tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15384772563666025562024-03-05T17:18:09.809-08:00Dave's HomeA Diary of the Daily Goings On at a California Foster Home for Children.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-43482144490598288372010-03-09T22:47:00.000-08:002010-03-09T22:56:54.971-08:00Blog on Hiatus<span class="dropcap">S</span>orry, folks, but I have re-evaluated my priorities and decided to stop regular postings to this blog -- at least for now. There are too many things going on simultaneously, and I was losing sleep trying to keep up with all of them. I also wasn’t exercising regularly like I used to, and like I <em>need</em> to.<br />
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Believe it or not, until September of 2009, I used to play tennis an average of twice a week. I am a membor of a tennis club and the USTA and everything! Tennis used to be a big part of my life, and the life of my foster kids, too, as I would drag them to my league matches and practices. Then I injured my back and my elbow and took a break for them to heal. It was supposed to be a short break, but other things quickly filled in the time gap. Without really noticing it, six months went by!<br />
<br />
I believe a balanced life leads to a happy life, and one element to a balanced life is regular exercise -- preferably the sort you look forward to rather than dread. My recent re-evaluation revealed how much I missed playing tennis, so I’ve rearranged my schedule to make playing a priority again. It sure feels good!<br />
<br />
Unfortunately there are only so many hours in a day. Even without tennis I was having trouble keeping up. To put tennis back in my life I had to give some things up. Regular posting to this blog was one of these sacrifices.<br />
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I do plan to post when I can, and hope that the craziness of 2010 will eventually die down enough for me to post more regularly.<br />
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Thanks, and take care, everyone!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-62886707039447310672010-02-27T22:31:00.000-08:002010-02-27T22:36:41.529-08:00Week of Storms<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2b3M1jdI5QiC1BhnOIpfQKVOlslen-GVAw09ojgwi8p628pHS7e2c4A_G1iHiRJ89RSN_FdyxDTl6NPj9C1j20fCA0WJh-MGncd_43JLSOaexXoG542hpw6c42i01m1b534UFkQ9gDO5/s1600-h/Storm+Clouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2b3M1jdI5QiC1BhnOIpfQKVOlslen-GVAw09ojgwi8p628pHS7e2c4A_G1iHiRJ89RSN_FdyxDTl6NPj9C1j20fCA0WJh-MGncd_43JLSOaexXoG542hpw6c42i01m1b534UFkQ9gDO5/s200/Storm+Clouds.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">I</span>t’s been a week of storms, around Dave’s Home, across the country and around the world. I’m not just talking about the weather, either.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">An earthquake of magnitude 8.8 struck Chile early this morning. The ground shook for over a minute, and was felt thousands of miles away.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6iiQfKCo-KqcJji8seuCGcV1nx9i7AwacmYfacDqL0xgRIPbCvt1gz9pVXbm2E2LryAcgCgyzgHqRLKIxZUzJE8bjPUnHKiJN6DgIKQ4dY3SS8PTaNhX_Z2cHrisC8v465vv5DyaMx_0/s1600-h/Chili+Quake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6iiQfKCo-KqcJji8seuCGcV1nx9i7AwacmYfacDqL0xgRIPbCvt1gz9pVXbm2E2LryAcgCgyzgHqRLKIxZUzJE8bjPUnHKiJN6DgIKQ4dY3SS8PTaNhX_Z2cHrisC8v465vv5DyaMx_0/s200/Chili+Quake.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YUfUYl8XUYAU5IOYw7CLT29yrF4NdPuy8jL50l0lGSKDk5j_u7Yjm9xM8_0SPxrW0hjGDUdGpHtdQ5wEW3IfpsE3YWGLOpnOSCvszCzNaTXRd8vy3g7P82y852Xdbmqra7dbrMHu1NPn/s1600-h/Chili+Shake+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YUfUYl8XUYAU5IOYw7CLT29yrF4NdPuy8jL50l0lGSKDk5j_u7Yjm9xM8_0SPxrW0hjGDUdGpHtdQ5wEW3IfpsE3YWGLOpnOSCvszCzNaTXRd8vy3g7P82y852Xdbmqra7dbrMHu1NPn/s200/Chili+Shake+Map.jpg" width="170" /></a>The Chilean quake generated tsunami tidal waves that have already hit some islands in the Pacific, and eight foot waves were expected to slam the Hawaiian Islands today, starting around 1:00pm PST.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I experienced the Loma Prieta earthquake back in 1989. It knocked down freeways and one section of the Bay Bridge, yet it was only a magnitude 6.9 lasting 15 seconds. I can’t imagine how terrifying a temblor nearly two orders of magnitude stronger and lasting four times as long would be – and I hope I never do.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQENrX4B30wH88ZjFp7YGMxOfd6gjWsplHjnGE58HJrNuYXUZ_ap0D7_5kss3MqAqQ_3cPBAvFKM0IlXd7kQI5kOUXmUm83Ox2nMwBv_qWpe_1tTPcVjHZYTp9l_f_HGGeLdg-xHW5qqw5/s1600-h/Uncle+Sam.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQENrX4B30wH88ZjFp7YGMxOfd6gjWsplHjnGE58HJrNuYXUZ_ap0D7_5kss3MqAqQ_3cPBAvFKM0IlXd7kQI5kOUXmUm83Ox2nMwBv_qWpe_1tTPcVjHZYTp9l_f_HGGeLdg-xHW5qqw5/s200/Uncle+Sam.gif" width="176" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I want you!<br />
(Or your money)</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jS5pm-62RVAU5_y10UsbI5pzYMK2hhZ2TP8L-ZSrkTp9VnaglX68n-uKEHAO98AZkkKTsCXQ8rfYQ4WelBqV60hMgUiWBxTDM5sZ8YM8Y02uDOJEYyJlWy31RDZBF1ZHlEybvL6yAk5R/s1600-h/Turbo+Tax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jS5pm-62RVAU5_y10UsbI5pzYMK2hhZ2TP8L-ZSrkTp9VnaglX68n-uKEHAO98AZkkKTsCXQ8rfYQ4WelBqV60hMgUiWBxTDM5sZ8YM8Y02uDOJEYyJlWy31RDZBF1ZHlEybvL6yAk5R/s200/Turbo+Tax.jpg" width="158" /></a>Back at Dave’s Home, a couple of storms hit inside the house. The first was a storm of paperwork dredged up by the annual misery of income tax preparation. As in years past, I relied on Turbo Tax to guide me through this storm. So far this software has stood me in good stead with the IRS, knock on wood.<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGjT1JiDRZE3u34jJMUXC8Sslr_1FsAyr28IJEtaR1NPqt8ue-l4wfNv6txVApnIl-8mi6mPiazRKjFY5hdP-47D0I018b51uOlRmzt2VlR__ni6KRDM2n-xomwwuxkmCi5EAAQvPw_LK/s1600-h/Rockwell+Doc+Office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGjT1JiDRZE3u34jJMUXC8Sslr_1FsAyr28IJEtaR1NPqt8ue-l4wfNv6txVApnIl-8mi6mPiazRKjFY5hdP-47D0I018b51uOlRmzt2VlR__ni6KRDM2n-xomwwuxkmCi5EAAQvPw_LK/s200/Rockwell+Doc+Office.jpg" width="170" /></a>The second storm came in the form of illness. I couldn’t believe it myself, but little K fell sick yet again. He’s got strep throat, this time. Two more days of missed school for K, missed work for me, and piles of building blocks in the living room to keep him busy. Since November K has gotten sick an average of every 1.5 months. This time I took him to see the doctor right away, which turned out to be a good thing. He’s been on antibiotics ever since, and is feeling much better.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTMScQg0h1HIMUxnYblxR2djYRXyU3zPdRqwQbgkDmJ0D5zBF601O2xDSZTnpcTUCbPtLEkOfVjic_iRUWVo1w8Q9mdL4LgFK32yxSo74s4Jva7JkiUisNLECn0YpyDNlrPE9_U96KNwk/s1600-h/Sick+Again-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTMScQg0h1HIMUxnYblxR2djYRXyU3zPdRqwQbgkDmJ0D5zBF601O2xDSZTnpcTUCbPtLEkOfVjic_iRUWVo1w8Q9mdL4LgFK32yxSo74s4Jva7JkiUisNLECn0YpyDNlrPE9_U96KNwk/s200/Sick+Again-2.jpg" width="156" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjee2y1FllD41Wg2J-fuNa0tJz2UqoPvMrEv6AwUKbAPWpR1w1s5jwNZmOgmasay7MD3HuDlXagSQxItGzipfHyf15aMcmCGS1YjmPx8kf-HqWX7FGy_jD1-MML6pzHdTAxym-mOrrzABe2/s1600-h/Sick+Again-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjee2y1FllD41Wg2J-fuNa0tJz2UqoPvMrEv6AwUKbAPWpR1w1s5jwNZmOgmasay7MD3HuDlXagSQxItGzipfHyf15aMcmCGS1YjmPx8kf-HqWX7FGy_jD1-MML6pzHdTAxym-mOrrzABe2/s200/Sick+Again-1.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJR1GDwTHAta-KcNVl3pmNt_bN3R_9Askxb9gWbYtnW1jpTvwAIvVLSyDIyu4IPURZgQnCyktr84gHWGlATDo_SoI18OD9lQaJL0T_0fDly7d6IRQfnrQhEdHuJ9QO7bC-97o4R6hRennL/s1600-h/Cold+Wet+Day-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJR1GDwTHAta-KcNVl3pmNt_bN3R_9Askxb9gWbYtnW1jpTvwAIvVLSyDIyu4IPURZgQnCyktr84gHWGlATDo_SoI18OD9lQaJL0T_0fDly7d6IRQfnrQhEdHuJ9QO7bC-97o4R6hRennL/s200/Cold+Wet+Day-2.jpg" width="156" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKlQhIvg0Mcav0bEzV_maUuQdez_YmE8LDSesKPGukjjDpEQSgQzTrfluZCqcqW_uGlvLHB4_iwlDlWMLWoT_Dj8tiSeQtz14seViktXREWI-i9FuZhl1XdV7xYAecrZwuty9tRRumCQq/s1600-h/Red+Pawed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKlQhIvg0Mcav0bEzV_maUuQdez_YmE8LDSesKPGukjjDpEQSgQzTrfluZCqcqW_uGlvLHB4_iwlDlWMLWoT_Dj8tiSeQtz14seViktXREWI-i9FuZhl1XdV7xYAecrZwuty9tRRumCQq/s200/Red+Pawed.jpg" width="200" /></a>Let’s see, who haven’t I mentioned, yet? How about Cheesy the cat, who was caught red pawed trying to fish a fish out of the fish tank? Sorry, Cheesy, no fish for you!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTfxSapf9EgS-PO3A_khf_vZwlX5GmnzqTs7YMimEpS__tb9EqYP20AivHiO878b9iorMa8B7K778zTojLYQdKZgzINXXvFuWN3Q0PRnXl5EWaj-beeqpwKFDRfguFaIR1FgSq5qFSaLMF/s1600-h/Choc+Factory.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTfxSapf9EgS-PO3A_khf_vZwlX5GmnzqTs7YMimEpS__tb9EqYP20AivHiO878b9iorMa8B7K778zTojLYQdKZgzINXXvFuWN3Q0PRnXl5EWaj-beeqpwKFDRfguFaIR1FgSq5qFSaLMF/s200/Choc+Factory.gif" width="129" /></a>Other news in brief: We finished Stuart Little and started reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory before bedtime. The court sent notice of a mid-March hearing to dissolve my guardianship of P. And H & K are finally over their pizza overload, choosing Mountain Mike’s (a pizza place) above all other restaurants for a Friday night dinner out. They went nearly two weeks without their favorite food!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGbeVOHX8KYnO0yzMeTnQQev-RiUWXfRE1rpFKkucIsNwYmvdJBylUQsjEDJwSnPZGbxHkI4LJXlt1wP45ttHYVZ0A2LSWVZi1PGy0JPiAbI6iqQwxKKzL4ClbDpMhBFmXTD69Q_wI0GK/s1600-h/Could+Be+Worse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGbeVOHX8KYnO0yzMeTnQQev-RiUWXfRE1rpFKkucIsNwYmvdJBylUQsjEDJwSnPZGbxHkI4LJXlt1wP45ttHYVZ0A2LSWVZi1PGy0JPiAbI6iqQwxKKzL4ClbDpMhBFmXTD69Q_wI0GK/s320/Could+Be+Worse.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Storms and all, we weathered the week well.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>It could have been worse! I shot this photo on</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>my way to work. Talk about a bad commute!</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-54652026942780946962010-02-20T18:41:00.000-08:002010-02-20T18:45:49.786-08:00Science Breakthrough<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQrcfBv-SaonyHlLyqhOf2rN_BMTiq5r-xby1eKdWaU1yWIRm61pU-OHg6k_FNShG9CCb2Uubu9xOEvFFOQPMPGY6F0oIWqXGsOY-FC6H9f19T5wDOyUI3PLcbLq0nPmyUInqlZhOaDmD/s1600-h/IMG_2377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQrcfBv-SaonyHlLyqhOf2rN_BMTiq5r-xby1eKdWaU1yWIRm61pU-OHg6k_FNShG9CCb2Uubu9xOEvFFOQPMPGY6F0oIWqXGsOY-FC6H9f19T5wDOyUI3PLcbLq0nPmyUInqlZhOaDmD/s200/IMG_2377.JPG" width="197" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="dropcap">N</span>ews flash....straight out of Dave’s Home in California....kids, eight and eleven, create volcano-in-a-cup, or so they claim....“We did it upstairs in my bedroom,” says the older child, “with water, this powdery stuff (baking soda), Play Doh, and balls of chewing gum for color!”....proud foster parent unavailable for comment, last seen rushing upstairs with Resolve carpet cleaner in one hand, and carpet brush in the other....<br />
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(Now I know why they were so quiet while I was writing the last blog post.)</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-16183406487941555102010-02-20T17:38:00.000-08:002010-02-20T17:50:57.200-08:00Field Maintenance<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGvlRk3d1o2rEcLzKboWFeULg1jRcEj6i_V6MSdozK97Tg0eQ5EYdYf6jYzM5pCWMGkRKWGpZIK5npuH0bhVM_jPGmVcDlqruGaE5bLdhQaxJUIa8DKsi6AZcY00zDFAUElr2ElZaZfgR/s1600-h/IMG_2361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGvlRk3d1o2rEcLzKboWFeULg1jRcEj6i_V6MSdozK97Tg0eQ5EYdYf6jYzM5pCWMGkRKWGpZIK5npuH0bhVM_jPGmVcDlqruGaE5bLdhQaxJUIa8DKsi6AZcY00zDFAUElr2ElZaZfgR/s200/IMG_2361.JPG" width="177" /></a><span class="dropcap">O</span>n Wednesday we had another two hour double dose of therapy. Unfortunately this conflicted with K’s baseball practice, as his team chose Wednesdays for their weekday practice. When I signed the kids up for Little League I knew there was a good chance that one kid’s schedule or the other would conflict, but I rolled the dice anyway. Little K will have to make do with just one practice a week.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Thursday we were invited to Tracy’s house for a wonderful dinner of chicken parmesan and pasta. It was a welcome mid-week break from our normal evening routine.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnjS9ylzLUe3GyV-aFHPqoIga8dkyv6tOhaF2kiY6ZoZKoEtHrH4Il__g73dxGZP-sgJayoljHEkN7WPoApB_BbWydF0cX_XdQLv9aBS5Dit_BVFgnuK9UzrOieJGeMfpFu4eLErwgnQNa/s1600-h/Field+Maint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnjS9ylzLUe3GyV-aFHPqoIga8dkyv6tOhaF2kiY6ZoZKoEtHrH4Il__g73dxGZP-sgJayoljHEkN7WPoApB_BbWydF0cX_XdQLv9aBS5Dit_BVFgnuK9UzrOieJGeMfpFu4eLErwgnQNa/s200/Field+Maint.jpg" width="157" /></a>Today was baseball practice for H (again at eight o'clock in the AM) and field maintenance for K’s team. H’s team plays on a different set of fields than K’s team, and the fields are a little over a mile from each other, as the crow flies. Next Saturday will be maintenance day for H’s fields.</div></div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8MFySIqF4l7X6B6nc3we-s9V-kSq28ecHAXQSc3zxswhZs-gq4lyvQSHWz-APYaOVYZqIZt8-aFx3YuzMMbHXIJF-EU_l6rfC2GpDAqQtApc4wuy4-19F4gm8wxF4J382JMWY9aIX8jn/s1600-h/Field+Maint+Pan-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="87" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8MFySIqF4l7X6B6nc3we-s9V-kSq28ecHAXQSc3zxswhZs-gq4lyvQSHWz-APYaOVYZqIZt8-aFx3YuzMMbHXIJF-EU_l6rfC2GpDAqQtApc4wuy4-19F4gm8wxF4J382JMWY9aIX8jn/s400/Field+Maint+Pan-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>The field had seen better days.</em></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkBlIWmBTUMco-2_2sqsNNjvqsnSWSYrFBL4O45Koppq5IHiPSu0C8hY1M1Qiy6PeNCptE50e_gzx1n_7YBy2c0GaXWDWDVXaD4aJC4GeFwRsNelDuv8upul-IvSbs_LSPUmfqP7OPT_l/s1600-h/IMG_2372-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkBlIWmBTUMco-2_2sqsNNjvqsnSWSYrFBL4O45Koppq5IHiPSu0C8hY1M1Qiy6PeNCptE50e_gzx1n_7YBy2c0GaXWDWDVXaD4aJC4GeFwRsNelDuv8upul-IvSbs_LSPUmfqP7OPT_l/s200/IMG_2372-sm.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The fields that K’s team plays on are showing their age. The league was formed about 55 years ago! One of the infields needed a total makeover. Most of the volunteers worked on removing dead grass, leveling the ground, and spreading fresh clay. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT7LufnDK6NR7gHC9gXPpK4f6d7AJ47nFtLx9ITtB9RgkSbFZJWgAVc5wdxDqC0RG7x19eseQ_-LTUnKeai9d2lr0xVpmgNmHWJC7H6-jsJBdjaQ62r1wcXWI9QD2dB1jF9h9_wErnvT7/s1600-h/IMG_2367-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT7LufnDK6NR7gHC9gXPpK4f6d7AJ47nFtLx9ITtB9RgkSbFZJWgAVc5wdxDqC0RG7x19eseQ_-LTUnKeai9d2lr0xVpmgNmHWJC7H6-jsJBdjaQ62r1wcXWI9QD2dB1jF9h9_wErnvT7/s200/IMG_2367-sm.jpg" width="200" /></a>Somehow I was recruited to repair the rotting walls of the combination equipment room and scorekeepers booth. I don’t mind that kind of work, though. I just hope they didn’t expect a thing of beauty and a joy forever.</div></div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><em>The two-story scorekeepers booth.</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><em>Lots of rotten wood under the pealing </em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><em>paint of that facing wall.</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">During our lunch break, we picked up the boys’ eight-year-old cousin for a play date. While I helped to finish repairing the walls, the three kids chased each other around the empty fields. All of us were pretty worn out by the time we got home.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvBF6RBNS-220ybxXijeL-YL52M0IoKRmNCmDIwBvdo_YYbEIF2albvlAdLJ4XEfPw4K4-wD1KywOCzadW-1Lw96C3K6Lv240uRgsT1nBVBiCWCymQAYgpG57v6-cbUw_g40pC-BPNwB1l/s1600-h/IMG_2374-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvBF6RBNS-220ybxXijeL-YL52M0IoKRmNCmDIwBvdo_YYbEIF2albvlAdLJ4XEfPw4K4-wD1KywOCzadW-1Lw96C3K6Lv240uRgsT1nBVBiCWCymQAYgpG57v6-cbUw_g40pC-BPNwB1l/s200/IMG_2374-sm.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><em>The boys, their cousin, and a </em><em>neighbor </em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><em>friend playing video </em><em>games after a long</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><em>day of baseball and field maintenance..</em></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-67759315473894989932010-02-16T22:33:00.000-08:002010-02-16T22:49:35.850-08:00Early Spring Luffing<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokjlGqv8PGQz4EaCEQK0K5hutwN7_yahs0wsinqkIIuXzCi2vd8jVIUqkrz-LOQPZAnxoYNObmbwfFL39XQ_HduhM43VRU-43TeiizePBiaYNtNHAacvSz6cTvqLmX-MJSSLnxavw5iTf/s1600-h/sIMG_2337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokjlGqv8PGQz4EaCEQK0K5hutwN7_yahs0wsinqkIIuXzCi2vd8jVIUqkrz-LOQPZAnxoYNObmbwfFL39XQ_HduhM43VRU-43TeiizePBiaYNtNHAacvSz6cTvqLmX-MJSSLnxavw5iTf/s200/sIMG_2337.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">T</span>here’s still more than a month before the vernal equinox, but around Dave’s home it looks like Spring has already sprung. After weeks of nothing but cold, clouds and rain, last weekend was clear and warm. Thankfully it was also a three-day weekend. The kids and I had Monday off from school and work for President’s Day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnszm64uhkdEhwU0pIiojkWsOeczpUkky-GxIRzo3LTlXKiaJ0vTLv3oA5Sn0wp1EAEafxUxVjGQRBoJvSH33H-QccxhnA5yaIlLzdf_mjIawUMRtk051ILsS7xB92CVbNBm8TXKxloTd/s1600-h/20100213+H+Baseball+Practice-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSnszm64uhkdEhwU0pIiojkWsOeczpUkky-GxIRzo3LTlXKiaJ0vTLv3oA5Sn0wp1EAEafxUxVjGQRBoJvSH33H-QccxhnA5yaIlLzdf_mjIawUMRtk051ILsS7xB92CVbNBm8TXKxloTd/s200/20100213+H+Baseball+Practice-sm.jpg" width="200" /></a>H had his first baseball practice early Saturday – at 8am, a bit too early on a weekend for me. I prefer to sleep in. Instead, we had to get up as though it was a school day, and in the rush I forgot my camera. This photo was taken with my cell phone, which I poked through the fence for an unobstructed picture. Sorry about the angle.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Being so nice out, we spent much of the weekend outdoors. H & K found a lot more other kids around to play with, probably because everyone was so sick of being couped up indoors. While the kids played, I pressure washed a few years of dirt and mold off the front steps of the house, and gave the car a thorough wash, inside and out.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga14rqFTTUeYH3S3so9VQ-A3snQ0L-f_yep1O_-l4zyfKpLagzn09zwlPQ7T9m3KcTUJ25ltoNgoJWVyculfn4qOgao6xTEkvhwsLaGgsJpNARoGEm_aCgSEkKRCCNb0tttGlprz0kHYi6/s1600-h/sIMG_2339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga14rqFTTUeYH3S3so9VQ-A3snQ0L-f_yep1O_-l4zyfKpLagzn09zwlPQ7T9m3KcTUJ25ltoNgoJWVyculfn4qOgao6xTEkvhwsLaGgsJpNARoGEm_aCgSEkKRCCNb0tttGlprz0kHYi6/s200/sIMG_2339.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWjcRoLcmCMsFUkSjU1RKIh8n_KioO5yvkoNdMzeg-jiJClU84wj2JblEKAic7qgrnhJsNVyPvRKxlxCbI_mT8ZHeOG5P_91ODg8RdxxCIsTavJhvYNsWThBiPG0AsSPcIspur0D6gTzX/s1600-h/sIMG_2340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWjcRoLcmCMsFUkSjU1RKIh8n_KioO5yvkoNdMzeg-jiJClU84wj2JblEKAic7qgrnhJsNVyPvRKxlxCbI_mT8ZHeOG5P_91ODg8RdxxCIsTavJhvYNsWThBiPG0AsSPcIspur0D6gTzX/s200/sIMG_2340.jpg" width="190" /></a>We also explored and had a picnic dinner in a nearby park. We had such a good time that we lost track of it (time, that is) and dusk fell before we made it back to the car. H said it was kind of spooky.<br />
<br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: right;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>A carved stump</em></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: right;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>in the park</em></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID5UBDuWNLYUxteGrTQB9hd-FnDkTsuUfTFyCXShiWbOXJWhtE65RdXotpoBITluerEHlUGpoXu7wWotWHkfiGpGIdJOoGGT3U6TVJzbgLFzPgNhRoQhwAkCIQj4mZ73zhWtt2MAZ3sGw/s1600-h/sIMG_2341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjID5UBDuWNLYUxteGrTQB9hd-FnDkTsuUfTFyCXShiWbOXJWhtE65RdXotpoBITluerEHlUGpoXu7wWotWHkfiGpGIdJOoGGT3U6TVJzbgLFzPgNhRoQhwAkCIQj4mZ73zhWtt2MAZ3sGw/s200/sIMG_2341.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Lots of water thanks<br />
to the recent rains</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08gokXuX9rivH8tAryZHVHysEgIbk1IyS4notIvkO1T5fNHbJD48LZtqfd1wYDGqQ9ppitiAU9OIKMi5EKi9ho7SaMmrBOEhGw5ALoj6MvPGJOKvrY6DkklkyVPVCRsaWtOSI_psBjqvF/s1600-h/sIMG_2342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08gokXuX9rivH8tAryZHVHysEgIbk1IyS4notIvkO1T5fNHbJD48LZtqfd1wYDGqQ9ppitiAU9OIKMi5EKi9ho7SaMmrBOEhGw5ALoj6MvPGJOKvrY6DkklkyVPVCRsaWtOSI_psBjqvF/s200/sIMG_2342.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSW8UDbuCD8khQejT9RVuXufL9zPsfGOgf5OuioMDFHP3W8sUHI_oWaY_zET0n4qJRqWKmmnZ3uf80RzKjaZPsO_TcPCIhWqMsSQ9xeTZrW4htD5vZaQ3MmN_ngwQlBXzzUOdywwZBwZ8/s1600-h/sIMG_2344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSW8UDbuCD8khQejT9RVuXufL9zPsfGOgf5OuioMDFHP3W8sUHI_oWaY_zET0n4qJRqWKmmnZ3uf80RzKjaZPsO_TcPCIhWqMsSQ9xeTZrW4htD5vZaQ3MmN_ngwQlBXzzUOdywwZBwZ8/s200/sIMG_2344.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Something fowl in the water</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This little taste of good weather makes me yearn for Spring.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">By the way, I’ve decided to continue writing about the kids, but not on a daily basis like I was before – at least not for a while. Events this last month have kind of taken the wind out of my blogging sail, so for now I’m going to luff it and hope to find inspiration again.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: right;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfQYaxP2ugL_KeECEFhTk23SqdYWigmMtdAnIYwV_VHOyzTmt7epxctqbrM_W5bD0NgiBvLN34HnrOGXJvkS7ag6mXchD6DZF6yVdNeGVhOgy097W_n8ei1iDKWOpPCwxAEKSo8LTwcaG/s1600-h/sIMG_2348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfQYaxP2ugL_KeECEFhTk23SqdYWigmMtdAnIYwV_VHOyzTmt7epxctqbrM_W5bD0NgiBvLN34HnrOGXJvkS7ag6mXchD6DZF6yVdNeGVhOgy097W_n8ei1iDKWOpPCwxAEKSo8LTwcaG/s200/sIMG_2348.jpg" width="200" /></a><em>Sliver moon hanging<br />
over the spooky park</em></div></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-7772254216677229032010-02-11T22:24:00.000-08:002010-02-11T22:33:33.284-08:00Super Hockey Wine Bowl<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl86gq2hNRSSlgj9BDKVkzdC5iyZe25-Yzt5HAxDxDsBfJGVEkvqF68I__DyiSooEFCk-_IEdOpAzWUeBJlaah9DE1-f1G2TAfCdtq53VE4ADD6QXH2VJJKVPP0WDU84of6m4XvuAxhk6L/s1600-h/Super+Brees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl86gq2hNRSSlgj9BDKVkzdC5iyZe25-Yzt5HAxDxDsBfJGVEkvqF68I__DyiSooEFCk-_IEdOpAzWUeBJlaah9DE1-f1G2TAfCdtq53VE4ADD6QXH2VJJKVPP0WDU84of6m4XvuAxhk6L/s200/Super+Brees.jpg" width="190" /></a><span class="dropcap">L</span>ike many other folks, last Sunday afternoon the boys and I went to a Super Bowl party. Two parties, actually. I had planned to go skiing since I’m such a big football fan, but the suckiness of the prior two days caused me to cancel out of that trip. As it turned out, if I had to watch football instead of ski, this was the game to see. The underdog New Orleans Saints came from behind in the second half for quite an exciting win.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My friend, Tracy, threw a party at her house and we stopped by there first. Then we headed back to Dave’s Home where a neighbor threw another party. While the adults drank, talked and watched the game on TV, the kids mostly stayed outside. When I checked on them during the second party, the older kids (seven and up) were playing street hockey instead of football. Any chance to play makes them happy. Makes me happy, too!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ta29t9qd5M64fKNSiZAkXIF0WaU_QXVjsWV6_V6QW62IZqANrwAQ0uNmRPmTIANFsTAcGtEHVOUd0JNlFyaNLUIaxb-IlgP7izHFzoqaYTmlOEyOg-Z_DIcRzxsT9d66PAj17QIaCdAa/s1600-h/20100207+Hocky+Bowl+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ta29t9qd5M64fKNSiZAkXIF0WaU_QXVjsWV6_V6QW62IZqANrwAQ0uNmRPmTIANFsTAcGtEHVOUd0JNlFyaNLUIaxb-IlgP7izHFzoqaYTmlOEyOg-Z_DIcRzxsT9d66PAj17QIaCdAa/s320/20100207+Hocky+Bowl+small.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fGk5FFH7ZueP5DmAt3Bkmds30K51PCrOAiC-43QFr-cJZ4VADgNQtrgSQAp2n93lVsV4KGA5iD2QUnh01Ic_9okc8aoE2Y1ljX3vwYrXbqXnwNLVhnWtOeW9hKIPwrUSwAy9nYEBsxTI/s1600-h/20100207+Hockey+Bowl-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7fGk5FFH7ZueP5DmAt3Bkmds30K51PCrOAiC-43QFr-cJZ4VADgNQtrgSQAp2n93lVsV4KGA5iD2QUnh01Ic_9okc8aoE2Y1ljX3vwYrXbqXnwNLVhnWtOeW9hKIPwrUSwAy9nYEBsxTI/s200/20100207+Hockey+Bowl-2.jpg" width="200" /></a>Meanwhile, inside the house the younger kids were having a lot of fun, also. Typical five-year-old stuff. You know, boys wrestling each other. Boys wrestling a girl. The girl pinning the boys. The girl’s parents cheering her on. Typical stuff.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhin4WvzKCwk07RsnOYNfap2ZiPzyFW32gWLgJ1UIK0SBPXbJvgvE7GA6DqnoJZCGpViEhWEkBIHlsCJLAergzqoBL4k8DaP-AEKRR_8rioFcm0C4znmceiXt6hSDguS8rNBqq_1-Pu8niV/s1600-h/20100207+%24%24+Winner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhin4WvzKCwk07RsnOYNfap2ZiPzyFW32gWLgJ1UIK0SBPXbJvgvE7GA6DqnoJZCGpViEhWEkBIHlsCJLAergzqoBL4k8DaP-AEKRR_8rioFcm0C4znmceiXt6hSDguS8rNBqq_1-Pu8niV/s200/20100207+%24%24+Winner.jpg" width="141" /></a>Back in the adult party world, there were at least two different football betting pools going on. There were probably more, but I’m not into gambling and so didn’t pay close attention. Except that one of the pools was for wine rather than money. Contribute one bottle and you get six squares. Contribute two bottles and you get twelve squares. <strong><em>Twelve</em></strong> squares! Each square an opportunity to win lots more wine than you contributed, depending on the score of the game at the end of each quarter. I went all in with two bottles.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Like I said, I don’t gamble very much and rarely win when I do – which is why I don’t. Guess who won the fourth quarter wine pool?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio9hyphenhyphen24bQhGwekJlj6PRYL80HqmnPAz4Hza0KVGPBg8I8WTcvo2Hw6HPLjaiZddK7mm1VSilCsfeypoJ5IgBRKo77in_4fL8m-R5CKC5O32hP_2Ka2lBYV-6o9MlcyAvTZh4GNLRa-YIfm/s1600-h/20100207+Wine+Winner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio9hyphenhyphen24bQhGwekJlj6PRYL80HqmnPAz4Hza0KVGPBg8I8WTcvo2Hw6HPLjaiZddK7mm1VSilCsfeypoJ5IgBRKo77in_4fL8m-R5CKC5O32hP_2Ka2lBYV-6o9MlcyAvTZh4GNLRa-YIfm/s320/20100207+Wine+Winner.jpg" /></a></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-90505213878043451202010-02-10T21:47:00.000-08:002010-02-10T21:56:36.589-08:00Baseball Team Meetings<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZ0frv8zRTVC9Cfl6efsf1KRRd-v0nkBK_dHtpcdnxz8E2rJCStKbGNSwnT2GLcGiYjY0JU_N_mckH9PKGZcb2oxecK8aSj_rldxjr56VmiZ5ya4jnqHLfQbJ793_6IhxjV9QHS76EnOa/s1600-h/LL-Bball.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZ0frv8zRTVC9Cfl6efsf1KRRd-v0nkBK_dHtpcdnxz8E2rJCStKbGNSwnT2GLcGiYjY0JU_N_mckH9PKGZcb2oxecK8aSj_rldxjr56VmiZ5ya4jnqHLfQbJ793_6IhxjV9QHS76EnOa/s200/LL-Bball.gif" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">Y</span>esterday and today we went to Little League baseball team meetings. Last night was for K’s team. He’s on the Farm Division Giants. And tonight was for H’s team, the AAA Division (or Minor A) Yankees. All right, both coasts are covered.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We met the team managers, and the coaches that had already volunteered, and met most of the kids and their parents. Getting parents to volunteer was a big part of these meetings. Each team needs a bevy helpers, including backup coaches, umpires, scorekeepers, a safety parent, and a team reporter, as well as folks to cover snack shack and fund raising duties.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Back when P was in middle school he played Little League baseball, too, and I volunteered to umpire. After three years behind the plate, I decided to volunteer for something else this time around. I signed up for scorekeeper and team reporter. The team reporter writes a short article about each game and submits it via computer to the local newspaper. I can do that, I think.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">One of my biggest concerns when signing the boys up for baseball was how I’d get them to all their games and practices. At these meetings I found out their practice schedule, at least for the first month or two, and it seems doable. H’s team practices twice a week; Saturday morning and Tuesday evening at 6pm. K’s team also practices twice a week, except his weeknight is Wednesday, which unfortunately conflicts with almighty therapy. His team manager was cool with K coming one day a week rather than two, though, thinking that the practice schedule would likely change anyway once games start in March.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmPj-FApZS5p0buUaOgraP0hj2-EFDZXsYB42VoYQPxscR1N7MysxcTNE3XwDObTHgQsh3OGeynpCWQeBUZwOZRF3SNERJ8M9zXyLqkcZz9XH4HPpwbvXlUpNdDcJ6UN1ws9w2OzValHI/s1600-h/pizza-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmPj-FApZS5p0buUaOgraP0hj2-EFDZXsYB42VoYQPxscR1N7MysxcTNE3XwDObTHgQsh3OGeynpCWQeBUZwOZRF3SNERJ8M9zXyLqkcZz9XH4HPpwbvXlUpNdDcJ6UN1ws9w2OzValHI/s320/pizza-6.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuhKbpz__CGe4R9kGJ6oGRAuBbStqYaeYiubEa-j63hHr55CAq260StqawPjgHoyN_g7_bLvS1XUaTf4aystRd2aR7WW8eUskuNarJ0z3Q0GZjFIrUKC-CvDUYGOcZS2vLWw3KSQp2AEn/s1600-h/pizza-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuhKbpz__CGe4R9kGJ6oGRAuBbStqYaeYiubEa-j63hHr55CAq260StqawPjgHoyN_g7_bLvS1XUaTf4aystRd2aR7WW8eUskuNarJ0z3Q0GZjFIrUKC-CvDUYGOcZS2vLWw3KSQp2AEn/s320/pizza-2.jpg" /></a>Both team meetings were held at pizza restaurants. After two straight days of it the boys and I are totally pizza’d out.<br />
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Little K says he doesn’t even want to see another pizza – for at least a couple of days. Hey, it’s pizza, a kid’s favorite food!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMqFsgyCvB9xCAJWks4kfCoeN7lcB91OseQILaLH0sQlBaMiGEZ6dr0VCWqMU3samspEtf4avST6Qh4ZOxvWot4GwGlKti3RkTtrMs6sK1qvpPHe-Vzk1VZhGN49RP574d4cb5AtLYUUo/s1600-h/pizza-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMqFsgyCvB9xCAJWks4kfCoeN7lcB91OseQILaLH0sQlBaMiGEZ6dr0VCWqMU3samspEtf4avST6Qh4ZOxvWot4GwGlKti3RkTtrMs6sK1qvpPHe-Vzk1VZhGN49RP574d4cb5AtLYUUo/s320/pizza-8.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tn4qHR2pt9poePCT1s3S5TItsAOLUBGg-us6rLNbkLvr_GRl84lAFyGkjIBwIS8wRi9waWGqi8fjtEKVTL4QHPvs29y1J3Xgl6OsNnPVrs2X-wvDy1RUjiPt0Itoagb9c0lhTFq9Q_Nx/s1600-h/pizza-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8tn4qHR2pt9poePCT1s3S5TItsAOLUBGg-us6rLNbkLvr_GRl84lAFyGkjIBwIS8wRi9waWGqi8fjtEKVTL4QHPvs29y1J3Xgl6OsNnPVrs2X-wvDy1RUjiPt0Itoagb9c0lhTFq9Q_Nx/s320/pizza-7.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_lEdh_BWZBWRH3KgZ9q4-Gus7HpnYWZeG7W3nlrRpC7gZMeFNtWtEdkvMh-txopbQgY2iWBggCT1llBxNCWof5gaqpZ8xILwrtHxcKI34XXyuTlehZubPJluv2EAudh1ZNCJdScbeX3n/s1600-h/pizza-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_lEdh_BWZBWRH3KgZ9q4-Gus7HpnYWZeG7W3nlrRpC7gZMeFNtWtEdkvMh-txopbQgY2iWBggCT1llBxNCWof5gaqpZ8xILwrtHxcKI34XXyuTlehZubPJluv2EAudh1ZNCJdScbeX3n/s320/pizza-5.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNtv6-qJyhy-h__tBx_ZNJSSU_tBDmn9Id-Rcy1UZestUMbqrz21XWUS0KoiV66ftZYHyjXYtAWNRa00cwY_XKOGiz12dIXY_VhX07R9ipHCmgzSYiXPgL-ZavoD8xOC2DUYgCQirthdV/s1600-h/pizza-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNtv6-qJyhy-h__tBx_ZNJSSU_tBDmn9Id-Rcy1UZestUMbqrz21XWUS0KoiV66ftZYHyjXYtAWNRa00cwY_XKOGiz12dIXY_VhX07R9ipHCmgzSYiXPgL-ZavoD8xOC2DUYgCQirthdV/s320/pizza-4.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL40gIchRlLTItF2IrbjQZZw_0K9c_qU7E-lwXGQthtvMB0qqSk9HyqpvtwISPqUd7KKm5KPXddBNUWrng2Ep3OPEw1Cs_HNB6COlYQ59-61kef79OXA-9BYb6FNQJt-jXQFGzHuSNKLu/s1600-h/pizza-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZL40gIchRlLTItF2IrbjQZZw_0K9c_qU7E-lwXGQthtvMB0qqSk9HyqpvtwISPqUd7KKm5KPXddBNUWrng2Ep3OPEw1Cs_HNB6COlYQ59-61kef79OXA-9BYb6FNQJt-jXQFGzHuSNKLu/s320/pizza-3.jpg" /></a></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-9631520933413386282010-02-09T07:00:00.000-08:002010-02-09T07:00:00.674-08:00Moving the Litter Box…Finally<span class="dropcap">E</span>ver since we adopted the kittens, Mac & Cheesy, their litter box has been in my bedroom. It got there because the kittens were confined to my bedroom at first to help them get accustomed to the smells and sounds of their new home. However, when the kittens were freed to roam and ravage the entire house, I couldn’t think of a suitable place to move their poop box. It needed to be a place they could always access, and yet a place that was as inconspicuous as possible as well, to hide both sight and smell.<br />
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My indecision led to the box staying put in my bedroom, and to goodness knows how many hours of lost sleep. You see, Mac & Cheesy like to hang around the potty at night and use it every couple of hours. They’re not quiet about it, either. I mentioned in a past post how they fling so much litter that I had to buy an enclosed box to contain it.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHq1ABvLqO5NJ1KdqNEdIV93g1z7E-nl0BdcD_38mrAHLQ0Tee-kFeAqxOIKRCScpT8m678VPdWV2SpwN0PefiGU5SXp3OLuw2uBuNCjdia7TnzqPTQL6auQJz2VXV2D3JFEpY3zZ40tD8/s1600-h/20100207+Catbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHq1ABvLqO5NJ1KdqNEdIV93g1z7E-nl0BdcD_38mrAHLQ0Tee-kFeAqxOIKRCScpT8m678VPdWV2SpwN0PefiGU5SXp3OLuw2uBuNCjdia7TnzqPTQL6auQJz2VXV2D3JFEpY3zZ40tD8/s200/20100207+Catbox.jpg" width="200" /></a>So, one good thing that happened over the weekend is that we finally moved the kitty litter box into a cabinet on the lower most level of the house – far, far away from me and my bed. I also installed a bathroom ventilation fan in the cabinet and connected it to the home automation system. Now, when the cats do their business, a motion sensor automatically turns on the ventilation fan for a few minutes, sucking the smell out of the house. The fan is super quiet, too. I picked it out from Home Depot’s bathroom fan lineup based mostly on its sound rating.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>So far the whole setup has been working well, and the kittens have adjusted to their toilet’s new location without a hiccup -- or any other improperly placed excretion. The only improvement I really want to make is to replace the existing cabinet doors with something that has a hole in it so the doors can remain closed except during cleaning. Right now I have to keep one of the cabinet doors open so that the cats can get in.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-49989016840542221742010-02-08T22:56:00.000-08:002010-02-08T22:58:33.968-08:00Three Day Update<span class="dropcap">S</span>orry for the lapse in blog posts, folks. Basically Friday and Saturday sucked so much that I didn’t feel like writing. Even now I don’t know what I want to say, especially since one of the main suckages remains unresolved. All I will say for now is that it involves P, and that he’s not dead.<br />
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Another feel-bad issue keeping me from writing kind of sprung from the former. Frankly, up until recently it’s felt right to write about the good things going on with my foster kids, and even alright to write about some of the tougher things that go on. But it gets uncomfortable when things really go south. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this lately, and it’s led me to wonder whether it’s really OK to write about these kids at all. What if they read this blog one day? Others may not know who they are, but they’ll recognize themselves even with blurred out faces, won’t they?<br />
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I need to think about this some more, and to re-read my past blog entries with this concern in mind. In the meantime I’ll write about some benign goings on like the kittens and Super Bowl parties.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-49026539437665096582010-02-04T23:16:00.000-08:002010-02-04T23:19:40.285-08:00Lawyer, Therapy and Hiding Homework<span class="dropcap">Y</span>esterday I met with an attorney about dissolving my legal guardianship of P. I’ve been concerned that his behavior of late poses a serious liability risk to me, and I’ve got absolutely no control over him. In the past week two different social worker supervisors have warned me about this, and recommended that I consult an attorney. I hate doing this, but what choice do I have? I told P that I was worried about this before his latest bounce in and out of the house, and I spoke to him again about it this morning. It has no influence on him.<br />
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Yesterday was also double therapy day for H & K. To keep the boys from bickering with each other, which they so love to do, they now take turns going first. While one kid is in with the therapist, I help the other with homework in the waiting room.<br />
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When it was little K’s turn to do homework, I discovered that he’s been hiding worksheet pages from me! If the teacher gives him two pages, he sometimes brings just one to the table, claiming that it’s his only homework. He got caught because back in class he turns in both pages -- one of them blank.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6TGswA36WuDqFlOqk9lMKsz7f7aJcekCf6RqarpuOuypG6RfTAFx11NKcYAl056dOtcJo8_Vgrfbis7mq1lDm-ZfEXfB14R5FAO7HcDL39Gl3NPVMdBtb8_AYe4ry67ei4ZTKLVEJbzF/s1600-h/Dickens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6TGswA36WuDqFlOqk9lMKsz7f7aJcekCf6RqarpuOuypG6RfTAFx11NKcYAl056dOtcJo8_Vgrfbis7mq1lDm-ZfEXfB14R5FAO7HcDL39Gl3NPVMdBtb8_AYe4ry67ei4ZTKLVEJbzF/s200/Dickens.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Little dickens!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So with all of this we didn’t get home yesterday until after 8pm. In a blink it was after 9pm, past bedtime and the boys were still awake. Wednesdays are tough.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Today was easier, though. As I write this the boys are upstairs sawing logs, the cats are wrestling outside my office door, and I'm watching the Groundhog Day movie in a DivX window on my computer. After posting about this movie on Tuesday, both my Dad and my brother Joe sent me online links to it. Thanks, guys!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-40910137110147380912010-02-02T22:17:00.000-08:002010-02-02T23:16:36.742-08:00Six More Weeks of Winter<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJ38VGj_aynFhrxicrxOkY9ZQwgQrE6YzjirYlB0xehGK2LS9e9qCYJNiMp7QKuYRFuVfaLvSjqPoVRsuRiHTZZrNfPt_vbKJ9uErw6TgsEYAl7Am79TnIRzapQ0QQOQnUWHBJOFbhaY3/s1600-h/Phil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="129" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJ38VGj_aynFhrxicrxOkY9ZQwgQrE6YzjirYlB0xehGK2LS9e9qCYJNiMp7QKuYRFuVfaLvSjqPoVRsuRiHTZZrNfPt_vbKJ9uErw6TgsEYAl7Am79TnIRzapQ0QQOQnUWHBJOFbhaY3/s200/Phil.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">O</span>kay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today! That’s right, Happy Groundhog’s Day, everyone! This morning the great Punxsutawney Phil, seer of seers, sage of sages, prognosticator of prognosticators, and weather prophet extraordinary, reportedly saw his shadow. That means six more weeks of winter weather, if you believe that sort of rot.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV5YoLhDIHCOu64_kMqCrjEspSlLzDV58ZE83uaHq5ee-gecbTBWtBceILCtVSAzh_pkzBel-c_Dt7zrv2nmaDsBN3AIw46Bp97Jgc9qciVwYx8-MyvIpAGIl-PI0JAFdZf8UXSmz_bT7/s1600-h/sIMG_2325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="73" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV5YoLhDIHCOu64_kMqCrjEspSlLzDV58ZE83uaHq5ee-gecbTBWtBceILCtVSAzh_pkzBel-c_Dt7zrv2nmaDsBN3AIw46Bp97Jgc9qciVwYx8-MyvIpAGIl-PI0JAFdZf8UXSmz_bT7/s200/sIMG_2325.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Cake makes six more weeks of </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>winter go down easier.</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvhrGJXrTQprnCqDrKvrf7YM-pL6TLLVTUrM-3Ksoj3YMW64wPFovM2qtPa49pvMHpRfrHf9Xf8Or4BEMILhPNbCfEJY9nqr3VeggsWdyYiAxygpYLwPdxVs54HVbDqHk5cr8GEoutL5o/s1600-h/sIMG_2322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="111" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzvhrGJXrTQprnCqDrKvrf7YM-pL6TLLVTUrM-3Ksoj3YMW64wPFovM2qtPa49pvMHpRfrHf9Xf8Or4BEMILhPNbCfEJY9nqr3VeggsWdyYiAxygpYLwPdxVs54HVbDqHk5cr8GEoutL5o/s200/sIMG_2322.jpg" width="200" /></a>Coincidentally, back at Dave’s Home, the local grocery store had a sale on single layer cakes. That’s reason enough to celebrate in my book, so we bought a cake for after our dinner feast of roast beast, leftover chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and broccoli. The potatoes were from scratch! (I felt like cooking this evening.)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UU4XpZp3C_1ekOLCun70Bk8IxQWE8t4-vDLn-5MCAgJ73dnWYrmK3dcRa9f_UgYIJAm5wajPCq44AmtawbCI8wbCeBai9HdNKqxOXNK6SqOBFSVLFGArfzxNXgH7hDNlJHsrmxbhAC2h/s1600-h/Groundhog+Day+Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UU4XpZp3C_1ekOLCun70Bk8IxQWE8t4-vDLn-5MCAgJ73dnWYrmK3dcRa9f_UgYIJAm5wajPCq44AmtawbCI8wbCeBai9HdNKqxOXNK6SqOBFSVLFGArfzxNXgH7hDNlJHsrmxbhAC2h/s200/Groundhog+Day+Movie.jpg" width="148" /></a>Seeing Phil on the news this morning made me think of another movie favorite of mine -- Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. The opening line in this post came from that movie. I don’t have it in my DVD library, yet, but I hope to some day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">P.S. We didn’t read from Stuart Little tonight because the kids took such a long time showering, but tomorrow I’ll try some of the suggestions about empathy sent in by readers. (Referring to yesterday’s post.)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gkLrxQHMryQQwrS5precKWU0uIs9q8gelR5xpyuH3mFN8tfEGeB9IdEScRL03RGguYO4-qPcbJGzrgVGv7fLUSvww19qOuyclN1J3Ze5WU9c00FaBnVkgFLD4lwEXW9HY4PDuGsocDfw/s1600-h/Phil2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1gkLrxQHMryQQwrS5precKWU0uIs9q8gelR5xpyuH3mFN8tfEGeB9IdEScRL03RGguYO4-qPcbJGzrgVGv7fLUSvww19qOuyclN1J3Ze5WU9c00FaBnVkgFLD4lwEXW9HY4PDuGsocDfw/s320/Phil2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>A mere photo fails to capture the true excitement<br />
of a large squirrel predicting the weather.</em></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-59427115827882299362010-02-01T21:10:00.000-08:002010-11-06T23:53:56.084-07:00New Bedtime Story<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9YHkxENd6boaPdK7orGtQmAqt-ZXVehhXVnFRM7BufAzefsaz5bQmaOOGu02hjad2rp89VoKtqOyFqX4hhWJRP9bh-w3T1kAQOiSlUod57-kweN0izXXKjsVRidKKzpnuJog7cxKya21/s1600-h/Stuart+LIttle+Book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9YHkxENd6boaPdK7orGtQmAqt-ZXVehhXVnFRM7BufAzefsaz5bQmaOOGu02hjad2rp89VoKtqOyFqX4hhWJRP9bh-w3T1kAQOiSlUod57-kweN0izXXKjsVRidKKzpnuJog7cxKya21/s200/Stuart+LIttle+Book.jpg" width="138" /></a><span class="dropcap">W</span>e finished reading a simplified version of The Swiss Family Robinson a while ago and started on a new book; Stuart Little by E. B. White. Each night before bed we read one chapter together. Tonight’s chapter was titled “Spring”, and in it Stuart’s good friend, Margalo the bird, finds out that a cat will be coming after her and so decides to fly away. The chapter ends after Margalo leaves, but before Stuart finds out that she's gone. (Margalo didn't tell anyone she was leaving.)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I’ve been told many times that when reading with kids it’s important to test their comprehension, so every night I start off by asking H & K to recount what happened in the last chapter, and then finish up with a question or two about the current chapter. Tonight I wondered if the kids felt sad for Stuart because he was losing his good friend, so my questions prodded in that area. Both kids remembered that Margalo and Stuart were friends, and that Margalo had flown away, but when asked what might happen in the next chapter, neither kid said that Stuart might be sad.</div><br />
I guess this is one step beyond reading comprehension. It was more of a test to see if the kids empathized with Stuart, and could foresee what would happen next. I wonder when children are supposed be able to do this?Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-77587632752219288182010-01-31T21:31:00.000-08:002010-01-31T21:37:00.579-08:00Batting Practice<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_usKuJhO_W9y1eGKC-55j0pzmqESRoE15eCM9KEaY-1OVNZIKFsAVmgv2OcdEMCEBp3qO2kDJwlpaSZvsS4YVSat01RzUbc3biaIGi7SmlGbGr2kAgTs5gKZxQRECPwCzFj5C5L1HwCwD/s1600-h/Jan31+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_usKuJhO_W9y1eGKC-55j0pzmqESRoE15eCM9KEaY-1OVNZIKFsAVmgv2OcdEMCEBp3qO2kDJwlpaSZvsS4YVSat01RzUbc3biaIGi7SmlGbGr2kAgTs5gKZxQRECPwCzFj5C5L1HwCwD/s200/Jan31+004.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">A</span>fter a yummy lunch of toasted cheese sandwiches and chicken noodle soup, I took the boys to the local batting cages to work on their swings. Twenty balls for $3.00, and they let us borrow a bat and helmets. We went over where to stand, how to grip the bat, the ready position, and the swing. I know just enough to be dangerous!<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihunR9RMHkVihyphenhyphen5hWk6gQotaWd7YeO8-lRYdF049kjx9r2gnlJ01h9PIURvYVZiebKDAIb49SGPxAztfmdXSsU6fc7wABSpmX7zXPTYaPYsepUWLVqLeay9ERpwOoX3f00JhvLbXGmyNtB/s1600-h/batting+stance.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihunR9RMHkVihyphenhyphen5hWk6gQotaWd7YeO8-lRYdF049kjx9r2gnlJ01h9PIURvYVZiebKDAIb49SGPxAztfmdXSsU6fc7wABSpmX7zXPTYaPYsepUWLVqLeay9ERpwOoX3f00JhvLbXGmyNtB/s200/batting+stance.gif" width="104" /></a>For H & K the hardest part was remembering to get into the ready position with their elbows up, hands back and bat at about a 45 degree angle. Still, both of them got in some decent cuts, and connected quite a few times.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We’ll keep at it until team practices begin. I hope their practice and game schedules will be manageable!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Some time in the next week or two I'll have to invest in some more baseball clothes and equipment for the kids. They are going to need cleats, socks, pants, and helmets. Maybe bats, too. Play It Again Sports, here I come!</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFmqS7DFUnjehMWXWlEj5QaiNVE4BAiZGK6k5Yl66XoSapdZmpq-MF1v1BuqpLLHMTucq0abZlF4qmlcQrhEjU0IcvaCWiBL7bI9PJO2n2BpF4x_jMqoIenSmoHyav9dPe_DGxlW8-_hS/s1600-h/Jan31+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFmqS7DFUnjehMWXWlEj5QaiNVE4BAiZGK6k5Yl66XoSapdZmpq-MF1v1BuqpLLHMTucq0abZlF4qmlcQrhEjU0IcvaCWiBL7bI9PJO2n2BpF4x_jMqoIenSmoHyav9dPe_DGxlW8-_hS/s200/Jan31+001.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>As we went up to bed I spotted<br />
Mac & Cheesy staring out into the dark.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>The calm before the nightly kitten storm.</em></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-47291705257167826812010-01-30T20:11:00.000-08:002010-01-30T20:11:00.180-08:00Distraction from the Daze<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYV-EBuKdcTWD1ZTmoDcSzAx81wf5QBmZhzEsB9maCcL6tMrN9N32nlUsiN8EUWnloPLB7oQYPEGKJnmmMqmxyjfPJARsxzyBm4V21J_1_ROyWBLN8iO1cwv8ExP4kOocwi9Ih3P5RY8C/s1600-h/TF+Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYV-EBuKdcTWD1ZTmoDcSzAx81wf5QBmZhzEsB9maCcL6tMrN9N32nlUsiN8EUWnloPLB7oQYPEGKJnmmMqmxyjfPJARsxzyBm4V21J_1_ROyWBLN8iO1cwv8ExP4kOocwi9Ih3P5RY8C/s200/TF+Movie.jpg" width="116" /></a><span class="dropcap">T</span>his month of ups and downs with P has left me in a real daze. I feel it the most when I’m not busy with work or taking care of the kids. I decided to treat us to a movie this evening, to entertain the kids and distract me from my dazed thoughts. I know that my head will clear given a little time.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The unanimous choice of flick was “The Tooth Fairy”, and a good choice it was. It had lots of slapstick for the kids, and just enough plot to keep me from thinking about P. Plus we had popcorn, soda and gummy bear candy. Real feel good food.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Maybe I'll stay up late tonight and watch the Australian Open men's singles finals -- live. It has the makings of a great match, pitting Roger Federer against Andy Murray.</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-52307816600096016852010-01-30T16:21:00.000-08:002010-01-30T19:45:25.627-08:00Good News<span class="dropcap">I</span>t was little K’s turn on the baseball field this morning. His tryouts were just like his big brother’s, except the speed of the balls was a bit slower. Many of his family members came to watch him, and threw the ball around afterward.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXZH9IgkXRz35xZBTTf9j-xyIYPH1-sMmEXGuy6O6MM5n5q1699XKl6Cb9zNSte1javwYXlVipGQYAfBC4qGzLCV8z6TAiGB0GJW78FCcR1yPBrzULwC113FgJE77H0KsYbPMgH55CyrX/s1600-h/aIMG_2289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXZH9IgkXRz35xZBTTf9j-xyIYPH1-sMmEXGuy6O6MM5n5q1699XKl6Cb9zNSte1javwYXlVipGQYAfBC4qGzLCV8z6TAiGB0GJW78FCcR1yPBrzULwC113FgJE77H0KsYbPMgH55CyrX/s200/aIMG_2289.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here are a few photos.<br />
<br />
(See? Life does go on and good things can happen, if we let them.)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYm26mXGZIvpiLl-CN_C2HuMaD8ehyphenhyphenXzb9uikcMNtyGIWh69Hq_3VE2k-gh958MCHgIWKoYwHppNFQJDrwXO_Dwn4EmNj7ZB2xEGfa8rmWzmkTjQWNgebr-UhtZesS2JkwaZCWgr0JUYxr/s1600-h/aIMG_2294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYm26mXGZIvpiLl-CN_C2HuMaD8ehyphenhyphenXzb9uikcMNtyGIWh69Hq_3VE2k-gh958MCHgIWKoYwHppNFQJDrwXO_Dwn4EmNj7ZB2xEGfa8rmWzmkTjQWNgebr-UhtZesS2JkwaZCWgr0JUYxr/s200/aIMG_2294.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Fielding ground balls. K caught one</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>right in the glove on a high hop!</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaU-j3g9hPth2QwXhC4BByCqa29NE5bKMgs3MUt2lW_GJI0yDjblYuI9AiKx-Djc9AAGRqMD7MDP48HRFIPxR3wSC8zX3-Ka6E1VuUpM7k6HWjPdmajDa4_6iwS-OTtmDmxdwwNHRnBdkz/s1600-h/aIMG_2295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaU-j3g9hPth2QwXhC4BByCqa29NE5bKMgs3MUt2lW_GJI0yDjblYuI9AiKx-Djc9AAGRqMD7MDP48HRFIPxR3wSC8zX3-Ka6E1VuUpM7k6HWjPdmajDa4_6iwS-OTtmDmxdwwNHRnBdkz/s200/aIMG_2295.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib2CCgZtiWSYwyh6KjqKBOGG5FMEsrjr3WePxsPrfoiOhLI1VRjRDGXmYFzFycEffPAS6-vRXm6ECECOLTaORFQK_APq1iVIDXAJxXWr30XkSWmY6EBpdurcsMyWKbJNQ8uWo6CnJukEr/s1600-h/aIMG_2300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib2CCgZtiWSYwyh6KjqKBOGG5FMEsrjr3WePxsPrfoiOhLI1VRjRDGXmYFzFycEffPAS6-vRXm6ECECOLTaORFQK_APq1iVIDXAJxXWr30XkSWmY6EBpdurcsMyWKbJNQ8uWo6CnJukEr/s320/aIMG_2300.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Going for a fly ball, but thought best to let it drop.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxRs-3_1a8T-vhvSEjYdUS04ccCsPMOxL4nDSdCOKSJmVvF39whyphenhyphenDs171sISP4KrknnIeY3fG-nKsYgS_30docO_NaCpzPsYfKxEOaRGETZgAKYgbq9UWkiv6qvyKI8ZE4lGRUPHx9HGD/s1600-h/aIMG_2304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxRs-3_1a8T-vhvSEjYdUS04ccCsPMOxL4nDSdCOKSJmVvF39whyphenhyphenDs171sISP4KrknnIeY3fG-nKsYgS_30docO_NaCpzPsYfKxEOaRGETZgAKYgbq9UWkiv6qvyKI8ZE4lGRUPHx9HGD/s200/aIMG_2304.jpg" width="173" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><em>Waiting for his turn to bat.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5__eVXPQ5DYyA6fyUBPSJSbd_ZpgP55hr2CWrpuzlMN1mM6kvES44A2_BvyR_p2sK-MsZ6cjjOWDEHKrxJbLmcljLBlb1cCoDtIPPkQEt5s1opQGllPLRBFMGqArxqwVriJYK0HbkJZX/s1600-h/aIMG_2305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5__eVXPQ5DYyA6fyUBPSJSbd_ZpgP55hr2CWrpuzlMN1mM6kvES44A2_BvyR_p2sK-MsZ6cjjOWDEHKrxJbLmcljLBlb1cCoDtIPPkQEt5s1opQGllPLRBFMGqArxqwVriJYK0HbkJZX/s200/aIMG_2305.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Big brother H watching from<br />
atop </em><em>the bleachers.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_13Gd6oObodHCIg_sh22hs77HZl3IWt0ROkObKt8Zqvsvgw1VZj7kEw5HWVeM_hOuRAqTJIZJXsHqwzcZCnlJ9CfCq2Vj8wD4oTN8_IRSZoG8F6vujkqg_Gb0tzFZyRjEjjS51NfwYq5/s1600-h/aIMG_2306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_13Gd6oObodHCIg_sh22hs77HZl3IWt0ROkObKt8Zqvsvgw1VZj7kEw5HWVeM_hOuRAqTJIZJXsHqwzcZCnlJ9CfCq2Vj8wD4oTN8_IRSZoG8F6vujkqg_Gb0tzFZyRjEjjS51NfwYq5/s320/aIMG_2306.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dlwC2CysdWAfJfYDvuu-CwTCyqfLtXda_2HyFF1OO58dUx0yva7ybGFI2y_eegmT_n39sr2L7VKtJ6aVx6Lboxb0qRZEDa1VMku3RqaBijx_FhnBske1hIGdKoHiPCa0ZXs4rmTRATUF/s1600-h/aIMG_2310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dlwC2CysdWAfJfYDvuu-CwTCyqfLtXda_2HyFF1OO58dUx0yva7ybGFI2y_eegmT_n39sr2L7VKtJ6aVx6Lboxb0qRZEDa1VMku3RqaBijx_FhnBske1hIGdKoHiPCa0ZXs4rmTRATUF/s320/aIMG_2310.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Big swing...and a miss! Maybe next time.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieSVy7EAAAArEhATLfP5LqSJ9Ae2ddF1_VXuLooGgdAmLUhg6TMDhxxqWSuuYIplGHGtpxEBbJl8hGIIbuvLk29V0rushLT7jcOigA168m3T5kTLQ9BcXHaDYOxgUXsbGHsFSQXNYMh4r/s1600-h/aIMG_2317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieSVy7EAAAArEhATLfP5LqSJ9Ae2ddF1_VXuLooGgdAmLUhg6TMDhxxqWSuuYIplGHGtpxEBbJl8hGIIbuvLk29V0rushLT7jcOigA168m3T5kTLQ9BcXHaDYOxgUXsbGHsFSQXNYMh4r/s200/aIMG_2317.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"><em>Here's the boy's mom<br />
having a catch.</em></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-22505910095684282432010-01-30T16:13:00.000-08:002010-01-30T19:53:16.303-08:00Bad News<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><img imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" border="0" height="198" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHanov89rPQ0u1ZV1p9wib4G4RHKe4C880YDlhad-o8JLQp-U4I3s_w7h_0Jb7kHXI0LudTGrAZbanhp-5qHHFl_wq8C_i8IS-k5kIF6MKqb1dutOIxrCp5f2V39V2clogYLkzkSXblaG/s200/Sad+Face.jpg" width="200" /><span class="dropcap">L</span>ess than 24 hours after his return, P is gone again. I was too stunned to write about it last night.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Friday morning I drove him to school and we checked in with the registrar to get his class schedule. We were on time and everything seemed fine. Then, on my way home from work, I received an automated call from the school attendance office saying P had missed every class that day. How could that be?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">When I got home P wasn’t there. All his stuff was still there, though. So, like the many other times this happened, I called his cell phone and every other number I knew trying to find out where he was. Around 9pm he finally answered my calls. He said that he couldn’t do it; couldn’t go to that school again and had to be with his family. He said he wasn’t coming back.</div><br />
My emotions are still unsettled over this, but life has to go on.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-83525147178971975032010-01-28T21:42:00.000-08:002010-01-28T21:42:59.170-08:00Will He Stay?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwCzDMjmfCVD_3MbHJEZRD0qh9WUjjsVjVMQ_RVHSYo1mXZ-3sEz43dn6X2GhATIz0UxmNU4O3SiXpcXgPquxNIabKGlt8XXwogsLeDMbgrLU5mslawU6JRRSMdfCInCci2K9KxqH0wFUe/s1600-h/ap-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwCzDMjmfCVD_3MbHJEZRD0qh9WUjjsVjVMQ_RVHSYo1mXZ-3sEz43dn6X2GhATIz0UxmNU4O3SiXpcXgPquxNIabKGlt8XXwogsLeDMbgrLU5mslawU6JRRSMdfCInCci2K9KxqH0wFUe/s200/ap-37.jpg" width="150" /></a><span class="dropcap">J</span>ust when I had all but given up on P, he calls me and says that he wants to come home – for real, this time. A couple of hours later P and his stuff were back in his room at Dave’s Home.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">On the ride home I suggested to P that we forget about past mess ups and concentrate on the future. Pretend like we first met. So we exchanged greetings and shook hands. P seemed to like this idea. It bothers him when people use his past behavior to judge his future.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Too bad that’s how the real world works. But maybe I can stave off part of the real world just long enough for P to get back on track. If he stays, that is. Only time will tell.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPZr3DJe8up706MV4O7gm0AtaJ1Odx4gpAKSpoOSKtt-IoJKwRSrmkGfSFBDAr4JzgW5YksG1gHAFaMrwBJthVLwoV0JvIrMzVM8i5FLtVbKgJD_65NtwEq_BzrCBih7geMoU237Aghfp/s1600-h/ap-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPZr3DJe8up706MV4O7gm0AtaJ1Odx4gpAKSpoOSKtt-IoJKwRSrmkGfSFBDAr4JzgW5YksG1gHAFaMrwBJthVLwoV0JvIrMzVM8i5FLtVbKgJD_65NtwEq_BzrCBih7geMoU237Aghfp/s320/ap-36.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-31042672627627171382010-01-27T22:12:00.001-08:002010-01-27T22:22:54.201-08:00Double Dose of Therapy<span class="dropcap">R</span>ecently K started going to therapy at the same place and on the same day as H, one right after the other. The up side of this arrangement is that we're only in the therapist's office one evening a week. The down side is that we’re in the therapist’s office for two hours on that evening. That makes for a very long day.<br />
<br />
Today was that day, and it was looonnng indeed. That's it for me today. Good night!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-43910009044424739142010-01-26T21:43:00.000-08:002010-01-26T21:45:35.296-08:00Blue About P<span class="dropcap">I</span> spoke with several social workers today about P, but they didn’t have any good news or ideas. So I’ve been looking through old photos of him and thinking about his present unsettled situation. It makes me sad. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qLUQ1h_WTuqJn-xDnKq762LLwqVQcwgm8QHJqUyLOkCH39cdmSGXt1AFDkEoNMf78SISO0mgXf3rxotVOv59WYmA1L5D_Tq0bPGnFlwd53vvtRuIx7bV7RM6-BUAlFQXlinCX7WFer11/s1600-h/ap-05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qLUQ1h_WTuqJn-xDnKq762LLwqVQcwgm8QHJqUyLOkCH39cdmSGXt1AFDkEoNMf78SISO0mgXf3rxotVOv59WYmA1L5D_Tq0bPGnFlwd53vvtRuIx7bV7RM6-BUAlFQXlinCX7WFer11/s200/ap-05.jpg" width="200" /></a>It’s hard for me to comprehend how the kid in these photos got to where he is now. Here are some of those photos.<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFIyKZUhcx_Wd5m6HysffZfvXF2drKlcM9KEF8MOkKQ4Wmcb4SBWYYIHGusgggw0tlhj-4O5yoDKq6xF-4B11VkjE3FHsEKbcadBrfvSrKaPxAT-oJ6BvPPV-11HAT6Mn97qar17tmjT9/s1600-h/ap-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFIyKZUhcx_Wd5m6HysffZfvXF2drKlcM9KEF8MOkKQ4Wmcb4SBWYYIHGusgggw0tlhj-4O5yoDKq6xF-4B11VkjE3FHsEKbcadBrfvSrKaPxAT-oJ6BvPPV-11HAT6Mn97qar17tmjT9/s200/ap-11.jpg" width="163" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Burney Falls</em><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>11th birthday.</em><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>His first at Dave's Home</em><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Rainie Falls on the Rogue River in Oregon</em><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Top of Nevada Falls in Yosemite</em><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>12th or 13th birthday...</em><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>I can't remember now.</em><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Santa Cruz</em><br />
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</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-28246944250000260152010-01-25T21:39:00.000-08:002010-01-25T21:44:31.273-08:00Not Tennis Again!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.australianopen.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="83" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHvpogaCEMqt44NsuTYXBZu7P7D0IfFgJyBxwlKkcLwzhx2K_c06EaDErPeHCdruv82kE0Z4OB1LIArEQKUbKpZ7SAli6aUB53tZ1j0a91cZjrBOjNpAEMBVsEKNaqr5cMJqtVrGeAzBi/s200/Ausie+Open.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="dropcap">W</span>e’re into the second week of the <a href="http://www.australianopen.com/" target="_blank">Australian Open</a> tennis tournament. For those non-tennis fans, this is the first of four Grand Slam tournaments played every year. The other three are the French Open (also known as Roland Garros), Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open.<br />
<br />
Grand Slam tournaments are the Super Bowls of tennis!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcFP7S-cQfB9_zx4A5vU-v3hm_HZbNgIxKmMmuXjNb4W0FRGysvyiNNsYICmU9jVXOBCCoBZyzKlkj4PDJORCTi3Bmsr8JYrNCnEOhCeHeTHZfxZYMSDMPI_SBfZjLxRRlZmrUAxxeBFn/s1600-h/20100125+Boring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcFP7S-cQfB9_zx4A5vU-v3hm_HZbNgIxKmMmuXjNb4W0FRGysvyiNNsYICmU9jVXOBCCoBZyzKlkj4PDJORCTi3Bmsr8JYrNCnEOhCeHeTHZfxZYMSDMPI_SBfZjLxRRlZmrUAxxeBFn/s200/20100125+Boring.jpg" width="200" /></a>As I am a tennis fan, I've been watching the event unfold on TV every chance I get, and the boys are sick of it. I understand their feelings. If I were not into tennis then watching a five set match that took over four hours to complete would, well, totally sucks eggs! <br />
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Too bad, so sad, kids. This is one time of year that I control the remote! Go read a book.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Poor bored K wrapped himself up like a burrito.<br />
(I guess anything is better than reading a book.)</em><br />
</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-89509760362141429992010-01-24T20:23:00.000-08:002010-01-26T21:53:42.077-08:00Back and Forth<span class="dropcap">A</span>s you may have noticed, P hasn’t been with us for the last week and a half or so. P was my eighth foster child. He came to me when he was ten, and now he’s seventeen and a half. He has been living with various family members for the better part of last year.<br />
<br />
Without going into detail, around Christmas time P said that he wanted to move back into Dave’s Home, and in fact we did move his belongings. But over the course of a few weeks he spent less and less time here, opting instead to be with his family members after school and on weekends. Last week I confronted him about his living arrangements and he basically said that he had changed his mind.<br />
<br />
I don’t think P is making a wise decision, and I have tried many times now to convince him of this. I am troubled and very frustrated by this turn of events, but all I feel that I can do is keep the lines of communication open and hope for P’s wellbeing.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>P around the time that he first moved into Dave’s Home.</em><br />
</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-31423536176189419722010-01-23T15:36:00.000-08:002010-01-23T15:42:01.109-08:00Muddy Tryouts<span class="dropcap">O</span>ur week long storm cleared just long enough for H’s baseball tryouts to finish up this morning. (Then the clouds closed in and there was a tornado warning -- very rare for this part of the country. I heard that several funnel clouds were spotted!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qctDVEYKcWd3cQRtemu9uhVZu80jUYEZLw5mmaRuEZuEzHp4-f5fS2caR5UuqgAVam6EpI0PMB1qF_LGIdjoULuc2a6ZUyvmwx-CydUl7OaKuDsVmmwUTpYn7DLgg-GRIO8qVBSb9uJ-/s1600-h/20100123+Baseball+Tryouts-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qctDVEYKcWd3cQRtemu9uhVZu80jUYEZLw5mmaRuEZuEzHp4-f5fS2caR5UuqgAVam6EpI0PMB1qF_LGIdjoULuc2a6ZUyvmwx-CydUl7OaKuDsVmmwUTpYn7DLgg-GRIO8qVBSb9uJ-/s320/20100123+Baseball+Tryouts-sm.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2ubViPK3d8UeDV8t8Ys9NdKors_s3wLdM2fwyXDEnjp7aAD-kbrm7EoOwlJABN1rPaBAuIy0hZkkZc1Ny_Yrgmdvk2sLsL0diywVYpTGA8JO-IceVn21CjtC5ZKTCD5xPcNxoB_WbTiZ/s1600-h/smIMG_2247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2ubViPK3d8UeDV8t8Ys9NdKors_s3wLdM2fwyXDEnjp7aAD-kbrm7EoOwlJABN1rPaBAuIy0hZkkZc1Ny_Yrgmdvk2sLsL0diywVYpTGA8JO-IceVn21CjtC5ZKTCD5xPcNxoB_WbTiZ/s200/smIMG_2247.jpg" width="200" /></a>As you can see, the fields were pretty soggy, but the kids didn’t seem to mind that much. The tryouts consisted of three tests. First was fielding ground balls from the shortstop position and throwing to first base. Second was fielding fly balls and throwing to second base. Third was batting and base running.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Can you see the ball in flight,<br />
heading towards H with his glove<br />
at the ready?</em><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">H did quite well with his ground balls and throwing. Of course I attribute his success (in part) to our practice a couple of days before. One of the parents in the stands even commented that he had a good arm!<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEnYLZzvJNuDOufXZtI-dJmRxfNWXLQKHxkAfa8jtbi76IygakIkpoj8wFqS-Nr0opvIXkmL5soX98en7ZUkdPQT6d-Rz5RwCIMhNxmiQ8M5ihflaKo9sRI9qyMRrXMOCPKoQZBGrO-jZ/s1600-h/smIMG_2262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEnYLZzvJNuDOufXZtI-dJmRxfNWXLQKHxkAfa8jtbi76IygakIkpoj8wFqS-Nr0opvIXkmL5soX98en7ZUkdPQT6d-Rz5RwCIMhNxmiQ8M5ihflaKo9sRI9qyMRrXMOCPKoQZBGrO-jZ/s200/smIMG_2262.jpg" width="200" /></a>Only a few of the kids fielded fly balls well. H wasn’t one of them, but he fit right in with this group. I should note that H had never really played baseball before.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatPPFA2q7-rONz1mfNU92epoBIARB_GxwYXL0zCdGgZtduuwkSRiQFpwkAhMq8CTvg-KTYYRtI07TEUnzaqhREmw5DlhaLht-DVpEhuwRD1T9gtScu-iWbpZhvH5NML3e-JRaVYqLkWMs/s1600-h/smIMG_2260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatPPFA2q7-rONz1mfNU92epoBIARB_GxwYXL0zCdGgZtduuwkSRiQFpwkAhMq8CTvg-KTYYRtI07TEUnzaqhREmw5DlhaLht-DVpEhuwRD1T9gtScu-iWbpZhvH5NML3e-JRaVYqLkWMs/s200/smIMG_2260.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>A pop-up ready to fly.</em><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pwrarR1MjLskQfMHeTbqRbp7u9-mbaU2da1wmO0h5ok5esNnS_3yMSvKVt9IOpCIRYoidz5EfXDjH43YSwq9YQbjJuy0-GSe9arR7UkCLJsoxlvMkPImGo6RD4rWJwkhU-gSitLr4aEJ/s1600-h/smIMG_2267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pwrarR1MjLskQfMHeTbqRbp7u9-mbaU2da1wmO0h5ok5esNnS_3yMSvKVt9IOpCIRYoidz5EfXDjH43YSwq9YQbjJuy0-GSe9arR7UkCLJsoxlvMkPImGo6RD4rWJwkhU-gSitLr4aEJ/s200/smIMG_2267.jpg" width="166" /></a>Batting was the toughest. It was scary because of the pitching machine and the speed of the ball, and we didn’t get to practice at all. The coaches were terrific, though, showing H how to stand and swing. With a little more coaching and practice, I think H will do just fine.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKajOAduWvkdvhHKIMUi8wInJR6VhDpzP5WqUC0OlMm1_JFnR85i-FJTAIBBFiVkrfol_Em-RsNtUgCqEwnLTube4xcFwKv2ugmlxCybyw9GBfoj122RBXGrgIzQgr2Bw8GUqCcpN2-60b/s1600-h/smIMG_2268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKajOAduWvkdvhHKIMUi8wInJR6VhDpzP5WqUC0OlMm1_JFnR85i-FJTAIBBFiVkrfol_Em-RsNtUgCqEwnLTube4xcFwKv2ugmlxCybyw9GBfoj122RBXGrgIzQgr2Bw8GUqCcpN2-60b/s320/smIMG_2268.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Elbows up and bat back!<br />
OK, maybe next time.</em><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Bottom line: He walked off the field smiling, and that’s what’s most important!<br />
</div><img height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LnnetqVLMKeg8eOo99AgEXUV8E4CPWyZwjZBuumejA2lgXrb_ZkxfzXjiRHc00jbJMFTXqyCklX4MGaom4OMMODDu0qIceWHlJvCrCdp8Vv4lQx_E7PtIdaIWH-Nq-lm1rLq-2PsqiTw/s200/smIMG_2257.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 271px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 241px; visibility: hidden;" width="89" /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipspx0-5_DtiZu42VFyY-v-aHkMOF1vElw6jVyxV_OaOwYTKbmwZ-hla7dQLSH6xHljehqoh1SQiHYEzEBHZJyWOAc4X7WpSaN2UYytM6K49omvVI2NJ8IE47AuYbP7K0THNjRvINV8p1h/s1600-h/smIMG_2254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipspx0-5_DtiZu42VFyY-v-aHkMOF1vElw6jVyxV_OaOwYTKbmwZ-hla7dQLSH6xHljehqoh1SQiHYEzEBHZJyWOAc4X7WpSaN2UYytM6K49omvVI2NJ8IE47AuYbP7K0THNjRvINV8p1h/s200/smIMG_2254.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Little K watching his brother. He gets his turn on the field next weekend.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-89924476822996361982010-01-22T22:14:00.000-08:002010-01-22T22:22:09.960-08:00Family Movie Night<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijObjYvXc8zq51_D3siZXkRpfT3cgJ_CDscis7CchvOvZQpWndp_r4Q3WwVTmQIH2HyAzDESsTpU6v8J9CBJ8Xg7AWc3Xxh260QBuvx3WZDzNIEXaOVoHxo6ByMM35r1Ly3kQEQ_CRL1_L/s1600-h/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijObjYvXc8zq51_D3siZXkRpfT3cgJ_CDscis7CchvOvZQpWndp_r4Q3WwVTmQIH2HyAzDESsTpU6v8J9CBJ8Xg7AWc3Xxh260QBuvx3WZDzNIEXaOVoHxo6ByMM35r1Ly3kQEQ_CRL1_L/s200/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-3.jpg" width="181" /></a><span class="dropcap">E</span>ven though this was a short week, so to speak (because Monday was a holiday in honor of Martin Luther King’s birthday), it seemed like a long week to me. It culminated this evening with a showing of the movie, “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” at the school. The turnout was pretty good. By the time the movie started there was very little floor space left!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1GOg4L7SV-v2o1mnd-Vqv14bYfCyvsR80uX5tt_v5ZpSRqhfzpvFH3cgGHgGqhhXFvruE3hUN7wmzMvQucGgI0qBXaX4eMYRbqkkGlMpA6JUsq_1_0XtsNad8muSUU37PISPNCEpqesZ/s1600-h/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1GOg4L7SV-v2o1mnd-Vqv14bYfCyvsR80uX5tt_v5ZpSRqhfzpvFH3cgGHgGqhhXFvruE3hUN7wmzMvQucGgI0qBXaX4eMYRbqkkGlMpA6JUsq_1_0XtsNad8muSUU37PISPNCEpqesZ/s320/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-sm.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMlqipMEAHA1mXBg1ClxUmLRZGOF6jHpGj44iq6L5u8n9HEx2z_fdnM0RWDiqkBr4CjPGiwq7M2JCuKDXrQ3k5d7XOlgKaYysTCKG6JKVjAygUrzhCaPG-Trt-ej1kxMUjaz7pt1NHBIa/s1600-h/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-2-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMlqipMEAHA1mXBg1ClxUmLRZGOF6jHpGj44iq6L5u8n9HEx2z_fdnM0RWDiqkBr4CjPGiwq7M2JCuKDXrQ3k5d7XOlgKaYysTCKG6JKVjAygUrzhCaPG-Trt-ej1kxMUjaz7pt1NHBIa/s200/20100122+Family+Movie+Night-2-sm.jpg" width="200" /></a>This event was sponsored by the Parent Teach Association (PTA), which has its hands especially full trying to keep the school operating this year in the face of so many funding cutbacks. There was no entrance fee to see the movie, but PTA volunteers were selling popcorn, drinks and school shirts. I think this year’s PTA has been doing a bang up job!<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Tomorrow morning H has baseball tryouts, and then in the afternoon the boy’s mother and sisters are coming over for a visit. (K's baseball tryouts are the following weekend.)<br />
</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-59546377579671320272010-01-21T19:59:00.000-08:002010-01-31T10:44:06.532-08:00Blackout<span class="dropcap">A</span>bout half an hour after waking up this morning the lights started flickering, and within a minute the whole house went dark. Of course I was in the bathroom finishing a shower at the time – probably the second worst place to be during a blackout. (On the potty is the first worst, in my book.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW91N-EwHvE_cDAd75P2BBnwLBypv3aecJnqOUx1ZD-6N03rgswK8Tk8HoAjTbqToWYZHxpJtHOYQDlIUjFsTupm8KCb37Zv2_SB6HhDiGo8JjYb0hOYTI3LqXF5YIxaM4rFh8xCTbQmIv/s1600-h/blackout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW91N-EwHvE_cDAd75P2BBnwLBypv3aecJnqOUx1ZD-6N03rgswK8Tk8HoAjTbqToWYZHxpJtHOYQDlIUjFsTupm8KCb37Zv2_SB6HhDiGo8JjYb0hOYTI3LqXF5YIxaM4rFh8xCTbQmIv/s200/blackout.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Did I forget to pay the power bill?</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Luckily the boys decided not to heed the first call of alarm clock Dave. I blindly hurried out of the shower, fumbling for a robe and expecting screams of terror from H & K from being left in the dark alone. Instead there were only mews from the kitties. Flashlight in hand, I found the boys still snug in their beds, blissfully unaware of what had just happened.<br />
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We were also lucky that dawn was just breaking. Within fifteen minutes there was enough light for us to eat breakfast. While we feasted on cold cereal I called the school to find out if they had power. Sure enough it was out there, too, but they said classes would still be held so I dropped off the kids like normal. (I’ve always liked that our phone lines operate on their own, separate power.)<br />
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When I got to the office I found out that power had been restored less than an hour after classes began. Just enough time to make the incident the talk of the day, and to make us reflect on how much we rely on electricity!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538477256366602556.post-60722214813880102942010-01-20T20:07:00.000-08:002010-01-21T20:22:06.035-08:00Sleepless Night and a Busy, Stormy Day<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span class="dropcap">D</span>ave pulled an all-nighter (nearly) to finish a presentation for the office today. So far 2010 has been the year for burning the candle at both ends, whether for work or play. I don’t like doing that. I’m going to cut back on some activities and try to plan a little better. Less stress is best!<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxCbGh3tHHdUEQzM_uyaOTLHAqmgXPc0dD0mtV6jEpV4Lwt5MhW0HFMij14_Swo-EjuywdOMaP9wa4bSx2sUNJDQw-YRPWev2J6xbOja1Dxfzl79-eEOMNKFAH1gKyZj-14a7TK84P-dL/s1600-h/Lightning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxCbGh3tHHdUEQzM_uyaOTLHAqmgXPc0dD0mtV6jEpV4Lwt5MhW0HFMij14_Swo-EjuywdOMaP9wa4bSx2sUNJDQw-YRPWev2J6xbOja1Dxfzl79-eEOMNKFAH1gKyZj-14a7TK84P-dL/s200/Lightning.jpg" width="174" /></a>When I did finally make it into bed last night, the cats, the kids and the storm conspired against me. First Mac & Cheesy wouldn’t settle down, running amok all over the house. Then H had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep. And then the storm threw in a little lightning on top of all the wind and rain. Thank goodness for the BART train, where I finally caught a few winks on the way in to work.<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This evening after homework I coached the boys on baseball in preparation for their upcoming Little League try-outs. (Hey, my coaching is better than nothing!) I showed them the “ready position” when fielding, how to move to the ball, and how to use both the glove and their other hand to secure a ground ball.<br />
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</div>Tomorrow maybe we’ll practice batting.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15471378515370804524noreply@blogger.com