That’s what my dad told us, my friends and I, when we wandered down to his lab to see what he was working on. He was and is always working on something. At that point, he had a mic set up in the basement and the sound was somehow being transmitted via laser. I kid you not.
When my dad was still in undergrad at Stanford, he and my mom and older brother lived in the married student housing available to families on campus. They were tiny places stacked next to each other. On the occasions that they were invited next door to dinner and my brother needed to sleep, they would walk next door and enjoy the company of their friends safe in the knowledge that they could hear any move my brother would make in his crib because of the one way radio my dad rigged that sat near his crib. It was a baby monitor, you know, like EVERYONE has now, except it was 1963.
I’m sure there are countless other things that I never heard about. I definitely heard about the laser thing, and it’s predecessor, which consisted of point to point microwave communications, upon which he built a company. He and a couple of the other guys even got to go to Reagan’s ranch to set some up as a test.
The point of all of this being, of course, that I am my father’s daughter, and if he can do all these things, I can certainly bend time and pretend that I did not forget to post yesterday today.
I am officially a time traveler.
Posted.
Remember when I lost an entire weekend to Animal Crossing? I do. Welcome to my Sunday. I might as well have hay in my teeth. I set about clearing all my requests from Facebook today. There were something like 150 of them languishing in my procrastination pile. Among them were a least a few dozen Farmville requests, thus my toiling in overalls all day. 
Forget Mistletoeing and hearts glowing, for me it is all about the things that go bump in the night. We’re actually a little late getting started this year, as usually the decorations go up no later than the first of October. (Target might be the only place Halloweened before our house.) We go spooky inside and out. We generally add one new element every year, but we’re getting pretty full up at this point. There are something like six assorted gigantic tubs and boxes full of the fright makings stowed in our garage as we speak. The boxes will be dragged out tomorrow and our home will transform from cozy to creepsville. We’re not one of those “Everyday is Halloween” families, but for one month out of the year, our blood runs black and orange.