I Think Our Son Wants To Be David Lee Roth When He Grows Up

Tonight after laying down his head, it quickly popped up and I heard, "I want to be music. I want to play guitar and be rock and roll!" I responded, "Cool buddy! Chicks dig that!" With a smile, his head nestled back into the pillow. Once again, he popped up and said, "When I grow up, I want to be the ice cream truck driver. I'll give ice cream to all my friends!" Wanting to support his dreams I said, "Awesome! Everyone is excited to see the ice cream truck, you would make people so happy!" Sam expanded on this wonderful idea with, "My truck will play "Duh Duh Da, Duh Duh Da Da, Duh Duh Da, Dah Dum." For those who do not recognize it, Smoke On the Water, by Deep Purple. "My truck will be the rock and roll ice cream truck!" The first thing to enter my mind: "I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by. All my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy, yeah." I think David Lee Roth was still with Van Halen when that came out.

Random

Good friends, Jack, Mae, Murdoch.

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The Large Animal Veterinarian just examined the goat and does not feel x-rays are necessary. Whew! I've been sick all day wondering how that would impact our bleak financial situation.
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I think Spongebob Squarepants Cheez-It crackers taste better than plain square ones.

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Random.

36 hours

Here I am, two hours after declaring I'm spent and ready for bed. I took Jack out one last time. He surprised me by breaking free to chase after something. I dove for the leash in time to share retaliation from a skunk. If I look like a mess in this picture, I am a mess. I'm a smelly, soaking wet mess. I've begun at the end of my story and will return to the beginning.

Yesterday, as Dave and I packed up our children to join friends for lunch, we noticed the goat was out again. We weren't happy about, but it didn't worry us because he stays close to the llamas. Just before leaving, Dave took Tazor out one more time. I heard Dave scream, "Tazor No! Tazor Come!" Tazor bit the goat. The poor goat hasn't put weight on it since. The large animal vet wants to take an x-ray, something we cannot afford but need to make it work because it's the right thing to do.

Sunday, the next morning, we were out of toilet tissue, dog biscuits, dog food, eggs, sugar, bread, wine, etc. I braced myself to shop with Sam, it's exhausting. Every isle I remind him to stay visable, don't interfere with people at work or doing their shopping. Often I need to say "People don't want to buy meat (cheese, fruit, fish) with your thumbprint, hands to yourself!" As I waited in the checkout line with a full cart, I made it clear he was to stay seated by the door. I looked away for a second and poof, gone. I found Sam outside after several minutes of search and panic. I'm sure my verbal reprimand made everyone's blood turn cold. I didn't cry until Dave got home hours later. I appoligize for passing judgement on people who leash their children. For years I've avoided outings where I'm outnumbered because I've refused to leash him. I'll be getting one now with Sam Dewey's name on it.

I now return to the end of my story. I friggin stink. After two baths, Jack is tolerable. Maybe my next 36 hours won't suck this much.

"Ee I, Ee I, Oh"

Recently when having to reprimand Mae for unacceptable behavior, her response has been, "Ee I, Ee I, Oh." For Example:

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"Mae, do not dump the dog water!"

Smiling, "Ee I, Ee I, Oh."

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"Mae, stop licking the woodstove-yuk!"

Smiling, "Ee I, Ee I, Oh."

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I've started saying, "Ee I, Ee I, Oh, my ass! I know how cute you are, but some things are not acceptable!"

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Wish me luck with this one, it's not easy stifling a chuckle when faced with Ee I, Ee I, Oh. Damn.

Turning a Corner

Our house selling drama sent me to the pool of depression these past few days. When starting this journey it was reasonable to expect we could walk away owing nothing on the barn and own the Fairfax land free and clear. We planned to build a log home in the woods. We lined up a contractor, paid for a septic design, decided on the log home package and bought building plans. A power easement was arranged and estimates were done by the power company. We even contacted the telephone company for a phone number. Once the barn sold we thought we'd make a few calls and say, "Go!"

Since putting Deweybarn on the market sad details have emerged. The septic failed and needs replacing ($15,000-20,000). The back north corner that we knew needed reinforcement brought a repair estimate of $30,000-50,000. Apparently both front and back walls are leaning (after spending over $10,000 less than 10 years ago to replace the entire front foundation and improve drainage). Presented with these very discouraging developments, we then factor in a change in the housing market. We have tried rolling with it by adjusting our budget and looking at pre-fab homes. Both of us conceded living on that lovely, wooded parcel of land was worth adjusting our original plan.

A few suggestions brought up recently have pulled me out of the depression pool and into a defensive position. My Uncle Buster summarized it well, "You've got a '57 Chevy with a lot of work invested restoring it. It's waiting for the right person to finish it off." Meanwhile, the last two perspective buyers have been interested in building a separate home on the property. One considered the barn for location of a business, planning to build a residence on the western hillside. I find that acceptable, but he viewed the barn over two weeks ago and still no offer. Disrespect for the barn's cool factor puts me in a defensive position, I feel like Soup Nazi from Seinfeld, "No barn for you!"

Presently, I'm working on Dave to put both properties for sale and letting fate decide. Well, fate and my loyalty to the barn. Insulting offers or disrespectful plans equal: "No barn for you!"

Delightful Family Visit

Having family spend the weekend meant the world to us. My Uncle Buster, his partner Sharon, our cousin Jake and his friend Dillon came for the weekend. I don't know if we've ever felt completely free to share our children's energy with anyone before. Dave had to leave for work after they'd been here two hours. He called me less than five minutes into his commute and said, "Can they move up here?"

Sunday morning it felt like I was holding back a bull. Sam Dewey was determined to invade the guest room. "Where are my cousins? Is Uncle Buster up yet? I saw Sharon! They're awake!" I wanted to start breakfast, instead I acted as a barricade to protect our guests from a tornado of Sam energy.

After serving breakfast, I was treated to having my children taken on a long walk. I handed over the bug spray and went back up to bed for a heavenly mid-morning snooze.


We joined our family for a Ben and Jerry's factory tour. This is Sam and Sharon in the deceased flavor cemetery.

Here is Sam being a ham as his cousin's Jake and Dillon pose by their favorite retired flavors.

Uncle Buster and baby Mae enjoying the playground at the Ben and Jerry factory.

Last Day At The Swimming Hole

The week after Labor Day brought temperatures in the 80's. We decided summer's final moments were best spent at the swimming hole. Constantly moving water made visable blocks of clay that had been sifted through the sandy river bottom. Our children enjoyed having their bodies decorated with wet clay. I imagined tribes of long ago similarly decorating their bodies for spiritual rituals.