State Fair 2008 in pictures...well, and captions...

First things first, the perfect (not really) parking spot. If you go in time to miss the hottest part of the day, you go in time to park 12 gazillion miles from the gate. More or less.

While Joshy and Tina enjoyed the sea lion show - the rests of us found shade behind the bleachers. The hotter is got, the sweatier cubby bear got and the sweatier the cubby bear, the crazier the hair. Example A...

Example B.

About an hour in, Joshy's three year old legs were ready for a rest. Thank goodness we brought the big stroller. If nothing else, at least they have "what the crap" expression in common.

One of my favorite attractions is the Agcropolis and Joshy, Farmer for a Day. Step 1 - Plant and water the seeds...

Step 2 - Pick the fruits of your labor.

Step 3 - Super cow?

You make us smile Aunt B.

The camel ride was a shocker because every time we have had Joshy remotely close to any sort of animal, Santa Clause, dog...the usual result is screaming and running. This time he hopped right on. It was fun to see.

The most important thing of all to pass on - how to use the foot rejuvinator.

The best part of the night was sitting and eating our funnel cakes and cotton candy while Joshy played with his balloon sword and the Native American booth played songs on the wind pipe.

Ultimately the reason we all go is for the food. The one time a year that you feast on Indian Tacos, grilled corn, turkey legs, salt water taffy, root beer by the jug, and most importantly of all...cheesecake on a stick.

As the last hoorah of the night. Ross tried his hand at bull riding and fortunately stayed on long enough to beat his predecessor. The plastered boy who asked for all they had and was thrown from the bull in projectile fashion and then slithered out of the booth minus a shoe and a memory that would surely be flushed down the toilet with the rest of his wise decisions made that night.

Quote of the Week

"To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kinda scary. I've wondered where this started, and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus and a clown killed my dad." - Jack Handy

That is the thing about bugs...

...you never see them coming.

It's not easy being green...

Act 1 - The death of a lawn mower

When we moved to our new house with the big back and sloping front yards, we were thrilled to have the up size. Room for Joshy to run. Room for barbecues. Room for playing in the sprinklers. In a neighborhood of well kept yards, our self propelled mower kept ours rivaling the Jones'. Then four weeks ago when without warning or signs of illness, the lawn mower died. John was certain that he could fix it. Back from the hardware store he came with oil and spark plugs and kits guaranteeing success. After intensive work, he finally called it...time of death, 8/16. As lawns do, ours grew. Grew in patches. Grew high. Grew weeds. Fearing the inevitable knock on the door from the neighborhood association we decided to hire someone to get it back in top shape in a hurry until we could go fetch a new mower of our own. The gardener did a fine job on his riding mower, zipping back and forth at $2.00 a swath. With the short term satisfied, it was time for John to research his replacement.

Act 2 - The birth of a vision

As John began to scan the internet, he got the idea in his head that the path to take was not the wide but narrow. What are the problems we are facing? Economy. Yes. Environment. Yes. Waking up neighbors at night when mowing in the backyard. Apparently, yes. How do we solve these problems? Man powered mower. It doesn't take gas, he says. No carbon foot print, he says. Won't wake the neighbors if mowing out back at night. Look at these videos on You Tube. See how easily it cuts the grass. See how the people smile. This is the lawn mower we need.

Act 3 - Death by lawn mower

As John returns from Home Depot with his purchase, I descend from the house to mow. It is an excuse for sun and an acceptable amount of workout. I have seen the 50's movies and the men cutting the lawns in their dress shorts and hat, how hard can it be? First push - 5 inches. Second push - 5 inches. Third push - 5 inches. Are we sensing a pattern? If the lawn had been mowed two days ago, no problem, with the jungle in front of me, nearly impossible. One swath in I was sweating. Three swaths in I was panting. Five swaths in I was on the verge of sun stroke or death, willing to take either if it meant I was lying down. With each step I took my mind was making a list of all the evil things I could think of that were green. With half the lawn behind me I was done. John and his bright idea could cut the rest. So in I come and out he goes, jeans and undershirt, hat and wallet. Five minutes later, in to shed the wallet and keys. No extra weight, he says. Another five and he's in for more water and minus the hat. Ten and he's assuring the neighbor that he's not having a stroke. Five more and he's inside, taking what appears to be a permanent break. Our attempt to simply mow our front yard "green" has left me unable to move my arms, laying on the couch, him panting for air, staring at the wall and our lawn three-fourths mowed with a man-powered mower sitting idle in the sun.

Green is bad, Patrick Star, green is bad.

The face of vision

The faces of realism

The instrument of torture and the half mowed lawn

Good Idea/Bad Idea Part 2

Good idea: Decorate your living room wall.

Bad idea: Decide that you want to use white squares to make a mural. As you stick them up, you grow frustrated with the fact that the sticky backing is not holding and decide, in what I must say was an awesome decision, to superglue the squares to the wall. Of course, you are eyeballing this, as why would you want to level something that is being superglued to your wall? As you step back and look at your crooked square you decide that you will just gently pry it off and straighten it out. Of course, at your first gentle tug, it pops off along with the plaster from the wall behind it. So, there you stand, superglueing plaster back to your drywall next to the other hanging squares that you now decidedly hate.

Moral of the story: When you get the urge to superglue squares to your wall, just put down the glue and walk away. As a failsafe, having a brother-in-law that wields a mean putty knife doesn't hurt.

This morning...

Joshy told me that he slept well because the dinosaurs on his wall ward off the monsters. Ward. That little boy just makes me smile.

Joshy and the Frog

I have been working hard to try and start getting my house in order. Not "clean" in order, but "unpacked" in order. We still have boxes untouched from the move and not having a garage means that they are sitting unopened in the house. Now, I have covered plenty of times the fact that I am not blessed with the cleaning gene. So, when the urge hits, I have found that it is a good idea to just ride that wave as long as it lasts. So, last night, around 10:00pm, I get the itch. It starts with the kitchen and moves to the living room and before you know it, it is 5:30 in the morning and I had stayed up the entire night cleaning. Needless to say, a personal record. One incredibly long backstory later, it was in this cleaning madness that I organized the boys room. The kind of organize that assigns everything a place. Which is, I suppose, the only kind of organize. Nice. Still, my original point was that I set up Joshy's tepee that he had received last Christmas because every good imagination needs a secret hideout. However, sometime between Christmas and now, a few of the essential components have gone missing. So, today I got him a replacement. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Joshy and the frog: