Goats can climb trees. I’ve heard about it, but now I’ve seen it. It makes sense, they climb mountains. Well, goats also like more than anything else, the one thing that is just out of reach. They climb and strain and struggle when right around them is all they could ever want. I guess there is a good reason baby goats are called kids.
When everyone comes home from camping trips they bring a mountain of work with them. I never knew we had so many clothes. I helped fold and fold and fold. Just when I thought we were making progress another mountain would loom up before us. The white flag at the top is not a victory flag, it is for surrender. I think unlike Everest, laundry is a mountain that no one will ever finish climbing.
It’s not dead. It is just hypnotized. I can’t believe it myself. All it takes is a chicken, the ground and a stick. Gently lay the chicken down on the ground. Draw an arch in the dirt around the head of the chicken and after a moment you can let go and the chicken will just lay there. My two oldest daughters are great hypnotists.
No animals were harmed in the creation of this stamp.
Whenever Brenda hears about a man not treating his wife well, she says that he will be a lone man in the Garden of Eden. You should know, I did not do anything to deserve being a lone man.
The older girls are at camp and Brenda took the others to Island Park. I have been home alone for the past two days. It is very quiet, except for the goats. I have been working on several projects and have be productive. But, it is very quiet. Hard to sleep quiet. So while I am not a lone man, I am alone man.
Besides, If you really want to know the truth, I just wanted to show off my scar.
Two days before Halloween and the costumes are done. The kids wanted to be parrots and Brenda sewed long strips of material onto a sweatshirt to simulate feathers. The kids loved them and wore them all around the house. They did end up looking a bit more like a piñata than a parrot, but the kids didn’t care.
We went into town to the grocery store and the children were still wearing the costumes. Brenda and my 13 year old daughter happily dressed in her costume went in to the store.
Let’s review: 2 days before Halloween, 13 year old girl, costume made with bright colored fabric cut in long strips, waiting in the check out line. That is why it confused the young hispanic boy. He stared at her in disbelief and kept saying ¿Por Qué? ¿Por Qué? ¿Por Qué?
I want to know why myself.
Why would a 13 year old girl dress up like a piñata and go to the store? ¿Por Qué?
My 12 year old likes to draw dragons. Here is her favorite, Flower. Flower is a nature dragon that breathes flowers.
After seeing the drawing, Brenda said she wishes that when she opens her mouth that flowers would come out, but that just isn’t the case.
“What if everything in the world were pink?” said my five year old. “The Flowers, and grass, and trees, and clouds. Would you like that mom?”
“No.” said Brenda.
“Oh yeah,” she said, “Then boys wouldn’t like it.”
As a boy I have vivid memories of pushing my Tonka Truck around the block. Ku chunk, Ka chunk, Ka chunk, as I ran over the cracks in the sidewalk. I could feel the vibration in my teeth the whole time hearing the grinding of metal against metal and the grit of the plastic wheels on concrete. It is such a good memory that it makes me think in order for life to really be good, some things just have to be yellow.