For Man Looketh on the Outward Appearance, [but a Child...]

Gerret remains unphased by his condition. This is still Ironman and he still saves the day.

The View Out My Front Door

Sent from my iPad

Date Night

We've heard about the practice for a long time. Read about it a few times. Tried planning for it a couple times. Implemented it once.
The idea of date night is to allow your children one on one time with one of their parents. To remove them from the hustle and bustle of day-to-day family life, and allow them some intimate time with mom or dad. At it's ideal it helps to forge a more personal bond with the child and parent, giving both the opportunity to open up and talk about different things and become close friends. I think it reinforces to the child that they are an individual and we, as parents, recognize that. It's a message the world is going to be relentless in proclaiming to them and so as parents we want them to know we've always seen them as such and value their individual interests and personalities.
This is the ideal. For a four and three year old, however, I think it's more just about allowing them to feel special because they are getting individual attention, and we allow them to choose any activity their heart desires and to have full participation from mom or dad.
Our boys love it.
So Tuesday night Lindsay took Nolan out to do their thing and I stayed home with Gerret to do his thing. Gerret's thing, it turns out, is building and playing with train trax. It was awesome. We used every building he had and most of the track to construct the largest, most complex train world we could. We had four different trains running at different spots on the track at it's greatest. We also took a break to voraciously tear into some gummy hotdogs and hamburgers for our special treat (do I know the way to his heart or what?).
I love this kid. He's wild and crazy and yet he can be so very perceptive and insightful. He's bursting with energy and eager to be everywhere and once. We had a perfect time and I'm glad we got to spend it together. I think he's glad too.
Pictured here you'll find some photos I took of our date above, and below I've posted Gerret's photo journal of our date.

A Frolic in an Open Wood

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. 

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, 

Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,

I, now [twenty-seven] years old in perfect health begin, 
Hoping to cease not till death. 

From W. Whitman's "Song of Myself"

Going With Me

A sabbath day. Cool and still.
At last clouds swept through the sky.

Our restless hearts crave the cool air.
To brave the outdoors yet again.
We pack our gear. We know the essentials.

To Seneca lake. Pure and deep.
(literally, it's the deepest of the finger lakes and pretty clean)
What sides of her shall we know for the first time.

Brother to brother. Friend to friend.
We work our way along the banks of a giant.

Pausing. Watching. Drinking deep
(the moment, not the water, cause it's clean, but not so much)

The sun begins to set on fair Geneva.
Our paths will kiss, but not cross tonight.

The sun sets on her train yards.
Golden promise at the end of the day.
Hurry home to bed. Good night.
I'll see you tomorrow.

The Trees of Life

There's This Girl

I love to be alone with my wife. Not necessarily alone alone. Just alone as to anyone else to whom we may have duty or obligation. Time with her when all that's pressing is nothing and our minds are free to run the gamut of conversation and possibility together.
After satisfying my eight month need to see this final Harry Potter film we had time together at the park. The bathrooms there looked like something out of a horror movie, but the lake front was nice (at least so long as one looked out beyond the shore...there was kind of a lot of seaweed and filth built up at the shore). It's a beautiful place we live and it's a beautiful thing to share a beautiful place with a beautiful person. Makes for a beautiful memory.
We talked. Swung on the bench swing on the shore. Admired the fact that we can call this area home. Narrowly avoided geese scat. Were yelled at by a lonely man that we were driving the wrong way out of the park (and we were, but let's be honest, if the lane is 20 feet wide, the one-way sign is just a suggestion). And most importantly, we enjoyed seeing our little boys again when all was said and done.
Thanks be to Olivia for a successful first run as our babysitter.

?

I'm not sure what the fire hydrant is hiding from, but he looks pretty scared. I suppose it just goes to show something about how a fire hydrant doesn't belong way out in the middle of the woods anyways.
And to this sign, had anyone else heard about this problem with delinquents bringing their archery equipment into the woods? This is news to me, I feel I've been careless on my hikes, knowing now that I could be in danger of lunatics with archery equipment as I'm out for a stroll.
(Both photos are courtesy of my 3 mile, lunch break hike in heat-index temperatures of 105 degrees. Everyone at work thought I was crazy. I like crazy.)

In the Midst

It's nice to see an explosion of colors and be reminded that whatever we, as man, can create, it stands as nothing against the creations of God. And in the midst of our excessive heat wave (it's a sweltering 90 degrees still at 10:30pm) see that some beauties still thrive.

Speeding Fines Double in Amish Work Zone

Sent from my iPad

When it Comes to Material Goods

When it comes to material goods I must say I've wanted a lot throughout my life. This isn't to say I've purchased everything I've ever wanted (there is no Bugatti in my driveway), but I have sought after and obtained many a temporal artifact. Hundreds of CDs. Hundreds of comic books in my day. Most every video game console ever created during my childhood (except the epic fail that was the Sega Saturn). A lot of camping gear. An iPhone and finally an iPad. This is but a brief summary, but yes my desires have had their day in the sun.
Despite such a lifetime of desires, as I've watched the way Lindsay longs for things I've found a sincerity star kingly absent in my heart. Now, those of you who know Lindsay know she is anything but greedy or worldly. She has desires like the rest of us, but they are simpler and there is just something about them that is purer. She doesn't chase after new music or movies. She doesn't buy up the latest and greatest this or that. No, her desires are larger and more sweeping than that. She often dreams of things that are long lasting and quite . . . I'm not really sure . . . They're just things that go right to the heart of life and lifestyle.
Anyway, I've written this because we so recently acquired, at long last, what Lindsay has longed for since she moved out of her parents house. Her fingers have probably unconsciously groped for it and she slept and dreamed. She's spoken of it often and always with an evident love and good intent. I can't say I've known myself, with all my wants and acquisitions, to have ever wanted something in the same way Lindsay has desired her gift. From the moment it entered our home everything feels changed—improved. So here it is, her new Wurlitzer.
I love you Lindsay.

PS I was so nervous as we picked it up, moved it ourselves, and drove it back to our house. The missionaries and Lindsay's dad helped me move it. I drove pretty slow, so thankfully Kenny led me along back roads. If I had done anything to damage her piano on route (I could feel it near the surface the entire journey) I was ready to burst out in tears. There's just always been something different and special in the way she's wanted her piano.
Sent from my iPad

An Evening at the Park

It's a beautiful thing to be married. Being married means never missing out on a good thing because it's likely that between the two of you, one of you will know what you should do on a given night. Such was tonight and our trip to Lodi Point State Park.
It was my first time. Won't be my last. It was quiet. Beautiful. And rather in the middle of nowhere and that's saying something anymore, coming from me.
Had it been left to me, Family Night would have ended with the lesson and milkshakes, but thanks to my wife we carried on down to the park and to a perfect moment to cap a perfect night (actually the milkshakes afterward really capped it nicely, but this was good too). There's something to be said about places that allow you to meditate on the move—especially if you're a parent. I don't know how this park is all the time, but tonight it was Zen.