Oh, For The Love Of Pete!!

Yeah. That's a pile of hair on the floor (and a snippet of red paper, too, I see.) *SIGH* And yes, it's Annie's.

And for Annie's next trick....

To The Max!

I happened upon a blog today that I had never seen before. You know when you google a phrase, you can find yourself on quite the adventure, visiting all types of places - some are interesting, some are scary, some are right what you're looking for, some are, uh, not. And some are absolutely serendipitous! I'm glad I scrolled down the page with my search results and clicked on the bottom link. I'm doubly glad I read one posting, then read a few more. Because the author? I think we might be enrolled in the same program at the inaccurately called School of Hard Knocks. It should really be called something like The Opportunity and Happiness Academy....

Okay, I'm not a magazine editor, so my musings aren't as charming as Ellen's (and probably not punctuated correctly, either,) but I encourage you to peruse her blog occasionally. And smile for me and Ryan and Emi and Annie, because we've found ourselves working a small plot of rich soil in a magical land. Sometimes, dark clouds gather and fierce winds howl across the landscape, and it might rain heavily for days on end. But then, oh, if you could just see the riot of colour sweeping across the fields and inhale the heady scent of fresh blossoms and feel the warmth of the sun smiling out of a bright blue sky, you'd know why we keep planting seeds in our little garden.

To The Max

If They Don't Know, Can They Be Held Responsible?

It's spring break. And cloudy. And 42 degrees. But to help spring break feel like spring break, the girls are attending the annual Spring Break Nature Quest at the Schlagle branch of the library, where the focus is more on nature and the environment than on books. I'm just letting you know so you don't drive out there hoping to find a copy of Twilight - 'cause you won't!

Anyway, the spring break day-camp has become a tradition for our girls. The two-hour daily sessions are filled with activities and workshops covering a variety of subjects, from astronomy to archery. On Monday, which happened to be astronomy day, the girls made constellation guides, which required the use of scissors (definitely) and pen (apparently). When I picked the girls up that day, I immediately noticed a nice hole near the knee in Annie's purple leggings. However, it didn't look quite like the type of hole that results from scraping a knee. It's edges were a little too neat. In fact, it looked like it might have been made deliberately!

Wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery, I pointed out the incriminating hole to Annie and asked her what happened. She nonchalantly explained that she ended up with an ink mark on her legging and cut it out to get rid of the offending stain. Did she forget we have a washing machine?! This is, of course, the kid who will happily cut any paper into confetti and who is periodically reminded that she, herself, does not have a hairdresser's license therefore she is not allowed to take silver blades to her own tresses (or anyone else's) simply because it's fun, so I'm not really surprised that she chose to cut a chunk out of her own clothing. Except that she's seven! Annie, naturally, added to her explanation by saying - with reference to the adults running the program, "They don't know I'm not supposed to have scissors."

What's the Kanji for Orthography?

I was scrolling through my postings menu the other day and found this one from over a year ago. I am not sure why it didn't see the light of day, but am leaning toward the "I-forgot-to-click-on-the-Publish Post-button-excuse. Fortunately (or not), it's as relevant today as it was when I actually wrote it:

Emi has an incredible appetite for learning. For a kid who insists she doesn't like school, she certainly thrives on filling her mind with all sorts of new ideas. Emi spouts off trivia like I draw breath, things like, "Did you know that Kansas used to be part of the Late Cretaceous Western Interior Sea?" and she's continually advancing her reading level. Even math and science are clicking pretty well - she's learning principles at earlier grade levels than those of us of a certain age did.

But have I menshuned her speling? Orthography is not Emi's strong sute. So I had to laugh when Ryan shared this with me a few days ago:

Among Emi's varied interests is anything her dad is interested in. Ryan enjoys studying kanji (the japanese writing system) and Emi is tickled that one of the reasons we chose her name is that "Emi" is also a fairly common Japanese name. And the kanji that Ryan chose for her name means 'laughter."

Anyway, the other day, Ryan found some of his kanji flashcards and was showing a few to Emi. She looked at them and started to get very excited. She suggested, "Hey, maybe I can use these cards and learn new kanji, like one everyday!" to which Ryan replied, "Maybe you should work on your English spelling before you start to worry about Japanese spelling." Emi considered this and gave a small grin as she answered, "Yeah, maybe you're right."

The Importance Of Being Annie

If Annie (who is very keen on a particular canine housemate) could post, I think she'd present something like this:

Do You Ever Wonder What Became of Them?

Do you ever wonder if that 18 months or 2 years as an LDS missionary paid off? I found this story on the InnerWeb this afternoon. It began with a knock on a door one night in the winter of 1995. I was the one who rapped on the door...

Excerpted from
Japan Kobe Mission Blog 2008-2011 McIntyre Family Mission

After conference today we held a baptism for Brother Aritoshi of the Ako Branch. He was taught and baptized by Elders Nishio and Novak. This was a special service as Elder Nishio's parents and his older brother were in attendance. Elder Nishio is from Tsuyama in the Hiroshima Mission and his father was transferred here and then called as bishop of one of the wards in the Kobe Stake. His brother has been called to Fukuoka and will report in March. It is a special and unique thing to get a picture of a baptism with your family on your mission. To add to the irony, his home ward, Tsuyama, will become part of this mission in July as well with the consolidation of Hiroshima. Not sure where to transfer him going forward!

Gallery:

●First white dude from left - Elder Novak, don't know him
●First Japanese dude from left - Aritoshi, don't know him
●Second Japanese dude from left - Elder Akihito Nishio, met him when he was 5-years-old and now serving as a missionary for the LDS Church
●Third Japanese dude from left - Yoshito Nishio, met him when he was nine or ten and will begin service as a missionary for the LDS Church in March 2010
●Fourth Japanese man from left - Toshiaki Nishio, met him through his wife Yoko and now serves as a lay-minister for a congregation
●First Japanese woman from left - Yoko Nishio, knocked on her door one night and asked her what she knew about Jesus Christ and if she's like to know more
●Second white man from left - President Mcintyre, head of the Kobe Japan LDS Mission
●Second Japanese woman from left - Sister Mcintyre, wife of President Mcintyre

So was it worth it? I'd go back in a heartbeat. But, some friends of mine now have the reigns and I have all the confidence in the world in them.

We'll Be Missing You

First, please give Grandpa a hug for me.

Thank you for the day bus trips downtown - back when Kansas City actually had a viable downtown - that sandwich restaurant we went to and the iced Big Bird department store cookies you'd buy me. Sublime memories.

And who cares about Conan and Jay Leno when I got to frequently enjoy watching Johnny Carson with my grandparents? (I had to draw the line at Dallas though.)

Thank you for taking me in as a lost 6th grader for a couple years so I could attend a better school. You helped me ace every geography test I had that year. I can't forget the lunches Grandpa made for me each morning that elicited daily offers of barter or cash from 6th and 7th graders with lesser lunches. I mean, he cut the crust off my sandwiches and wrapped them in wax-paper, plus a generous helping of, no doubt, healthful goodies to round out the the most important delicious food groups.

And when I went to KU, I still could stop by any day on the way home for lunch and know you were glad to see me and willing gave me your food.

And while on my mission, I often didn't really care the contents of the letters you sent, but you faithfully wrote and that meant something. Sure, the huge tin of homemade cookies you sent to the MTC wreaked of Grandpa's cigarette smoke. I didn't notice until Matt Eagar pointed it out to me. We chucked them in the bin, but they were emotionally delicious.

Well, and then there was the time you loaned me the money so I could buy a nice diamond ring for a girl I fell in love with. I think I eventually paid you back - most of it at least. You always treated Allison and my girls with love, even when Annie steadfastly refused to put on her socks though you were certain she would become sick because of her unshod, cold feet.

I have know clue what you are up to today. Maybe the Mormon Heaven Initiation the show South Park depicted so well? Maybe you are looking for an apartment and a part-time job until you get on your feet in a new place? Are there baby quilts to make in heaven? Maybe you should just take some time to relax. Go on a drive in Grandpa's resurrected baby-blue 79' Buick Regal, go have steak and oysters with Walter - Scoma's in San Francisco is good, if you can get in (I know, you'll leave the seafood to him). If you see WC, tell him he has some explaining to do, but we can probably let by-gones be by-gones - eventually. It's been years since Auntie died - I think I was eleven. Tell Jim I wish I knew where he stashed all the recipes from the old bakery. And you probably need to take some time to get to know your baby sister Ina May, who died before you got to know her.

We'll take care of Mom and make sure she doesn't stay out too late with her friends. Dad already picked up your oxygen tubing so he won't trip over it anymore. (He'll still probably stumble around, but it just won't be on your oxygen tubing.)

And one more thing - you should probably finally learn how to drive so we don't have to shuttle you around town all the time. We enjoyed a lot of that time together, but this point is a little out-of-hand.

We love you and will miss you dearly. Anytime you want to go to the Frontier Steakhouse, I'm buying. Just let us know when.

Update: The Harzfeld's Blog was kind enough to post a brief tribute to my grandmother.