Well, it sure has been a very long time since I last wrote. Forgive me, I can’t even begin to tell you the stress I’ve been under. And so busy… Anyway, it’s Christmas time again! Yea!
I asked my good friend Santy Claus to come to the store and say hello to the children. He said he would. So we scheduled a photo session with Santa. Then Old Saint Nick called me back and apologized. Mrs. Claus had reminded him that he had already booked a prior engagement. Well, as you can imagine, I wasn’t sure what to do. But kind Mr. Claus explained that sometimes he asks his friends for a little help at Christmas time. He asked if I would dress up in one of his old suits and pretend to be Santa instead. Well, I was put right on the spot, but I reluctantly agreed.
Can I just say that filling in for Santa has reaffirmed my faith in the Christmas Spirit? Seriously, it was so touching to see the smiles of the children. I asked them each what they would like for Christmas, and I didn’t receive one greedy answer. Not one! It was all so simple, like, “I want a dolly,” or, “I want Lincoln logs.”
One little boy wanted a new eye. He was playing with a nativity set and a piece shattered, scattering porcelain dust into his eye. He is now going blind. We took his picture with dark sunglasses on. His family has been fasting and praying for him.
When I asked a little girl what she wants for Christmas, she whispered in my ear, “I want my family to be happy.” I promised her I’d do every thing I can. I took a break shortly thereafter, found a quiet place in the back room, and prayed for her little family. I figure that not even Santa Claus can heal a family, but Christ sure can.
I remember when Santa came to our little ward party to help us remember Christ’s gifts to us. My boys were too sick to go, and they were so disappointed. The next day, Dear Old Santa Claus came to visit our little boys and held them on his knee. I’ll never forget his kindness.
God bless you, Santa Claus! I found out just a little bit what it’s like to wear your shoes. They are awfully big shoes to fill. God Bless all your helpers who keep the Spirit of Christmas every day.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Yelleestone
We went back to Yellowstone yesterday. Had a wonderful time. We spent most of our time in Grand Teton Nat Park. We started at the new visitors center there. It’s really a nice place. They have a video floor that shows rivers and fires and things like that. Pretty cool. We went next to the old General Store and Ferry. We got to take a guided tour from a park ranger. An old couple from Pennsylvania mans the store, where you can still buy stuff and browse through the 1897 Sears Roebuck catalogue. The old store keeper baked us some ginger snaps in the original oven there. They were great. The Ranger gave a great little tour. It usually includes a trip across the river on the ferry, but the river is too low, so the ferry was docked for the season. Still, it was a fascinating insight into the origins of the park. We went on to the old chapel. Gorgeous! Then we traveled on, ate lunch at the base of the Tetons and hiked a little bit. We took our time driving and stopped frequently to take in the view. And what a view! Jenny’s Lake is so amazing! I don’t know if I’ve ever been there. We went on to Yellowstone. On the way, we saw a red fox. He was on an old episode of Sanford & Son. Seriously, the fox was pretty cool. We stopped at the West Thumb Paint Pots. Then we went on to Fishing Bridge. Just before the junction, we spotted a Grey Wolf just off the road. He was hunting mice. We watched him for a while. Then on the bridge, we stopped for a minute to watch a couple of river otters. We went on to the Dragons Mouth and Mud Volcano. I haven’t been there since I was a kid. ElGirlo had never been there. A big herd of Buffalo was blocking the trail to the other features. We went down the road and saw another wolf! Amazing. We also saw a lot of Elk, Trumpeter Swans, a couple of deer, and other things. Our favorite site was The Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. Again, I hadn’t seen it in ages, and ElGirlo had never been there. Absolutely incredible! What a beautiful area. We went to the Lower Falls, and both sides of the Upper Falls. By then, it was dark. We ate and went home. Fantastic trip!
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Reunions
So I mentioned that we went to a couple of family reunions last week.
The first was my family's annual gathering at a little Forest Service cabin in the Island Park area. It is situated at the old fish hatchery on the Warm River where the Warm Springs come gushing out of the mountain. It's near Mesa Falls.
My parents have rented this little place every year for the last dozen years or so and shared it with my siblings and I and our families. It really is a spectacular place. It's so gorgeous up there. The fishing is amazing. The hiking is great. This year my dad brought his 4-wheeler along and I took it out and followed the nearby ATV trail on a 30-mile round trip through some of the most amazing country in the world. The trail follows the old railroad that went to Yellowstone. We always have a great time. ElKiddo caught his 1st fish on the bridge near the cabin this year. Ok, so Daddy mostly caught it, but that's how 2-year-olds catch their first fish, right? ElBoyo caught his first fish a couple of years ago in the creek that runs past the cabin. That's when being a dad is really great.
We left that reunion a bit early to avoid cleanup. Just kidding, we left early to go to ElGirlo's extended family reunion. This is her Mom's siblings and family. It was held at a big church camp in Garden Valley, ID near Boise. It is a beautiful place. Pam's aunt and a cousin put it together this year and did a great job. We went whitewater rafting down the Payette River. It was a run that Pam and I have done many times back when we lived over that way. It was guided by an old friend of ours. So it was fun to do that. The boys had a blast playing with cousins. They made fast friends, and were so so sad to say goodbye. I, of course, already blogged about the trip home, which was wonderful in spite of my gripes.
The way over was also a great time. We stopped in Twin Falls and saw Shoshone Falls. Very beautiful. There, we changed into our Sunday Best and drove to the new temple for the open house. What a priviledge it was to go through the House of the Lord with my wife and children. We were able to go the the Rexburg Temple open house with the boys back in January. We feel so blessed. I remember my folks taking me to the Boise Temple open house back when I was a boy. The Twin Falls Temple had a mural painted in one of the rooms that depicted Shoshone Falls. The boys thought that was pretty amazing after seeing the real thing.
Anyway, we had a great time. It was so nice to get away for a while.
The first was my family's annual gathering at a little Forest Service cabin in the Island Park area. It is situated at the old fish hatchery on the Warm River where the Warm Springs come gushing out of the mountain. It's near Mesa Falls.
My parents have rented this little place every year for the last dozen years or so and shared it with my siblings and I and our families. It really is a spectacular place. It's so gorgeous up there. The fishing is amazing. The hiking is great. This year my dad brought his 4-wheeler along and I took it out and followed the nearby ATV trail on a 30-mile round trip through some of the most amazing country in the world. The trail follows the old railroad that went to Yellowstone. We always have a great time. ElKiddo caught his 1st fish on the bridge near the cabin this year. Ok, so Daddy mostly caught it, but that's how 2-year-olds catch their first fish, right? ElBoyo caught his first fish a couple of years ago in the creek that runs past the cabin. That's when being a dad is really great.
We left that reunion a bit early to avoid cleanup. Just kidding, we left early to go to ElGirlo's extended family reunion. This is her Mom's siblings and family. It was held at a big church camp in Garden Valley, ID near Boise. It is a beautiful place. Pam's aunt and a cousin put it together this year and did a great job. We went whitewater rafting down the Payette River. It was a run that Pam and I have done many times back when we lived over that way. It was guided by an old friend of ours. So it was fun to do that. The boys had a blast playing with cousins. They made fast friends, and were so so sad to say goodbye. I, of course, already blogged about the trip home, which was wonderful in spite of my gripes.
The way over was also a great time. We stopped in Twin Falls and saw Shoshone Falls. Very beautiful. There, we changed into our Sunday Best and drove to the new temple for the open house. What a priviledge it was to go through the House of the Lord with my wife and children. We were able to go the the Rexburg Temple open house with the boys back in January. We feel so blessed. I remember my folks taking me to the Boise Temple open house back when I was a boy. The Twin Falls Temple had a mural painted in one of the rooms that depicted Shoshone Falls. The boys thought that was pretty amazing after seeing the real thing.
Anyway, we had a great time. It was so nice to get away for a while.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Of GPS units and snobby towns
So we just got home from two family reunions (more on that later). The latter one was held at a church camp in Garden Valley, Idaho. That’s up along the Payette River in the mountains north of Boise.
We decided since we were already along that area, we would just go home through the Sawtooths. I mentioned this to a family member who insisted that I borrow his spare GPS system. I politely declined, as I haven’t had the best experiences with nav systems in the past. Yet he persisted, telling me that his GPS was state-of-the art, easy to use, etc, etc… Well, since I didn’t want to buy a map, I accepted.
I instructed the GPS system to guide me to Sun Valley. And it did ok. We traveled through some of the most beautiful country in the world. Going over Galena Summit was seriously breathtaking. I hadn’t been through there since I was a kid.
We pulled into Ketchum about 5:30 pm. That’s when all heck broke loose. Side note: Apparently, my grammar check system is correcting me—that’s when all hecks broke loose. Sider note: Apparently, my spell check system is now correcting me—hecks is not a word. Sidest note: Apparently, sider and sidest are also not words. But I digress.
ElBoyo and ElKiddo both adamantly informed me that they were very hungry. ElGirlo would also have informed me that she was hungry if she had been awake.
I thought well, I’ll just grab some fast food and be on my way. I drove all through town looking for a fast food joint. NONE. So I drove through again looking for a family restaurant. NONE. Finally, I woke up ElGirlo and we parked in downtown Ketchum (not to be confused with Ketchup. ElBoyo asked.) We began walking along looking for a place to grab a bite.
Now please understand that Ketchum has at least a hundred restaurants. But holy cow. They were all the same—little bar & grill or bistro-type places where rich people sit outside on the sidewalk or patio in their fedoras sipping lattes under umbrellas while Vespas and Porches buzz up and down the streets.
Ok. So seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more pretentious place. It was like a myriad of Mariel Hemingway wannabes flashing their money. I don’t mean to sound bitter. I have no qualms with money, but that town reaked of it. I’ve never seen so many yuppies in one place in my life. And seriously, no fast food? I was like a force field designed to keep out normal people.
So we finally asked a local kid if he could point us in the direction of a family restaurant. He suggested the Ketchum Bar & Grill. I politely clarified what a family restaurant means. Apparently, EVERY restaurant in that city has a bar!
We asked if he could recommend anything inexpensive. He gave us a look like we were really weird foreigners, which I have no doubt we are in that town. He directed us to a little bistro on Main Street. We soon found out the restaurant didn’t exist. So we asked another local if he could recommend something. Yes, we were told. Go across the street to the upscale burger bar & grill. They serve burgers and fries for half-price from 4pm to 6pm. One problem. It’s 6 pm. Don’t worry, he tells us, they’ll extend it for you if you tell them I sent you.
At the burger place, I say, “I understand you have a ½-price special.
“Yes. But that’s from 4-6.”
“I see. But it is just after 6, will you extend the special for a few minutes?”
“No.”
“The guy across the street sent me…”
“No.”
“Well, seeing as how I can’t afford $15 burgers, I suppose I’ll go somewhere else.”
“Yeah. Heh, heh… Good luck with that…”
Then I found it. The pizza joint I remember visiting as a years ago. I casual hangout where folks munch on pizza, kick back a few cold ones, and shoot pool. Not exactly family, but it’ll do. At least it’s normal.
Ok, time for another digression. Some of my readers may remember this. Last time I went to this pizza place was about 15 years ago when the band I played in
rolled through town on our way to play the ElkHorn Resort. And when I say “rolled through town,” I mean it literally.
Our beloved leader of the band, a short sixty-plus-year-old white haired gent with a full white beard (known affectionately as Papa Smurf), was driving the bus, a beat-up old jalopy that resembled the Partridge Family-mobile. Well, not surprisingly, the brakes went out on this bus just as we were descending the hill leading to Ketchum. We rolled right through town, ran a few red lights, and came out the other side of town miraculously unscathed. We were able to slow down enough to pull into a campground outside of town a few miles to await repair.
The campground was a little dull, so a friend and I hitch-hiked into town, ended up at the pizza joint and shot pool most of the evening. We hitched back with some hippies who were VERY high. Quite a fun little experience.
Anyway, back to the story. Am I boring you yet?
ElGirlo, the boys, and I walked into the pizza joint, which had now transformed into this posh place cloned from every other uppity-up eatery in town. I was floored. But I was hungry. The boys saddled right up to the bar. I asked the bar tender if there are no fast-food placed in town. Sorry, no. Any family restaurants? Nope. We just want to get back on the road, I tell him. Is there anything to grab and go? Happily, he sells us some pre-made pizza slices to go and charges us an arm and a leg, which by now we were all too happy to pay.
We finally roll out of town after an hour delay in yuppie-ville.
But, here’s the problem.
The GPS unit is wigged out from me driving all over town to find a bite. After turning left and turning right more times than I can count, we headed out of town. The GPS was happy with where we were going apparently, but I got a little nervous as the road narrowed and I noticed we were the only car on it. Before I realized it, the pavement ended and we found ourselves on a narrow winding dirt trail overlooking a 1000-foot straight drop to the canyon below with no hope of turning around. Did I mention how much I love GPS units? State of the art? State of what art? For the record, I don’t need help getting lost. I’m quite capable of that myself.
After finally finding a small space to turn around, I turned the accursed Nav system off, found a map and went happily on my way past the “Unwelcome to Ketchum: Normal People Prohibited” sign.
We decided since we were already along that area, we would just go home through the Sawtooths. I mentioned this to a family member who insisted that I borrow his spare GPS system. I politely declined, as I haven’t had the best experiences with nav systems in the past. Yet he persisted, telling me that his GPS was state-of-the art, easy to use, etc, etc… Well, since I didn’t want to buy a map, I accepted.
I instructed the GPS system to guide me to Sun Valley. And it did ok. We traveled through some of the most beautiful country in the world. Going over Galena Summit was seriously breathtaking. I hadn’t been through there since I was a kid.
We pulled into Ketchum about 5:30 pm. That’s when all heck broke loose. Side note: Apparently, my grammar check system is correcting me—that’s when all hecks broke loose. Sider note: Apparently, my spell check system is now correcting me—hecks is not a word. Sidest note: Apparently, sider and sidest are also not words. But I digress.
ElBoyo and ElKiddo both adamantly informed me that they were very hungry. ElGirlo would also have informed me that she was hungry if she had been awake.
I thought well, I’ll just grab some fast food and be on my way. I drove all through town looking for a fast food joint. NONE. So I drove through again looking for a family restaurant. NONE. Finally, I woke up ElGirlo and we parked in downtown Ketchum (not to be confused with Ketchup. ElBoyo asked.) We began walking along looking for a place to grab a bite.
Now please understand that Ketchum has at least a hundred restaurants. But holy cow. They were all the same—little bar & grill or bistro-type places where rich people sit outside on the sidewalk or patio in their fedoras sipping lattes under umbrellas while Vespas and Porches buzz up and down the streets.
Ok. So seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more pretentious place. It was like a myriad of Mariel Hemingway wannabes flashing their money. I don’t mean to sound bitter. I have no qualms with money, but that town reaked of it. I’ve never seen so many yuppies in one place in my life. And seriously, no fast food? I was like a force field designed to keep out normal people.
So we finally asked a local kid if he could point us in the direction of a family restaurant. He suggested the Ketchum Bar & Grill. I politely clarified what a family restaurant means. Apparently, EVERY restaurant in that city has a bar!
We asked if he could recommend anything inexpensive. He gave us a look like we were really weird foreigners, which I have no doubt we are in that town. He directed us to a little bistro on Main Street. We soon found out the restaurant didn’t exist. So we asked another local if he could recommend something. Yes, we were told. Go across the street to the upscale burger bar & grill. They serve burgers and fries for half-price from 4pm to 6pm. One problem. It’s 6 pm. Don’t worry, he tells us, they’ll extend it for you if you tell them I sent you.
At the burger place, I say, “I understand you have a ½-price special.
“Yes. But that’s from 4-6.”
“I see. But it is just after 6, will you extend the special for a few minutes?”
“No.”
“The guy across the street sent me…”
“No.”
“Well, seeing as how I can’t afford $15 burgers, I suppose I’ll go somewhere else.”
“Yeah. Heh, heh… Good luck with that…”
Then I found it. The pizza joint I remember visiting as a years ago. I casual hangout where folks munch on pizza, kick back a few cold ones, and shoot pool. Not exactly family, but it’ll do. At least it’s normal.
Ok, time for another digression. Some of my readers may remember this. Last time I went to this pizza place was about 15 years ago when the band I played in
rolled through town on our way to play the ElkHorn Resort. And when I say “rolled through town,” I mean it literally.
Our beloved leader of the band, a short sixty-plus-year-old white haired gent with a full white beard (known affectionately as Papa Smurf), was driving the bus, a beat-up old jalopy that resembled the Partridge Family-mobile. Well, not surprisingly, the brakes went out on this bus just as we were descending the hill leading to Ketchum. We rolled right through town, ran a few red lights, and came out the other side of town miraculously unscathed. We were able to slow down enough to pull into a campground outside of town a few miles to await repair.
The campground was a little dull, so a friend and I hitch-hiked into town, ended up at the pizza joint and shot pool most of the evening. We hitched back with some hippies who were VERY high. Quite a fun little experience.
Anyway, back to the story. Am I boring you yet?
ElGirlo, the boys, and I walked into the pizza joint, which had now transformed into this posh place cloned from every other uppity-up eatery in town. I was floored. But I was hungry. The boys saddled right up to the bar. I asked the bar tender if there are no fast-food placed in town. Sorry, no. Any family restaurants? Nope. We just want to get back on the road, I tell him. Is there anything to grab and go? Happily, he sells us some pre-made pizza slices to go and charges us an arm and a leg, which by now we were all too happy to pay.
We finally roll out of town after an hour delay in yuppie-ville.
But, here’s the problem.
The GPS unit is wigged out from me driving all over town to find a bite. After turning left and turning right more times than I can count, we headed out of town. The GPS was happy with where we were going apparently, but I got a little nervous as the road narrowed and I noticed we were the only car on it. Before I realized it, the pavement ended and we found ourselves on a narrow winding dirt trail overlooking a 1000-foot straight drop to the canyon below with no hope of turning around. Did I mention how much I love GPS units? State of the art? State of what art? For the record, I don’t need help getting lost. I’m quite capable of that myself.
After finally finding a small space to turn around, I turned the accursed Nav system off, found a map and went happily on my way past the “Unwelcome to Ketchum: Normal People Prohibited” sign.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
A Day Off
FINALLY!!!! I had a day off. It was wonderful. I've been fixing up a really old rubber raft before and after work this last week. This raft is so so so old. My dad bought it I think about 17 or 18 years ago for $200, which was a song then. The guy selling it was retiring it. It was worn out then. My family and I used it and used it on the rivers around here, especially the stretch of the Snake River between Hoback Junction and Alpine, WY, where all the whitewater is.
About 6 or 7 years ago, Mom & Dad decided they were through rafting. The boat was so old and full of holes, they were going to throw it away. But, they offered the boat to us, saying if I can make it sea-worthy, it's ours. We were living in Boise at the time. I put a lot of work into it, patching it up, and so forth. We floated the Payette River, the Boise, and the Snake with it. But, it still leaks in spite of my best efforts.
We haven't had the boat out in a couple of years (too busy, it leaks, etc.) But, I thought I'd like to work on it again this week. I did some research and got the idea that paint-on truck bed liner could help patch up some holes. I tried it and...it worked! YAY!
We decided to float the whitewater stretch for my 1st day off in almost a month. But, due to circumstances beyong my control, we weren't able to go. Intstead, I fixed up an old rowing frame with a little help from my brother and a lot of help from my wife and a super lot of help from my dad. I got some oars for it, and got a little electric trolling motor off ebay. We packed up the kids and my brother and his kids joined us.
We floated down the Snake River from Beaver Dick Park to Menan. It was extremely slow moving water, so we were very glad to have the rowing frame and motor. But, the kids had a great time, and so did we. I had no idea how beautiful that country back in there is! We were the only outfit on the river. We saw several deer, a moose, several bald eagles, several golden eagles, and lots of water fowl. The trip was seriously amazing (with the exception of the swarms of mosquitos). That is probably the most beautiful stretch of river I've ever been on.
By the time we got out (it was about a four hour trip), the boat had lost some air. But I know how to fix it, and I think it will be better than ever soon.
I was rowing when we got to the take-out boat ramp. We almost missed it, so ElGirlo jumped out to pull the boat in. The water was very cold and over her head. Also, the slow-moving Henry's fork had already merged with the fast-moving South fork, so the river was swift. It took Pam by surprise. But then, our two-year-old ElKiddo jumped in after her! He had been begging to get in the water all day. The current started sweeping him downstream. Very scary!!! But, a quick-thinking ElGirlo caught him. I think no one was more shocked than ElKiddo. He didn't expect how cold that water would be. I'm just so glad he's safe! We had already had a close call with my brother's oldest when she was swimming and ended up underneath the boat. Scary.
But, in all, we had a great day.
About 6 or 7 years ago, Mom & Dad decided they were through rafting. The boat was so old and full of holes, they were going to throw it away. But, they offered the boat to us, saying if I can make it sea-worthy, it's ours. We were living in Boise at the time. I put a lot of work into it, patching it up, and so forth. We floated the Payette River, the Boise, and the Snake with it. But, it still leaks in spite of my best efforts.
We haven't had the boat out in a couple of years (too busy, it leaks, etc.) But, I thought I'd like to work on it again this week. I did some research and got the idea that paint-on truck bed liner could help patch up some holes. I tried it and...it worked! YAY!
We decided to float the whitewater stretch for my 1st day off in almost a month. But, due to circumstances beyong my control, we weren't able to go. Intstead, I fixed up an old rowing frame with a little help from my brother and a lot of help from my wife and a super lot of help from my dad. I got some oars for it, and got a little electric trolling motor off ebay. We packed up the kids and my brother and his kids joined us.
We floated down the Snake River from Beaver Dick Park to Menan. It was extremely slow moving water, so we were very glad to have the rowing frame and motor. But, the kids had a great time, and so did we. I had no idea how beautiful that country back in there is! We were the only outfit on the river. We saw several deer, a moose, several bald eagles, several golden eagles, and lots of water fowl. The trip was seriously amazing (with the exception of the swarms of mosquitos). That is probably the most beautiful stretch of river I've ever been on.
By the time we got out (it was about a four hour trip), the boat had lost some air. But I know how to fix it, and I think it will be better than ever soon.
I was rowing when we got to the take-out boat ramp. We almost missed it, so ElGirlo jumped out to pull the boat in. The water was very cold and over her head. Also, the slow-moving Henry's fork had already merged with the fast-moving South fork, so the river was swift. It took Pam by surprise. But then, our two-year-old ElKiddo jumped in after her! He had been begging to get in the water all day. The current started sweeping him downstream. Very scary!!! But, a quick-thinking ElGirlo caught him. I think no one was more shocked than ElKiddo. He didn't expect how cold that water would be. I'm just so glad he's safe! We had already had a close call with my brother's oldest when she was swimming and ended up underneath the boat. Scary.
But, in all, we had a great day.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Boys Night Out
Well, I've been working almost every day this month, on account of the new store opening. I won't be at the new store (at least not yet), but I'm helping get it ready. So I've worked every day off that I have. Leaves little time for family, and less time for a blog. Yesterday, ElGirlo took the Young Women up to Girls Camp. She left the boys with my brother and his family to watch for the day. I got off work and the boys were there to meet me. We decided to have a boys night out.
We went to DI & Sportsman's Warehouse (a couple of my favorite stores), then we ate out. Then we went to a movie. We saw Speed Racer. It was so fun. I remember watching the original cartoon when I was a kid, so seeing the movie was a blast. "Go Speed Racer...Go Speed Racer...Go Speed Racer, Go!"
By the way, don't judge me too harshly. The movie had a few moral flaws in it. I didn't know that. The girl at the theater said it was very appropriate for ElBoyo & ElKiddo. Not that it was the worst movie ever, but I wish Hollywood would crank out more movies that have no embarrassing elements at all. What's so difficult about that? But I digress. It was a really fun night. We went shopping afterward, and had a great time together. Driving home, Elkiddo said, "I love you, Daddy. And I like you, too." ElBoyo chimed in, "I love and like you too, Daddy!"
I love my boys. I like them too. I need more nights out with my best mates.
We went to DI & Sportsman's Warehouse (a couple of my favorite stores), then we ate out. Then we went to a movie. We saw Speed Racer. It was so fun. I remember watching the original cartoon when I was a kid, so seeing the movie was a blast. "Go Speed Racer...Go Speed Racer...Go Speed Racer, Go!"
By the way, don't judge me too harshly. The movie had a few moral flaws in it. I didn't know that. The girl at the theater said it was very appropriate for ElBoyo & ElKiddo. Not that it was the worst movie ever, but I wish Hollywood would crank out more movies that have no embarrassing elements at all. What's so difficult about that? But I digress. It was a really fun night. We went shopping afterward, and had a great time together. Driving home, Elkiddo said, "I love you, Daddy. And I like you, too." ElBoyo chimed in, "I love and like you too, Daddy!"
I love my boys. I like them too. I need more nights out with my best mates.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Daddy's Day
Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there. That's all I have time to post. I'm very busy with work lately. I'm pretty much going through most of June without a day off. Very tired. Hope all is well with all ya'll.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Underwear Issues
Last night, ElKiddo put clean underwear on before bed. He had a string hanging out of them. We found some scissors and cut it off. We went to bed. A few minutes later, he found another loose string, and came into our room to ask us to cut that off too. We did. We asked him to close and lock our door on his way back to bed. He said, “But Mommy, I can’t lock your door! What if I have more UNDERWEAR ISSUES??”
Tonight he said his prayers. He asked the Lord, “and please help us that our dreams won’t be too scary. I mean, maybe our dreams could be happy or something. Yeah, maybe we could dream that we’re on a train. Or maybe we could just see a train in our dreams. Well, at least help us dream about trains. Oh yeah, and please help me to not have underwear issues.”
Tonight he said his prayers. He asked the Lord, “and please help us that our dreams won’t be too scary. I mean, maybe our dreams could be happy or something. Yeah, maybe we could dream that we’re on a train. Or maybe we could just see a train in our dreams. Well, at least help us dream about trains. Oh yeah, and please help me to not have underwear issues.”
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Dear ElGuyo
Since I started this blog, I’ve had an insane amount of mail from all over the world. I thought I’d take some time to answer a few emails.
Dear ElGuyo,
I love your blog. You really sound like a weird guy. I noticed that most of your blog entries are about motor vehicles. Are you obsessed with cars and motorcycles?
Sincerely,
Blog Reader in Detroit
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your email. I’m glad you enjoy my blog. If you think I’m weird, you should look at yourself. I mean, you read my blog. Don’t you have anything better to do? No, I’m not obsessed with automobiles. I’ve just had a few recent experiences with them.
Dear ElGuyo,
Are you really as lazy as you sound in your blog?
-Hans, East Germany
Dear Hans,
Yes.
Dear ElGuyo,
I’ve been reading your blog for several weeks now. I just can’t get over your name. I mean, what kind of a name is ElGuyo?? I don’t believe that’s your real name. I think you made it up. What are the odds of a dude named ElGuyo marrying a chick named ElGirlo? What gives?
Yours truly,
Ruth, Deluth
Dear Ruth,
Nothing gets past you! You’re right. My real name is not ElGuyo. That’s actually my e-name. I chose this pseudonym to disguise my real name in case any deranged lunatics out there might start reading this blog and decide to stalk me or something. I’ve been stalked twice, and neither time was a pleasant experience. I would have called ElGirlo ElGallo since gal jives with guy. The problem is, ElGallo and ElGuyo would be pronounced the same way. Then if we were ever in a busy airport and someone recognized one of us and called out, “Hey ElG-I-O!” we wouldn’t know who they were calling out to. The real issue here, Ruth, is you. I mean, is Ruth your real name? Ruth from Deluth?? Sounds a little fishy.
Dear ElGuyo,
All I do is read your blog over and over. I’ve become obsessed with you. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t take it anymore. If I ever find out who you are, I must kill you to put an end to it all!
Love,
Deranged in New Delhi
Dear Deranged,
This is why I write under a pseudonym!
Dear ElGuyo,
Mega dittos from the Midwest! I agree that Hillary is a feminazi freak, but the alternative—Obama—is a communist wacko. I think despite our misgivings about McCain, we conservatives need to rally behind him so we can fight liberalism!
-Buck, Colorado
Dear Buck,
I’m afraid you have me confused with “ElRushbo.”
Dear ElGuyo,
When are you going to grow up, get serious about life, and put an end to this blogging nonsense?
-Disappointed in Idaho
Dear Disappointed,
Thanks for the concern, Dad. Can I borrow a hundred bucks?
Well, that’s all the time I have for now. Keep those emails coming!
Dear ElGuyo,
I love your blog. You really sound like a weird guy. I noticed that most of your blog entries are about motor vehicles. Are you obsessed with cars and motorcycles?
Sincerely,
Blog Reader in Detroit
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your email. I’m glad you enjoy my blog. If you think I’m weird, you should look at yourself. I mean, you read my blog. Don’t you have anything better to do? No, I’m not obsessed with automobiles. I’ve just had a few recent experiences with them.
Dear ElGuyo,
Are you really as lazy as you sound in your blog?
-Hans, East Germany
Dear Hans,
Yes.
Dear ElGuyo,
I’ve been reading your blog for several weeks now. I just can’t get over your name. I mean, what kind of a name is ElGuyo?? I don’t believe that’s your real name. I think you made it up. What are the odds of a dude named ElGuyo marrying a chick named ElGirlo? What gives?
Yours truly,
Ruth, Deluth
Dear Ruth,
Nothing gets past you! You’re right. My real name is not ElGuyo. That’s actually my e-name. I chose this pseudonym to disguise my real name in case any deranged lunatics out there might start reading this blog and decide to stalk me or something. I’ve been stalked twice, and neither time was a pleasant experience. I would have called ElGirlo ElGallo since gal jives with guy. The problem is, ElGallo and ElGuyo would be pronounced the same way. Then if we were ever in a busy airport and someone recognized one of us and called out, “Hey ElG-I-O!” we wouldn’t know who they were calling out to. The real issue here, Ruth, is you. I mean, is Ruth your real name? Ruth from Deluth?? Sounds a little fishy.
Dear ElGuyo,
All I do is read your blog over and over. I’ve become obsessed with you. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t take it anymore. If I ever find out who you are, I must kill you to put an end to it all!
Love,
Deranged in New Delhi
Dear Deranged,
This is why I write under a pseudonym!
Dear ElGuyo,
Mega dittos from the Midwest! I agree that Hillary is a feminazi freak, but the alternative—Obama—is a communist wacko. I think despite our misgivings about McCain, we conservatives need to rally behind him so we can fight liberalism!
-Buck, Colorado
Dear Buck,
I’m afraid you have me confused with “ElRushbo.”
Dear ElGuyo,
When are you going to grow up, get serious about life, and put an end to this blogging nonsense?
-Disappointed in Idaho
Dear Disappointed,
Thanks for the concern, Dad. Can I borrow a hundred bucks?
Well, that’s all the time I have for now. Keep those emails coming!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
can't...plant...transplant...pant...
Friday night, ElGirlo met me at work and we went to the temple. It was the new Rexburg Temple. Very beautiful. On our way, she told me of her plans to transplant 9 trees the next day—3 trees for us and 3 each for two of our neighbors.
I asked ElGirlo if she realized how difficult it would be to transplant those trees. I don’t think she did. At about 11:30 that night, we mapped out where we wanted to put the trees.
We awoke early Saturday morning and began digging in the…well, I can’t say dirt…we began digging in the rocks. Yep. There were many more rocks than dirt. Not fun, as some of the rocks were as big as my head. (And let me tell ya, I have a big head!) Anyway, we dug and dug, but mostly dislodged rocks. Backbreaking work.
One of the neighbors decided they didn’t have time to transplant that day. O.k. The other neighbor asked us to help them dig their 3 holes. We got there in the late afternoon after digging in our yard all day. Happily, their yard had a good layer of topsoil on it, and digging theirs was cake compared to ours.
We finally got out to the house of the nice folks who were giving the trees away at about 4pm. That’s when the real work began. We dug out two big plum trees with humongous root balls. The biggest one was over 10 feet tall! ElGirlo had described it as about 6 feet. I had told her a 6 foot tree might be too big for us. Yeah. That tree was a beast.
The neighbors who were helping us weren’t much help. He was recovering from back surgery, so he couldn’t lift a finger. She worked as hard as she could, but is suffering from several illnesses that make pushing herself too hard very dangerous. She pushed herself too hard. We got a bit worried when she just about passed out.
Thankfully, ElGirlo’s dad came to the rescue. He helped us dig the trees out. Or I should say, we helped him dig the trees out. He was a ball of energy. ElGirlo & I were exhausted from digging all day. Heck, it’s Thursday and I’m still exhausted! Father-in-Law really saved our aching bums. Our tree was so heavy we had to pull it out with his engine jack.
Back at home, we got the tree off the trailer by wrapping a tow rope around the root ball and pulling with a truck. Heavy.
We only ended up getting 2 trees, one for us, one for the neighbors. We figured we didn’t have the strength to get any more.
ElGirlo plans to go back today. I don’t know if she will or not.
Me? I gotta go to work. Yippee!
I asked ElGirlo if she realized how difficult it would be to transplant those trees. I don’t think she did. At about 11:30 that night, we mapped out where we wanted to put the trees.
We awoke early Saturday morning and began digging in the…well, I can’t say dirt…we began digging in the rocks. Yep. There were many more rocks than dirt. Not fun, as some of the rocks were as big as my head. (And let me tell ya, I have a big head!) Anyway, we dug and dug, but mostly dislodged rocks. Backbreaking work.
One of the neighbors decided they didn’t have time to transplant that day. O.k. The other neighbor asked us to help them dig their 3 holes. We got there in the late afternoon after digging in our yard all day. Happily, their yard had a good layer of topsoil on it, and digging theirs was cake compared to ours.
We finally got out to the house of the nice folks who were giving the trees away at about 4pm. That’s when the real work began. We dug out two big plum trees with humongous root balls. The biggest one was over 10 feet tall! ElGirlo had described it as about 6 feet. I had told her a 6 foot tree might be too big for us. Yeah. That tree was a beast.
The neighbors who were helping us weren’t much help. He was recovering from back surgery, so he couldn’t lift a finger. She worked as hard as she could, but is suffering from several illnesses that make pushing herself too hard very dangerous. She pushed herself too hard. We got a bit worried when she just about passed out.
Thankfully, ElGirlo’s dad came to the rescue. He helped us dig the trees out. Or I should say, we helped him dig the trees out. He was a ball of energy. ElGirlo & I were exhausted from digging all day. Heck, it’s Thursday and I’m still exhausted! Father-in-Law really saved our aching bums. Our tree was so heavy we had to pull it out with his engine jack.
Back at home, we got the tree off the trailer by wrapping a tow rope around the root ball and pulling with a truck. Heavy.
We only ended up getting 2 trees, one for us, one for the neighbors. We figured we didn’t have the strength to get any more.
ElGirlo plans to go back today. I don’t know if she will or not.
Me? I gotta go to work. Yippee!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Bean Jar
The last couple of months, the boys have worked hard to fill up a little jar full of beans. They earn beans by behaving well, doing work around the house, and so forth. When the bean jar is full, they get to choose a fun activity to go do. The bean jar is full. They wanted to go to Yellowstone Bear World. We had a great time. We'd never been before. We went this afternoon. With it being Wednesday, and threatening to rain, we essentially had the park to ourselves. That was nice because we got to take it at our own pace. We were riding the rides afterward when we learned that the folks running the rides were bear-keepers. As we were talking, they offered to let us pet the little black bear cubs. So cool! Here's a little video:
A solution!
So I thought of a solution to the question of whether or not I should share my book on the blog. (See the post "Writing" below.) I won't post to the blog. Instead, I'll upload each chapter to Google Docs. Then, if you would like, I'll invite you to view it online. That way I keep it protected, but I can still share with all ya'll. I'll upload a chapter every couple of weeks or so, then we'll have time to discuss each one and I can edit accordingly Just email me if you'd like to read the book. My email address is at the top of the blog.
The Thought that Forgot
There once was a thought that forgot
It forgot quite a bit, quite a lot.
It forgot to occur
So it thus stayed obscure
In the mind of the thinker who thought.
The thinker once started the thought,
But stopped when the thought came to naught.
“It must be quite trivial, this thought that I got,”
Said the thinker who misplaced the thought.
But this thought unimportant was not
And it lost its great place in the plot
Of the world’s allegory,
That wonderful story
Comprised of each remembered thought.
“Remember,” I tell every thought,
“Don’t let yourself ever get caught
Forgetting to come
To the mind of someone.
Just give it your best thinking shot.”
If ever you find yourself caught
Unable to finish a thought,
Put regret to a halt
It isn’t your fault.
You’ve just had a thought that forgot.
It forgot quite a bit, quite a lot.
It forgot to occur
So it thus stayed obscure
In the mind of the thinker who thought.
The thinker once started the thought,
But stopped when the thought came to naught.
“It must be quite trivial, this thought that I got,”
Said the thinker who misplaced the thought.
But this thought unimportant was not
And it lost its great place in the plot
Of the world’s allegory,
That wonderful story
Comprised of each remembered thought.
“Remember,” I tell every thought,
“Don’t let yourself ever get caught
Forgetting to come
To the mind of someone.
Just give it your best thinking shot.”
If ever you find yourself caught
Unable to finish a thought,
Put regret to a halt
It isn’t your fault.
You’ve just had a thought that forgot.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Writing (#3, Pastime Series)
I’ve started this blog entry several times now. I start it, erase it, and start again. I blame this, partially, on writer’s block. I blame it mostly on the fact that I’m still not sure I want to publicly reveal this part of me. Fear of rejection? Perhaps. This falls into a category of hobbies that I enjoy, but have no idea if I have any aptitude for. In short, I like to write.
Of course, I write this blog, which is to me a public journal. But the kind of writing I’m talking about is fiction. Some who know me well might be surprised to learn that I enjoy writing. It is not a face that I wear in the open. Like my blog, the fiction I write is really aimed inward—toward myself. It’s a kind of therapy. I’m amazed sometimes at the way hopes, dreams, fears, and philosophy can come together on the printed page. For me, it’s a way of coping with my shyness, and expressing myself indirectly. Did I mention how vulnerable I feel writing this?
The novel I’m working on was born of a dream—the kind of dream that makes plenty of sense, until I try to explain it. Then I realize it’s all gibberish. But I decided to make it make sense. So a story built up around it. It’s probably a lousy story. It probably still makes no sense, but I enjoy writing it. I enjoy it, even though it’s a hopelessly romantic tale, the kind of book I’d never read. Ironic, eh?
I have no doubt the novel would never win any literary prize. I’d be astounded if it were ever even published. It needs a good editor. I’m sure by intellectuals’ standards, the book is trash. But then, I’ve read too many books that were acclaimed by the snobbish world of English graduates that I thought were pitiful. How is it that some of these books make the NY Times bestseller list?
On the other hand, I’ve read many other works that have touched me deeply. They were skillfully written, with style and grace, signifying their respective authors’ brilliance—a brilliance I could never hope to approach.
But again, I write for me. And if someone else enjoys it, all the better. I just don’t expect it, that’s all.
I have toyed a long time with the idea of posting chapters of my book to this blog. Honestly, I could use some critical opinion. But, I’m still wondering if I’m ready to expose myself so candidly. I also worry about sharing an unfinished work in public domain. But, like this blog motivates me to continue journal writing, I think posting my unfinished book might motivate me to keep writing it. It might help to bounce ideas off other folks.
What do you think? Should I post the first chapter?
Of course, I write this blog, which is to me a public journal. But the kind of writing I’m talking about is fiction. Some who know me well might be surprised to learn that I enjoy writing. It is not a face that I wear in the open. Like my blog, the fiction I write is really aimed inward—toward myself. It’s a kind of therapy. I’m amazed sometimes at the way hopes, dreams, fears, and philosophy can come together on the printed page. For me, it’s a way of coping with my shyness, and expressing myself indirectly. Did I mention how vulnerable I feel writing this?
The novel I’m working on was born of a dream—the kind of dream that makes plenty of sense, until I try to explain it. Then I realize it’s all gibberish. But I decided to make it make sense. So a story built up around it. It’s probably a lousy story. It probably still makes no sense, but I enjoy writing it. I enjoy it, even though it’s a hopelessly romantic tale, the kind of book I’d never read. Ironic, eh?
I have no doubt the novel would never win any literary prize. I’d be astounded if it were ever even published. It needs a good editor. I’m sure by intellectuals’ standards, the book is trash. But then, I’ve read too many books that were acclaimed by the snobbish world of English graduates that I thought were pitiful. How is it that some of these books make the NY Times bestseller list?
On the other hand, I’ve read many other works that have touched me deeply. They were skillfully written, with style and grace, signifying their respective authors’ brilliance—a brilliance I could never hope to approach.
But again, I write for me. And if someone else enjoys it, all the better. I just don’t expect it, that’s all.
I have toyed a long time with the idea of posting chapters of my book to this blog. Honestly, I could use some critical opinion. But, I’m still wondering if I’m ready to expose myself so candidly. I also worry about sharing an unfinished work in public domain. But, like this blog motivates me to continue journal writing, I think posting my unfinished book might motivate me to keep writing it. It might help to bounce ideas off other folks.
What do you think? Should I post the first chapter?
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Yellowstone
The ElFamilia went to Yellowstone Park yesterday. We saw a lot of wildlife, including a couple of newborn bison calves. One little calf was walking down the middle of the highway with its parents. We stopped to take a picture, but Daddy Buffalo got a little cranky. So we left in a hurry. We were sprayed by a geyser that was next to the trail. I don’t think it usually erupts as big as it did. Then, the geyser right behind the trail erupted and sprayed us too. The trip was awesome. We had a great time.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
A Little Piece of Heaven
ElGirlo posted this to a family website:
So there are days that the kids drive me crazy, and coming up with effective discipline techniques is a nightmare. Then there are moments that just completely make it all worth it, and I realize what amazing sweet little people I have the opportunity to know and raise.
Thursday evening we had one of those beautiful times. We had gone to IF to run a few errands, and we were just about ready to head back home when the boys asked if we could go to the temple. We agreed, and took them over to the temple grounds and walked around a bit before taking them through the visitor's center. The boys always love it when we drive by the temple. ElKiddo always gets really upset when we are out of visual range and he can't see the temple any more. Anyway, so as we were walking around he just kept looking up at the temple with big eyes saying over & over, "I tan't bleeve it! I tan't bleeve it!" It was so sweet.
Then we went into the visitor's center, which they have just remodeled in the past year or so, and they put in a Christus statue. A sister missionary greeted us at the door. She was so sweet, and directed all of her comments to the boys. She brought us over by the Christus statue and asked if they would like to hear Jesus talk to them. We listened to the presentation, and afterward the missionary shared her testimony with the boys. She told them that she knows that Jesus lives, and that he loves us very much. ElBoyo jumped in, "I know that too!" After she was done talking with them, she asked if they would like to go up & touch the statue of Jesus. They spent some time walking around and feeling the statue. ElKiddo kept trying to reach up and touch Jesus's hand, but he wasn't big enough. I lifted him up and he tenderly put his hand in Jesus's hand. Then he reached out his arms to both sides and said, "Like Jesus!" I said, "Yeah, doesn't it look like he wants to give you a big hug?" Immediately, ElKiddo squirmed down and went up to the statue and gave Jesus a big hug and said, "I love Jesus!" For the next 10 minutes or so both ElBoyo & ElKiddo stayed there giving Jesus hugs and repeating, "I love Jesus!" There were other people there smiling and watching them quietly. We tried to move on to see the other displays, but ElKiddo didn't want to leave Jesus. As we were leaving he said, "Don't go! I wann stay here."
It was just really sweet to see that they could feel the spirit and recognize that they were in a really special place. Just wanted to share that with you.
So there are days that the kids drive me crazy, and coming up with effective discipline techniques is a nightmare. Then there are moments that just completely make it all worth it, and I realize what amazing sweet little people I have the opportunity to know and raise.
Thursday evening we had one of those beautiful times. We had gone to IF to run a few errands, and we were just about ready to head back home when the boys asked if we could go to the temple. We agreed, and took them over to the temple grounds and walked around a bit before taking them through the visitor's center. The boys always love it when we drive by the temple. ElKiddo always gets really upset when we are out of visual range and he can't see the temple any more. Anyway, so as we were walking around he just kept looking up at the temple with big eyes saying over & over, "I tan't bleeve it! I tan't bleeve it!" It was so sweet.
Then we went into the visitor's center, which they have just remodeled in the past year or so, and they put in a Christus statue. A sister missionary greeted us at the door. She was so sweet, and directed all of her comments to the boys. She brought us over by the Christus statue and asked if they would like to hear Jesus talk to them. We listened to the presentation, and afterward the missionary shared her testimony with the boys. She told them that she knows that Jesus lives, and that he loves us very much. ElBoyo jumped in, "I know that too!" After she was done talking with them, she asked if they would like to go up & touch the statue of Jesus. They spent some time walking around and feeling the statue. ElKiddo kept trying to reach up and touch Jesus's hand, but he wasn't big enough. I lifted him up and he tenderly put his hand in Jesus's hand. Then he reached out his arms to both sides and said, "Like Jesus!" I said, "Yeah, doesn't it look like he wants to give you a big hug?" Immediately, ElKiddo squirmed down and went up to the statue and gave Jesus a big hug and said, "I love Jesus!" For the next 10 minutes or so both ElBoyo & ElKiddo stayed there giving Jesus hugs and repeating, "I love Jesus!" There were other people there smiling and watching them quietly. We tried to move on to see the other displays, but ElKiddo didn't want to leave Jesus. As we were leaving he said, "Don't go! I wann stay here."
It was just really sweet to see that they could feel the spirit and recognize that they were in a really special place. Just wanted to share that with you.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Biker Dude (#2, pastime series)
I plan to attend a motorcycle rally tomorrow. A reasonable person might expect a motorcycle rally to be filled with eccentrics in Harley shirts and leathers, with long beards, shaved heads, handlebar mustaches, and tattoos. And, sure, you get some of that. But most folks that go to these things are nerds. Like me. In fact, there are so many geeks, nerds, dweebs, and wierdos that show up that if not for the presence of the bikes, one could mistake the event for a Star Trek convention.
The truth is, the typical Hell’s Angel ain’t so typical anymore. We’re talking doctors, lawyers, and folks like that. At one time, four pharmacists I worked with rode their bikes to work. We’d park all five bikes together, making our little drug store look like a biker bar.
It doesn’t matter who is riding. There is an unspoken camaraderie between motorcyclists. We watch out for each other. For instance, we always stick our left hand out in greeting to other bikes on the road. If a group is riding formation, they’ll typically allow others to join. Riding bikes is dangerous—not usually because bikers don’t know what they’re doing (though there is some of that), but because other motorists don’t watch out for bikers. So we have to watch out for each other.
Thus the motorcycle rally tomorrow. It’s an awareness rally—an annual reminder to folks to watch out for bikes; we share the road. A couple of years ago, my parents were hit by a carload of teenagers playing game called, “how many stop signs can we run without hitting someone.” My parents were the unlucky answer to that question. The Valkyrie they were riding was knocked into the oncoming lane of traffic, and they ended up underneath a truck that hit them.
By all accounts, they should be dead. In fact, Dad’s hearts stopped 3 or 4 times on the way to the ER. He had over 20 broken bones, if I remember right. His has been a long, hard recovery. At least he’s alive. The bike wasn’t so lucky. However, I spoke to Dad this morning and he’s ready to buy a new bike. He gets knocked down, but he gets up again. That’s the true biker spirit. I guess if riding kills you, you die living. Personally, I can’t think of a better way to go.
I ride a Kawasaki Vulcan Classic 1500. It’s very cool, not to mention the first vehicle I’ve ever owned that wasn’t entirely embarrassing. When the weather cooperates, I ride it just about everyday to and from work—and just about everywhere else. I even ride in the cold. There’s nothing like the easyrider feeling of being free on two wheels. It’s even better with my sweetheart’s arms wrapped around my waist. Also, I love to ride with my riding partners, my dad and brother. We share the passion.
Well, I guess I’d better get some sleep so I can be refreshed and ready for tomorrow. I’d hate to miss the Star Trek convention…I mean motorcycle rally.
The truth is, the typical Hell’s Angel ain’t so typical anymore. We’re talking doctors, lawyers, and folks like that. At one time, four pharmacists I worked with rode their bikes to work. We’d park all five bikes together, making our little drug store look like a biker bar.
It doesn’t matter who is riding. There is an unspoken camaraderie between motorcyclists. We watch out for each other. For instance, we always stick our left hand out in greeting to other bikes on the road. If a group is riding formation, they’ll typically allow others to join. Riding bikes is dangerous—not usually because bikers don’t know what they’re doing (though there is some of that), but because other motorists don’t watch out for bikers. So we have to watch out for each other.
Thus the motorcycle rally tomorrow. It’s an awareness rally—an annual reminder to folks to watch out for bikes; we share the road. A couple of years ago, my parents were hit by a carload of teenagers playing game called, “how many stop signs can we run without hitting someone.” My parents were the unlucky answer to that question. The Valkyrie they were riding was knocked into the oncoming lane of traffic, and they ended up underneath a truck that hit them.
By all accounts, they should be dead. In fact, Dad’s hearts stopped 3 or 4 times on the way to the ER. He had over 20 broken bones, if I remember right. His has been a long, hard recovery. At least he’s alive. The bike wasn’t so lucky. However, I spoke to Dad this morning and he’s ready to buy a new bike. He gets knocked down, but he gets up again. That’s the true biker spirit. I guess if riding kills you, you die living. Personally, I can’t think of a better way to go.
I ride a Kawasaki Vulcan Classic 1500. It’s very cool, not to mention the first vehicle I’ve ever owned that wasn’t entirely embarrassing. When the weather cooperates, I ride it just about everyday to and from work—and just about everywhere else. I even ride in the cold. There’s nothing like the easyrider feeling of being free on two wheels. It’s even better with my sweetheart’s arms wrapped around my waist. Also, I love to ride with my riding partners, my dad and brother. We share the passion.
Well, I guess I’d better get some sleep so I can be refreshed and ready for tomorrow. I’d hate to miss the Star Trek convention…I mean motorcycle rally.
ElTrucko
And now—more news on the car saga…
When we first moved back to ElTowno, we took our little Nissan king cab 4X4 pickup, aka ElTrucko, in to see the car doctor to have it’s head examined. You see, after years of abuse, ElTrucko was having…issues. It was determined that poor little ElTrucko needed brain surgery. One head gasket, several man-hours of labor, and a thousand dollars later, we took ElTrucko home, happy to be rid of its behavioral problems.
But it was not to last.
Not 5 months later, ElTrucko’s mental instability returned—this time with a vengeance. How sad we were for ElTrucko, the poor little thing. Depression and anger were manifest in black smoke and loud outbursts. Even after much coercion, ElTrucko refused to run properly, choosing instead to brood darkly in the driveway. The doctor of machinery, alas, did not back up his work. Another surgery was not economically feasible at the time. We parked ElTrucko alongside the north end of the house and left it to rest from its turmoil for a season.
We looked far and wide for a replacement vehicle. Ok, so not very far, and not very wide. It so happened that my brother was keen to get rid of his beast of a van. I bought it for $300. To say it needed work would be, well, accurate. It was worth about $300. The back hatch had to be propped up by an old broomstick. The ignition was missing, so it had to be started with a screwdriver. The alignment was more than slightly off. The gas mileage was about 10 miles/gallon. It stalled regularly, usually in the middle of intersections. The teal green paint reminded us of Scooby-Doo’s Mystery Machine.
Ok, so it wasn’t a luxury vehicle. But what can you expect for $300?
Personally, I thought it was a good deal. We figured if it would get us through the winter, we’d be good to go. We’d then fix up ElTrucko and get on with life.
With my dad’s help, I was able to fix most things on the van. I installed a new ignition, new struts for the back hatch, and a new air filter. That took care of most of the problems. It hasn’t stalled much at all since then.
And, oh, it’s lasted us much longer than the winter. Unless you consider the fact that it is now April and we are still experiencing snowstorms, so technically, is winter really over? This is so depressing, I might go brood darkly in the driveway. But I digress.
After we laid ElCarro to rest last month, we decided to give ElTrucko the surgery she needed. We shoveled her out of the mountain of snow she was buried under. (Note to self: don’t park a car on the north side of the house during winter.) It took a few hours to pull her out. We found another surgeon. We learned that the timing chain had eaten into the casing. Not good. Alas, ElTrucko’s damage was irreversible (without paying more than ElTrucko is worth.)
Not a week after ElCarro’s death, we hollowed out a grave next to it in the salvage yard and buried ElTrucko.
We’ll miss ElTrucko every bit as much as ElCarro. She was a wonderful little truck.
When we found her, we had looked and looked for a small truck. We couldn’t find anything we wanted in our price range.
One day, in desperation, we went home to our tiny one-bedroom apartment in the basement of a protestant church and prayed for help finding a decent truck at a decent price. We were astonished when we went back outside to find the perfect answer to our prayers parked right in our driveway with a “for sale” sign in her window. We bought her from the regional director of the church we rented from.
We went on many adventures with ElTrucko. She wasn’t very fast, but she’d go just about anywhere. And we took her just about everywhere. No wonder she was so depressed when she got sick. No doubt she missed our little adventures. We did too.
Today we have a lovely little Nissan sedan that actually works, is comfortable, and even has air conditioning. We have a $300 tithing van that might actually last us another winter. But we can’t help but feel a little nostalgic as we drive past Intermountain Auto Recycling and remember ElCarro and ElTrucko, buried side by side in a mountain of mechanical trash. May they rest in peace.
When we first moved back to ElTowno, we took our little Nissan king cab 4X4 pickup, aka ElTrucko, in to see the car doctor to have it’s head examined. You see, after years of abuse, ElTrucko was having…issues. It was determined that poor little ElTrucko needed brain surgery. One head gasket, several man-hours of labor, and a thousand dollars later, we took ElTrucko home, happy to be rid of its behavioral problems.
But it was not to last.
Not 5 months later, ElTrucko’s mental instability returned—this time with a vengeance. How sad we were for ElTrucko, the poor little thing. Depression and anger were manifest in black smoke and loud outbursts. Even after much coercion, ElTrucko refused to run properly, choosing instead to brood darkly in the driveway. The doctor of machinery, alas, did not back up his work. Another surgery was not economically feasible at the time. We parked ElTrucko alongside the north end of the house and left it to rest from its turmoil for a season.
We looked far and wide for a replacement vehicle. Ok, so not very far, and not very wide. It so happened that my brother was keen to get rid of his beast of a van. I bought it for $300. To say it needed work would be, well, accurate. It was worth about $300. The back hatch had to be propped up by an old broomstick. The ignition was missing, so it had to be started with a screwdriver. The alignment was more than slightly off. The gas mileage was about 10 miles/gallon. It stalled regularly, usually in the middle of intersections. The teal green paint reminded us of Scooby-Doo’s Mystery Machine.
Ok, so it wasn’t a luxury vehicle. But what can you expect for $300?
Personally, I thought it was a good deal. We figured if it would get us through the winter, we’d be good to go. We’d then fix up ElTrucko and get on with life.
With my dad’s help, I was able to fix most things on the van. I installed a new ignition, new struts for the back hatch, and a new air filter. That took care of most of the problems. It hasn’t stalled much at all since then.
And, oh, it’s lasted us much longer than the winter. Unless you consider the fact that it is now April and we are still experiencing snowstorms, so technically, is winter really over? This is so depressing, I might go brood darkly in the driveway. But I digress.
After we laid ElCarro to rest last month, we decided to give ElTrucko the surgery she needed. We shoveled her out of the mountain of snow she was buried under. (Note to self: don’t park a car on the north side of the house during winter.) It took a few hours to pull her out. We found another surgeon. We learned that the timing chain had eaten into the casing. Not good. Alas, ElTrucko’s damage was irreversible (without paying more than ElTrucko is worth.)
Not a week after ElCarro’s death, we hollowed out a grave next to it in the salvage yard and buried ElTrucko.
We’ll miss ElTrucko every bit as much as ElCarro. She was a wonderful little truck.
When we found her, we had looked and looked for a small truck. We couldn’t find anything we wanted in our price range.
One day, in desperation, we went home to our tiny one-bedroom apartment in the basement of a protestant church and prayed for help finding a decent truck at a decent price. We were astonished when we went back outside to find the perfect answer to our prayers parked right in our driveway with a “for sale” sign in her window. We bought her from the regional director of the church we rented from.
We went on many adventures with ElTrucko. She wasn’t very fast, but she’d go just about anywhere. And we took her just about everywhere. No wonder she was so depressed when she got sick. No doubt she missed our little adventures. We did too.
Today we have a lovely little Nissan sedan that actually works, is comfortable, and even has air conditioning. We have a $300 tithing van that might actually last us another winter. But we can’t help but feel a little nostalgic as we drive past Intermountain Auto Recycling and remember ElCarro and ElTrucko, buried side by side in a mountain of mechanical trash. May they rest in peace.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Gramma Jo
Eventful week. I took some time off work Monday through Wednesday to visit Gramma Jo before she died. We missed her by a day.
So we ended up just getting stuff done during those days. El Kiddo had his second birthday on Monday. We had not anticipated being home for his birthday, so we had no plans for a party. Just before we were set to finish making the cake (a cool volcano cake with dinosaurs on it), some neighbor kids came over to play. We invited them to stay, and called over other neighbor children. We had an impromptu party with so many people in attendance that we didn’t even have room for everyone. That was fun.
We took the trip to see Gramma Friday through Sunday instead. Of course, we only saw her ashes. We drove across the state Friday and stayed with wonderful friends that night. Thanks, Chicken Kurt and Suzanne! We had a great time there. Then we went the rest of the way to Weiser, Idaho (near the Oregon border) for the memorial service Saturday.
My dad is the only one of Gramma’s 4 children who is active in the LDS church. Gramma herself was inactive most of the time I knew her. Then one day, after her husband’s death, she decided it was time to turn that around. She worked hard to stop smoking and start living the gospel. Church leaders, home teachers, visiting teachers, and family members prayed faithfully for her and encouraged her. I’ll never forget the day she returned to the temple with us. Oh happy day!
Gramma Jo had health problems for many years before her death. She suffered long and hard. I’m so glad she can finally rest. I hope I was able to adequately express my thanks to her good bishop who was also her home teacher for many years. The man gave many hours of selfless service and went out of his way to help Gramma. He truly understood his Aaronic Priesthood duty to watch over the widows.
It was good to attend her memorial service in a chapel full of mostly non-religious people. I sang with my wife and brothers a couple of songs that she requested—How Great Thou Art and “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”
We stayed Saturday night with ElGirlo’s cousin and her husband in Boise. We had other cousins over and had a great time playing games long into the night. After attending Sacrament meeting Sunday morning at Cousin’s ward, we went home. It’s good to be home.
So we ended up just getting stuff done during those days. El Kiddo had his second birthday on Monday. We had not anticipated being home for his birthday, so we had no plans for a party. Just before we were set to finish making the cake (a cool volcano cake with dinosaurs on it), some neighbor kids came over to play. We invited them to stay, and called over other neighbor children. We had an impromptu party with so many people in attendance that we didn’t even have room for everyone. That was fun.
We took the trip to see Gramma Friday through Sunday instead. Of course, we only saw her ashes. We drove across the state Friday and stayed with wonderful friends that night. Thanks, Chicken Kurt and Suzanne! We had a great time there. Then we went the rest of the way to Weiser, Idaho (near the Oregon border) for the memorial service Saturday.
My dad is the only one of Gramma’s 4 children who is active in the LDS church. Gramma herself was inactive most of the time I knew her. Then one day, after her husband’s death, she decided it was time to turn that around. She worked hard to stop smoking and start living the gospel. Church leaders, home teachers, visiting teachers, and family members prayed faithfully for her and encouraged her. I’ll never forget the day she returned to the temple with us. Oh happy day!
Gramma Jo had health problems for many years before her death. She suffered long and hard. I’m so glad she can finally rest. I hope I was able to adequately express my thanks to her good bishop who was also her home teacher for many years. The man gave many hours of selfless service and went out of his way to help Gramma. He truly understood his Aaronic Priesthood duty to watch over the widows.
It was good to attend her memorial service in a chapel full of mostly non-religious people. I sang with my wife and brothers a couple of songs that she requested—How Great Thou Art and “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”
We stayed Saturday night with ElGirlo’s cousin and her husband in Boise. We had other cousins over and had a great time playing games long into the night. After attending Sacrament meeting Sunday morning at Cousin’s ward, we went home. It’s good to be home.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
School
ElBoyo started High School this week. Exceptionally bright 4-year-old? I think so. But that’s not why he’s attending ElTowno High School 3 times a week. The child development course offers a 5-week preschool for five dollars. Five weeks. Five bucks. Regular price, five bucks, five bucks.
ElBoyo was excited and scared his first day, Tuesday. He knew the neighbor girl would be there, but he was afraid someone else would sit by her. (I think he has a thing for the neighbor girl. Hey, who can blame him? She’s a cutie!)
He got there, and to his delight, practically the whole neighborhood turned out. All his friends from church were there. This is good, because now ElGirlo can carpool the kids to preschool.
ElBoyo had a ball (literally, they played with balls in the gym). He thinks he’s so cool now that he goes to school. I agree, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that! The pressures of High School are bad enough without him getting a big head!
ElBoyo was excited and scared his first day, Tuesday. He knew the neighbor girl would be there, but he was afraid someone else would sit by her. (I think he has a thing for the neighbor girl. Hey, who can blame him? She’s a cutie!)
He got there, and to his delight, practically the whole neighborhood turned out. All his friends from church were there. This is good, because now ElGirlo can carpool the kids to preschool.
ElBoyo had a ball (literally, they played with balls in the gym). He thinks he’s so cool now that he goes to school. I agree, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that! The pressures of High School are bad enough without him getting a big head!
Friday, April 4, 2008
The Kite Runner (#1, Pastime Series)
Balloons flying
Children sighing
What a day to go kite flying
Breeze is cool
Away from school
Cowboys fighting out a duel
Time seems to stand quite still
In a child's world it always will
-Moody Blues
I read a short story a few years ago by W Somerset Maugham. It was about a boy who went to the park each Sunday and flew kites with his parents. He got to be pretty good. It became such an obsession that when he grew up and married, it interfered with his marital relationship. I recently read The Kite Runner. That was about a boy who was so obsessed with flying kites that he sacrificed his dignity and integrity to win a kite running contest. I am not that obsessed with kite flying. Thank heavens. In fact, it’s something that I do very casually. I only write about it first in my pastime series because it’s been on my mind recently. What can I say? I have spring fever.
ElGirlo and I bought a really cool kite several years ago. It has no frame. I can just roll it up and put it in my pocket. And it flies pretty well. The thing I love most about flying it is seeing ElBoyo and ElKiddo get so excited as it becomes just a dot in the sky. Once, we even saw an airplane fly below the kite. That’s fun. What’s not fun is reeling the kite in. That’s work. I found a solution.
I rigged up a spool holder on my cordless drill. It does most of the work for me. It reels that kite in pretty fast. That’s important when you have the kind of wind we have here in Idaho. It lifts you up, and never lets you down. We had such a wind 2 years ago when ElGirlo was expecting ElKiddo. ElBoyo and I dropped ElGirlo off at the ObGyn, and then went to the nearby park to catch a breeze. The idea was for ElGirlo to call us when she was done. I let the kite out halfway to heaven, tied it to a post, and ElBoyo and I played together.
Pretty soon, we saw ElGirlo coming our way. Walking. She was approaching her due date, so I became a bit nervous and started reeling the kite in. It took forever! The wind was ElStrongo! When ElGirlo approached, she told us that the doctor said she could have the baby any minute. She had tried to call, but my dumb cell phone didn’t ring. So, she decided to walk. It might help her go into labor, anyway. It did.
I couldn’t reel that kite in fast enough! Thank the winds of fortune the labor was a false alarm. That’s the day I invented the drill spool.
I noticed this week in the store that we are selling an 8 foot kite. Looks wicked bad. I wonder how high it will go before it becomes a dot in the sky?
Children sighing
What a day to go kite flying
Breeze is cool
Away from school
Cowboys fighting out a duel
Time seems to stand quite still
In a child's world it always will
-Moody Blues
I read a short story a few years ago by W Somerset Maugham. It was about a boy who went to the park each Sunday and flew kites with his parents. He got to be pretty good. It became such an obsession that when he grew up and married, it interfered with his marital relationship. I recently read The Kite Runner. That was about a boy who was so obsessed with flying kites that he sacrificed his dignity and integrity to win a kite running contest. I am not that obsessed with kite flying. Thank heavens. In fact, it’s something that I do very casually. I only write about it first in my pastime series because it’s been on my mind recently. What can I say? I have spring fever.
ElGirlo and I bought a really cool kite several years ago. It has no frame. I can just roll it up and put it in my pocket. And it flies pretty well. The thing I love most about flying it is seeing ElBoyo and ElKiddo get so excited as it becomes just a dot in the sky. Once, we even saw an airplane fly below the kite. That’s fun. What’s not fun is reeling the kite in. That’s work. I found a solution.
I rigged up a spool holder on my cordless drill. It does most of the work for me. It reels that kite in pretty fast. That’s important when you have the kind of wind we have here in Idaho. It lifts you up, and never lets you down. We had such a wind 2 years ago when ElGirlo was expecting ElKiddo. ElBoyo and I dropped ElGirlo off at the ObGyn, and then went to the nearby park to catch a breeze. The idea was for ElGirlo to call us when she was done. I let the kite out halfway to heaven, tied it to a post, and ElBoyo and I played together.
Pretty soon, we saw ElGirlo coming our way. Walking. She was approaching her due date, so I became a bit nervous and started reeling the kite in. It took forever! The wind was ElStrongo! When ElGirlo approached, she told us that the doctor said she could have the baby any minute. She had tried to call, but my dumb cell phone didn’t ring. So, she decided to walk. It might help her go into labor, anyway. It did.
I couldn’t reel that kite in fast enough! Thank the winds of fortune the labor was a false alarm. That’s the day I invented the drill spool.
I noticed this week in the store that we are selling an 8 foot kite. Looks wicked bad. I wonder how high it will go before it becomes a dot in the sky?
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Hobbies
I don’t particularly enjoy work. You could call me lazy. Frankly, you could call me a lot of things. I prefer “recreationally inclined.” Not that I’m work averse. I recognize the matchless value of work. It builds character, secures society’s infrastructure, strengthens individuals, and yields an invaluable sense of satisfaction. You can’t get anything done without working. I just don’t like to.
I think I first realized my distaste for work when I was very young. I was assigned the cardinal chores that all kids born of goodly parents are given—taking out the trash, vacuuming, doing the dishes, cleaning the toilets (this was my least favorite), and so forth. I also had the blithesome opportunity to help my real estate-attached parents clean up their sordid rentals after disreputable tenants moved out. Often this occurred after a distressful eviction. Mom & Dad’s tenants often left enough trash behind to turn the apartments into something that resembled the city dump. The leftover odors alone could bring tears to the eyes and bile to the kisser. For 5-year-old me, this was a traumatizing experience.
I don’t blame my parents. In fact, I really respect them. They did their best to teach me the value of hard work. They were—and are—very hard-working people. To hear them tell it, they worked much harder than I did when they were young. They even had to walk barefoot 3 uphill miles in deep snow each day to and from child-labor sweatshops where they worked 18 hours a day for a nickel a week. This nickel could either buy a head of cabbage or a ticket to the movies. Of course, they had families to feed, so cabbage got preference. This, too, was very traumatizing for 5-year-olds, but they lived in an age when people kept stiff upper lips. I guess I’m just a wimp.
Incidentally, wimpiness is the kind of thing one has to admit to when one is exertionally challenged. If one doesn’t admit to such things, one creates more work for oneself. Allow me to explain. Imagine if you will that the lawn needs a good trim. (This is not a problem at my home, as I figure putting in a lawn is way too much work.) A recreationally inclined person, such as myself, would rather be fishing. Naturally, the novice would begin immediately by making excuses. This is a big no-no. Coming up with good excuses is hard work. What’s more, an inexperienced or careless excuse-maker might cause more work for himself by actually fulfilling the excuses. It is so much easier to simply concede, “Oh well, I guess I’m just a wimp.” Let the fishing begin! (Note: This is less effective when a wife is present.)
In all seriousness, I believe in hard work…when I have to…I guess. Sometimes, I even take work seriously—a little too seriously. This is why I have hobbies. Hobbies take the edge off (and when you have as many rough edges as I do, this is a very desirable thing). My problem is I have a few too many hobbies. (I just took up blogging.) I just love having fun too much. Ok, that was a joke; nobody can have too much fun. But my diversions divert each other, and I can’t seem to master anything. Having so many hobbies is expensive and time-consuming, but who’s complaining? I love my hobbies.
Since hobbies are a major part of who I am, I’ve decided to blog a series entitled, “pastimes.” Each blog entry in the series will highlight something I enjoy doing, or perhaps something I wish I could enjoy doing. I hope you enjoy reading.
I think I first realized my distaste for work when I was very young. I was assigned the cardinal chores that all kids born of goodly parents are given—taking out the trash, vacuuming, doing the dishes, cleaning the toilets (this was my least favorite), and so forth. I also had the blithesome opportunity to help my real estate-attached parents clean up their sordid rentals after disreputable tenants moved out. Often this occurred after a distressful eviction. Mom & Dad’s tenants often left enough trash behind to turn the apartments into something that resembled the city dump. The leftover odors alone could bring tears to the eyes and bile to the kisser. For 5-year-old me, this was a traumatizing experience.
I don’t blame my parents. In fact, I really respect them. They did their best to teach me the value of hard work. They were—and are—very hard-working people. To hear them tell it, they worked much harder than I did when they were young. They even had to walk barefoot 3 uphill miles in deep snow each day to and from child-labor sweatshops where they worked 18 hours a day for a nickel a week. This nickel could either buy a head of cabbage or a ticket to the movies. Of course, they had families to feed, so cabbage got preference. This, too, was very traumatizing for 5-year-olds, but they lived in an age when people kept stiff upper lips. I guess I’m just a wimp.
Incidentally, wimpiness is the kind of thing one has to admit to when one is exertionally challenged. If one doesn’t admit to such things, one creates more work for oneself. Allow me to explain. Imagine if you will that the lawn needs a good trim. (This is not a problem at my home, as I figure putting in a lawn is way too much work.) A recreationally inclined person, such as myself, would rather be fishing. Naturally, the novice would begin immediately by making excuses. This is a big no-no. Coming up with good excuses is hard work. What’s more, an inexperienced or careless excuse-maker might cause more work for himself by actually fulfilling the excuses. It is so much easier to simply concede, “Oh well, I guess I’m just a wimp.” Let the fishing begin! (Note: This is less effective when a wife is present.)
In all seriousness, I believe in hard work…when I have to…I guess. Sometimes, I even take work seriously—a little too seriously. This is why I have hobbies. Hobbies take the edge off (and when you have as many rough edges as I do, this is a very desirable thing). My problem is I have a few too many hobbies. (I just took up blogging.) I just love having fun too much. Ok, that was a joke; nobody can have too much fun. But my diversions divert each other, and I can’t seem to master anything. Having so many hobbies is expensive and time-consuming, but who’s complaining? I love my hobbies.
Since hobbies are a major part of who I am, I’ve decided to blog a series entitled, “pastimes.” Each blog entry in the series will highlight something I enjoy doing, or perhaps something I wish I could enjoy doing. I hope you enjoy reading.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Miracle Car
Our faithful white steed, ElCarro (aka, our 1994 Pontiac Grand Prix) decided to take up smoking this week. I was very disappointed with this decision, since my car goes to church regularly and should understand the Word of Wisdom by now. It reminds me of the young men I grew up with that spent most of their time in the church parking lot and thus picked up similar vices.
I immediately parked it, called work to say I'll be late, and towed it home via my $300 van. I must say my wife, ElGirlo, who came to my rescue with our two boys, ElBoyo and ElKiddo, did a fantastic job driving the car as I towed it. She has never felt comfortable in towing situations like this, and we have situations like this fairly regularly since we own vehicles like $300 vans. I was only an hour late to work, thanks to my resourceful wife.
My dad and I checked the car out after work, and determined it needs a mechanic's touch. I found a good mechanic in my hometown of ElTowno. He checked it out and called back with the sad news: ElCarro is dying, and must be on very expensive life support. Not only was the radiator leaking, but also, the oil was leaking in 3 different places. In addition, the rear brake was grinding (this I knew, but it had only been grinding a couple of days, and I knew it was shot, so I had planned to get it fixed the next day anyway. For anyone wondering how I could let my brake start grinding before taking care of it, please understand that the brakes on this car give no warning. The first sign of trouble is the grinding sound of doomsday. And it costs A LOT to repair. STUPID BRAKES!) But I digress. The total bill would come to about $700-$800. The car is not worth that much.
Incredibly, We debated long and hard over whether we should junk our poor excuse for a vehicle or replace it. We finally decided to do the latter. I told the mechanic who laughed and said, "you know, there's a lot more wrong with this car than what I quoted you. I just told you what it would take to get it running again." This I knew. The air conditioning pump went out on it years ago, the turn signal had to be held in just the right way for the blinker to work, the driver's side door had to be opened from the inside, etc... But our hearts were still heavy when we finally drove the smoking bomb into the car graveyard and left it to be picked apart by the automotive vultures. ElBoyo sighed, "I'm sure gonna miss our car, Daddy!" ElGirlo and I felt the nostalgia. We'll miss the old girl too.
Why would we miss such a piece of scrap? Well, that was our miracle car (not to be confused with our tithing van, the $300 beast mentioned above). This car truly was a miracle. ElCarro replaced the Subaru that gave up the ghost when it’s little transmission that could split right in half in a valiant effort to reach $250,000 miles 5 years ago. I had to call in late to work that day, too. We had no more than $2,000 to spend on a car at the time. And that was really pushing it.
We found ElCarro on a used car lot in Fruitland Idaho, near the Oregon border. She was a picture of health for a low-cost car. The AC, door handles, turn signal, radiator, and engine were all systems go. She barely had 100,000 miles on her.
ElGirlo and I knew we must have a car that would last a while, so we prayed sincerely to find out whether we should buy it or not. The answer was an overwhelming “yes.”
Using my amazing haggling skills, I insisted we buy the car for no more than $2,000, including dealer and doc fees. The final invoice was $2,000.01. I was kinda disturbed about the penny, but what can ya do? We drove the car off the lot on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and thanked the Lord for His goodness.
The following Monday, ElGirlo drove the car to work. Well, that is—halfway to work. She had to pull over when she heard a knocking sound in the engine area. We figured this could only mean one thing—a thrown rod. This was confirmed by two different mechanics who said, “don’t even bother bringing it in. It’s shot.” We called the dealership and told them they’d sold us a lemon and insisted they take it back. They utterly refused.
We were devastated. How could we have felt so right about buying this car? We had no money left. We needed a vehicle. Truly, our faith was tested. We wondered, “do we really know how to recognize answers to prayers?” We returned to our knees with questions. But we felt at peace. We also felt we should take it to a mechanic anyway.
We did. The mechanic thought it was fairly fruitless to look at it, but we insisted. He discovered that the knocking sound was not a displaced rod at all, but the lifters on the engine. A coolant hose had come off, causing the engine to overheat. It was repairable and affordable. We were thrilled.
We returned to our knees again, this time with deep humility and gratitude for a Heavenly Father who not only answers prayers, but tries our faith through poignant life lessons.
So when we left ElCarro in the auto cemetery, we thanked the Lord again for 5 years and 70,000 miles of a miracle car and a lesson in faith that we were reminded of time and time again as we drove our faithful white steed.
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