911-The Weekend

On Saturday, Ethan was here.  After playing baseball, he busied himself driving his 16 cars and trucks across the kitchen floor.

After dinner, he was bothered.  His grandpa had loaned the trailer out to a neighbor.  Upon its return, Grandpa left the trailer parked out front.  Ethan new full well that this is not where the trailer belongs.

 

He tried valiantly to attach the trailer to his go-cart,

and move it to the back of the house.

I laughed.  He donned his grandpa's work gloves,

and climbed into the trailer

in an attempt to figure out

what was keeping it from moving.

 

He cranked the front up and down several times the way he's seen Grandpa do.

When it began getting dark,

he finally believed me when I told him Grandpa was waiting until morning to pull it around to the back.

I was surprised to see Michael attach the trailer to his mower, early the next morning, before Ethan was awake.  It was probably just as well.

Something went wrong and the trailer landed in the ditch.

I was thankful that we didn't have to dial 911 & Ethan's grandpa had not ended up in the ditch underneath the trailer.

911

Nine, One, One, three little numbers.  Two of the 10 numbers found on a phone key pad.  Before telephones, I don't think these digits held great significance, unless you happened to be born on 9/11 or had 911 dollars in your pocket.

In the late 1960's and early 70's,  the numbers 911 became the official code for emergencies.  Anywhere in the U.S., I can dial 911 on a telephone and have police, fire, or ambulance services dispatched to my location.  Nine, one, one is synonymous with receiving emergency help.

In 2001, September 11 became a date forever etched in the hearts and minds of Americans.  Many remember how the day started, probably typical of most days.  It was a Tuesday.  I know that because I began my morning at a 5:30 a.m. prayer meeting.  I returned home by 6:45.  I made breakfast, packed school lunches, and took my kids to school.

I came home and began cleaning the kitchen.  I continued praying over pressing events from earlier in the morning.  I mulled over the seemingly strange topics we'd prayed for in our early morning session.  Sometime after 9, Michael turned the television on because he'd heard something on the internet about a catastrophic emergency developing in our country.  The rest of the day is mostly a blur, with the exception of being glued to the t.v., and the terrible devastation shown over and over.

Recently, 911 took on a different kind of significance.  Thankfully, nothing as monumental or fatefull as September 11, 2001.  Christopher & Lauren moved to New Orleans in August.  Their new home address: 911 Louisiana Lane (or something like that.)  Hilary moved into an apartment near the college.  Her apartment number is 911.  Interesting that I have 2 of my kids calling home to 911.

Tomorrow I'll share how we spent 9/11/11.

Labor Day Weekend

Labor Day weekend  marks the end of summer.

The weather takes a nose dive around this time.

Last Thursday Michael went golfing.  It was 99 degrees.

On Sunday we went boating. It was a balmy 72.

The boys fished.

Ethan loves fishing.

Men are serious about fishing.

 Then some of the boys felt the need to jump in the cold water.

Someone said Ethan jumped.

I'm not sure I believe it.

I didn't post the photo

of the sheer terror on Ethan's face.

Sam couldn't let his manhood go unchallenged.

(Those were his words before jumping.)

 

Michael and Brian did not feel compelled to jump.

Notice the sweatshirt crowd

Sam caught a fish, but I didn't get a pic.

Feet dangled in the water

 I told you it was cold.

The weather grew warmer

We enjoyed the ride.

 For a moment, I thought I was back at the beach.

 Ethan drove the boat.

 "No grandpa, I've got it."

"No really, go sit down."

Ahoy!

 A pirate-y ship

What? 

You didn't see me on the boat? 

I was there...

by the food,

 

where else did you think you'd find me?

Senior Moment

My mom-in-law has been waiting for a phone call-for nearly two weeks.  I began to wonder if her Dr. was out of town, excusing his tardiness for not calling back.  She hates to go anywhere, for fear that he'll call the moment she walks out the door.  (She didn't give him her cell phone number since "it's long distance.)  Instead, she carries around the phone wherever she goes.  Usually that is sitting on the front porch.

Yesterday Michael went outside to talk to her.  He asked her why she had the t.v. remote with her.  She looked at the table beside herself.  Sure enough, there was the remote control to her television.  No wonder she hadn't heard back from the doctor's office.

(Just in case you are wondering...no, I am not poking fun at my mother-in-law.  I can't.  We have a good relationship and can laugh at ourselves for having a senior moments.  It happens to me all of the time.  I run downstairs to get something.  I find myself standing in the family room, racking my brain, trying to remember what I went down there for.  I know the moment I go back up the stairs,  I will reach the top remember what it is I wanted.  Instead of going up,  I wander to the kitchen, then the laundry room, even open the pantry or refrigerator hoping to jog my memory.  It doesn't usually work, so I head back up the stairs.  The moment I step off the tope one, I figure it out and back down I go.)

I Hate It When...

I go to the gym,
Set my water bottle down,
Come back later,
Take a big swig,
And it tastes funny, kind of sweaty/salty.

I glance around,
A few feet away,
I see another water bottle,
Identical to mine.

Cough,
Choke,
Spit.

I look around.
I'm really not interested
In sharing my water bottle with anyone I see.

I wonder if the matching water bottle owner thinks I just drank from "his" water bottle.

Cycling

Pro Cycling descended upon Colorado over the weekend.

 The race rolled close to home, 

 giving us a glimpse of the crazies that come out,

and what a big event cycling is.

 Look closely at the determination on the yellow shirt,

That is the look of a winner-Levi Leipheimer.

 

Go USA!