Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Nothing more. By the racket though you'd think my child was daily thrown into the Pit of Despair and strapped to THE MACHINE. When Abby sleeps, she crawls down under all of her covers and then apparently nasty little elves tease her hair into a frenzy. I defy anyone to de-tangle her without inflicting pain.
Sadly though, as I'm reminded on a daily basis, it's not true. Once Abby spent the night with some friends and claims that the morning combing session was just divine. Pain free. Relaxing even. "If only Mrs. So and So could do it every morning...." Yes indeed, if only.
For now, I'm just thankful we live on 5 acres. No one to hear you scream, Blondie. No one at all.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
my Great Uncle Frank who during World War II flew night missions in a PB4Y-1 Liberator. And there was their younger brother,
my Uncle Grant, the highly decorated Hellcat pilot who earned numerous World War II air medals and citations, one presented personally from Admiral Nimitz.
And there's my Dad, also a former Pan Am pilot, who soloed in his family's plane on his 16th birthday (and I'm nervous about Driver's Ed!). His four siblings (three sisters and a brother) also all soloed in their teens. And then there's my Dad's brother, my Uncle Earl, also a former commercial airline pilot, and my brother, who served as a helicopter pilot in Iraq.
So, as you can see, Abby and I weren't just your average Joe Blow museum attendees. In this photo I'm telling Abby that I'll do the flying, and that she (with the somewhat diluted gene pool) will be my gunner. She's telling me that she doesn't want to do anything crazy.
You GOT him!! YOU GOT HIM! AHHHH!! Pull up! Pull up!
Our ride ended, with one less enemy plane trolling the skies. Abby and I stepped gratefully back onto stable ground, puffed up our chests, and walked a little prouder the rest of the day.
No, you can't teach this stuff. It's all in the genes.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
When I bought this lovely chart, the only planning I expected it to do was Family Home Evening planning--that night once a week where we get together, have a gospel-based lesson, play a game, and eat something unhealthy. No other type of planning was intended. Really. But have you noticed what has been glaringly obvious to each of my children?
An empty PEG! A missing tag! For goodness sake, who will give closing prayer? Our Family Home Evenings may never end! It's caused a bit of a panic.
Moving on. We decoupaged! I actually couldn't even think of the word. I went into the craft store and said, "You know how the Victorians used to cut out roses and stuff and kind of shellac it all to a dresser or something?....." I got a blank stare from the first person I talked to. She handed me off to someone who directed me to a whole decoupage section. Who knew?
Along with the glue (because really that's all it is), I bought a piece of scrapbook paper full of fun designs, some letter stickers, and different colored ribbons. We printed out pictures, cut out stars and flowers and decoupaged away.
Job well done. Now about that closing prayer......What to do? What to do?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
When he finally finished school and we bought our first house, I purchased him some tools. He purchased more. And more. And more. Our garage filled. But it was worth it. It was so worth it. I'll apologize now for the abundance of pictures. I started going around the house with the camera, snapping shots of things Lyle's done, and well, there's A LOT! Even more than I'd remembered.
The room had a coved ceiling and Lyle thought for a few days how he'd do the pine trim. I completely stay out of those decisions. I know he'll figure it out, and he always does.