining...aren't I?