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Is it any wonder I’m insisting on good passwords now?

Just a hint of part of the problem

Feb  6 04:08:18  sshd: Failed password for illegal user test from 212.94.223.99 port 59096 ssh2
Feb  6 04:08:18  sshd: Failed password for illegal user test from 212.94.223.99 port 59105 ssh2
Feb  6 04:08:18  sshd: Failed password for illegal user test from 212.94.223.99 port 59094 ssh2
Feb  6 04:08:27  sshd: Failed password for illegal user guest from 212.94.223.99 port 59499 ssh2
Feb  6 04:08:27  sshd: Failed password for illegal user guest from 212.94.223.99 port 59513 ssh2

Continue reading “Is it any wonder I’m insisting on good passwords now?”

Fun at the ice bats

So, we took Grace to her first hockey game. She wanted popcorn and cotton candy — some of which she even shared with Cy. By the time she had had enough, her fingers were more than modestly sticky.

But she wanted some more popcorn. One bite, and the look on her face demonstrated that she realized the cross-contamination problem.

Then, she got that sly look on her face, and I knew she had thought of a silly solution: to simply dip her mouth directly into the popcorn (as I was holding it), thereby bypassing the sugary fingers.

Also, when the game first began, she said “Miss Jody says that we don’t play with sticks.”

I’ve said it before, but I can’t repeat it too often: of all the things I never expected of being a daddy, her sense of humor is the most pleasantly surprising element.

There was also some confusion at the end of the “Rudy’s Barberque Sauce Drinking Contest” when the buzzer went off, but it was quickly cleared up when we realized that none of the contestants were miked.

Half a fscking hour…

It took less than 30 minutes for some user — notice that that is luser with a silent ‘l’ — to try to spam some magazine site on here.

Guess what! Everything is going to be moderated! Everything is going to have to be moderated! You know, I was hoping that this would be so much more work, as I’m not getting nearly enough spam in my life.

Not that I’m advocating that groups of 800 to 900 anti-spammers start taking house-to-house searches of known spam gangs in which everyone fires — oops — I mean misfires — a gun, so that there is no way to know which bullet killed that specific spammer.

No, I would never advocate that. That would be wrong. It would feel fantastic, it would better the ‘net as a whole, but it would be wrong.

Oh. Like J needs a blog to run on at the mouth…

Or the keyboard, for that matter.

But here it comes. Lock the doors and hide the children…

(Actually, the real reason I’m doing this is so that I can record and grep things I figure out, or find funny, or want to remember)

My best moment of parenting ever.

So we took G to the coast for the first time.

We packed up all we needed from the condo to go to the beach itself, and headed on down en masse.

Once we got over the boardwalk over the dunes, Grace went racing ahead of us. Way ahead of us.

Once I realized what was happening, I dropped (carefully) what I was carrying, and ran to catch up with her.

Before I caught up, a wave took her and knocked her down. Right behind it, another wave rolled her over and over. Right then, I caught up with her. She was scared, and getting ready to cry — not cry, wail. No, not wail, squall.
But I had an instant in which to recover the entire day, and the entire trip, and all coastal trips thereafter. What did I come up with? Inspiration struck:

Ocean! You’re getting a time-out!

At that instant, the undertow from both waves pulled back, going out to sea.

I was rewarded many times, first with giggles, then ongoing with her sticking nearby and behaving the rest of the day, and by her ongoing love of swimming and the ocean.

Some of my best memories with Grace are at the coast, and this is merely the first of many!