One...two...three...JUMP!

I went over to our friends' house tonight to play with the kids while their mom teaches catechisim classes at church. They were already playing out side when I arrived, so we took advantage of the fantastic weather until dinner (chicken nuggets and tater tots) was ready.

Anna will be three years old at the end of the summer. Patrick is one year old. They would go over to this section of the yard where there was a slight hill. And by hill I mean six inches. Anna would stand at the top of this "hill" and after counting to three, she would jump off of the hill and onto the level ground at the bottom. Patrick cannot say one or two, but he would shout "THREE!" when the time came and then he too would jump. Although, he mostly just walked off the stair-sized "hill" and then ran.

Kids are funny.
Oh to be young again...

For A Special Princes...

Here is a birthday card I recently made for a three year old girl that lives in Florida and wears her "Belle" costume dress almost daily. (There is a strong Disney princess theme here...)

The outside of the card....



And here is one of the inside.
(Card rotates at top to show the inside...functional...ingenuousness.)

Now if I could just take better pictures of my work......Argh!

Rest Stop

I take Rte 47 into Champaign each day for work. Approximately 5 miles North of Mahomet there is a rest stop atop a hill with a 360 degree view of the country and ample fresh air. Here is a photo...

Intruder!

Today began just like most days begin for me: hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock and finally staggering out of bed and into the shower. I have no exceptional plans; it is just going to be another drab day at the office.

As I stepped out of the shower and began to towel off, I hear this loud, clamorous noise that sounds like maybe part of our house has just caved in. Oh. My. God. Is someone in the house?

My hair is dripping wet, I cannot see without my glasses and I am naked. NAKED!

I stand there frozen for a moment and listen for any further disturbances. I hear nothing. Following a few moments of self-reassurance, I decide it is time to investigate and perhaps if there is indeed an intruder in the house, then seeing my naked body will probably persuade him to end his criminal career...or gauge out his eyes. Now that I feel the score is a bit more even, I decide to put on my glasses and open the door.

I opened the door just " a crack" and as the cool air from the hallway hit the warm air inside the bathroom, steam gathered around it. Then, as I looked up in the bathroom mirror, I could see him looking at me. Our eyes met in the mirror.

Ah! Then I notice that I have seen this smiling man before. Well, howdy do, Mr. Lincoln.

Yeah....Jeanette has a similar portrait of Abe hanging in the hallway.

Whew! It was freaky there for a second. I hopped into my room and finally put some clothes on. Upon further inspection of the house, I could find no evidence of an intruder or any other sort of destruction.

So what was that noise? Ah...half of Jeanette's closet shelf/bar fell down. =)

Racing Stripes

Five days before Christmas, I tore up my car while watching Billy the Beagle. As I backed up, the mirror failed its clearance of the side of the garage, and it was ripped off. And the side of the tattered, dilapidated old garage? It is just fine. Not even the slightest hint of red paint on it! Oh the injustice!

As for the bottom of the bumper...well, the "landscaping" of the neighbor's flower garden (and by landscaping, I mean a concrete block that is typically the foundation of homes these days) caught it and my bumper tore off as we slid helplessly in reverse due to the ice. Why the duct tape you ask? Well, when I took the car to the body shop to get an estimate, the bumper was sagging down and the wind was blowing hard enough that in order to have the car remain "safe to drive" a man named Herc (short for Hercules...well not based on looks, but that is a separate story...) decided to put some tape on it to hold it all together. Thank you for using the bright, reflective duct tape, Herc...ghetto racing stripes for the car are just how I wanted to ring in the new year!

I picked up Lolita (yes, that is my car's name - everyone should name their car!) from the auto body shop the day after Inauguration Day, only to discover she now needed new brakes. Ugh! Finally, she is home today and she is looking and running better than ever!