Empress Ayva

Queen for a day, our little Ayva looks the part of royalty. I need to research the bloodlines a little closer, but it's hard to look this good in a tiara unless the shoe, er ah, crown fits. I'm saving my pennies to send her to finishing school.

Sweet Nectar

I was sitting on the deck at lunch time, just minding my own business, when I heard a slight buzzing sound behind me. A little bumblebee was ransacking Julie's flowers and running away with the pollen. Truffle lay at my feet soaking in the Summer sun. Time standing still.

Smokeless Ashtray

Jessica has come up with a new way to smoke in public without bothering others. The only caveat is you want to be sitting upwind of the bubbles.

Hell Freezes Over

My son John, 28 years old, gave me a $100 last week to take Julie out for dinner. Okay, I get it Lord.

Most blessed and glorious Creator,
you have nourished me all my life
and redeemed me from all evil.
It is your gracious will
to take me out of this fragile life
and to wipe away all my tears from my eyes
and all the sorrows from my heart.
I humbly consent to your divine plan
and I cast myself into your sacred arms.
I am ready, dear Lord,
and earnestly expect and long for your good pleasure.
Come quickly and receive your servant
who trusts completely in you.

Photo by Keyla Mullen

No Time to Shilly-Shally

I travel for a living. Part of a sales team, I depart from Bradley International Airport at 6:00 a.m., land in Anywhere USA for a meeting, and travel back to Hartford by midnight.

Some people think flying is glamorous, but in reality it isn't much different than taking a bus. The only difference I can see is the jet lag. You can easily simulate this feeling by getting tossed around the john in the back of the bus. The back end movement and smell of diesel fuel is a perfect substitute for airplane turbulence.

Oddly enough despite being in the air, I feel safer in an airplane than I do a bus. Maybe it is all the traffic darting in and out on the highways. But with this week's emergency landing of a Qantas jet in Manila, I am reminded that death is but a fuselage away.

So I am paying closer attention to the flight instructions (again), and I have a recommendation for the airlines to make us all safer - interview the people sitting equidistant from front and back exit rows.

Consider the following pre-flight safety instructions:

There are several emergency exits on this aircraft. Please take a few moments now to locate your nearest exit keeping in mind your nearest exit may be behind you.

In the same way the stewardess (I'm over 50) ask the exit row passengers if they speak English and are willing to help in the case of an emergency, they should ask the middling passengers if they suffer from decidophobia. Six rows from either exit, they'd never make it out of the plane.

Something simple like, "Do you prefer the color red or the color blue?"

"Red! No wait, blue...I mean red. I don't know, what do you think?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are going to need you to move up one row."

Slipping Trends

A day doesn't go by without someone announcing a new product, better technology, or ground breaking advancements in something. Life changes fast. Most of the time I can't keep up with it. Once in awhile I can see it coming.

Yesterday the Wall Street Journal had an article about the disappearance of the slip. Apparently we won't be seeing the remake of Petticoat Junction anytime soon. Okay, so changing trends in women's underwear isn't front page news, but they published the article and I found it. It also wasn't breaking news to me as I wrote a blog about see through skirts and the thong back in 2006. Julie wasn't too fond of that one, so no link is provided.

Personally, I prefer a little mystery. I find it hard to believe the slip is really that passé. I’m going to continue to do my own study to confirm the thong is taking over. I’ll report back to you in a year.

From the Mullen Clan archives:

In 1978 Julie and I were driving home to Vermont for our summer vacation. Stationed in northern Michigan, a good friend of ours asked us to drop him off in Shaker Heights, OH to attend a wedding. We arrived at the bride’s house mid-morning and as we got there the bridesmaids were gathering for photographs. Wearing yellow chiffon dresses, the mother of the bride was appalled as she peered through the back lit gowns of the wedding party.

“Oh, my God! No one wore a slip? You girls are not walking down the aisle of Saint Dominic with your underwear showing!”

“Mom, no one has a slip and we don’t have time to go shopping. We have to finish the photos and get to the church.”

Caught in the crossfire of a last minute wedding snafu, Julie spoke up to offer a solution.

“Mom, I think I can help you out!”

“Who are you?”

“Julie Mullen. We just came to drop off one of the grooms, but I could help you with the slips.”

“You have 5 slips on you?”

“No, but I do have a half-dozen night gowns in my luggage and if you have some scissors and a sewing machine I can fix your problem.”

“You girls follow…Julie?...yes, Julie into the house and do what she says…now!”

30 minutes later every bridesmaid came out with a slip or modified nightgown sewn into her skirt. The mom insisted we stay for the wedding, made us sit with her family, and put us up in the master bedroom that evening. We enjoyed the wedding, made new friends and danced the night away. Julie slept in her underwear.

Hard to believe I have a story for reminiscing about the slip, but I do. A guy has to blog about something.

Driving Mister Daisy

The first war crimes trial of a Gitmo detainee started today, and already the judge has thrown out evidence allegedly coerced from Salim Hamdan. A limo driver for Osama Bin Laden, Salim is accused of being part of the al-Qaida network, or at least helping them out. His lawyers say he was just a driver and mechanic.

I can understand that logic. When I was in the Air Force, I was really just a paper pusher working in the Personnel Department. During basic training we had to qualify on the M-16 rifle by firing 80 rounds and hitting a man-sized target 40 times. I was so bad at gunfire, my target had less than 30 hits while the airman next to me had 90. You could hardly call me a soldier, but I did have the fastest WPM rating of any typist at the CBPO.

So what if they did find 2 surface-to-air missiles in Salim's car at the time of his arrest? What does that prove? People are always misplacing their rockets. Give the guy a break! If Sal says he didn't do it, that is good enough for me.

The New York Times described Mr. Hamdan as a wiry man with a 4th grade education. Ah, the old hungry and stupid defense tactic. When Bin Laden first met him, Salim was probably standing by the roadside holding a sign that read, "Homeless: Will fire rocket launcher for food".

The same article points out Mr. Hamdan only made $200 a month working for Bin Laden. The inference being his level of pay makes him an insignificant figure and likely a guy who just did his job - see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Maybe, but they didn't mention in the article that the average Afghan monthly wage is only $30. Or that one third of all Afghans are unemployed. Driving a loaded cab around the countryside doesn't seem like such a bad job after all, even if it doesn't have a GPS system.

"Take a left after that 2nd pile of rocks."

"But Boss, there ain't no road on the map for another 6 miles."

"Just do it....and forget I ever told you where to turn. You hear me, you 4th grade imbecile?"

"Hear you what, Boss? I didn't see no 2nd pile of rocks. No sir, I ain't even seen a rock today, Boss Man. Any of you other guys see any rocks? Nope, last rock I saw..."

"Alright already, enough with the rocks - just drive! And stop calling me, Boss!"

Water Please!

We are in the middle of a heat wave in Connecticut. Temperatures have been in the mid-90's since Thursday with the heat index above 100 all weekend. Air quality warnings were posted with a suggestion to stay indoors in an air conditioned room. We had a red moon rising for two consecutive nights. It is hot!

We had posted both a bluegrass and hot air balloon festival on the family calendar, but no one wanted to bake in the sun. We'll save the date for next year.

Predicted thunder storms didn't pan out. We'll be doing a rain dance on the deck just before sundown. In the meantime, I'm having a bowl of ice cream for dinner.

Friday Night Fights

Twenty years ago we played Setback almost every Friday night. A deck of cards, a pack of smokes and a bottle of whiskey - bliss. Then we played until we ran out of booze, or passed out, sometimes both. Now we sip on lemonade and quit when everyone starts yawning. We're loading the dishwasher by midnight.

Team play is the preference at our table and there is an assumption your spouse can't be your partner. It's as close to adultery as either Julie or I ever get. There usually is a little touching, but it's on the order of a high five at the end of the game. Still, getting a little too cozy with your evening Pitch Pal can lead to insomnia.

Her: Well, you and Lindsay seemed to really enjoy cards tonight.

Me: Yeah, it was fun.

Her: Huh. It seemed like a little more than fun to me.

Me: What are you talking about?

Her: Oh, I don't know....how about out taking the bid from me 10 times?

Me: I had good cards.

Her: Good cards? Give me a break! I had the Ace-King-Queen of Spades on the last hand and you took the bid for 3 with a high of what?

Me: 9 of Hearts?

Her: Yes! The 9 of Hearts. The frickin' 9 of Hearts.

Me: But we won our tricks.

Her: Only because your GIRLFRIEND had the Ace and 2. You guys must have cheated. And what was the deal with going ga-ga over her hair style? I cut my hair yesterday and you didn't even say 1 frickin' word!

Me: Jeez, Hon, I thought you looked beautiful tonight. Are you sure I didn't say something? I know I commented on the suit shaped cookies you made; they were delicious!

Her: Well, next time tell me that I'm beautiful and just eat the damned cookies. I don't get all dolled up for myself you know. Lindsay's new hair style does look nice on her.

Me: I guess.

Her: You know I'm not really mad, but why did you bid 3 with the 9 of Hearts?

Me: Lindsay took a bite out of a Heart shaped cookie.

Reading of the Banns

Geoff and Jennifer eloped this past weekend to Newport, RI and tied the knot - marriage not sailors. The actual wedding took place yesterday, July 15th. They caught everyone by surprise.

The family is anxious to celebrate with the newlyweds, but no one is quite sure when they are coming home. My guess is the renegade couple will knock off a bank before heading back to Stafford Springs.

Hot off the wire from my sister Jen:

Hi Rob,

Yesterday, 7/15/08, Geoff and I got married by the sea in lovely Newport,Rhode Island. We are so Happy to finally be united in Holy Matrimony.

We would love for everyone to be happy for us and to celebrate in our Joy. We will be organizing a reception soon with the family so we can all toast to our new life together!

All Our Love,

Jennifer and Geoff

We've raised a glass already, Jen & Geoff - congratulations!

God Wins Art Contest

For all of our artistic talent, it's hard to outdo what God has created in nature. The photo above is of a Pandorus Sphinx Moth captured by family friend Megan Thomsen at Terra Gardens, Vernon, CT. You'd have a hard time designing the same patterns in Photoshop. Stunning!

Anniversary

31 years into our covenant I think about the things that have made our marriage strong - friendship, laughter, forgiveness, humility, children, grandchildren, parents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews, friends, love and faith.

Thank you God, for watching over us.

Ora et Labora

I read a line in a book last night attributed to St. Benedict that went something like, the keeper of the pots and pans should regard them as "sacred vessels of the altar." In other words, there is holiness in the everyday things we do in life.

I couldn't help but think of my wife, Julie. She is a Benedictine for sure. Selfless, she takes joy in serving others regardless of the task or effort. Her motive is to please God. Nothing trivial about her life.

If I know people are coming over to the house, I order pizza. If Julie knows people are coming over to the house, she takes out a 1/2 dozen pots, stick something in the oven and lights the grill. She doesn't want to eat with people, she wants to feed them.

Growing up she learned to cook for a family of 7; she's always thinking large portions. I've even seen her perform the miracle of the fishes and the loaves where we'll only have $50 in the checking account, and yet, she comes home with $150 worth of groceries to feed the masses. Hey, who is more important, our friends or the bank?

Thank you Benedict and Julie for showing us the way - orea et labora - pray and work.

Not Liking the Odds

Watching the late news last night I saw a story of a 21 year old NH woman who was struck by lightning. While standing in her garage, a bolt of lightning entered through her feet and exited through her nose ring. The young woman, unfazed by the event, was asked if she planned on resting for the evening. She responded, "Are you kidding? I just got electrocuted. I'm too charged up to sleep!"

It was reported the odds of being hit by lightning are 1 in 280,000. I'm not sure where the TV station got that number but it seemed frightfully low to me, so I looked it up. According to a National Geographic site, the chance of being hit by lightning during your lifetime is actually 1 in 5,000! If you suffer from astraphobia don't panic just yet as the odds improve to 1 in 500,000 for any particular Summer. And yet, you still can't respond to 'what are the chances?' with a 1 in 1,000,000 response. Who'd a thunk it?

So you don't think you'll ever get hit by lightning, but you do daydream about how to spend your $100,000,000 Powerball earnings every Friday night. The odds of winning the Powerball grand prize - 1 in a 1,000,000? Try 1 in 146,107,962. Who'd a thunk it?

I don't know what the hell lightning and the lottery have to do with each other, but I was fascinated by the odds. Besides, I had this cool picture of lightning I took at an airport last month just waiting to be blogged. By the way, tomorrow's winning numbers are 4,7,11,15,24 and 13. Clear skies are in the forecast.

I Do

I read an article from the Catholic News Service over the weekend that said married couples who go to church together are happier people. While I am sure happiness isn't reserved only for the faithfully united, the study results don't surprise me.

Standing hand in hand on a Sunday to offer thanks, pray for loved ones, and continue to grow in a relationship with a loving God is a good thing. Goodness can only lead to happiness.

Water Works

Understanding the the concept of time, I've become possessive of the minutes; no time to waste. After observing Natie Joe on the deck yesterday, I swear he is creating time.

I think we'd be better off without the watches, calendars and PIMs. There's time on the clock we can't even see. We just have to take it.

Breakfast Club

We had a full compliment of guests for our Sunday brunch this weekend. Food, family and friends is a great way to celebrate the accomplishments of the week just ended, and a wonderful way to kick off the coming days. All centered on prayer of course!

Bless us our Lord, for these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Chefs from left to right - Commis Chef Biff (hash browns), Commis Chef Jimpy (sausage), Souse-chef de Cuisine Joey (bacon and toast) and Chef de Cuisine Moon (eggs). Photo by Julie.

Fresh Coat

Sometimes you need to retool in life and start anew. There is no shame in that.

If life were a graph measured only in time you'd see a straight line running through the middle of the grid. But life's experiences move in random ways with some of the points on the page in the black, and others in the red. The plotted line winds along an unpredictable course.

Fortunately, we can count on friends and family to help steer us back on path when we do move off center. This week we had a host of friends and family pitch in to lend a hand to makeover our daughter's room. Off recuperating from a minor setback, everyone wanted to welcome her home to a new beginning.

Thank you for hard work Mimi, Mum, Lori, Kim, Marie, Joel, Bob, Cathy, Noelle, Dan, Jen, Geoff, Joe, Cheryl, James, John and Keyla. Many others contributed thoughts and prayers throughout the week; we heard them all. Thank you God for sending so much love our way.

Can't Light the Fuse

I woke up to the steady pitter-patter of rain this morning. Nice way to cool down the temperature, but I can't recall the last time the 4th of July got rained out. No big deal really, none of the local events are scheduled for today. This year we're celebrating the 4th of July on the 5th in Hartford.

I always wonder who the guy was with balls big enough to screw with the holidays. Changing Washington and Lincoln's birthdays to President's Day, shifting around celebratory civic days to a convenient Monday. Was there ever an official day for Memorial Day or Labor Day? How can Memorial Day be memorial if the date keeps changing? Don't let the bastards mess with Christmas.

Two (okay maybe three) unrelated, non-4th of July, random observations after spending 20 minutes reading news headlines on the Internet:

Headline from an article on ESPN.com today: A year ago, Amobi Okoye was drafted by the Texans at age 19 -- as the youngest player ever drafted in NFL history. Now, he is finally 21 and enjoying every minute of it. No doubt this guy will be suspended for steroids, he skipped a year!

Whiffle Ball, manufactured in Shelton, CT, is 55 years old this Summer. The amazing fact here isn't the 55 years, but the "made in U.S.A." label. So long as the kids don't pull out the extension cord and start playing Backyard Baseball for Nintendo Wii in the backyard, Whiffle Ball will remain America's real pastime. Wii is easier on the rotator cuff.

Baseball is about as American as the family sedan these days. 28% of all major leaguers are foreign born while a whopping 47% of minor players are from other countries. Hey, at least the owners are all American....wait, I think a Japanese conglomerate owns part of the Mariners.

Oh, well. Back to drying out my firecrackers. Here's hoping for sunshine on the 5th of July!

Blossoming Fourth

Driving home last night from an early evening visit with a friend, we were greeted by a fireworks display over I-84 just west of Vernon, CT. Over the course of the next 10 days, the skies in Connecticut will be filled with rockets red glare.

Get out with your family and enjoy the community sponsored events of the 4th of July - parades, concerts and fireworks. Look around you and take note of the diversity of people enjoying the same events, the same freedoms.

In a violent world where most countries can't support competing ethnic or religious groups, the United States tolerates them all. America is an awesome place to live.