Jake, Bly, and Astroman Go To The Beach

"Lucky there aren't any dogs around to sniff us."

"My Beiber hair is getting in the way of my eyes."

"I'm having trouble breathing in this environment."

"Keep the helmet on, Astroman."

"Let's climb up this wood face."

"Look at me - I can hold on to the wood AND smile for the camera!"

"Astroman is having trouble....trouble...help Astroman hold on..."

Luke & Darth Do Father's Day

 Using the force to make his dad feel good.

(If you're viewing this via an aggregator you'll need to click directly to my blog to see the video, which is WELL worth it)

In Which I Become A Sports Figure

This is me as a LEGO sports minifigure. I took a quiz and the good people at LEGO decided what minifig I should be, based on my answers. They even asked me which superpower I wanted most. I asked for the ability to teleport. Kind of odd question considering that we're talking sports here. I don't really associate sports figures with super powers - like appearing in other places all of a sudden. Inflatable muscles, perhaps. There is obviously some cross over with the Which Sci-Fi LEGO Figure Are You? quiz (which I haven't taken yet, but I did do the Monster Quiz, oh the joys of letting an 11 year old on one's computer and then looking over their shoulder at what they're doing, now I'm obsessing over the fact that I am a LEGO witch in some alternate universe).

Anyhow, I was assigned the SuperHero Sports Figure of the - tennis player. Don't like that one. I mean, I might be grouchy on the odd occasion but I don't generally go around glaring. Plus, I never wear little white skirts and I'm quite sure my legs aren't that thick. Also, I don't have red hair. Even the kids found it bizarre ("YOU? A tennis player? That's so FUNNY"), although I think they were more curious about the idea of me actually playing tennis. On a tennis court. Guess they don't know about the teleportation super power.

But I was mollified by the killer description of my prowess in life on the tennis court, even though some people around here laughed rather rudely and immoderately.

My new mantra is thus this: "Let's face it, I AM just that good."

Nice.

Dear Mr. LEGO Executive,

At last count we had in the neighbourhood of 7 bazillion pieces of your product in our house. That's probably because I have three kids, and all three of those kids have gone through phases of liking LEGO, adoring LEGO, reading books on LEGO, begging reluctant relatives for yet more of it, building entire LEGO villages in their bedrooms, and wishing they lived in a LEGO house. (I blame James May for the last) Anyhow, their confusion between WANTS and NEEDS have resulted in our house being filled, nay, jammed with your product. So, count me in as an enthusiastic admirer and supporter of the LEGO oeuvre.

But that's not why I am writing to you. Today I am interested in addressing an article I happened across, one that stated that your company's net profits were up 36% this year. That sales of the new "Friends" line have been, to quote chief executive Joergen Vig Knudstorp, "astonishing."

Well, Mr. Knudstorp, I can tell you why your profits are up: most of your best products are TOO EXPENSIVE. Yes, I realize there are smaller, cheaper kits. We've bought a number of them. But they have a paltry piece count, often fall apart when played with, and are exceedingly small when built. The new Star Wars LEGO Advent calendar is a case in point: $10 more than the City Advent calendar yet with half the interest level. This, I dare say, is why sales of the new Friends line have been "astonishing": they contain new colours, new and rare pieces, AND they are generally priced under $30. I'm resisting saying it's only a matter of time... oh what the heck, let's just get it out there: It's only a matter of time before the Friends line goes the way of the Creator/City line and prices most of its best kits over $130.

I have to say, I'm surprised you didn't give any credit to the Minifigure series (and accompanying display cases) when you were waxing eloquent about your new bottom line. It must be raking in the bucks, given that my kids probably account for at least 1% of the sales figures in Canada. It's the one new series I heartily approve of: cheap, interesting, full of rare pieces (pies! green fish! Santa Claus! bats! trophies!).

I don't know about your relatives, Mr. Knudstorp, but mine aren't the sort who can stomach paying $80 or more for a box of coloured plastic. Convincing them of LEGO's amazingness is something we've worked hard on over the years, but in the end we're still faced with the simple and rather distressing fact that a large plastic house, no matter how wonderful or intricate or technical, costs $200. We've had years where I've managed to get a few relatives in on one gift, or bought used LEGO, or had the kids chip in over and above what I'm willing to pay for a gift, but the whole concept of having to go to such lengths to get ONE present for ONE kid without giving ME palpitations is wearing on me. For the purposes of brevity I won't mention how hard it is to buy LEGO for my kids' friends' birthday parties without resembling the titular character from a Dickens story but I dare you to try spending under $15 on LEGO without looking (or feeling) cheap.

So there you have it. I love your products. My kids love your products. We love how geeky your designers' videos are; one of us even wants to be a LEGO designer when he grows up. That same kid has six years of magazines in his memory banks and can quotes huge swathes of price, piece count, and more from them to prove it. We do not love how the Canadian LEGO magazine is always at least 20 pages lighter than its American cousin but on the other hand we love Brickjournal so much that we're willing to pay exorbitant shipping costs to get it into the wilderness that is Canada, something we're unable to do with the LEGO magazine. But you, Mr LEGO Executive, are starting to look like your bottom line is more important than your fan base. And for that I do not love you.

yours very sincerely,

Sheila

Random Happenings of the Day

 Overheard in passing:

"What do you like best about being a Toa? Do you do it for the money, the fun, or just because you like saving people's lives?"

                                                                                    — FDPG, interviewing Dominic


Found poem on my desk:

My Mum
a poem by Dominic

Her eyes are so shiny
And she's never whiny
Her hair flows down
Like a gold comet in the sun
And that's what I have to say about Mum

The Ruffle-Necked Guy With The Head

Some of us are Renaissance scholars in this house, so when some of us saw that the latest LEGO minifig collection featured a Hamlet, well, it HAD to be found. Not by the Renaissance scholar, let me point out. No, he was, as usual, oblivious to the shifting sands of Popular Culture. It remained to me to shift them his way, as usual. So I did.

Some of us had to take a few Action Shots before it could go to the office, however. We cherish our amusing moments here at Greenridge Chronicles, especially with the dark days of winter fast approaching. Which reminds me, our Renaissance scholar has ONE grain of sand from the cultural tide stuck on the tip of his tongue: We've been reminded that Winter Is Coming for the past, oh, four billion months. SUCH a wit, that man.

But that's another reference. And another story.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, err, Hogwarts Castle...

"Alas, poor Voldemort! I knew him well."


As for the title of this post? Well, that is a direct quote from a kid I shared the aisle with at our local London Drugs, as we both searched through the mini-fig box. He was looking for a man with a bowler hat. I was looking for Hamlet. "That ruffle-necked guy?" he said, "the one with the head?" "Yes," I said, "the ruffle-necked guy." "My dad says it's Shakespeare," he told me very matter of factly. "Actually," I replied, "it's a character from a play Shakespeare wrote - this guy is named Hamlet." 

"Weird name," said my friend. 

And yes, we DO stand there for close to an hour sometimes, feeling those tiny LEGO packages. The clerks are used to us by now. I pride myself on my ability to differentiate a bowler hat from the Santa hat from the girl's hair. I tell Dominic that I can tell the DJ guy's disc from the bowler-hat man's newspaper but I can't really. Just don't tell him that.
  

What We Did On The Weekend

— watched bits of the Junos (specifically the performance by Max's fave Deadmau5). It was hard not to wonder aloud what it must be like inside that mouse head of his, all that flashing and light-popping. Wondered also how Michael Buble's Christmas album won over Drake's (not Christmas) album. Yet another peculiar judging experience we've witnessed in the past month (and yes, we DID all comment on this).

— went to the beach and noticed, amid the sun and waves and wind, that dogs were distressingly ubiquitous on the landscape. I was unable to get a single dogfree photo. And all those curious doggie names: Oliver, Christopher, Jason, Angela, Olivia, Penelope, Jane.

Two words: baby substitute.

— finally cleared the brush from the front garden. Seven wheelbarrow loads of clippings, trimmings, dead stalks, and weeds. S-E-V-E-N L-O-A-D-S. Now reposing damply at the end of the yard.

— noted with dismay that someone in the LEGO contest won with 413 votes. I do not have that many friends on Facebook so my children, despite their delightfully creative designs, did not win. Mostly because I only 'friend' people I actually know. It's a quirk I have.

— watched Sherlock AND Titanic in the same evening. Titanic isn't quite as good as I'd hoped it would be, but it still has some good moments. Sherlock, while completely implausible (Irene Adler naked? Methinks this stretcheth the conceit rather bizarrely) is fun. Benedict Cumberbatch is evidently having a good time in this role.

California Dreaming

This is where I was last week. I'm going to spare you all and NOT post a shot of what it's doing where I am now.

Here's another one. I never used to like the desert...until I moved to a rainforest. Now I find a certain, um, charm in the desert. Particularly when it's winter in my neck of the rainforest.

And of course we can't forget the obligatory Legoland shot. Yes, we were here too, thanks to someone with some free tickets going begging. Some of us were VERY excited about this aspect of the trip. Very excited indeed.

The Countdown Has Officially Begun

The excitement of Christmas is progressing here - to the point that even the LEGO men are running around doing silly things. Whoever heard of skiing on wooden tabletops?

Only 5 days until Christmas! Whoo hooo!

The Hunt Is On!

The Haggis Hunt, that is. More specifically: Farquhar's Revenge. Plenty more haggi where that came from!

Eating LEGO

Our neighbours across the street put up their Christmas lights today, which prompted my kids to exclaim about our lack of Christmas lights. We have a few advent things inside: an advent candle wreath on the table, the Mary's Walk tableau on the seasonal table, a few paper toys from here (from her book, actually) scattered around the living room. No lights yet. It seems too early.

I bought the chocolate-windowed advent calendars my kids love yesterday, but only when I found them for less than $1.25 each. I toyed with the idea of buying them each LEGO City advent calendar, if only to give my kids a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime never-to-be-repeated moment to reflect back on when they're older (and I'm either dead or rotting in a home somewhere wondering if they're thinking about me) and they're reflecting (hopefully) fondly on their childhood. "Gosh," they'll think, "Mum was amazing! I loved that calendar."

Sadly for my LEGO-loving kids, I only toyed with the idea. Picture me: a (LEGO-sponsored) devil on one shoulder, whispering "$40 is nothing! Think of how excited they'll be!" while on the other shoulder a prim angel stands, arms folded, tapping one foot impatiently, saying "Ohmygawd, another idiot has lost its village, hasn't it? Sheila, my dear, those kids of yours have enough damn LEGO to sink a couple of planets. Get them each one of those cheap chocolate things and get the hell home. And stop listening to that turkey on your other shoulder. You always were a pushover."

Fortunately I listened to my well-honed guilt complex and rescued our bank account from almost certain death. Cheap chocolate it was. The twins were thrilled with theirs. Max will do what he did last year: pretend he's too cool to have an advent calendar and let it languish in a corner until Christmas morning, whereupon he will pull it out, pretending he has just remembered it, and promptly eat all the chocolates in one go while the twins watch enviously, wishing they had the willpower to do the same.

Can't do that with LEGO.

LEGO Kits We'd Like To See

Coming soon to a pretend store near you...

We saw this ghost on the LEGO website the other day and one of the LEGO-mad children here instantly decided to build his very own. Saved me $2.99 plus shipping, because most cruelly we don't live near a LEGO store in the US (if you're wondering why I make this distinction, check the prices between American items and Canadian items - it's more than a little irritating).

Oh who am I kidding, I wouldn't have bought that little ghost anyhow. I'm far too cheap, besides, isn't that what imaginations are for? (ooh Sheila you sound just like your grouchy-no-doubt-even-cheaper forebears) One of us also made a bat, but tragically only one of us had enough black bricks, leading to a flurry of Frantic and Heart-Breaking Negotiations, all to no effect: Black Brick Bearer clung grimly to his hoard.

And now, we present more in the LEGO Kits We'd Like To See vein (as per this post):

This first kit was inspired by two things: 1) the fact that one of us has the Winter Toyshop and another one of us has long coveted some of the reallyreallyrare pieces, and 2) the new Winter Bakery now in catalogues everywhere. It's enough to make one of us gnash our teeth.

CITY
Fish Shop
Item #: 3660
Ages: 5-12
Pieces: 293

For the fish-monger in your family. Tidy two story shop with clear window in front for displaying your wares. Comes with 2 non-smelly fish and 1 very smelly fish vendor minifigure.


CITY
Treasure Hunter's Craft
Item#: 3978
Ages: 5-12
Pieces: 130

Spend the morning hunting for underwater treasure in this sleek, flat bottomed boat then spend the afternoon swimming, knowing that your treasure is secured in these state-of-the-art chests. What better way to wile away your summer days? Comes with 1 minifigure (with swim kit), 2 blue crystals, and 6 green crystals.

CITY
Retro Trailer Camper
Item#: 3164
Ages:5-12
Pieces: 360

Lounge around the campfire and look tres cool whilst doing so! This little unit comes complete with propane tank, water hookups & sunroof. Inside are bunks for 3 and a tidy little cooking area. Comes with minifigure & latte mug.

CITY
Custom Camper Van
Item#:3119
Ages:5-12
Pieces: 405

Fred here is just giving the windscreen a touchup, but otherwise this little van is in perfect nick. Sleeps 5 and has the most amazing cooking set-up you've ever seen: converts to a catering van when you need a little ready cash.

CITY
Golf Cart
Item#:3190
Ages:5-12
Pieces: 68

For the golf enthusiast in your family. This is a minimalist golf cart: fewer extras means more room for your friends and all your clubs. Seats 30 and more if you sit on each other's laps.


STAR WARS
Droid Execution Fighter Jet
Item#: 8009
Ages: 5-12
Pieces: 353

Two views for this impressive little piece of engineering! First we have her as she flies: quick as lightning, thrusters armed, and ready to blast those pesky droids into smithereens.


Then flip a switch and your ship is in landing mode: thrusters and phasers lowered for quick replacement, but we don't think you'll be doing much replacing of anything - this baby is made for speed. Nothing will catch you!