Last Thursday PB and I headed up the NoVA (that would be Northern Virginia, for those of you unfamiliar with how we refer to the other part of the state. Seriously, it is separate from us.) for a little mini-break.

First stop was the National Museum of the Marine Corps. The building is an arresting site from I-95. And by arresting, I mean that your first thought is, “What the hell is that building and why does it look like that?” Then you take a minute to think about it and realize that it is meant to evoke the Iwo Jima Memorial. (Also, I just learned that it is actually called the Marine Corps War Memorial.)

In the museum you learn that that was not the first flag raised on Iwo Jima, if you didn’t already know that. Well, you learn many other things too, actually. It’s a good museum.

Oddly, the day we went the Army Band was setting up in the lobby.

We toured the museum for several hours. I was getting cranky because, hey, when I don’t eat, I get cranky and it was oh, 2:30ish. So, we hit a McDonald’s on the way north/back to the highway. PB managed to drip ketchup on his lap from his quarter-pounder. I had my Tide Pen, but he was driving. Of course, the ketchup was on his left side. And my left hand is my dinosaur hand, so I was forced to used my right. Which meant I had to lean over. Into the driver’s seat. Facing his lap while trying to get the ketchup out with the Tide Pen. Luckily from this position I couldn’t see the faces of the other people on the road.

We went to a concert at Wolftrap (Honor by August and Pat McGee, if you’re wondering) with friends of his that night. Here’s a little tip from me to you: when you go to an outdoor concert to which you can bring a picnic, make sure to bring your own caterer. To do this, you need to make friends with (or have one of your friends date) a caterer. Trust me on this one.

Oh, and then make sure to arrange it so that you are in charge of beverages and not food.

Friday we hit DC for some touristy things. Library of Congress (excellent!), the Capitol Visitors Center (on a whim ‘cause there’s a tunnel from the Library of Congress, fairly interesting, although we toured the exhibit of the Capital through time backwards), the Smithsonian Museum of American History (meh. The New York Times agrees.) and the World War II Memorial.

Although, the highlight for me was watching the Uruguay-Ghana World Cup game in a restaurant while we had lunch. With Uruguayans. And a table rooting for Ghana.

When we returned (earlier than expected. PB’s done something to his back.) I took the ketchup shorts and washed them. I haven’t done boy laundry in forever and forgot about checking pockets.

PB has a new cell phone now.

Saturday I took TRgirl and Spiderman to the airport. I drove her car, as it's easier than switching the car seat into mine. The AC was turned up very high, and Saturday was a fairly cool day, at least compared to the past few weeks. I was freezing, but didn't say anything because, hey, her car. Finally though, I had to say something, as in my experience the ability to feel one's fingers is helpful when driving. Her response, "Oh my god, please turn it up! I was just about to say something. Randy and my rule is that the driver controls the temperature." Essentially, we both sat there freezing because we thought the other one had control of the temperature.

I got the go-ahead from my orthopedist today to start physical therapy. Tomorrow is my first day. I am both excited and dreading it.

I also finally called to make a talk therapy appointment. I am dealing less and less successfully with a certain situation, and I really need some help to deal with it. Fingers crossed that she and I click.

I’m seeing this more and more. People confusing “aisle” and “isle”. Example: “Every time I go to the grocery store I have to visit the isle with the BBQ sauce.” (This is not the only example. Only the most recent. And it’s different people.)

I am fairly certain that your grocery store does not have isles.

Homophone confusion. Grr.

For reference, here are the definitions from Merriam-Webster. Note the differing etymologies.

aisle
Pronunciation: \ˈī(-ə)l\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English ile, alteration of ele, from Anglo-French, literally, wing, from Latin ala; akin to Old English eaxl shoulder, Latin axis axletree — more at AXIS
Date: 15th century
1 : the side of a church nave separated by piers from the nave proper
2 a (1) : a passage (as in a theater or railroad passenger car) separating sections of seats (2) : such a passage regarded as separating opposing parties in a legislature b : a passage (as in a store or warehouse) for inside traffic

isle
Pronunciation: \ˈī(-ə)l\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French ile, isle, from Latin insula
Date: 13th century
: island; especially : islet 1

As anyone who has ever owned (lived with?) a cat can tell you, they are difficult to train. Not in the sense that they can’t learn what the rules are, but rather in the sense that they know the rules but don’t care to follow them, thank you very much. So, you get kind of used to this and don’t necessarily see when they are doing things they shouldn’t.

People who don’t have cats don’t understand this. Once, I was at a party at a friend’s place. Her cat jumped up on the counter. Another guest said, “The cat’s on the counter!” at which point she was shooed off. Only to jump up again a few minutes later. The person who had noticed the cat the first time said to me, “Why can’t she keep the cat off of the counter?” I explained that she clearly was confusing “cat” with “dog”.

All of this to lead into this story. Sunday morning PB came downstairs with a water glass that he was going to empty and then put in the dishwasher. I was making breakfast and kind of had my back turned. When I heard, “There’s a cat in the sink!” I turned around to see a shocked look on his face. PB’s, not the cat’s. The cat was all, “And what?”

And then I shooed the cat out of the sink. Really, easier than trying to keep him out of it.