Ten thousand flowers!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Spring Bouquet
Our neighbor Herb Clark definitely deserves props for his Spring display. 
Ten thousand flowers!
Ten thousand flowers!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Cabby Paddy
J was strangely excited when I brought home a Costco sized pack of lunchables. I have some? I have some? he begged. Moments later he held up a perfect little cracker sandwich and exclaimed Look look, a cabby paddy. What? Hey, a cabby paddy. I can't understand this child. A cabby paddy, a cabby paddy. I pretended to understand. He knew better and turned to Amanda. Sissy, look, a cabby paddy. Yup, it sure is.
WHAT is he saying? He made a Krabby Patty. A what? You know, Sponge Bob. J smiled, completely satisified at being perfectly understood.
WHAT is he saying? He made a Krabby Patty. A what? You know, Sponge Bob. J smiled, completely satisified at being perfectly understood.
Whoa, Nellie
First Grandpa hitched Nellie up to the surrey with a fringe on top and paraded us around in the best of Amish style. She loves to go! And it takes a lot of strength for Grandpa to hold her back, especially on the homeward stretch.
After Nellie was quite worn out, Grandpa saddled her up for the kids. Way, way up.
And I remembered one of my first memories -- sitting bareback on our gentle black mare as she enjoyed feeding on the freshly delivered hay . . . her uncharacteristic startling . . and my tumbling to the hard ground below.
Then a more terrifying memory -- seeing my little brother's lower face bitten off as the horse reached to chomp on the oats held out in his three-year-old hands . . . my dad sweeping him up . . . holding his bloody face together . . . frantically running . . . and praying.
And finally -- empathizing with my great-grandma helplessly watching the frightened horse drag her four-year-old son to his death.
When I insisted that Grandpa stand close to J on the horse, someone teased You worry too much! Oh sure, no need to be afraid.
After Nellie was quite worn out, Grandpa saddled her up for the kids. Way, way up.
And I remembered one of my first memories -- sitting bareback on our gentle black mare as she enjoyed feeding on the freshly delivered hay . . . her uncharacteristic startling . . and my tumbling to the hard ground below.
Then a more terrifying memory -- seeing my little brother's lower face bitten off as the horse reached to chomp on the oats held out in his three-year-old hands . . . my dad sweeping him up . . . holding his bloody face together . . . frantically running . . . and praying.
And finally -- empathizing with my great-grandma helplessly watching the frightened horse drag her four-year-old son to his death.
When I insisted that Grandpa stand close to J on the horse, someone teased You worry too much! Oh sure, no need to be afraid.
Puppies Have PeePees
Grandpa's dog Micah has puppies. J had so much fun seeing them romp and growl, tug with their teeth, and even drink milk. He was so excited, "Hey look look . . . hey be nice . . . hey don't bite . . . hey like Mommy and Jeremy."
Micah was trying to weene them. So after nursing just a few minutes, she would roll to the other side, and J would coax, "Come over to this side, little puppy." When the puppies started nursing her other side, she rolled flat on her belly. At that point J was very concerned, "Hey, they can't get it! Mommy dog, they can't get it!"
This morning we asked him his favorite thing about yesterday. His response: "Puppies have peepees."
Micah was trying to weene them. So after nursing just a few minutes, she would roll to the other side, and J would coax, "Come over to this side, little puppy." When the puppies started nursing her other side, she rolled flat on her belly. At that point J was very concerned, "Hey, they can't get it! Mommy dog, they can't get it!"
This morning we asked him his favorite thing about yesterday. His response: "Puppies have peepees."
My First Bike Ride
Mommy made us match -- in our surf-bum shirts (J says it's a pirate shirt cause of the skull & bones).
Daddy pulled my bike trailer
up the canyon -- what a breeze!
up the canyon -- what a breeze!J played with cousins on the playground.
J found a ladybug.
I ate grass.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
What's Wrong With You?
Jeremy has been sick. Dr. Arnold forewarned us to expect 10 colds over the next 12 months. That doesn’t make it any easier for us to bear his incessant crying. After hours of watching our unsuccessful attempts to make Jeremy comfortable, Mr J Patience faced him directly and obtrusively demanded WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? Bill and I stared at each other in amazement. Where did he learn that phrase with its particular Ray Romano intonation? Later that night we gathered for family time around the TVs. On with the volume wars! I couldn’t hear Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels on the big screen and J couldn’t hear Ice Age on the portable. I’d up my volume, he’d up his. Then over the blondourage’s trashy yelling, I distinctly heard that oversized mammoth, irritated with the incessant crying of prehistoric baby, demand WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?
We laughed and laughed. And I thought it was amusing enough to share at work the next day. My anecdote sparked a thought in our President, and he proceeded to describe a documentary he just watched on a child prodigy in India. "He’s four years old and plays the piano marvelously. They say he’s our modern day Mozart. Experts attribute his brilliant aptness to the fact that he has been constantly exposed to classical music since he was in the womb." Unbelievable! You mean to tell me that his obsessing mother created a genius by exposing him to classical music? "Absolutely," he smiled, "And look what you’re creating by exposing your child to Ice Age."
We laughed and laughed. And I thought it was amusing enough to share at work the next day. My anecdote sparked a thought in our President, and he proceeded to describe a documentary he just watched on a child prodigy in India. "He’s four years old and plays the piano marvelously. They say he’s our modern day Mozart. Experts attribute his brilliant aptness to the fact that he has been constantly exposed to classical music since he was in the womb." Unbelievable! You mean to tell me that his obsessing mother created a genius by exposing him to classical music? "Absolutely," he smiled, "And look what you’re creating by exposing your child to Ice Age."
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