a little weekend construction

we're building a backyard play structure, a sort of tower-fort. And by "we" I mostly mean Spud, but I did swing the hammer a bit. Ma and Nick helped too, but the chief assistant was, of course, the Widge.note his little power drill. You can get these super-realistic toy tools at Toys-R-Us. You can actually even get a toy welding kit, in case your toddler should need to weld some imaginary superstructure for his imaginary oil rig. (By the way, Uncle Stan: the Widge has a toy chain-saw too, and far more realistic than the one I had as a two-year old: it actually has a moving chain. He doesn't know about it yet, we're saving it for some future tree-trimming day, or something to that effect)

which reminds me: whenever I trim trees, I always have to use a saw (in fact for a while I used the miter saw, which you, Forky, know as the "bone saw" because thats exactly what it looks like, but Spud found out I was chopping trees with his saw and put the kibosh on that. Now I have to use an annoying hacksaw on which I swear the blade part is loose, because it buckles in the midst of serious and even moderate limb cutting. Tree limbs, I mean. Anyway, its still better than the hatchet, which is a fun way to get out any aggression you might have, if you're an aggressive sort of person who might otherwise be tempted to bludgeon people, but is otherwise a fairly crude instrument for tree-cutting, and also awfully hard on my wimpy wrists) Why do I never get to use the chainsaw?! I used the electric drill just fine. It was suggested this weekend that I, personally, am the reason we don't own a nail-gun. I choose to revel in my notoriety: I am infamous!

Anyway, I don't have a photo of how the fort looks now, which is a real shame, because all the wood parts are attached, and its now two-toned, in that we got one coat of paint on, barely, and then ran out of that color, so the second coat is partially on in a whole other color. And I had to stop part-way into the second coat to rescue bugs from the sandbox and other standard mom duties. but I'll certainly post pictures when its finished. After the paint, we need to attach the slide, a few side panels, the shade-cloth, a rope ladder, and various other minor but cool accouterments.

Meanwhile, he got a haircut:
he looks like a little shorn sheep! This is what happens when dads are in charge of haircuts.
And speaking of hair: why is mine still so curly?!

Catching up a little

because life is never dull.

So a few weekends ago was the county fair, little bit cute. The Widge was delighted to meet some animals up close, like the gigantic turkey:
well, he doesn't look delighted, but that is an awfully big turkey. He doesn't look specially tast, but I'm guessing thats because there isn't any cranberry sauce nearby. Anyway, there were also a lot of very small goats. The Widge recently got a story book that claims goats can range from 22-220 pounds. First off, I think this goat is less than 22 pounds. And I think 220 pounds is a whole lot of goat. I hope never to run into that goat.If I were the mean sort, I'd say: in this photo the Widge is standing with goats at the upper and lower ends of that range. Anyway, the goat was a big hit, but fuzzy animals tend to consistently beat out feathery ones.

And to continue our adventures in agriculture, we picked peaches!
I think this is the same shirt I wore apple-picking last year. You'll just have to trust that these are peaches. Lucky for you I don't have any photos from the hours we spent canning the peaches, during which the Widge conveniently napped.

But today we broke from all the farm-related hoopla to go to a state park, which is basically just like a farm, but without the lucrative growing. The Widge was happy, though, because nothing pleases a small boy more than running through the woods.
except cool playgrounds

and the presence of big lakes:

there were lots of boats. I promised Widgie that we'd come ride in one, but there should be two adults: one to keep the boat from tipping, and one to keep the Widge in the boat. Any volunteers for Widge-boat second mate? (Widge obviously being the captain, and I'm the first mate. Your title could be Ship's Pilot, if you prefer)

please also enjoy this photo of a spider web, which, I have been told is "Spider house. Spider live in there."

the plane! the plane!

Took the Widgie to the Udvar-Hazy center today. We spent most of the day, and what we learned there was: they have planes!lots of planes!

In fact we spent the first half-hour marveling over it: a plane! another plane! two planes! another plane!They even had the Enola Gay, which didn't impress the Widge much, other than it being big and shiny. But I shouldn't have been surprised; the Widge's area of military expertise is, of course, the Civil War. We also got to see the space shuttle (I suppose, more accurately its "a space shuttle") but I don't have any photos of that, because the Widgie was asking questions about the rocket thingies in the photo on this page. (these are preschool-style questions, the question part is inferred. His main question was: "Uh oh! Hole!" which translates into: how come theres such a large opening in a device that's expected to survive the trip into space?). I assured him, repeatedly, that Uncle Stan is an actual rocket scientist, and will someday come along to explain the whole spacecraft business. And let me tell you, if you want to get funny looks in public, repeat this phrase to the nearest two-year-old: "Well, see, Uncle Stan is a genuine rocket scientist, so we'll ask him all about this apparatus later on." Its important to put the emphasis on the rocket scientist part.

By the way, Uncle Stan, you'll be happy to know that as soon as we got his toy plane home, i explained pitch, yaw, and roll.

Anyway, we got to indulge our passion for gears as well, by cranking out a pressed penny from one of those machines you see in all the museums.
I've always wondered about these things. Isn't it illegal to destroy legal tender? Anyway, initially we were most impressed by the gears, but when the penny emerged, he was fascinated. Sadly he was wearing shorts with no pocket, but he did allow me to carry the treasure home in my wallet.

We also went up into the observation tower, where we actually saw a real live plane land, which is much more impressive, apparently, the first time you actually see it. No photos of that either, which is a shame, because I'm sure you'd all be impressed with my daring if you saw how high in the air it was, and how there were windows rather than walls between me and the vast outside world. And then, to round out the day, the Widgie saw his very first IMAX!
It was full of planes! Actually he only saw about half of t, before he fell asleep. He held those eyes open as long as he could, but apparently there is nothing so soothing as the roar of F-16s. (There were also B-2s, F-15 and 18s, Harriers, A-10s, A KC-135, AWACS, a U-2, and so forth). I can personally understand, having grown up around the fabulous aircraft. It was fascinating seeing them fly around on the IMAX: they're so darned maneuverable (not the AWACS, per se, but certainly the fighters). Anyway, every single one of you blog readers would have loved it. The Widge would have loved it even more if he had been awake for the part with the firefighters training for runway fires, and the part where they blew up tanks.

Anyway, I highly recommend plane-spotting, it was a nice way to spend the day, certainly a diversion from the perpetually squeaky dog who persists in living here.

and speaking of dogs and planes, hello to the newest family hound!

America Rocks

Go visit Forkland for a solid rant. I especially like the part where he referred to the congressmen as chuckleheads. this is what makes America great (the freedoms, such as the freedom to elect chuckleheads and then refer to them as such, not the chuckleheads themselves. Although arguably the ability to be chucklehead is another thing that makes America great. No matter how much of a chucklehead you are, you aren't getting sent to the gulag for it.)

Also, visit Photos from the Wasteland for some nice fireworks. The Widge loves these pictures.

speaking of the Widge, and also the holiday, he was in a parade!see, thats him in the wagon. Its a kids parade, and basically all the kids in the region assemble at 5th street with their decorated bikes and wagons and strollers, and march the five short blocks up to the courthouse. Why bother? Because theres pizza!
I love this photo. And not just because my thumb makes an appearance (and shockingly not in the lens-covering way that it usually shows up). Widge loved the pizza, which was his second favorite part of the day. His favorite, of course, was the fire truck.
Apparently there aren't too many fires in town, because there seems to always be a fire truck parked in the square for local children to investigate. On the other hand there are also at least three fire houses in the town, or at least the greater town area. And its a little town. Anyway, we also got to hang out with bearded guys:
left to right: Beardo, Widge, Bearded Guy #2. Peter the Great, in an effort to modernize Russia, ordered all the noblemen to cut off their beards, or pa a serious beard tax. If he (Peter) saw a bearded nobleman in the street, the Tsar would hack that facial hair right off, on the spot. In America, you're free to have a beard. So much so that every word in the last sentence was linked to a bearded American (for those of you too smart to click each link). That must be a swell level of freedom for folks who are both capable of and interested in growing a beard. For me, personally, nothing special.

In other news: new sandbox! I made a whole new...well I didn't make it. But I painted the brand new...except the parts that I had help with.Whatever, the point is we have a new sandbox, one so big that all the trucks, shove;s, buckets and the Widgie fit inside simultaneously. its hard to tell in this photo because there aren't any trucks. The one problem we had, as the Widge points out, is that we "need more sand!"

hope you all had a freedom-filled fourth, and are enjoying the simple pleasures of summertime!

happy fourth!

although, honestly, the convention-goers declared independence on July 2nd. The document just didn't get printed up and signed until the 4th. The Revolution, by that time, had been going on for more than a year, which most schoolchildren do not know. If you'd like to learn more, read a book, and try hard to avoid that awful musical (1776), which will just lead you to think poorly of our founding fathers' fashion sense and musical stylings.

if you really want to celebrate America's history, read up on the issues so you'll be ready to vote in November!

Pantless dining

its all the rage in the finest bistros