Our Passion

I'm not sure if EVERY family with little girls is prone to this, but we are entirely over-run with figurines and imaginative moments based around Ponies.  Lots of Ponies.  More Ponies than I've ever desired...actually...uhmmm...that's not a strong descriptor.  For Christmas the girls received a castle for Little People, and it is often the site of Ponie parties and dances and a refuge from "bad Ponies".

Jamie likes to line the Ponies up at attention.  She is often singing the "My Little Pony" theme song while she works.  Here's a sample of our growing collection:

Caitin took these pictures in a recent Ponie photo-shoot.  Here's Star-Song...of the natural flying variety.  (As it turns out, wings are not required for flight.)

Here's my favorite...Choco.  I named him. (except Caitin say's he's a her)

The girls often pretend they are specific ponies.  Some of our tantric moments occur during these pretend sessions:

"Caitin, it's time for dinner", calls Sarah.

"NOOOO!  I'm not Caitin!  I'm Rainbow-Dash!", comes Caitin's impatient reminder - the fifth in 10 minutes.

Rolling eyes and with an audible "Ugh", Sarah complies sweetly, "Rainbow-Dash, it's time for dinner!"

We. Love. Ponies.

Cabin Fever

Due to a little bit of cabin fever, we needed to get out on MLK day and do SOMETHING.  Really, anything was better than staying in the house.  So we decided to take the girls roller skating. 

Our girls pick things up really fast.  In fact they learned very quickly that they DID NOT enjoy roller skating.  It took less than 2 laps around the rink before they KNEW they wanted to leave!  Sooooo...we went to the park.  We've had abnormally mild January weather lately, and found the park to be an enjoyable escape - both from the house and from that crowded roller rink. 

Ahhhhh...that's better!

Expectations

I seem to be very good at bragging about my accomplishments.  It's something I've developed over the years.  Sometimes I'm subtle about it, and sometimes I come right out with things.  I soak in the attention and thrive on recognition.  I cringe at how many times I've harolded myself, yet I still do it.  I am not good however, at holding forth.  I don't have a knack for that. 

I have most notably (mostly notable to myself anyway) been unable to hold forth when I'm planning or hoping to do something big or awesome.  Even when I'm in the early stages of something new, my mind begins playing out how I will break my huge news to the world. 

This is no big deal really.  I have broken many a silence with topics based around my latest interest or projects.  It's been quite handy.

EXCEPT...except when later, or worse yet SOONER than later, my big plans fall apart.  Because when word spreads of my big plans and people inquire about them, I have to admit that I was totally in over my head with those cock-eyed ideas. 

The best is when I say I'm strong and then the next day I find out that really I am weak.  Like this week, for instance...on Tuesday I spouted on and on about marathons and how great I am that I will be doing a marathon.  I embellished about previous attempts and injuries that I have overcome.  Then on Wednesday I went for a good hard training run and afterward found my leg aching like it did 8 years ago.  The same aching that came because I over-stressed my body.  That afternoon I figured I was just going mental.  There's no way that injury could still be there after 8 years!  I tried running again today, and well...I'm done.  After 18 training runs I'm out.  No more marathon.  Sorry folks...(or perhaps your welcome) there will be no marathon accomplishment report.

PS:  As fortune would have it, stress fractures are caused by repeated impact.  My cycling will not be impeded by this injury.  Stay tuned for future great stories of physical accomplishments to come!

Fuzzies

There are several daily routines in our household, but none so regular and fulfilling as this:

Apparently as soon as Sarah, Caitin, and Jamie get home from preschool, Jamie's first priority is to "get the fuzzies out". 
"Mom, shoes off!  Fuzzies Out!" she says.
She does it all the time...Sunday morning, before dinner, before brushing teeth...pretty much any time she takes her socks off, or feels the inclination to take her socks off.  It's an important event.

Caitin used to do it too.  Only she called them "Shuzzies", having not figured out the "fffff" sound yet.

Jamie is very thorough, seperating each toe and swiping with a free finger once or twice.

As far as satisfying grooming routines go, getting the fuzzies out probably rates right up there with cleaning ears with q-tips.  Except fuzzy-getting is more handy, whereas ear cleaning is only good after a shower.

On the Road to Marathon

A long, long time ago I decided to run a marathon. (By "long, long" I mean before solidifying my college major but after my mission... aka winter 2001/2002.) I'll not get into why I chose to run a marathon. It's irrelevent to this post.

I was extremely naive about marathons. I had run cross country in high school though, so I knew I could at least run 5 miles. Against almost every internal inclination, my first training run was slated at 15 miles. I made 12. At which point I nearly passed out. Remember that this was after my mission?

After a short recovery period from the initial death march, I began a regimen that I really enjoyed. I was running 3 or 4 times per week, putting in 5- to 7-miles regularly. I maxed out with a 13-mile run.

Then, almost instantly, my leg began to ache. Terribly. Running felt fine, but after a run my leg would throb for hours, sometimes days. Ice and heat couldn't touch it. After several x-rays and a bone scan a stress fracture was revealed in my femur. The doctor's recommendation was to stop running. I stopped for a couple of months and then tried to ease back into running, but the pain returned. So I quit running. Reality had struck, and I can be thankful it wasn't worse.

Last fall when I was riding with my friend Ryan in the Tour des Lacs, he mentioned thinking about running a marathon. I laughed at him and probably told him he was crazy. (You know, cause I'm such a good friend.) Inside, though I was thinking that I had some unfinished business in that realm.

At the beginning of December I was talking to a buddy who had made an attempt at a marathon last year, and I asked him if he was going to try again this year. Then, almost before he could answer I blurted out that if he challenged me to join him I probably would. See how smooth I am? Sheesh.

The next day I looked up some facts about marathons. I had always figured that 26.2 miles was an ugly english equivalent to a round metric number. Yeah... 42.195 km. I was further horrified to learn that the first guy to run "a marathon" died because of the exertion. Did I really want to do this?

Too late. I had not left that December conversation with my typical wishy-washy commitment. I had fully agreed to do it.

So I'm on the road. I've got 16 training runs under my belt. I got a water bottle belt for Christmas. I invested in new shoes. I'm fully committed, and I'm even following a training plan! In good fashion though, I truncated the 30-week plan into a shorter 22-week timeframe. I mean let's not be too thorough.

Snooooow Fun!

As is tradition in our ward, we planned and executed a winter campout over the holiday. This campout included not only the young men, but some of the men and old men too.

Prior to the official campout, the Deacons had their own campout at the same location in order to have a chance at sleeping IN the cabin and build igloos the next day. I went up to help build the igloos. We used an Ice Box igloo making mold, and these pictures show the final steps.

This igloo took about three hours to build.

When we went up 2 weeks later, here was the view. We were all glad to see them still standing.

After the boys successfully slept in it, we tested the integrity of the igloo. It was solid.
Lest we forget, the best part of the campout was the food, cause I cooked it. That's not true. I had some help. I cooked for 18 people using 4 dutch ovens. 1 pot of babyback ribs, 1 pot of bbq chicken, 1 perfect cornbread, and a huge pot (16-inch) of jambalaya. It came out just right, and there were very few leftovers. Sorry, no pics...it went so quickly!

Let 'em Ride

I was a bit hot when I sat down to blog yesterday. I'm still a bit sad about it all. I liked that bike when I bought it, but when a bike becomes a daily rendezvous, it becomes kinda' like an extra limb. When someone violates my own personal postage stamp space and takes that extra limb...I start to lose patience.

But last night as I said my prayers, and began to think about praying for the return of my bike or that the thief would receive due justice; I just couldn't do it. Instead I realized that someone needed my bike more than I did. It doesn't make me miss it any less, but perhaps my bike will somehow put dinner on the table for a couple of littluns that otherwise... or maybe some fella can now get to work confidently (and dry might I add)... who knows. For them I ended up praying.

Equally likely is that some punk kid now has a sweet ride. I hope he enjoys it, cuase that makes it more likely that I'll catch that feller out on the trail. Heaven have mercy!

Weather 1; Brandon 2; Thievery 1

I'm going to become a thief. It's not going to be easy, though. Every time I take something I will remember what and where. I won't go out of my way to steal because I don't want to be a suspicious person. I'll just take things that present themselves within my own neighborhood. If someone leaves their garage open I'll go grab the closest thing to the door and then pretend it is mine while I complete my walk. If it's a bike, I hope it's my size so I don't look very funny riding away.

Wait...what would I do with the loot? Craigslist is out. Ebay is a little safer, but it would be best to find a black market outlet. I'll worry about that later...

Maybe I'll specialize in bikes, cause they are easy to grab and they actually provide the getaway. Besides, most people don't use their bikes very often, so I'd have ages of time before anyone is on my trail! The winter time will be prime for this, even though it will not be very often that garages are left open. I'll have to avoid two things: attached garages and daily bike commuter homes (those guys are livewires).

Houses with privacy fences will lend themselves handily. Can't see in...can't see out.

Because I'm going to be such a smart thief, I'll only grab normal-looking bikes. I would never grab a bike that had very unique characteristics - like fenders that are gaudy and fat like a motorcycle or lights that would suggest that the bike is used as a commuter. I want to appear normal when I'm riding away. That being said, I'll never grab a Walmart bike. This kind of risk cannot be wasted on garbage. No brand name equals no deal. Craigslist is too saturated with those bike anyway...wait Craigslist won't work. Too easy to be caught.

After I have my newly acquired bike I will never ride it. Too risky. Always a possibility that the owner would see me. I'll have to stash it at a friend's house...make up some story about how I need to keep it there until I've got room for my new bike (that I got for Christmas or something) at my own house. I'm really going to have to figure out a buyout option on this thing 'cause it is hot.

I've got it! I'll just claim that I bought it on craigslist and that the guy I bought it from seemed kinda sketchy, but I felt alright about it...you know, the innocence card! I'll be such a great liar!

This life of crime is going to be sweet!