I would have photographed George Washington's dentures, but ...

Actually, I probably wouldn't even have thought about it if it weren't for this sign.
We went to Mount Vernon a couple of Saturdays ago. Other than the general's dentures, we saw the mansion, some of the outbuildings, and part of the farm. The view of the Potomac is lovely, and it's obvious why the Washingtons liked it so much.

Fifth time's the charm at the Virginia DMV

As mentioned previously, we shipped our Jeep Liberty back from Trinidad. It was delivered to us Aug. 20. We haven't, however, been able to drive it because it doesn't have license plates. Well, other than the Trini ones, which aren't like U.S. plates. The process of getting new plates has been an exercise in ... well, something.
DMV visit 1: Kevin went to the DMV office in Falls Church. It's what they call a Select location, which means they only can do certain transactions. Apparently registering an out-of-state vehicle isn't one of those. We did find out we needed the original title, though, so we had to have USAA send it. That took a few days.
DMV visit 2: I went to the office in Tyson's Corner, where we'd had the title sent. The title had arrived. I didn't, however, have Kevin with me, and because the car's in both of our names, he needed to be there -- or I needed a copy of his driver's license. I had many, many pieces of paper with me, but not that.
DMV visit 3: We went on Saturday so we both could be there. The office opens at 8 a.m. We arrived at 8:22. The line was about four hours long. We have better ways to spend a Saturday.
DMV visit 4: I returned with not just a copy of Kevin's license but the original. It was oh-so-close, but at the last minute the woman wanted proof we'd paid sales tax on the car when we registered it the first time. Yeah, we have that proof somewhere, but it was in 2007 in Colorado, so it's not like I've been carrying it around with me. I politely declined to pay the $834 she requested, and she politely declined to give me the license plates she'd been entering into the system just seconds before.
DMV visit 5: Yesterday I rented a car for the sole purpose of finally getting it all resolved. (Rental cars driven on previous trips were rented for such trivial things as going to church, grocery shopping, doctor's appointments, etc.) I carried not only proof of our having paid sales tax in 2007 -- Kevin had called the dealership we used in Denver and had the papers faxed to us -- but:
Both of our driver's licenses
My Social Security card
Both of our tourist passports (sometimes people who don't deal with diplomatic passports doubt they're real)
Proof of insurance
Customs forms from the State Department
Proof of our Virginia address (a copy of our lease from Oakwood)
It was that last one that caused a problem this time. No, it never had been called into question before. But the woman beside the one helping me -- imagine Marge's evil sisters' work at the DMV on The Simpsons -- said if it was up to her that it wouldn't be accepted. I think a conversation with a supervisor must have taken place because no one ever said anything to me directly about it not being good enough.
So now, I have Virginia license plates valid for 30 days. We still have to have an emissions test (and who knows what else). But at least the vehicle I've started referring to as The Albatross can be driven again.

A step closer to Italy

On Sept. 8 -- it seems like so long ago -- Kevin began learning Italian. He'll be in Italian classes with various instructors for six or seven months before training to be a General Services Officer (GSO). That's the person at an embassy or consulate who overseas housing, maintenance on buildings, the motor pool, etc.
On the same day, Laura started third grade. She's lucky enough to be in the same class as her friend Daisy, whose family we've been friends with since A-100 and who just got back from Costa Rica.
The first-day-of-school outfit has become her favorite. It represents a milestone of sorts because the pants are her first size 10s. (I haven't been able to determine whether she's grown that much or whether Children's Place sizes their corduroys oddly.)

Owen launches his newspaper career

He's a big fan of the Washington Post.

"I thought that sounded like something cute!"

Yesterday I went to the post office in downtown Falls Church to check our post office box. (For information on why we have a post office box, imagine having to change your mailing address three or four times over the course of a couple of months.) I was carrying Owen in his car seat carrier -- a feat in itself considering that Owen by himself probably weighs 18 pounds -- and as I got up to leave (I have to kneel down to get to the box), he made a whining sort of noise.
A woman walking by, when she saw the carrier, said, "I thought that sounded like something cute!"
I said thanks, of course, but somehow it doesn't seem so cute when it's killing your back and most of your major joints.

On misused apostrophes and random capitalization

So most people figured out the it's in the that last photo should be its. And it also was pointed out that mother doesn't need to be capitalized. I could write a book about unnecessary capitalizations, but I'll spare you. I will, however, share a somewhat funny story.
When I worked at the Daily Universe -- BYU's campus newspaper -- there were a couple of times the administration, specifically President Rex E. Lee, wanted things to run in the newspaper. And they got their way. Word for word. Capital for capital.
And we're talking about a lot of capitals. I wish I had kept some examples. The only explanation we ever could come up with was "capitalized because it's a legal term."
So people should be aware that I mock them not only when they misuse apostrophes but also when they capitalize random words. And spell things wrong. And ... well, you get the idea.

Once a copy editor, always a copy editor

This framed item on the wall of the room we stayed in at my in-laws' house while on home leave taunted me the entire time. Kudos to the first nonprofessional copy editor who can tell me what's wrong with it. (Click on the photo if you need a larger view.)

More dangers of having a big sister