Dad's Retirement--Round 1

Over this summer, a magical, long-anticipated event happened in our family:
My Dad retired.

Now, this has been particularly anticipated in the last couple of years, since Dad had to go all the way to Canada to finish out his time with his employer when they moved out of our area.  If you haven't read about the adventures of my family while the parents were away, read any of my posts filed under "brother" or "homecomings," and you will be up to date.

So--retirement.  We had a surprise party for Dad.  The surprise was that we were able to keep straight faces while lying through our teeth for weeks in order to get the party together.  And the bonus was that, for once in our lives, Mom told us to lie to Dad.  Fun.

The cake.

Memorabilia from his working years.

My personal favorite:  his lunch box. 

My dad took this small cooler to work every day for many years.  The contents would vary, except for two things:  Tums and ibuprofen.  Tough job.

Shop talk.

 Women folk.  Oh, if you could listen to this particular group of ladies. 

They are too funny.

Brother--remembered his side kick, forgot his shoes.

Priorities, people.

The guest of honor, best father in the world, hardest working man I know.

So, in his retirement, Dad has done the following, so far:

~ Got a dog and developed the most severe case of puppy-love I have ever witnessed.

~ Torn down a shed and built a new one out of the scraps.  Isn't that how we all do it?

~ Repaired vehicles for everyone in a fifteen mile radius.

~ Planted a massive garden, including a crazy amount of corn and pumpkins, which he sees as a perfect background to take more photos of his dog. 

~ Went back to work.  Seriously. 

So, Dad is now semi-retired, semi-OK with that, and completely enamored with his dog, Bruiser. 

But that love is for another post :)



Ladies' Day of Laughs

Yesterday my sisters and I spent the day at a "Ladies' Day Out" event that was hosted by the WMU.

I fear that most of the hilarity that took place will be lost in translation, so I will just stick to the photos.

The event offered workshops on parenting, scrap booking, and Zumba.

Zumba is dancing.

We were in a Baptist church. 

That alone was enough to lend laughter to the day.

We began with donuts, coffee, and chatting with friends.

Baptists don't do much without donuts and coffee.

In case introduction is necessary, meet The First Born, my sister.

She earns the title of first born by more than position; she is serious, studious, and responsible.  Well, she is until we sisters get together and take a workshop that should have been titled "101 ways to wear a scarf from Salvation Army:  Cover Your Cleavage."

But, I digress.

Meet Baby Sister.  You will know her better as the mother of The Roo, which is her claim to fame.  Well, that and her hilarious personality.  She is funny, outspoken, and hardworking.  I cannot help but have fun when she is around.  Especially in a workshop called "101 Ways to Wear..." 

You get the point.

Baby sister decided to take advantage of the Women's Health booth and get her blood pressure checked. 

After taking her blood pressure three times, with two different devices, the nurse declared that Baby Sister should see her doctor, as her blood pressure is much too high.

Her response?

Mirth and disbelief. 

I think the nurse was afraid that we spiked the coffee.

Workshops and lunch, followed by a wonderful group speaker, and Ladies' Day Out was over.

So we did the natural thing and hit Rural King before heading home.

Because these girls know how to have fun.

Spice It Up

Mr. Chins has come to live out his final days in our home. 

While he seems to be doing well, we believe that he still has cancer.  So, we brought him with us, and he is spending his precious time left with us, lounging on my couch, shedding fur all over the spots touched by the sun.  He also enjoys sleeping in Daisy Dog's pillow, when available.  It isn't often available.

Tiny Love has acquired the job of feeding Chins his daily meals. 

Last night, she obviously felt that his dinner needed something extra.

She emptied in the usual fare:

"Hmmm, Rotisserie Chicken and Gravy?  Sound good, but I think it needs a little something..."

She scurried out back to this:

My lovely little thyme plant.

Dinner is served.

Chicken is better with thyme.  I agree.

Chins was not impressed.

I was totally impressed--matching the herb with an appropriate food (well, cat food) and knowing how to strip the leaves off and make it pretty. 

OK, I was also a little grossed out.

If it is true that we eat with our eyes first, Chins must have shut his.

He waited for a less fancy dinner.

"Chicken and gravy, straight up.  No garnish, please."

Back from the Abbey

My absence from the blog was viral. 

Curlyjo has been plagued with fever and tummy ache for two days. 

I have been plagued with the sound of the television for two days.

That would be The Sound of Music--again.

"How do you solve a problem like Maria?"

Easy...MUTE.

I love that movie, but seriously.  I am over it for now.

What does Curlyjo need when sick and watching enough TV to cause muscle atrophy?

Popcorn, extra salty.  You know, for the electrolytes.

I tried to sneak in some healthy food.

Some people like to exploit sister's illness, watching TV while flipping all over the place and taking over any uneaten snacks.

Thankfully, Curlyjo is on the mend, and Tiny Love has not contracted anything from sister.

And the TV is off.

Ahhhh, I can hear myself think. 

"The hills are alive, with the sound..."

*sigh*

It lingers.

Out Like a Lamb

Our quaint little town has little carnival every year, the Lions Carnival (hosted by the local Lions Club).  It is a carnival only in the sense that there are games, such as "Dunk-your-pastor-in-the-Dunk-Tank" (fun for kids and adults alike); rides, such as "Mini-Ferris-Wheel-located-just-under-the-power-lines;" and local food, such as a Napoleon-Dynamite-esque selection of  Prairie Farms Ice Cream.  It is cheap, the kids love it, and I get to see pretty much every person in our town. 

We began our Lions Carnival fun with the "parade."  Why the quotes?  The parade is only a parade in the sense that a few otherwise strange looking objects follow each other down the street hurling cheap candy at onlookers while cops follow, watching.  Here, see for yourself.

Parade = Tractors

This is the "Bucking Bronco," a trailer with saddles and a messed up axle that simulates a three-legged pony ride.  As a rule, I never ride anything with a saddle, but peer pressure is a pain--even when you are over thirty.  So, last night I "rode" it.  I stood in the middle, holding on tightly to a terrified five-year-old boy, and still managed to get off of the three minute ride with lower back pain. 

Can you say "old?"

Where is the cop when you need to discuss child restraints?

Hey, aren't they supposed to be at a game?  Watch it boys--the only thing we take more seriously than tractors is football.

"Dude, I know. "

He looks how I felt:  resigned.

Here is how The Husband spent the four minutes of the parade:

 

Baby Elyse wanted to come along, but like a good mother, Tiny Love arranged for child care before hurling herself into the street for smashed Tootsie Rolls.

Reactions once the fun was over?  (Wow, that was fast.)

"What was that?  Where is the CHOCOLATE?" 

I tried to explain the word "recession." 

Never miss a teachable moment.

Ever the optimist, Curlyjo just looks at the bright side:  Dots. 

We ended the evening (you know, five minutes after it started) by watching The Husband pose on government property outside "The Million Dollar Courthouse." 

I have been looking for teachable moments with him, too.

Sarcasm aside (no, really?), we had a great time. 

But, like Randy Jackson, "That was just weird for me."

Cookies So Good, Your Teeth Fall Out

I baked cookies on Saturday, and the recipe made the most delicious Chocolate Chip Cookies EVER. 

I sent some over to each of my sisters' houses to welcome them home from their mission trip to El Salvador. 

And to keep myself from eating the whole batch by myself. 

Sharing is good for everyone.

Smitten Kitchen's recipe!  Go here to get it.

Now, don't eat too many, or your teeth might fall out. 

Take it from someone who has endured a sugar-induced tooth loss:

Someone who doesn't consume sugar like the favored form of addictive stimulants, and she still lost a tooth last week (ah, rites of passage, how I love you for letting me think Curlyjo is still just a little girl):

Here, Curlyjo, I will let you have the last cookie.

Too slow, girl. 

Maybe next time.

Vacation Part 3: I really was there.

I think there are literally two pictures of me on our vacation.  I took 150 pictures. 

So, let's play a little game of "Where's Waldo:  Vacation Edition."

Only look for me.  Not that creepy Waldo guy.

There I am.

Yep. 

Hey, that's my ring!

Sure looks familiar.

See!  I really was there. 

And it was wonderful.

See you tomorrow with a link to an awesome Bible study for women!

Vacation Fun: Part 1

We went to Florida!

We haven't had a vacation in nine years, so it was absolutely wonderful to spend time together and see a part of our lovely country that I had never seen before.   

The trip started off poorly, considering that both of our girls had vomited before we had even spent an hour on the road.  And post-Dramamine.  There is no hope.

But things turned around.  We drove all day without incident, and arrived safely at our hotel...better known as "The Roach Hotel."  We will forever call it by that endearing name, even though we didn't actually see roaches.  We did, however, see this:

Unless someone had a serious Hawaiian Punch incident, it looks like someone bled out on the rug.

Seriously...this is how you know you have stopped at the wrong hotel. 

Add mold in the bathroom and vomit in the pool area, and you have our lodging for the night.

It felt a little like that show "Martin," where one man plays most of the characters.  The guy at the desk when we came in seemed to be the only employee.  I kept seeing him all around the hotel, doing everything.  It was just weird. 

But, at long last, we arrived at the townhouse we rented.  It was amazing!

The dining area/kitchen.

Living room area/upstairs balcony.

Our bedroom.

Kids' bedroom.

(Okay, some of those kids aren't mine.  My cousin and her family went with us.)

Lower balcony, out to the private pool!

Second master bedroom.

There were also three bathrooms and a laundry area, and the whole place was fully stocked with towels, toiletries, and kitchen essentials.  It was amazing. 

I really enjoyed it, but would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't spent my time around the pool reading this (which is, by the way, one of the best books EVER.  So haunting.) and feeling guilty about the decadence that was our vacation. 

Maybe I should have chosen lighter reading. 

Still, our family had a great time, and the best is yet to come:  THE BEACH. 

More tomorrow...