Go Knights!

Last week was Homecoming Week for our school district. During Homecoming week, every day had a different theme. Sweet Pea was very diligent in reminding us of each day's theme. She had PJ day, rock star day and wacky hair day. And with SP's long hair, the wackiness that Lady Di designed, took about 30 minutes to prepare.

Number One Son's week had similar daily themes. Although, his school included an Erkel day. Firstly, N1S had to ask us who Erkel was. When he found out it was 'nerd' day, he asked me to help him find clothes. Now why would he think I knew anything about nerd clothes? I didn't have the heart to tell him that 'nerd day' was yesterday and everyone at school loved his costume.

Just kidding.

So Friday came and we all were excited to see the football game. Well, N1S and I were excited. SP asked Mom if she could just stay home with her. Which Lady Di was all in favor of, except for the fact that N1S and SP got invited to a friend's house for a pre-homecoming party. When it was time for the game, we picked up the boys from the party to drive them to the game. SP and her friend stayed at the party.

The boys had extra Dr. Pepper fueled school spirit that led them all to paint their faces in school colors.

With faces like those, there was no chance our team would lose.

The evening's weather, however, was not playing fair. The temperature hovered in the upper forties with a cold wind blowing misty/drizzly/rain around. The grandstand's aluminum bench seats are uncomfortable in perfect weather, but when they are cold and wet, you find out just how strong your school support is.

The only true damper to our spirits came when N1S and his group of friends were stopped by a teacher at the game and told to wash off their face paint. Apparently, full face paint is against school policy, due to an unidentifiable game crashing streaker at last year's game. Although, I did see many other kids with similar faces so I asked N1S about that.

He said in a disgusted way, "Yeah, there's only like two teachers at the whole game telling people to wash their faces!". Lucky him, I guess.

Even so, he and his friends had a good time. This was the first game we just let him run on his own. Our team played well too and was ahead 28 to 0 at halftime. After that, the weather was too powerful against our school spirit. We left halfway through the third quarter like quite a few fans. Football players may like to play in cold rain, but fans generally dislike it.

At the end of the night, we gathered both kids and they pretty much fell asleep on their way to bed.

Oops! He Did It Again.

This weekend the weather was cold, rainy and windy. A perfect day for an unimaginably long run through the streets of Minneapolis to St. Paul. Or so our nephew, Kubes, thought. This Sunday, Kubes again ran in the Twin Cities marathon. I think this is Kubes' fourth or fifth marathon, so I'm telling everyone it's his eleventh.

Ever the good aunt, Lady Di called him the night before to give him his pep talk. I was just going to tell him to 'run fast'. I also had a piece of advice handed down by my never reticent, Grampa Pete. He would always tell me, "If you get tired of walking, you can always run a ways."

This Sunday morning after church, Lady Di ventured to St. Paul to be at the finish line when Kubes came sprinting by. Kubes estimated about three hours to finish the race so LD would be there at the right time. Kubes official time was three hours and five minutes. I can't believe he was so insensitive to make his poor aunt wait five whole minutes for him.

Still, we are very proud of him and hope he continues to impress us with even lower times.

Lady Di was also inspired by many other runners. Three of our neighbors ran and finished strong. Two other runners ran barefoot. See Kubes, I told you, you should've brought a box of thumbtacks just in case. LD saw a husband and wife team finish hand in hand then break down and cry with each other. Lady Di needed all of her self restraint to keep from jumping the fence and adding her tears to theirs. I know if LD and I had run together, I would have had tears too. But I would have had them at the four and half mile marker from my side ache. LD also cheered on a dad pushing his daughter in her racing wheelchair. It reminded her of the dad from the CAN video. LD was so moved by the day that she vowed to bring more Kleenex tissues next year.

The weather and homework prevented the kids and I from attending. Maybe next year we will get the opportunity to root for our fastest nephew again. Who knows, maybe LD and I will be running side by side with Kubes. For the first hundred feet or so.

Homecoming King

This post doesn't involve a cute picture of our kids. It won't have a witty retelling of an embarrassing moment. What it does contain, is an inspiring and touching story of some great kids from Montivideo, MN.

This story aired on our local news tonight. Lady Di and I both had trouble keeping our eyes dry.
This video shows the love and respect this student body has for one of its classmates. It makes me proud to live in the same state as these kids. And inspires me with hope for the future. A future of acceptance and empathy. I would feel blessed if our kids grew up to be as compassionate as the kids from this school.
I'm sure many parents will connect with this student's parents.
Here is the link if you are interested.
http://www.wcco.com/video/?id=67796@wcco.dayport.com

I'm Ready For My Closeup.

We recently were the recipients of good news in our home. We found out that both kids received parts in the upcoming fall musical. Sweet Pea used her sugary sweetness, combined with booty shakin' choreography at her audition to win over the directors with a song she learned at Girl Scouts. Number One Son sang a few verses of 'If I Only Had a Brain'. He hid a piece of cotton in his hand to pull out of his ear for the 'head all full of stuffin' verse which wowed the judges. And it must have worked because he got one of the lead roles again this year. SP got a part as a dancer in her first production.

Both kids are excited for the play this year. The show they are in is called Alms For the Poor. Sounds like another light hearted romp, huh?

Actually, it was written by the main director of our local children's productions. Two years ago, N1S was in the show 3-6-9 Kid about the Holocaust which she also authored. We like that this director is brave enough to try some serious subjects along with comedies.

This theatre season started out a little rocky for N1S. He contracted the flu and had to miss the first practice. But don't worry, Sweet Pea went to practice and forgot her script, songbook and music CD there, just like he usually does on the first night. Luckily, N1S recovered by the end of the week to make his appearance at the second practice. Mom and Dad also went to gather up all of the needed paperwork.

Since this is N1S's fourth production, he has quite a few friends that have been in previous shows with him. I guess he's one of the big-wigs now since he's in fifth grade. At least we think he's a big-wig. This year the play was open for kids in second through eighth grade for auditions.

Sweet Pea, on the other hand, has always thought of herself as a big-wig. After N1S's performance in Hansel and Gretel last year, SP walked up to the director and told her that she was going to be in next year's play. Well, I guess she was right. As I said, she is a dancer in this play. After the first practice, we found out that the director also offered her a small solo. This information comes from SP, so we don't know if it is a solo dance, song or Shakespearean sonnet. So now she's an even bigger-wig. She has attended two whole practices and has already complained that sometimes she gets tired dancing so much. And sometimes she doesn't like to practice with the 'little kids'. The 'little kids' being, other kids the same age as her. Diva behavior already? Next, she will be asking for a dressing room with Cheetos in bowls with serving spoons. Personally, I think she is finding out that being in a play involves a little bit of work along with the fun.

So hopefully, N1S can stay healthy enough to make it to opening night. And hopefully, SP will dance even without getting a private trailer with a star on the door.

My little Diva and her Bodyguard.

And I.....E-I.....E-I.....will always love yooooooou!

Friday Night Lights

October is a wonderful month for many reasons. The change of seasons, colorful foliage and, of course Halloween are just some of the benefits enjoyed by our tenth month.

Another reason, and one of my favorites, is football season.

I enjoy football at all levels. I, of course, put aside my requisite 2 to 3 hours every Sunday to follow the Vikings. Although, sometimes I only use about 1 hour to actually watch the game and fill the rest of the time with a nap.

On Saturdays I like to spend the day in the yard or garage listening to multiple college football games on the radio.

But the best football, in my mind, is played on Friday night. I love high school football games. I was fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to play football in high school. Along with all of the bruises and sore muscles, I received many memories and enjoyed many friendships from those four years long ago.

Our high school football teams had our up and down years, but I valued each year equally high. My high school was rather small compared to most. My graduating class had an enrollment of thirty. With such a small talent pool to choose from, our teams gave our athletes their money's worth of playing time.

Our numbers would fluctuate so much that we would switch back and forth from 11-man to 9-man football every other year. One year we even played an 8-man game. In my sophomore year, our team was still in rebuilding mode and suffered more injuries than usual. On the last game of the season we travelled to our opponent's field with thirteen players to play an eleven man game. So simple math will tell you that all but two players started and played on offence and defence. And out of the two players left on the sidelines, only one of them could play because the other freshman forgot his hip pads at home. Luckily, he didn't have to play. But we did have one injury in that game that required our last eligible player to enter the battle. Across the field, the other team lined up with around thirty extra players. They had plenty but wouldn't loan any to us. We did pretty well that game but still lost 6 to 0.

I was lucky enough to avoid any serious injury during my playing days. I did receive an opponent's helmet to my chin which required some stitches, but that just gave me a scar to prove to my kids that I actually played back then.

Back then, playing sports was pretty nerve wracking for me. I had certain rituals for good luck. I wore the same t-shirt under my uniform for every practice and game for four years. It was an orange t-shirt with a Kit-Kat candy bar logo on the front. And occasionally, I would let Mom wash it when it stood in the corner by itself.

Because I would get so nervous before games, I would fail to enjoy them much. I concentrated too much on what I was supposed to do, that I wouldn't stop and take it all in. I hardly ever celebrated on the field and rarely heard the crowd cheer when we made a good play.

So these days, I am making up for lost time. When I take Number One Son and Sweet Pea to our local high school stadium, I try to notice everything that is going on.

The first experience that brings back the glory days for me is hearing the pep band play as we walk across the parking lot.

The closer we get to the gate, the smell of concession stand popcorn reaches our noses. That mixes with the smell of newly mowed grass from the football field. Sometimes I stop and inhale deeply through my nostrils in an attempt to turn back time.

Once in the stands, I survey the entire field of green with precisely spaced white yard lines and numbers marking where rows of players do their pre-game calisthenics. They do the same jumping jacks and stretches that I did so long ago.

The noises of the game also bring back memories. A rumble of anticipation comes from the fans visiting in the stands. The cheerleaders shout out their routines mixing with the regular cadence of the players' warm up exercises. And then the silence before the national anthem, setting the stage for a rousing cheer to start off the contest.

Once the game starts, I observe that things look much different in the stands than I remember them on the field. Plays look much less confusing from up here. Today's players also seem to be faster than in my day. Regardless of today's changes, the game is still pretty much the same. The teams and stadiums are bigger. And so is my enjoyment of the game, because I enjoy the little things that go along with the game much more. Little things that I was too nervous to enjoy before.

I haven't kept in touch very well with many of my teammates over the years. But the feeling of being brothers on a team, united in one goal hasn't dimmed in me. When I do correspond with teammates of old, the past rushes back to me and is as vivid as when I first experienced it.

Here we are in our senior football yearbook photo. Quite the menacing group in our home orange jerseys. #34 was an all-state running back for us that year. #23 was a state champion wrestler. #56 is a great dad to three girls. #51 owns his own ice cream business out west and is still the school record holder in the discus. #66 has travelled the world with the Air Force. He is currently stationed in North Carolina. And #82 is still a dork.

English Lessons from Sting

Just recently, I was downloading some Police songs to my Ipod. One of the songs reminded me of a day in my high school English class. I believe it was my freshman year and we were assigned to write a poem about anything we wanted.

So, on the morning of the day the poem was due, I asked my locker mate if his poem was ready for English class. My locker neighbor, who was a character to put it mildly, flashed a sly grin and replied, "Guess what?"

My reaction of 'What' was answered by my friend with an explanation of his 'plan' for English class.

He explained that he didn't want to write a poem last night, so he got an inspiring idea to copy a couple of verses from one of his favorite songs.

With incredulity, I blurted, "No way!"

He said, "Yeah, why not? She's not going to know the difference."

We both thought this was the best idea in the world. The song he picked was very new at the time and was just starting to get popular. But who cares? Teachers don't listen to popular music.

The song he chose was Wrapped Around Your Finger, by the Police. And he chose the first two verses from that song for his 'poem'.

To refresh your memory, the lyrics are as follows:

You consider me your young apprentice

Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.

Hypnotized by you if I should linger

Staring at the ring around your finger.

I have only come here seeking knowledge,

Things they would not teach me of in college.

I can see the destiny you sold

turned into a shining band of gold.

As you can see, he picked a very poetic lyric. This should be an easy 'A'.

So we arrived at English class and settled into our desks and prepared to hand in our poems. Our teacher had another idea, though. She stood in front of the class and announced, "Who wants to be the first one to read their poem in front of the class?"

A low groan could be heard rippling through the room.

After a little added prompting by the teacher, someone volunteered. She read her poem and we all sat in stony silence. Our teacher then threw us another curve ball. She started asking questions, of us, about our poems. Questions like, "What made you choose those words?" , and "What does that symbolize?". Questions that high school freshman are incapable of fathoming.

The rest of the class time was taken up in this manner. Student after student would slouch their way to front of the room, sheepishly read their poem and then shrug their shoulders to the teacher's questions. Every once in a while someone would agree with whatever the teacher thought our poems meant.

At the end of the hour, our class was asked, "Is there anyone who has not read their poem yet?"

That's when I remembered my locker neighbor had not read his 'poem' yet. I then realized that our assignment involved more than just handing in an innocent piece of paper. I also realized that my friend was going to be unable to explain anything about his thought process or creative inspiration. How could he answer why he chose the words, Scylla and Charibdes? How could he even define those words? I don't think Sting could even answer those questions.

As I said, class was just about to end and our poet laureate had yet to recite. Our teacher looked at the clock and determined we had just enough time for one more poem if we hurried.

I can remember my friend dragging his feet to the front of the room and bowing his head to read his wrinkly page of college ruled notebook paper with torn fringes on one side from the spiral edge. I can remember feeling uncomfortable for him, as he hurriedly rushed through his lyrics in a language slightly above a mumble.

When he was finished, I don't think he even looked up, as if hoping that everyone would forget he was there. His head bowed as if praying for a miracle.

And a miracle was granted. The class bell rang before our teacher could ask any questions. My friend rapidly handed in his paper and darted out under the cover of noisy desks and freshmen.

I'm not sure if our English teacher knew the truth or not. I didn't ask my friend what kind of grade he got and we never talked about it again.

Until now, that is.

The Last Crusade

The final chapter of our camping trip involves the activities that we enjoyed while trying to get away from it all. And since 'it all' included electricity, Number One Son valiantly battled his video game withdrawal. It wasn't until the second day that he started asking how he could recharge his game using pine needles and acorns. He made the mistake of asking me as I was going to the well to pump some more water into our cooler. "Here's the pump game, N1S. You get a point for each pump. See if you can get the high score!", I cheered.

"What do I get for high score?", he asked with suspicion.

"Bigger arms and a pat on the back.", I offered. It must have been enough because he filled the cooler.

"Next time, can we get a camp site with electricity?", he pleaded.

Since we were in the woods, there were a few nature trails that the kids and I wanted to explore. One morning N1S asked if we could go on a trail close to the beach. N1S, Sweet Pea and I found the sign at the beginning of the trail and entered the forest. SP thought of a game to collect one thing to match each color of the rainbow. Green was pretty easy since everything was green. Red and yellow were found pretty quickly too. Blue and purple were going to test her. We walked quite a ways and SP's collection was growing too large for her to carry so we made a birch bark basket to hold it all. She had found red, orange and green leaves. She found yellow, white and purple flowers and even found a bright pink leaf somehow. As my legs started to tire we came to a bridge that had a wild blueberry plant with two tiny blue berries. She actually found blue in the forest. They were the size of two shrivelled peas but she found them.

The longer we walked, the more I thought, "I really should have found out how long this trail is before we started." SP's legs were Jello-ing and N1S was sweating. Then, just over the hill, we saw a sign. Finally, the end! But the sign only told us, This trail is 2.5miles long and does not loop. Does not loop! Why wasn't this sign at the other end of the trail? As both kids howled their discontent I could swear I heard their call answered by a pack of wolves miles away.

So now I had to convince the kids that going back the way we came was the only way to get home. We hadn't planned on a five mile hike this morning but that's what we got. The whole way back the kids would ask me, "How many more miles?" "Almost there.", was my favorite lie. Luckily, we made it out of the woods and were welcomed by Lady Di and a big egg, bacon and flapjack breakfast.

If hiking to the next state and back wasn't enough, we also burned some calories kayaking around Lake Superior. We actually didn't go all the way around Lake Superior but found a nice lagoon to see turtles and toured some caves along the shore. Number One Son and Lady Di paddled one kayak and Sweet Pea and I were in the other. For some reason SP and I drew the slow boat. It may have had something to do with our uneven weight displacement. With me in the back, our kayak quickly filled with an inch of water at my end. SP felt great glee in telling everyone she saw that her dad's pants were wet the whole time we were in the kayak.

LD and N1S's kayak must have had a motor on it. As soon as we hit open water, they left us in their wake. They took off across the lake to the caves, two miles away. SP and I got about half way before we stopped in the middle of the water and started making up new verses to 'Row, Row, Row your Kayak'. Most of my verses included a muscle ache or bruise.

And camping wouldn't be complete without wildlife. We were fortunate to see and sometimes interact with the locals.

On one of our bike rides this doe bounded through the woods beside us. She had a fawn with her but I couldn't get her in the picture.

We had squirrels chittering every morning in an alarm clock fashion. Every night we had raccoons visit our coolers to check if they were shut or not. LD and I could hear them at night so we shined our flashlights on them. They would look at us, finish scratching at our coolers and move on. They were pretty smart to only check the coolers and didn't stay long when they couldn't get in. We also had a few less cuddly visitors to the campsite. Each campsite had a numbered post at the front and ours housed a hive of honey bees. And as if that wasn't enough, N1S made a friend in the grass just to the right of our post.

If you can't make it out, N1S is holding a small garter snake. It even bit him a few times. He said it didn't hurt, but felt like a little pinch. LD said she could feel it and ran for the tent. We suffered very few mosquito bites and almost no injuries. Only one stick wound above N1S's eye had to be attended to.

Well, those are the highlights of our trip to Madeline Island. Hopefully, you don't feel too itchy or dirty from so much camping reading. If it sounded fun to you, it was. We would like to go again next year. Lady Di started out firmly on the anti-camping side but I think after this trip, she has changed teams and is even looking for deals on camping equipment that we had to borrow this last time.

Thanks for joining us on our adventure.