Chuy

Our home has a new resident.

Meet Chuy.

R named him. I picked the spelling . . . in honor of my husband’s favorite Austin restaurant.

Chuy was born on June 21st of last year. His mama was a Black Lab / German Shepherd mix. His daddy was not a purse dog.

He belongs to her.

And he plays with her.

(We love him extra for that.)

He is huge. He is gorgeous. He is sweet and cuddly. He fetches and plays tug of war.

Chuy has the makings of an amazing dog.

He is even helpful.

He helped R put together her floor puzzle.

Except maybe that had something to do with the fact that putting the puzzle together involved snacks.

Mmmm . . . best of all . . . like all good dogs . . . Chuy’s feet smell awesome.

D

Kool-Aid

I did it.

I drank the Kool-Aid.

I did it almost two weeks ago but couldn’t bring myself to admit it publicly until now.

I am now an iPhone® carrying member of society.

I succumbed to the pressure of my husband who when we were on vacation announced to me rather emphatically,  “When we get home we’re getting you a real* phone. I’m tired of not being able to find you when we’re in a store.”

Those of you who are acquainted with my husband know that he rarely speaks with passion or emphasis so when this announcement was made it was clear that he was serious.

A bit of cell phone history . . .

My cell phone philosophy for years revolved around the idea that it was purely a tool for my use and convenience. It was all about me being able to call people when I desired. It had nothing to do with those same people being able to reach me at their whim.

I did modify this philosophy slightly when I started shipping my children out the door to a local government-run educational institution. I mean really, what if one of them falls off the monkey bars and breaks an arm or something? I’d like to know about it sooner rather than later. (This is entirely possible with my son being who he is.)

So I started keeping my 5-year-old, non-picture taking, barely texting, hand-me-down, only works in Anchorage cell phone charged (most of the time) and actually taking it with me when I ran errands (most of the time). It was a huge step.

Clearly I am a slave to the latest and greatest technology.

Which is why I so eagerly agreed to start carrying an iPhone®.

Ha!

Truth:  It is the old model and was on sale for $49.

But now my husband can happily text me or call me when he so desires.

And he’ll get right through on the days I actually turn on the phone.

Thanks for listening,
D

*By real he ment one that would text and work outside of the state of Alaska.

Until Next Year

Today we head home.

So until next year . . .

Good-bye huge and gorgeous oak tree.

Good-bye cows.

Good-bye Maxine.

Good-bye Sam.

Good-bye Sonja.

Good-bye Grannie Pie and PawPaw. (See you in August!)

Good-bye boys . . . I would  pack in my suitcase and take you home with me . . . but my kids received too many Christmas presents . . . and I bought too many books. Never mind the fact that your mama would probably object.

And now for the big one . . . ready?

Good-bye light in the sky at 7:30 a.m.

Sigh. Everyone thinks we spend January in Texas in visit family. Nope. It’s to visit the sun.

(Is anyone else having flashbacks to a certain Margaret Wise Brown board book?)

Heading back to reality,
D

My Boy and His Bugs

Need I say more?

Except perhaps it is a good thing we live in Alaska where most of the bugs are a) not this big and b) relatively harmless.

Oh, and one more thing . . . before being subject to my son’s inspection . . .

after being subject to same child’s inspection . . .

Make note of how many appendages are missing in the second photo.

Trying so hard not to let my phobias influence my bug-lovin’ son,
D

Fishing Preparedness

Wise Alaskans appreciate preparedness.

My children, I am pleased to announce, are actively applying the preparedness lessons they have learned.

(Make a note – that sentence did not include the word “appropriately.”)

For example, one can never predict exactly what one might encounter when fishing. It is, therefore, prudent to anticipate a variety of circumstances.

I’m not exactly sure what my son thought he might encounter this afternoon when he headed out to the tiny little pond on his grandparents ranch to fish for catfish with his father.

Clearly he wasn’t anticipating falling in the pond. Whatever he was expecting I’m assuming he felt prepared.

 

Or at least really, really cool.

I think we’ll revisit the lesson on appropriate flotation devices.

Cheers,
D

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