Ah, life on a dairy. Where a package on the porch ("What is it, Mom?!") is evidence of a new shipment of fly predators. (Yes, Virginia, there are fly predators. Not that you'd know it, based on the number of flies on the premises.) Where mail delivery means literature pertaining to such topics as manure handling. Who knew?
I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at this ad I saw on a bus in Seattle. Enlarge it and take a good gander. That's right, folks. Your local health department wants to help you make informed, healthy choices. Go ahead and partake of fast food and soft drinks! Consume junk! Just...Do it wisely. Don't supersize it. Oh.My. Word.
Last week the boys and I enjoyed an excursion to Seattle via the train. Much as I love the idea of train travel, this was our first local Amtrak experience since tickets are generally pricey. I was motivated by a discounted rate available with a via a homeschooling group. Yep, you heard me right. A homeschooling group. I, the quintessential non-joiner, went on an outing with fellow homeschoolers for the first time in nine years at this gig. I kept to myself as much as possible, though, and once we were in Seattle, people went their separate ways. Nothing against other homeschoolers. Or people in general. But the idea of group field trips gives me the willies. Whereas the idea of cozying up to his mother for a photo gives Jan the willies. "Come to Mama, Mr. Almost-Fourteen Year Old!"
Once in Seattle, we took the bus to a much-loved destination, the Museum of Flight. I never tire of this place. 
Yes, boys, your mother wants to once again take a group picture in this very spot. Just like last time we were here.
As yet further proof of my multiple personalities, I'm a recovering air show groupie. Is this thing a beauty or what?! One almost forgets that air warfare began right on the heels of the Wright brothers' successful flight.
Until sobering reminders such as this quote from a WWI British flying ace who lived to the ripe old age of 21: "Won't it be nice when all this beastly killing is over, and we can enjoy ourselves and not hurt anyone? I hate this game..."
I feel downright patriotic when I behold Air Force One. This one dates back to 1959. 
Just think. Ike, Jack Kennedy, LBJ, Nixon, Kissinger, Khruschev....They all used the toilet on this very plane.
Look at this guy. I mean, enlarge the picture and really LOOK at him. Check out that face. The sheer grit and determination. This is a kid whose mother doesn't merely stand on the sidelines cheering, "You're almost there, honey! Good job!" Nope. It's a boy on a mission. A boy who WILL pass the runner in front of him if only to get his mom ("Pour it on, Luke! Kick it and pass that kid!") to please. be. quiet.
Per, on the other hand, has mastered the art of tuning me out. Plus he was on a bike and, well, could run me down if my cat-calls were too obnoxious.
Jan was stylin' in his new Sounders jersey. 
Jan and his middle school team, "Ski to Sea Nirvana" (so named by yours truly). It took a good bit of encouragement to get these adolescent boys to get close enough together to fit within the camera frame. Initially they stood in a row, just far enough apart to make sure they wouldn't actually touch. Which is kinda odd, considering how often guys this age are compelled to punch, push, prod, and wrestle one another. Something about testosterone, one presumes.
Per and Luke et al displayed a bit more creativity in their pose. This is team "Young Boys FC".
Rec league spring soccer is history. These jerseys from the middle school team now await new owners as high school soccer looms on the horizon.
Sure, it's a kiddie pool meant for very little people. And yes the end of April is by no means swimsuit weather. But isn't it grand how easy it is to entertain children at this stage of life? Lookee here, kids! A foot bath and some goggles. Woo hoo! Go at it! It'll take a good five years before it dawns on them that when others refer to their backyard pool, they mean something a bit...more.
New uses for chicken feed bags, as demonstrated by Luke. Something there was about this moment that thoroughly amused me. Which, I suppose, makes me an easily amused mother of an easily entertained farm child.
Candlelight. Chocolate. The Resurrection.Spring.
Last year, the canoe leg of the Ski to Sea was cancelled ~ dashing Hans' hope to run the river with his brother, Adrian. This time around, conditions were ideal for Hans and our friend Albert as they paddled 18 miles downriver to the sea. With a little help from the sleek racing canoe, they placed 38th out of over 400 teams. Pretty impressive.
Kayaks coming in to the finish line. This picture is pretty similar to the one I posted from last year's race, but the scenery is worth repeating.
Ah, life on a dairy. Where a package on the porch ("What is it, Mom?!") is evidence of a new shipment of fly predators. (Yes, Virginia, there are fly predators. Not that you'd know it, based on the number of flies on the premises.) Where mail delivery means literature pertaining to such topics as manure handling. Who knew?
I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at this ad I saw on a bus in Seattle. Enlarge it and take a good gander. That's right, folks. Your local health department wants to help you make informed, healthy choices. Go ahead and partake of fast food and soft drinks! Consume junk! Just...Do it wisely. Don't supersize it. 
Last week the boys and I enjoyed an excursion to Seattle via the train. Much as I love the idea of train travel, this was our first local Amtrak experience since tickets are generally pricey. I was motivated by a discounted rate available with a via a homeschooling group. Yep, you heard me right. A homeschooling group. I, the quintessential non-joiner, went on an outing with fellow homeschoolers for the first time in nine years at this gig. I kept to myself as much as possible, though, and once we were in Seattle, people went their separate ways. Nothing against other homeschoolers. Or people in general. But the idea of group field trips gives me the willies. Whereas the idea of cozying up to his mother for a photo gives Jan the willies. "Come to Mama, Mr. Almost-Fourteen Year Old!"
Once in Seattle, we took the bus to a much-loved destination, the Museum of Flight. I never tire of this place. 
Yes, boys, your mother wants to once again take a group picture in this very spot. Just like last time we were here.
As yet further proof of my multiple personalities, I'm a recovering air show groupie. Is this thing a beauty or what?! One almost forgets that air warfare began right on the heels of the Wright brothers' successful flight.
Until sobering reminders such as this quote from a WWI British flying ace who lived to the ripe old age of 21: "Won't it be nice when all this beastly killing is over, and we can enjoy ourselves and not hurt anyone? I hate this game..."
I feel downright patriotic when I behold Air Force One. This one dates back to 1959. 
Just think. Ike, Jack Kennedy, LBJ, Nixon, Kissinger, Khruschev....They all used the toilet on this very plane.
Look at this guy. I mean, enlarge the picture and really LOOK at him. Check out that face. The sheer grit and determination. This is a kid whose mother doesn't merely stand on the sidelines cheering, "You're almost there, honey! Good job!" Nope. It's a boy on a mission. A boy who WILL pass the runner in front of him if only to get his mom ("Pour it on, Luke! Kick it and pass that kid!") to please. be. quiet.
Per, on the other hand, has mastered the art of tuning me out. Plus he was on a bike and, well, could run me down if my cat-calls were too obnoxious.
Jan was stylin' in his new Sounders jersey. 
Jan and his middle school team, "Ski to Sea Nirvana" (so named by yours truly). It took a good bit of encouragement to get these adolescent boys to get close enough together to fit within the camera frame. Initially they stood in a row, just far enough apart to make sure they wouldn't actually touch. Which is kinda odd, considering how often guys this age are compelled to punch, push, prod, and wrestle one another. Something about testosterone, one presumes.
Per and Luke et al displayed a bit more creativity in their pose. This is team "Young Boys FC".
Sure, it's a kiddie pool meant for very little people. And yes the end of April is by no means swimsuit weather. But isn't it grand how easy it is to entertain children at this stage of life? Lookee here, kids! A foot bath and some goggles. Woo hoo! Go at it! It'll take a good five years before it dawns on them that when others refer to their backyard pool, they mean something a bit...more.
New uses for chicken feed bags, as demonstrated by Luke. Something there was about this moment that thoroughly amused me. Which, I suppose, makes me an easily amused mother of an easily entertained farm child.
