tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76302268205995197412024-03-07T01:43:16.408-06:00Stuff In My BrainDad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.comBlogger319125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-202796588699300082011-11-03T06:49:00.002-06:002011-11-03T06:49:00.537-06:00Return of the Pumpkin Round-Up<div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Sadly, another Halloween has come and gone. Lady Di and I have snuck as much candy as we're going to get from the kids. They have hidden their stash in their rooms from us. I'm trying to teach Ruby the art of tracking. So far, she is no bloodhound.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Anyway, it's time for our annual Pumpkin Round-Up. This is where I force you to look through all my Halloween pictures whether you like it or not. This is the fifth year of Pumpkin Round-Up. If you would like to see previous year's pumpkins, go ahead and click <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/11/halloween-pumpkin-roundup.html"><span style="color:#ff6600;">here</span></a>, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/11/wednesday-pumpkin-roundup.html"><span style="color:#006600;">here</span></a>, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2009/11/dead-mans-party.html"><span style="color:#cc0000;">here</span></a>, or <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2010/11/halloween-hangover.html"><span style="color:#330033;">here</span></a>. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Now, on to business. Let's start with Number One Son's Gourd's of Creativity.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1ECQnArxs221K3mvWWryBkdVoaafQryTVmuu5U2MFcYFFb_7Sc-p9Z6xfTuomjcB9dQRT9fxBBGqXoE850aFXoAe6aA5d0iK6e2NlhZD43JhiBCjfyiL0Etb5zZ7BQPpMF4oHfi-lvjF/s1600/Halloween2011+003.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670203347866487554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1ECQnArxs221K3mvWWryBkdVoaafQryTVmuu5U2MFcYFFb_7Sc-p9Z6xfTuomjcB9dQRT9fxBBGqXoE850aFXoAe6aA5d0iK6e2NlhZD43JhiBCjfyiL0Etb5zZ7BQPpMF4oHfi-lvjF/s320/Halloween2011+003.jpg" /></a></span></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">It's pumpkins season and it's football season. N1S saved time by combining them.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">His next pumpkin requires technical cleverness to figure out.</span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7dM0HVk8CCMwzb0U2aIg2tCYbsBM1S_Q869AmFc6mCGtkPdu20Go-F_FLGSU56YyMqhKgb8PLUxFY0qtp7F7QxW1Ax-GLgl8yUi-DsgIEjXalFkbKGFqFpATGRMk7RlxK6L8UdRhZLomC/s1600/Halloween2011+002.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670203343915730690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7dM0HVk8CCMwzb0U2aIg2tCYbsBM1S_Q869AmFc6mCGtkPdu20Go-F_FLGSU56YyMqhKgb8PLUxFY0qtp7F7QxW1Ax-GLgl8yUi-DsgIEjXalFkbKGFqFpATGRMk7RlxK6L8UdRhZLomC/s320/Halloween2011+002.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div>This is a smiling jack-o-lantern but it's not just a sideways face. Can you figure out the riddle? The answer is at the end of this post if you dare to continue!</div><br /><br /><div>Next in line are from Sweet Pea's gruesome collection. SP has been carving her own pumpkins for three years now and each year she creates a vomiting pumpkin.<br /></div></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYWowAK9NkhvzLO99UuBlJ1M2zfkHE8ixWpJU2T8QOONBNlE_b0CpZVQYbi6rEUig9pOy7UVFCiyVvQaMcil5-hPhvUwwQhk8ge9g9oL3VZyMlbAB7aZArhYiOu8jTbCV3w3Hh2fbVF1w/s1600/pumpkin2011+037.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670204445018474002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYWowAK9NkhvzLO99UuBlJ1M2zfkHE8ixWpJU2T8QOONBNlE_b0CpZVQYbi6rEUig9pOy7UVFCiyVvQaMcil5-hPhvUwwQhk8ge9g9oL3VZyMlbAB7aZArhYiOu8jTbCV3w3Hh2fbVF1w/s320/pumpkin2011+037.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Although, this one I believe just has a bad sinus infection. His friend is a skull but Lady Di and I thought it looked cute with a squash hat.</span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgFYemL1yTd27sv4DHVtBhh-i70Zgqe_jMVOSVVupNXDf0c8B4oP9OOFKClPUJwICqP2UzAt9hTn5LUlScYmt1wAEOrKJkFWGmmbBxBAH7_yBAJv1PlMH9WgM6i9CSKRVQqQEL9Vqz_hI/s1600/pumpkin2011+035.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670204437489327730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZgFYemL1yTd27sv4DHVtBhh-i70Zgqe_jMVOSVVupNXDf0c8B4oP9OOFKClPUJwICqP2UzAt9hTn5LUlScYmt1wAEOrKJkFWGmmbBxBAH7_yBAJv1PlMH9WgM6i9CSKRVQqQEL9Vqz_hI/s320/pumpkin2011+035.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div>This one is a self portrait of SP. If you scroll down the right side of the blog you will see a picture resembling this. By the way, that candle skull lights up and was home made.</div><br /><br /><div>The next group of pumpkins were carved by yours truly.<br /></span><br /></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCiDDBWZEsYwhGkgD7Vh_1fckYSfFISaBZIgRq49GrAjpNYTNJb8yU36Ljz9ya5LRHL5mxtfKIMT0bicFNCDHu-1qFP6l0GFxTUMIFMmZZRK-oMfhKAc8M8HMuSYWrcRId-04g8CRNVncu/s1600/pumpkin2011+036.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670204441658007314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCiDDBWZEsYwhGkgD7Vh_1fckYSfFISaBZIgRq49GrAjpNYTNJb8yU36Ljz9ya5LRHL5mxtfKIMT0bicFNCDHu-1qFP6l0GFxTUMIFMmZZRK-oMfhKAc8M8HMuSYWrcRId-04g8CRNVncu/s320/pumpkin2011+036.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I just couldn't pass up this warty lumpy orb. SP suggested that the bulbous bump should be made into an eye. So this is my mismatched eye pumpkin. And also my little squash buddy.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I call the next jack-o-lantern my Charlie Brown. I had a little trouble with the knife.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OmyuAUN7T06-FNRHxlbk7h9sGURAnSaDrks4EcC4uSdv6NAellVmMiFuaaaeUComUNL1cm-0xdI3e7Kw7EEf6h2GPlhRL6O6B615B6787C5PqCCmxbDJuCKMT8LPMy60oO2lbFsAAwej/s1600/pumpkin2011+033.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670203361881819426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OmyuAUN7T06-FNRHxlbk7h9sGURAnSaDrks4EcC4uSdv6NAellVmMiFuaaaeUComUNL1cm-0xdI3e7Kw7EEf6h2GPlhRL6O6B615B6787C5PqCCmxbDJuCKMT8LPMy60oO2lbFsAAwej/s320/pumpkin2011+033.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div>My last pumpkin is my favorite. It's carved in the style of The Nightmare Before Christmas and it is lighted with a green Christmas bulb.</div></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3D5byEJQrSzsAVcO1QFiM2hxjta2pqJMZTyB6DvLtxG0-93dUgH5C4NrRXP1rDyLfmpYtVU4gNUDV5Rt9VMujCaI-x4OxdRxQPL-Yd64ZtD0eGmXeRM0nWzeUX8VIpXN63JBy-6nLCBM/s1600/Halloween2011+001.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670234690662931218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3D5byEJQrSzsAVcO1QFiM2hxjta2pqJMZTyB6DvLtxG0-93dUgH5C4NrRXP1rDyLfmpYtVU4gNUDV5Rt9VMujCaI-x4OxdRxQPL-Yd64ZtD0eGmXeRM0nWzeUX8VIpXN63JBy-6nLCBM/s320/Halloween2011+001.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">And the best, I must confess, I have saved for the last. Lady Di's pirate pumpkin complete with silver tooth.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVAdBpS9NfSHN72euCWZZ35G0nbNNQuE7ZjmqxtufqA0T6bBZRifTNFHDWEtVos6c9wZdQoJhApIkAQ5GEYjRNAUaqqutm0xLoxnfIYicOZxiQig3W7SfYetma_2bghhpunAIalBp-hjC/s1600/pumpkin2011+043.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670204458290274530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjVAdBpS9NfSHN72euCWZZ35G0nbNNQuE7ZjmqxtufqA0T6bBZRifTNFHDWEtVos6c9wZdQoJhApIkAQ5GEYjRNAUaqqutm0xLoxnfIYicOZxiQig3W7SfYetma_2bghhpunAIalBp-hjC/s320/pumpkin2011+043.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Eventually, I ran out of pumpkins and looked around the garage for something else to carve. We had two acorn squash that I carved into lanterns that we hung from two planters on the porch. The picture isn't too good but they really glowed with the porch lights off.</span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpPF3QFHGtNgLtmqFKuWAiq74dNdncAUYBTC6ToRaqYmMOPfLNWsFTDA5Ku1qSPZKLSP7V71yqgEF9fVv2taorfBdc_NhElOQHo8xg2tBQo2APgzKUX9ZuWPe4mACvd1t7ltk2U8SDvob/s1600/Halloween2011+021.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670203354689351906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpPF3QFHGtNgLtmqFKuWAiq74dNdncAUYBTC6ToRaqYmMOPfLNWsFTDA5Ku1qSPZKLSP7V71yqgEF9fVv2taorfBdc_NhElOQHo8xg2tBQo2APgzKUX9ZuWPe4mACvd1t7ltk2U8SDvob/s320/Halloween2011+021.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The jack-o-lanterns set the stage for a festive Halloween night. </div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0o9lgX_BU-FSBZJVS6pYwnayyYuKWuTXQ1y85fWpGTEGV1MMdMdSL4Et_WHbFqrsSrCjQPI0oz4Yg6OIIST53z4SNsTZjsCDQk-rAb3FRFhl5gGFDwybxjSQwvO8lqAiRNc7RLWIEVMK/s1600/Halloween2011+010.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670205769359790898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0o9lgX_BU-FSBZJVS6pYwnayyYuKWuTXQ1y85fWpGTEGV1MMdMdSL4Et_WHbFqrsSrCjQPI0oz4Yg6OIIST53z4SNsTZjsCDQk-rAb3FRFhl5gGFDwybxjSQwvO8lqAiRNc7RLWIEVMK/s320/Halloween2011+010.jpg" /></a></span></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">SP dressed as a Titanic victim. I think she hoped that people would feel sorry for her and give her more candy.</span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrQv8KrnaX39oCmIkXrEbgTCrym7LdxkQPw5Z9v9lfredHlkymIRgF3RCSct7fhowQHlxiHxD7ZeRyZIJmY2x1pYhGhjs5-Oqo7Vrm4KuZdZNKK4pPk_b8Cb5uGJQPg1oe6tWnJrdLxTJ/s1600/Halloween2011+013.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670205771374206402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrQv8KrnaX39oCmIkXrEbgTCrym7LdxkQPw5Z9v9lfredHlkymIRgF3RCSct7fhowQHlxiHxD7ZeRyZIJmY2x1pYhGhjs5-Oqo7Vrm4KuZdZNKK4pPk_b8Cb5uGJQPg1oe6tWnJrdLxTJ/s320/Halloween2011+013.jpg" /></a></span></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">And N1S was Darth Vader. He also made a sign that said "Please donate candy to build new Death Star". He said he got an extra candy bar from one home and another home jeered him. Must have been a Jedi home.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwmkHRriqGGpKXAwOqVcoLf3wvZMOlG2HlFTSKu0QTx22sBa7LPQaeYagxdQlaH80I8YraL7ckm4VypU7NpPicDsW8YkwgqvXSz7Rb3lh77c-ctbqPS7vZpVMiBULxCMge6OO2QM3Yhm4/s1600/pumpkin2011+029.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670205794245715602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwmkHRriqGGpKXAwOqVcoLf3wvZMOlG2HlFTSKu0QTx22sBa7LPQaeYagxdQlaH80I8YraL7ckm4VypU7NpPicDsW8YkwgqvXSz7Rb3lh77c-ctbqPS7vZpVMiBULxCMge6OO2QM3Yhm4/s320/pumpkin2011+029.jpg" /></span></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This is the Invisible Man holding his invisible bowl of candy.<br />Well, did you solve N1S's jack-o-lantern riddle? The answer lies on your keyboard just under your right pinky finger and just above the zero key. :) LOL<br /><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-36409527561973727942011-10-19T17:12:00.001-06:002011-10-19T19:46:55.690-06:00It's Not Halloween Yet<span style="font-size:130%;">Sorry it's been so long between posts but it is October after all. And everyone knows October first always marks the start of Halloween decorating season. The beginning of the month started with temperatures in the 80's. That was just too hot. I got the ghoulish gear out of the attic but had to wait for more seasonal weather to start transforming the yard.<br />Then, overnight, our temps dropped to 40's and 50's. Now I was ready. Unfortunately, Mother Nature still wanted to challenge me. As soon as the temps got to the 50's, the wind increased to the 50's too. At least it felt like 50mph. So now my orange lights are tangled and falling off the trees. Styrofoam tombstones are threatening to blow away.<br />I've got one more week to stake, hang and plug in before All Hallow's Eve. If the wind doesn't take everything away before then, I'll post some pictures.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Meanwhile, our new puppy Ruby has been helping around the house as well. She is now seven months old and is really excited for Halloween. Honestly, she is really excited for everything. She likes to chew her toys. She likes to chase balls. She especially likes to be chased. Which is why she is still on a leash when outside. She got away from us outside a few times which resulted in a chase three neighbors over. She has trained us to get the treat bag and kneel in the grass until she decides to stop running circles around us and get her treat.<br />She answers to her name. She just doesn't answer to 'come'. She has also obtained many names which may be confusing her.<br />Along with the name Ruby, she has also heard the names,<br />Ruby Duby<br />Ruby Doobs<br />Rubes<br />Ruby Dooby Doo<br />Ruby Tuesday<br />Ruby Begonia (That's from Grampa Gary)<br />Ruby Poo<br />Ruby Boo<br />And any other cutsie bootsie name that rhymes with ooby you can think of.<br />In addition to playing with her toys, she also likes to play games with us.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JP9eEdvkD9ObupUUWAjKZQlXUMNosj40JYeZ2o5oLo0QF28DUzyTj1ltG1xDjMVJRZuVsct7luejzVD-9hdrDaLcJdjZerJlXxGx8w8VuqqROsR9gC2CCdJILFzEdnqs-ZlFHCOvD5TU/s1600/salvator+012.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JP9eEdvkD9ObupUUWAjKZQlXUMNosj40JYeZ2o5oLo0QF28DUzyTj1ltG1xDjMVJRZuVsct7luejzVD-9hdrDaLcJdjZerJlXxGx8w8VuqqROsR9gC2CCdJILFzEdnqs-ZlFHCOvD5TU/s320/salvator+012.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></span></a></p><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRnk_NviagjMg4Yc5G-WBehaKbfg8YJEFiarZbpLVFTzeUC6MBemMbhyDlOJ5QvWHZXW_2BXWLZ7WZtF8565i8em41U9Loj8-mE9pJDvh32sN2LxY4RJ_kt1TL7mwVD91LsyWEh98Oxi5/s1600/salvator+015.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRnk_NviagjMg4Yc5G-WBehaKbfg8YJEFiarZbpLVFTzeUC6MBemMbhyDlOJ5QvWHZXW_2BXWLZ7WZtF8565i8em41U9Loj8-mE9pJDvh32sN2LxY4RJ_kt1TL7mwVD91LsyWEh98Oxi5/s320/salvator+015.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></span></a></p><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRFBjQP9qvq1dq27AdGL4lUKSVnd9qfbxzxFbky9xFhV5rqzVTr6wiYBvMERQuifWPnuWx1Zmi4k6Y6uguMbAfV6_4hrxhYjBM6pieyOY4bkGxORZrGnfAgIdnB3PcMhcUBs_0-jnthYZ/s1600/salvator+016.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRFBjQP9qvq1dq27AdGL4lUKSVnd9qfbxzxFbky9xFhV5rqzVTr6wiYBvMERQuifWPnuWx1Zmi4k6Y6uguMbAfV6_4hrxhYjBM6pieyOY4bkGxORZrGnfAgIdnB3PcMhcUBs_0-jnthYZ/s320/salvator+016.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></span></a></p><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">When she isn't playing or playing games with us, she likes to hang out under the couch. She will scooch her puppy butt underneath and peek out with her little black eyes.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwP_2H8xany5rLmEhVKXS4c1FcoTSiHRtnka_UmzGFRCSuptvrVqa0HTfQxkRMbbFoj-YawaHt3GM2RL1QzRnvOwaBbgk9etrbIjJ0temScOhoS-xhKMk3BLOxAWiGYJ2Dq8AkqB9sRec/s1600/bemidji+show+choir+003.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwP_2H8xany5rLmEhVKXS4c1FcoTSiHRtnka_UmzGFRCSuptvrVqa0HTfQxkRMbbFoj-YawaHt3GM2RL1QzRnvOwaBbgk9etrbIjJ0temScOhoS-xhKMk3BLOxAWiGYJ2Dq8AkqB9sRec/s320/bemidji+show+choir+003.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></a></span></p><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">She also likes to torment her cousin Rosie by taking her toys and then jumping on her face.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So far Ruby is working out to be a pretty good puppy. We often compare her unfairly to our previous puppy, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2011/02/our-fifteen-year-journey.html"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Liberty</span></a>. I'm not sure if she will ever measure up to Liberty. Liberty set the bar pretty high. Although, I think our memory of Liberty's first few years are a little fuzzy when it comes to her puppy naughtiness. We tend to compare Ruby now to Liberty when she was ten years old or so. When we could let Liberty run around the yard and not worry about her coming back or getting into something she shouldn't.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AqorGFc-jqwbM44eLaVtNCJm6gbvdaFZnD0LMMa4pb7GLRPNUt3stoGDNkZJDPXEKRBOKy4f7UYup4xMR2_MldjOodwZMZAwyY2B9b17s_H3GS4T-S2PFQAyzp1R0g012bTei_ebZhMy/s1600/salvator+003.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AqorGFc-jqwbM44eLaVtNCJm6gbvdaFZnD0LMMa4pb7GLRPNUt3stoGDNkZJDPXEKRBOKy4f7UYup4xMR2_MldjOodwZMZAwyY2B9b17s_H3GS4T-S2PFQAyzp1R0g012bTei_ebZhMy/s320/salvator+003.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></a></span></p><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">One thing Ruby does that is reminiscent of Liberty is her napping. For some reason, Ruby at seven months, will actually take multiple naps throughout the day. I don't think Liberty left us alone for a minute her first few years.<br />So, I guess, Ruby isn't too bad after all. We can probably be patient enough to see how she turns out in the next fifteen years or so.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"><a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoIm7UNiLsdRZf-9FHeHOBLlGLeXyrikgAHPZ47QQoygiN1HEUPVP1_vG5CELL5zChhCCdoKfi71t6cD2eSSzC8u8LWCkhJbxjz1xaGboQLNs_26Z3n8RLPz8XdTdc0_CF-lLQHJZ_fdF/s1600/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+009.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoIm7UNiLsdRZf-9FHeHOBLlGLeXyrikgAHPZ47QQoygiN1HEUPVP1_vG5CELL5zChhCCdoKfi71t6cD2eSSzC8u8LWCkhJbxjz1xaGboQLNs_26Z3n8RLPz8XdTdc0_CF-lLQHJZ_fdF/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+009.jpg" width="320" height="240" oda="true" /></a></div>In case you're wondering, yes we still have two kids. Just because I don't mention them in <em>every</em> post, doesn't mean they aren't doing something interesting too. Once I find where they are I'll ask them what they have been up to.<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"></span></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-73705043495031896762011-09-11T08:35:00.004-06:002011-09-11T08:35:00.880-06:00A Day to Remember<span style="font-size:130%;">Anniversaries are often times of celebration. They often involve getting together with friends or relatives that you haven't seen in a while to reconnect, catch up and enjoy each other's company. But anniversaries' primary purpose is to mark a significant event for remembrance.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Today marks one such significant event. There will probably be gatherings of family and friends. They will probably share stories of this day ten years ago. Stories of where you were when you heard the news. The only celebrating will be celebrating the memories of the life of a loved one lost.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">But it all comes back to the primary purpose of an anniversary. To remember. To remember the ones who lost their lives. To remember the sacrifices made by the police and firefighters of New York. To remember the families and friends affected by the needless loss of life. To remember the reason why sacrifices are made. It's not easy keeping a country free. The freedoms we enjoy come at a price. Unfortunately, some people end up paying more than their fair share. We should not take our freedoms for granted. While we are remembering this tragedy from a decade ago, we should also remember to thank a vet, an active military member, firefighter, police officer or anyone else responsible for our safety.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Last year SP's and N1S's seventh grade cousin from Fargo entered a school contest to design something that honored the memory of all who sacrificed on September, 11th 2001. She came up with two pictures symbolizing what that date meant to her. The contest judges were so impressed that she not only won the contest, but her school decided to print her designs onto t-shirts to sell with all of the proceeds going to a veteran's organization in Fargo.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">SP and N1s each have a shirt that they wear on most patriotic holidays. This year they wore their shirts to school on the Friday before September 11th.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH563_wsmucbV32Co27NgKuUxTiZg5aje_JEWaaT11nS8bd96wZDLRWaP1q4laIEbnhvos9w8EIHgi5-Nss7_0YyI4Ul-i_PtsgiCNlV4-gYMGUql666U847ey005c2TIFANzI1A-bT6Xv/s1600/100_7144.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650934725519050130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH563_wsmucbV32Co27NgKuUxTiZg5aje_JEWaaT11nS8bd96wZDLRWaP1q4laIEbnhvos9w8EIHgi5-Nss7_0YyI4Ul-i_PtsgiCNlV4-gYMGUql666U847ey005c2TIFANzI1A-bT6Xv/s320/100_7144.JPG" /></a></p><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Here, SP models her shirt. You can click on the picture to better see the detail that her cousin put into her design.</span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLTmpAHMk67NqF-ggroEAbyfU9lapv41Ktq6w2985dHakyVEGPFMEYhjPmFuySw2qDxPdrZKL0_OQiINm-SO3hmGaxPEVLTdOo1z8uinX5TCO5rakW1BY6PrcpB23JntQw6n_YMqu-6zI/s1600/100_7145.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650935411900331554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLTmpAHMk67NqF-ggroEAbyfU9lapv41Ktq6w2985dHakyVEGPFMEYhjPmFuySw2qDxPdrZKL0_OQiINm-SO3hmGaxPEVLTdOo1z8uinX5TCO5rakW1BY6PrcpB23JntQw6n_YMqu-6zI/s320/100_7145.JPG" /></a></p><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This is the back of the shirt. She incorporated the airplane numbers and the pentagon into her second design. The logo reads, "How Soon We Forget".</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Many times we get caught up with what is wrong with the country. We need to balance that with what is right with the country too. Our country and the people in it are doing things every day to be proud of. Big things. Small things. They all count.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmlafWNDPnRpaAbAntEvDEJ_N0FG7bqvEQUmdrtIatbBqSGToyGxssTZyGq87KAgFpTf-qxNzl5j278ztrwByd6RHpvbge5iv_wyGj2XNxuonhjfozJFO3TjSZHxT2YijxwNZNS4vjBXr/s1600/100_7147.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650936575221731634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmlafWNDPnRpaAbAntEvDEJ_N0FG7bqvEQUmdrtIatbBqSGToyGxssTZyGq87KAgFpTf-qxNzl5j278ztrwByd6RHpvbge5iv_wyGj2XNxuonhjfozJFO3TjSZHxT2YijxwNZNS4vjBXr/s320/100_7147.JPG" /></a></p></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><div></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Take pride in your country. Appreciate what has been done for you. Return the favor.<br /></span></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-1204935701028050142011-09-04T10:00:00.002-06:002011-09-04T10:00:05.042-06:00The Last of the Summer Fun<span style="font-size:130%;">We are getting dangerously close to the beginning of September and the start of the school year. Once again we packed our lives in the pickup and headed northeast to Bayfield, WI to tent camp for four days. This is our <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2009/09/island-awaits.html"><span style="color:#000099;">third year</span> </a>in a row of <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2010/09/remember-when-slide-shows-involved.html"><span style="color:#009900;">camping </span></a>here with our good friends who haven't yet packed up their gear midweek and changed campsites.</span>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We had near perfect weather for the third year in a row also. Hot during the day and cool at night. The animals liked the cool night too because we were visited by many. The first night there was the noisiest night we have ever had to sleep through. The raccoons made not one but three separate passes through our campsite looking for food. In between raccoon raids, two White Owls were hooting back and forth like an Owl Idol competition. Then just as things quieted down for a whole fifteen minutes, and my eyes started to close, a pack of coyotes started to howl and yip. All these noises of nature would have been kind of pretty to listen too if it weren't for the thin piece of nylon tent being the only protection between my head and sharp teeth.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Perhaps the animals were drawn to our tent by our festive string of battery operated blue tent lights. Actually, they are Christmas lights but we didn't tell the raccoons that.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647602449128269346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Y79K2weBKl6E9Z5rGI7B02uxNKO7_B7eGHZeaM2GbhTLwOI_UC9xP-dIbDEwq6Lo0Zknu60RnW4Lb-ZiXGePg61o3_6z1_c57u3v9MJNd_fcNw0gU8pIr22MBR9rHJOk3m2DiNgzcZi0/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+042.jpg" /></span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The second night we found out that duct tape doesn't hold lights on nylon very well. So the festive lights only lasted one night. Surprisingly, there were also no more nights of howling coyotes. Hmmm.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647603685240328978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibann5_HkeDgkDf8yods6ZGo7tKZ59m74VquadkfmavdGBRxU43470o2asuFHFeJ2CoXosJ6ws98I4-BCeemH2A0ckKax_uEbl_6lkurD3SSbuIzbjgbqPoHTC6hNeaNxwMWkkjKHjykW4/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+059.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">The weather was so nice this mermaid washed up on shore one of the days.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647604556565821922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkAd6-T2oI8BQx4Y8w9YkjVbgLh-gcWabXrmtBykDRTPVq_3ol51Js3XzUACWeQqvHlfbXxHNvDvWQksZ36302tGBcENBnfH6GysWDPN9Ag65fs_r3_Y0uF-vKBxVGQfg3jlO5c4eCWtVm/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+066.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Our friends also rented a paddle board for the day. I don't think the kids did much paddling though. Instead, they used the board for a lot of falling in the water.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Later in the afternoon, we spotted some teenagers climbing all over a fifteen foot long log which had floated into the bay. They were about a hundred yards out. When the teens got tired and abandoned their find, Lady Di and her friend Kerry decided that they wanted that log. So they both jumped into the kayak that we had rented for the day and paddled out to get it. It took them about ten minutes to get to the log and about 50 minutes to tow it to shore. It was big and waterlogged and heavy. When they were within 20 yards of shore, a young swimmer told his dad, "Hey, I want to play on the log!" His dad, who had been watching LD and Kerry the whole time said, "For as much work as those two have gone through for that old log, I don't think they want to give it up so easily."</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">But it was <em>so</em> worth it. As soon as the log arrived, everyone from our two families immediately wanted to get on it and float. The boys even tried to pull it back out to sea but soon realized that they didn't want to invest 50+ minutes in the endeavor. Who would have thought that a big old log would be the hit of the beach?</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647606982942784578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnku1XQdSx71J-5SeCzF0GjOWP-OdR1utZp25xBMDjFPjc3bsJOFN2tGWxqHwIV1tGT9R4IvRu4xmp2BqpNSxHtpwQlQeXjfrEmCDodx4wF3cC28CKdlmNTKS2a13y-jRwyB_xgtaRvOs/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+103.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">The log is half submerged in this picture. It was also so slippery that a picture with all four kids actually standing on it was rare.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Since we usually camp the last week of August, it usually falls on Number One Son's birthday.</span>
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<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647608018218988594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zAEiGyVIO6klQiZTWhvgspuasrPJdLxKt6PrtZKwUu0ocCV0ggoufCQHBPUqnz0nfPl6n58k8XlhCQ-38ixy8I0L05aGaBi64KidUwYDxrk2XoAb5XAxIJS2snWO8nXVsm4fldlzMecV/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+053.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here he is blowing out his birthday citronella candle surrounded by cupcakes. That orange ball on the table is our homemade ice cream maker. There is a metal cylinder inside the ball which holds the cream and vanilla. Ice and salt go inside the outer area of the ball to cool the cream. Once each section is filled with appropriate ingredients, it's up to the kids to play soccer with the ball to mix it into ice cream. It was a delicious <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2011/08/smells-like-teen-spirit.html"><span style="color:#ff6600;">thirteenth birthday</span> </a>party.</span></p>
<br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">So that puts a cap to our summer of 2011. Now we can look forward to school starting in a couple of days. How will we ever get the kids to go to bed without White Owls lullabying them to sleep?</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648338510234321106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjET349chs-A55HSE9stfE3MpOxN5ii_joFDj1LWTnjRHmVyaAmyJ0X_VUBBlmE1chPhTeOFIooVcpScd4gMBmfu4xPcW5HhmKaYJ6Lb1lGK1yzpLSWBEVbBvJpzbSMhGZUBwloExDXzpEq/s320/Madeline+2011%252CEthan+13+038.jpg" />
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<br />Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-37599523255235026482011-08-25T07:00:00.002-06:002011-08-25T07:00:06.205-06:00Smells Like Teen Spirit<span style="font-size:130%;">The big news around our place is that Lady Di and I are now the proud owners of a brand spankin' new teenager. As of 12:01 am Number One Son has now matured to 13 years. Even though we just drove him off the lot, he already has that teenage boy smell. We do have a sample can of Axe Body Spray that we hang around his neck to freshen him up a bit. In addition to the Axe we also picked up a basket of maintenance items to keep our teen looking new. We stocked up on soap,acne cream, deodorant, soap, three different sizes of shoes, ear plugs (for us) and soap.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">He has been bugging us for a cell phone for a couple of years, so now that he has reached the responsible age of 13, we decided to implant a GPS microchip in his arm instead to know where he is at all times.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We also have pre-emptively removed his bedroom door to avoid the inevitable slamming.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We've taken out a second mortgage to expand our pantry to make room for the industrial sized cans of food needed to keep both of his hollow legs full.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We are also trying to prepare for the inevitable interest in girls. So far he still kids around with us when we mention the fair sex but we know that he is probably just showing disinterest to throw us parents off his trail. And I'm not talking about the trail of week old underwear snaking around his room.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Communicating with girls is a mine field for any teenage boy, but when you have <a href="http://www.aspergers.com/"><span style="color:#663300;">Asperger's</span></a> like N1S, it's like navigating that same mine field blindfolded, at a rock concert, wearing snow shoes. So I have put together a few sure fire opening lines to get him in the door.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Lines like, <span style="color:#ff0000;">"You must be from Memphis because you're the only Ten-I-See."</span> Or, <span style="color:#000099;">"I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?"</span> Or, <span style="color:#ff6600;">" I don't have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And the never failing, <span style="color:#33cc00;">"How you doin'?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I'm sure these lines will do nothing but help N1S on his way to ladies-manness. They worked like a charm for me 15 & 1/2 years ago on Lady Di when I said, <span style="color:#6600cc;">"Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is a short video of N1S's show choir performing the song '13'.</span><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxN4AGGEyN05F1OveJkOcHgG_Rn7dO-Q1WN5ybZPCENjud6eG0NsWbfTmnojbyB68_ZCVXWRBj_ozKSUpSflg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-89692165385273417692011-08-17T08:00:00.002-06:002011-08-17T08:00:05.030-06:00The End Is Near<span style="font-size:130%;">Our last month of summer vacation is always our last chance to actually relax. We purposely under-schedule August in the hopes of spending quiet family time together. But since nature abhors a vacuum, any space left open in the day automatically gets filled up with an event of some sort. This summer, to try something new, Lady Di took the kids up north to Grampa's lake to stay a few weeks. I, of course, would stay home and work which meant that at least one person in the family would have peace and quiet for a couple weeks.</span>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">But things don't move too fast at Gramma and Grampa's either. Most mornings found Sweet Pea sitting on Grampa's dock fishing. She would take a baggie of corn to use for bait and catch and re-catch sunfish. She always throws them back so I'm sure some of those sunnies are getting pretty fat and getting sore lips. SP has two fishing rods she is quite proud of. SP's cousin works at the local bait shop and gave her a good deal on a <span style="color:#cc33cc;">bright pink</span> rod. It also has a reel that lights up when you spin it. When Grampa Ray saw all the fish she was catching with her new rod, he decided that she also needed a trolling rod for the boat. Somehow, he found a pink one of those to match. So now she has two really nice new pink fishing rods and is really getting some use out of them.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641624253990764866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVE5nxygztzf2uZjmEGcdKaxM6keYaMuFvrUifceXHAVZ0xXk9RaxLyalqHG1H4G7Axf0y18K0_C119xbX6RCnxC3tJ-k7EjDgoxgMCTE9JrHpyNS9PYU966Z3UkAinRkAViJB8YD0Faj/s320/bemidji+show+choir+005.jpg" /></div>
<br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">She also has discovered a passion for gardening. Grampa let's one of his neighbors use a spot on his land for a vegetable garden. So whenever Gene comes over to tend his plants, SP is tagging along at his heals and jibber-jabbering the whole time. She calls Gene her <em>pea-pickin' buddy. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641625168078905842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEPEyqNssxReYMK8yNpGtDiizerdgcfgGvPLayxA5KKF1li-jQ4B5sfyXALWcJz4EOITDJompgciU0SQEfXiCGVuvoQ5gl3NOH3Ge8zHTKLqtuHMuRq5DgQWkX3i5gNkGrFpRxD23GJjq/s320/bemidji+show+choir+009.jpg" /></em></span></p><span style="font-size:130%;">Here's SP's egg pealin' buddy.
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Her brother is less interested in fishing or gardening or being outside. He will sit with her on the dock and help her with the net and getting the fish off the hook, but his patience doesn't last long. His idea of fun at Grampa's is watching the Twins play baseball while eating a bowl of ice cream. He also uses his time to play games on his 3DS and showing Grampa how to navigate his own computer.</span></div>
<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641624755125599682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsOGQ9xkBEBVhVCVWc3dRGXfPc9b3iq_8QE9KynO_a7wsx9RAVjriTN6e6KfdnpJF9yEF-449k4lZCFCaAAZIDs053jlaOT13HLSQm-d9vnBzXSfdb_j5FumnRtDPl6ltuU4zHgnFzBqs/s320/bemidji+show+choir+012.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">Knowing N1S's interests, Lady Di broke her August scheduling rule and scheduled a Show Choir camp up by Gramma's house. So that makes three shows for N1S this summer. The camp in Bemidji had over 100 kids participating and they practiced three hours every morning for 1 week. This was something brand new for N1S and he didn't know anyone at the camp. Lady Di was a little apprehensive about dropping him off on the first day. "What if he gets lost? What if he doesn't make a friend? What if the kids are mean?"</span>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We needn't have worried. He was excited after his first practice and said he had an awesome time.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">LD asked, "Did you meet any new friends?"</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yeah, but I don't know their names.", was his reply.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This is pretty standard procedure for N1S. He has learned a lot of friend social skills but he still has to work on remembering them at the time. We prompted him to remember by telling him to exchange email addresses with someone. He can usually recall anything related to computers.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">At midweek the camp held a talent show for anyone who wanted to perform. With some encouragement from us, N1S consented to play a song on the piano. He said he did OK. There was one other piano player. He said the funny thing was that three entries performed Katy Perry's song <em>Firework.</em> He said by the time the third one came around everyone was pretty tired of <em>Firework</em>. On Thursday he found out that he and three others got picked to perform on Friday between their Show Choir songs.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I wasn't able to attend the show but LD, SP and both sets of grandparents were cheering him on. The talent show winners performed their songs for the first forty five minutes of the show. And even though there were four talent show 'winners' I know who was ranked as 'first winner'.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Then the entire show choir camp performed three songs. LD said that for around 1oo kids the choreography was pretty clean and everyone gave a sharp show. Of course we all know who was the sharpest and cleanest.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">That night I called N1S to ask how the show went and to congratulate him. He said he had a lot of fun. I asked if he made any friends. He said not really. "I was just too busy practicing and I forgot." But apparently he did make one acquaintance. </span><span style="font-size:130%;">After the show one of the high school directors came over to him to congratulate him and they discussed something about N1S's Nintendo 3DS game. N1S then said, "Maybe I'll see you next summer." So I guess that means he wants to come back. It'll give him another chance to 'remember' to make a friend or two. And hopefully, they will be closer to his age.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We've reached the middle of August. The cicadas are buzzing the trees. School can't be that far away. In fact, I think I can see it on the horizon if I squint. Can we squeeze in anymore fun before Labor Day! We better hurry!</span><span style="font-size:100%;">
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<br />Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-45676405268952289792011-08-09T07:33:00.017-06:002011-08-09T07:33:01.428-06:00Show Me What You Got!<span style="font-size:130%;">Welcome back to our family slide show of our summer so far. Get ready for some shows, softball and swimming. </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Once we returned from SD at the beginning of June, Number One Son auditioned for a part in a local community education children's theatre workshop. The show was Willy Wonka Jr. and N1S was impressive enough to land the role of Willy Wonka himself. This production practiced three hours every day for 2 weeks. They used minimal props and costumes but concentrated on acting, singing and dancing.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is Mr. Wonka in his Choco-vison room. I'm not sure if he was singing or snoring behind his special goggles.</span>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635350096135655154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMkcmjaYBcn-1AeLNG-aPIb3hkgUPGeOsVOxkxiPnYoA81Ubo86oRpZ5ynUqpL36CY5y5_qXiDkVPikEHc3BbHjHwzRGxkMYyiUscD81NDo_7_-m8qNyt1zmOZ4guKote6l_tBcuwpx3S/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+052.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">His good friend from school was also in the show playing Veruca Salt. I think they have been in about five or six shows together.</span>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635351434112139634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-xHsHfh6JilcyqzgRUu923-Hv_dKUNG9tGCkodXhqUt-DlaQHMF6Esmzfi6UM2w7dxo_kt-RxTi-LFyIR3Da111n1rutvdAwXdmWd95gw-ITx5WfgA50_xzOv4sejBw1wsS6o1AdP1OV/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+064.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">At around the same time Sweet Pea was playing softball for the first time. She got to hit for the first time. Well, maybe not <em>this</em> time.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635352382112542370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YjP6eb2qGRXYG8IzQz7YqBof5i7IIql48aukwEX-y1ofKIaHeZGWyMEqI6Dz0DqaAyE8bHfyx2-HdGiKB5FMeK9z1k0rzX78Je0JX8vQzdCtQscZiYTOsZU9wLhxA4zxH8GYtCCzwmHj/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+023.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;"> She got to pitch for the first time. Steeeeeeeeeeeerike!
<br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635353060308192898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5ysBg5xa1qA98s2_oZazjSnEYyQ5nEOq4RyeZrTIdm6SKKRMppSEajZD1wYad_zxvDhBKDlyjhCcJlrGCgBQe4iEWMxelZWatQMLMWVraQ8UGP8tON7JhUB-ZMevWo_5ywsRoCphsBms/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+027.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">She even got to catch for the first time. Trust me, it <em>is </em>her under all that gear.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635353674031534482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBW3ehyphenhyphenFBQIaiY3oePkUIQwBiyJpq542FGOtsBsntbQi-0fNADMCiGL4XSjne3eg2Y_s47A6nhyRt4tdKfxPnTb6KRiylQ6bqihXjo_Q26ENFeBrKJXFVK8EtTusYkPskWJaVeLfbh5Q2/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+100.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">None of the teams in her league had nicknames so the girls came up with one of their own. Since they wore yellow shirts, they called themselves the bumblebees. But as they improved with each practice they decided to change their name to the Killer Bees! I told SP that their team should all start buzzing when the other team was batting but it never really caught on. SP however, did convince N1S and I to help her make some inspirational posters to hang in their dugout during games. This is one of SP's.</span></div>
<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635355575899114162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPjRTs4PyGhp7gtPl2diOopbG6NQmQQrEd5gvBIQwB7wj0MyDq7KYSgvM8OldZVCzYwMwOVx4bVcAKvHtBkTKPddbAx5lkpud9eIekn-z1D2GF6QNw-2pn7ScxvIvBoh74TtgV9cveBs6/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+092.jpg" /></div></div>
<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S liked to come up with slogans for his posters. "Drive For The Hive" and "Bring Your <strong>Bee</strong> Game" were his favorites.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635356851864756002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4KAielYZZWv_xhDvrDPTcvqvcy7JfA6Ar5_w_EF_GCLKNg-9FzDGTcFBQrVHxZij9tkEg9IZH9QzEtl1ZXr4nC14D6fsdjUjXH9mD1srxV0hm-e9ORVm1vOUSkpvMad7SZ1n-FsBW7dr/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+089.jpg" /></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">SP thought her team could get some help from the dark side with her poster. I think it's fun to use my lowest Darth Vader voice and read, "Bees, I am cheering for your team."</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635355567354679890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAt5zCMFqGSci9mLEMUiUhTfg9W1Jk9_6nu9HWWoctZmmnvoCwZmCzl3MJ1C78uaC7xRcthHz44ryQf06kD8c8pWJSvCNTBzbYm46BNc9lGDFFuOeZPvcIZH94waf22vNeu_9mQAK7akx_/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+090.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">During SP's softball schedule, we had some of the hottest, most humid days of the summer. Luckily, the kids have an Auntie Sue who lets them swim in her pool.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635358770972049122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioYs6O5uIRii_zZ7m0rKvz4woo6WjKk7F_8dinVsHTbWq35KnLiTfZMMTgxztU_o1wbtmFl8mvoQkb7tEzOIo4oNfDZbJBSE9pBMLvBSiP7M6HbzDWvEJlOHFPDmxzRKLxyhcQ0m5v3L_L/s320/softball%252C+swimming%252CWilly+Wonka+2011+088.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Oops! I hope pink shoulders are in this year.</span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The schedule just got busier from there. While SP was playing softball and N1S was performing Willy Wonka Jr., both kids were practicing for their third Show Choir show. This Show Choir theme was 'Songs from Glee'. They, along with about 40 kids formed the junior choir with about 16 members of the senior choir. They started off the show with a song called 'Loser Like Me'. SP and N1S dressed as nerds for this song.</span>
<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635362119703749538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB6YX0V8-0sLqKd6LQPQaH47X6C5p2XlbGCuq5xuWoDR_XNNKldKv0lY0C_AUWb0dFhFG9qlZSO7Yh5QV2N7RyGXEweUad64w7gi9uNgWvFWN3BHhuFVs6ioEOSXqXiczjIcjOpiFG4HAC/s320/showchoir+2011+012.jpg" /></div></div>
<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Next on the program was the song 'Cooler Than Me'. The kids are trying their best to look 'cool'. Shake it, SP!</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635360412177830594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqAiOAhj2qhXUmMYauDKDM3V-HZubLumr9SxYaGpRNghwyaIgUYVZ1udUY7HUbIkg6L5zRwZgUto3AErVMHJSurEYjeBjUG76LrKpWxTUK3XfgXVYSQacQjKVBFI5GWZasqS0tYW69DuO/s320/showchoir+2011+004.jpg" /></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S got to sing with the boys to the tune of Justin Bieber's "Baby". Each guy in the choir got to sing a short solo while giving the girls in front of the stage a thrill by touching their hands. SP was picked to be in front of the stage waving her homemade JB posters with her friend. For some reason SP insisted that her posters have multiple puppies and kitties to keep JB company.</span></div>
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<br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635360437552695170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTi46NnCviCVXYy_LPxgPHP0p6npbY4fgWzHSms01krECYImXdq_3WltB12nI4WKGvloZSfE79pw8OVkoZbwlvD9tWTnrintPAL2tn_oJPUTKhsXiwvvGUCoAaFpb3rLybPvKR605j-hpL/s320/showchoir+2011+023.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div>
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<br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">They ended the show with a high energy, highly freaky version of Lady Ga Ga's song 'Bad Romance'. This one had a lot of masks, feathers and sparkle.
<br /></div></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635360425465060658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YbkX2I4dgfHJP6caENWdJcGZiSYgJmhiszmvJ8GwVkcs4s9LNJWqGb1etZIk-VdGI1Uh8hjYmWEUPmgBXhxg1_tLCuoiqoC6xSJfz0ZG_-_kdamfh4YscUilNw5bJm5biN3jqhXZT8t7/s320/showchoir+2011+016.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">Now that brings us to the end of July. Only one month left to go. </span>
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<br />Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-52785746872793970432011-07-31T07:46:00.023-06:002011-07-31T07:46:00.583-06:00Summer Memories<span style="font-size:130%;">I am greatly sorry for the long gaps between posts. I'm sure both of the readers I have left are staging a boycott as I type. However, since I have time to write and my kids have had time to pile up a barn full of summer activities, you will listen to every word I have to say!</span><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Well, that just cut my readership in half.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I'll just start summer with Sweet Pea's birthday. Why would I start there? Because that's where my pictures start on the computer.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635330056783683346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnHNNqQIffboSqg-blyM7MqY2x_WOgYJVjtmo9_TB3NsUPlP5p3p-8uJvFGB8y7F9aCkklwuPCPwdpdC2CNlIEVW-fk8hXdFmbfM2ABujWDxMrK5tCZYSnO7yeWAh_AEyPMuTOJn-TlO2/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+051.jpg" /></span></div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">As you can tell by the picture, 'A good time was had by all'. Actually, I think SP was already dressed for bed judging by her clothes and hair. The black Muppet on her shoulder is Ruby helping her blow out her candles. I'm pretty sure Ruby probably just chewed SP's hair while she was huffing and puffing.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Next we headed west to South Dakota to attend my <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-my-grandmother-baked.html"><span style="color:#3333ff;">Grandma Peg's</span> </a>funeral. She was my pie baking grandma and our family was fortunate enough to enjoy 96+ wonderful fulfilling years. Funerals involve much sadness but they are also great chances to remember a life and reconnect with family members that you haven't seen in a long time by relating all the unforgettable memories we all shared.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635331379224237026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJ2wmVCqgrlNuEyc3l-uuLL9D71WXpwIGSwZcDG4GRQ6EvoU9wPDrKO0y-QnuikHC19evDO00MwQXXYIcrKZFcSJd7KQ8mt6MW0oM8GKJXkRqIAUjGix2q_PoBCIw00fHSdFuzodU-l4d/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+087.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">Here are Number One Son and Sweet Pea enjoying time with their far away cousins. At least I think N1S is enjoying being with all of his girl cousins.</span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">When we go to SD to stay with Gramma and Grampa we usually have to find a little time to golf. The kids are now old enough to swing a club and actually see the ball fly above the grass. Here N1S hammers one! Pay no attention to the small yellow dot in front of him.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635333316091829618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQAkg4FLgRtZ2ErwoFQKBizOuSElJ6U039Dqo8zytAh62k-QvHC_gp-pfnc-BYvm5TFx2U6obVx1MxESNWuRajx2EuS5OH1oYRzu_dDTdg6n4HGfXuB4y32EyUMqKaYa3BVykZOo6J8nv/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+105.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP's swing shows a lot of 'potential'. I'm pretty sure she connected on this one for a heckuva shot.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635334749584345042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3KbyW_Lz1Wfp0pKBidp9CLzyFOljGyX513e5xvqW0Yl-nk_WxY4g8cxM5Vi32EvYNxiMiL4PoZhHMoLz8IQa6bU94NBcBvbXR1dmU29Z_1Wde__ljALDRIoTK0CdyNhd8Npa2aYcYXWQg/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+103.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">While we enjoyed our golf game we also took time to take in the beautiful surroundings. Just across the out of bounds fence on the second hole we had our own private gallery cheering us on. People from SD know that this is not an uncommon sight.</span> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635335818408880626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi778XVnQiY4TPcvZ73iq3uGr3HmytYpfem4wz3Ij1G8I9Pg3EKRP9KyeEPuQA8DkNX0ZCWWMyrXdaStLMTbuoo4OK6IAS62-MYDhmkiK52vgreVuo1Mjj4oH-xWvqhawkFB6T_ZrlO7Bo2/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+108.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">We made sure to take some time to try to lure the calves over to us and feed them some grass but their mothers kept them pretty close.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">After a long morning of golfing, we went to Gramma's house to relax. As you can see some of us were quite exhausted. </span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635339919958461794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyog2G51rVSBXu5wUL6XcYQBCaMkkhDcgQ2kFOhYc6nag2rKxiauZp0cPaJ6cmN6eQoSXAsnJ6_tYDI3n8DDcu43VE7GwKCRnphgvX34OiVCzxG4Sis3Qg7tAhkOmfh8WLk1iE971dN4Sp/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+002.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP used her time to climb Gramma's big maple tree. It doesn't look too high but her feet are actually about seven feet from the ground which is pretty high for SP.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635337354867247650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4ZXZtMUOeXYLIgx0gF8Wsd36xHH_bRXsWhlCtJi0HfVjL4J5o7vVwOCSc2MTr8WF7zv1jqJZGscTseKkseRxItPPTHbAsPLt_-6C74tNHFsAVgJ8rxy5k7Kqp09tg_dWNg4kaEO6WsI8/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+112.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">We are grateful to have family that we can visit and have fun with. Thank you Gramma and Grampa Bell for living close to a golf course next to a farm and for having big trees to climb.</span></div></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">And a big thank you to my Grandma Peg for her wisdom, guidance, support and love. And especially her pies.<br /></span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635339176485670850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Xu5uXVbUW88xqPThu-gb-oLi0V0V2aadejIaCctBpGbOPQLKGtvvtGcWOxSrDbeyG1QCmJR9vbgZYawnfV64PAGfdFLHIeDUfkwNB_g2QyTAsj0uvjneM4ztJYipEz5wAlbonM857wJ0/s320/Emery+bd%252C+Gm+Peg+funeral+2011+097.jpg" /> We will always remember you.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Well that only brings us to early June. We have more summer to come. Tune in next week.</span> </div></div></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-2503516731375385862011-06-20T10:15:00.012-06:002011-06-20T10:45:44.912-06:00<span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Belated Father's Day to all the Dads out there. I hope everyone had a chance to enjoy their day. If either couches, TV's or backyards were involved, the day was well spent. I unfortunately had to work but I still reaped the benefits of fatherhood when I got home.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Sweet Pea showed her generosity by cleaning out her room and wrapping it up for me.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620343325356703490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBHkD46T76F-MA-hY1WWjcSDApNqo03Vxk10HFbBuAF0DwC4jaaB1-RJbiDXKdRMEej94ctnNdK4TCb7Y1hcocci3jC9QsOpzlAzyo2w0iyuzftq4TRYtwEsRMpO36J1rEQfcbTlG3cwyP/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+017.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">It looks like she just wrapped herself up, which is gift enough for me, but trust me there are a garage sale worth of items under the pink crepe.</span><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620338118322557874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfxL93txBdcbvJ5e7G_92dAZ8h6Z7SBKbJu9dRMPsaNPzENcF-bc1oqDsdj8UBMpgochpsEhRzWS3Qb1lfEN4r3DTHxzoa3_sX0GHpmp7OlsiWrmCodWDfSNE6U-S3LOFsIcDYcTvqU4cT/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+018.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is what it looked like unwrapped. So many things that she had to use a bucket that she personally decorated with cut out pictures of puppies and kitties. My favorite.</span></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620338723172070530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDHW8PykakswztRorZ9uyKa-7aAhSPbdkIO0598UmdxJv4Xgj4VmxnQpSJdu_nY4TLZXl1_3BarCZ_ENyZZ8bDpoGk4Q0ofE4YSTJLhGLe_HVcl7KUsQ-FUOh7D13M2NejtpHNp1Lv2ODi/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+020.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">My adventures in gifting started out with individually painted clay newts complete with hats and lamp. I was so excited that two second after receiving them I broke one of the lizards legs. Luckily, I'm a dad and have super glue in the garage.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620339420572184130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvi2QkhiEjdU07y3saMF4lALbBTGl0z6oqJ9VpaN7x1HPp-mG3Kq0VnbzPNGYPI4hPHDYKrwz4XeTtSnRrrmyVbJEtqm2VpjEDDOr8zS51Vesq8JbPc1MRFHiPiVi977eQVVSEuOYhE1dO/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+021.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">The next group of gifts had the <em>'Nightmare Before Christmas'</em> theme. SP drew a picture of Jack Skellington, Sally and the Doctor. I also got a clay Jack head and a playdoh like Jack head. I think she achieved a very good likeness in all three mediums.</span></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620340874215744002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLfKGPrRCg5nbOAukr3X_oraBw80Bb9oeSXAK-d774HG_tYBKrWUlxuku8Tart0TPyaG59qxAUQsIxVmWxrtbsszxrQElZ_RO8RGPhnFhi2lVhKMv03KwhF8jRvj0I_Wsz1pvzbYfHdf-/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+022.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">This is her self portrait showing off the crackle nail polish that she bought with her own money.</span></div><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620341482392839618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCwiiC9IXSSbtjb16ydQZGpLTv8IgnfudhsoFnff22Fj6ISDkOeJ2hBlLomxcVzm3SYDVO_vYfEooE0dqYPySGDZD1GQe_TAeD-yuiRtpzHmO5kYx2hkGeb4aXthO7sk_QGnSMLCvfWhN/s320/Ollie%252C+father%2527s+day+2011+023.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">The last bit of art work are these marine life scenes she made in an art class a little while ago. With the haul I made this year, I'll have the best decorated garage on the block.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">The red bucket of surprises also a finger knitted tie for work which had a safety pin at the top to attach to my shirt. A stuffed moose, a cartoon journal and few smiley face pins filled the rest of the bucket.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Every Father's Day the best gifts are the homemade gifts. Even a coupon for a free nap of my choosing is better than anything from a store. I hope SP keeps exercising her artistic talents. As long as she does, I will have a space available in the art gallery.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-45295889763783021152011-05-31T05:20:00.000-06:002011-05-31T06:53:33.294-06:00Wonders of the World<span style="font-size:130%;">Do you ever wonder about things? Of course, everyone does. Listening to the radio today a caller to the show used the word 'fantabulous'. A combination of fantastic and fabulous. I have heard this word often before, but I thought, why haven't I ever heard the word 'fabulastic'? It's a combination of the same two words only reversed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And everyone has probably used or heard the double combination words, absitively posilutely. Heck, those words are almost always used together. So why aren't fantabulous and fabulastic joined at the verbal hip? Just something I wonder about.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Something else that just randomly fell into my head is the phrase, <span style="color:#003333;">"Bread-butt sandwich".</span> You may not have heard of this before because I just made it up. It's a sandwich made with the last two slices of bread in the bag, or the butt ends. Also known as the bread that only Dads eat. Kids and Moms will always refuse to eat the butt end of a loaf of bread. They won't even consider putting it in the toaster. Therefore, those pieces always get wasted in the garbage unless Dad steps forward for his bread-butt sandwich. Does anyone know who to call about getting credit for a new phrase once it sweeps the nation?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">On an unrelated note, just recently, I overheard this conversation in the kids' bathroom while they were brushing their teeth before bedtime.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S: What smells in here?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP: It doesn't smell in here!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S: Yes it does. Didn't you just go to the bathroom?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP: Yeah, but I didn't go number two!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S: Well, it smells like you went number four!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">What exactly would number four be?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP wonders, "Does grass blink?" This is the question I got driving her to school one morning. Then when we were watching the movie <em>Alice In Wonderland</em> she turns to me and says, "I like this movie because all of the animals and flowers can talk."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I then observed, "Yeah, but the mushrooms don't talk."</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP then exasperatedly let me know with a subtle roll of her eyes, "Well, <strong>of course</strong> <em>they</em> don't talk."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Well, how obtuse of me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I guess there are some things I will <em>always</em> wonder about.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">PS:After finishing this post I searched for the phrase bread-butt sandwich and found <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Bread%20Butt&defid=2573563"><span style="color:#cc0000;">this.</span></a> I guess someone beat me to it. Wonder no more!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-58328054481470915902011-05-22T09:00:00.003-06:002011-05-22T09:00:05.664-06:00We Got The Beat<span style="font-size:130%;">No one can debate that the 1980's were the rockinest decade of all time. Who could argue that the hits that came out of 1980 will all stand the test of time? Spending our high school years in the 80's prepared us to Pump Up the Jam as well as the Volume.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Back then It was Hard For Us To Say I'm Sorry, but easy for us to say Hello, and then Hello Again. We also Said You, Said Me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We were Born In the USA. Then we Took It On the Run to Africa and the Land Down Under.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Our decade had lots of Material Girls who Just Wanted to Have Fun, Smokin In The Boysroom. Girls like Roxanne, Rosanna, Billie Jean, Jessie's Girl and Sister Christian.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We were Footloose, Hungry Like the Wolf , Maniacs and we may have Given Love a Bad Name, but we sure Let the Good Times Roll and we never Stopped Believin'. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Sometimes we were Licenced to Ill and called Dr. Feelgood. But we also wanted Candy and Ran, Ran So Far Away in the Heat of the Moment.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So when we weren't Fighting For Our Right to Party like it's 1999, Dancing in the Dark at St. Elmo's Fire, we were doing our Final Countdown of 99 Luftballoons.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Now, however, Frankie tells us to Relax, but our Reflex is to Jump, Rock Like Hurricanes and Neutron Dance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Only The Good Die Young and we are still around. In other words, We Are The Champions!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh Yeah! (Chicka-chickaaaah)</span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-60806458197206088412011-04-19T09:48:00.004-06:002011-04-19T20:29:46.503-06:00How Much Is That Puffball In The Window?<span style="font-size:130%;">Change is happening outside and along with the seasons, a big change is happening inside our home too. Some of you may have read a while ago about our beloved puppy, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2011/02/our-fifteen-year-journey.html"><span style="color:#990000;">Liberty</span></a>, passing away after 16 wonderful years. Well, apparently she had left a large vacancy in our lives that we needed filled. So last week, we had an addition to our family.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BF49RoIq2UUUu6XaW5FEWU2uC7Z0R3riEHee0tGnsx7cbc8vS3lIJDJHsYbD6iQYSjn2YsH1WlpCY8QiGwB05heiG_uDlgL7MY3UTCZuNoxZLwFhdhOPsRt64WjjW25HNLs9n8u3fE75/s1600/Ruby.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597473874759454562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BF49RoIq2UUUu6XaW5FEWU2uC7Z0R3riEHee0tGnsx7cbc8vS3lIJDJHsYbD6iQYSjn2YsH1WlpCY8QiGwB05heiG_uDlgL7MY3UTCZuNoxZLwFhdhOPsRt64WjjW25HNLs9n8u3fE75/s320/Ruby.JPG" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Her name is Ruby. She is a toy poodle pup. She is black and came with a lot of cute cred. She certainly has not replaced Liberty but is filling the void nicely. In fact, potty training is filling more than one void in our lives. I didn't realize how much idle time I actually had on my hands until the all-day-Ruby-watch started. She tries to act innocent and disinterested in pooping when we are outside. Then we come inside the house and she bides her time until I finally blink due to dry eyes from keeping a constant vigil to catch her before she does her business. She is tricky. Once she fills a void by emptying her bowels in the house, she resorts back to the innocent look complete with puppy dog eyes. Luckily, a little puppy has little poops.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Everything else is pretty normal. We've been showing her off to all our friends. Many of whom ask, "Is it real?" the first time they see her. Her size has caused her to be mistaken for a Beanie Baby.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVGh9LSQgAcY1YqzFdnT3HcRrF0WwWrgpMZab0hOIOEsjde60azpHztviOYoYCxj6R2-DI6KVB2xG21S-iAcU94BVcPC7F9f7dZhl2_9ZBRyC0P5vuxgnY5HwwJelVFGfn1bapVoLFBj3/s1600/ruby2011+017.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597476470261693858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVGh9LSQgAcY1YqzFdnT3HcRrF0WwWrgpMZab0hOIOEsjde60azpHztviOYoYCxj6R2-DI6KVB2xG21S-iAcU94BVcPC7F9f7dZhl2_9ZBRyC0P5vuxgnY5HwwJelVFGfn1bapVoLFBj3/s320/ruby2011+017.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We wanted to surprise the kids so we didn't tell them anything about getting a puppy. On the day we brought her home we took her to Sweet Pea's school at the end of the day. When SP walked into the office, her first words were, "It is real!!!". Followed by, "She's so cute. I love her!"</span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYyzHjIsKCW7tKLWc5RtGgl0bRkzaDr1oq5qU3D23n5b4ZFhgTS1f_dzg1u_4bWzBngbCQEQo3k7Z7CS-wXw1BzEHvceGsYdzW_j47075Zb16WIMbn4dw5JjZ2Qr51sCeG-68NDWhdolw/s1600/ruby2011+026.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597477451915294338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYyzHjIsKCW7tKLWc5RtGgl0bRkzaDr1oq5qU3D23n5b4ZFhgTS1f_dzg1u_4bWzBngbCQEQo3k7Z7CS-wXw1BzEHvceGsYdzW_j47075Zb16WIMbn4dw5JjZ2Qr51sCeG-68NDWhdolw/s320/ruby2011+026.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We've had Ruby for one week now and she is finally getting into a routine. In the morning we get up and immediately pee. Ruby outside, me inside. Then we come in for breakfast. She is so tiny that our old dog bowls were too deep for her. She eats out of a Tupperware lid and drinks out of a Barbie play bowl. Then Ruby plays for a half hour and exhausts herself. She then climbs to the top of the tallest pile of laundry she can find and zonks out for an hour or two.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The rest of her day is spent similarly. Sometimes she substitutes play time for curling up on Lady Di's lap or my shoulder. She only weighs about a pound and feels like she has bird bones. But she's pretty tough and likes to roll around a little.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">In the evening we let her outside one more time to do her puppy business which she is sometimes reluctant to do. Mother Nature decided to play a trick on us and lower temps to the 40's and crank up the wind. We sometimes have to create a wind break for Ruby with our feet to keep her from being toppled by the mildest of gusts. She will often squat to pee and then race back to our feet to look up at us and whimper from the cold. I tell her she has to finish going potty. She looks around and then turns on the turbo-cute by adding a squeaky bark with her sad eyes.</span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-jPF9xt8crZ-hygI5fE40izvoaGgjmoHx8CVumnPmxK7j4c7LN0fApiKSSoQCHF5UVLsaUqQbr8phjheWLFOs5dou_j2g9U4cKa24s8KRVYNgHoJi3sqZXDIQJuENfLrT3WVZbuOJ-ZQ/s1600/ruby2011+028.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597476960901419426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-jPF9xt8crZ-hygI5fE40izvoaGgjmoHx8CVumnPmxK7j4c7LN0fApiKSSoQCHF5UVLsaUqQbr8phjheWLFOs5dou_j2g9U4cKa24s8KRVYNgHoJi3sqZXDIQJuENfLrT3WVZbuOJ-ZQ/s320/ruby2011+028.jpg" /></a></p><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Once in her kennel bed, we wind up the clock for the tick-tocking and set our alarms for every 2 & 1/2 hours to let her out for overnight potty breaks. It's funny how after Ruby finishes her nighttime business, I strangely feel the same urge to complete some bathroom business. It's also puzzling how I usually count only one overnight trip to the front yard, but Lady Di says she wakes up two to three times a night. Maybe the alarm is quieter on my side of the bed.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Hopefully, when the weather warms up a bit the potty training will get a little easier. Regardless, Ruby is earning her keep by entertaining us with cute puppy stuff with cute puppy toys. As long as her poops stay small she can probably stay.</span></div></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-33130590197615702362011-03-27T07:51:00.003-06:002011-03-27T07:51:00.142-06:00Fun with Paint and Wood<div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Ladies, start your engines! Our local Girl Scout organization hosted their 3rd annual pinewood derby race last week. Which means that once again, I had to clean the sawdust from my tools from last year's car and help Sweet Pea create another wheeled work of art. Each year I let SP choose how she wants her car to look. I try to cut, sand and chisel her wood block into a reasonably similar shape to her idea. Then I let her work her magic with paint and accessories.</span></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">To view previous pinewood derby cars just click <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2009/02/vrooooooooooom.html">here</a> and <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2010/02/whats-new.html">here.</a></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This year SP decided she wanted her car to look like one of the minions from the animated movie, <a href="http://www.despicableme.com/">'Despicable Me'</a>. A minion is a cute yellow Tylenol-shaped worker who wears goggles and denim overalls. This design was actually much simpler for me because I only had to round off the corners of her block and glue a round, washer holding cup to look like a one eyed goggle. Did I mention that some minions have one eye and some have two eyes?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">So, using the DVD case as a guide, SP created a very believable likeness with bendaroos used as arms.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586320665425589282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMyfDZFdBqYWDTBwp6DNQnQSBorNvODFVbEGn3Za2m1gI6wEAgFtZ0n49VqMrUikn1YzLeOyhNn3EBmZrneoMpO___1YWGWz07CdUnW_DMx1uER01ByUcyr_mTf4Os_5YFOf8vLvECLmuN/s320/pinewood+2011+017.jpg" /></span></div></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">SP decided that her minion would have a smug, contented look about him so she drew an eye with a half closed lid. You can't see from the picture but her minion has one black curlicue hair on top of his head.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Our cars usually are not made for speed, but this year SP won her first heat and got second in her other two heats. Not good enough for a trophy but still OK.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">So when SP wasn't racing, I had plenty of time to view the competition. About 160+ cars of competition.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586321932578882066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4hH4VV-2kRtti-DlIEnkXJo3JIrTm8cgpSCbz3QjxtfjqNy_RwkfffJzI37FFsuN5KVGvbgvIXFBcm91nrHiBe_Z45dVGj0MbolY5aqGO_SWy9j3nEZzEFWFhkVRXz85DXWxeykthSDW/s320/pinewood+2011+011.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">There was evidence of much creativity among the wheeled wood blocks. Some cars had better paint jobs than the van we drive.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586322799773088306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNNklWv1R15lf6eXoMaN1ZkOftJDNbJwqDqXaZDj5k_Xm_58XADPpKvWZS-Dj8VpB__h6rJupu4TgCFLKlsE6UbHnZFwyb97jmVbZoyDIAVFqwvr60bzxH0MpjgVoq4gew_xsYAR644Gop/s320/pinewood+2011+012.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Each girl scout got to vote for their favorite cars. This walrus car won for 'Most Creative.'</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586325772017775602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWYW3-6-1v6PK6MyV9MuEG7WSRZOYMQxM4DbLvZAMhE9fn313F17QFgUPWRpysNRDOhblDfq0TEoi1wXuHfDXg18tj8OHrTxZDcDiOPMikmv2JBg9rTRS1m-mXxuoqCEH9_S-HQSpMWGs/s320/pinewood+2011+013.jpg" />Here is some more of the girl scout's artistic ability. Someone actually carved that panda bear riding a toboggan. We also saw a car with working headlights.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">With all of the talent and creativity on display, SP got some good ideas for next year. I will have to look into how to install headlights and probably add a working radio too. Hmmm...a derby car in the design of an Ipod perhaps? </span></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-47375611589561022782011-03-20T09:38:00.024-06:002011-03-20T18:08:33.787-06:00Lenny the Leprechaun Strikes Again!<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">Did anyone catch the leprechaun last week? Sweet Pea gave it another try this year. </span><a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2010/03/luck-of-sweet-peas.html"><span style="color:#660000;">Last year</span></a><span style="color:#006600;"> she set up an elaborate trap involving string, bait, weights and triggers to ensnare the elusive leprechaun. This year she modified her efforts by rigging an alarm to wake her when the leprechaun went for her bait.</span></span><span style="color:#006600;"><br /><br /></span><p><span style="color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586309883063538754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKe-627ffqBr3xn0zkBkp_u509nE0dG6duyOEEEElpAIwVX1O7aWMY1O0sjsDoir_0c9lSevHgOxiJz8Ok1l-0jFHB5lWbHU8QdmybBjO61IdphQBpwhk7eky7dXxxZyhIeMjCXZz9dwVY/s320/volleyleprechaun+2011+002.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">SP's bait was a trail of homemade paper coins leading to an upside down wastebasket suspended with yarn by her bed.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586309125855268546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkiO78izKBLh00-Q4x-7jv4VPibvRpm1dkWoQmQWwOUanhpTmsheU5iwqi_QXD1QAJn0b4cQR9SntMtrD9Bk_tuMcDy6z0ziAjuVnoguf5148Sx7FhCBdJVbft1gIr2lV7Yv8OrukWHCe1/s320/volleyleprechaun+2011+023.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">The trail of coins started at the other end of her room next to a note placed on top of her alarm clock. The plan was for Lenny the Leprechaun to read the note (stating press here for gold), press the alarm button, waking SP just in time to spring her trap.</span></span></p><p><span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:130%;">SP's enthusiasm even got her brother in on the action too. He left a trail of paper coins too, not leading to a trap but to a list of leprechaun questions. His letter started out by wishing the leprechaun a lucky day and that he left a cup of Granny Smith Sweet Green Apple applesauce for him. He later wrote that his mom took the applesauce and he would have to find it in the refrigerator. N1S also wrote that he will not be setting any traps. By morning all of N1S's coins were gone and his questions were all answered in green marker. The leprechaun also signed his name in Gaelic which he must have looked up on the Internet. I'm pretty sure Number One Son knew what was going on but he still played along for his little sister.</span></span></p><p><span style="color:#006600;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I guess the leprechaun was too wily to fall for SP's note. In the morning SP's paper money was gone, but the kindly Lenny left her a box of orange flavored Tic-Tac's in trade.</span></p><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'm not sure if SP really expects to catch a leprechaun each year or if she just intends to trick her parents into giving her a treat every March. Either way, I'd say we all are pretty lucky to have Lenny to entertain us.</span></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-71017529784950321192011-02-14T08:48:00.006-06:002011-02-15T15:06:35.831-06:00Are You Game?<span style="font-size:130%;">How many board games do you own? If you are a <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/12/great-shakes.html"><span style="color:#009900;">board game family</span> </a>you know that the number is probably in the double digits. If you are not a board game family, you have a lot more shelf space in your basement than I. I grew up in a board game family. Lady Di also grew up playing games and cards at the dining room table with her family. To this day I can only win 1 out of every 10 games of 500 against Lady Di.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Which brings me to my original question, 'How many board games do you own?'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I was staring at our wall of games in the basement last week and I wondered, "How did we accumulate so many long flat boxes of fun?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Most of the blame can go to our parents. They are the ones who planted the game playing bug in our brains. Somehow, we also got the bright idea that a new board game every Christmas was sane. That way we could play a new game every Christmas morning as a family. After the new video games got boring, of course. Which is the <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/07/thats-life.html"><span style="color:#ff0000;">beauty of board games</span></a>. They always play differently each time you play. And I'm not talking about the strange way the rules tend to change to fit the needs of the current rule keeper. And why does every game have a rule to gang up on Dad and send him back to Sorry land or make him Draw Four or force him to pay for multiple stays in a fancy Boardwalk hotel every time?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Anyway, our grand total as of last week was 53 games! Games with and without boards. Games with dice, cards, pop-o-matic die, money, tiles, spinners, letters, numbers, colors,blocks, clay, pencils, paper, sand timers, and buzzers. Games with lead pipes, revolvers, top hats, thimbles, pegs, pawns and pigs. Games that give us Trouble, Cooties, Ants in Our Pants, Mystery Dates and Free Parking.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">That total doesn't count the multiple packs of playing cards, memory cards, flash cards, match cards,Uno cards, Star Wars cards, Old Maid, Go Fish, Crazy Eight, Bandits, etc.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I also didn't count the 14 games that are currently on our summer garage sale pile.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We currently have 9 games whose name ends with the letter 'O'.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We have 3 different Monopoly games. Original, Star Wars, and Wizard of Oz.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We have 13 Parker Brothers games and 20 games from Milton Bradley.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We have 4 games that require shouting something. Yahtzee, Jenga, Uno and Sorry. I don't think Jenga actually requires that you shout Jenga when the blocks topple but that's how I play it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We have only 1 game with a large mat with large colored dots.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We have games for small children like Don't Break the Ice and Candyland. And games for big children like Taboo and Catchphrase. We have smart (N1S & SP) people games like chess and cribbage. And for the other people (Dad) we have Taboo and Catchphrase.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Do we really need this many games?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I don't think we will make it through this winter without them. Our weather has been so hostile that it's daring us to just try and survive it. So with no where to go and nothing on TV, we turn to our cheap family entertainment. A little bit of cardboard, ink and plastic to arm us against cabin fever.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So I'm back to asking, "How many games do you own?" "Is it enough to last the winter?" And which are your favorites? </span><span style="font-size:130%;"></span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-11733272545057135392011-02-03T07:42:00.006-06:002011-02-04T07:36:42.289-06:00Our Fifteen Year Journey<div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OrBM9fCGrAANToG5-VjCVQenIovJoM41JTZO4SM3dMzjkZLOwcA97JiiG9GI7OHfMYuNPkQMzteLC2z4Hxl41gATTOWLmQNgf7caBl3raYYNUD6r3Sz2nMxOViZvQsFXWWD8VAVAVg9u/s1600/lib+002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569230230690552402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OrBM9fCGrAANToG5-VjCVQenIovJoM41JTZO4SM3dMzjkZLOwcA97JiiG9GI7OHfMYuNPkQMzteLC2z4Hxl41gATTOWLmQNgf7caBl3raYYNUD6r3Sz2nMxOViZvQsFXWWD8VAVAVg9u/s320/lib+002.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">We have had some sad news in our family recently. Our 15+ year old puppy, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-in-family.html"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Liberty</span></a>, passed away last Monday morning. Based on the pain we are all feeling, she was truly a member of our family. I know some people will say she was only a dog, but Lady Di recently heard a wise saying stating "Some people<em> love</em> their pets, some people <em>have</em> pets."</span><br /><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lady Di has had dogs as pets her whole life. Liberty was my first dog. We got her from a farm in South Dakota just after we got married in 1995. She has lived with LD and I in each of our four homes together. We house trained her in our first rental home when she was a little ball of black fur. I can remember tiring her out before bedtime just by running with her to the end of the block and back.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">She was always a smart dog. She learned her tricks quickly. She had a basket of her toys that she knew by name. If we told her to get her rope, she would sort through her basket until she found the rope. We tried a few times to give her squeaky toys, but she was always determined to work on that toy until the squeaker was removed.</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569225341857135234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_-MjQR-ot5fmd0W_hYjhRtl3uEV0heboGKWfJZ-lrYZJD68knZzOq9eViZvjd-1kJK92VISU4gy7eDA1Jbvz5Cn00UHe4jnT1P2amJs3abUCuCdJoCsYwQyP1BOEi5Bl4ze52G7_vB7tF/s320/2007+419.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">There were also many Christmases where Liberty would sneak under the tree, remove <em><strong>only her</strong></em> present and start unwrapping it. This last Christmas was the first one that Liberty started unwrapping one of N1S's gifts. She must have had trouble reading the tag with her poor eyesight. </span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569225049969439810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilIIMjQ6yaHQiXx8IqqaUjv1p1NOVBm2VMU3Y4Yz3gj9Jo4I4NP7gtvDS7WLSFENcFUUQT6Fr0ag442F-RbZoYoU1s8miC91HrkKhj73n3qHy-FATgp8ZSRkmwK2_E8oxFYcpzHqqVWUeB/s320/xmas+2007+018.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">In 1998 Number One Son arrived and Liberty needed to stay with Gramma and Grampa for a few months while Lady Di was on bed rest and N1S grew in the NICU. When N1S finally came home, Liberty would take her naps under his crib as if she was guarding her new brother. Shortly after, Liberty's walking on the leash time decreased due to a new baby in the house. But she quickly learned that her table scrap opportunities greatly increase beneath N1S's high chair.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">In 2002 Liberty finally got a little sister, Sweet Pea. Liberty's play time took another hit as the kids tended to monopolize most of our time. </span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">So this is the first time in the kids' life when they don't have a dog. News of Liberty's death affected each kid differently. N1S was quite matter of fact about the whole thing. He woke up Monday morning and saw her lifeless body and came to tell us without shedding a tear. We found out later that he broke down once in school but luckily he had some great support there.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Sweet Pea was quite emotional. I woke her up for school on Monday and told her I had some sad news. She guessed what happened and we both sobbed on her bed for a few minutes. Now SP goes around the house finding things that remind her of Liberty. She also wants to make a scrapbook for her puppy.</span></div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569228908878228738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzTWl47n0GgF-AUFcCVXkwgAAyl95qpzxoKXfwwqa4VKCXeckBpbqSVAYqbAMqHCbANrJVzbiQ9BsBK9iUN838VKpJI0mxhko7xe1CTDH4Fsncl-Swrt8CJnqZJe05dMWY0A_TitIVrGa/s320/2007+233.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Both kids however are handling it well in their own ways.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Lady Di and I are having a more difficult time of it. When you have a dog you treat as a member of the family for 15 years everything reminds you of her. Having crumbs on our kitchen floor for the first time in a decade and a half is one thing you don't realize will trigger so many memories. Each room in the house has it's own special moments that make them seem incomplete now.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Included among the many things I will miss is having a lap warmer on cold Minnesota winter evenings. I will miss her whenever I do yard work in the summer. She won't be contentedly sitting in the shade keeping one eye on me and the other on the neighborhood. I will miss the merest whisper of the word 'popcorn' making her ears prick up instantly from the deepest of naps.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569225579373655970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyhjZm2ckfJuaDQAy7kuTsJc_Qfal4gLVoj-2r8POe3MK7ApIYTMj-4KSigyR_qD6XuSDAv1Wl5kWkP36sjYA4S3LQGpHcHzjLXTwYEIatmWHcxiKXQH1ZngYKPKrX0zWkfsnm1O7uw8I/s320/2007+075.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">She was what I call a low maintenance dog. She didn't eat much, didn't poop much. She didn't shed, didn't chew and didn't run. She could ride in the car for five hours at a pop without a stop. I can't say that for anyone else in the family. Even when LD and I brought up, on Sunday night, how we would decide whether or not to put her down, Liberty seemed like she wanted to take the burden of deciding from us and passed on early Monday morning.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We can find some solace in that we were with her until the end. With tears flowing I was able to feel her last heart beat.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Our brother-in-law, a multiple dog owner of many years, believes that you get one <em><strong>really</strong></em> good dog in your life. We were lucky to hit the jackpot with our first.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569230574899509122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4wjnJFwmMC1x21JYCRlm9D_O2ssdrCiYrNi5hkJO73Mab6_UKoKBmOMTjIC75p1W7WbR1tWhxm4DMq5Pnvs-jJ5v9zuHNipZ4Mj2B7u2aXHKeLsNfIEUWDYyQJyB5eam27iGXdWbRzPK/s320/first+day+005.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">We will place her collar and a few toys in a box and bury it next to Grampa's lake up north where she liked to swim and where she just about drowned one summer trying to swim out to our boat in the middle of the lake.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Hopefully, she is being a good girl where she is now and can wait patiently for her family to come home.</span><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569226257731345506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihT5u2NBPILmhAlLQ4kuEjw_HUbK8twEuZZG3BGb2rIMof7TtEEQa8ZAyl5n94zPD9OR1FCYsFaKzVZz2ZSlsLwDhV4qNBmoSOugv9anXPowTuX4oTxzVXl1W_Sxr26JOsN2NGT7GbRsu/s320/xmas2008+001.jpg" /> </p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Liberty Bell </span><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">7-4-1995 to 1-24-2011</span> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-46776697199924807002011-01-08T04:37:00.001-06:002011-01-08T16:49:03.089-06:00All Hail the Plow!<span style="font-size:130%;">Every year our favorite snow plow driver, Ronnie, pushes a large pile of snow in our cul-de-sac. Over the last few years the kids have delivered cookies and drawings to Ronnie on the job, which has probably led to our favored snow status. I have chronicled snow hills of the past, (<a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/02/real-winter.html">click here</a>, <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/12/return-of-snowhill.html">here</a>, and <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/12/son-of-snowhill.html">here</a>) but this year, Ronnie outdid himself. We were blessed with an early heavy snowstorm and our snow hill grew to about twenty feet high or so. The largest mountain we have ever had the privilege to be king of. The kids immediately took my best spades and started tunnelling. With this hill's size the kids were able to honeycomb their mound like a sponge.</span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uW26aPQHAwTMN_ZVlHJxycxGLJVOVzMnZtS7KlQsn1glfPjl9bocms1u2aqceOJVvLZCtJh7JDny20sWPgVeZLqfXXKX1oicBAcNQdsN8fNgiA_JMo_X9m2eTKRgwZE5OC-gR0EyEKsL/s1600/party+piano+001.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553682691231825282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uW26aPQHAwTMN_ZVlHJxycxGLJVOVzMnZtS7KlQsn1glfPjl9bocms1u2aqceOJVvLZCtJh7JDny20sWPgVeZLqfXXKX1oicBAcNQdsN8fNgiA_JMo_X9m2eTKRgwZE5OC-gR0EyEKsL/s320/party+piano+001.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Every year we have to warn the kids that our snow hill won't last the winter. The city usually leaves our cul-de-sac mountains for a couple of weeks before they bring in the dump trucks to haul all the fun away.</span></p><span style="font-size:130%;">Well, last week Lady Di was in the kitchen when she heard the low rumble of trucks pulling into the street. "Uh-oh", she thought. "Better start warning Sweet Pea to avoid the meltdown."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">But it was too late. SP heard the trucks too and ran to the window.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"No, no, no, no, no, no,...", repeated all the way up the stairs to her room. Her window over looks the front of the house so it has a direct view of our soon to be smaller snow hill.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">LD then got on the hot line to our neighbor, Deb who also just happens to be friends with our plow driver, Ronnie. "Deb, you better call Ronnie on his cell or we're gonna have troubles!", relayed LD. Deb answered with, "I'm on it!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">About a half hour later, Ronnie shows up with his loader. We know it's his job and we know the snow has to be cleared for safety, so we can't really blame him. Plus, chances are we will probably get more snow this winter anyway. As Ronnie drove into our dead end, he stopped and studied our hill. Then he went to work. He carefully scooped as much snow as he could from all around the base of our giant snow cone. That filled one dump truck. Then with even greater care, he started slicing the sides of our snow like a sculptor shaving away layers of marble on his way to carving a masterpiece. When the last dump truck was filled, we were left with our honeycomb in it's entirety, but now it rested on a smooth round base. Much like an Easter egg drying on a ring of cardboard. Ronnie had filled his quota of dump trucks, but left the best part of the hill towering high.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Before he left, SP ran down the stairs and out the door without even putting on her coat in the cold 13 degree air. LD, caught unaware, quickly put on her boots and went out to retrieve SP. By the time she opened the door, SP was just returning to the front porch. She was carrying a large piece of paper. On the paper, SP had colored a large 'Thank You' and was holding it up for Ronnie to read.</span><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuqUHxzgbV7nHxuaRG_qdUthvbVbwInNZ7C02brMpzX6XckvOQhO9bSEmvHc-cajKyYPwqhAQDcVd7ImkhhAMygSBXBExqzjLlPFJH1xUeWmXXsWb5Xs4AwSWXW19p2R3i_ThL-bjlTFD/s1600/party+piano+022.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553682992488116386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuqUHxzgbV7nHxuaRG_qdUthvbVbwInNZ7C02brMpzX6XckvOQhO9bSEmvHc-cajKyYPwqhAQDcVd7ImkhhAMygSBXBExqzjLlPFJH1xUeWmXXsWb5Xs4AwSWXW19p2R3i_ThL-bjlTFD/s320/party+piano+022.jpg" /></a></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Since then, the kids have dug a cave below their tunnels to give their pile an 'Old Man Winter' face. Hopefully, he will be able to stay around awhile longer.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thanks again, Ronnie. We really appreciate it.</span></p>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-43548908654538387352010-12-27T04:48:00.010-06:002010-12-27T11:20:04.619-06:00A Christmas Message<span style="font-size:130%;">Merry Christmas to one and all. I hope that everyone enjoyed their celebrations as much as our family did.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Now since I'm sure you are all sitting on pins and needles, filled with anxiety about the happenings of our Christmas adventures, I will relate our entire holiday itinerary for your enjoyment and fullfillment.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Actually, I just have one small bit of interest about our Christmas Eve night. We started Chistmas Eve by going to our 7pm church candlelight service. We really enjoy our<span style="color:#003300;"> </span><a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/03/live-long-and-prosper.html"><span style="color:#003300;">church</span></a>. So much so, that two years ago, when our church needed new hymnals, we bought three of them and donated them to the church in memory of two of my grandfathers and one of Lady Di's grandfathers all of whom had passed in recent years. That was two years ago and we have yet to find one of those hymnals during service. It doesn't help that we always sit in one of two pews at the front of the church. But I still check the inside cover of the hymnals there just in case the ushers, for some reason, decide to rotate the stock every once in a while.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So back to our Christmas Eve service. It was much like past Chrismas Eve services. We sang carols and everyone got to light their little candles while singing Silent Night. This part is the kids' favorite and every year we recite the proper candle lighting procedure. Never tip a lighted candle! Then we view the reason for such a rule, a tiny spot of melted wax on the seat of the pew just in front of where Number One Son stands. This family tradition goes back about five years or so when N1S was less diligent about his flame.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Just as the service was wrapping up, Lady Di noticed that the 9pm service would feature a choir selection and a song by a quartet including a student home from college that we know to have a very good singing voice.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">LD then said, "Oh we will have to come back for the 9pm service."</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S and I both turned simultaneously and whispered with incredulity, "Not two churches in one night!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Sweet Pea's face lit up because she would get a second chance to play with fire.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So we went home to relax a little before we returned to church. We couldn't even change out of our church clothes! The drive back to the church was a little grumbly from half of us. But N1S and I put on a happy Christmas face and made the best of it. Since we had already heard the sermon, we decided to sit closer to the middle of the congregation. We found a nice couple that we knew to sit with. We enjoyed the choir selection and were quite impressed with the quartet. As we waited for the ushers to start the candle lighting, I noticed the hymnals in front of us. I said, "What the heck.", and opened it. On the inside cover was placed an offical looking sticker stating, <em>This hymnal donated in memory of <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2008/05/things-my-grandfather-said.html"><span style="color:#000099;">Emery (Pete) Bell</span></a></em>, my paternal grandfather.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I passed the open hymnal to Lady Di, who was so proud of herself for not tearing up during the 7pm candlelighting, and made her immediately well up with emotion and ask for a hanky. Then Sweet Pea saw her name (she is named after this grampa) and passed the hymnal down the pew to show the couple we were sitting next to.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">What were the chances that we would attend a second church service, on Christmas Eve, and choose that particular pew to find one of our donated hymnals for the first time?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It made pastor's message about the importance of family even more meaningful.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">With all the blessings we have been fortunate enough to enjoy, this warm Christmas message from our loved one will make this year one of our most memorable Christmas Eves.</span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-12594704100225466212010-12-22T07:37:00.008-06:002010-12-22T20:13:26.920-06:00Live Long and Decorate<span style="font-size:130%;">Christmas is almost here. Are you ready? Have all of the cards been sent? Presents wrapped? Cookies made? And then eaten? And then made again?</span><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Well, in order to save some time with this year's preparation, Number One Son volunteered to put up one of our Christmas trees. As you may remember from posts past, we usually decorate <a href="http://lbsimba.blogspot.com/2007/12/if-tree-falls-in-den.html"><span style="color:#006600;">three Christmas trees</span></a>. In early December, with Sweet Pea's help, I was able to assemble, light and decorate two of our trees but ran out of weekend for the last one. So as another busy Sunday night had us running Sweet Pea to volleyball practice, I offered N1S a project to keep him from thinking about the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> time he had already spent.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">"While we are gone, you can put up the tree to help me out.", I asked.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Surprisingly, he said OK.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">On the drive back home, I wondered what kind of job N1S did. Would the small branches be on the bottom? Would anything break? How bad would the tree lean?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">My fears, however, were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">unnecessary</span>.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553689140976927202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVrT2oB7pE0ulmQd2AYiPfx-f1uKXpy5kjDbVnMLkaxbDDGdSN3CdPyEgkwpsDHbWJ8CpvPTPtuDOQs19eT6q8D_5QoAv7jmyAUuoXWzjCT6z4oei0rRdKakUOMc-3SQXF5qYBbjv-jnB/s320/Elves+2010+004.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">He did a pretty good job. It even looked like he started to shape a few of the branches. Like maybe about three. But then decided on the natural scraggly look with bare spots to show off the metal pole.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553689791856483570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_Ez4Jx85Wo97uXIjO6j3-ZMUFaMs1XYv3QtjIEwMu5QMoJ0q8Y4gr903xEGslRTBqeri44Pnz7_BkwZyCM2QIyNqPVDR7_Q8NbpIDFVRPBnioWNkY7ea6aZ34Qso2kU6UG0qArzE5yxe/s320/Elves+2010+005.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">And just like any good assembly job, you always are left with a few spare parts right? I asked, "Wouldn't these three branches fit?"</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Distractedly he answered from the couch, "Oh I don't know. They must have been extra."</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">I thanked him anyway for saving me time and effort this season. We decorated the trees the same way as last year. The only difference being that Sweet Pea did most of the kid tree decorating.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553691228475473186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vJK7TxUw6csj_mvqLEXRWbhCTWeaFiaYXJKjnp0IH90Yr5HdROuN6T-8uP8mH0XupyvqMByfADeeJT27q3xlf1Uvk540IBnafpAEz7iRF_wBVQLtkKoibkbJnRonjiuOhLU2mMD3eRdx/s320/Elves+2010+007.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">If you look closely you'll notice that Mr. Spock must have gotten a puppy from Santa this year to help him at his science station.</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553691772395963154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7crx7DH-POYtHtoPEYhXq8FikQgmhJ_Z7Zg4PdblwS8evrlYRDKK2wGFosjw7_QMLVvibrBzMeUSnkxFeF9BxThAxFdSueyqOC2jtaBnGhSP3BphDz7Wrm2y3xRMRLeaRGJrJE68Zesoj/s320/Elves+2010+008.jpg" />As did Dr. McCoy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">So boldly celebrate Christmas, where no one has celebrated before!</span></p></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-77026763265127202112010-12-17T03:22:00.001-06:002010-12-18T14:04:47.589-06:00Sixth Grade Wilderness<span style="font-size:130%;">Last month I was <em>lucky</em> enough to be chosen to chaperon N1S's sixth grade field trip to <a href="http://www.llcc.org/">LLCC</a> wilderness camp. N1S's three day, two night, sleeping in a dorm, in late November, in Minnesota with 100 other sixth graders, field trip. Was I chosen to chaperon or was I hoodwinked into it?</span><br /><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The forecast for those three days was 20 to 30 degrees F with a chance for snow each day. The A group of sixth graders that went two weeks earlier had temps in the 60's with sunshine.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Despite the cool weather, we still had a lot of fun and weren't really that uncomfortable.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We started our adventure with a two hour bus ride. As bus rides go, this one started out fairly civilized. Halfway through we visited a rest stop to stretch our legs. That only proved to wake up the louder kids in the back of the bus who started 'singing' Christmas carols. The closer we got to the campground, the louder the singing became. The crooning had crescendoed to shouting by the time we reached our destination.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">When the bus stopped, one of the teachers cleverly chose six volunteers to help unload the suitcases and bags from the trailer. It was surprising how many of the 'best' singers were chosen for such an honor.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Once unpacked, we were directed to the mess hall where KP was explained. I tried to bring some of the KP excitement home with me but N1S must have lost it on the bus.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552093469661776834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAePWUOnzB1Q9YBZ16C_KXHCVU-pR98NQUYpPAKnVh6EG4Y59t4C35Ol-mb6PVIJsdt6iVklJMRrso_7kG2XqKYnlBJkN4SMcvBgVnLvk6wCquPySUKqYm596hrgLO2oDFUKiHBT3n8adJ/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+070.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Here are our table mates from table nine. The rockinest table at camp! Everyone said so.<br /></span><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">For two and a half days we were scheduled from 8am to 9pm. We went on a bog hike. Yes, that's a hike through the bog. Not a swamp, and not a wetland. We learned that those are totally different. With the snow it was a pretty hike though.</span></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552094428697802194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsWC8cpYkGLuRYqvAa_lXkfV-b7JCYO9DyMkoh1ljGjGieLh3nCirP9UF1PqtqyGMBjQ-lASuNgYw1NaPSwddUz_sx7A6s4nmsjtnzaYbdFG08Af6SiBxZGhP51sPDFGLi1VQy5s1mPVB/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+036.jpg" /></div></div></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This was where our guide got us lost in the bog. Apparently, she hadn't been on bog duty for a while and the new snow made the multiple trails confusing. She ended up calling for backup and one of the staff members back at camp rang the school bell to point us in the right direction home.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">One of the activities that all the kids were buzzing about was archery. Quite a few arrows hit their targets, many more ended up in the woods.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552097824816652450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6EcU5G4mLa4DoKVGfODfa8tX820ma8xJtbKDwIyaJC63vjtKC2FW68E_RJaEyfVJtjjvOljYzcQlubtlRnL38UzR5g_JMvB3QpU914n_1L55vHxwpPY0r9ecoVTC3aKCAVjVx7OYjyAj/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+055.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">I was just glad N1S loaded the pointy end away. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The kids also got to make a wilderness lunch. They had to gather their own wood, light their own fire and roast their own hot dogs. I think by the time the sticks got stacked and the birch bark lit, the kids were so hungry they only <em>warmed</em> their hot dogs in the smoke of their fire.<br /></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552098932639276002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXgHhycR7c85p311cHiEP2IkUd4eC5jDGBTHWRw8l9CC1YRVlN1ff8oyPMg0aGhbnJVibWto1IItRPbwtlf7sRkQl5hiG5f41MeAXZsMGydX850XWCZ4rCvk4QXABVdp9u8pZgCRh4XhP/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+049.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I think they are either waiting for someone to make a decision or for the fire to start itself.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">For the last night we were there, the camp hosted a rendezvous. This was to demonstrate how pioneer trappers and traders would get together and celebrate with games like arm wrestling and tug of war standing on stumps. Just when the volume of the room had reached its peak with squealing and shouting sixth graders, the staff introduced leg wrestling. The parents in the room quickly exited to spare themselves the gruesome outcome of such an idea.</span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552100044119231730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFRFPBy2kGonN4eyG3KmrcSRzO71fKL3q1kWR-SMvc_555MHH-Mijts57xcxx6-gFCBK7CTykAR8PJ3rjDa68J-129noJDbogEv8gjVIR09LW5fh-vwjlU8jF_rmj0nEopwX92Pk_fQbj/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+045.jpg" />Luckily, no one lost a tooth or an eye and the rendezvous was a success in getting the kids all riled up before lights out.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">On the last morning of our last day the staff hosted an orienteering race. Kids used a compass to find their way to checkpoints in the woods and race back to base with their card checked.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552101581274034418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpUNfo16lr2ZRlcwNUsn6lpM65PWbu1Nq_IC6uiUE4cAP7IjF2Utd77OHZZlzbnAcviQIpaNkEuybR1KU7jQUpFouOGusCW3Lrw9e9ESHkFOiS5cwqvF8bL0JmOtHcNBGoVPqSdSb2G3L/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+066.jpg" /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S placed second in his group. You can hum the theme song from 'Chariots Of Fire' if you want to.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Despite the cold weather, I think N1S had a fun time. And despite having to keep one hundred plus sixth graders from doing anything that would get on the local news, I think the parents had a good time too. N1S and I both got to meet and interact with new friends. And I am very proud of N1S for using good judgement and good friendship skills for his first overnight camp.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552102875889843282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukJt_T7UR6RT2bzhFszC78rFnEpKksfJHYpKbrmt97FDeTMFG_LuLlADcl3nUx5A8-_YQLFja9TZKCiQTP46XboE6NQlcKhv-x6UjqxtFLleDwPe7RaY_qBYYVUKquyeavibKyoKvQkmi/s320/Annie+LLCC+2010+031.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Yo, peace out y'all!</span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-59315573807858568712010-12-04T10:31:00.005-06:002010-12-04T19:49:12.791-06:00Is The School Haunted?<span style="font-size:130%;">A few months ago, Lady Di was nice enough to accompany her mother to the Mayo Clinic while she underwent some tests. This required an overnight stay for Lady Di, leaving me in charge of the kids.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">First thing on the list was to let the kids talk me into going out to the Chinese Buffet for supper. As we sat in our booth enjoying our sweet and sour whatevers, a dad and his son sat in the booth next to us. Number One Son said, "Don't look, but that kid is kinda strange. He goes to my school."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And any parent of an<span style="color:#ff6600;"> </span><a href="http://www.aspergers.com/"><span style="color:#ff6600;">Aspergers</span> </a>kid will know, that the act of N1S calling someone else strange is like Twitter calling Facebook a big waste of time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So I looked.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"That's not a nice thing to say about someone.", I answered.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"He's always acting like a dinosaur in school, but I guess he's a nice kid.", N1S amended.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Then N1S got up and went over to talk to the kid which was a nice thing to do. It was great to see him use skills he has learned in his friendship groups at school. Aspergers kids usually have difficulty interpreting social cues, which makes initiating and maintaining friendships a challenge. Perhaps a kid who acts like a dinosaur in sixth grade could also use an extra friend to say hi at the buffet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">While N1S was gone, Sweet Pea turned to me and said, "I bet that kid likes to scare people."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"I suppose that's what dinosaurs do, huh.", I concurred.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"He probably hides somewhere and jumps out to scare people.", SP offered.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Why do you think he does that?", I queried.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Because he's the <em>ghost</em> of N1S's school.", was SP's answer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">After thinking for a minute, I realized what SP meant. I then explained that N1S said that the kid <em>goes</em> <em>to</em> his school, he's not the <em>ghost</em> of his school.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It seems that social cues aren't the only things that get misinterpreted in our family. </span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-70925293908929574892010-11-22T13:17:00.004-06:002010-11-22T17:45:46.155-06:00It's a Hard Knock Post!<span style="font-size:130%;">It's time again for my children's musical review. This is where I get to critique and rant about how the kids did in their most recent production, Annie Jr.. Actually, I usually just crow about them as any parent would. So get ready for some major proud parent crowing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">And speaking of crowing, N1S landed the part of Rooster and his little sister earned her role of orphan. While N1S had all of the funny lines, SP got more singing, dancing and stage time than her big brother.</span><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Both kids had a blast though. N1S got to unleash some of his comedic skills and SP got to sing out loud. And the show started out with a bang too. This production was by far the best the kids have been in. When all of the orphans sang 'It's A Hard Knock Life', it sounded like a professional group. You could tell the kids really practiced hard for this one. There were no weak links at all. People familiar with local children's theatre will know that sprinkled through out each show are a few forgotten, rushed or too quiet to hear lines. This show had none of those and quite a few well delivered performances from the entire cast.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542478199437413666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9QBXWCjIlSOwapT4QLqfMGxVWYMed23pE3jKa84X2IGPeO_AHFtRGTTuoo4eStvjm58qlV5E5LniTL58mYroIARE9szyLhu-8lyYIYBAKmKntJgpR3C0KkYcJPl9dRUiA_aY82OXe4ts/s320/Annie2010+029.jpg" /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Here, SP just finished showing how she has a hard knock life.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542479115448519778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5vAX79BEMz7FItdM6vscny0xv_Te89zn8_hH_wwXV6jANcJqVgZkPI5Ve62oC6nawH-fOgvFZuwL-zr16AEPtNag_o-5dZkzZg6SyFm1P_mB32ULkH8EboW2z7ldZH_8DCUtWbvwZ0vh/s320/Annie2010+024.jpg" /> All of the orphans sticking Miss Hannigan with a safety pin.<br /></span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542479887059584754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOkRatxZ9e_A6cApPsqiHFD5PCMFqdIEVaF8iR4SNtU5aTszi8PsgPPEWhlTPc97XJ4TmaLH_XrECyy9XEjwEmmo3B2sJxNl-KdixVcS-h3mraZKDK40NLb8iOIwN7GkoODPpzwYl5r_d/s320/Annie2010a+009.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">And then laughing at Miss Hannigan. The little brats.<br /></span><br /><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw7tok4PTrWJs8aUDRADSVclL3Z0N4iZYNnbNDEuCSaDSSV-CM_5ZVyfqrjZ_n2ZeKL4dMszfapGCjVu4Lq_g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Here is a short video of N1S's opening scene as Miss Hannigan's good for nothing brother, Rooster. The director told him to use a Jersey accent and he laid it on as thick as he could.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542483081112419842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1I32OB_IlquQM0gG7L7txdv-EjM0trfZDnfSIimeUDCwFxL59ppHoyu6av_OJjdPsyChsKXXEg0WEXbCpwqfRvW2WKEv-mbUJ4-9lPGqIS_Jvos8sOQiYaW6qJGwBVEek67Qs0Q2jas0z/s320/Annie2010+071.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S wanted a picture with one of his good friends that he has shared the stage with for six shows. I think he also wanted a picture of his mustache which he asked to keep after the show.</span></div><br /><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzEQ48ok9ll1ttdjjSRLkeY7BrY3vUj09AzL68ikWtNKZxTfFKOtIbSaIvZdkfP7Oj8mZND5vgnsERbgjWlLg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;">This is N1S's big moment on 'Easy Street'. Make sure your volume is on.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542485701510663634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVQ2iz6Qmyfq5lo8tdek_3bEj3ARsRTSiX8XRQ1FIp9GU67_gST8tQHtMwGSzImlIz5bKbIBade1yITDxFRC-qk1lDtreaX2hgmxN5E4oH4e_5RGHJPuPFToYxnqhAtMToQLAZZuzH40SE/s320/Annie2010+062.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">And, of course, the big finale, singing 'Tomorrow' with President Roosevelt.<br />I mentioned before how impressed I was with this production, but it seems I say that about all of them. Well, it's true every time I say it. I'm very thankful to <a href="http://www.actingoutstudio.org/"><span style="color:#000099;">Acting Out</span> </a>(click for more pictures) for providing such a quality opportunity for youths to express themselves in a fun and positive way. We are so proud of our kids and the benefit they are receiving from these experiences truly can't be measured. Especially for N1S. He is not athletic and struggles socially with some of his peers. But the stage has given him a sense of pride and accomplishment that he hasn't gotten anywhere else. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Thanks once again to Amy and Kristen for taking our kids under their wings and helping them soar.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">They aren't stopping here though. They will be appearing in their next musical <a href="http://www.actingoutstudio.org/">'The Elves and the Shoemaker' on Dec. 10th and 11th</a>, so save the date.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">And remember, you're never fully dressed without a smile.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542489494398797586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9Tq5K7ZgbsIrin7zHCxt0TJ_IrQurcyVlNs3KpKxOHxHMPXczC_XfTvTjOIdkdUStJPoqRLIKcLgfuihGq4LMnapZ0cvmk0Vj-FWHIPEkR-ikase1SmtGRaWs1X8fA8V9vuHif3ETKFT/s320/Annie2010+045.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">Or a fake mustache.</span>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-87506683851291103392010-11-14T09:31:00.004-06:002010-11-14T12:07:04.728-06:00Halloween Hangover<div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Halloween has come and gone, but like a Minnesota goodbye, I'm dragging the season out as long as possible. I finally got the last string of orange lights in the box and stowed in the attic this week. Remarkably, tearing down the decorations took a lot less time than the two weeks it took to properly haunt our front yard.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">So here is the official recap of our most favorite holiday.</span></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Our Halloween spirit got an early start with a cookie bake with the kids at the end of September. I waited a full week into October before hauling out the boxes and chests and cauldrons of happy horror. Here is a picture of our house mostly spookified. I had a few more bats and cobwebs to add before the big night. You can click on the picture to enlarge it if you dare.</span></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lCVf0744vuD2EuxU2jXCSxOcB0r0961K2sAuh8HEI18ENu8h9OZkpK_wJ094KumMEXDgJBycP7N41lqSzWouP5VPLq7Rx4M1WwqqOabVfy5Xw57F4kriZp8uCdG0fV9KbMvx-IjzgmCc/s1600/mums+015.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537729239995686066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lCVf0744vuD2EuxU2jXCSxOcB0r0961K2sAuh8HEI18ENu8h9OZkpK_wJ094KumMEXDgJBycP7N41lqSzWouP5VPLq7Rx4M1WwqqOabVfy5Xw57F4kriZp8uCdG0fV9KbMvx-IjzgmCc/s320/mums+015.jpg" /></a></p><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">I rigged the owl on the left to have light up orange eyes to match the orange flame bulbs around the archway.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537731860375034850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_-bMmSm3e-rdbDqsMyGOYawDL4QLDZoITKlMkyL9svt1CEVfEMCUIAPPaX95BY7qQQVmXVkaxp0GI15GmMJgp2vZQLk_L8-xXDR2ciAL-bWJkkkgbP_u1rqlALteoeyF3TVTWC4w7QCy/s320/mums+016.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">I, once again, unearthed a forgotten cemetery under our gallows tree. I put the same orange lights hanging loosely from the tree and added a black pumpkin with green lighted face.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537732867555097970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ux-KrLjFOk4GC7jhnwPWxumneTcCRXXrPVanqZBjRsL1BvcNRNiAdfitgAlhsV3dqh0XrZdN_Jz114vRf_kc4dKMeMv1hprtNI7915AVDGmfMHARVqDtL3UxeP2lC6zICSayZcV_Kht2/s320/fall+party+2010+006.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Last year's scarecrow flew into town on his broom just in time.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537733383080887666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hiX5kWeV7UWiARCKSvnly3r9Xp4UKnn-vqBMHKzC6e2IueQR2BysCXxvvston3ZPr7YIm2JosoW8YWk6NJctwnrGgtj-XrRdbIdv8j1uvIl4a9m-qmMd8XPJIQV3fnOpIW_yqjxCElnS/s320/mums+010.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">And then the windstorm hit. We had two days of wind gusts up to 60mph.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537733828077653186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3py6Jh5nbOdV1FMy21WrZHX9QtP36dsicvwxUqP12ZBGBmh0qliA0v2brxijyDpT1S8otZ-SohDkfnKH1aggDQWCsAJvuLGxZGpx-bvAUMi9QqeC92ElU9etVeK5ESNadUZPFqLIME-QG/s320/mums+011.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Poor Jack Scarecrow's post snapped in two.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537737910549931250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaarW5e4iK7jObAzGD73aqe7ddSx_23vi0i-uP4pUmWbBTzrNvmjwN8_icjZWozqa4rafrSJzJYxoz3H0uTZHlPQM5JqBJ4TmCfC_qZH_dEot_jSQ44O29b9osMifqwMvUDIIt4z0oQHt/s320/mums+013.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Even cute little Spidey-poo got tipped over.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">But don't worry, this story has a happy ending. The Great Pumpkin came through on the day before All Hallow's Eve and set everything right.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Now just a note about our pumpkins to wrap things up. I did a few new things with this year's jack-o-lanterns. I decided to put a string of purple lights in two of our larger pumpkins and have them flash on and off. It really worked great but I seemed to have lost the picture of them.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Since the lights worked so well, I put a single green bulb in this shark pumpkin.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539462537329099906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFUu7wrqep5gOABSBT9eL0HvJpki4_wClyjLrAvxXPkr_eKbbMjaSHWAizNV0X6d3k9fOu6AidZD0cI-0Pda3DVtSAL3nBGD3Q_XFmZx8ydMCFOlL9Y9OV6c0O_7rWXV5sCPnEC4wzOY7/s320/100_6174.JPG" /></div></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">N1S called this our disco ball pumpkin. I made it with two sizes of drill bits. The candlelight really did shine out like a disco ball.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539465434258679474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBExKe8Rq7GxIBoglwhM73_IIWK1KM2t_3WLfywl78Cu_J1TchmKzCpY3r37MbO8ghyuXe3B3zswvY8UH6Otp6GLZXKmaGLXwChwUVm-pJ6ewOAv401rCE1wxJ1OP-jI5jcFi38brzMn2/s320/100_6173.JPG" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">This is SP's small gray pumpkin that she named Squidward.</span><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539464765573679378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUK7FGPUBGvvrDJy5Z1pEb1OoBrX9En6W05FBWBvGdjQPmJkybcasLRd7T-xcI9cgjVPIz-r8-L-NNwjTugZuAbYMhACexT4nUxHcgc_1v_ETBtPyXOT7Dntgdjf_wXixvuADq4vmFC5_9/s320/100_6165.JPG" /></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">And about five or six other jack-o-lanterns filled up the remaining empty spots in the yard. Next year I may skip the tall skinny pumpkins because they are just too hard to clean out. I'll also allow about three extra hours for N1S to design his jack-o-lantern. SP finished three faces to his one.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Well, only 300 odd days until our next haunting. But less than two month until the next house decorating. If you live in Minnesota, I hope you already have your Christmas lights on the roof.</span></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539465793228315554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LLd3aNYSqGecGiHTjinBuGLtzxYWz7grwudpIejVZWsDiBtKxIet6hztzzKDOQLa1sO2D-OI5dgB01hmoM87Y6ha7VnidDguVl0yTX3xrvIwHpwkWaRo9g5QIOMSP9O3l7lf_MGG1o4J/s320/100_6169.JPG" /></div></div></div></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-5933262589278912922010-10-29T09:02:00.005-06:002010-10-29T16:13:14.359-06:00Ghosts In The Graveyard<span style="font-size:130%;">We just can't wait for Halloween, so Lady Di and I helped Sweet Pea host a Fall party for some of her friends. There were no costumes so it wasn't a Halloween party. But the decorations, food and games definitely had a Halloween theme.</span> <div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The weather threatened rain, but thankfully held off.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">We started the night with a community service. A friend of ours sends small bags of treats overseas to a charity which distributes them to underprivileged kids. Our first party game was an assembly line bag filling contest.</span></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533587584083285250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOliUONS49PsulN9jrIQzJAX8VsgXGz4ZYwArYwVfbHFdYlQeVXKYzOw2CGgZBjRzmDlnULECaqhAKRnXc1myCNgKHo3Y37JZ9iOeTpiA12eK5dZuLd5bFeqq2chJla1jf7uub6BCSE6f/s320/fall+party+2010+007.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Sweet Pea must have thought this was the 'make a face' picture.</span></div><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;">Then the girls got to decorate their own treat bags to be filled later. The markers, stickers and beads entertained them for a while, but they started to get antsy. So we quickly moved on to boo bingo. Which is just like regular bingo except I would randomly sneak up behind a girl and yell boo at them. Number One Son assisted by running the bingo calling. And thank goodness he did. Not only did he buy us some time to sweep up stray beads and clean up wayward stickers, but he really had the girls entertained by building suspense before each call. He got them all cheering and groaning as a group for every call.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533588051857523746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cHAWX_HkgpZwV5M0yIjq-plJYf6-7L3Co1SoPr0g0ghngPxNI0L9phGevp_YUOTHHJusMF8X8HPL-WTGs7afM1dVpmPceNrqOErr4y_J7THueGpSvebZSBmDka8Z1eG9epEG5nDvpV8I/s320/fall+party+2010+023.jpg" /></span></p><div><span style="font-size:130%;">After all of the excitement and drama of boo bingo, we brought out the pizza and witches punch. Lady Di froze a pair of 7up filled vinyl gloves to float in the red punch bowl. One finger even broke off for effect.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Next was dessert. But the girls had to earn it. We hung three strings from the ceiling and tied donuts to them. So with hands behind their backs, each girl giggled and hopped and used their fishmouths to pull, lift or tear their dessert down.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533589068846100594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMOx2LbrqbIwKh6yK-0NaLR5fvzXzw_FAiFQzWzPwCCxvVAIOkJ9hWyDowjz1XK-Hu8SbFJDFGFVR4lKNmbBHriJcYfAyrbV4U0WYvyvDcSD1ZKAoJRe6KaFzq_l5jK95rUWlLFo55TeF/s320/fall+party+2010+025.jpg" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533589464865229954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6jftbqvYgwErbc6XF524HDmtxY-IX-y02CWJ4vUVbglAzAKpyPMxJSHlfDEXl9Mq71oROFGoVrJwdHpvQLuEC_EVKwCzrIEbn8AFurw95d21brxNyd2C4QAQbCa6ZojjP-iiWNU2aipE/s320/fall+party+2010+024.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:130%;">Once their desserts were devoured, we needed to cool the girls down. Time to bob for apples! Some girls were clever enough to grab the apple stem. </span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533590279426000418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0iDd04LuKNY_LzRQnZ9n0KkbaswAr3dQMuUJU_S2lus_zeMQCiQYk6t6SHg_LZD76YbYPBpwY-19YSi2vZJnrnoaFGff5damtbQLPRxH-V5zb4ocYkYkxuK-MhJ8ftJVzWKiEKI6bEr_/s320/fall+party+2010+032.jpg" /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">A few girls got a good face washing. Some had eyes as big as apples when they came up with fruit in their teeth.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533589886968085458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEc0roBmVC-aQX2JEoV7uahujAxWAub1OpI2Mf2mpi14GMKwLs8XI6ewnchPfYcdyrmdHu2NAXc4f0dPZUcCUlURqWbA3gJFyAd25ijqomIpKNOvii3wNTb9S_Z2HuO2WgYrvCEY96EOJ/s320/fall+party+2010+010.jpg" /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Next was walk the plank. We do this game for most of the kids' parties. Each girl was blindfolded and led up the plank and told to jump at the end. The object is to make the girls think they are walking up to a height greater than the six inch rise of the plank. Some of the girls knew what was coming. Some girls didn't want to jump but laughed when they found out the trick. One girl actually looked forward to jumping blindly into a deep pit and was disappointed when the truth was revealed.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">By now it was dark enough for the bonfire. I got a roaring blaze going and settled into a lawn chair to enjoy the dancing flames. Unfortunately, I was alone in my interest. The girls decided to play Ghost in the Graveyard instead. Which is basically tag in the dark. And instead of counting to twenty, the 'it' person counts the hours to midnight.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">But they must have tired just before the party ended, because they eventually gravitated to the fire like moths and told ghost stories. I threw a few color flame packets into the fire for the girls to ooh and ahh at the green, purple and blue show.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">At 8 o'clock the parents came to retrieve their goblins. Fortunately, there weren't any fights and all the girls got along and all participated. I hope they all had fun and I was very impressed by their good manners.</span></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533591179335905794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuRX4SRyOV9McaVZRrKl6T_FhQ0XureDETJIKNHiTkZdqtyCGVzZqFqHc1vAj9nMW2XSZT00MidC_5OWRNv_usvLI1iCe_djB2G0UYKXrmQj1tELrkZY0IhF2fJcnwDL9s96e3_BvskkF/s320/fall+party+2010+017.jpg" /><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you Lady Di for putting on such a great event. And thank you for letting me cleanup the leftover pizza.</span></div></div></div></div></div>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7630226820599519741.post-12974576337367411962010-10-16T18:21:00.010-06:002010-10-16T20:56:10.311-06:00The Season for Sugar<div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">A couple of weeks ago I got impatient for Halloween to come so I tried to hurry it along. I consulted the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook for inspiration. SP and I decided to tackle cut out cookies.</span><br /></div><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lady Di has a killer set of cookie cut outs for <em>every</em> season.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">I think another reason I wanted to make cookies was to actually see these bad boys in action instead of just sitting in the cut out tote in the cupboard.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">We got all of the Halloween cut outs ready. Frankenstein Head, ghost, pumpkin, bat, cat and skeleton. The skeleton cut out was actually a gingerbread man. But with some creative frosting, bones and skulls appeared.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">SP and I teamed up to take on the recipe. I read the ingredients and measurements. SP measured and mixed. She even cracked her own egg. I still have trouble keeping the shells out.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">After mixing the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients I put the dough in the fridge to wait of three hours.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">"What?!", cried SP.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">"You have to let the dough sit to rise or age or just let the ingredients get to know each other well and get their cookie game plan figured out. Or something like that.", I informed her. "It just says so in the cookbook."</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">It was also a learning experience for me. I have cut out cookies before but I have never actually prepared cookie dough before. I was surprised to find out that the recipe didn't include opening a tube. But using the mixer was quite fun. Did you know that raising the mixer above the bowl while set on high will fling dough quite a ways? I also learned too late that you need to put flour on <em>everything</em> unless you want dough sticking to everything. It stuck to my hands, the roller, the cutting board and the spatula. Luckily, the dough stuck to itself and kept the shape it was cut into and out came Halloween cookies. </span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">We found out that the larger the cut out, the fewer cookies came out of the dough. So once a Frankenstein head and a ghost were cut, the remaining dough got filled up with smaller bat patterns. We ended up with a whole caveful of bats.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">The next step was even more fun and more sticky. The frosting.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lady Di set up the most vivid orange, green and black frosting. We also got out the orange and black sprinkles. The first few cookies received much artistic attention to detail from the kids. Then when they saw the large pile left to frost, many cookies only earned one color of frosting each. Once the pile of cookies dwindled to only a few, the kids were tired of frosting and these cookies got a glob of each color of frosting to empty the bowls and swirled them all together producing an olive green brownish shade befitting the holiday.</span></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDclnb3gqKy8TaFMBcXlAj2StiljYs9TMaPBF4xg8V_4qUSIuJ7xdmhv6DgutE5V0I7mEP5A3hP109vrqQiWPPU7EbJY4YKRV11sYMaxp1p0UW1VqZHg-oJms8-9w1rUoixfuggJ25ASl/s1600/bedroom+raking+002.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528828122680410498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDclnb3gqKy8TaFMBcXlAj2StiljYs9TMaPBF4xg8V_4qUSIuJ7xdmhv6DgutE5V0I7mEP5A3hP109vrqQiWPPU7EbJY4YKRV11sYMaxp1p0UW1VqZHg-oJms8-9w1rUoixfuggJ25ASl/s320/bedroom+raking+002.jpg" /></a></p><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Here's a sample of our creations. They range from cookies with a half inch of frosting and sprinkles to the duck shaped cookie on the right with one black frosting dot for an eye.<br /></div></span><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Once our desserts were prepared, we all enjoyed one cookie of our choosing. They were so good we treated ourselves to another. The rest found their way to the freezer. For some reason, once the cookies retired to the freezer, the kids completely forgot about them. So just to make sure they didn't spoil, I checked in on them regularly for the past two weeks.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">Which necessitates the preparation of a new batch today.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528829005000455730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelfQg8nSqFrgaT0QXYDxLiwSRx17lc75zVIJxV1bnJVramo_5-ZTqQaUf1gC4B2J1_K_xF-U_8F4-pZF4H6WYEPDAuACjalLQ4M_VQJhUMoyx4l3z7l22IWyho4DOEY1X0oLEIlEDdFAN/s320/bedroom+raking+001.jpg" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Early Halloween.</span></p>Dad Stuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11276260199734322800noreply@blogger.com2