Violet

  
 

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It's going to rain all weekend....

....putting me in just the right frame of mind for this post.

See the nice trees?
 They are no more. Their main problem was that they were surrounding an old abandoned farmhouse, in the middle of a field. And if I were a farmer, I probably would have done the same thing....

.....and bring in a bulldozer and excavator.
 You could hear the crack of the trees, like so many old, useless bones that were just in the way. The scent of pine drifted down the hill, as evergreens succumbed along with the others.

And then the weathered walls were heaped in a pile, along with the trees-weeds, which had proudly stood upright moments before.
 A huge fire to remove any evidence of what had been....

It burned and smoldered until one morning, there was just a little puff of white smoke left....and then....that too, was gone.
 

No more of this.

Silly Ma. They weren't your trees, after all.

Silly, silly Ma.
  

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Happy Birthday....(!!)

....to one of the daughters, who is 23 today. (you know who you are) I can't mention specific names, because it occurs to me that I did not make a big deal on the blog when another daughter turned 21, but that was partly due to the fact that she was and is in France, though, to be technically correct, she is in Germany for this week until her classes start back up at Ye Olde Université after la break, where I believe (among other things) they are encouraged not to write run-ons or grammatically awkward sentences.

Too bad that we can't get together with the 23-year-old, but then, I think she has special celebrations of her own planned, such as going back to the oral surgeon for her week-after-the-extraction check-up. Just see what fun times you can have if you get your degree...

How-EVER, I do feel we could round up the strays to come to the phone and sing "Happy Birthday" in our own special way--just as we did for the unnamed daughter who turned 21. Namely, we first do it straight, then a country version, followed by opera. We have made great pains over the years to be inclusive in musical style. And one of these days, I hope to work up a really snappy rap rendition.

In the event that your cohorts at work have discovered it is your birthday and have whisked you away to an evening of balloons and noisemakers, we humble country folk will try to call you on Saturday. Morning. Starting at seven and thereafter at five-minute intervals.

No, no. It is not any trouble at all. We just want you to be happy....

OR....I have just had a SPLENDID idea :-D  We can all jump in the car and come down to where you work and be your own personal singing telegram! Your co-workers would be terribly jealous, naturally. But not everyone can be lucky enough to come from a large family who lives amidst cultural opportunities so numerous they shall remain unenumerated. Just don't tell them we live on a gravel road, or it would probably push them over the edge....

Ma's Best Birthday Advice: It's all about naps. Naps are good. Naps make for more coherent posts. There is nothing to fear from a nap...which is why.....I am going to take one....right....now....
 

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Apple Blossom Time

  
Not sure which is prettier, the bud or the blossom. Both, I guess.

I thank the Lord we don't have winter all year 'round.
 

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Be advised.....

  
....that temporarily filching Mom's camera and taking a photo of oneself is not the smartest move.

"NO-LAN.....!!"
 

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Technology.....

......sometimes it's just STUPID.

As in this morning.

It was still dark when Loren left for work this morning. At least, I think it was dark....it's so hard to tell things when it's.....well....dark.

The task he gave to me was pretty simple, really. Just call up the good folks at Mayo, and have them fax some info down to the doc in Ames who had just performed Loren's recent DOT physical for work.

The first snag occurred when I was informed that an authorization was needed for such a fax as this. Did I happen to have a fax machine? the nurse queried. Then they could fax me the authorization papers, which would need to be signed and faxed back, before they could then fax the medical info down to Ames.

Why yes! Indeed I did have a combination copier, printer, fax machine and food processor. Wasn't life grand, living in the age of technology?

Of course, there was the little matter of figuring out how to re-ceive the fax, but hey, how hard could that be?

"Give me ten minutes to try, and then if it doesn't go through, call me back," said the nurse.

The phone rang twice and Ma immediately started pushing buttons, which the phone appeared to ignore, as it continued to ring. Except for that button where I suddenly heard a dial tone....then, by strange coincidence, the ringing stopped.

At this point, I reverted to plan B....calling Loren. "Hey, I just tried to call you, Becky....." *groan* So, instead of not receiving a fax, I had missed Loren's phone call. Oh well. Instructions about resetting the menu were given, which I pulled up and started flipping through....."JASON! C'mere a minute!"

*dutiful son comes and peers over shoulder* "Yeah, that looks right."

*call back to Mayo with happy voice* "OK, all set. Try it again."

The phone rang. I pushed the magic button. Sounds of a fax coming through....."YAY! I did it! I'm receiving a fax!" *Ma dances around the room*

"What's this....?"

Message Confirmation Report: [no answer]

"AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"

*several more FUTILE attempts*

It would seem the situation will be remedied by snail mail. In the meantime, there is the little job of getting the menu back to its original settings....of which I do not remember. AND, while fiddling around, I think I accidentally reset another part of the menu, quite possibly repositioning a few of NORAD's defense tracking satellites.

I hope that's not going to be a problem.

*quietly turns off machine*

(It's a good thing we don't own any guns....)

You know, I think I'll just resume the original plans for the day...taking the kids to two libraries. It will consume most of 5 hours, but at least I'll have tangible proof that I did something.
 

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(more) Trevorisms

 
The scene:   preparing a 4-year-old for his afternoon nap

"...so, I think you could just wear your underwears to nap, instead of putting on this pull-up...."

*silence*

"....because, you're always dry after nap, and you even stay dry all night!.....*encouraging smile*....."

*more silence*

"...and then, we wouldn't have to take off your shoes, take off your underwear and put on a pull-up and everything...so....wouldn't you like to just wear your underwears for nap, today?" *really hopeful smile*

"No...I'm not weady fo dat..."
______________________

(coming in from outside)

"Mommy...I saw a SWAP!"

"A wh....? Do you mean a wasp?"

"YES. It was wight over dere !"

*blinks*
  

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Junior Delegates

 
As promised, a picture of Ma's politicos.

I have people.

People in places.

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.
______________________

Behold Kendra and Derek, freshly snapped after their return from the District Republican Convention, last Saturday.

Today....the district. Come June.....the state. And then....dare I say it?.....Liechtenstein! Sweet, sweet Liechtenstein!

Oh alright....they may not have political aspirations, but it was a good experience for them, nonetheless. (even if a professional little 11-year-old in high heels and executive dress was voted to be the chairman of the junior delegation)

MY kids were able to attend the Jim Nussle breakfast. *looks smug* AND, they were seated at the table with Bill Dix and his wife. In CLOSE proximity, actually. There were photographers and everything.

I'm sure national exposure will only be a matter of time.

Fast forward to last evening, when Loren and I received a call from Pastor John, who was phoning on behalf of Bill Dix, from his very home!

The conversation went something like this:

"....so Becky, would you be willing to vote for Bill Dix?"

"Of course!"

"You would?" *sounds surprised*

"Oh sure! I just saw his commercial this morning...looks like a nice guy with a real nice family."

"Well, that's great..."

"Besides, my kids got to eat breakfast last Saturday with Jim Nussle. They sat at the same table with Bill Dix and his wife."

"Oh....I didn't know about that...."

"Well, it was just for im-portant people." *grins*

This was when the negotiations for a lawn sign began, but I told him that was pretty iffy, since I was married to one of those people that doesn't care for yardish promotions. (and let me tell you, it's JUST that kind of attitude that has put a real crimp in my endorsement of N.O.W.)

I've known about ol' Bill for years. I actually got to talk to him on the phone once, when I'd had trouble signing Ardith up as a junior delegate. He replied, "I'll take care of it. We surely don't want to keep anyone from being a junior delegate who wants to!"

He's a decent guy and gets my vote for the rest of his life, as far as I'm concerned.

And the moral of this story is...be nice to junior delegates. Even if they can't vote, their parents do :-) 
 

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Ma's Consumer Product Marketing Review

Taking advantage of my latest trip to the BIG CITY, I stopped in at the Waterloo Super Wal-Mart on my way home. It's a chance to shop at a larger store, it's open 24 hours, and well....it's just so super.

Noticing a few new products, my curiosity got the better of me and I snapped photos of what seem to be particularly interesting marketing strategies.

Here we have....."Frank's Totally Tomato Ketchup."
 
Now, the very first thing that catches the eye is the homey title, "Frank's."   Right away this tells us two things:
1) It's not made by some big-time ketchup giant who's CEO has just retired with a 700 million dollar pension. No sir. This is just plain ol' Frank, a guy who probably started bottling and selling the stuff right out of his kitchen.

We get the feeling that Frank is an older guy ('cause NO-body names their kid "Frank" anymore) and that he is just so nice, you wanna call him by his first name.

In other words, Frank cares.

2) The name "Frank" is actually a subtle reference to his character. He is honest and forthright. Basically, Frank is frank.

You just wouldn't get the same feeling with "Josh's Totally Tomato Ketchup." I mean, was Josh being completely serious? Or was he....ummmm.....sorta kiddin' around?

By the same token, another real turn-off would be "Sneaky Osama's Totally Tomato Ketchup." At least, that's my take on it.

But let us move on to the phrase, "totally tomato." This is implying, of course, that the other brands contain ingredients non-tomato in nature. Like...say, eggplant spray-painted red.

OR, this could simply be an appeal to the younger set, with the idea that, "This ketchup is...like....so totally cool, man."

And then, it is always possible that the "totally" refers to action taken in the tomato's processing. The consumer may rest assured that each plump red fruit has been thoroughly smashed, or "totaled."

In the end, it is a relief to see that the alternate spelling of "catsup" has not been utilized, which conjures up a variety of disturbing thoughts as to the condiment's content.

But the very best reason to try "Frank's Totally Tomato Ketchup" is the label's guarantee that money will be refunded should the product not be considered adequately tasty. Hopefully, you will not have lost your receipt by the time the bottom of the bottle is reached....
________________________

Moving on to the heady topic of shampoo, we see here a choice between two products for dry/damaged hair. (click to enlarge) One contains amino proteins and one does not.
 
While it is difficult to discern if hair--which consists of dead cells--would actually benefit from the administration of this nutrient, it sure does look good.

Also, these choices can only serve to confuse the consumer, which marketers always consider a plus. The confused shopper is an impulse shopper. Confuse them and there is always the possibility that someone will just buy both.

But I say, why stop with amino proteins? Why not add Fish Oil, whose essential fatty acids are known to reduce cholesterol? Aside from the distinct advantage of having heart-healthy hair, there would be the added bonus of cat attractability. Clearly, a win-win situation.

Whatever you do, keep in mind the real purpose of studying shampoo labels, and don't just take a picture and then forget to purchase and take it home to your family.....
________________________________

I caught this little gem while waiting in the checkout line.
 
Isn't it funny how you can go along in life and not even realize how much you need something...like....hair glaze, Brussels sprouts, or a Chia Pet?

But getting back to hair glaze....I SURE hope this is not the same stuff they put on donuts. I just have this horrible picture of flies buzzing around Tom Hank's head. (well, maybe that wouldn't be so bad...)

I guess it comes down to this: if you're gonna put out something as bizarre as "hair glaze," at LEAST give it a dual purpose.

Take fingernail polish. Not only does it make feminine claws look more attractive, it doubles as a credible run-stopper in pantyhose. (just don't put it over tick bites. We tried that once and had nasty results)

I'm thinkin' a little addition to the product labeling....something with more flair.....such as, "Frank's Totally Tomato Hair Glaze--with Amino Proteins."

Maybe.

Well, that's all for today's version of MCPMR.

This is "Ma," encouraging you to be skeptical, read labels carefully, and most importantly.....just put the camera away and leave the store quietly if you hear these words over the intercom,

"Security to aisle six !" 
 

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The REAL scoop on Ardith's tooth loss

Yes, it can now be told, especially since certain people have given only the barest glimpse of actual events. Mostly though, the statute of limitations concerning blabbing about dental work is remarkably short.

SO, it all went like this…..

Ardith drove my car as I carefully took note of the route needed to get her back to her place. (I decided not to include all those wrong turns we took getting to the office, which were the fault of killer one-way streets)

She checked in and immediately they suggested a certain amount should be paid up front, “Since you won’t be able to, afterward.”

Oh. That’s REAL comforting…

Ardith hands me a form promising to escort her home after the surgery. I happily sign with great flourish, completely missing the part about “staying with the patient for 24 hours.”

She heads through the doors and I call after her, “Ask the doc if I can come back and take pictures….!”    “Noooooo……”

Hmm, I hope I didn’t embarrass her….

In what seemed an incredibly short time, they came out and said I could pull around to the side door. (this is where relatives spirit away the patients, so as to prevent those awkward scenes where patients walk back through the waiting room, mouths stuffed with gauze and dripping blood, not to mention weaving from the anesthetic)

I was SHOCKED. I mean, it had only been 30 minutes. I’d barely had time to put two words into my “Challenger” crossword puzzle….you know, the one I’d started up at Mayo in early 2005.

Pulling around to the “white door, ” I went in to find a rather conscious Ardith, with IV still in the ol’ arm. “Uh…” I said to the nurse, “does this mean I should go turn off the car?”

Anyway, the daughter looked really good and I learned three things:
-she’d needed no stitches
-gauze was supposed to be changed at 5
-this method of tooth extraction seemed quite preferable to our dentist’s hammer and chisel approach to wisdom teeth.

Oh yes, this was when I learned she was supposed to have someone with her for 24 hours. “I’m sure we can work something out,” I snowed the nurse.

On the way back to Ardith’s apartment, she kept scribbling furiously on the back of her post-op instructions, in lieu of my not being able to understand her cotton-impaired speech. Apparently though, she felt quite comfortable with me reading while I was driving.... This is an excellent example of the "post-anesthesia euphoric phase." It’s really quite cute, how people who’ve been drugged are so communicative. (You should see Loren after an angiogram. REAL chatty and happy—completely unlike his normal self)

Despite Ma’s driving, we both made it safely back, where it was me—not Ardith—who tripped going up the stairs. Twice. This is the price one pays for wearing long narrow shoes. Sure, they make your oversized feet look thin, but falling and breaking a leg is also an option. The various risks should be weighed carefully. Even worse, if you go to the doctor, you will be weighed.

But getting back to my selfless errand of mercy……Ardith demonstrated a fair presence of mind by capably unlocking her door, and we entered into her abode for a nice rest. Since she has few real chairs, this mostly means sitting on the floor. Not that I’m complaining, or anything. It’s really nothing for an out-of-shape woman of 47 with creaky joints to raise and lower herself to the floor.

Ardith took up a reclining position in front of her TV screen, and proceeded to gain experience, power and points by way of “Star Ocean.” Despite the post-op suggestion to administer ice packs, she declined, owing to the fact that she felt pretty well. And then, ice packs would severely inhibit any Play Station 2 action, and how would Fayt ever be reunited with all that he knows and loves? (not to mention a really good hair stylist)

Ah, the dilemmas of interstellar space.

And actually, the patient was doing so very well, that we came to the executive decision—us both deeming ourselves executive material—that it was safe to leave Ardith alone with her games and books. It did not appear that she was in imminent danger of lurching against any walls.

And that be the gist of things, proving once again, that no matter how trivial the happening, with very little effort, Ma can make quite a big deal out of it.

Y’all have an ortho good day, now.
 

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What I learned today

**Wally World is not a store with that name, but a cute reference to Wal-Mart. Got this info from one of its newest employees, Slader. I think I should have known this....but maybe it is a term restricted to Texas.

**If you are eagerly seeking a picture of the loveliest songster in the world--the Western Meadowlark--you may get a chance while out on a walk....but just before the great moment a farmer will come down the lane and scare it off.

IF however, you are out digging a small flower bed, with two little kids watching and talking (with-out your camera, because let's face it.....who in their right MIND would place a nice piece of electronics alongside a rake and shovel in the wheelbarrow) the Meadowlark will alight on the top of a nearby pine, breaking into song, with perfect lighting, and stay there until 20 seconds before your son returns with your camera.
 

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Lamb proving the old saying......

 
"The grass is always greener...."

Took this after church, which proves that, while you may be in an Iowan town, you're still really just in the country.

Tomorrow is an early wake-up for Loren (and I). Four-thirty.

But I'll worry about that in the morning. Current conditions are quite gorgeous. As well as having a most intesting IM chat with Ardith, the weather is beautiful--seventies and sunny.

The kids are outside playing "Commando" like the good little conservative future Republicans they might be.... 
 

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Plum tree blossoms looking peachy

  
 

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High tension macramé

  

I first saw this in the early morning, while taking Kendra and Derek to New Hartford. Thankfully, there was no one coming in the opposite lane, since I did swerve a tiny bit in mid-gawk.

Obviously, someone really should have had the foresight to place them somewhere other than adjacent to a curve.

The kids recovered quite nicely, however.

ANYWAY, Derek and Kendra were on their way to meet their ride to Independence, where they represented Butler County as Junior Delegates in the District Republican Convention. We'll have a full report later, as the situation warrants. Hopefully, my resolution to make "Out Ioway" the state blog was accepted by acclamation....

But getting back to New Hartford, it is the only town I know of which allows parking down the MIDDLE of the street. Is that weird, or what?

Naturally, I took a picture. Just as naturally, I forgot to load it for posting. But Ma is contemplating how to include it, even now, and with a different size...

(OHhhh yeah. WHO da Ma!)

In the meantime, I shall regale you with my latest exploit of road kill, or as I like to refer to it, "Utilizing the automobile as a hunting tool."

FIRST of all, it was an accident.

All of my combustion-engine encounters with the animal world have been complete and total accidents. I wish to be quite clear on that.

So, I was traveling home again, taking in the beautiful scenery, when I suddenly became aware of a reddish brown flash on the road, followed by a distinct THUD.

"Oh boy. Probably hit someone's cat." So I turned around and went slowly back to survey the carnage.

It was just a squirrel.

"WHEW!" NO going up to the doorstep to deliver the sad news. (which I have done, before)

This brings Ma's total road kill count to:
-one squirrel
-two cats (neither of the owners minded, in the least--they had so MANY)
-one deer
-two pheasants
-several nondescript smaller birds
-one seagull (yes, you heard me--here in the middle of Iowa....)
-one badger
-one gopher

RESOLVED:  : to not look up in the air, so much, while driving.
 

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Squatters

 
Demonstrating yearly attempts to irk Ma, the Annoying Corn Bandit has returned and taken up residence in the unfinished breezeway, which is situated between the unfinished addition and the unfinished garage.

I am not amused.

And I'll just bet there are unwanted spawn hiding underneath, somewheres.

Nice job on chewing the studs, eh? And also on nibbling the foam sheets into attractive pink globules.

This will not stand...
 

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The Return of Farmer Frey

  
Big, big doin's up at the acreage, today.

Morning brought a pick-up, its bed piled high with seed bags. Looks like plantin' time!

Guess that pretty much cancels little boys' school for today. Let them learn in the big outdoors, then.

Just as well, as I am making a run down to Cedar Rapids about noonish, so as to administer vital assistance to daughter Ardith. What vital assistance, you ask? Does she need help with some particularly difficult piece of code for a program? Does the CEO of Rockwell Collins need to ask my advice on the government's use of satellites?

Very nearly as important. Ardith is getting four teeth extracted right after lunch and requires someone not under the influence of drugs to drive her back to her apartment. (this is just a suggestion, dear, but I would have a heavy lunch....)

And so, Ma to the rescue.

*sigh*

It's so hard to be in constant demand. I simply abhor the thought of foregoing daily kiddie squabbles and the militaristic enforcement of math drills. And I'm gonna miss those repetitive lesson pieces cheerily banged out on the piano, and everyone asking, "When's lunch?" At five minute intervals.

Oh yeah. But the toughest part, by far, will be the ninety minute drive down, with no one's radio station sensibilities to think of but my own.

If I get bored, I can always stop and take a picture or two. Though frankly, the thought of having that kind of freedom is....well.....scary.

But you know what? It's OK. I can do it and I can take it because...I'm tough.

That's right. The same person that has sifted through old garbage bags to find a lost receipt, can get up the courage to offer soothing balm to a tooth-yanked child/young adult/person-in-her-own-right-who-happens-to-be-related.

Perhaps I can even get a few gory pictures of oozy gums. I'm sure it wouldn't entail more than a couple of signed releases. Possibly forged.

Wish me luck, and don't worry. I'll be just fine.

Really.

*drives off singing....*
 

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The Ma Side

 
....Evil Eddie Grackle tilted his head at different angles, experiementing with his new "Go For the Burned Worm" contact lenses. Yes.....they would work well. Very well indeed......
 

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Fowl Water Ballet

 
 

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You've got mail

Three copies of the LeTourneau's NOW magazine, to be exact.

Let's see...one for the ol' folks (Loren and moi), one for Jason (a freshman-to-be next year), and one for Ardith....whom the university apparently thinks lives at home and commutes 90 minutes to her software engineering job at Rockwell Collins in Cedar Rapids.

Clearly, there has been a sad lack of assessment in this whole area. What is needed is a comprehensive program to identify the precise whereabouts of all alumni and the possible overlap of NOW mailings. I'm talkin' focus groups, surveys AND feedback. Preferably of the electronic variety. And that's just for starters.

If this were done right, someone could conceivably work out their Master's Thesis AND produce a whole new level of quality concerning alumni whereabouts-slash-mailings, at the same time. Saves on excess paperwork....and we all know how vitally important that is.
_______________

Speaking of surveys, I received one concerning my annual physical check-up. You remember, the one that took place THREE WEEKS ago.

It seems they want me to recall how many minutes I waited before being taken back to the exam room, as well as how much time elapsed before the nurse practitioner came into the room.

*sigh*

You know, this would be a lot easier if they just passed the papers out when you walk in the clinic door. Then I could calmly check off the.....*counts*....41 points in.....*counts again*......6 different categories as I go.

However, the survey IS quite helpful in describing how to mark the questions: correct marks being circles around one of the five numbers, but absolutely no slashes vertically or horizontally, and no forward or backward diagonals.

Oh yes, NO checkmarks.

I can see my chances of grad school, just slipping away....

All this gets sent to a Survey Processing Department in.....South Bend, Indiana :-) A mere two states distant. ("We survey because we care")

Couldn't help but notice a few glaring ommisions in the questionnaire:

• no reference to cold instruments or cold hands,
  and most importantly,
  
• no chance to vote any of the doctors off the island

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Unable to meet the sun's dazzling brilliance.....

 
....the daffodil turned its eye toward the cooling shades of earth and grass.
 

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What I learned today

1) If one is out walking in the morning, with a camera and transistor radio, whenever one turns the camera off or on--within six to eight inches of where said radio is clipped to one's belt--a short burst of static will occur.

This means theoretically, that if I got close enough, I could disrupt NASA's communications.

and,

2) Regrettably, it would seem I am not telepathic.

Don't ask me how I know, it's just a feeling.....
 

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Deeming it safe to come out.....

 
....the Grape Hyacinth emerged from the loam, only to find a stunted interloper groping and grasping alongside. The original flower, momentarily bewildered, continued on its way.

A single tear clung to the violet face, a reminder of the passing discomfiture.
 

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Bad day

Did you ever have one of those days, when you spent two hours working on what seemed to be a very worthwhile project, only to have it all go to naught?

Or even worse, go down to get a load out of the dryer, and discover you forgot to fill up the washer again?

AAARRRGGGHHH!

Well, there is nothing for it, but to put on Bach's Brandenburg Concertos and start cruising the web for funny stories.....in between making bread, doing laundry and other assorted excitements.

Starting off on an erudite note, the English language will soon have it's 1 millionth word. I especially like the advice at the end...."If you get stumped, just make up a word." Just don't make it up out of nothing.

But instead, this fellow nodded off, causing quite an alarm. Take it from Ma, having too much to say can be just as frustrating.

From near my old stomping grounds.....how come this never happens when we go to the library? Not the first thing to be completely off course this week, I'm sure...

People of Canada, be on your guard....squirt-guns may soon be banned. At least those harmless spud-launchers will still be legal. Me? I'm pretty peaceful, myself.

But THIS gives me cause to wonder. Please.....don't tell my kids.

And there you have it, from the sublime and all, to the ridiculous.
 

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The Ma Side

 
Every day, the old lady sat typing in near proximity to her philodendron. Every day, she exhibited more plant-like characteristics, until one day....
 

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Do not awaken while dreaming

 
You could lose significant amounts of gray matter. 

(far-off tunnel) "Mommy..."

"MMMmmmm....." (awakening from dreadful dream involving shopping and forgetting to buy Dove's Dark Chocolates)

"Mommy...."

"What...d'you.....*thinks*....want...."

"I want juice."

"I'm....trying.....to....wake....up"

*throw on robe, stumble down stairs, pour juice* "This is all you get. When this is gone, I'm not buying any more" *yawn* *clump back upstairs, rummage through drawer, realize item sought for is in dryer, in basement*

*clump down two flights of stairs*

*clump back up*

*realize something else is missing...*

*clump back down*

*clump back up*

(wow, if this continues, I won't need to go on the treadmill....)

*finally start exercising. View news segment on "When women don't get enough sleep."*

"I went to a sleep study and they discovered I woke up 245 times in one night." (in other words, not unlike a night with a new baby)

Ha ha, ha ha, ha. This is so very funny. Almost as funny as the little article on REM at Wikipedia...

Most of the vividly recalled dreams occur during REM sleep. It is the lightest form of sleep, and people awakened during REM usually feel alert and refreshed.

This is one little girl who didn't wake up feeling refreshed. I'd count the number of brain cells I lost, but the cells I lost were the ones that count.

I think.
 

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Blessed Easter

  

Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life

Romans 6:4
 

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Trevorisms

 
*yard work stops to fix shoe*

"Mommy! You are WILWY good at putting on shoes !"

*grin*

"Why, thank you. You are very kind to say so."
_________________

Me: "Trevor....what's your middle name?"

*thinks*

Nolan: "It's James."

Trevor: "No it's not! It's Boogie Woogie !"

*copious blinking and laughter*
 

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Lessons from the Janitor's Closet

• Regret: discovering the sink has not been cleaned after mopping the bathroom floor
  
• Futility: washing the big glass doors on a day when storms are forecast
  
• Gruesomity: slurping up 1000 lady bird beetles with the vacuum
  
• Morbidity: hearing said beetles whirl around inside the canister on one's back
  {9:55 edit}Stenchability: the smell that makes you wonder if the soybean aphid was really all that bad....
  

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Spring Evening

 
 

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Significant Verbalizations

Every book Trevor "reads" these days is "hi-war-ious."

For some reason, I find the idea of a four-year-old using that word "a-moo-zing."
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Upon returning home from mailing several mysterious packages, and knowing Jason had been using my prized Wells Lamont gloves to aid in the *gray line sewer-ditch clean-out, and having ONLY his emotional welfare in mind, I queried,

"So, did you have fun ?"

"Oh yeah. It was so rockin' awesome."

*whips around incredulously*

"You got that from Le-Tour-neau, didn't you!?"

*grinning* "No....I've used that before..."

"Young man, I am putting this in your ePortfolio!"

*for those not "into" sewer talk, "gray line" refers to the output from the washer, bathroom and kitchen sinks and tubs, that is channeled via a secret underground pipe out to the (neighbor's) ditch. Every so often, the sludgey deposit has to be cleared away from the pipe opening. We hardly notice the smell unless the wind is blowing in the wrong direction.
 

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Taken yesterday.....

 
.....while searching for birds more modest in size.

No doubt, this helicopter is ferrying a patient to the hospital or on its way to pick one up. Must have been serious enough to forego the usual racing ambulance. Look familiar, Loren? You may have ridden in this very machine. Twice. I wonder if they told the family that each trip costs 10 grand...
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Speaking of wondrous things, have you heard this girl's story? Absolutely incredible. I wasn't even aware this type of surgery existed. But then, I've led a pretty sheltered life. Any knowledge I have in this realm is restricted to defibrillators, weirdly inherited cardiomyopathies and traditional heart transplants.

I do hope the girl and the above traveler had good outcomes.

Thank God for normalcy, eh?
 

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Surprised by......

....glimpsing a falling star on the way home from prayer meeting last night. Made wish to be thin.

*looks in mirror*

Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

....Trevor waking up third night in a row totally dry. Nice.

....Loren coming home early from work. At LUNCHtime. Com-PLETELY threw off my equilibrium.

....storm blowing up with puffy clouds. Managed to transplant already growing daffidils before rain hit. (can you do that?)
 

....puffy clouds expanding and blushing with the sunset.
  
God's handiwork is maginficent.
 

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What is it?

 
1) Cheese run amok
2) The latest in appetite suppressants
3) Death Star de Fromage
4) A lawsuit, waiting to happen
5) Quality Enhancement Plan Adjective (QEPA)
6) ........

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Iowa....where you can see the sunrise

 
 
 

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In Pursuit of Quality

Having just read through most of the Quality Enhancement Plan for LeTourneau University, it has become quite clear that I've fallen down on the job.

I refer to homeschooling, or as we say in nontraditional education circles, Home Schooling. (HS)

I have convened a quick focus group--containing one member--and the preliminary assessment of current educational deficits include:

• lack of acronyms
  
• lack of focus groups
  
• lack of committees
  
• lack of sub-committees
  
• lack of snappy titles
  
• lack of confusing and totally useless educational jargon
  
• lack of business-speak language
  
• lack of ePortfolios

That's a lot 'o lacks, or as we say in Home Schooling Circles (HSC), an Unacceptable Quantity of Unquantified Items Requiring Remedialactualization (UQUIRR).

But not to fear, Ma has a plan! Let it not be said that we of the HSC are loathe to keep up with today's technology, or what is more important, today's burgeoning bureaucracy.

Even now, I am in the process of assembling various focus groups who will immediately begin brainstorming on the important matters of outcomes, assessments, surveys and implementation activities.

These are exciting times we live in, people. (may I call you that? Thanks. Just call me "Ma") And I am sure, that within a few short years and a minimum of a gazillion committee meetings, we will have this ironed out and a tidy 50 page report in your hands. (a shorter, monosyllabic synopsis will be available for those of the "less than knowledgeable population.")

For example, take this potty-training business.....(please!)....we realize, somewhat tardily, that this whole process could have fallen into the category of "Meal Survey," (MS) or "Digestive Outcomes," (DO) or.....or something. The "what" is not nearly as important as finding a really big word to describe it. And even more critical than naming is the assessment that should have taken place after each....umm....causatum.

I imagine that had little Junior known his potty-training efforts/failures/successes would have been recorded in an ePortfolio, he might just have tried a little harder, a little sooner. The foundational item being, not "what" or "when," but that it has been duly burned onto a CD.

Naturally, the child/educational component's chronicle will come in quite handy when the time rolls around for college application. But I say, why just a CD? Why not a DVD? That way, the college can actually observe the child blossom from 1st grade nose-picking, to 12th grade nit-picking over which word for Mom's Educational Outcomes Assessment Survey (MEOAS) is the most impressive--while still retaining that intrinsic quality of torpid nonsensicality.

In color.

With surround sound.

Quite possibly, a little academic learning will take place in-between-times. And, even if no knowledge is absorbed, at least we'll have a record of it.

But for now, I need to get right down to the hard business of appointing ad-hoc committees, developing surveys and cultivating moral intentionality.

There's no time to waste.

Education is at stake.....
 

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The Report be Goodsome

First of all, Ardith and Jason have made it safely back to their respective abodes. Trevor was so glad to see his "best guy" that he ran up with a huge grin and pounded on him :-D

I think that's one of those ancient male-bonding rituals for "Welcome home."

Also, Ma's cholesterol test results came in the mail. (It's always a good sign when they don't call you on the phone with test results)

*drum roll*

209 for total cholesterol !! (they like it under 200)

100 for LDL (bad chol.) Ideal is less than 100

100 for HDL (good chol.) Ideal is 32-96

(don't ask me how they came up with a total of 209, from two 100's. I know math was never my strongest subject, but hey.....)

45 Triglycerides (should be under 150)

Here is the note from the Nurse Practitioner:

Hi Rebecca, I am giving you an A+ on your cholesterol. Even though the total cholesterol is 209 - your HDL is excellent. Keep up your good work!!

I guess all that oatmeal is finally paying off :-) not to mention the dark chocolate.

I would like to draw special attention to the "A+"

*bows modestly*

As well as the "excellent."

Autographs available upon request.

(for a nominal fee)
 

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The Jim-Bob Report....the Iowa/Dijon Nexus

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Jim McDonald and tonight we have an interesting report on the connection between two seemingly unrelated objects. You've no doubt heard of the theory of Six Degrees of Separation. Well, this evening we intend to put that theory to the test, only not with people, but with cities. My colleague, Bob MacCackle has the fascinating details. Bob? Whaz up?"

"Whoa! Jimbo....easy on the trendy yet uncharacteristic slang....(by the way, it's "whaz up," ol' buddy)....*cough*....Well Jim, it all started with a little misprint. Seems one of those Hoyt kids, who happens to be studying abroad in France, purchased a train ticket with the intention of visiting Germany. For some unknown reason, the ticket's shipping address was stamped Dijon, Iowa. Naturally our curiosity was piqued."

"Whoa yourself, Bobbo! I didn't even realize you knew what "piqued" meant."

"Oh, fer sure, Jim. This unwitting routine is just a ruse I use to get the locals to confide in me. Nobody 'round here's rich enough to pay me for good press....*muttered*....those clowns in New York are SO lucky....."

"Right, Bob....but getting back to the French Connection...."

"Oh yeah....well Jim, if people can find associations between two seemingly unrelated people, why not two unrelated cities? We wanted to find an undeniable link between Dijon and Iowa."

"But Bob, Dijon is a city and Iowa is a state..."

"Yes, Jim, but a very sparsely populated state. The inhabitants of Iowa are roughly equivalent in number to that of a modest city in Europe. I know it's a stretch, but as reporters, we can make or break people, statistics and facts. It's what we do, my friend."

".....*laughing*.....Now Bob, you old extortionist, you. So, what did you come up with?"

"Well Jim, there's an AWFUL lot of references to recipes using Dijon mustard. Mostly from electric co-op rags...uh, I mean publications. In fact, I picked up a nice little vinaigrette that you are just gonna love...."

"That's all very good, Bob. But do we have anything of a more substantive nature? Like, say.....a main dish, or something?"

"Even better, Jim. It took fifteen pages on Google but I found it! Great stuff. All about the Icarians, whose founder was born in Dijon, and whose followers ended up in Iowa. Of course, they made a few unfortunate stops first, in Texas and New Orleans, but hey, Jim, nobody's perfect. The important thing is...the connection. Dijon to Iowa. Another well-intentioned, idealistic communal group gone bust....*sniff*....man....it's just so moving....*sob*....'scuse me, Jim. I....I'm havin' a moment, here....."

"That's OK, Bob. We're used to it....*turns toward audience*.....And that's our report for tonight, folks. Tune in next time, when we start a brand new series on towns in the midwest. It will be a regular feature which we've entitled, The Long Road Back-and-Forth in Iowa."

"For Bob MacCackle, this is Jim McDonald....good-night."
 

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Call me Junco

 
While I was snapping this birdie's photo, I heard a "tap, tap, tapping" behind me. Sensing it was too bright outside for this to be a visit from Poe's raven, I quietly walked over to the pine trees, looked up and saw a woodpecker :-) Oh joy! Probably a Downy Woodpecker. Unfortunately, the pictures of him came out blurry, but I have hopes to catch the cute bug-eater for posterity, sometime in the future.
 

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A Day of Firsts

First day Trevor woke up, staying dry all night....yay, Trevor!

First day well into the 70's....yay, weather!

First day to use the air conditioner in the car....yay, leather upholstery! (OK, I was kidding)

First day to start pitching stones from the ditch back out on the road. Thanks to the zealous road-grader-guy, we have even more than usual....not to mention some sod which was upended.....Yay, Mr. Road-Grader! (oh wait, that was supposed to be a "boo")

First day in a long time that Ma bought groceries for under *** dollars. (Wonder if it has something to do with Jason being gone?)...Yay, Ma! And why didn't you do this sooner ?

First time Ardith had car trouble....she and Jason are stuck somewhere north of Kansas City, where "the part" will hopefully arrive by noon, tomorrow. Let's hope Trevor can hold out one more day.....

(more firsts as they develop....)

{9:20 p.m. Ma decides NOT to add any more--a definite first for the compulsive revisor....drawing a resounding "Yay!" from all readers.....}
 

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The Ma Side

 
"Fred, I de-clare....you are SO absent-minded. Why, if you didn't already have your head attached, you'd likely lay it down somewheres and forget all...about....Fred? FRED.....?!? "
 

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Red sky at night.....

 
....too bad you have to get up at 4:30 in the morning
 

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It must be Spring

 
 

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Iowa makes the NYT

Here is a nice little article on the town of Oxford...or rather, the people of the town.

This is a free site, though you may have to register, first.

Notice the reference to rural poetry and rural wisdom :-)

And I'm wonderin' if that one guy is related to us.....
 

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The Ma Side

 
Dyslexic geese doing the Flying "J" formation
 

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A note to dirt-bikers........

.....who think they are cool:

I suggest that you not zip around Ma on the car's right side, as she is passing your sensible buddy who has pulled over and stopped.

You came within one second of making tonight's paper.

You see, there's "cool," and then there's "dead."

They are not synonymous terms.
 

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In which Kendra is incarcerated....

 
.....for the ACT
 

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Ardith and Jason "Live It Up"

It's barely possible I forgot to mention that oldest daughter Ardith drove oldest son Jason down to ye olde alma mater (hers) so he (Jason) could visit LeTourneau University where he will go to school in the fall and from which she (Ardith) graduated last spring and is now visiting various personages while he (Jason) sits in on a few classes and gets a first-hand look-see at the college-school.

Jason is staying on campus (floor 41?) with a couple of guys that Ardith described as "fun."

Oh boy.

Tonight they will attend the much heralded "Hootenanny," a cultural event of epic proportions in the Longview area. Tomorrow, the symphony. One is hard pressed to guess which will be better attended, received, or performed.

This information has been gleaned from sketchy plans made be-fore the trip. I have no way of knowing if ANYTHING has actually taken place, or if indeed, they are still alive.

I thought briefly, of flying down today, crashing "Hootenanny" and going onstage with my rendition of the "Moonlight Sonata." As sung by a chicken. I figured I would blend right in with the locos and perhaps catch a glimpse of the aforementioned progeny.

But then I remembered my cholesterol test this morning and decided lipids and triglycerides are just SO much more fun.....and I stayed here in Iowa.

With the fog.

And the rain.

And the cold temperatures.

So enjoy yourselves, guys. Have a SUPER time.

*sniff*
 

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File this under weird...

.....a chiropractor has the ability to go back in time to heal hurts.

Now, I checked out this guy's site, and didn't initially find a reference to that whole time travel business, but I DID happen upon this lovely testimonial from a dog:

"I am a 10 year old Bassett Hound and I have been in a lot of pain in my neck area. I would even wake up during the night and yowl from the pain. My owner called Jim Burda and described the way I was moping around and walking with my head down. Over the phone he was able to work on me. He found the area in my vertebrae that was out of place and was able to manipulate it into place. I am feeling much better and I hold my head up high again. There hasn’t been a reason to yelp now for several weeks! Thank you." DaisyMae

The above was written by Daisy Mae's owner KL.

This makes me soooooo mad ! Why can't people be more careful with their claims and theories, fer cryin' out loud?

It's just these kinds of wacko stories that end up smearing the whole concept of time travel.

Live long and prosper :-D
 

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Crunched for time....

.....we still feel compelled to post, if only to make people jealous of my latest "previously owned" acquisitions :-D

I had 3 plus hours to kill these last two mornings after dropping off the kids for testing. Too early for mall shopping, but not for mall walking. (I don't frequent those stores, anyway)

After putting in three miles (and dodging the maniacal-looking fellow with earphones and torn out sleeves--who seemed to be walking at least ten miles) I happened upon...

....a Lion's Club book sale!! Ma got the following:

(paperback)
The Wild Blue and Citizen Soldiers by Stephen Ambrose

Golden Nature Guides: Butterflies and Moth, Birds, Trees, Flowers, Weather.

The Winter of Our Discontent by Steinbeck

 
(hardback)
Milton's Complete Poems

David Copperfieled by Dickens

The Trail of Tears by Gloria Jahoda

The Complete Novels of Mark Twain, 7 (count 'em) SEVEN VOLUMES! *drools over nice binding*

The Second World War, Six Volumes by Winston Churchill *squeals*

A History of the English Speaking World, Four Volumes by Winston Churchill *double squeals followed by passing out*

Well, that's most of 'em. I'll have to tell you what I got yesterday, tomorrow.

*smirks*
 

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Fog....

 
....means just seeing what's in front of you.
 

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When forecasts don't materialize

The prediction being thunder and lightning overnight, Ma's ever-engaged gray matter went into overdrive.

I could see it now....an upset of the delicate equilibrium in the little boys' room. They sleep in triple bunks, each bed less than twin size. There's plenty of room for each individual, as long as storm-crazed fear does not drive one to force the others to "share."

The scenario:   one boy climbs up and asks to sleep with another....is refused admittance...comes over to our room....wakes ME up.....

It has the potential for one little incident to lead to another, and another...eventually cascading into a sleep disturbance of epic proportions. Not to mention that whole souteast Asian domino thing.

To forestall any possible midnight awakenings, clever Ma prepared a little campout on the floor, with sleeping bags, blankets and lots of good cheer. There's just something about the camaraderie of young boys on a stormy night, all snuggled together against the fears of darkness. You may go out in a blaze of glory together, but at least your brother won't go first.

All that trouble, and nary a drop of rain nor even a small clunk of thunder.

Sometimes our best-laid fears go awry.
 

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"Raise your right hand...

.....and take the Homeschooler's Testing Oath...."
(Student)

"I solemnly swear/affirm/have-really-good-intentions
to do my very best job on the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, by:
-filling in those annoying little circles quickly, but neatly
-not freaking out on the punctuation section because it doesn't come until the end of my English book and we haven't gotten there, yet
-ignoring my growling stomach and the girl sitting next to me who gets to take bites of bagel because Mommy says she probably has low blood sugar or something and I shouldn't worry about it
-not asking the teacher if there isn't some mistake on the Sources of Information section, since they don't have "Click Google" as an option,

SO HELP ME MA"

(Pseudo-teacher)

"I will make an attempt to not embarrass my kids at the test check-in, particularly when congregating with other families who apparently are normal. Also, I will try hard not to speak loudly or make comments such as, "Whoa! You guys look WAY smarter than these losers....."

Uhh....YEAH."

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That (windy) Sunset Thing

  

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Those crazy kids....

It was late at night. No, wait....early in the morning. 4:21 to be exact. Sensing that someone was outside our bedroom door, I stumbled in that general direction, grabbing my robe and attempting to put the correct appendages into the armholes.

*opens door*

"Mommy, my pilwo's wet."

*sigh*

If Trevor's pillow was indeed wet, it could well mean a leakage/flood of monumental proportions. But, his pull-up felt quite dry and I began to wonder if a rare phenomenon had occurred--what we in the mothering business refer to as "The Gap Theory."

Upon checking his bedding I found nothing of any damp consequence, so we proceeded down the stairway, Trevor sniffling all the way.

"Do you have a runny nose?"

"Yaaaasssss."

*Comes the dawn* Wet pillow...wet nose....looks like another case of church-induced sniffles. But at least he was dry where it "counts." :-)
_______________________

Not much sleep before getting up at 5:41. It is the first of two test days, requiring an early wake-up and 50 minute drive with three kids.

After only making four wrong turns, we arrive with two minutes to spare, laughing and joking on the way in from the parking lot.

"Mommy, you're not going to act weird...."

*is shocked*

"Me? Don't worry. I can act perfectly normal."

*more cutting up*

"Mom-my...!"

"OK, OK."

*sigh*

Growing up is hard.
 

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Testing Day Sunrise

 
Three of the kids are getting ready to go into the big city for their yearly testing, though it is hard to concentrate with an ever increasingly spectacular sun on the rise.

But Ma had to stop running outside to snap photos, or we'd never blog and go.

"Blog and Go"...doesn't that sound like a good name for a convenience store?
 

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Set your alarms, everyone

Having access to email once again, I spied this info from DW in Florida....

An unusual one time event is occurring soon:

On Wednesday of this week, at two minutes and three seconds after one o'clock in the morning, the time and date will be...

01:02:03 04/05/06.

This will never happen again.

(thanks, Dave :-)
 

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The Jim-Bob Report: Internet-line

“Good evening. This is Jim McDonald coming to you with breaking news as we go to air….The Hoyts have returned to the Internet…..let there be no mistake…..The Hoyts have returned to the Internet! We now go live to our man in Des Moines, Bob MacCackle. Bob? Bring us up to date, if you will….”

“Well Jim, some time on the evening of April 2nd, a small area northeast of Des Moines suffered a sudden and traumatic discontinuation of wireless internet service. An untimely lightning strike to the provider’s antenna is thought to be the cause.”

“I’d be curious to hear of a timely bolt of lightning, Bob…..but tell us, how are the locals handling this interruption to their technological lives?”

“It’s been a terrible shock to most folks here, Jim. This area is filled with simple people, immersed in the everyday duties of raising their families, checking their email and bidding online for dirt-cheap electronics. We did manage to get a short interview with Ma Hoyt, which we can show you now….”

*cut to video clip*

“So, Ma, what were your initial thoughts when the dreaded “Server not found” message popped up?”

“Well, Bob, it was pretty scary. My gut response was, “Could this be the Rapture?” But then I saw all those good-hearted folks on “Extreme Home Makeover,” so I knew that wasn’t happnin.’ After the first hectic minutes had passed, we came to our senses and did a quick check of the necessities…..milk, eggs, chocolate….were the kids all accounted for?….that sort of thing. I think we’ll be OK though, as long as it doesn’t last too long. You know, these kinds of emergencies are a good reminder of the importance of old traditions……*sigh*…..I actually read to the children last night.”

“And that’s what it’s like, Jim. Hard times bringing families together…….*sniff*…..man, it’s just so beau-tiful………..*blows nose*…..”

“Alright Bob, you old softie, you. So then, having heard about the emotional impact, what are the economic ramifications of a situation like this?”

“Immediate and deep, Jim. EBay is predicting a net loss of 2%, per day, from this geographical area alone. The company may have to lay off personnel. But it is thought that this can be offset by the temporary hiring of additional workers at the local chocolate factories. The stress of the current situation has completely overwhelmed the dark chocolate aisle of Wal-Marts within a hundred mile radius. It’s like ripples in a pool, Jim.”

“Say Bob, don’t you mean “like ripples in a pond?” I think that’s the network approved simile…..”

“Jim! Nobody tells me how to parse a phrase…..NOBODY. I’m my own man, Jim. The networks don’t own my soul!.....*pause*…..unless, of course, CBS wants to dump Katie for me…..then I’m good to go….I can even do my own hair….”

“Only be-cause Bob, you don’t have any hair…. *adjusts toupee and turns back to audience*…..and that’s our report for this evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tune in next time, when we explore that lingering question: Perkiness verses Favorite Uncle—the Couric/Schieffer debate.

Until then, this is cheerful Jim McDonald wishing you a heartfelt…..good-night.”
 

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Caught in the contrails

  

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Ma Wins a Contest!

Yes, it is true.

Having entered Elizabeth Currier's "What is it?" contest, I made the correct guess, first, despite having troubles posting my comment on her photo blog.

Instead, I had to submit my deduction on her xanga blog. (scroll down to comments)

Then, just today, I received the good news by email...

Congrats, you won the "what is it?" contest! It's some sort of accordian...I'm
pretty sure that it's a concertina though. Thanks for guessing, I'll get your
postcard out pretty soon. (Wow, a postcard from Iowa...don't you just
feel...*special*?
;P)
~liz

When you get to be my age, there are no small victories :-)
 

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Additional Commentary from Nolan

 
(click on photo to enlarge) 

Things are not always what they seem....

Upon casual inquiry of the aspiring cartoonist, it was discovered that the planned thought in the head of the first figure, top-left, had been, "bullfight."

*extreme sigh of relief*

As often happens with Nolan, he drew in the message balloon first, and then endeavored to fit words inside its perimeters. He started with "bull," then seeing available spatial options decreasing, stuck in "fight" directly above. At least this is what I have surmised.

Not that the pithy admonition isn't timely, it's just reassuring to know he's not that savvy.

As we scan to the right, our gaze falls upon another happy youngster, thinking of a happily clad child. It may well be significant, that the figure in this balloon is the only one on the page to have feet. Its meaning is yet to be revealed, but feet are always significant things.

Continuing clockwise we see a truck in motion, o'er top someone claiming to be "JOhN." Coincidentally enough, Nolan's recent school time included the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth, and the birth of their baby, whom I understand had a more conventional arrangement of upper/lower case letters.

In the lower left corner, there is evidence of some disquietude concerning a recent meal. Last night's supper, to be exact. (rice and vegetables) It obviously made a less than favorable impression. We can only hope it has not scarred his psyche, altered his career path or damaged his élan vital.

The expression on "mad Nolan" shows the influence of Calvin and Hobbes on the young artist. "Mad Nolan" is one of the reasons that Bill Watterson's art genre is on sabbatical atop some lonely shelf.

But if we take a step back and look at the WHOLE picture, we see four happy faces, contrasting with only one that is unhappy. This should certainly be taken as a positive sign--at least, his mother thinks so. (We are unable to determine whether the truck driver is smiling or not, probably due to excessive speed....)

Children's pictures are somewhat akin to dreams--they are interesting and often filled with random thoughts and experiences from the past day or two. But probably, not too much should be made of them, analytically speaking.

Unless, of course, he becomes rich and famous....
 

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Remembering last summer

  

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