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Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Music on the Mountain
In the middle of July we spent a day on the mountain listening to music. Ryan wasn't able to come but Leslie and the kids came up and Abby brought her boyfriend, Jorge. Dean and I went up early with a cooler of food and drinks and staked out our spot on the ground. Once again we were in the minority since we don't have a cell phone and we don't own a fancy lawn chair with a cup holder but we still managed to have a great day.
And thanks to Jorge here's a clip of some music and dancing.
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And thanks to Jorge here's a clip of some music and dancing.
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Thursday, August 7, 2008
Who said you need a backseat?
It only took about 45 minutes of head-scratching, Googling (you'd be surprised how many people can't get their trunk open for one reason or another), manual-reading, and finally, seat removal, before we gained access to the trunk and retrieved the groceries. The trunk is now bungied down and the seats are stored in the garage until Dean finds the time to fix the trunk latch mechanism. It seems now it won't latch---with or without sand. It's just one more of life's small challenges.
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Monday, August 4, 2008
Do not attempt this at home (or in your own car)
I am trying to get photos ready for my next post but I had take a break from that because as I type Dean is outside trying to unstick the trunk. Here's the deal. He's been using our little Toyota Corolla to haul buckets full of sand and small pebbles that he's been using as a base in the side and front yard rocked area. Seems at some point a bucket (or maybe more as far as I know) tipped over and spilled said bits of pebbles and sand in the trunk. These small particles have become lodged in all the tiny spaces inside the trunk and on occasion get caught in the lock mechanism so when he tries to unlock the trunk the tiny bits of sand and pebbles prevent it from opening.
We just returned from the grocery store a bit ago and when he tried to unlock the trunk to bring in our items (half of which require refrigeration not to mention the two bags of ice) the trunk would not unlock. Apparently it's the third time this has happened. I stood around for a while as he pushed the car up and down, beat on the trunk to try and dislodge the pebbles and sand, got a crowbar out and tried to pry the lock open as he turned the key, then sighed and said, "I keep cleaning it out and they keep getting caught. I thought I had them all". I finally left hoping the sound of the front door opening and grocery bags being hauled in would follow shortly. So far...approximately 20 minutes later...I've only heard the banging on the car. I went out once to see how it was going and amazingly he was still smiling (sort of) and his only comment was, "I wish I knew how I got it unlocked before."
Honestly, I just feel like laughing. It's just so stupid it's funny. Wait...I hear footsteps....do I hear grocery bags? ... No..... It's just too, too funny. Poor guy. Maybe the melting ice will cause the pebbles and sand to relocate and the lock will open. I guess I'll get brave and see if I can help by offering well thought out, creative suggestions. :-) I didn't want to post photos anyway....◦
We just returned from the grocery store a bit ago and when he tried to unlock the trunk to bring in our items (half of which require refrigeration not to mention the two bags of ice) the trunk would not unlock. Apparently it's the third time this has happened. I stood around for a while as he pushed the car up and down, beat on the trunk to try and dislodge the pebbles and sand, got a crowbar out and tried to pry the lock open as he turned the key, then sighed and said, "I keep cleaning it out and they keep getting caught. I thought I had them all". I finally left hoping the sound of the front door opening and grocery bags being hauled in would follow shortly. So far...approximately 20 minutes later...I've only heard the banging on the car. I went out once to see how it was going and amazingly he was still smiling (sort of) and his only comment was, "I wish I knew how I got it unlocked before."
Honestly, I just feel like laughing. It's just so stupid it's funny. Wait...I hear footsteps....do I hear grocery bags? ... No..... It's just too, too funny. Poor guy. Maybe the melting ice will cause the pebbles and sand to relocate and the lock will open. I guess I'll get brave and see if I can help by offering well thought out, creative suggestions. :-) I didn't want to post photos anyway....◦
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Cow Poop
We had our first grandparent excursion in Casper when we took Emerson and Myra to the county fair. We arrived at their house shortly after 5:00 p.m. to find them dressed in blue jeans, and cowboy boots and rarin' to go. All they were missing were the cowboy hats. Dean and I didn't quite look the part in our tennis shoes but we were wearing blue jeans.
Once we arrived Dean pointed out to the girls that he smelled cow poop. Myra completely agreed with him and chanted all the way in as we bought tickets and found our way into the center of the fairgrounds "I smell cow poop", "I smell cow poop", "I smell cow poop."
Our first act as responsible grandparents was to buy cotton candy. Emerson managed to swallow large handfuls without any problem. Myra was able to plaster it to her nose and chin but had trouble getting it in her mouth. She walked around like a fish with her round mouth opening and closing and blue cotton candy hanging off her nose and chin.
The first mistake we made as out-of-practice parents and "new" grandparents was stopping at the carnival first. I foolishly thought we'd let the girls have a ride on the merry-go-round and then hit the barns. What I quickly learned was if you stop at the carnival first, nothing else is as exciting the rest of the night. Myra revised her chant from "I smell cow poop" to "I wanna ride the horse", "I wanna ride the horse"... We somehow managed to pry them from the rides and explored the animal barns. Dean and Emerson took their time as they slowly moved from pen to pen. They seemed to have intent conversations about each different animal. I'm can only guess that they must have been discussing the genetic differences between a black cow and a brown and white cow or the reason the daddy peacock is prettier than the mommy. Myra and I, on the other hand, flitted from pen to pen with the longest stop approximately 3 seconds. At one point I suggested to Myra she might want to watch carefully so she didn't step in cow poop. Consequently the chant changed to "I see cow poop", "I see cow poop", I see cow poop".
We made a quick tour through the exhibit hall, touched creepy lizard-like reptiles, played for a while in the science booth and then made our way to the rodeo. Dean bought us Indian Tacos, sodas, and warm, gooey cinnamon bread. We made a picnic on the floor of the stadium and waited for the rodeo to start. As we were eating, a guy dressed like a cowboy, walking on the tallest stilts I've ever seen, wandered through trying to get kids to walk between those really tall legs. Once the rodeo started he disappeared and we didn't see him again. It wasn't long before chant number four began which continued all the way through the rodeo and on the ride home, "where's the big guy?", "where's the big guy?", "where's the big guy?" Emerson and I finally told Myra the really big guy's really big mom told him he had to go home. Sadly, that wasn't satisfying and only resulted in "why?".
Rodeos aren't all that exciting for little girls but we made it through to the end with the help of ice cream and a break in the middle to go ride the merry-go-round, the boats and the cars. At about 9:45 p.m. we deposited them safely at home, dirty, sticky, tired, and as Leslie pointed out to me "you all stink like cow poop."◦
Once we arrived Dean pointed out to the girls that he smelled cow poop. Myra completely agreed with him and chanted all the way in as we bought tickets and found our way into the center of the fairgrounds "I smell cow poop", "I smell cow poop", "I smell cow poop."
Our first act as responsible grandparents was to buy cotton candy. Emerson managed to swallow large handfuls without any problem. Myra was able to plaster it to her nose and chin but had trouble getting it in her mouth. She walked around like a fish with her round mouth opening and closing and blue cotton candy hanging off her nose and chin.
The first mistake we made as out-of-practice parents and "new" grandparents was stopping at the carnival first. I foolishly thought we'd let the girls have a ride on the merry-go-round and then hit the barns. What I quickly learned was if you stop at the carnival first, nothing else is as exciting the rest of the night. Myra revised her chant from "I smell cow poop" to "I wanna ride the horse", "I wanna ride the horse"... We somehow managed to pry them from the rides and explored the animal barns. Dean and Emerson took their time as they slowly moved from pen to pen. They seemed to have intent conversations about each different animal. I'm can only guess that they must have been discussing the genetic differences between a black cow and a brown and white cow or the reason the daddy peacock is prettier than the mommy. Myra and I, on the other hand, flitted from pen to pen with the longest stop approximately 3 seconds. At one point I suggested to Myra she might want to watch carefully so she didn't step in cow poop. Consequently the chant changed to "I see cow poop", "I see cow poop", I see cow poop".
We made a quick tour through the exhibit hall, touched creepy lizard-like reptiles, played for a while in the science booth and then made our way to the rodeo. Dean bought us Indian Tacos, sodas, and warm, gooey cinnamon bread. We made a picnic on the floor of the stadium and waited for the rodeo to start. As we were eating, a guy dressed like a cowboy, walking on the tallest stilts I've ever seen, wandered through trying to get kids to walk between those really tall legs. Once the rodeo started he disappeared and we didn't see him again. It wasn't long before chant number four began which continued all the way through the rodeo and on the ride home, "where's the big guy?", "where's the big guy?", "where's the big guy?" Emerson and I finally told Myra the really big guy's really big mom told him he had to go home. Sadly, that wasn't satisfying and only resulted in "why?".
Rodeos aren't all that exciting for little girls but we made it through to the end with the help of ice cream and a break in the middle to go ride the merry-go-round, the boats and the cars. At about 9:45 p.m. we deposited them safely at home, dirty, sticky, tired, and as Leslie pointed out to me "you all stink like cow poop."◦
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