Of a 'Binky' and an iPod...

Sometimes things just progress in a manner that doesn't seem strange, but when observed from a third party's point of view seem altogether comical.

...then sometimes they don't.

There's a good possibility for the following to be in either camp; funny with a chance of developmentally damaging, or normal with a good likelihood for an ironic smile.

Last night we had dinner with some friends who hadn't really seen our kids for a while. It was a bit of a gathering, with most participants being about the same age or slightly older than our kids' grandparents.
Just our two kids, a meal that they wouldn't try (Though it was more than excellent! Yum!), and after-dinner conversation that was out of their range of concern or care.

So after a little bit of their trying to be polite, my wife (as we'd planned) reached into her purse and produced our Nintendo DS for our son (5), and the iPod Touch for our daughter (nearly 2).

Neither of these choices are unheard of in our home. He is an expert at Mario Bros., and we have a couple dozen of kiddie apps on the iPod specific to her age group. Their electronic nannies gained us about another hour of adult conversation with our dinner friends.

As we wrapped up the evening, someone noted with great wonderment at how good the kids had been. We simply referenced their respective games and attempted to credit ourselves with none of the accolades.
Then someone noted that our little girl was sitting there, knowingly and deftly tapping her way through screens and games on the device, all the while with a pacifier in her mouth.

...the 'Binky' and an iPod.

To us, this is nothing.

She always has a binky. And she often has the iPod.

In fact, she's regulary referenced it as "myPod". A knowing allusion to the facts of life in our home these days - a little bit of Veruca Salt here and there.

But looking at the picture, I could see the humor along with the saddness 'what we've become'.

Yet, then again, the kids now play 'Super Mario' and are occupied coloring on the screen - as opposed to acting 'Super Crazy' and coloring on your host's wallpaper.

...I'll keep the binky and the iPod, thanks.

Breakfast

There's this beginning of day ritual that I've heard people discuss. I've seen TV commercials implying its presence. There are even words on the cereal boxes that I usually eat from late at night that try to tell me of its importance.

This mysterious meal (yes, some go so far as to call it a 'meal') is termed, "Breakfast."

I seem to remember something, long ago, to this effect. A childhood experience that faded away as I grew and went to college. Honestly, I've had my doubts until recently. I mean, Taco Bell has never corroborated the statement that Breakfast is the "most important meal of the day" - so therefore the entire institution is suspect in my opinion. ...but I suppose Taco Bell does imply by their 'fourth meal' that there is something more than lunch and dinner.

I joke about this because breakfast has been an elusive white stag for me, more so recently than ever. I always loved breakfast time, and in the days prior to my owning an alarm clock as a child the first thing every morning upon my ears was the 'tink' of Dad's spoon scooping up Frosted Flakes or Sugar Smacks (now Dad prefers things - I hesitate to call them cereals - with the word 'Fiber' or a spelled out 'One' in the name).

With kids myself now, the morning ritual that I had fully intended to get myself back into has suddenly lengthened itself into an involved system of barter and diplomacy - and all this usually before anyone in the household really wants to be awake.

And the very cause of my writing this, while also in association on deeper terms with yesterday's post, comes from my young daughter's propensity to request not 'breakfast' in the morning, but a 'nack' (thats, 'snack' in 1 year old).

I realize that 'snack' is far easier to say than 'breakfast', but between the almost two year old and our five year old I observe them and see that their experience of the mornings has already been far different than my own... and I'd much rather change that.
Sure, things will be forced to change next year with the onset of full-day kindergarten, but why wait?

...just my thoughts this morning as I take a few minutes at my office desk with a cup of coffee (yes I drink coffee now, more on that later) and a kiddie CLIF bar as my 'most important meal'.

The spiritual comparison here (morning devotions/Bible reading) is the REAL reason for this post, and that'll be something else to dwell on in times to come.

Blessings!

...

Dining Out

Recently there's been a little bit of tension in our household between my wife and I.
Nothing drastic or revolutionary, and if it weren't primarily my own fault (by previous admission) I certainly wouldn't bring it up to the world. So don't worry.

The tension arose last week or so when the question of dinner came up in our house. (as it seems to do on a daily basis - no surprises here)
I, being somewhat a gluttonous youth at my very center, immediately knee-jerked a response of, "let's go out to eat!"

What I've failed to adequately track, was the previous frequency of said knee-jerk (at this point the emphasis beginning to fall on 'jerk') - I guess I make that suggestion a lot.
After helping to peacefully decide a home-cooked alternative, I set about the next few days at trying to decipher the cause and history behind my suggestion.

I believe that I have a confirmed case of "rosy-colored hindsight" when it comes to taking our family of four to eating establishments.
(other names for this condition include: "over-eager optimism", "full stomach/empty memory", or "post-traumatic dinner amnesia")

For some reason I always imagine and recall the most placid moments of a meal out with our one year old and four year old as I drive past the shining billboards or see the happy restaurant commercials. I see the moments after we've begun to eat (and they are but mere moments) and everyone is happily enjoying a meal prepared by someone else that either I or a blessing of a gift card was able to supply my famished brood. We aren't cutting food into tiny bites, we aren't chasing crayons across the floor or requesting our own truck-full of napkins to keep the spills at bay. Instead, our cherubs eat and converse and thank us for the privilege of enjoying such a relaxing evening as a family unit.

And so tonight, as I sat with one hand restraining a toddler from walking away on the bench and the other alternating between defending sleeves from ranch dressing and making feeble attempts to consume a modicum of food myself, I looked across the table and inquired of my bride, "And why do I suggest we go out to eat so often?"

Her reply was an imperceptible shrug, as she picked up her food and peacefully enjoyed at least that one bite.


...

Superbowl; maybe the best reason to have a big family in America!

Thanksgiving has turkey.
Christmas has goose (if you hold to that tradition).
Easter has eggs.
And Valentines Day has chocolate.

But Superbowl Sunday has no such boundaries or 'reasonable' regulations in the food department.

And what better way to spend a January evening than throwing your New Years diet to the wind and stuffing your face with Nachos, Wings, Hot Dogs and beverage (often simultaniously). All in the name of choosing a team to cheer for based upon how much your favorite uncle or cousin is rooting for the opposite team... A loyalty he developed at an obscurred moment in childhood when his favorite player was traded to that team's rival.

But the opportunity to eat, and to do so with people you care about - with interesting commercials to go along with it all - THIS is why God invented broadcast TV!

The Rollers - The Sickness

Ugh!

This week has been a 'coughing week' at our house.

The little ones have been hit the worst - our 4 year old has been coughing very loudly, and our 14 month old can barely get enough air to cry about the boogers running out of her face.

...then there's me.

I focus straight to me, since my wife seems impervious to any illness lasting longer than 18.5 hours. Seriously! We catch the 24 hour flu bug in our house and the kids get 24 hours, I fight it off in 12 (if I'm lucky), but Meghan is done in 2.4! So she caught this last coughing spell, and it took her about the max of 18.5 hours to run its course for her. ...she gets no further internet sympathy.

But I, on the other hand...

Well, really you don't need to feel sorry for me either. The cough wasn't fun, and the sinus stuff yesterday wasn't fun - the worst part being some drainage lodging itself next to the inside of my left eardrum - but all told, I'm getting better now.

But that stuff really makes excercise a LOT less fun!

Meg and I began a '30 minutes every other day' workout routine just before the coughs came last week. That means that within a day of whining about not being on my bikes, I actuall did something about it for once! (albeit indoors on the rollers - but hey! take what we get.)
But Sunday night, after a day of talking, preaching, standing and instructing - my head was so thick that I just knew that my inner gyroscope would fail me if I tried.

Good move on my part.

Last night I rode again. And though my balance was acceptable, my lung capacity was horrendous.

[note the use of sickness as an early excuse for being way more out of shape than I've got any business being - skillfully played out as a noble attempt to 'work through it'... what a lame-o!]

But it was good!

I'm going to try to post a video sometime of just what the experience entails. Its hard to describe the feeling... but I might call it something akin to a giraffe on ice skates: you know he's going to have a good time - provided that nothing goes wrong!


...

Natural History Museum - A Zoo for things that used to be alive.

Yesterday, I took the family to the Cleveland Museum of Natural History.

It was a lot of good fun! Big enough for a day's venture with the kids, and not too busy on a Friday this time of year.

Naturally, there was plenty of evolutionary content to be ignored, but the dinosaur exhibits and everything were really nice!

Also, I'd not realized that Cleveland has really got a couple of 'celebrities' there;

We saw "Lucy" of diminutive-prehuman fame...

(though her real bones are back in Ethiopia now)

We saw a moon rock...

(it was not made of cheese)

We saw the first Foucault's Pendulum to be electromagnetically assisted...

(interestingly, and quite permanently positioned directly blocking a fire hose panel)

but perhaps the biggest thrill,

We saw Balto.

The real thing!

(Well, his posthumously posed self.)

And he doesn't look like this...

(and the real story is much more interesting than the movie - though much less romantic - see link below)

And his statue in Central Park, NYC isn't perfect either...

(but, to be fair, its devoted to ALL the sled dogs as well as just the star of today's show...)

This is what Balto looks like today:

And this is a shot taken in his prime...

Here's the full story on the Museum website.

Naturally, I was the only one really excited about Balto within 50 feet at the time. If not for my 1 year old on my shoulders at the time, I think that I may've creeped out a set of high school girls who were remembering the movie version of the story in bits and pieces, as I told them to go to the same web-site that I'm encouraging you to see (above).

Well, the point of this post wasn't supposed to be Balto, but its not a bad point.

...better than something about Jay Leno, I suppose. And much more educational.

...

Dinosaurs!

We have a family membership at the Cleveland Zoo. Its great!

So this last Friday we packed everyone up for our first* full-family zoo adventure of the season, and we found THIS!!!

*We've actually been to the Toledo Zoo already this year, but the hometown zoo counts for the real 'first'.

Meghan's comment after viewing the above 'movie' was simply;

"I can't believe you spent all this time on that."

Thanks dear.

As we walked through the Dinosaur section of the zoo, I realized two things:

1) That I really liked dinosaurs as a kid, and I still kinda do.

2) That I had absolutely no interest in reading the signs.

I'll probably read those signs on a later visit this summer, but for now I just wanted to appreciate the beauty of the natural/animatronic world.

The signs just confuse things anyhow. Palentologists have changed all the dinosaur names two or three times since I was a kid... and I think they had something to do with downgrading Pluto from its planet status as well. I figure it's all about the marketing.

Those signs also force the whole issue of the age of the earth. Its tough to read to your kid that, "The Laziguanasaurus lived in what is now Chile about 1.5 jillion years ago" ...and then explain that the sign, though likely accurate on many points (like the part about Chile), isn't quite in the 'hard facts' category when it comes to the timeline. You're supposed to be able to trust those signs... but that's what a Christian deals with when dipping the toes into the scientific world.

Speaking of trust... Here's a serious 'Jurassic Park' moment for you:

"But I don't understand, Mr. Hammond said that the park was perfectly safe..."

We heard this poor child say something about "being a dentist for the dinosaur"

...our sympathies to those who knew him.

This guy was in the entirely wrong section of the zoo. Not even close to the other dinosaurs.

So appaling! They treat him as if he weren't even real!

...

What's a garage opener to do?

Before:

• Leave the back door about 2 minutes late.
• Walk to the garage door.
• Twist handle.
• Lift door.
• Get vehicle out of garage.
• Remove self from vehicle.
• Close door.
• Rejoin self with vehicle.
• Depart.

After:

• Leave the back door - simultaniously press garage door opener.
• Get into vehicle.
• Be on your way and simultaniously press garage door opener again.

You'll note the new way is much shorter and involves waaay less strain!


Meghan's Dad and I put that bad-boy garage door opener in today, and it will be awesome!


Tomorrow we commence with the roto-tilling of the backyard for the sake of the the great vision that is to come. I'll post some amazing pictoral diagrams of my mental images of what will be...


Perhaps something like this:

...or perhaps not.

...

The other day...

The other day I was casually walking through the living room and I encountered something interesting. It seems that a couple of kids had managed to wrangle themselves an elusive "couch kitty". The following images were hastily snapped on my camera-phone, as I tried to keep a safe distance from the action. Here's a rough narration of how things went down...


Boy: "Good jump, sis! Now hang on 'til he's fully submitted and is placid!"
Girl: "Alright, but get up here and help!"

Girl: "OK, I think I've got him... what variety of couch kitty do you think he is?"

Boy: "I'm not sure, let me see; Orange and White markings, Northeast Ohio, long tail... I'd say we've got ourselves one of the last remaining specimins of 'Felis Caesarus'!"

Girl: "Do you think I should let him go?"

Boy: "Well, that depends on if you want to keep your hand. I'm not liking the look in his eyes..."

At this point in the action, my 'flight' instinct took over and I ran away as fast as I could. I don't know what happened to those children, but one can only hope that they were wise enough to back away from the enraged beast carefully and respectfully.

Obviously this is a fictionalized version of what was really not a story at all. I just wanted a good excuse to post some semi-blurry pictures that I took of the kids' version of cuddling with their cat... who had until just prior to this been blissfully resting on the couch.

Caesar is actually doing really well with the kids (not that he ever wasn't). He's very fond of Ellie's attentiveness to him, and has even been giving Ben the opportunity to pet him on regular occasions.

Things are pretty good.

What life is all about...

A Friday afternoon...

A Family together for lunch...

A nice park with nice weather...

...and some awesome sandwiches!

Ben is at that wonderful/terrible stage when he really wants to do everything for himself, yet often has some difficulty in accomplishing what he sees us doing (and therefore expects to be able to do as well.) The way he attacked this sandwich, however, was one of the proudest moments of my life...

Of course, his reasonableness kicked in after a few bites of attempting the awkward and daunting task of the full thing, and he politely asked, "Mommy, will you cut my sandwich in half?" ...what a good kid! (most times)

...

My car: As useful as need be.

I am the proud owner of a 1992 Geo Prizm.

...and I say 'proud' without any intended irony. Though I completely understand why you'd expect it to be so. I mean, come on!

But I'll have you know that this little car has continued to toe the line in each and every way that I've asked it to perform over the last 6 years of my ownership.

(aside from the winter when the driver's door wouldn't open, and it's continued penchant for rusting out its side-panels... not to mention the headliner sagging and thereby serving to literally line your head with fabric instead of the car's interior... minor issues, I say!)

And since I've put the bike rack bars on the roof, the possibilities have become downright endless!

For instance, observe what we brought home last night!

I actually was a little insulted by the employee at Home Depot who helped me put it on the rack. I had expected him to think me a bit crazy for attempting this - by all appearances I, and all the people who stopped and stared at me on the drive home, would agree. However, he kinda got under my skin when he continued to criticize my judgement rather than making helpful suggestions regarding the alternatives for getting the $200 worth of merchandise that I just purchased at his store safely home.

What he didn't realize is that I come from a proud and long-standing line of tie-down and packing experts, and what's more, I married into a family of practical MacGyvers when it comes to making mechanical things functional! By the time I'd finished lashing that baby down, I could've rolled the car over by pushing on the unmoving cardboard box!

The gliding loveseat is now safely in position at home, providing a spot of respite for those who will watch our backyard transform this spring/summer into a magical land of relaxation.

More on that as things progress...

...

Working on the "Shiny Frenchman"

Not that anyone who frequents this blog (all three of you) cares, but I've cleared another hurdle in the process of my next bike dream!

From a previous post...

"I've also begun the progress on another bicycle conversion.

The above image is what the Schwinn Voyageur 11.8 originally looked like - not mine, you understand, but out-of-the-box "New". "New" back in 1981, the same year I was born."

The "Shiny Frenchman" term is my loving combination of the fact that the bike is chromed steel and bears as a name, the term often associated with the French-Canadian trapper/explorers of days gone by... and this cultural/historical fact is best noted by the additional 'u' in 'Voyageur'. (If my history is bogus on this, please don't burst my bubble - frankly, I just like the name.)


There's also the sideways reference to the great cycling movie, "The Flying Scotsman" mixed in as part of the mystique.

Anyhow, I've found that fixing up and dealing with American steel beasties is a fun little game of conversions and mix-matched parts... what a joy! (sarcasm mixed with scent of challenge)


The parts for this bike have been selected and gifted me as Christmas presents and the like, and my hope is to create a fun all-weather bike with capabilities of following 'real' trails as well as going on commutes and family rides. Certainly I've got bikes enough for most of these endeavors... but the Shiny Frenchman will be my well-loved 'beater' bike that I won't feel bad taking on the trails, or be worried when I go over a curb or two.

Its been a lesson in plan-adaptation in getting things to 'go' for this bike.

I want it to be 'right' and everything to work, but the facts of age and non-standard parts (read: not parts made once the European size systems had taken over) has made this project a little more involved than I'd like.

But since I daresay that no one who will likely read this will share enough interest to invest the minutes necessary to read of the trials involved, I will simply post a photo of the (nearly) finished product...

Since this picture was taken, I've switched out the regular platform pedals for my platforms with clipless adapters built in, and I changed the seat out for one that's much more 'dashing'.

The only other issue is that I believe the brake pads are original to the frame, and therefore it stops like the Titanic turns... not so much. This will be remedied soon, since I've also hooked up my son's biketrailer-hitch, which only adds to the stopping conundrum.

However, I'm really pleased with how things are turning out on it. Its comfortable, utilitarian, and has a semi-vintage 'flash' to it... ah, how nice.

(Many thanks to Michael and his "Carbon Rocket" for making all of this a possibility.)

...

Our Response to F.A.A.N.G.

Poor Caesar...

This post has its origins back from December. We'd had all those 'unfortunate' reports and nasty letters floating about from the Cat Union, F.A.A.N.G. That's all in the past now, mostly. And well, with Ellie around it seems as though Caesar has found a new perspective on things. He and I sat down and talked... we had visitors coming from all corners of the country in order to pay attention to him... things weren't too bad. The excitement of everyone being in town for the baptism is long since gone, and all the "guest petters" have gone away with it. Then the Christmas holiday let him have some time to think about things at home by himself. He's found that all that's left are the usual humans... perhaps he'll try them again.

This picture was taken back in December... a moment that changed things!
A moment that changed things so that nowadays they look a little more like this...

So Caesar and I thought that it would be appropriate to send the lovely representatives at F.A.A.N.G. a status update, as they indended, in order to share what life is like now...

To: F.A.A.N.G. Local 9L2 (Cleveland-West)Investigative Rep. #9L2-24, Lavernius "Midnight" Olearude, et al

From: Orange Julius "Caesar" Peters and alpha human family member, Matthew

Dear cats,

As requested, we are submitting this follow-up report within the appropriate time limits in order to put aside any doubts that the Feline Association Against Negligence in Grooming & Care (F.A.A.N.G.) has previously had concerning our household and the humans therein.

Let it be known that the matters previously mentioned have been discussed and all parties are readily compliant with the agreements reached.

What's more, we'd much prefer that your monitoring of our situation in the future be restricted to opportunities when one or more parties within our household requests your assistance...

In other words; "Keep your whiskers out of our business!"

Happily,

- The Peters Household

Yep, we're doing ok...

God's Blessings to you and your families (pets included) as well!

...

Papa

I've been meaning to post about my grandpa for almost 5 months now.

Not with the anticipation that he'd ever read it, because its too late for that now, but just as a wonderful illustration of life and hope...

In case you'd like to read the whole thing, here's a link to the Obituary, the following are exerts to help me illustrate...

Mr. Robert E. Kleinschmidt
Saginaw, Michigan
March 16, 1931 - January 30, 2009

Robert E. Kleinschmidt passed away Friday, January 30, 2009, at his home with his family surrounding him. He was the only child of Earl C. and Esther (Beuthin) Kleinschmidt. He was baptized and confirmed at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Court and Bond. He attended Herig School and St. Paul’s Lutheran School. He graduated from Arthur Hill Trade School in 1948 and worked as a draftsman at Michigan Bell until entering the Army. He served in the 5th AAA Battalion, Wiesbaden, Germany. Prior to his retirement, he was employed at Baker Perkins, General Motors - Plant One, and Saginaw Steering Gear. Surviving him is Louise, his wife of 57 years; his children...; his grandchildren, who made Papa so very proud...; great-grandchildren...; several sisters-in-law, many loving nieces, nephews, and cousins.

The family wishes to thank Covenant - VNA/Hospice for the special loving care given to Robert by Jennifer, Barb, Barry, and Pat.

Memorial service will take place 4:00 p.m. Tuesday, February 3, 2009, at Bethlehem Lutheran Church...

As I thought about my grandfather's life in all the driving back and forth to Michigan, I realized again something that I'd always known but never fully formulated; Papa was a 'normal guy'.

When you thought of him, there wasn't usually one particular story that cropped up, there wasn't one huge over-riding feature of who he was that overshadowed everything else, he simply lived his life as a hard working man of God.

He had hobbies and passions to be sure, it wasn't that his life was dull by any means! There was the weekly (sometimes more often) golf games and league. There was the woodworking shop he had in the basement. There were the antiques that he collected and sold. There was often a beer in the hand and a smile ready to be shown just behind what sometimes seemed like a gruff exterior.

Papa did what a man was supposed to do, and he did it well.

He loved his family

He took care and concern when he could

He was someone who could be relied upon

He worshiped and believed!

And though there might not be anything unusual or worthy of a Hollywood docu-drama about his life, in many ways that's a bigger credit to him than anything else! Because life shouldn't be about drama, life is about being loved by God, living in His grace, and sharing that commitment that Christ showed us by being committed, loving and serving your family, friends and church wherever possible.

I think that this is why there's that mention of special thanks to the people at the VNA (Visiting Nurses Association) in the obituary. My Grandma was at the end of her rope in trying to care for and show concern for Papa toward the end; and though these nurses and attendants would likely tell you that they were just doing their job, THAT is where the really extrordinary things of our world happen. When humanity treats one another in the manner that God intended - those moments of "just doing our job" suddenly become some of the most meaningful guestures in the lives of the people we serve.

That's how it was for Christ.

Jesus, when you think about it, what "just doing His job" when it comes to the extraordinary event of saving the world from sin. As He approached Calvary He showed a commitment, a love and a servant's heart that made it possible for us to not be quite as sad as we mourn the loss of a loved one... to not weep without the ability to smile amidst the pain... to know that we need not worry about how wonderful or flashy our lives looked - but instead rely upon His life and what a wonderful thing THAT was for the sake of His family, whom He loved!

Warm days in Ohio

It is still February, right?

The weather right now (7:15 am) is telling me that its just shy of 40 degrees outside.
Yesterday we just about hit 60 as a high!

Ben and I had been outside playing in the snow after lunch, and after his nap he awoke to find that our sledding 'run' and the small snow-brick wall that we'd build were no longer the things of beauty that they once were... three hours before.

Snow is such a fickle thing...

But thats ok, at least we get some to play in while it lasts!

By the way, Ben has become surprisingly good at throwing snowballs... one reason that I'm a little glad the snow is melting. Not so much because I'm bothered by getting hit by him, but because he gets me so regularly and with enough force that I'm a little prone to forget that he's three (and how short he is), and that resulted in a couple snowballs in his chest yesterday... which of course exploded into his face as any reasonable snowball would.

He loved it!
I felt pretty bad.
But then we laughed and warmed up inside.

My Hero: The Man in the Yellow Hat

We've got a 3 year old, and sometimes that's a little hectic.

And by hectic, I mean; [insert horror-movie scream here]

I know that I don't have it all that bad, comparatively.

There are hundreds of thousands of parents out there who have it WAY worse than we do, but that doesn't mean that we all don't want to pull our hair out sometimes.

At least they'll grow out of the one-sided reasoning soon...

But could you imagine having an eternal 3 year old!?!

And one who can climb trees and effectively use his feet as hands!?!

All of this in a package that could be, at any time, "returned" to somewhere other than your small-ish living quarters...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet a hero of mine:

The Man in the Yellow Hat

(sans hat)

Ben has recently been watching the PBS-kids cartoon of Curious George in the mornings. We all love it! Its got the same loveable feel as the books and cartoons from days gone by... but all the humans are WAY more patient!

It used to be that the entire town would be chasing down our little primate friend by the second-last page of the book, but now, along with "The Man", everyone else seems to have developed a knowing tolerance for George's antics.

Could you just imagine though, your three-year-old wanders off on his own (I'm assuming that George's developmental state is roughly similar, and I know that might be a little optimistic, but let's go with it...), he wanders off on his own and drives a steam-shovel into a building under construction... after he pours wet cement all over the workmen's tools... after he eats all the lunches... after he dumps a bucket of rivets from a 5th story I-beam onto the Foreman's head... after... what?... "My monkey wandered off and may or may not be in that construction site!?!"

OK, so maybe "The Man" isn't a prime example of parental watchfulness, but he is a prime example of parental patience and unswervingly committed forgiveness and love!

There's ALWAYS a picture like this at the end of a Curious George book:

And it makes me wish that I was able to be more patient in the moments of craziness...

I mean, come on! Why stress, right? Let's all just put on a yellow outfit and 'chill'! Its not like we have to wear a ten-gallon hat the color of mustard and live life without a proper first name...

"Um... Excuse me! You forgot to mention my cool tie!"

...the model dad in every way.

...

Christmas Letter

A couple of beautiful gifts that God has blessed us with!

May His love and grace be with you.

- The Peters Family

F.A.A.N.G.

(This is somewhat old news, but I wanted to share the events of all this in their proper order, so here you go.)

Introducing my 'friend', the local rep. from the Cat Union...

Lavernius "Midnight" Olearude
F.A.A.N.G. Local 9L2 (Cleveland-West)

Investigative Rep. #9L2-24

No, of course that's not actually him. But this is almost exactly the pose and outline of Mr. Olearude as he confronted my house in order to gain attention for his cause.

I tell you, I don't have much respect for unions when they resort to strong-arm (or strong-paw in this case) tactics...

Do you remember how his note of warning sounded so ominous? Well apparently it wasn't merely a shot over the bow. Our kind and lovable Caesar - playful and cuddly on most occasions - has struck me WITH THIS!!!

(Insert Picture... oh wait, I didn't take a picture and it wasn't really bad - so it already healed)


[Please note that this injury is actually very easily explained, though no less surprising and sassy than portrayed. Don't report my cat... yet. Though maybe that's just how THEY want me to react.]

Let me paint the scene for you:

Earlier this week, Ben has gone to bed and Meg and I are sitting on the couch preparing to do so ourselves, when Caesar begins meowing and crying. He whines in the basement, he comes up the steps, goes back downstairs, comes to the doorway of the living room... and won't stop.

Usually this means that he's well out of food and wants me to replenish his stock. (I fill a few large FRIENDS-size coffee cups and he takes a few days to go through them usually.)

But occasionally he'll get greedy and/or finicky and wants 'fresh' dry food.

So he was whining and crying as if the world was coming to an end, and I figured I'd better check on his food since by the way he was complaining it must be absolutely empty. It wasn't.

There were two bowls about 2/3 full... so I said, "No way! You eat what you've got and I'll give you more."

He must not of liked that.

As I turned to walk up the stairs I felt a pain on my foot - at first I thought it was a sliver from our stairs or something - but I looked down and realized that Caesar had caught me from behind and left a cut on the underside of my bare foot. Sometimes he gets playful as you walk away, but this was a bit more than usual.

I turned around and, forgetting that I had been put 'on notice', said some loud words and shared the ability of my other foot to move him. (I didn't 'kick' him... it was one of those 'put your foot against and shove' moves. He was fine!)

Clearly the cat union had encouraged him beyond his usual bounds, I could tell he felt bad - (as did I). However, someone must have coaxed the incident out of him - or perhaps we were within window-sight of one of the neighbor cats - because shortly thereafter I received this:

Dear humans,

Due to recent events, we have found it necessary to prepare the following report and submit it to the F.A.A.N.G.
(Feline Association Against Negligence in Grooming & Care)

Incident Report Type: "kick"

Details: Feline was brought into intentional semi-violent contact with perpetrator's foot/leg extremity. Type II - movement resulting.

Repercussion: Local Feline has right to enact retribution grade 'Yellow' (see official F.A.A.N.G. book of Regulatory Responses) for 30 days following event.

Household is hereby under further probationary review for 90 days.

signed,

- Lavernius "Midnight" Olearude

F.A.A.N.G. Local 9L2 (Cleveland-West)

Investigative Rep. #9L2-24

Caesar and I had a long talk after this - while I trimmed his claws - and I'll be penning a letter to F.A.A.N.G. with his approval in order to clear this whole matter up.

...

Bees and Pigeons and the Holy Spirit

This is a post that I've been thinking about doing for a long time, so I thought that I'd work on it now, and maybe post it for a future date... kinda keep it in reserve until it seems just right.

And I guess now is "just right" as any time.

I mentioned that my daughter is getting baptized this weekend. I am really excited about that. Not only is she getting blessed and made a child of God in this sacred thing of our divine being, but we get to see some family, we'll have some cake... and did I mention that I get to baptize her?

(I'm a pastor, in case I haven't made that clear to the casual reader... all one of you.)

I get to perform the baptism, and its one of my favorite things to be used by the Holy Spirit in very real, and amazingly significant ways. And since God has promised us that baptism is always very real and always very significant... I'm pretty excited any time I get to baptize someone.

But even moreso this time.

So... "Bees and Pigeons", eh Matt?

Yes, yes, we're getting there.

While I was on vicarage (a year of internship for a lutheran pastor), one of the gentlemen in my congregation was a part-time beekeeper. He was really a handyman by trade, but after a few instances of removing honey-bees from people's attics and walls, he thought, "why not use these little buggers the right way?" and proceeded to become somewhat of a local expert. His work was sort of like the little red hen's - nobody really wanted to get too close and help out, but everyone LOVED the finished product! And the honey he sold was pretty darn good, let me tell you!

But I decided to be brave and go out with him to see the bees one day.

It was amazing!

I was so intrigued that the concept of beekeeping started to sound like something I'd consider doing... depending on where we wound up. (Since then I've figured that suburban Cleveland is not necessarily the best place to keep bees.)

Then, back at the seminary for our last year, some pigeons took up roost in our window ledges, and we had two nests that hatched sucessfully while we were there. Ben and I were constantly transfixed by the progress and growth of the little ones. (...and Caesar loved watching them, wishing that he could just get his claws through the window.)

When one of my good buddies was over one time, the pigeons were making a racket and he got to telling me how he'd raised homing pigeons as a kid through 4H. He and his dad had a coop out in the backyard, and it wasn't that difficult really at all. He'd never raced them, technically, but they certainly could fly.

Forget bees, I wanted to get some pigeons!

And thus part of the inspiration for the naming of this blog...

There's still a little part of me that wants to try having pigeons. Its sort of a mysterious desire to help propagate something really fun and cool! (In my eyes at least.)

But those days are yet to prove themselves as being nearby.

So instead I'm doing this - my other little "pigeon" project - as part of the mysterious desire to help propagate something really amazing and yet so simple...

Matthew 3:16-17
As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased."

...

Christmas Lights

Time for 'True Confessions'...

I left my Christmas lights up all year long in 2008.

I left them up because at first I didn't have a ladder.

You see, I felt the brave new homeowner last fall and put up the lights exclusively from the rooftop. Then I realized that my roof is pitched a little more in one section than I should really be working on - but I realized this as I stretched to my full length with one foot over the peak to hold on and my cold hands fumbling to attach lights to the gutters.

I stayed away from the roof for a while after that.

Then I bought myself a ladder... in July.

So when your Christmas lights have already been up for the better part of 7 months, it really seems a shame to not simply leave them up. I mean, we've endured the self-loathing (and by 'we' I mean 'me') this long - might as well save the trouble in the dark and cold days next fall!

And I did!

And for a moment it was grand!

I simply plugged in the lights once more, ran the extension cord, and viola! My house was decorated for the holiday season! It was a proud moment for home-maintenance slackers everywhere...

But the next night a few lights went out.

And the next night a few more sections.

By the time I got home from a meeting mid-week I had exactly 50 lights functional out of my initial 1500 or so. Grrr.

So, I tried the magic light repair 'clicker-gun'.



And I read the directions for the magic light repair 'clicker-gun'.



[sigh]


Hey, did I mention we've got our tree up?

...