This is only a test...

Here is a photo of a 1964 Ford almost exactly like my dad bought from Grandad when I was a kid. He bought it for a buck I think. The most clear memory I have with this truck is with my dad. He was driving me to the hospital. At this point I don't trust any of my memories because any time I offer one up, Mom and JeNeale contradict me with a false version of that memory that they have been collaborating on for years, so I don't have a chance. But here it is anyway. Mom and JeNeale, feel free to correct me. Ha.

My friend Blair Carpenter and I had ridden our bikes down to the "lower" Highlander. (Now bike is a relative term. I was riding JeNeale's old red, white, and blue girls bike with the banana seat and ape-hanger handlebars. Blair was riding an old junker his Dad had picked up at the Base dumpster and "fixed up"). This was in the early days, because the section of the subdivision between Cloverdale and Valley road was not completely built in with houses yet and it was still dirt. Almost. Foolishly, the contractors had poured the cement curbs and had left the whole street unattended for the night. Well, Blair and I (I think I was about 9 or 10) decided to try a physics experiment. We thought we should test the trajectory of a rock thrown against those gorgeous cement curbs to see what direction it would go and how much velocity it would carry. After several tries, we still lacked documented, quantifiable evidence, but we were really flinging those rocks! We got our evidence, however, when, as I was bending down to pick up our next test subject, Blair threw his. Well, as I sat screaming in the street, bleeding in the dirt from a fresh head wound, Blair stood there frozen not knowing what to do, a neighbor lady came out with a bright white towel to put on my head. She drove me home. Mom and Dad debated briefly and Mom won out of course. (Thankfully. Dad would have probably poured alcohol on it and duck taped it). But Dad is the one who drove me to the hospital. As we drove in red Ford to the hospital, Dad tried to comfort me. He said over and over again, "Jay, don't got to sleep. you might die before we get there!" Ha!

Our findings:

1. We found that the rocks went really fast, and location and direction were very unpredictable.
2. The rocks, when richocheting off cement curbs, can cause concussions and cuts that require stitches to close.

Truck: A Love Story

I am sorry for my silence. A six-week hiatus with family and friends was bad enough, but then trying to catch up from said break, starting school and creating a couple of new syllabi have provided me with sufficient justification so as to avoid having to write for a while.

Well, I have finally found an author that writes like I would like to write if I could string two words together in a coherent sentence. Michael Perry. Author of Truck: A Love Story and Population:485. That said, Truck is a better read than Population: 485. There a several swears in the aforementioned book, that while he is quoting other folks, still grate a little. Truck was just pure pleasure for me. Here is a review from Amazon.

"One wouldn't think that repairing a beat-up old pickup could become a life-altering undertaking. And yet, for Perry, it was all that and more: an epic adventure that encompassed love, diplomacy, a little hydroponics, and even some danger (like setting yourself on fire). Perry, who is also the author of -Population: 485 (2002), propels the story forward as if he were writing a novel, helped by a cast of characters who range from the lightly offbeat to the totally bizarre. The prose is straightforward, almost deadpan, but behind the words, the reader feels a heightened sense of irony, as though Perry knows how weird it all is but figures, what the heck, it's true so why not just go with it. The heart of the book tells dual love stories--man and truck; man and woman--that are, in their own ways, equally passionate. Perry writes about fixing his truck as if he was resurrecting it, but in fact, he may more accurately be said to have been resurrecting himself. The truck is transformed, certainly, but the multiplicity of changes that Perry goes through run deeper and likely will last longer." David Pitt
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

One of my favorite parts of this book is his attempts at growing a garden. It won't be for everyone, but I loved every minute of it. Here's one of my favorite quotes from the book:

"I am happy to live in a place where I can chuck a washing machine out my back door and no one judges my behavior unusual"

Here's a link to an excerpt for the book.

Enjoy.

Fireflies

Tonight, as I was leaving to come up here and finish up some details, I walked outside and saw a bunch of blinking neon green lights outside. I ran back inside and got the kids.

FIREFLIES!

Woo-hoo! Stampede! We all raced outside and ran around trying to catch these little blinking bugs for the next 15 minutes.

Running around the yard.
Grabbing at air.
What a great feeling.

Running.
Grabbing.
Happy.

You're killing me Smalls...

Title is obviously from one of the funniest movies of all time. Anyone want to venture a guess?

Well, Laur tells me that she has been waiting for me to write a new post. Truth is, after reading hers and JeNeale's and Marisa's and Maren's and Laurie's I am a little intimidated.

Anyway, the kids FINALLY got out of school last Friday. Between the extra week break and all of the snow days tacked on at the end of the year, I am surprised that the kids don't go year round! As it is, they will get out a week before we are leaving for vacation, and start back 3 weeks after we get back! And another thing-kids doing homework in first and second grade? Come on! I didn't do any homework until I got to college! (Which may account for the 17 on my ACT test) Ronan had homework pretty much every night this year-in second grade. Hummpffff.

Topher doesn't seemed bothered by the whole thing. In fact he rather likes school, everything about it. I'm so proud of both boys this year. Toph got several awards, but the one that means the most to me, as a father, is the citizenship award. His teacher commented that he has a strong sense of right and wrong and always chooses the right. She also said he has been a positive force in her class. Good work, Topher.

Ronan got a special award as well. He got the reading achievement award. I think this is particularly impressive, because reading did not come especially easy for Ronan. I think this is one area where tenacity, persistance and the example of his older brother and his peer group made all of the difference for Mr. Ronan. The other thing that makes so proud of the boys is that school these days is not set up for boys. There is not nearly enough physical activity. I think the guys had PE every 4 or 5 days. Plus shorter recesses and longer days. Ronan, I'm very proud of you!

Lacey finished her last year of pre-school this year at Happy Trails pre-school. This is the pre-school run by Sis. Horne across the street. She knows all of her letters and most of her numbers and she is the leader (by pure charcisma), of the class! She absolutely cannot wait for kindergarten next year. One of my favorite things she said this year was in reference to walking in flip-flops (thongs for anyone over 25). She said, "Dad, it's really hard to walk in flip-flops, I always have to hold onto them with my big toe and my almost big toe." If that won't melt a person...You did great little girl!

Now, who would of thought that at 40, (on Aug. 30) I would still be anxious to get out of school! The whole teaching gig has brought things back around so that I look forward to summer break almost as much as I did when I was a kid. Main difference is I still have to work, just not in the classroom.

Not much of a post, but I wanted to get my thoughts down about this stuff.

Now, "On to the next!" (what movie is that from?)

Cub scouts

I originally had this tacked on to the end of my previous post, but I thought I'd save it, because Ronan deserves his own post. This was about 6 weeks ago now.

Post picture here.

Ronan and I went to his Cub Scout activity tonight. This is a dreaded event. Ronan's group is huge, and there are some REALLY rambunctious kids. The event tonight was a tour of the Jaffrey Historic Society. So picture nine 7-8 year old boys walking through a building filled with old, breakable stuff, art, and rooms of Women's fashions from the 19th century, all lead by a very sweet, very old man with a quiet voice. I must say, the parents were a wreck. STOP. QUIET. BE POLITE. DON'T TOUCH. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU? HEY. QUIET. ONE MORE TIME AND...! Ugh. I told Ronan before he went in that he needed to have the courage to stand alone. That even if his friends were goofing off, he needed to be polite and quiet and keep his hands to himself. I have to say, he was as good as gold. I was so proud. Not one time did anyone have to speak to him and ask him to stop. Or be quiet. It was unbelievable. Not only that, but he was so proud to have me there. I must say that I am eating that up. I am so happy that my kids don't act like their parents are the plague. We are trying to have conversations with them about some of the things typical teenagers do, in an effort to help them understand that they are silly and unnecessary. (An idea we stole from our friends the Johnson's) We'll let you know how it works. Needless to say, I was as proud of Ronan tonight as I have ever been and we had a special night. Thanks, Ronan.

Post another picture here.

Slow in the fast lane.

Hay, man. One of my favorite roadtrip views.

Once again, a long span between entries. Maybe I'm not cut out for this blogging stuff. This entry won't be much. Fortunately hardly anyone reads this, so I'm not bound by any expectations. (Whew!)

Lately I have been dreaming of the West. The east coast is really something. Trees everywhere, water in surplus, half a dozen states within a half day drive. American history sites. Church history sites. Boston. NYC. The list goes on. Nevertheless, I keep daydreaming of driving in Twin in Dad's truck, at dusk with the windows down, warm wind blowing. (maybe stopping at Sonic) I think of driving through the outskirts of Boise/Meridian/Nampa breathing in the exquisite smell of the mint fields. Driving from Rexburg to Driggs watching mile after mile of dry farms speed by in a continuous blanket of undulating gold. Sitting on Mom's back porch as the sun goes down conversing with family and friends I miss so much that sometimes I ache. Walking down Highlander in the middle of the night going from Mom's house to our old house after a day of work. I guess the siren is calling me home. There is a full moon out tonight. I mean the kind that makes a cast shadow on everything and allows a person to walk through the woods in the middle of the night without stumbling. I think that is what started my melancholy mood. That and we had the first day of 70 degree temperatures today. Driving. Windows down. Seems to be a recurring theme. Many of my memories involve driving. Road trips with the parents. Mom telling Dad in Mountain Home that she thought she left the iron on. Turning around to make sure. Iron was off. Big blue van. Station wagon. Ford Fiesta trips to Idaho Falls with 4 kids to do dental work. Back and forth to Weiser. Back and forth to Utah. Back and forth to Rexburg. Anniversary trips to Jackson Hole.

Driving with windows down.
Warm wind blowing.
What a great feeling.

Warm.
Windy.
Happy.


Hmmm. Rambling now.

By the way, the background texture in the new header is one of the ampersand patterns.

Over and out.

"It'll tickle your innards"

Some of you may remember that in my "I'm it" post, I mentioned Diet Dew as one of my bad habits. Well, I started on the real stuff back in high school. Then, in 2003, when I lost 40 lbs, I switched to diet to facilitate that effort. It worked. However, when I started eating Hostess Fruit Pies, Little Debbie Fudge Rounds, Fritos, and California Burritos from Beto's in Salt Lake, the Diet Dew just couldn't compensate. But I digress. I have always battled with drinking Mtn. Dew in front of the kids. I tell them that they shouldn't drink it because the caffeine is not good for little kids. Which is true, but if we are going to be honest, it's not good for me either. So, for some reason Lacey picked up on the word caffeine from when she was little, and as a result, when she asks me for a drink of my soda, she asks for a drink of my "caffeine". DOH! Nothing like driving home the error of your ways. Reminds me of one of my favorite movie quotes. "It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds." Anyone know where that one comes from? There I go, tying in one of my other bad habits. Haha. The other night my sweetheart organized the kids for a Daddy family night. I'm sure it's because I was being a total curmudgeon when I got home and she wanted the kids to think good things about me, even though I didn't deserve it! Everyone wrote some fun memories they had with dad and put them in a jar and I got to pick them out and read them out loud. I tell you, the kids love it when you let them know how much you appreciate their thoughts or actions. At the end of the FHE, Laur made a little quiz about daddy's favorite things, and one of the questions was, "What is daddy's favorite soda?" As soon as it was out of Lauralee's mouth, Lacey raised her hand and shouted out,"CAFFEINE!"

Maybe I should cut back.

BTW-"It'll tickle your innards" was the Mtn. Dew slogan that was introduced in 1965 and printed on the bottles.

Mtn. Dew bottle cap image used without permission from the website of Laura and Benjamin Beamer.