Not Just a Lover of Dairy

Apparently he also likes a little bling.

(His father is so proud.)

I Like Cheese

I walked into the kitchen and noticed a rather large chunk of colby-jack cheese with a multitude of small bite-marks gnawed off of each and every side. I wondered aloud, "What happened to this cheese?" and was answered by a very happy, very proud, little boy who exclaimed, "I LIKE CHEESE, MOM!"

Of this there can be no doubt.

Hallelujah!

As you read the title of this post, dear reader, please insert the Hallelujah Chorus audio clip in your brain. Because this hallelujah moment is just that big. Huge. Ginormous. The Mt. Everest of moments, really. (And, since I am now singing "hallelujah" over and over again in my brain, I had to look it up: "Hallelujah" literally translated means "praise God"...and that's pretty much what we're doing here.)

Last Monday morning I received some fairly grim news: an external hard drive hooked up to my computer had failed.

Monday afternoon: the grim news escalated into something far worse. The aforementioned hard drive just happened to contain every (oh yeah...every) picture I have taken in the last 3 years. (Please keep in mind that I have a 2 year old.)

Tuesday: Ian tried to "fix" it. I kept trying to convince him to talk to someone...you know, like at Best Buy.

Wednesday: I called my tech-savvy brother. Best Buy = Bad Idea. Probably never going to recover an ounce of data. (This is when I started to cry a little...then debated the logistics of "bargaining" with an all-knowing, miracle-performing Father in Heaven.)

Wednesday afternoon/evening: Called every computer-geeky-smart person I know. Followed this up with some non-bargaining, sincere praying. (Okay...maybe I unconsciously tried to bargain a little. A wee bit.)

Thursday: Our friend, Wade, picked up the accursed box...offering no guarantees.

Thursday, 11:32pm: Received text message stating, "Your drive is fine. It was the case."

HALLELUJAH! And I mean that literally. Because, to be honest, there have been some important goings-on around here the last couple years. You know, like this:

Etc., etc., etc...

(Seriously...Hallelujah!)

Auction Time

We had our annual Cub Scout Cake Auction tonight...the one big cub scout fundraiser for the year. In spite of my debilitating fear of all things Scouting it has long been one of my favorite activities. It's the one time a year I get to try my hand at a different type of creativity. A couple months ago I saw a cake on the cover of a magazine and decided I wanted to try it out. It wasn't easy, but it was a lot of fun.

Here's our family's contribution for 2010:

(This would be before the heat & direct sunlight melted the entire backside off of the cake, of course. Grrr.)

In addition to bringing a cake, the Jones family also has a long-standing tradition of bidding on someone else's creation which has, admittedly, been a little tricky because I'm actually not a very big fan of cake. (Do not fear, my dear Chili's Molten Lava Chocolate Cake...you are not included in that statement.) But this year was a revelation! As I walked into the pavilion I noticed one of my favorite people in the world carrying in these:

That's right, baby...come to mama. These beauties earned a bunch of money for Cub Scouts tonight, folks. And they are totally worth every cent. Mmmmmmmmmm! Thanks, Emily!

(Oh, and in spite of a sagging back-end the watermelon cake did it's job and earned a little funding as well. Thank heavens...I really wasn't going to eat it.)

Apologies

Looking back over the last couple of months, I realized how slothful I've been with my posts. So, please forgive me as I play catch-up...it might get ugly.

Vacation: Fourth of July

One of the best parts of being able to claim dual citizenship is having more than one excuse to celebrate. Not only do we get two turkey days, but July allows us two reasons to celebrate. How many fireworks can one family handle? Apparently a LOT. After the Canada Day festivities, we moseyed on over to my brother's in Montana for the Fourth of July. I soon discovered that Montana is one of those states where the "good" fireworks remain legal. Bliss!

My brother's house is situated on a hilltop overlooking most of the town. Since several other townspeople annually have their own private fireworks display, it meant that we just had to sit back, wrap up in a blanket (what's up with the weather?) and enjoy a couple hours worth of hassle-free fireworks. (Plus, when the kids got tired, we simply took them in the house to bed!) Fabulous!

Lindy & her cousin, Kasen, enjoying the show

Happy Fourth, everyone!

Grandpa

Curtis spent some time this week with one of his very favorite people...Grandpa. (Or as he puts it, "Bumpa".) They each had a lot of things to share with one another.

Grandpa explained the proper function of his decorative water feature.

(In other words, he reminds Curtis not to throw rocks in it or swim in it.)

Curtis explained the proper function of his airplanes.

They watched a little TV together.

And Grandpa taught him about a secondary use for a wheel barrow (thanks, dad).

And Curtis enjoyed every moment. If Grandpa left, Curtis demanded that we "go find him". As we started our drive home, he was seriously put out that Grandpa wasn't coming with us. Poor kid. It took him a while to figure it all out.

Post Edit: 4 days after returning home from our vacation, Curtis is still demanding to go "home". I keep reminding him we are home, only to be told he mean's "Bumpa's" home. Sigh.

Anniversary

We celebrated our 9th anniversary (a few days early) by leaving the kids with grandma and grandpa. It's been a long time since I remember enjoying some peace and quiet.

What a great gift!

Happy anniversary to my other half. Love you!

Vacation: Happy Canada Day, Eh!

Curtis learns about the Canadian Flag from Grandpa

We spent the morning basking in the celebratory glow of a Southern Alberta parade. Well, let me rephrase that...we spent the morning watching a procession of horses, cars, trucks, and trailers throw candy (albeit sparingly) to a hoarde of pushy, disorganized Canadians. With nary a float in sight.

I realized today that tradition is a funny thing. It wakes us up early in the morning to gather together with family members we neither recognize or remember (with one or two exceptions) and sniff the familiar waft of horse manure as it sits on the road and gathers up exhaust fumes. (I feel a little Tevia-like anthem bubbling in my vocal chords...)

But it's in the blood. It's what we do. And, apart from voicing my abundant opinions on what they should do to improve the festivities, I'm sure I will encourage the tradition to continue. Because in spite of it's shortcomings, it's a favorite. It's part of who I am and where I come from.

And besides, did I mention they throw candy? Canadian candy? Awesome. Oh...I mean "Awesome, eh?"