Drowning in a sea of small multicolored hunks of plastic

Right now I am feeling like Gulliver meticulously stepping his way through a town of tiny cars, trains, people, and robots... but mostly cars. Why does everything a 5 yr old wants to play with involve at least one entire box of tiny cars?

There are many, many things wrong with a kid having a massive abundance of toys and very, very few (if any really) good things about it. But I am Scrooge, the asshole curmudgeon if I try to minimize the flood, to even suggest curtailing it is a crime.

1) it adds to the ENDLESS clutter in the house and I'm not just talking around Christmas... I'm talking about every corner, behind every lamp, under every piece of furniture, every goddamn horizontal surface being occupied by a toy. Even routinely throwing them out without checking... something I try to minimize but sometimes it has to be done... but even with this (and constant cleaning by the kids and parents) you cannot keep up with them. And this with the fact that we basically have three rooms in this house DEDICATED to toys. Even with this the house is awash. And we actually expend a fair amount  of effort taking toys to Good Will and selling them at consignment sales.

2) the ones you happen to manage require storage, shelves and shelves, entire walls full of shelves full of bins, totes, baskets, and boxes and boxes of  F'ING CRAP!

3) it adds to the household stress: yelling at the kids to pickup, constantly going back and forth with the wife about there being too much stuff, etc. etc.


4) it spoils the kid creating an unhealty desire for more and more material objects.

5) I believe it actually decreases attention span and lessens creativity: why bother fully playing with and using your imagination with one toy when you can just move onto another newer one, or at least one you haven't played with for the month or so it takes to circulate through 720 toys?

And don't forget.... this crap isn't falling from trees or some byproduct of life like scrap paper or coat hangers... WE ARE PAYING FOR THIS AND TAKING THE TIME TO RESEARCH IT AND BUY IT AND BRING IT INTO OUR HOMES.

AND THEN WE F'ING WRAP IT!!!!!!

So why do it? Why actually expend time and money to cause a harm to your child and the family? As far as I can tell it is just to extend that wonderful, wild-eyed excitement of the kids on Christmas morning and at birthday parties. Yes, that excitement is a fantastic thing and I love it when my kids are in that delirium of happiness.  I'm not saying by any means to end that. But does it have to go on and on  and on and at several different instances for every "event"? Even the kid gets exhausted and stops caring about what the present is but only what the next one is. Like a Dad clicking through the channels with the remote, he flys through them in the endless search for what might be better.

But no, I am the asshole just for bringing it up, for even proposing a limit. I get the eyerolls and the shhhh's.

But it's CHRISTMAS!!!

By the way, since discussing it in my household only causes grief, that is why I have posted it instead.

Ok folks, time for another exciting round of WHAT'S ON JIM'S KEYCHAIN!!!!!

First and foremost, the conspicuous kluge, the one that makes me wince a bit when I hand them to the gym guy (because of the membership fob), my 2004 Honda Odyssey key held together with two cable-ties and duct tape. I also have the key for the new Honda but I never drive it. The key painted up like the American flag is one of two keys we got when we bought the new house. Kerry got the blue and orange Gators one. I need to take off the black fob becasue it's useless. It used to be the device that let me into work but no more. There is a short key with a big black plastic head with "THULE" on it. That's for the big gray carrier we put on top of the 04 Odyssey for road trips.... we call it the "sandwich" for some reason. It holds a lot of crap and is pretty handy. Makes lookin' for the car in the parking lot a breeze.

Then there are two mystery silver keys. I'm not one to carry a lot of keys forever... I likley purged my set around 5-7 years ago so should be able to remember what these are but nope. One of them might be for an old bike lock but not sure.

Then I have two small gold keys. One of which is for the Thule bike rack that attaches to the hitch on the 04 van. The other say "Master" so it's for a padlock I had at one point... I'm sure it's around here somewhere.... it may be the same one I used to lock my Jeep up to the telephone pole in front of the house I lived at in Grant Park 14 years ago.

The taped-up Odyssey key, the house key, and the gym fob are separated from the rest by a detacheable section. Although I occasionally separate these to have a minimalist chain it's not a good idea as I will invariably misplace the other section.

That's all for tonight, kids! G'night!

The Switch

Today while biking I decided I'd blog about my whole anti-TV thing. Then, this evening I get a rare respite from the fam and, after 2 hours of yardwork, decide to turn on the TV mostly to see if there were any movies I could record for the kids to watch.

Then, while I was fixing my dinner, I stopped on Seinfeld. And it was an episode I hadn't thought of since the month it came out. The one where Jerry decides he's more attracted to his girlfriend's roommate than he is to her and wants George to help him figure out how to "make the switch". If you have seen it, then you're with me. If you haven't, read no more and go to whatever Hulu/Netflicks/Twivo thing people watch stuff on these days and find it. It's a true classic and I freakin' cracked up more than I have in a long time.

Anyway, it reminded me of the joy of watching well-made comedy. I know drama is all the rage nowadays but the stuff I remember and the only shows I still occasionally watch are sit-coms. Simpsons and Seinfeld in the early 90's and now The Middle, Modern Family, Big Bang or whatever Kerry happens to be watching when I walk by on the way to do something that can wait.

So I guess I'll hold off on the whole anti-TV rant.

Where is that stupid ship!

I noticed Erin playing Battleship on her Kindle. "Hey, let's play the real thing, you and me." So we broke it out and played. Typically, if my kid is over 6, I play to win figuring that's how they learn. I usually go for the on-the-edges strategy because most players don't think you'll do that and keep aiming for the middle or just inside the edges. That's what I did this time but it turned out Erin did too.

Unfortunately for her, she went right to the corners on each one and it was very easy to figure out her pattern. So after I had sunk two of her ships and knew where two more were, I was feeling pretty good and condescendingly revealed that I had also followed her strategy. I continued to expound on the nuances of Battleship strategy and where she had gone wrong.

And then she got my two-piece ship. And my final two were at the lower edge.

She had bantered a lot about how some of my misses were close so I continued to focus my shots in one area, trying to find her last ship... yes, the two-piece one, the "destroyer".  I even continued to give her "lessons" about how she shouldn't give out hints like that.

And then she got a hit on each of my last two ships.

As I continued to carpet-bomb the area in which I thought her ship was, she finished off my ships and won the game.

Turns out her last ship wasn't anywhere near where she had "accidently" led me to believe it was.

Primus - June 5, 2012 - Kiva Auditorium, Albuquerque, NM

2nd row. Good show but crowd low-key.

During the opener, "Southbound Pachyderm".... I hadn't heard it before, possibly off their new album.... crazy outfit on Les.

Winona's Big Brown Beaver

Harold of the Rocks, great song!

Missed "Jerry Was a Racecar Driver". Dang.

       

A busy day

Kerry: "Ok Finn, let's get going. We have a reeeally busy day today!"
Finn: "I'm bored, Mommy... I want to be busy."

And so began the whirlwind of suburbanite domesticity that was today.

The night before, Finn had cried as he saw his brother and sister drive off with Daddy. Not only were they they not here to play with but they were going CAMPING without him!!

Let me break in here a little... I know camping is not for everyone... "why would I want to purposely sleep out in the woods" etc. and all that but let me tell you, camping is a kid dream. Or let me preface.... camping with DADDY is a kid's dream. You can get as dirty as you want, climb trees, root beers and snacks in the cooler, nothing to keep tidy, s'mores, no napkins, stay up late, skip brushing teeth, pee in the woods, etc., etc.

Ok so this morning, having committed to getting the food together for two events, one a breakfast at a church event, the other at a Cub Scout event involving about 100 people, Kerry sets out in the minivan complete with the Finnster and our grill precariously lodged in the back. She soon realizes assistance is required so when a few considerate individuals offer up the "let me know if you need any help" Kerry quickly takes them up on it and forces are marshalled at Costco.

Thanks to everyone, things end up working out pretty well. Badminton was played, feet were attacked by fire ants, decorated eggs were pneumatically hurled into the air, and toddlers wandered off in the woods.... the usual.

Where are the Keys, Part 17

About 9 weeks ago, I had left my keys in the car out front of my in-law's place while I was organizing their recyclables. Finn messed around in the car a little and when I got him out, I couldn't find my keys. I was in a rush so I grabbed Kerry's set and headed to the recycling center. There was a good chance Finn had dropped them in the bin of plastics so I was planning on looking in it as I picked everything out one by one. Of course, by the time I actually ended up doing this I had forgotten all about it and dumped the whole bin in at one time.

After searching everywhere we figured that yes, Finn had dropped them in the bin and they were indeed in the bottom of the plastics dumpster at the recycling center which was now closed and would be until Monday. I called then and was told the plastics had been hauled off to the main center. I called there and left a message knowing I would never see my keys again.

I actually called a few more times and talked to a guy who said he'd let me know if they found them but, of course, nothing happened. So after a few times locked out of my office (I had my office key AND the security tag on my set) I got a replacement set. I had keys to our Thule carrier and the bike rack too on the lost set but had extras. But for my bike lock, wrapped around my handlebars, I had nothing so bought a new lock.

Three days ago I planned to cut off the old one with my Father in-law's boltcutters but didn't, figuring I'd look around a little more for any extra keys.

Then today, I lost my replacement set. First off, let me say that I shouldn't say "lost". Until now, I had never actually "lost" my keys. No matter what craziness had befallen them they always managed to turn up. So today I misplaced my keys once again at my in-law's and gave up looking for them and decided that the kids and I would walk up to the pool instead of driving.

As I'm pushing the jogging stroller up the driveway, I ask Erin to go check in the middle console to see if my keys were in there. She jumps in the car for about three seconds before emerging with a triumphant look. But in her hand is not the very small set that was my new set of keys but the clunky big set with the duct-taped Odyssy key that I had "misplaced" over two months ago!

She had found them in the sunglass cubby over the windshield.

Delmarva-lous!

Just about every summer, we make the long drive up to Delaware were my aunt-in-law has a house about a 100 yards from the beach spend a relaxing week or so slathered in sunscreen and sand.

Highlights of this summer's beachapalooza include:

In DC on the way up in the American History Museum, a laughing Finn decided to sample the tastes of the city by licking the main floor.

Liam was the builder and made sand sculptures of a slice of pizza, a crashed flying saucer, and a giant foot. Not to mention that he made a working crane from the remnants of an Erector Set from the 50's or 60's.




Erin was the mermaid and was tireless on her boogie board, spending hours honing her craft. Plus riding her bike around the neighborhood and and helping her aunt in the garden.

















The first 2-3 days the water was like a lake and Finn completely ignored the ocean. Of course, the 4th day when the waves were insane is the day he decides to take an interest in the water but basically, he stuck to his mission to destroy his brother's creations whenever his back was turned.







On the last day, with the van all packed up, Cokes at the ready for the driver, toys and books organized in the back for the kiddies.... all ready to go, hugs given and byes made. I start the van in reverse and back up 1" - ONE INCH - and here "I gotta go potty!" from the back. I swear to God I am not making this up! I know, I know 1 inch is better than 1 mile down the road but it was hilarious... or would've been if it wasn't repeated every half hour!

.44

Last week I had the pleasure of experiencing two birthdays.... mine and my youngest son's.

For Finn's 3rd, we had been planning for a while to take him to see Cars 2.
1) He liked the first Cars
2) It was premiering on his actual birthday
3) It would be his first movie on the big screen

It was only later we found out that
4) The #2 main character was named Finn!

Fun was had by all and he now is the proud owner of several Finn McMissile accoutrements including two T-shirts, a few toy cars, and a flashlight.

Then for my birthday my wonderful wife kept it simple, some beer and a few uninterrupted hours playing old school Mario with Liam.

We don't have a Wii or DS or anything like that for the kids so although their absence keeps proving itself a great thing time and time again, every once in a while I have the occasional nagging vision of my eldest son unable to "hold his own" in imagined pre-teen basement contests of manhood. So because of this, it eases my parental guilt to treat myself.... nay, to "instruct" my son in the fine time-honored tradition of gamesmanship.

Plus Mario is goddamn cool as hell...

I remember well sitting on a ratty (ratty? maybe "vomity" is a more accurate term since I never saw a rat there) couch in a ra- err.... well lived-in apartment deep in what was termed the "ghetto" next to the University of Central Florida, well-supplied with Busch but still riveted at 5am in concentration on jumping on the egg in Ice World 2 or throwing the turtle shell in order to unleash the Tanooki feather or whatever it was we were doing that I really only just now remember the details of because I recently gloriously relived them...

5am? It was more like 7am when I stumbled outside after finally defeating King Frog. Good times those were. Searching for hidden shortcuts for hours and hours, fish sandwiches, Subway drama.... good times. Mario 2 and 3... fine vintages.

GRAVY BOAT STAY IN THE NOW!!

My youngest son's birthday is 3 days before mine which is nice because it has eclipsed mine.

I suppose if I "got what I wished for" and nobody mentioned my birthday again I might miss the normal gestures of friendship and civility especially from my family but are birthday celebrations really something adults should be indulging in? Sure, maybe back in the days of influenza, famine, and invading hordes the culmination of another year of life was an achievement, something worthy of commemorating. But now? What the hell are you celebrating? The fact that you didn't crash your car?

I'm not saying you shouldn't celebrate your achievements.. you bought a nice house, graduated college, got a new job, stayed married for 10 years? Have a party!

But... you managed to live another year??

You want to celibrate life, love, and family? I've got no problem with that either... that's what Christmas, anniversaries, kid's birthdays, Mother's/Father's Day, etc and all that is for.

We've got enough freakin holidays. And, by the way, to most of you I'm talking to, our GODDAMN ENTIRE LIVES ARE HOLIDAYS!!!!

And let me emhasize, by that I don't mean you should feel guilty or that you haven't earned what you have. I'm just saying do you really feel you deserve pats on the back and a few gifts for doing F*ING NOTHING BUT MANAGING TO BREATH AIR FOR ANOTHER YEAR???

Planet Jim:

Are you under 5? You get a birthday!! It's mostly for your parents anyway but you did manage not to run out in the street and get hit by a car or stick a fork in an electrical socket so hey, here's some cake!

Are you 5 - 10? Ok, you get a birthday... mostly it's a way to get you to socialize with other kids outside of school now that we make you live in this freakish isolated suburban world but hey, here's a giant pizza! And some cake!

Are you over 10? No, you don't get a birthday... you already have enough crap, you still get Christmas, and it's about time you started learning what the world is really like so get out there and shovel the snow off the driveway before you walk 12 blocks to school...

And you don't get a birthday again until you're 1 year past the average life span.

Quite the Fiffer-feff

Yesterday was some kind of Dr. Suess appreciation day at my kids' elementary. From the evening reports, 90% of the kids did nothing, 9% taped a "Thing 1" sign to their shirt, a few kids wore Cat in the Hat hats or did their hair ala little Cindy Lou Who, 2 kids (one of which was my son) put stars on ther shirts and were the elite Sneetches, and Erin decided to be a Nook.

And no one but Erin had anything to do with it.

But you know me.....

Although Ker and I (mostly Ker) are working to get the house ready to put on the market, it was a good weekend. It was in the mid-70's and sunny the whole time... well, at least during the day, right?

Saturday night was a throwback to intown spring nights: sitting on a patio people-watching. Of course, it was at an open mall instead of the Highlands, and rather than a beer in my hand, I had a sleeping Finn on my shoulder but hey, it was great... well, except fot that thing about not having a beer.

Sunday, Liam and I did a suburban hike through a "wild" area straddling a creek wandering through developments. I'd feel more at ease hiking on a trail rather than through briars skirting backyards but he digs the whole unknown about it.... a real trail just leads to more trail. And I'm outside not scraping gum off the bathroom floor so I'm not complaining.

Then I spent a half hour watching all three of'em riding bikes up and down the driveway at the in-law's place then a little later, we're eating Subway at a new playground at sunset. Like I said, not complaining noooooooo how.

Status update

Well, it's been a while since I blogged mostly because I took the plunge and joinedthe teeming hordes on Facebook.

One advantage is has over blogging (besides the fact that people actually read some of what I write) is the fact that like the rest of our culture, it's fast and furious and can be sampled in quick bites.

One disadvantage is that it's fast and furious and can be sampled in quick bites.

I like to write long-winded rants and extended musings sometimes but I have 3 kids so I don't get the time much. So what I'm going to attempt is to blend the two.

So here's mud in yer eye!

Goodbye

My Dad died peacefully Monday November 8th at 1:38AM after almost a 4 year bout with cancer. It started in his prostate but spread. At several points, the doctors would say he could have 6 months to live (why is it always 6 months?) but he kept going on. For the most part, with pain killers, he got along ok. He went through some threatments and the side effects were bearable. He even got into some chemo that wasn't so bad. Then last year he had some type of chemo that in his words, "nearly killed" him. He basically stopped eating for 40 days.

He bounced back but there was going to be no more chemo for him. Gradually, he became more and more bed-ridden but still, he was relatively ok and usually was in pretty good spirits. Then, a month or so ago he exhibited some signs that either the illness or the drugs were getting to his mind and that's when I think he decided to leave this world.

So he stopped eating and about a week later was gone.

His memorial was exactly what I would like to have for myself. Not a gloomy affair but friends and family talking about him and a few nice speeches which included funny stories. Also, rather than have it end up at a pawnshop my Dad had given his old trombone to a proficient high schooler who played an emotional rendition of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.

Love ya, Dad.

A few of my memories that always give me a laugh were his references to any post-60's band as "degenerate rock pukes", his answer to any "Where is my..." question of "If it was up your ass, you'd know", and when I was a little kid, when I would wake up for school, I'd be in a stupor and he'd gently guide me out of my room "here you go, Jimmy" and into the wall.

By the way, I was planning on giving up this blog about a year ago but since my Dad liked to read it, I kept it going. So I'm gonna let it go and write the family stuff in my written journal... yes, an actual book. But in order to keep some kind of connection with friends, hwever tenuous that may be these days, I'm seriously considering looking into the Facebook thing that's in all the papers.

James Patrick Keough, Jr., 1940 - 2010

James P. Keough, Jr., 70, passed away at home on November 8, 2010 following a long battle with cancer.
Born August 29, 1940 in Duluth, MN, to James and Catherine Keough, deceased.
He attended Holy Rosary Grade School in Duluth and graduated from Campion Jesuit High School in Prairie du Chien, WI, 1958. He attended the University of Notre Dame for two years and graduated from the University of MinnesotaDuluth in 1962 with a degree in Business Administration.

He was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the US Air Force in 1963, retiring as a Lieutenant Colonel in 1985. Upon retirement from the military, he joined the Boeing Company on the International Space Station Program and worked at Kennedy, Marshall and Johnson Space Centers, retiring in Cape Canaveral in 2000.
Jim is survived by his wife, Barbara; son, James (Kerry) and grandchildren, James Liam, Erin Ansley and Finn Patrick; daughter, Suanne (Jason) Register; stepchildren, Jeff (Cheryl) Ellis, Leigh Ellis, and Susie Ellis (Dale) Camposano; stepgrandchildren, Heath Ellis, Drew Montes, and Cole, Victoria and Noelle Nixon; sister, Mary Patricia (Erkki) Aspelin; and brother, Kevin (Pam); nephews, Mark and Erik (Karen) Aspelin.

A celebration of life in honor of Jim is being planned for family and friends. In lieu of flowers, donations in Jim's memory may be made to Wuesthoff Brevard Hospice, 8060 Spyglass Hill Road, Viera, Florida 32940.

Madness

Big changes at work the personal result being my commute is going from 45 minutes to 15. Woo hoo!

Lots of camping.... Erin and me at a Daddy/daughter Girl Scout campout in NW Georgia.
Liam, Erin, and I at a Halloween campout with the Cub Scouts.

Listening to an endless but very entertaining Twain's "Innocents Abroad" on book tape.

Finn had his adenoids removed and, like the King from Mario 3, he's back to his old self again.

We're heading to Disney (again!) for Halloween with a bunch of Kerry's family with many going as Pixar characters. Finn will be Woody, Erin- Jessie, Liam is going to be the magician with the rabbit from one of the shorts, and me... as some might guess, I'm going to be Ken.

Disney is ripping off PBS

Until just recently with the ease of DVR (or whatever exactly the Tivo-like thing on my cable is), PBS had always been the default with the kids. Liam and Erin grew up with Clifford, Sesame Street, Thomas, Bear and the Big Blue House, Bob the Builder, Dora the Explorer, The Wiggles, and Arthur. I did end up learning the characters, many of the songs ( "I'm the map" and my personal favorite "Backpack" being just a few), and I'm still quoting lines from the Thomas shows as if they were Matrix or SuperBad references. Anyway, I know what I'm talking about when the subject of early 2000's PBS children's television comes up... as it so often does.

Before I had a family, I never thought too much of Disney's animated films. I did remember enjoying "Cinderella" and I had even saw "Beauty and the Beast" in the theater but really... the genre wasn't on my radar. Of course, having kids totally changes that and at times it seems like Disney is the only thing ON you radar but I have to admit, I did come to appreciate the classic films. "Cinderella" and "Bambi" both have moments of genius. Even some of the later ones are decent and, of course, Pixar is in a class all itself but no one really considers them "Disney", right?

Yes, they are often sappy and sometimes full of cliche but one thing I wouldn't have accused Disney of is a lack of creativity. And here, folks, is where the above ties together. Based on some of the stuff I've seen on their cable channel, however, I have to now say they are blatent rip-off artists.

All of a sudden, the Disney channel has several shows that do more than borrow from the PBS shows but instead look to steal the audience for the originals with flashier copies. First, there was "Handy Manny" with his talking tools which is an utter pirating of "Bob the Builder" and his tractors. "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" is not precisely Dora... I mean it's got the classic Disney characters but they are soulless and the whole feel of the show is like the Dora episodes with the backpack ("Toodles" in Mickey's case) being completey ripped off. If that was it I wouldn't even have noticed but then theres the "Imagination Movers" which is the Disney version of The Wiggles.

But the straw that takes the camel's cake is that goddamn Chuggington. I could go on and on about how it is inferior to the old Thomas shows but I'm only here pointing out how it's an example of the current practise of Disney of ripping off PBS.

The bastards.

Be sure to tip your waitress

"Finding Nemo" was the first movie my first son saw in the theater. It's a great movie. I have probably seen it twenty times and it's played in my house likely 40 - 60 times (and it's not even in the top 3 movies played).

Marlin the protaganist has had his wife and dozens and dozens of his childeren savagely murdered. He raises the sole survivor who is then abruptly taken from him. The whole movie is about him trying to get to his son. He finally reaches Nemo only to find (or so he thinks) him dead. He then turns his back on his only remaining friend and tears out on his own.

If it ended here, they could make: "Avenging Nemo: The Outlaw Josey Whales"

HOW TO HANDLE DIFFICULT WATER CONDITIONS

I was cleaning out my sock drawer this afternoon and found (among a lot of other things) the directions for a camping water filter I bought in... must've been the mid 90's. In it, there's a paragraph that says:

If you must purify water that is extremely cold (below 5degC/38degF) and extremely contaminated (for example, immediately downstream from a sewage outlet or livestock feedlot), pump the water throught the purifier two times.

First off, if you are next to a sewage outlet or livestock feedlot, instead of stopping to drink shit, why not walk a few more yards to a house or a building for water? I mean, I think I'd hail a farmhand before setting up to fill my nalgene bottle with the brown chunky water oozing out from under the fence. Or in the case of a sewer... if you are standing next to a "sewage outlet"... unless we're talking meteor-strike or WW3 time, I assume there must be other items of civilization around.... like a sink!!! Don't be shy now.

Second, in the extreme case that I actually find myself getting water from a sewer or livestock feedlot, I'll try to make the time to pump it through a few more times... like seven-hundred.

Hard labor

The team hiked into Panther Creek Falls today. Being one of the first relatively cool, or at least not-so-goddamn-freakin'-hot weekends in a long while, we made it a point to get out of the house. It's further than our usual haunts but I was in the mood for pushin' our limits a little.

Aaaaaaaand did it.

It's 3.6 miles to the falls and it's a long, up and down trek.... especially with a 2 year-old strapped to your back. Kerry says he's thirty pounds but that's gotta be old data. Or at least that's how I felt coming back.... another 3.6 g.d. miles.

I didn't remember it being so long! The first time I hiked in was at night and I was drinking beer as I went. Two activiteis that definitely do not go together.... and I'll be the first to admit that there are a LOT of things that do go well with drinking. It was probably twelve or thirteen years ago... back when I was a moron. There were dozens of sketchy spots along this trail where a slip-up could send you on a slide down a rock-strewn hillside if you were lucky or a quick tumble off a twenty foot drop if you weren't.

About an hour from the falls, everyone that was walking back (and there were a LOT of people on this thing today) would warn us about a yellow jacket nest. Apparently, they weren't idle warnings becasue plenty of the people also added that they had been stung. And here we are with two kids and a toddler. As the yards passed under foot, the warnings continued and the hornet scourge grew more and more fierce in our minds. When we got to the point, we hustled through. I saw nothing - no swirling mini tornado of black specks from the cartoons - but felt the dreaded something on my leg - GET IT OFF!!!!! Kerry got stung and so did Finn... he was a little upset, I mean he was crying but it wasn't the piercer and it didn't last long... pretty soon he was back to whacking me on the head with a stick for laughs.

You might wonder about this last bit but it was something I actually encouraged with silly grunts and wails. If you've had a toddler you'll understand. A laughing tyke is faaaar preferable to a screaming, crying one especially when said screamer is next to your ear. I'll take a few - actually quite a few as it turned out - hits to the skull rather than face that.

So we got to the overlook errrrr "overlooking" the falls ansd scrambled down to the little beach I remember camping on back in those zany days... yeah, real crazy... I was with two couples and I was the only one drinking and I don't believe we even went in the water. Anyway, there were tents there today along with a bunch of other people but only a few swimming. But of course Erin and I had to jump in.... Liam did too after watching us for a while. Even Finn played at the edge throwing in sticks and laughing at the romping Labs.

It was a little iffy about how long it would take us to get out and we knew Finn would soon be nearing the limit of how long he would put up with sitting in the pack. We had let him out once along the way and again at the pool but we knew he was going to hit his wall. Anyway, so we hoofed it back at a pretty quick pace. Finn did end up crying in my ear a lot and he sure wasn't any lighter on the trip back but we made it. I was a hating pup at the end... very tired and my shoulders just screaming bloody murder. I was very impressed that neither Erin or Liam whined at all or even made a single comment about being tired.

Then cheeseburgers at the grandparents... a pretty damn good day.

Neptune's Convoy

Here's a little ol'contrast I just noticed last night....

The first drink of a beer is often the best, and is sometimes even replete with majesty in moments like this. But as for the harder stuff, or whiskey as the case may be, the first sip of a double-shot on the rocks - though bracing - is hardly enjoyable to the tastebuds. I'd say the last one, slowly emerging from rolling and sliding thin-film amongst the cubes is the good'un.