No Apologies

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WW: Comfort

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A Penny For Your Thoughts

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The Next Teddy Roosevelt

This is so out of character for our family. However, I could not pass up the opportunity to take these photos. In the wake of his mother's death, my father has shockingly gotten off his packrat ass and begun to clean out the masses of items he has collected over the years. In his early days he hunted, but as time has passed (and the likelihood of any of his grandchildren hunting being a snowball's chance in hell), he has begun divest himself of his hunting equipment.

Here is LittleMan, in probably the only photo you will ever see of him with a gun. If I'd had cammo and a NASCAR trucker hat he'd have been wearing them. And don't worry. He doesn't know that he was holding a gun and never even asked. Take a look at the canister in front of his feet (click to enlarge). There is a bullet for the rifle on it. I put it in my hand for some perspective. And folks, I've got big ol' man hands, so no it is not a tiny bullet. Bullwinkle wouldn't stand a chance.

There's a New Caracatus In Town

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You Down With OCD? Yeah You Know Me!

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Doing It the Hard Way

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One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

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Boredom In the Shoe Store

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WW: The Best Handyman in DC

This is what happens when your cheap landlord hires a sketchy handyman to fix the rotting wood on the bottom of the shed on the property you rent.



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Butterfly Boy

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WW: Tasty Children

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I See You!!

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My Fishy Feet

LittleBird checks it out



Now it's my turn!! WooHoo!



Look at those suckers go!!



LittleBird didn't want to stick her hands in



There must be words for this:

I totally went to see the Dr. Fish for a fish pedicure.

I know this is supposed to be a Wordless Wednesday post, but I cannot rave about it enough.

Be forewarned: Anyone who comes to visit will be making a trip with me. Forget the White House. Screw the Smithsonian. Before we do the regular touristy stuff, we are getting our feet chewed!


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First Date With the Dentist

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Who Is Walking Whom?

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Not Just a Song For Kids

Isn't it wonderful to find something that touches you on a deep level? Especially when you are not looking for it?

I stumbled across this song in one of my random site-jumping moments. The title is what caught my attention. What a beautiful sentiment.

Crayola Doesn’t Make a Color For Your Eyes

by Kristin Andreasssen & Megan Downes / Yellowcar Music, ASCAP

I went to see the doctor. I’d come down with the blues.
She said “No, I can’t cure you, but I know something you can do.
Take out a piece of paper, and sit down for a while,
and draw a pretty picture of something that makes you smile.”

Well, I know what makes me happy. Didn’t have to think for long.
But when I tried to draw it, it always came out wrong.
I had a box of 12, 48 and 64,
but nowhere could I find that one shade I was looking for.
I guess I realized shoulda come as no surprise

Crayola doesn’t make a color for your eyes.
There is no way that I could possibly describe you.
Crayola doesn’t make a color to draw my love.

At first I thought of Green Blue, but then I saw Blue Green.
And then sometimes in bright light, they look Aquamarine.
I think at night they’re darker. I looked again for you.
Saw Grey and Black and went out walkin’ after Midnight Blue
But the hues of the deepest skies would be a compromise...

Chorus

Spring Green is much too yellow, Sea Green is far too pale.
Cornflower’s way too mellow, so I’ll try again and fail.
There’s no way I can capture the way you make me feel.
One look from you is rapture, whether Blue or Green or Teal.
No color qualifies. That crayon’s telling lies...

Crayola doesn’t make a color…

Hey look, it’s Periwinkle. So sure I got it now.
But you wink and there’s a twinkle in your eye and still, somehow,
I just can’t get that sparkle. Those glitter crayons won’t.
Maybe Glow-In-The-Dark’ll get it right. Aw, no they don’t.
Mr. Crayola tries, but I’m left to fantasize...

Crayola doesn’t make a color...

For your eyes, something darker let’s see what I can find.
Melted mahogany and got the depth not the shine.
Just about gave up and then I peeled the paper off a little end of…
Really thought it coulda been… ahh, not even Burnt Sienna!
Your passport says they’re brown, but I’m gonna keep lookin’ round…

WW: Childhood Rites of Passage

Click on the photo to make it larger.

The Swingset Won


Ice Cream Makes It All Better



My Resilient Little Bird

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WW: Nostalgia Gone Too Far

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WW: When Diapering Goes Horribly Wrong

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To get a REAL eyeful, click the picture for the enlarged image.







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