I enjoy waking up in the mornings this time of year. For some strange reason I like looking out the window at the fog. Sometimes it's so thick I can't see the barn at the other end of the garden. I don't know why that is special to me but it is.
AN UPDATE ON AUNT MAR. She came through her test just fine and even rescued the little souvenir after it passed. The doctor has not called to give her the results of the pictures taken.
GRANDPARENTS DAY. East Robertson celebrates this in style. It is such a success that parking is a problem. The cafeteria really puts on a good meal. Pauline, Mom and Aunt Mar all went to eat lunch with Jenna on Thursday. They also got to see her room, classmates and teacher.
SAID WITH 100% ENTHUSIASM. Part of our going to bed routine includes having the kids pick up the toys. I usually have Ben clean up Nate's room because the toys are larger and the job is quicker for him. If I put him and Jenna in the same room to work together he'll goof off and it makes Jenna mad (and I don't blame her). Part of the clean up job includes going and getting toys that belong to Nate's room wherever they may be. Ben likes this a lot because he can ride Scoop to pick up and deliver the toys where they go. (Scoop is the back hoe from the Bob the Builder show. Our Scoop is a plastic riding toy. The back hoe shovel was not designed into the toy but it does have the front end loader bucket. Ben uses this to haul many things.)
The other night Ben wheeled by where I was. Seeing me he stopped to say, "Dad, Nate's room not clean yet...but I on the job!"
I CAN SEE BEHIND ME NOW. I've been down to one rearview mirror on the truck for a long time now. A rock from the weedeater got the mirror on the driver's door and the mirror on the passenger's door just got tired and fell off. I replaced those this week.
I got the driver's side mirror on Thursday (the other was out of stock but came in Friday). When I purchased the thing I asked if there were instructions inside the box to tell me how to take the door apart. In spite of what I was told at the store auto parts do not come with instructions. When I got home I commenced to taking the door apart. An hour later Vicki called me in for supper. I had made no measurable progress. She asked how I liked my new mirror. I looked at her and said, "I think I need to call the authorities and have them take all my tools away."
I finally got my mirrors on but let me tell you it is no fun trying to fish a 10 mm socket out of the bottom of your door with a straightened coat hanger.
ANOTHER LEAK, ANOTHER VOTE OF NO CONFIDENCE. It was back in July that I had to fix our leaky bathroom faucet. Well, it started leaking again and from the nature of the leak I knew the little ball that is inside those single lever faucets was worn out. So I buy another repair kit, tear the thing down, and replace the worn out parts. In doing so I discover the replacement parts are a smidgeon thicker than the worn out parts, making reassembly a challenge. It was about this time that Jenna walked in. After taking a second to survey the scene she asked, "Daddy, are you really able to do that?"
EYES IN THE DARK. Ben spent the night with Mom and Aunt Mar Friday. After breakfast the next morning they all walked down to the lower part of the yard. Aunt Mar sat on one of the logs that are there from the storms back in July while Mom and Ben went exploring. They picked up lots of acorns.
Several of the trees are hollow at the bottom and there are small holes in the trunks near the ground. Ben was so interested in looking in these holes that Mom went back to the house and got a flashlight for him. A little bit later they heard him squeal and he came running back to where Aunt Mar was sitting (with big tears rolling down his cheeks). When they asked what was wrong he said, "I saw BIG eyes in there." Mom and Aunt Mar think is was an owl. Whatever it was either left or climbed higher in the tree as no one saw eyes again.
A LITERARY DISCOVERY. I have been introduced to Hank the Cowdog. While working in the library at East Robertson the librarian asked me if I had ever heard of Hank. I had not so she loaned me a copy of The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog (first in what is now a series of 44 books written by John R. Erickson).
That night, after the kids were in bed, we turned off the TV and I read. You have to try to read these with a Texan drawl (the voice I hear in my head is that of Baxter Black: cowboy, poet and large animal veterinarian). We laughed so hard we were in tears. I think Vicki even gave herself a headache for laughing so hard.
Joe
