Scat Packer-outers

This post is dedicated to my Dad. This picture says it all.

Disclaimer: While I am not equating scat [family friendly blog term] packer outers with varmit lovers, I will use the terms interchangeably beacuse to some, they are all a part of the same family. I am not putting down anyone that enjoys the outdoors. However, famers and ranchers typically have mutual feelings about the prairie dog...hence the above picture is good for a goad or gentle poke in the ribs.]

So the story behind the picture [this is not my car]. We were all a gettin excited for a goin to the library to see the Batman and Superman animated movie by WB. It was free and something to do in podunk. as we unloaded the brood from the rockin mini-van, my eyes were directed to the back end of this vehicle [for those who are unawares, Lubbock is a home to a protected pararie dog community...some feel they'ze ona road to extinctshun jus like them dinosawers] So I had to take a picture cause I knew it would elicit a string of colorful metaphors that will probably be heard from miles away. Go ahead dad, I'm listening. Tee hee. It ought to be better than the humming from the mountains near "Longwinded" Arizona [a subtle movie plug...any takers?]

So I will be sure to direct all these prairie dog lovers to Western Colorado, where hopefully, someone can help them understand that the priarie dog is not a dying breed. I'm sure my folks will leave the light on for you.

btw: At the aformentioned movie [Batman and Superman], I walked away as the proud owner of a 16" soft-n-cuddly- Batman doll...without removable clothes [thankgoodness]. I answered the Batman trivia question correctly. I was a hero in the eyes of my kids that day. It was a good day.

What is Wrong with this Picture?

It is like a plague. nekid Barbies everywhere. They just seem to sprout wherever you don't want them. They are like a weed. I doubt you could find a room in our house without a nekid Barbie. It is because of events such as these that turns perfectly good PG movies into trashy PG-13 movies, No? Why the kids prefer to play with them a-natural, I will never know [Get your minds out of the gutter]. I was looking through some other pictures we've taken this year and there is more than just this one that inconspicuously has a nekid Barbie in it.

For Any Calvin and Hobbes fans, there is a classic that has Calvin's dad trying to take pictures of Calvin and with every shot, Calvin is making some sort of face or refusing to hold still. In another caption, the two parents are discussing how they can possibly send any pictures to other members of their family. Calvin's mom makes the statement to the effect, "Well that is Calvin" [meaning, anything else would be a false portrayal].

So my question is, are we doomed to forever be the family of the nekid Barbies? Can we ever truthfully show humanity anything else that accurately reflects who we really are?

Show me a Sign?

Early this morning I arose before Mr. Sun pulled back his covers and yawned. I had heard rumors that three of the planets were congregating and meeting on the eastern horizon for some pre- breakfast Einstein Bagels and chocolate milk.

I don’t know what kinda click these three were trying to form or why the other planets were excluded. Let’s see if a bit of deductive reasoning can help us out here.

The three planets are Mercury, Mars and Jupiter. What brings them together?

First of all, anyone is fool to not include Jupiter…Hello….he’s like the biggest, baddest of the bunch and could swallow any of the others whole. Besides, who can compete with such an awe-some beauty spot?

That brings us to Mars…the warrior. He’s small, but feisty like a Tasmanian devil. Could serve as an enforcer to Jupiter’s policies. Besides, they’re practically neighbors.

Mercury is the biggest mystery. Size wise, he’s hardly a blip on the radar. But he’s quick and sneaky. Reconnaissance. Jupiter needs an informer.

So now we have a reason or two as to why these three were huddled, calling the next play. So why weren’t the rest a part of the action?

Venus-There is beauty and Jupiter could use a woman at his side, but Venus is kinda like that black widow…seductive and treacherous…. Like a Venus Fly Trap. They were smart to leave her out.

Earth- who wants to deal with her and all her issues? Wars, famine, politics, Britney Spears….?
If ever there was a “one of these kids is not like the other, one of these kids is doing his own thing….”

Saturn- Sources tell, that Saturn and Jupiter used to be the bestest buds until it was discovered that Jupiter had rings too and the novelty associated with Saturn wore off. Since then, Saturn has been feeling a bit snubbed and rightly so, but who am I to tell Jupiter that Saturn is still a cool planet.

Uranus- The guy is always sleeping, maybe if he ever woke up to check his email, he might see the invitation to the party.

Neptune- With his “great dark spot” trying to be like Jupiter, sorta has an Incredi-boy to Mr. Incredible relationship. I’m sure Jupiter signed every piece of scrap paper that was shoved his way. Who cares if Neptune is his number one fan. Word to the Jupiter, watch your back for a “Syndrome”.

Pluto- Pluto was basically kicked out of the planet club. Who wants to be associated with a nobody?…even though I still love you Pluto. You’ll always be a planet in my heart.

Anyway, so there I was in the cold pre-dawn morning, looking at these three and wondering to myself, where does this leave me? Is it a sign? Are good things headed my way or, should I take cover and build my bomb bunker?

btw, It wasn't as cool as I thought it was going to be, so if you missed out, you really did not miss out.

Pick your Poison or Chose Your Own Blogging Adventure

The Importance of Wearing a Helmet?

Last night My wiffy and I were on a date and as part of our date we found
ourselves browsing the aisles of Toys-R-Us, looking for prospective presents for
our chillins.  Lo and behold we saw a picture of a kid bouncing on a
pogo-stick, wearing a helmet. Can anyone cite for me an instance of a child
injuring their head while playing on a pogo-stick? Should they wear helmets
while playing jump rope and hop scotch as well? For extra precaution, let's put
them on their heads while they play tag and hide-n-seek, taking a bath and
eating at the table [that chair is kind of a high place to fall from].

Or if you do not want to discuss safety and helmets...

Lubbock Sky

YeeeeeeHaaaaaaahhhh!!!! and WeeeeeeeDoggiiieeeeee!!!!

It snowed last night. That is a major event in these here parts. It wasn’t a ton of snow, but it was a couple of inches of pure powder, on a bed of hail and frozen rain. The wind has created some cool snow drifts…almost had six inches piled up against my front door. I actually had to use our snow shovel that we brought with us from Utah. Because there are not any snow plows for 300 miles, the roads were extremely treacherous this morning. What is normally a 15 minute commute turned out to be a 40 minute commute. Fortunately, most of my students waited around for me. Because temperatures are actually supposed to stay cold, the snow should be around for a couple of days versus a couple of hours. It’s too bad that it is not wet enough to make a snowman.

Time Speeds Up

Let us rewind to just a couple of days ago. The sun was bright, temperatures were warming up to the mid 60's and the young men were all color coordinated in red, ready to serve the Elders Quorum their first loss in the annual Turkey Bowl. Now these boys had been fixin for some time to dethrone those endowed with more strength and wisdom. They had even been meetin and practicing all week for the big game...even had their own play book.

The Mighty Goliaths were up 28-0 at the half and the young David's were scratching their heads and whimpering.

Now enters the whole "time" factor of the story. A 10 minute half time is nowhere near enough time for the older Goliaths to recuperate. We bravely suited up in our armor again, determined to finally put David and Co. to rest [the refs/High Priests had declared that any 35 point lead would end the game]. Let me add quickly that the youngins had suffered two minor injuries whereas we had encountered none. Our egos were in good shape.

Somehow, the strapping young lads started pulling a rabbit out of the hat in the form of two missionaries that were playing for them [to help even out the teams] These two Elders must have been quickened by the spirit cause there was no way to cover them down field. The score quickly became less and less lopsided. We continued to score but not at the same speed/rate as the young men and their newfound polished shafts, hidden in the quiver of the Lord.

All we had to do was hold out till 11:30. 11:15, the youngsters tied the game at 35. In a last ditched effort, we made our final drive and our quarterback threw for the 3rd interception of the game. With 5 minutes left on the clock, the YM could smell blood in the water. With humble pie ready to serve, both sides reluctantly swallowed at least one bite, four downs later as the tie stood its ground.

To end this tale, I must say that there is something about getting older that makes the ground seem further away and not nearly as soft as I recall from my younger days. Every fiber of my being aches like I had spent the day at the gym being trained by Gov. Arnold himself. Please do not sign me up for the hoeing contest with any prophets from this dispensation.

 

 

Dinner with a Friend

It took a few days for the media to quite down a bit after the most recent Bobby Knight incident. As such, I got my good pal Bobby to really open up last night as we shared some smoked briquette at his place. Can I just tell you, my kids totally adore “uncle Bobby”. Maybe it has something to do with the indoor pool, game room and the bottomless freezer of ice-cream. Who ever said, can’t buy me love? But I digress.

Our conversation went something like this:

LH: Bobby, you gotta stop finding ways to attract the media attention like stink on a monkey [unless it’s good news, like the time you donated your first two years salary to the Athletic program at Tech].

BK: I know. But it’s not like I intend for these things to happen. I’m very passionate about the game and get caught up in the moment. It’s like being moved upon by the spirit.

LH: Throwing chairs is kinda extreme.

BK: That was ages ago and my hands were sweaty.

LH: I seem to recall a head-but incident with one of your players a few years ago as well.

BK: Again, that was over and wrongly publicized. I was angry but not violent. I was walking over to have a few words with him when my contact fell out and for that brief second, I was blinded and stumbled, which caused our heads to collide.

LH: Why didn’t you explain that in the post game interview?

BK: Don’t you think I would have tried if I thought they would believe me? They were still riled up over the chair incident. Can’t these folks just let things go? Is anyone still complaining about Clinton and Monica?

LH: So, what really happened the other night? Some say you slapped him. To me it looked like a
old man with lightning fast reflexes getting a young punk to look him in the eye…

BK: You calling me old?

LH: Simmer down there friend. No, I don’t think you look old. You are older than I am though. Anyway, that’s what it looked like to me.

BK: You saw right. I hate talking to the top of someone’s head. He was feeling down on himself for the back to back fouls and I was hoping to instill the “eye of the tiger” in him. You really can’t do that unless you’re looking eye to eye.

So there you have it. Even among close friends, his story remains the same. The kid was not upset by BK’s actions; the parents weren’t upset; so why was everyone else upset? Cause it was Bobby Knight.

btw, thanks Bobby for dinner. It was superb as usual. Next week it will be at my house.

They're Baaaaaack!

Run for the hills folks! Wait a cotton pickin minute...we don’t have any hills. Well, run for it anyway. We are about to be overrun again.

Yes folks, it’s that time of year again. The Canadian geese are descending upon us again in droves. Just last week I had taken my five yr. old over to a neighbors house (about 10 blocks away) and on Golden Pond, there were only about a dozen or so of these feathery critters...the long term, permanent resident sort of bird. Not three hours later when I went to pick him up, there musta been at least 500 of the “wild” ferocious, untamed, eat all your bread and toddler too Canuks.

An Enigma

Riddle me this?

 

It’s legally of age.

Rarely present.

Completes no work.

Ignores sound advice.

?
? ?
? ?
? ? ?

Thanks for the Giving

Pappy Yokum –Thanks for the
Halloween tie collection…such a good son.

Complete Lo Down -Thanks for year
supply of highlighters and other school supplies

Reformed Pottymouth?- Thanks for
the rock climbing gear. If I ever find any rocks in Lubbock to climb, I’ll call
you.

Jolly Porter – Thanks for the
season passes. My wife thanks you too.

Oh, Judy! – Topher said it was
your idea, so thank you.

the Real executive – Thanks for
the Back to the Future box set.

Everyday I Write the Book – Thanks
for the year supply of potato pearls. I love those.

Ignore the Crazy- You are crazy to
give up your swan table for me, but thank you just the same.

Compulsive Tendencies- Thank you!
Finnish chocolate! The hard part is sharing with my kids.

~j –Any gift for my wiffy is a
gift for me. You’re so sweet.

C-Jane Blog – Thank you. The king
size sleeping bag will guarantee a cozy night or two, for two when we’re in the
wild or feeling wild.

I'm sew funny taking pictures –
Love the Harley jacket. Just gotta get me the bike to go with it. Thanks.

roi, rey, rei –Just one
question…How’d you know my size? Thanks, it’s just perfect for my laptop.

Dear Dairy...I mean Diary- Thanks.
The fly rod is fabulous…you weren’t in Jackson Hole recently were you?

Hey Jude! - An autographed
football by the entire SUU football team…a collectors item for sure

Curiously Short on Time -Gracias!
The new suit looks sharp, if I do say so myself.

Hammer Time – Getting Fed-ex to
foot the bill for all these deliveries…four stars baby!

Party Till You Drop

Happy blog birthday to me! Here's to another year. It was nearly a year ago that we went to this same (different design) corn maze.

I'd like to take a moment to thank my blogger father, The Jolly Porter For bringing me into the blogging world. I'd thank my blogging mother...if only I knew who she was. Can you tell me daddy?

In a fine order of a tradition and an attempt to not fall to far from my blogging tree (surely inherited from one of my blogging parents), I am willing to accept any and all gifts of a monetary value of $50 or more. Please do not send anything cheap or easily broken. I am willing to negotiate for family heirlooms and collector items. Do not send anything C.O.D. For those who may anticipate spending all their cold hard cash, therefore inhibiting their ability to pay for postage of my eagerly anticipated gift, can send money orders. Because Western Union is an international company, I will not accept excuses from bloggers in distant lands.

Yours Truly,

Lyle

Parenting 101

Readers,

How do you go about keeping a straight face when a child is having a fit and starts spouting off, (not making any sense,) and you know if you crack a smile or laugh, the child will get even further upset and be convinced that mom and dad do not love him/her?

Signed,

Parent waiting for child to cool down and listen to reason

Degrees of Intolerance

Some interesting facts about Utah/Mormons that I heard last week while visiting a friend in another office in the English Building.

1. Utah is full of Mormons (this was said as an act of discouraging my friend from ever wanting to move to Utah)
2. Can’t buy beer in Utah (cause everyone who isn’t Mormon, drinks)
3. Can’t buy coffee in Utah (cause everyone who isn’t Mormon, drinks coffee)
4. Some Mormons own coffee makers (only Mormons are expected to live according to the teachings of their faith)
5. Mormon men have so many wives so they can choose which one they want to spend eternity with (Mormon men are selfish and horney) There is no difference between a Mormon and any “fundamentalist” Mormon.
6. Mormon women can only be saved through their husbands (who call them up from the grave) (apparently Mormon women are to be 100% submissive in all things, including death and resurrection, when they use the bathroom, what they eat...so y’all better sit down and zip it and wait your turn)
7. Mormons are buying up all the land around Warsaw, Illinois, which is upsetting the “local” folks (No one is forcing anyone to sell the land. How much of this land is being re-purchased after it was stolen from early Mormons in Illinois?)

With the exception of the last comment, I was able to correct and clarify these gems of information. This individual that was spouting off, was unaware that I was Mormon, and from Utah.

Come to find out, this fella that was a spoutin off, did all his younger days studying on religion, so now he’z the x-pert. He’z a sertifide, bonofide no-it-all.

An Ode to David Sanborn

The Dream, from your A Change of Heart album, has been my favorite from the first time I heard in when I was working as a custodian at Dixon Middle School during the summer of 1987. My friend (Tim Rand) who also worked there, was a Jazz musician who loved to play the saxophone, and always aspired to be like you and hit those amazingly hard to hit high notes. Readers….do whatever it takes to listen to this song. Start surfing the net…Launch Cast, I-Tunes, Napster…whatever. Listen to it. Spend $.99 to own it, cherish it, relish in it, use it to serenade your lover. I don’t care if you don’t like Jazz. You will not be able to resist liking this song. If you are truly abnormal and do not like this song because you were dropped one too many times as a child then I will buy you a Happy Meal at McDonalds to make you happy.

No matter how down I may be, this song has the ability to sooth my troubled soul. When I am happy, the song makes me happier. It is medicine for the heart, mind, and soul.

One of the greatest moments of my youth was listening to this song, relaxing on the overly padded carpet of Tim’s bedroom, while eating jumble berry cheesecake and washing it down with ice cold milk.

the duck that didn’t quack

The bits of bread thrown into the water bobbed once, never more than once, like a leaf floating to the ground, sank in a lulling rock-a-by motion. Bottom grime hor'dourves for the carpy cousins.

From two stones throw away, a single mallard, of the green headed male specimen paddled closer to investigate. His actions and diversion did not go unnoticed. Geese, two swans, six white ducks and a smaller black bird with a red beak immediately stopped playing with their jacks, yo-yo’s, and Sudoku. What was greeny up to and what is that land lubbin boy buffoon doing so close to the shore. In a mad dash, like paparazzi chasing Brad Pit and the mystery girl, they swarmed and beheld, with their beady black eyes and one red beak, a gallon ice-cream container full of dehydrated fermented morsels being scattered like chicken feed . It is their manna from heaven. The solitary mallard never saw what hit him, the purse, a brick, the old crane’s walker, the frenzy had begun and he was in the way.

That’s what might have happened had I not come to work today.

That is So Cool!

My two oldest are a part of a co-op home schooling program where once a week, they find themselves learning cool stuff in someone else’s home. They recently have been studying botany and boy am I jealous. Two weeks ago they learned all about cotton blossoms. First they found out that each blossom only lasts for 24 hours. They start off white and quickly make a transition to a deep red color and then fall off. How cool is that? They also got a chance to dissect a blossom and boy could they see everything...stigma, stamen, ovaries, style...and an intro to the birds and the bees.

This last week what should they bring home to my surprise? A live, baby Venus fly trap. I love Venus fly traps. My very own Little Shop of Horrors! Feed me Seymour! I haven’t seen one since 8th grade science class at Dixon Middle School....with the teacher that was convinced her room was tilted. So far, we’ve fed our little beauties two flies and an earwig. I’d have every single trap full of bugs, but it’s been raining for the past four days and all the bugs have taken cover.

Both of these activities were a big booster following the fiasco that happened right after our astronomy project three weeks ago. Our kids created their own solar system with proportional sized planets, complete with an asteroid belt. Within a week of displaying our solar system down our hall way, those crazy, out-of-their-mind astronomers, whose heads must be the size of a meteorite (with egos the size of the Pistol Star), went and declared that Pluto was no longer a planet. Come on....it’s not like discovering that the world is round and you won’t go sailing off into an abyss. We need nine planets just as bad as Saturn needs its rings. If we can have a planet that rolls like a barrel, we can have a planet whose orbit is elliptical....and every half a billion years gets to have a David and Goliath moment with Neptune as Pluto sneaks momentarily into eighth place. How cool is that?

Poor Unfortunate Souls

Once again a new semester has started and like clockwork, there are a few Poor unfortunate Souls, a.k.a. freshmen, who really struggle with the first week of college classes. My experience has been that most freshmen have very awkward moments the first year, some are just better at hiding it than others. Hey even I walked into at least one wrong classroom, only to quickly exit and move to the “right” class.

So far this week, I have one student who not only went to the wrong classroom, but ended up in the wrong building, and stayed the entire time because the teacher was talking about lots of different books.

Much to my surprise, I also have a repeat student. A very special repeat student. Last semester, Alice Wonderland (name has been changed) made it to class for the first two weeks and then dropped off the radar. About mid-term I received an email from Alice telling me that she needed to meet with me to explain her excessive absences. I reminded her of my office hours. Again she dropped off the radar…two weeks later another email shows up from Alice. I really need to meet with you to explain why “I don’t want to come to your class”. She continued saying that her schedule was not compatible with my office hours so I scheduled a special appointment with her. She didn’t show.

At this point I tried to direct her to the Director of Freshman Composition, if she wanted any hope of passing the class or taking an “I”. Again she dropped off the radar screen, until the last day of class when she emailed me and asked if there was a final for the class, in which I responded “No.” She also claimed that she had tried to get a hold of the director through email. I checked with the director and discovered that not such contact had been attempted.


I have two more classes to go...if anything happens, you'll be the first to hear about it.

Self Induced Honey-do Chores

The monotony has finally broken me. FYI, I have been out of school since May and simultaneously out of work as well. This newfound freedom has left me with way too much time on my hands. I mean, we traveled to Oklahoma, Colorado and Utah this summer, as well as burned up oodles of additional gallons of gas here locally. I’ve also spent way too much time indoors, inside the confines of my own castle. I don’t know how the rich folks (as in ancient European nobility) stayed sane by not having to work every day of their lives.

As such, and with work starting up again next week, I have taken upon myself some long overdue and new honey-do chores. I have two projects going simultaneously out in the garage. Both involve lots of sanding with power tools, which makes me wish for an air compressor to blow away all the dust. One project is the refinishing an old headboard and foot board on a bed that has been stored in the attic since our arrival. The other project requires some refinishing work on my wife’s glider-rocker that was slightly damaged during “the move”.

The hardest part about all this is the “dry time” between coats of paint, drying stain and drying urethane. I was not born with the patience for the waiting game. Not to mention that the humidity levels are very high right now cause it rained fast and furiously in the middle of the night and then sprinkled some more around mid-morning.

To Be a Prophet For a Day

From my earliest memories from Sunday school I recall being taught that prophets help guide Heavenly Father’s children upon the earth. Recent experiences have reinforced this perspective. Contrary to the local belief, "Lubbock is a breeze of a town to navigate" I proclaim in defense of the non-Lubbuckian That Lubbock is a difficult town to navigate for beginners. Having been here a year, I can see why they hold to such a belief, but having also been a newcomer or an outsider, Lubbock can be very daunting because of the many options for getting from point A to point B.

In the past month or so, I have had the honor of visitations from several different family members. Each and every one of them at some point in time became lost in trying to drive their way through and around town. Now I am not trying to equivocate myself with the noble mantle of a prophet, but my wife and I were able to help these helpless travelers find their way. We employed many different methods, ranging from verbal step by step instructions via cell phones (what a great modern convenience), written instructions, hand drawn maps and personal guides by way of driving in front of, or riding shot-gun.

I do not seek praise or compensation, because anyone else would have done just as much to help a family member reach their destination safely. I could not help but notice that in the same way I did what I could to guide my family, God also continues to guide his children by living prophets all along the way whether it be by radio, satellite, magazine, internet, etc. What a great time to be alive.

Lack of Inspiration

This does not mean that nothing has been going on. I just haven't been able to find myself in the right blogging spirit. Hang in there. This too shall pass.

We Were Almost Neighbors

Just last night My family was up in Provo as my wife had a Story Time Felts party at a friend’s house in the aforementioned villa. After the party, we was a visitin and a talkin about the movie, Joseph Smith, Prophet of the Restoration that my family had gone to see the day before… when to our surprise, the name Chris Kendrick and neighbor were used in the same sentence.

So I interjected, “You mean that the Kendricks live in this ward?”

“Yes” was the reply.

“No way!” ( I was about to give a Princess Mia ‘Shut up!’ followed by an Elaine from “Seinfeld” shove, but I restrained myself).

So I quickly explained how I came to “know” these folks via my blog and former high school bunch.

So to the mighty Kendricks…. I welcome you to the 8th Ward…. A day late, but not a dollar short…I hope.

Mad Lib: Finished Product

Foiled Bank Robbery
When Pappy Yokum and John Wayne laundered the money nabbed in a bank robbery, authorities say, they took the literal approach - sticking some of the cash in a backpack to cleanse it of red dye from a special pack that exploded during the heist.

According to criminal complaints, the men stole $5,635 at gunpoint from a bank in Queens on Tuesday.

Referring to the packs of dye banks use to foil robbers by making stolen money unusable, Pappy Yokum told the tellers, "No dye packs," the complaints say.
No such luck. Authorities say that as the men were making off with the loot, a pack exploded, spraying much of the cash with red dye. The pair dropped about $30,000 on the sidewalk outside the bank, officials said, while more was left behind in the slimy car.

Digiosaffatte, 51, and Villanueva, 37, then boogied in to a motel, where authorities say they stuck the money in mesh ventriliquits used to wash moist clothing.
"They must've washed it seven times because the bills were washed out and looked squeezy," said Sgt. Robert Young, commander of the FBI and New York Police Department's Joint Bank Robbery Task Force.

Using buklava of the area who matched the robbers' descriptions, authorities caught up with Yokum and Wayne, who were arrested on Thursday.
The men were ordered held without bail at their arraignment on Friday.

The original story can be found here:

Introducing my Mad Lib for the Blog.

I have randomly picked a story from the WWW. And now I need your help in fixing the story. I am in need of 10 words (see below) from my readers. Please share by filling in only a single “blank”, (as a comment) thus allowing others the chance to play.

When I have all ten words I will post the “New” Story.

Words needed:

1. Name
2. Name
3. Number
4. Adjective
5. Verb- past tense
6. Pl noun
7. Adjective
8. Number
9. Adjective
10. Noun

Everything is Bigger in Texas

It's true. Everything in Texas is bigger. So in honor of the the upcoming release of the latest movie version of E.B. White's book, I give you this.





Even though it is just a wolf spider and doesn't spin webs, it's still hideous.

Let the Masses Speak

In hopes of hearing more from my readers than from myself, at the sake of lost vanity, I propose the following thread of conversation:
Ya know you’re outside of Utah, when....

1.You’re a sister missionary who is sick and the doctor asks if you’re pregnant. Upon adamant denial, he still orders a blood test to verify your claims.

2.(Your part goes here....)

Fairy Lu Finds a Friend

News flash! Cats love small critters that are smaller than they are, whether it is for play, or food, or both. Surprised? I didn’t think so.

So you see, our cat discovered a little lizard this morning and brought it to our back porch [(still alive and apparent good condition) minus a short piece of tail that had been broken/chewed off]. I gently picked up the lizard, brought it inside, and placed it inside the protective care of a mason jar. I’m sure you can hear the kids now, “Oh, can we keep it?” I figured, that it would be cool for the kids to observe a lizard and told them that we would go buy one of them do-hickey containers for reptiles, (the cheap plastic kind) once they finished their chores.

Later this afternoon, we piled the brood into the mini-van and beat feet to the local PetSmart. With lizard abode in tow and a bag full of small crickets, we headed home....Our kids wanted to name our new found pet and because we were unsure as to the gender, we settled for Meninos (Portuguese for little ones)

Upon our arrival, we entered the kitchen to find 1,000,000,000,000,000 pieces of broken mason jar on the floor and a poor, almost dead lizard not quite 10 feet away from the point of impact. I quickly shooed the kids back out the door, along with one un-repentant cat as I commenced cleaning up the mess. By the time I was finished cleaning up the mess, Meninos had become acquainted with Fairy Lu the Fish. Without burial, toilet express, or parting words, I un-ceremoniously dropped Meninos into the trash and chalked up another one for ignored warnings in my head (put the lizard where the cat can’t get it).

Caprock Canyon and Steel Buffalo

Dear Readers,

I recently returned from the official Father and Sons outing for our ward. Now in West Texas, there is not an abundance of pristine campsites, therefore, Caprock Canyon State Park became the designated area (about 1 ½ hours northeast of Lubbock).

I began by gathering the camping supplies: tent, sleeping bags, Coleman stove from the attic, and goodies galore from the supermarket. Rhonda had a rendezvous earlier in the afternoon, so we got a semi-late start...about 5:00pm.

I could sing praises to MapQuest, for she led our horse to the watering hole with only one momentary hitch...on my part, as I was trying to read road signs. This was the first time ever I had to rely on MapQuest for directions to a Father and Sons.

We pulled into the state park and paid our camping fee.... “Uh, we're with a larger party” I muttered. The kind lady behind the counter asked, “Part of the church group?” “Yes’m”. She then politely pulled out a map of the area and pointed me in the direction of our reserved campground. Really close to the entrance of the campground is a lake, and I thought to myself, good thing I brought my fishing pole...now if I can just wake the boys early enough to take em with me. (BTW, I had boys # 1 & 2 with me, the youngest stayed home with mom and the daughter.)

Just beyond the lake was the buffalo. Steel buffalo. 2-D, steel plate cutouts, all posing like the real thing. (We were told that a real herd lives somewhere in the park, but they remained elusive.) About 3 miles further up the road we found our campsite. Having been a scout and having been to lots of campsites, this site left a lot to be desired. It was hot, dusty, windy, lacking shade, cactusy, and very anty. Big ants, small ants and even a roadrunner for a mascot. We found a spot barely big enough for our tent and pitched it atop the fewest ants possible. We were told that as many as 28 people were planning on showing up. When we arrived, we brought the total to nine (only one other was an adult). We fixed a dinner of chili-cheese dogs, chips and ready made punch from the store. Dinner was good, when the wind wasn’t blowing the plates away. After dinner, three more people showed up and at twelve strong we stayed. It soon became dark and we busted out the making for some s’mores. S’mores galore, enough for 28 people being consumed by 12. By this time my boys were tired and we went to bed. Also about this time, the wind increased in force.... and a thunder storm was fast approaching.............

The wind howled and jostled the tent and the temperatures stayed hot. Sleep would not come for me. As the storm increased in its fury, to where we felt more like a rag doll in the teeth of a pit-bull, both kids woke up and explained that they were scared. I then proceeded to pack one kid on my back and the other in front of me as I carted them to the van. I turned on the dome lights, put in some kid music, told them I would take down our camp as quickly as possible and locked the door. In my own frenzied fury, I took down what the wind had not, of the tent, and threw it into the back of the van. I pulled out of the campsite 2:23 am. Driving home in the dark, on unfamiliar roads, roads that had been rained upon by this storm, can be a real treat. However, the trip home went without a hitch and we pulled into the garage a bit past 4:00. Come to find out the wife and daughter had also been up late, our daughter fearing for our safety because Lubbock found itself in the path of the thunderstorm. Tired and exhausted, we climbed into bed for a few hours of shut-eye. By 11:30am the entire house hold was down for the count as the sandman made a complimentary second round.



As a bonus, I have included a Loch Nessish monster picture of the elusive roadrunner from the campout.

Seven 7's as Requested and Promised

1. 7 Things I’d like to do before I die
Find a job
Retire
Tour historic Church sites
Take my wife to Brazil
Serve a mission with my wife
Write a book
Repent

2. 7 Things I cannot do
Play an instrument
Back handsprings
Eat beets, cauliflower, or asparagus
Curl my hair
Speak, read or understand French
Algebra or beyond
Snow ski

3. 7 Things that attracted me to my spouse
Her money
Her forward flirtiness
Her kindness
Her ability to keep me on the straight and narrow
Her dancing and musical talent
Her smile
Her friends
Her modesty

4. 7 Things I say often
I love you
Oh really?
Wasn’t Me!
Thanks for choosing the Hayes’. Will this be take out or delivery?
Vêm ca menino
Speak now or forever eat your peas
Kids, your pop-tarts are ready!

5. 7 Books (series)I love
BOM
LOR trilogy
Work and the Glory
Dragonlance series
Shanara Series
Harry Potter
Crime and Punishment

6. 7 Movies I could watch over and over
LOR trilogy
The Best Two Years
Send Me no Flowers
Back to the Future
The Incredibles
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
Rocket Man

7. 7 (Actually it’s only five, but who’s counting?) People from whom I would like to hear 7’s from...but will never happen because my blogging world is too small.
Sonny
Bob
Carlos
Kevin
Steve

The Amazing Flossible Arm Hair

Here is another chance to poke fun at me and proof that radioactive fallout did land in Moab, Utah. Where else would I have been exposed? Just this very day, it was discovered that I had a hair on my arm (not arm pit) at least two inches in length (those that really know me can attest to the fact that I am not the hairy chimp type. All the other hairs on my arm would be considered standard arm length hair... But this, a regular Jack and the Bean Stock story folks. I swear it grew overnight, how else could it get soooo long without my notice? I think it is safe to assume that (if this thing grows back) by the time I am retired, this thing will be able to wrap around my arm like a kite string.


(The curved line is the actual hair next to the quarter...for size reference)

ps. I know that I am supposed to be working on posting my Seven-7's blog, but this had to come first.

The Picnic

As a mother’s day surprise for my FIL’s mother, all seven of her children gathered together (the first time in years) for a picnic at her house in Salina, OK on the Saturday before mother’s day. There was food galor...bbq brisket, ham, fried chicken, salads, chips, cookies, cakes, soda. If anyone went hungry, it was their own fault. We took lots of pictures at great-grandma G’s house, including a 4 generation picture with just my family, FIL and grandma.

After the food had time to digest and camera batteries were dead or in need of a re-charge, it was time for a showdown at the horseshoe pit. Too my astonishment, the list of challengers was short. I was partnered up with my FIL’s oldest brother and we commenced a throwin. Now I ain’t the best horseshow thrower in the world or even on a local level but I can score a point or two, usually with some consistency. Down went the first competitors (ol uncle-in-law threw a couple back-to-back ringers to blow them away 21-6). There was only one other team that had courage sufficient to challenge the undefeated champions for the Salina belt. While that second game lasted longer, the final score was 21-11. We stood victoriously upon the podium as the national anthem played and flowers were laid at our feet. Okay, so we went pretty much ignored by the rest of the bunch who were to busy shootin the breeze. My kids lasted about 5 minutes of the first round before they were off playing explorer or checking out the dogs, chickens, and ducks.

It was a fine and dandy Mother’s day celebration for those in attendance.

Seven 7’s coming soon....

Part V: Kindred Homes

This post will be for most of my readers, so bear with me as I write for the sake of memories. There sits in Pryor, Oklahoma the home of my wife’s grandfather. The home sits on about 20 acres and has been there for a long time. And the house is green. About 700 miles away, to the west, sits two homes that are well known to my family, Aunt Linda’s old home in Bedrock and Grandpa’s home in Paradox.

If you were to take the comfortable lived-in feeling from both homes, mix them together, and keep it all one level, you would have this home in Pryor. The furniture, pictures on the wall, dining table, beds, kitchen, furnace/stove, (the list could go on) were all similar. I could literally feel the bond between these three homes and I took great comfort and breathed deeply the sense of solace and simpler days. I was left looking for an orchard or calves to feed out of giant baby bottles. I settled for seeing the dogs, chickens and litter of kittens.

There is something unique about old homes of this generation. They are humble abodes and have silent walls just itching to share their tales of hardships and challenges of raising a family. This will be the second to last chapter about our trip to Oklahoma I was going to save it for last because of the memories that were stirred—happy memories in a time when everyone else was struggling. The fact that my kids enjoyed their brief layover in great-grandpa’s house was exceptionally rewarding. However, I have one final post about Salina, that is simmering on the back burner. Let's hope I don't burn it.



pss. Believe it or not, there is a billboard between Lubbock and Amarillo, that advertises Buffalo Chip Liquor. (I can only imagine why they call it that. Instead of a worm at the bottom of the bottle, you have a little ball of dung...?)

Continued from Oklahoma

We awoke early the next morning (Thursday) to make it to the funeral in Pryor (a good hour drive). Again we loaded up the kids in the van and followed my wife’s uncle to the church. In an attempt to not sound disrespectful, I will say that I have never been to a Catholic funeral and I was not sure what to expect. It was very different from the typical Mormon funeral, but those in attendance seemed to enjoy the services and the purpose was served. Afterwards, there was a luncheon at the church for family members before heading over to the cemetery (another hour drive) in a small town that I never found out the name of. This cemetery was so small...it probably fit on a ½ acre. Somehow we missed out on about half of the graveside service and one of our children discovered thistle. Fortunately, it was contained to just her finger.

We then returned back to our guest accommodations and visited with grieving aunts and uncles. It was an awkward situation for me; one, because of my lack of knowing the deceased step-grandmother, and because the closest person I have ever lost is my grandparents, thirdly, death has a different meaning for me [(I assume) a very loaded word]. I mostly sat back and listened as an outsider looking in, trying to asses the situation, hoping for a chance to join the conversation. That never happened. We retired early that night and slept very soundly for the next 10 hours.

On The Way There

See previous post
Leaving at 4:00pm to any place that is more than a couple hours away is rarely a pleasant experience. Because of our haste, we did not know our exact final destination. We were to call when we got closer to the end. I jumped onto Mapquest and entered Lubbock as our starting point and Wagoner as our finishing point (outskirts of Hulbert is where we ended up). As such, Mapquest sent us through the toll roads that bypass Oklahoma City on the west and lead up towards Tulsa. We had to shell out nearly $10.00 between seven different toll booths that covered less than 60 miles. Anyway, while in route on these toll roads we pulled into a gas station just moments before 11:00pm. One child (out of diapers) had pooped their pants (trying to hold it) and another (out of diapers, had peed their pants, while asleep in the van.). The gas station closed at 11:00. Bless the lady who was working and unlocked the bathrooms for us to get our kids cleaned up and in their pj’s. As we neared our destination (with only 5-10 miles to go) we heard a child exclaim, “I don’t feel good” (the roads at this point were full of twist and turns, ups and downs). Fortunately we avoided the barfing in the vehicle scene (which has happened a time or two or three) as we arrived sometime between 1:00 and 2:00 am. Tired and beleaguered, we were shown to our accommodations...

The Woman I almost Didn’t Know

Disclaimer: The following series of Blog postings will entail the adventures that transpired last week. Some postings may seem like ramblings, but due to the nature of a Blog and my lack of desire for editing more than one draft, you are stuck with what I dish out and this Blog may change quickly, pending on the time that I allot for telling this story (so commentors may be a day late and a dollar short). Also, pictures will be optional.

Last Tuesday, we received notice that my father-in-law’s step mother had passed away. Most of my father-in-law’s kin folk can be found in the north-eastern section of Oklahoma (and you can pass through the town of Okay, OK to get there). Now I had met this lady twice, both times, very briefly. The first time was at a family reunion in OK back in 2000 (the first reunion in 20 years) and the second time was when my father-in-law’s parents came out for a visit to Utah a couple of years ago. If you combine both visits, I probably spent a total of 30 minutes in her presence, talking and conversing.

Being Catholic, the funeral was scheduled for Thursday. We received word from my father-in-law, early Wednesday that he was in AZ, en route to OK. Now those who know me, can testify that I ain’t the most spontaneous person in the world (except when it comes to buying snacks in the grocery store) and it was decided that we would make the trip to OK and pay our last respects to this lady. So we spent the next four hours packing like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off, made arrangements for substitutes at church, picked chillins up from school, dropped stuff off at TTU, etc and headed onto the open road by 4:00pm. We arrived to our destination by 1:30am.

Ever Hear of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?...Morons.

The philosophy bug has taken hold yet again. My oldest asked a thought provoking question. The kind that a parent can not just shrug off and offer a simple response, so I open this discussion for other great minds and solicit your response to the following: If someone were to own shadows, would they own you as well because you are attached to your shadow?

*Bonus question: Who is the man in the picture?
(Please allow 6-8 weeks for your consolation prize. Prizes are subject to
availability)

Little Girl Solves Mystery...

Little girl solves mystery that has stumped scientist for ages! Yes folks, in a turn of unprecedented events. My own daughter has finally cracked the riddle of which came first, the chicken or the egg. With grace under pressure that only an innocent child can muster, she calmly, rationally and truthfully testified that the egg comes first. That’s right. The egg comes first. To back up her declaration, she replied, “You have eggs for breakfast and chicken for dinner.” We are anxiously awaiting a response from the representatives for the Nobel Prize. Martinelli's Sparkling Cider has been flowing non-stop for hours during the festive moments in our home. Not everyone can have a prodigy, so you’re welcome to claim that you know us.

My Blogging Tree

In order to establish order, I will attempt to explain my connections or Blog pedigree. While I was still employed for the diamond company, I discovered that my supervisor was the cousin of The Jolly Porter (who I went to high school with and who was in the same grade as Lo Down) My supervisor told me to check out his cousin’s Blog cause it’s really funny. It was from the posted comments that I began to re-establish connections and make new ones. Please correct me if I make any mistakes in my connections and help me fill in the semantic and/or mental gaps. I think ~J has done a better job at making all the connections than I have.
• Papai Yokum – Would be just one of my older brothers (the others have yet to play in the blogging world). He probably feels as old as his Blog namesake at times and dreams of a more carefree environment of Dogpatch, but his real persona is a complete opposite of Pappy.
• The Lo Down – I’ve known Lo, since I was nine. We grew up together—in worlds apart. She’s a year older than I and was a girl for Pete’s sake. I had long since lost contact with her and her brother Dally News.
• Confessions of a Pottymouth Mom- I’m not sure whose Blog I first encountered Sister Pottymouth. But hey, she was a friend of Lo Down’s so I jumped into her blogging melee.
• the jolly porter –see explanation above. It’s all his fault that the rest of you can’t get rid of me.
• oh, judy! - wife of the Jolly Porter, so by virtue of that relationship…besides, she lets people post to her Blog on a regular basis, unlike her husband who’s blog has to be aligned with the stars or fit into his teaching schedule.
• the executive –I went to high school with the executive (same grade and all). I found him through a link of a link of a link and eventually saw him posting on a familiar site…it could have been yours.
• Every Day I Write The Book – oh boy, another girl that I went to high school with who was a year older. Don’t get me wrong, I like girls, I just always felt intimidated by girls older than I was.
• Ignore The Crazy - really good friends to Oh Judy. Enough said.
• From the mixed-up files of a middle-aged mind - I believe I came to know Compulsive through Sister Potty Mouth.
• ~j – my closest connection to her is through Lo Down even though she also knows a few others on this list.
• C-Jane - is a sister to the Jolly Porter. It’s possible we’ve met, but I would be surprised. There are other family members in the blogging universe; I just haven’t landed on those planets yet.

If anyone has felt left out, I apologize, I'm just not there yet....I'm working on it.

The Waiting Game

We welcome you today to The Waiting Game, where you, yes you, will have a chance to sit and wait in the comfort of your own home as you count the minutes, nay hours, nay days, maybe even week— and for the bold of heart…months to find out the fate of yours truly. For our first round of waiting, we ask you to bite your nails and grab hold of the loved one sitting next to you as Puxameu waits in quite desperation (no breaking limbs or downcast faces) for the results of his MATC Portfolio review. Ladies and Gentlemen, if Puxameu receives a passing grade, he is practically guaranteed to advance to the next level. The level of Job Hunting. (Puxameu has already spent time applying to jobs locally and across the nation.) So he is off to a decent start, especially if he passes the Portfolio test. The Job Hunt wait is not for the faint of heart. You may be expected to wait for what may seem like eternities for the job to finally come to Puxameu. He will need every finger and toe crossed by everyone in our audience. Rub the Rosary, or belly of the chubby, fat bald statue dude if you’ve got them too. Never before in the history of this program have we presented you with this level of drama and suspense. Please, if you need assistance, reboot your computer, turn off the screen saver, and bookmark this page.

Like spinning the wheel of chance, hopefully fortune, Puxameu will become a household name with action figures to boot. We are accepting pre-orders now. Send cash or money orders immediately to Puxameu Inc.and we will think about sending you not just one, but two Puxameu action figures with built in pull string that says “Rock on Puxameu, Rock on Puxameu, give me a dollar. (sorry, no refunds available for any reason)

Aches and Pains of the Body and Mind

Welcome to my short lived pity party. All attendees must arrive with gifts in hand. Two weeks ago (through events of my own making…..yes, I fess up to the blame) I overindulged in eating pizza and chugging root beer I suffered in such a manner that I have never suffered before. I had a marathon, decathlon, Navy seal like training— attack of my hiatal hernia. I’ve had previous attacks which have been short lived, but in this particular case, it was an all night, not-so-slumber-party of pain. For the next three days, I suffered through the post trauma effects of the attack until I was finally able to go see a doctor and get some pharmaceutical relief and help my body heal. And that concludes the aches and pains of the body…

Whilst everyone else in this happy valley was celebrating Spring Break (a week long party) I was glued to my computer chair getting a little Halo gaming action in (ya right). No, I was working on my portfolio (in place of a Master’s thesis)…the reality of graduation looms near and I had procrastinated the day of my scholarly repentance. As such, I spent many long hours each day putting it all together. I am glad to say that 90% of this last minute up-hill, feel the burn of the run, is over with. I have some minor editing changes to do and then I just have to put it all together in an HTML and PDF format, burn 4 copies and turn the little devil in. And that is the pains of the mind.

To our great celebration, Lubbock finally had back to back days of measurable precipitation. We had received only a sparse .003” of rain between October 2005 and March 2006. Totally unheard of in these parts. I think between yesterday and today, we have had at least .5” of rain. Yippee!!

Things are shaping up. Pity party is over. Thanks for stopping by.

Save The Day

Yes folks, it was another triumphant day for the forces of good. The other day, right in the middle of the spin cycle on our washer, something went Zoing! Clink-a-link-a-clunck-clunk-clunck! I promptly changed into my alter-ego. Up on its side went the washer in despair. Great Neptunes thought I! What appeared to be a belt was no longer in its proper orbit and one of the springs that helps hold the tub in place was dead on the floor, like a severed limb without the gore. I began drawing various tools from my utility belt in not so quite desperation. This was proving to be more villainous than I could have predicted. I contacted Alfred (a distant relation) on my radio transmitter. Alfred was unable to provide any tech support and to my chagrin I called it a night realizing the problem was not going anywhere that night.

Thank heavens for my wonderful side-kick Honeylishous Babe. The next day while my mild mannered side was in school, Honeylishous Babe went the distance and researched what knowledge we humans had been able to collect on our nemesis. To our astonishment, all was needed was put a silver bullet (a.k.a. machine screw….back into place) and re-attach the spring.
What we thought was a loose belt was in fact a noise reduction device that has no replacement part.

So later that night, after the kids had been safely tucked into bed, I once again changed into my alter-ego, replaced the screw, snipped and removed the damaged noise-reducing belt, re-attached the spring using my super-human muscles and wa-la! We have an operational washer again.

Thanks Honeylishous Babe! I could not have done it without you.

Wisdom of Ages

While eating lunch today with my wife and two youngest, I asked my four year old if he was going to be a papa when he grew up. He said no. I asked him if he was going to be daddy (a term he is more familiar with). He said no. I then asked him what he was going to be when he grew up. His reply, “I’m going to be a missionary and go to church.” Of course we would love to see him be a missionary before becoming a daddy; I was just amazed that he had made that distinction at such a young age. In fact I am regularly amazed at the perception of children and their level of understanding. This just happens to be one of the latest.

My seven year old, came home from school and had written the following for one of his assignments. "If I was President for one day I would buy the mall, get a wife and we will get married and we will get baby." Wow! What whould I do if I were President for a day? A good day to be a parent.

Tell Me No Secrets

I hereby allow you to poke fun and laugh at my expense. I was at another memorable visit to the Periodontist (a fancy/smancy dentist that charges lots more for more complicated problems). I had the left side of my mouth cleaned, not just a regular cleaning, but a deep scale cleaning. Those who have had this procedure will empathize. Because my tolerance for pain is so low, I was given a mouthful of Novocain injections and my favorite, Nitrous-Oxide. I mean seriously, if I had to endure the pain my wife goes through when having a baby, I would flat out die. Not just wish for death, but die. Flat-liner, nail the door shut and put me in a hole. So accolades to all mothers who know pain.

Anyway, after I returned home from this adventure, I had one of my more glorious moments when I tried to rinse my mouth with a warm salt water solution. Still numb from the Novocain, I was standing over the sink and swishing and swishing and spitting out the water into the sink. Unfortunately I lacked the necessary coordination and muscle control at this moment in time and realized that I had proceeded to get more water all over myself than in the sink. Just the swishing around part was enough to cause water to trickle down my front and soak my shirt. The moral of the story being: Do not tell any secrets to someone who has just returned from the Dentist (Periodontist) because their loose lips will let everything spill out and sink that ship.