Happy Father's Day!

And you know who you are. I mean, you are reading this, after all. So of course, this salutation goes out to you. Collectively, to those who act as fathers (knowingly or not) and have touched Ryan, me, and our kids. Maybe you've been teachers or neighbors or just solid, upstanding citizens - anyway, thanks and Happy Father's Day.

Individually, to my Dad: I love you. And thank-you. And I can't wait to see you in a few weeks! To my father-in-law: thanks-for being Ryan's dad. 'Cause I like him - a lot, in fact. And you've had much to do to help him be that man that he is. And to Ryan: I'm the lucky one. I love you.

Happy Father's Day!

I Left My Bird in San Francisco?

Some of you may have seen news coverage on the bird (referred to as Swoops) that is ravaging the streets of San Francisco. Actually, it's pretty much one street corner.

Lucky for me, I spent last week in SF and allocated a substantial amount of time Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday watching this bird's antics. Exactly the definition of serendipity, I walked the sidewalks in search of a good meal, but came to know this noblest of creatures instead.



Follow Swoop's blog including news coverage, editorials and fan commentary at the Attack Bird Chronicles.

Pandora

I feel sapped of energy. It's not quite malaise, but I don't really feel like doing much. Except curling up with a good book (I've been enjoying thrillers lately, David Baldacci-type of stuff), maybe baking something gooey and chocolatey, or slipping a romantic comedy in the DVD player. I think the weather is to blame. Waking up to dull, grey skies 4 or 5 days in a row is just not refreshing! Yes, a thrilling storm with bolts of lightening dancing across the clouds accompanied by great, pounding rumbles of thunder is nice every now and then, but a prolonged period (more than a day or two) of this type of weather drains me. Does this happen to you, too?

I might have happened upon an antidote. It's too early to determine if I've rid myself entirely of this bout of laziness, but I think I'm on to something: Pandora. I've been intending for a couple of months now to personalize some stations for myself, and a few nights ago I put together a couple of stations. And today, although I won't claim that my 80's music station is exacting any sort of miracle, something nice is happening. My veins might not flowing with vim and vigor, but I definitely feel a little more pep this afternoon.

I guess this is a little plug for Pandora and an extension gratitude for Tim Westergren's vision. Because this afternoon, the gangs from New Order and the Cure, those rascally Pet Shop Boys, the cute Norwegian kids (a-ha, that's where their from!) and the twins from London who actually aren't (you know, those Thompsons), among others, are apparently just the company I've needed. Who knew unexpected visitors could be so great!

Please excuse me now, though. I'm going to spend some more time with my guests.

Just Chill...IN!

aIt's time to share some more of the silly things that pop out of my kids' mouths (verbal, not masticated, mind you,) particularly the words that tumble (and that is an apt description) between Annie's lips, because I figure these gems won't serve any purpose sitting in a dark vault and instead should be displayed for public enjoyment.

• Cocoa (the crazy puppy who Annie refers to as "my daughter" or "my-baby-sister-that-I-love-so-much" (seriously, ask Annie how many sisters she has and she'll likely tell you, "Two" or perhaps she'll even answer "Three," if she happens to lump Tessa - our other dog - in there. Hmmm. Is that why I've noticed some speculative raised eyebrows cast in my direction lately?) can be a little....rambunctious. Okay, a lot rambunctious. While Cocoa was running and jumping and spinning and slobbering yesterday, Annie testily admonished, "Chill in, Cocoa. Just chill in!"
• Can I just say that listening to Annie re-invent that popular phrase brings a slew of other Annie-isms to mind? I am particularly fond of "No Jose Way!"
• Skip this one if you don't appreciate potty-humor: Apparently, Annie believes she has a little family living in her bottom. The other day when I asked her if she was finished pooping, she said, "Just the mom and dad came out. The little ones are playing a game inside. They will come out later."
• Heading to a track meet, anyone? Listen for Annie to call out, "Ready. Set. Mark. Go!"

Lest you think that Annie alone brings such amusement to our home, I have to share an Emi classic. First, though, let me tell you that Emi tends to be a bit more considerate than Annie before charging ahead with her voice.

• Emi was almost 3 the first time she and I went to Carthage, Illinois. (For those of you who may not know, Carthage - population 2725 - is one of the dots on the map that connects places teeming with history of the early days of the LDS church.) I don't really know what I was expecting - maybe something a little more....quaint? Touristy? Charming? Granted, the day was overcast, so maybe that's why Carthage itself appeared so dusty and grey. Of course, nearly empty streets and sidewalks along with overgrown grass and boarded windows on a few houses and buildings did nothing to suggest much brightness existed in the town, anyway. Apparently Emi's impressions were not much fulgent more than mine, since she observed from her car seat, "Carthage is a lot like Walmart!"