Vacation Day 1 Addendum

So the car accident was really a very small portion of the day. It was a huge deal. But a small portion.
Our drive down to DC went perfectly. The boys were great. We only stopped once to use a bathroom (until we got to northeast DC and stopped to use a McDonald's restaurant in an area where white people were an attraction, but not for the kind of attention you want). Everything about the drive went less perfectly after we hit DC. We got detoured almost in to Southeast DC because of a parade of half naked women in frilly things. We were less than happy.
Everything went beautifully after we got to the zoo and finally met up with our friends. Included are a few pictures from our time at the zoo (just before the accident). It was an incredibly hot day, but the zoo graciously has installed misting hoses and ice cream. The animals were beautiful. The company of friends was priceless. The queer looks as me and my friend Michael walked out together with two boys the day after New York state legalized same-sex marriage—the best.
The final picture kind of perfectly encapsulated my feelings about the zoo. I'd been so excited about it because I love nature and animals. I hadn't been to a zoo in at least 4 or 5 years. Ultimately though, as soon as we entered I realized that the beauty and wonder of nature just doesn't belong in a city. It doesn't belong in a crowd. It may be impressive, but it can't help but feel tragically out of place.

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Vacation Day 1

Lindsay and a friend were in an accident, but everyone's okay

God is Awesome

How great Thou art.

An Upgrade.

You'll all remember Speed Limit 1.0, yes?

A Lunch Break

I love to get out of the office. I'm not so much cut out for office work. I'm more cut out for exploration and adventure. At least that's what I'd like to think. That's how I feel. These are a few pictures of the creek along which I spent my lunch hour, and the majestic sky that greeted me on my return hike.
Now remember that I work in a Credit Union in the middle of a city, so I take great pride in exploring out places like this within a short hike.

Gerret's Garden

We have a small gazebo off the back porch that we never thought much about. Not until recently when we decided to relocate it to be our chicken coop. We still haven't moved it, but the first time Lindsay really examined it she discovered a sandbox under the floor. That didn't mean much to us as we already have a sandbox out under the trees, but one warm day as he was skipping nap time Gerret grew himself a sandbox garden. You'll notice each lump he planted sprouted a beautiful cut white flower.
Excellent little Pook.

A Beautiful Glorious Minute at the Sprinkler Park

This was last Saturday. Initially we'd intended to come down to Ithaca after I finished work and go have some fun at the Sciencenter, but plans changed. It was fantastic to realize that we are now equidistant between Ithaca and Geneva, which means that a trip into town could be to either at the same cost. Before we were much closer to Ithaca and it was 3-4 times further to Geneva, but no longer. So we opted to go spend the warm day at the sprinkler park on the beach in Geneva.
It wasn't entirely what we'd expected. Gerret fell asleep on the way and didn't wake up until we were leaving. Nolan still struggled a bit with his fever and, as a result, felt cold because his body was so hot. He went in and out of the sprinklers maybe about four times (poor kid) and probably didn't spend more than a combined total of five minutes in them. Oh well. It was fun anyways.
Lindsay went out into the lake at the end, and she had the whole thing to herself. A beautiful idea really.

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Praying

God answers prayers. He doesn't just hear them.
A few weeks ago we began a different approach to family prayer. Rather than simply designate someone in the family to say a prayer, as we kneel down at night we take time discussing the things we ought to thank the Lord for, and perhaps some few things that we might need the Lord's assistance in. We don't coach the boys. Whatever they think of we remember. Sometimes they're grateful for lollipops. Sometimes for friends. Sometimes for Grandma's house. Sometimes they need help to feel better. Sometimes friends need blessings. Sometimes little boys need help not being nervous about preschool.
Once we've talked, one person voices the prayer and we help remind one another of things we've discussed if anyone forgets. It has been great, and just in illustration, Nolan asked, Tuesday night, that God help him go to school for his last day, Wednesday, without being overly nervous. He didn't want a stomach ache. Didn't want to make a scene. Didn't want to be difficult for his mom. We still don't know why he became that way, but maybe he knows and maybe he knew he needed some extra help to overcome his anxiety. He was so sincere in his request and, to our amazement and pleasure, he went to school without a single issue Wednesday morning.
God answers prayers. I know he does. He loves children.

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This Means War

For Father's Day my sons got me a pack of 8 water guns. It was only on accident that I ended up with them before Father's day. To Nolan's credit he tried to keep it a secret, and was doing a great job of it too. Gerret let the cat out of the bag. Spilled the beans. Cut the cheese.
Lindsay and the boys got home after I did Tuesday night and Gerret was asleep. Nolan made sure to call out, as I came out of the house to greet them "don't look in the middle of the seats dada!" I obliged and it slowly leaked out that a Father's day gift was back there. We proceeded about a normal evening with the exception that Gerret only awoke for a whiny half-hour. He was exhausted.
We all retired to our beds not thinking or saying much more about Father's day.
The following morning I was up early as usual. I took the dog out. Put the chickens out. Studied the scriptures. Prayed. It was upon my reentry to the house that a happier, more awake Gerret popped out.
"Surprise dada!"
"Hi bud. How are you?"
"Good."
"Did you sleep good?"
"Yes."(he randomly enunciates very well)
"Are you more rested now?"
"Yes."
Pause.
"We got you water guns!"
So the secret was out. I apologized to Nolan who had been doing so well about the secret and I had a little water gun fight with the boys before work.
Then last night, after dinner, the boys declared that they would rather we have a family water gun fight in place of a bed story. So the four of us stepped outside and went at it. I think the guns were refilled three times. Lindsay even used warm water once. That felt nice. Things slowly escalated between Lindsay and I, as they are wont to do, and she started using cups. Then I used the hose. Then we moved to a large plastic trick or treat pumpkin. Then we were all soaked.
This picture is us after our great bed story replacement.
Viva la water guns.

Ever Passed One of These on the Road?

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The Saddest Tale

The fireflies have come to life in New York. They're a magical sight and one better left to experience than description I think. In any case our story only briefly touches upon fireflies. They are, in fact, the start of the story.
Around 9:30pm my two boys came out of their room all in a buzz about fireflies they'd seen at their window and how they wanted to catch some. We obliged (if you've experienced fireflies you'll understand). We ran out into the yard chasing fireflies with little success. Then Lindsay and the boys realized there were a number of fireflies congregated around our door and porch light, along with about a million other bugs. They spent a few minutes picking them off the door and adding them to Tupperware containers, swatting away the rest of the bugs as they did so. We then went inside, the boys put their tubs of fireflies on the dresser and went to bed.
Everything was normal for about an hour.
Then Gerret came tearing out of his room shouting, crying, and flailing about desperately. I was in the depths of cleaning the fridge at the time so Lindsay went to him and I could just make out comments about something in his pants. Something biting him.
*if you're faint at explicit stories I suggest you turn away now*
Lindsay removed his pants and underwear and began to examine him and I heard her say something about a rash as he still wriggles about, crying, and obviously in some pain—naked from the waste down. It was at that moment, there in the depths of the fridge, that I remembered an experience I had when I was younger.

I woke in a dazed and confused state, as though from an intense, but forgotten dream, and I lifted my pillow. I'm not sure why I lifted the pillow, but I did and there was a large something staring back at me! I slammed the pillow down trying to squash what was there and flailed myself out of bed and into my parents room (I was probably 7 or 8 at the time). As most parents might, they comforted me, took me back into my room, lifted my pillow, showed me there was nothing there, convinced me it was a dream, and sent me back to sleep.
The next morning, as I was making my bed, out of the mess of sheets, blankets and pillows fell a large, dead, praying mantis. It was quite a surreal event. I'd been so convinced it was a dream and all that fell apart before my eyes. The night had been as terrifying as I'd thought.

Now, the event didn't scar me or anything, but I've never forgotten and the memory flooded back upon me and I moved into the living room to examine Gerret. Lindsay was still doing a great job in comforting him and I calmed him enough to ask exactly where it hurt. He motioned expressly to the part of his body that—for the sake of not being too explicit—we'll call his cashew purse. I looked and, while it was red and rash like, there was a particularly red dot that looked not unlike a bite or a sting.
While Lindsay continued to rub his back and comfort him, I began searching his underwear and ultimately turning his pajama pants inside out. There, clinging to the inside of one of the pant legs was a black bug about the size of a quarter (see the picture above). My poor son. This monster must have gotten upon him while he was on the porch collecting bugs and made it's way into his pants and explored his usually restricted areas, the end result of which was a bite or sting right there on his aforementioned. There's not much you can say to a guy to comfort him after being bitten on his aforementioned. So we dabbed some cream on (washing and sanitizing our hands afterwards of course) and put him back to bed.
Today he's in top form and no repercussions (other than the latent insect phobia that's sure to accompany him for life now). And I had closure for my own bug experience from years before. And I'm glad for that experience otherwise I don't know I would have exercised more compassion than I initially had and we may have put his inhabited pants right back upon his wounded loins.
Poor Gerret.

In the Holy Land

We haven't been to the temple in a while. It's hard to do on a regular basis when you have young kids, but we do our best. We almost went last week, but Nolan got sick so we didn't want to leave him in the care of someone else. I miss it. There's a definite clarity and reassurance that we puck up when we go to the temple and it's something we can't get anywhere else. In our longing we decided to go up and just visit the Palmyra Temple and the Sacred Grove after church on Sunday. The plans kind of doubled from there and we ended squeezing ourselves and our friends the Nyre's (eight of us total) into our seven passenger truck. It was quite the trick to get three booster seats to fit in the typically two-seat back bench, but we did it.
The boys were all very good for the drive up and slept most of the drive back. They were a little difficult to manage at the sites though (four young friends out in the woods and fields on a bright day, you can imagine their antsyness). We took them to the temple, walked them around it, let them put their hands on it, and talked about it. We walked (as quietly as one does with four little boys) through the Sacred Grove, meditating as we continually reassured them that we were getting close to a drinking fountain. I love these sites. We toured the Smith homes and appreciated how hard they worked and all they accomplished whilst trying to help Joseph restore the Lord's church. What a dear family they were. I can't visit without longing to have walked alongside them. To have labored on their farm and shared in their experiences, hard as they were. I'm glad I'm not with them though. I'm glad I'm here with my family and can share tender moments like my youngest son falling asleep in my arms as we toured (and he's not eight pounds anymore either).
We finished off our visit by going to an obscure cemetery on top of a hill out the backside of Palmyra. There are only a handful of graves upon the hill, and the one we were to see was apart from any others. Alone against the edge of the hill and in the shade of trees, bushes, and brambles. It was the grave of Joseph Smith's dear brother Alvin. The man Joseph had so looked up to. I had for so long wanted to visit, to pay my respects to the man the prophet so respected, but things always came up. I can now say with a full measure of satisfaction that I have visited his grave, given my thanks for what strength he lent Joseph, and let him know of the love and respect I have for him.
It was a good sabbath.

The 2011 Trumansburg Branch Variety and Talent Show

This past Saturday Trumansburg hosted it's first branch talent/variety show. The entire thing had been organized and put on by the young women (which means Lindsay, her counselor Ashley, and her sister Olivia). For our branch the turnout was pretty good, with way too many cookies, brownies, drinks and giant hamburgers for who was there (yes someone's talent was preparing giant hamburgers . . . think larger than a dinner plate, and loaded with pepper, red pepper, cayenne pepper, Mrs. Dash, and honey).
Some of us in attendance had provided our hobbies/collections, some our visual—while not performable—talents, and others did actually perform. Lindsay and Ashley performed last and did a beautiful piano/vocal duet. It was wonderful to see Lindsay put herself in front of everyone and perform. For those of you who know Lindsay, that's well outside her comfort zone and she did great. She also brought in a few of her water color paintings she's done. She's only really been doing water color for about a year and only in what limited free time she has and she is getting very good. I love seeing her new paintings. They get better each time.
The branch president's wife collects collectible dolls and so she brought the 'rag doll' portion of her immense collection. President Howard said that what they brought represented a tenth of her collection, and yes, it included a vintage (and by vintage of course I mean awesome) rag doll Captain Kangaroo.
President Howard himself brought some of his collectible car figurines, but also told a story that was the only part of the show that entertained the children:

Perhaps 40 years ago, down in the bayous of Louisiana, there was a large house gently tucked away back up in e swamps and out of the minds of the local townsfolk, and they preferred it that way as the house was reportedly haunted. Most would pass their lives and never seek out the house even to glimpse from a distance. In fact, it was usually only brash, young people who ventured near the house, and typically on a dare, which is where our story begins.
Two young men began talking about the home, one as devoutly convinced of it being haunted as the other was convinced it was all a lot of hokum and nonsense. They argued for well over an hour about why it could or could not be haunted before the first boy blurted "If it's not haunted I dare you to stay the night in that house!"
"You put $100 on it and I will." the friend retorted. "There's no such things as ghosts or haunted houses. That stuff is for babies."
So the friends shook on the deal and that night the boy journeyed out to the home, taking along a giant frying pan, a large bucket of grease, a bag of fish and a pack of locally produced ginger beer. He settled into the house and as the sun began to lower in the sky he fired up a—well—fired up a fire actually, in the fireplace and began prepping his fish fry and thinking about how he might spend his $100.
It was right around ten o'clock when there came a faint tapping at the door and it swung open quick as lighting WHOOSH! (you have to imagine our big branch president making hand motions and sound effects in his still slightly tainted southern drawl). In walked a little man no more than three inches tall. He jumped right up on the table, pointed his tiny finger at the young man and cried "Yougonbeeheeahwhinjongesheeah!?"
The young man paused, a little startled at first, then retorted "Man you ain't nothin' but a figment of my imagination. You ain't but a figment." And with that he unceremoniously flicked a bottle cap at him and PUMPFH! knocked him out the window. The young man then went back to humming to himself, at times singing, and enjoying his ginger beer and fish fry.
Around eleven o'clock another, louder knock sounded at the door and it swung open a little slower this time WOWOOOOOSHEEEE! In walked an odd looking dwarfish sort of fellow, no more than three feet tall. He too jumped upon the table, brandished a finger at the young man and asked, " You gon' be heeah when Jon ges heeah?"
Again the young man paused, a little taken aback, but again retorted, almost exasperated, "Man you ain't nothing but a figment." and again he quite unceremoniously chucked an empty ginger beer bottle at the small man effectively knocking him out the window CLONK!
Again the young man settled back down and began singing and eating fish fry and burping as he enjoyed all his ginger beer. He was just beginning to feel he knew exactly how he'd like to spend his $100 when midnight rolled around.
Out on the porch he began to hear a large clank-clunking sound. A dragging, metallic sound was moving closer to the door. This time the door was pounded upon THUD! BANG! SLAM! And it creaked open very slowly. EEEEAAAAAEEEEEEEEKKKKKKAAAAA! Just beyond the doorway stood something large. It was no man. It was no less than eight feet tall and bore chains wrapped over his shoulders and around his arms. The chains hung to the ground and dragged behind him. He was covered in moss and his mouth, which hung ajar, was full of broken and yellowed teeth. Whatever it was slowly clunked and clanged it's way over to the young man before slowly raising a balled fist and then extending one large, moss covered finger to point at the young man who had dropped his ginger beer and fish fry in his lap. "YOU GON' BE HERE WHEN JON GETS HERE?!" the monster bellowed.
The young man jumped up, his head now level with the beasts belly. "Man if you ain't Jon I'm gone!"

So that was the story, though much less well told by me and without sound effects or gestures. President Howard did a great job with it and the boys loved it. They were, at the same time, scared and laughing. Lindsay's dad didn't make it to the activity, but we went to his house after the activity and he had made a giant cookie (it hadn't been finished in time for the activity).

Friday is Fire Day

> As per Nolan's sign that I posted last week, yesterday was Friday and that means fire day at the Mitchell home. It was fun as always, though I purchased Bratwurst this time instead of Kielbasa and I missed the Kielbasa. Oh well, there's always next week.
> You'll notice in one of the pictures that Nolan chose his own stick to roast marshmallows and it's size is a little untraditional.
>

Lindsay had a Birthday

It's funny how these things just keep happening. No matter how long you live your birthdays keep happening at the same interval, and they say you keep getting older. Personally I never really feel old. Does that mean my birthdays don't count? In any case Lindsay's mom and dad made her a cake, dinner, and provided presents to her on Thursday night. They were very nice to her. One of the gifts was a sectional serving platter. Gerret didn't understand what it was at first, but when he finally got the concept that it was for serving multiple different items at once, he got excited and began telling everyone about how the sections could be used for pepperoni noodles, cheesy noodles, and plain noodles.

How'd You Like That?

This guy got in my way on the way home. Once home I remembered I was supposed to meet Lindsay and the boys at the school (10 miles earlier in my drive) 20 minutes earlier, so I quick got changed and took off. Then this bugger got in front of me again. Couldn't believe it.