How it's made

About a year or so ago, we were home one weekend, sidelined by something or the other (illness?  pregnancy-related health issues?)... I cannot recall.  Anyrate, in a rare move, we watched some television.  We landed on the show "How It's Made".  We watched three episodes in a row before we willed ourselves to turn off the television.  The show was fascinating and appealed to our inner nerd on every level, but we had to look away. 

When I ran across the video documenting the making of a Chanel jacket, a combination of my two favorite things, I couldn't believe it. 

Splash Deconstruction

Lauren bravely takes position under the splash bucket.

She withstands the gallons and gallons of water pouring down on her petite frame.

The downpour lasts longer than you might expect.

She checks to see if the coast is clear.

And then away she skips to reunite with her peeps.

Daily photo*

*Occasional

Weekend

Stepping outside of chronological order, I want to talk about this past weekend, and will try to tackle last week in the next day or so.  As it turns out, although our trip was spur of the moment and only to a neighboring state, we have over a thousand pics from those five days, and sorting through them has become a time-consuming task.  Trust me, you want me to edit. 

Sadly, I have the opposite problem from our weekend, as I forgot my camera, and therefore, have no supporting photos.  Anyrate, we went to Atlanta.  We recently upgraded our minivan, and our cousins from Austin were interested in our Chrysler minivan.  We never thought we would be minivan people, but we had the opportunity to purchase the Chrysler from Skip's uncle for such a reasonable price.  We gave it a shot, and we were completely won over.  Turns out, millions of people are right: the minivan is an incredibly practical choice for families.  Currently, my car is like my office, and having space and versatility are key.  Plus, everyone knows the minivan is a prerequisite for families seeking a road trip.  We developed an attachment to the Chrysler and were sad to see her go.  Luckily, she remains in the family for many continued years of use. 

We had a great visit with family, sang "Happy Birthday" to Poppa (Happy Birthday!) and then went to Ikea.  We are working on adding a couple of elements to the play room and are thinking, long-term, about transitioning from a preschooler's play room to an elementary school-age recreation room and study.  Since we have an eight month old, the transition will be a slow one, but we are trying to think ahead as we purchase new pieces.  Our inspiration for what the play room will one day be is...... drum roll.... the Apple stores.  Jobs' relationship with the design firm credited with the Apple stores is documented here (and if you do follow the link, know that we will not be utilizing glass, the stores' trademark).  Instead, we are looking at a workspace, such as this:

plus this:

and this:

plus this:

Since we will need to grow into these pieces, I am weighing how the aesthetic of these tables will be affected by using adjustable legs (via the Ikea build-a-table option) versus the tables, as shown. Therefore, we did not "pull the trigger" on these purchases Saturday, but we're almost 100% sure these are our choices.   They are sleek, will not overwhelm the room, and are quality pieces that can withstand years of use/abuse. 

Because the room is currently the complete opposite of minimalism, we have a long, long way to go -- so long that decreasing the table's height may not be a factor (not even for George). 

Milestones

Although I am eager to write about spring break and the weekend, I need to document William George's happenings. First, he pulled up for the first time about two weeks ago, and now he tries to pull himself up several times throughout the day. So far, he has not had the realization that he can pull up in the crib.

Next, he is crawling forward! Now that he has gotten some traction, he does not stay in one place for long at all. Gone are the days of expecting him to stay in a five foot radius. He is a boy on a mission!

His sisters scrambling to keep up with him. They are constantly on object patrol to make sure no small toys are within his grasp. They have yet to realize the havoc he will create once he smashes fully into their toy supply.

Wish them (and us) luck!

Pastels

Pastels are always integral for spring clothing, but this is the year of the pastel, taking a break from bold color of the past couple of years.  My favorite "it" color is blush, although this is not a complimentary color for me.  Blush, however, is a fablous color for my mom, and therefore, I have been pushing her to scoop up tons of blush items while they are readily available. 

I did, however, recently pick up the  Simply Vera (Wang) platform in blush (available at Kohl's).

Photo via Kohls.com

They are surprisingly (and thankfully) very comfortable. 

Again, pastels are not the most flattering selection for me, but I try to incorporate pastel accessories.  This "Pastel Power" guide from Vogue provides textbook guidance on how to do it right.

Friday's quote

Dome of the Rock, via Fotopedia Heritage

If you once forfeit the confidence of your fellow citizens, you can never regain their respect and esteem. You may fool all of the people some of the time. You can even fool some of the people all the time. But you can't fool all of the people all of the time.

-Abraham Lincoln

Arrival

We took a brief trip for spring break (more to come). We arrived home today to a stack of magazines (yea!) and several stacks of laundry (boo!).

Daily Photo*

*Occasional daily photo.

Daily Photo*

*Occasional daily photo.

Day in the Life

In an effort to accurately recall our daily routines years from now, the 15th of each month is being documented for a day-in-the-life view of how we spend our days.

March 15, 2012


3:17am: George awakens. Re-swaddle, turn on the white noise iPhone app.

5:50am: Awaken, give George his 6am bottle.

6:20am: Get dressed and ready.

6:30am: Awaken Gracie and Lauren, dress, do hair, etc.

7:00am: Breakfast, consisting of eggs, turkey bacon and cereal. Prepare lunches, brush teeth, assemble book bags, etc.

7:35am: Depart for school.

7:55am: School drop for Lauren (Gracie did not attend).

I need to explain Lauren's hairstyle in the above photo, mainly if/when she questions why her hair was styled in such a way.  Lauren, this was entirely your idea (and Gracie's, of course).  You have a classmate, Kylie, who wears her hair like this occasionally.  Ms. Venus, one of your teachers, calls this style "reindeer ears," and you have been intrigued since you heard that expression.  You are blameless, really; what five year old wouldn't want to wear reindeer ears?

8:15am: Apply make up in the car. Brief errands (CVS, gasoline).

8:50am: Arrive home.

9:00am: George's 9am bottle and nap.

9:30 - 10:30am: Phone calls, laundry, cleaning.

10:30 - 11:30am: Gracie's work books.

11:45am: Lunch. Skip returns home from Boston and picks up Milo's on the drive home from the airport.

12:15pm: George's lunch and bottle.

12:30pm: Play time.

1:15pm:  More cleaning.

2:00pm: Commute to school.

2:30pm: Pick up Lauren and commute home.

3:00pm: George's 3pm bottle (he continues to eat every three hours).

3:30pm: George's nap. Unpack school bags and lunchboxes; review paperwork from school. Pack bag for afternoon activities.

4:15pm: Dress Gracie and Lauren in leotards and tutu's.

4:30pm: Have an early dinner (sandwiches, veggie straws, orange).

4:50pm: Leave for ballet

5:15 - 6:00pm: Ballet

6:00pm: Commute to softball.  I haven't posted about this yet, but we signed up for softball this spring.

6:12-6:25pm: Change from leotards to softball clothes in the car.

6:27pm: George's 6pm bottle.  He liked the ambience of the softball field.

6:30 - 7:15pm: Softball practice.

7:40pm: Bath, night time routine.

8:00pm:  Bed time for George.

8:20pm: Lights out for Gracie and Lauren.

10:45pm: George's final bottle.

11:00pm:  Bed time for me. 

Whew.

And that is currently a typical Thursday. 

See the February 15th (Wednesday) routine here.

Daily Photo*

16. Sunglasses

*Occasional daily photo

St. Patrick's Day

The goal tomorrow is to avoid getting pinched, yes?  Although I love the color green (emerald; not lime), we have not amassed much green clothing here.  Therefore, we will have to get creative and come up with accessories or the few sparse green items we have.  Our approach is how NOT to dress for St. Patrick's Day. 

Instead, here is how to create a stylish, green ensemble.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! 

Friday's quote

Royal Hill of Ambohimanga, via Fotopedia Heritage

Spring is when life's alive in everything.

-Christina G. Rossetti

Meet the Outdoors

This past weekend, Gracie and Lauren introduced William George to the great outdoors.

They gave a full swing set demonstration.

He cackled, and said the playground looked like big fun.

So he tried out his swing, and he laughed and laughed and laughed. 

George swung long enough to get super relaxed, much like Gracie used to do.  He was completely chilled out and totally limp when we finally pulled him out of the swing.

And then it was time to go inside. Gracie did not want to leave the outdoor fun.  We assured her there would be many afternoons with the swings, and she reluctantly -- very reluctantly -- went inside. 

Daily Photo*

 

15.  Car

*Occasional

WGL, 8 months

William George, you turned eight months old this past Monday.  We call you Wiggle sometimes, as a play on your initials but also because you are energetic and crave movement.  

You have discovered toys!  You love the drum, and all of the LeapPad alphabet toys.  Mostly, your favorite toys are whatever your sisters have at the moment.  Since they give you a run for your money (see bed incident here), it's a draw.  Still, you are enamored of your sisters. You squeal with them, and they can always make you laugh. If they ever cry for any reason, you erupt in tears, too, in a show of solidarity. 

Your favorite room is the play room.  The hardwood flooring downstairs makes crawling a challenge, and you like the upstairs (carpeted) better.  You still crawl/slide backward most of the time, but you do manage to yield some distance from that maneuver.  You will often slide/scoot to another room. 

Oh! And you are transfixed by the iPhone and iPad! You seem to have super-human/baby strength whenever you see those devices.

You have finally gained some weight.  For the longest time, you were like a miniature professional basketball player, long but lean.  You have finally added some weight and filled out, due to your ability to finally (!) eat some food.  So far, you have managed to tolerate carrots and sweet potatoes.  You weigh 18+ pounds, and currently wear mostly 9 or 12 month clothing.  We have not posted this previously, but you have rather large feet.  You wear 12-24 month socks, and I can barely get your feet into the size 3 shoes we purchased for your baptism.  You detest having your clothing changed (much screaming will ensue), and sleeves always provoke your wrath.  You do, however, enjoy having your hair combed.  You always smile and watch each brush stroke in the mirror. 

While still exceptionally agreeable, you assert yourself more each day.  The day I saw you get angry and try to jump out of your exersaucer is definitely memorable.  You are ready to be on the go!  Once you are able to move, I anticipate you will be a blur of activity. 

George, you are the embodiment of joy, and you have made our family complete. 

Happy 8th!

Daily photo*

Middle C Position

*Occasional daily photo

Springspiration

Image via The Wooden Soldier

Springing forward versus falling back? Gaining an hour versus losing an hour? Last weekend's sleep loss left me scoring the seasons as follows:

Fall: 1
Spring: 0

I had a slight change of heart once I started scanning the mountainous stack of catalogs and magazines that have accumulated over the last week. First, I found the above ensemble in The Wooden Soldier.  Most moms of boys will tell you that boys' clothing is not as fun or inspired as girls' clothing.  I would (and will) point those moms to the above short all.  Fortunately for our budget, we have already locked in our Easter outfits, and therefore, I am not tempted by the costly cuteness shown above. 

The next items to pin on your spring inspiration board are the Louis Vuitton print ads. Mad Men fashion + spring = the LV spring ad campaign.  Clever, as always.

Image by Steven Meisel

See the making of this campaign here. 

Back to Easter and children, the below would be adorable for an egg hunt. 

And this girls' sundress? Perfect for anything this spring or summer.

What objects have caught your attention and made you excited for spring?

Body Language

During a recent mealtime conversation, wherein we were talking about birthdays, Lauren mentioned she was very excited about turning six. She thinks six is an exotic age, that many good things will happen once she reaches the ripe old age of six.

Naturally, Gracie is equally excited. We gave assurance that six is, indeed, a magical age. To emphasize how monumental that age is, I held up six fingers and said, "Six is HUGE!"

"No, momma, that's not how you do six," Lauren told me. She held her little fist proudly and (with the thumb side facing outward), raised her middle finger to show me she was making the number six. (The index finger and thumb create the circle, while the middle finger makes the curved line.)

"Uhm... who taught you to make a six like that?" I asked.
"Ms. B, last year at school."

We are absolutely certain that Ms. B, K3 teacher at the church preschool, probably used her index finger to make the curved line (versus the middle finger).

Now, in situations that might be fraught tension (e.g., heated conversations with DMV personnel), we jokingly ask, "Do you want to see my six?" 

Interactions

Happy Friday!

As I have mentioned here many times, William George is an incredibly agreeable baby. Even when agitated, he remains easy. Never is this more true than when his sisters are playing with him. He would probably play with them for up to an hour without needing anything from me. Only when he becomes over-stimulated does he ever request rescue from the action.



Have a great weekend!

Friday's quote

Navajo Bridge, via Fotopedia Heritage

Fame is a vapor; popularity an accident; the only earthly certainty is oblivion.

-Mark Twain

Daily Photo*

8. Window

*Occasional

D-M-V

As a result of a recent used minivan purchase, we were faced with the much dreaded task of going to our DMV to register said vehicle.

The line stretches around the block by 7:10 am.

While most DMVs are characterized by inefficiency and incompetence, our county's DMV has elevated those poor traits to an art form. With all due respect to other DMV's, we set the standard.  Our DMV historically has been overstaffed/overpaid and has consisted of multiple, unnecessary locations. As a result, they were targeted for recent budget reductions, decreasing their locations to only two. Now, those affiliated with this department would argue that their inability to process simple transactions results from these decreases, but I posit to you here that there is no relationship, whatsoever, that their shortcomings have nothing to do with these lean economic times.

We had heard horror stories about the lines and wait times. Therefore, we struck out for the courthouse early. I mean early, as in we-were-standing-in-line-at-6:02 am early, having left our home at 5:35am. We were not catching a flight; we were trying to register a used minivan.  Anyrate... we got to the courthouse and found a place in line. We were maybe 20th in line, and the folks in front of us had brought seating, blankets, etc. Worth mentioning is the fact that the temperature was approximately 35 degrees, and the courthouse would open at 8:00, meaning that we had the better part of a two hour wait ahead of us.

We all have to face down the DMV at some point or another, but why does the crowd always seem a little off?  Jerry Seinfeld captured the essence perfectly when he declared the DMV a leper colony.  This crowd made for the best people watching ever, and we had a full two hours in which to take in everything.  There was the guy sporting an "I [heart] weed" t-shirt, that was later memorialized when he was photographed for his driver's license. There was the woman who double-checked her bag for her firearm when we were discussing the logistics of getting through security, and there were the people from seemingly every walk of life. 

Again, the officials in charge of this department would have us believe that this type of inefficiency results from the strains under which they have been placed due to recent issues.  For locals, I am delicately addressing the county's bankruptcy.  For non-locals, the county made poor bond investments, lost all of the county's money, and this debacle has been featured in the national news on many occasions.  De-BACLE.  Truly, a case study in what not to do.  And, there is the embezzlement, corruption, convictions, etc. For those unfamiliar, the county is plagued on multiple fronts.  However, back to the specific issue, these lines are not new.  When Skip moved here many years ago, he also had to be at the courthouse pre-sunrise to stand in line for a new driver's license.  In fact, he was in line at 6:20am, and was given a ticket for the very last afternoon slot of the day.  This is not a new problem; it is a recurrent problem. Therefore, with all due respect to the officials involved, the incompetence creating these lines has absolutely nothing to do with financial considerations. 

I have belabored this point enough.  The doors finally opened, the folks in front of us broke camp, and we made our way through security.  The path to the office was roped off to shuttle everyone through in a controlled fashion (think cattle).  We were given tickets to present at the door of the office; without a ticket, admittance would not be granted.  Our paperwork was given a cursory glance by a young woman assigned with working the line.  I would like to comment on her customer service skills, but, in a single word, I found her to be rude.  We were given the greenlight to advance eight feet to the door, where our paperwork was checked again by another worker.  At that point, we were told there might be a problem with the type of ink used to sign one of the documents.  They would need to check this with a supervisor, and we were asked to leave the line and await a response.  Although this did not sound promising, they returned, saying that Ms. "S" approved the signatures.

Hallelujah!

We purchased this used vehicle from a relative in another state, meaning that the vehicle had to be inspected.  Skip went to coordinate the inspection, while I was told to "hang back" in line, since the clerks "usually won't" process the paperwork without the inspection release.  And, importantly, they told me to be sure to tell the clerk that Ms. "S" had already approved the seller's signatures.   

As I hung back/out, I was able to see the full extent of the DMV work ethic.  Although there were maybe 20 people working the floor, I would have been hard pressed to identify more than two of them working.  There were make-up applications, lotion applications and huddles of three or four people in groups, laughing, talking and, you know, doing anything/everything that is the polar opposite of work.  After telling three or four people to go in front of me, I was left as the lone person in line.  Everyone else was going through the aforementioned screening process.  Most were rejected.  The clerk directly in front of the line, Ms. "L," called for the next person.  When I explained the situation, that I was waiting for the inspection, she told me to just wait in front of her window.  This was not a good omen because she merely wanted to tie up her window in order not to have to wait on other customers.  The luck of the draw had dealt us the blatant non-worker.  Not good at all. 

Skip actually found the one and only employee with any work ethic in the inspection department.  After he completed the inspection, we passed our information to the clerk.  While waiting, I had practiced how to present the information about the approved signatures.  The DMV clerks are a prickly group.  After allowing maybe 30 seconds for review, I casually said, "Oh, and they told me to tell you that Ms. S has already approved the signatures."  There was immediate push back, wherein the clerk said the signatures were not correct, and therefore, she would not process the registration.  This clerk was definitely our rudest encounter.  I reiterated that they told me to tell her the signatures were approved.   When I asked her name and attempted to read her identification tag, she turned the tag over and said, "You don't worry about my name."  We asked to see Ms. S, the supervisor, and were told she was unavailable.  The clerk asked us to move to the side so she could process other customers.  I took the opportunity to remind her that she, moments earlier, encouraged me to wait in her line for the sole purpose of avoiding customer contact.  When we asked her more questions about the perceived problem, she responded, "I'm not listening to you."  We asked for a supervisor.

A second supervisor was consulted, and this person, Ms. G, opined that the second signature was incorrect, that the last name dropped below the signature line.  We argued that the allotted space was about an inch, on which two, full signatures (six pronouns) had to be placed.  Then, they focused on the first signature, that there was "overwriting" on the signature.  Finally, the first signature was deemed illegible.  I argued strongly that signatures are often barely legible, and that is the very rationale behind the concept of printing the name AND signing the name.  "Well, I can't read it," was the response. 

"You cannot read the name.  You are telling us you honestly cannot read the name?"
"That's what I get paid to do, and I'm saying I can't read it."

We then focused on the discrepancy between the earlier approval and the problems raised with the second review.  "She did not look at the signatures," Ms. G said.

"She approved the signatures," I responded.
"She did not look at the part.  She only looked at one part."
"She approved those signatures."
"She did not look at the signatures."
"She looked at the ink.  How do you look at the ink and not the signatures?!"
"She only looked at the ink.  She did not look at the signatures." 

Y'all.

Needless to say, things went downhill from there.  We were provided with one excuse after the other (in short, they blamed the recently enacted immigration laws) for why they had to scrutinize so carefully -- each of which are patently false, as any casual reader of our local newspapers would know. 

With the exception of the gentleman who completed the inspection, every single person we encountered should be fired on the spot -- for gross incompetence, if nothing else.  And, if they ever found themselves working in the private sector, they would be terminated immediately... no excuses... no exceptions... clean out your desk.  Above all, scenarios such as these give the DMV (at least ours) its reputation.  As I sit here holding my 8 month old son after his last bottle of the day, I am saddened that he will learn that places like the DMV -- places devoid of dignity and self-respect -- exist.

The bottom line is that we were directed to yet another employee who typed (like, on an actual typewriter) an affidavit for all of the parties to sign -- again.  We were given subjective instruction on the signatures, i.e., sign the full names, big enough and legible enough to read, but not too big, as they have to fit on the line. 

What could possibly go wrong?

And (despite our prompting them to do so), they haven't even looked at our signatures yet.  

Bad Mondays

So yesterday was the reason Monday has a negative connotation.  First, William George, was awake from approximately 3-5:00am.  Therefore, we were already functioning on a sleep deficit and felt very much as if we had been hit by a train.  (I should mention he was awake from 2:41 - 4:45am Sunday morning.) But, we shook it off and started the day.  Sleep is overrated anyway. 

Upon awakening the girls, we were immediately made aware that Lauren was not feeling well.  She had a stomach ache, but did not appear to be feverish.  To be on the safe side, we decided only Gracie would go to school.  At 8:15am, Lauren decided she felt much better and thought she could go to school after all.  Since she had skipped breakfast, I gave her a brunch-type snack of applesauce, and told her that she would have to wait until after George's bottle.  In the meantime, she went to the restroom and declared herself completely well. 

We praised Lauren for deciding to go to school, and we commended her for recognizing that there was still 90% of the school day left.  We were in the car and on the way to school at approximately 9am.  When we were literally twenty feet from the turn into the school drive, Lauren told me her stomach was hurting.  By the time our tires made contact with the school parking lot, she was sick in the back seat.  She was pitiful, to be sure.  After surveying the damage and doing some initial clean up with wipes, I told her that we would need to do a full clean up at home, where we have supplies, etc. 

Since I was keeping an eye on her in the mirror, I couldn't help but be aware of how miserable she was back there.  I stopped about one third of the way home to attempt clean up.  After some more clean up, we decided to do the full clean up at home.  Going further would have only gotten Lauren dirtier than she already was. I got back in the driver's seat to start the car, and... nothing.  The car would not start!. 

I tried again.  Still, nothing.  Click-click-click... nothing.

Shockingly, Skip answered when I called.  Normally, if he is on calls (which is always), he never answers.  We discussed the unlikelihood of the call being answered, and my guess is that he responded due to Lauren's earlier illness.  Otherwise, as he said, he would have assumed I was calling to say I was stopping at Target on the way home (that, for the record, would have been a false accusation). 

When the girls were babies, I read that the best skill to hone is the ability to be in control, to exude confidence.  When in doubt, allow an instinctual reaction (courtesy of oxytocin) to take over, give confident instruction, and children find this comforting.  That approach seemed logical, and I have gotten much mileage out of it.  Really, this works like magic.  Immediately after talking with Skip, I reflexively began comforting Lauren. 

"Lauren, don't worry.  We are going to clean up now -- no time like the present -- and then we'll go home with daddy.  Don't worry; I know exactly what to do." 

Only the absurdity of the morning caught up with me, and I started laughing, admitting, "Except that I don't really know what to do first."  The logistics of working around three car seats, various paraphernalia (e.g., coats, book bag, nap mat, diaper bag) made the first step less obvious.

So we both laughed for about a minute.  We talked about "bad days," and that our day had officially qualified as a bad day.  We talked about how there will be many bad days and that there are usually two choices.  We could either get upset about it, or we could see the humor.  We laughed, and then we rolled up our sleeves.  Lauren carries a change of clothes in her school bag.  We got her out of the back seat (which resulted in her getting more dirty in the process), changed (with a quick wipe down with baby wipes) and repositioned in one of the unaffected seats.  I remembered that I keep a full size can of Lysol in the car.  After removing the two car seats in the back and wiping down the area, we were ready to go.  She was the epitome of bravery throughout the entire ordeal.  Lauren is better today, and we have surmised that she had a 24-hour bug yesterday. 

As far as the car?  The car was towed, quickly repaired (bad battery) and is back in rotation.

While I would like to report that today has been a better day, we had to go to the DMV this morning and that, by definition, is the foundation of a bad day. 

Weekend update

Although our weekend started off ominously (school closures due to tornadoes), we had a fantastic time overall.  George and I picked up the girls at noon Friday, and they came home and had fun in the play room.  George was having an exceptionally good time since Lauren taught him how to play their old Schoenhut piano.  After a while, I moved George into Gracie and Lauren's room while I put away their laundered clothes.  Finally, when it was time for a bottle, I sat him very carefully in the middle of the carpeted flooring, away from any furniture or other obstacles (in case he fell to the side), and I told the girls to offer him toys if he became fussy. 

I went downstairs long enough to grab a prepared bottle from the refrigerator.  In doing so, I heard a very loud THUD, followed by crying from George.  I raced back up the stairs, taking the first three or four steps in the first leap.  As I landed on the stairs, I heard Gracie say, "Why did you put him on the bed??!!!!" 

Poor George.  While scooping George off the floor (NOT in the place I left him), I quickly interrogated Lauren. 

"Did you pick up George?!"

"Did you put him on the bed?!"

Yes, came the tearful replies.  Her tears were filled with remorse. 

Gracie is her father's child.  Skip is good-natured and honest to the very core.  Whenever he is under duress, he may as well have been injected with truth serum.  He could never pursue a life of crime.  Gracie is the same way.  During the above episode, information poured out of Gracie.  Lauren  picked up George.  She put him on the bed.  She does it all the time. 

Wait.  What?  She does it all the time?

Thursday after school, I thought I noticed something odd when I walked from the keeping room to the kitchen.  Lauren had apparently picked up George then, too.  Long discussions followed in which we confirmed that George is not to be picked up or carried -- except in extreme emergency (carefully defined). 

The rest of Friday was without injury or incident.  We had a low key family day (Saturday), and we went to see Veggie Tales on Sunday (thanks, Auntie Melinda, for the tickets!).  Larry, the cucumber, and Bob, the tomato, are perfect for capping off the weekend.