Walldren's World

Yesterday I was greeted home by my 3.5 year old son who was excited to say that he had been making me Teddy Bears at the Beach. I had no idea what he was talking about, but his enthusiasm was palpable. I entered the kitchen to find the following creation waiting for me at my seat at the table: I have to admit, I have an incredibly creative wife that would do this craft with our kids. Whether or not she found it on Pinterest  (or insert "mommy blog" name here), it was a fun thing to come home to and the kids and I both enjoyed the treat. I recommend it.

In our last installment I mused over the discovery of carpenter bees living some support beams under our deck. In this installment I shall put forward a question to the general public: Just what is causing an almost perfectly rectangular segment of mulch to disappear from the back of our house? Actual photo of the missing mulch (last seen several weeks ago). This is the second time the mulch has disappeared on its own without any clear sign as to why. My wife and I are understandably concerned. Not so much as to go around putting up Missing Mulch posters, but truly baffled by what could be causing it. One possible culprit may be a hot water exhaust that's about 20 feet or so above the spot. A possible explanation may include recent heavy rains channeled downward at rapid speed due to that fixture. Does anyone out there have ideas? Even conspiracy theories are welcomed at this point.

Imagine if you will that you saw a pile of fine sawdust near the support beam of the stairs leading down from your deck. Next, imagine that you heard faint, pained singing coming from the direction of that pile. The closer you approached the pile, the louder the song became. Until you finally recognized the melody was this: Drawn closer to the song, you realized that it came from a perfectly circular hole carved into in the support beam. It's as if an itinerant handyman with a circle cutter stopped by to make a hobo sign on part of your house. Well, if you take out all of the stuff I've written up to this point involving Tim Hardin 's classic song, that's what we discovered this weekend at our house. We have carpenter bees ! Actual photo of the circular hole made by the bees Despite this beam being treated with stain, the bees made themselves right at home. According to the ever useful about.com, the next step to take to avoid structural damage is to a

This weekend my lovely wife said something that made my mind immediately think of Frank Herbert’s classic novel, Dune. I did not know that if you sprinkle cinnamon in a sandbox that it will keep ants away . While this is all fascinating and practical, I immediately thought the following: if you sprinkle cinnamon in a sandbox, you create a spice blow in miniature on Arakkis . What better way to engage your toddler with early science fiction / fantasy geekery? Soon after, Lego harvesters can show up to capture the spice mass and sell it to the spacing guild. Before you know it, a byzantine world of interstellar politics will erupt in your sandbox! Native Fremen will clash with the elite warriors of House Harkonnen . From the ashes of a fallen royal house, Muad’Dib will arise and conquer the galaxy in a bloody war. In addition to the fun of adding cinnamon to your sandbox, studious use of water toys and Bermuda grass can terraform your once barren Arakkis into a green world. Gener

Today I crossed a new threshold that reminded me of that episode of Seinfeld where Kramer takes a test drive and convinces the dealer to keep on going after the needle hits E. Today I have traveled the longest distance between fill ups in the history of owning my car. That distance was driving 340.6 miles. Ooh. Ahh. I know that's not all that far, but considering I panic and start filling up once I hit the 300 mile mark this was a small milestone. Overall, despite the absurd commute my car is performing much better and getting more mileage than when we lived in Chicago. Here's a snapshot of my last four fill-ups: This week's audiobook choice was prompted from seeing a banner ad on Goodreads  for Dan Brown's new Dante-inspired Robert Langdon novel. (That's right, fellow marketeers, a banner ad prompted me to take action at my local library! Monetize that !)  I thought, " I'm hip. I'm with it . I better catch up and read The Lost S

What is my 2006 Hyundai Sonata? Well, it's my personal conveyance between home and work. I spend anywhere between 180 minutes and 240 minutes in it per day going southbound on 985 and 85. It is also a remarkable advertising opportunity for the right sponsor. Now you may very well be asking yourself as a prospective advertiser, what is the reach of my vehicle? 36.9 miles between Buford, GA and Midtown Atlanta. What's the frequency? Twice a day. What are the demographics of the target audience? Frustrated commuters who, like this driver, spend far too much time in their cars. Potential products and services I would consider soliciting are: Streaming music services (Pandora, Spotify), NPR, Public Transit, Ride Shares, Public Safety Messages and seminars for calming road rage. What sort of pricing model are we talking about? This idea is still germinating. All interested parties should contact me directly to discuss options.

When I lived in the Chicago area, I would walk a mile to a train that would drop me 1 mile from my office. Such as it was, I was getting daily exercise and a mostly relaxing ride into work each day. Missing a train wasn't such a bad thing as the longest I'd ever have to wait for a train was 1 hour, and during peak times, about 20 minutes. I enjoyed unlimited commutes for about $120 per month. When I moved to Atlanta, I knew I would be driving. But I had no idea just how much. Out of strange curiosity in mid-January, I began keeping track of my mileage. My daily commute is about 36.9 miles each way. This translates into 90 minutes in the morning and about 75 minutes in the evening. Here's a table of my 2006 Hyundai Sonata's performance to date. For those keeping score, I am paying more to drive into work. Add in what I pay for parking, and it's close to double. There is a spectacular trade-off however. Back in Chicago, what I spend on my mortgage today got