Another Helpful Hint

Always trim your toenails right after you get out of the bath or shower.

Hunting is Not Necessarily Finding

On Tuesday morning I woke up before dawn, put on all of my warm clothes, and climbed into the truck with Dad and Brandon. We drove about an hour west of here to National Forest land to an area where we would likely find deer and elk. The temperature was in the low twenties as we donned our orange safety vests, loaded the rifle and began a silent walk up a gated logging road.

The sky was just starting to lighten. The deer and elk are most active at dawn and dusk. We walked about two and a half miles up the frozen road until we came to trail that led up a draw in the forest. There were several tracks and piles of poo on the trail so we knew it was used by the animals.

We climbed up the steep trail about a hundred yards and sat down to wait.

After waiting about twenty minutes, we decided to head back to the truck. It was getting too late to find anything.

We got back in the truck and began the slow drive back to the highway. Brandon had the rifle in the front seat in case we saw anything from the road. As we approached the highway, I saw a cow elk run down the side of the hill, cross the road about 50 yards in front of us and then race across a field to where two other cow elk where waiting. We couldn't shoot her. I was amazed at how large the elk was.

I realized during my first time hunting (at least for animals) that it is a lot like hiking except you wear an orange vest and carry a rifle.

We've heard that many hunters are having a hard time finding anything. The deer and elk are still mostly in the high country.

It's Not Really a Trip to Montana...

...until you get a cracked windshield.

Road Trip 2008 Day Two

Mom and Dad at their 40th anniversary dinner.

Sara and Katie

Brandon

Judy

The kid's table.

Road Trip 2008

We are currently in the midst of our trip to Montana. Here are some photos --

We got an early start. My alarm went off at 5:00. Abigail walked in minutes later.

Aidan in one of his trademark "moods."

The Virgin River Gorge on I-15 in Arizona. We stopped to take photos of the spectacular scenery.

A photo of Tab holding the camera.

The new In-N-Out in Washington City, Utah was a little crowded. It was worth the wait.

We ate our hamburgers in the car.

Here's a photo of a truck-driver walking his very large rottweiler at a rest stop in southern Utah.

We made it to Pocatello, Idaho at about 9:30 Mountain Time. It was a long day in the car. We kept the children occupied so they didn't whine too much. Tab pulled out her lap-top and played Mah Jong for part of the trip. I marvelled at the GPS capability on my iPhone.

Tomorrow we are driving the rest of the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house. It's their 40th anniversary. They must be getting old.

Post Script:

Today is the one year anniversary of Cast Iron Skillet. My posting has slowed down a little from the frenetic pace at the beginning. I'm a little busier at work now so I can't just post willy-nilly. Thank you for reading.

Road Trip 2008

I haven't had a vacation since this time last year. I need a break. I have the next two weeks off. I thought it appropriate to pack the wife and kids in the Jeep and head up to Montana. We leave bright and early tomorrow morning and will drive 800 miles to Pocatello, Idaho. I can't tell you how much I have been anticipating the trip.

I'll post photos as we go. Stay tuned.

That's Not Ironic At All

Let's say you've just posted a photo of your young son wearing only his diaper and your wife's much-too-large-for-him cowboy boots. It's a funny, cute photo that you've saved with the title, "Nearly Naked Cowboy."

And then you get a comment on the post. Comments are a fun way to interact with your readers. I love comments.

But this is someone you don't know. This person has posted a comment under a name like, "Live Nude Ladies" (not the real name).

I'm a curious sort. I think for a moment that this is possibly somebody I know. A name like "Live Nude Ladies" is kind of funny. If they have a blog titled "Live Nude Ladies" that is nothing about live nude ladies -- that's funny. I mean, my blog isn't really about cast iron skillets.

I love funny. I love ironic.

So being a diligent blogger, I follow the trail to the blog "Live Nude Ladies." Much to my surprise, it's a blog of nude ladies. Nude ladies hiding things.

That's not really very funny. At least it's not ironic in any way.

I write a family blog. So I deleted the comment. I don't usually delete comments (I think this was the first time).

The moral of the story is: don't use the words "naked" and "cowboy" in titles of photos of your kid lest someone trolling blogs for references to porn leaves a link leading back to a pornography site.

No Caption Needed

Sometimes I Wonder

Every Monday, Aidan stays home with me. Our day begins when we take Mommy to work and then Abigail to school. Then we come home and watch a little Sprout while Daddy reads the morning papers. Aidan usually uses this time to pull all of the toys out of the toy box and scatter them across the family room floor.

I know I'm supposed to love my children unconditionally. But when I hear "No" for the eighteenth time...

"Get down from the couch."

"No."

"Don't swing the bat in the house."

"No."

"Leave the cat alone."

"No."

You get the picture.

...

We ride in the car and he asks to have the window down. He gets angry and throws his cup. And then cries for his "cuppy." When he doesn't get his way he starts to scream.

I want to punch him in the face. Sometimes.

...

And then tonight after the twelfth tantrum of the day, he snuggles up to me on the couch. I start to think he's a sweetheart.

...

But then it's time for bed. He says he doesn't want his blankets on. And then he asks for his blankets. He says he wants the door open. And then he wants it closed. And then he wants it open part of the way. He wants the light on. He wants the light off.

So I leave the door open with the light on.

I hear him playing in his crib. His imagination bringing his stuffed monkey and lion to life. He talks and talks until finally... I hear nothing.

I look in the bedroom and he's asleep, lying sideways in the crib, his blankets pushed to one side. He looks so innocent and peaceful.

The iPhone

When I first heard about them I wanted one very badly.

I know, I know. I'm a victim of marketing hype.

I decided to wait a while. I coveted the iPhone but by waiting a while I could feel less like a shallow materialist. So I waited.

The first generation iPhone came and went (that thing was really expensive). And then the 3G iPhone came out. Better, faster, cheaper (what's not to love).

But I still waited.

And then one day Tab tells me she wants a new phone to replace her old Razor. We go to the store and buy her a Blackberry. I almost got one but I wasn't eligible for an upgrade yet. So I waited. I can't believe I almost settled for a Blackberry.

I went back a few weeks later. Still not eligible. So I waited some more.

My eligibility date came and went. I continued to wait, proud that I had such strong self-control. And then I folded like a cheap suit.

Now I have to figure the thing out. It does connect with my wireless network at home which is pretty cool.

It's a Little Late...

...but here is proof we actually got rain the other day. I was so happy.

The Big Day

I just returned from casting my ballot. Abigail had been expressing an interest in the election so I decided to take her to the polling place with me. Abigail said she wanted Barack Obama but then she isn't old enough to vote. I think she enjoyed herself.

In the last two elections I felt like my choice was between suicide by shotgun or train. This time around I feel much better about my choice.

Much better.



PS. Sonic Youth flossing ROCK!!!

Conservatives Don't Make Great Art

How many of the great artists were by nature conservative? I mean by disposition and not necessarily politics.

I can't think of any.

Most of the great artists were guys (or gals) living on the margins of society. They ran off to Tahiti, sliced off an ear, drank to much, consorted with drug addicts and prostitutes and generally raised hell.

In other words, not the kind of people you would trust to do your taxes (conservatives make great accountants).

To be a great artist you have to push boundaries. You have to be willing to take risks. You have to be willing to face the scorn of society. Conservative people are usually not willing to do this.

I'll never be a great artist.

What the Floss Did You Say?

I was listening to NPR tonight when they had a story about an upcoming Supreme Court case about the "F" word (FCC vs. Fox). I have to admit that I have been fascinated with the "F" word for some time now.

The "F" word has been around for a long time but didn't really enter into the lexicon in a big way until World War II. It's a word that can be used in every part of speech. It's a noun, a verb, an adjective, and an interjection. NPR couldn't say the word so they substituted "floss" for the nasty word.

I haven't been able to think about anything else since then.

"Go floss yourself ,you mother-flosser."

"Dude, you're flossed."

"Floss you!"

"Get the floss out."

"Floss the world." (for the punk dental hygienists)

And...

..."Want to floss?" (I prefer waxed)

I will never be able to hear "floss" again without snickering. Thanks NPR.

Huh...What!!!

If you really want to wake up a passed-out drunk, tugging on his armpit hairs isn't enough.

You've got to dig your knuckles into his sternum. That'll do the trick.

Just remember to pin his arms down first.