Easter goofballs.

Here's a little Easter goodness from our neck of the woods!

700 Club

I recently joined the 700 club. No...not Jim Baker and Tammy Faye...the triglyceride club. The doctor told me that my triglycerides are 764. On the chart, 500 is very high. The crazy thing is they also said that my cholesterol number was 130. I really don't get it. Any help?

Also, they want to put me on a medicine called Triaplex (I am not sure if that is spelled correct). Uncle Scott, do you know anything about this?

Easter Sunday

Sepporah had a bunny with the same dress on as her today at Church. She looked so cute and I am glad we were able to go to the same service. Our church KCC had like 30 services to choose from.
Chris Johnson

Tigers Opening Day

My seats on opening day courtesy of my friend Mike Bologna and ESPN.
Chris Johnson

Easter

Tonight we went to Sepporahs school to walk the journey of the cross. Its an interactive worship service to celebrate the death and resurection of Jesus. In the picture Sepporah is writing down prayer requests to nail to the cross at the end. She took this very seriously and really wanted to go to it tonight. I am very proud of her and am happy she is taking more of an interest in Jesus death than the easter bunny.
Chris Johnson

Steve?

I don't know if any of you will agree with me, but there is this Christian recording artist named Steve Fee that has always reminded me of Uncle Steve (That's Uncle Stephen!). When I saw the older picture of Uncle Steve, I really thought they looked alike.

What do you guys think?

Le Artist

I bought Sepporah a bunch of painting supplies for Christmas this year and she loves to paint! Her mom is a good artist and I recently discovered I have some ability too, so who knows. Sepporah is gifted in so many ways.
Chris Johnson

Prepare Yourself for the Cutest Thing in the World

Cole was swaying in the rocking chair and Titus climbed up to sit next to him. Mary went into the other room and a few minutes later Cole called for her to come in the room. This is what she found.

Cole wanted to stay that way until I got home from church so I could see it but that could have been a while...so later he tried to recreate it. Here is picture 2:

Titus wasn't going along with it and Cole was bummed.

Wii

Sepporah playing wii boxing with some high school kids.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Dodgeball

I am leading a small group for high school boy athletes at my church Kensington. The high school program is called The Edge. Jessica is also helping lead a group of girls so tonight we had a big dodge ball tournement. Sepporah came and she was a big help setting up. She loves church and loves to help out.

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Titus' Words

Titus going through his words. Things to notice:

1. When he says, "Cole" he always makes the cutest face.

2. When he says, "Baby" he always goes for Mary's stomach.

Young Guns in Metro Politics

I have a story out today for Metromode.com about young politicians in the region. The experience writing this was similar to a piece I did last year on female head Chefs in that the angle I was assigned to write turned out to be bogus. In the case of the Chef story, I was asked to explore why a male-dominated kitchen has kept chicks out of head positions, and then learned that, actually, none of the women I spoke to felt held-down at all and that they were avoiding leadership positions by choice, for a variety of reasons.

For this new piece, I went at it trying to get a sense of what it was like to be a young, progressive politician coming up against the frustrating stagnation or even corruption of the old guard. On the contrary, what I heard from everybody I spoke to was that things were humming along, they loved their older colleagues, and metro Detroit has some amazing and positive things happening behind the scenes.

It made me happy, I'm telling you. I can't even listen to the news anymore because the tone is so funereal. I am proud to be telling a positive story, and to have come by that story honestly.

"Young Guns in Metro Politics"

Keepin It Real...Chris Johnson Style

Yesterday Troy (team I coach) lost to Rochester 9-8. As much as I hate to lose, loses like this are good cause it shows us were we are week and need to work on. Anyways, after the game I gave my first interview for one of the major newspapers here in Michigan, the Oakland Press. Just a little tid-bit on me if you didnt know, is that I dont beat around the bush and I tell it how it is. They only used one of my quotes at the end of the article, but they told me that I gave one of the best interviews they ever took and said they would come to me more often. People always blast me cause I keep it real and speak what is on my mind. I guess the press doesnt hold every one elses opinion. Here is the excerpt from the paper:

Troy head coach Frank DiVito actually didn’t stick around for the last two innings, as he had to leave to attend to parent-teacher conferences. 

Regardless, assistant coach Chris Johnson spoke for DiVito and the rest of the Colts afterward, saying the early part of the season is just for getting out the kinks. 

“It’s good that games like these happen,” Johnson said. “It sucks that it happens in league play, but at the same time, we’re going for the state championship. That’s what we’re gearing up for. After going (to Battle Creek) last year, you get a taste for it.”

Cole Speaks the Truth and Mary Sings Confirmation

This morning, out of the blue, Cole said, "Remember at that hotel place Uncle Chris did that high five thing. He's a weird guy." (At that time, Mary began singing, "Amen, Amen,...." Then Cole followed up with, "Uncle Daniel is crazy." At that point, the family joined in with, "Amen, Amen, ..."

I will begin posting blogs using my blackberry...not because I want to,...but because I can. JK. Cause I want too.

Scott Abroad

Scott posts:

I went on a post-layoff trip to London. I had a blast. I saw the crown jewels for my sister Phyllis. They are amazing. I saw all the famous sites like London Tower, where countless queens and traitors were executed. Saw Westminster Abbey, Shakespeare's Globe. I made a few new friends. Spent my evenings at the local pub "chatting up" the locals who are very friendly.

What I enjoyed most was waking up and walking a few blocks to the British Museum every day, having a breakfast of stewed tomatoes and baked beans. The city is full of history and charm. Much of what we have here (laws, culture, social order) is based on their system, so it felt very familiar. I will definitely go back.

Anthony

This is Kirsten's nephew Anthony, one of the two boys she takes care of at her nanny job. I'm nominating Anthony for honorary membership in the Thompson family based on the unusually large size of his head.

He's cute right? And what a dome!

You heard it here first

This is from my personal blog from last night. I'm just copying it over because it's easier. You won't recognize the names of some of my friends...

How I ended up in the emergency room tonight. By Daniel Johnson, 5th Grade.

So yeah, to tell this story right means I'm going to have to embarrass myself a little. Don't judge.

I suppose this really all started about a year ago when I began looking for the perfect medallion. I was thinking, maybe a shark tooth (I like whatever Zozzy has, I think that's a shark tooth, or a urn with his relative's ashes.) Last week, I was on a hip hop blog and saw someone with a bullet at the end of their chain. "Nicely done," I thought. "How can I get one?"

So I felt pretty resourceful when I got the idea to drive up to Joe's Army Navy and see if they had any spent bullets for sale. They did. Problem was, I needed to get a hole through the bullet to affix it to my chain. At this point, high on pride in my own resourcefulness, I made a rather dubious choice to involve Ben.

A note about my friend Ben. Ben is a renaissance man. Handy. A master of many applications. BUT. Somewhat of a dreamer. Somewhat dangerous. The joke is, Ben will fix the radiator on your car but your windshield wipers will never work again. Ben will replace the heads on your tape machine, but it might blow a fuse if you actually plug it in. That kind of thing.

So I show up to Ben's last night with my bullet, and he invites me into his workshop where there has a rather robust drill. The kind of drill you mine for diamonds with. "That's funny," he says, "Are you sure this bullet has been fired? It looks unused." I told him that I specifically asked for a spent shell casing and that, in any case, I can't imagine they'd be selling live amo, especially since I explained it was going to be used for jewelry. He seemed satisfied and grabbed the bullet from me, placing it in his vice.

You might have already guessed what happens next. Ben's drill punctures the bullet, which goes off straight into the fleshy part of my thigh removing a hole of fat out of it about the size of an egg. It happened so fast that Ben and I just sat there for a good minute, stunned from the noise (louder than you'd think), and staring at my new battle wound in disbelief.

The blood was... intense. The pain... also intense. Being insurance-less, I opted to skip the ambulance treatment and with a little TLC from Ben's wife made a pathetic tourniquet with about three towels and sealed the whole thing with a garbage bag to keep from bleeding on Ben's upholstery when he taxied me to the emergency room. We laughed a little on the way to the hospital, or rather Ben did and I tried to go alone with it, but my heart wasn't in the jokes. I was angry for getting myself tagged, angry for involving Ben at all, angry at Ben's face. And honestly, it wasn't even his fault. But I blame him anyway. Him and the negative forcefield of catastrophe that surrounds him and gets innocent bystanders like me shot.

I'll be laid up for a few days from my non-job if anybody wants to bring me ice cream or hurl Molatov cocktails through my window.

I'm going to bed.

People Say We Look Alike. I Don't Get It.

Happy Birthday Trish

Today is Trish's birthday. No jokes this time about age (she's 59), just best wishes to one of the sweetest people any of us as ever met.

The View

The view from our kitchen window.
The view from our back porch.

The view from our sidewalk.

Money Pit

The Johnson-Buys clan is once again on the move like the suburban nomads we are.

It's hard to believe it was just last March that I rescued Kirsten from her well-paying job and killer-location apartment in Chicago and whisked her off to the safety and comfort of my Ferndale Manor.

It's hard to believe it was just last July that we had enough of the Ferndale Manor and got ourselves set up in a cleaner, larger pad within walking distance from downtown Royal Oak. The place was a big step up for us. On the dead end of a quiet little street. We took a lot of walks in those early days. Claire chased birds and rabbits. The house seemed like a small paradise.

We weren't alarmed the day we signed our lease and Sam the landlord gazed out the window at the vacant lot next door and said, "You know, there's a slight chance they might start construction on a new apartment complex there this year. But they say that every year. Probably won't happen...."

We weren't alarmed when the refrigerator failed to keep our food cool or frozen the first week. Especially since Sam was Johnny-on-the-spot about it and had a new one installed a week after our complaints. (This is Sam's first time landlording and he is so responsive and accommodating it's like he's trying to win some kind of prize.)

We weren't alarmed when the garbage disposal exploded, beyond the general shock of the noise and wet mess, but we did feel a little bad that Sam had to make a second repair within as many months of us being in the house.

We still weren't alarmed when the tree branch the size of our house split off and crashed, missing my Jeep by inches. Okay, we actually were alarmed, but not in any way that it seemed significant. Mostly, we just felt bad that Sam had to foot the bill for tree removal, and wondered how he could possibly be turning a profit on us at this point. Did I mention that Sam is the nicest, most attentive landlord either of us have ever had? Seriously, World's Greatest. We felt for him.

As the months went on, we weren't that alarmed when the toilet leaked, or the kitchen sink went bust again. We weren't alarmed because Sam was always there, that night or the next day, fixing everything without as much as a grumble. (While visiting once he even spotted what he saw was a problem with the handles in the shower and tried to make a quick fix - big mistake. This turned into a whole afternoon's project in itself.) But no, we weren't alarmed. We just made a joke out of it, "This will be the month that we don't have to call Sam. I just know it!"

We weren't alarmed, but we were a little put out, when the drain in the basement backed up, oozing black sewage into the laundry room, forcing us to spend the night elsewhere to avoid getting poisoned by the fumes while Sam called in a plumber to snake the drain.

We actually were alarmed, as well as annoyed, when the basement flooded the morning after our Christmas party. It was an unseasonably warm day that got up almost 60 degrees, melting nearly all of the snow that had accumulated for months, and causing some kind of overflow in our drain system. Yes, we were sad for Sam, who had to pay big for this, but also exhausted by the work of hauling all of our belongings from room to room in the basement so many times. "So many times?" you ask. Yes, so many times, because the flooding happened again, and then again. Once Sam thought the problem was licked, and the floors had sufficiently dried, he had the carpets professionally cleaned - twice, since the first time didn't take - to get rid of what was a now daily mold stench in our house reminiscent of cat pee.

We were definitely annoyed at the fact that whenever we opened the door of our own home we now flinched from the whiff of whatever mildew madness was happening in the basement. But we adapted, learned to live with the smell, and mostly just felt bad for Sam.

How can I put this? We were... not furious, but full of consternation when the construction crews arrived at the first sign of warm weather. We were sad not for Sam but for ourselves when the constant sounds of sawing, beeping and booming began waking us up before our alarms did. We were maddened by the effects of drilling noises that went on for hours and seemed to be boring into our very minds. Nay, into our very souls. We were flat-out depressed the first time we looked out the kitchen window and saw not trees, not sky, but a massive mound of soil.

But none of this diminished our love and loyalty for Sam, the World's Greatest Landlord. In fact, when the toilet wouldn't stop running, we took it upon ourselves to buy the parts and make the repair ourselves. To give him his first month without having to fix something that had broken in our house. That was the theory anyway, and we were so proud of ourselves when, after about four hours of wet, pinched and frustrating plumbing work, we had successfully repaired our own toilet. What happened next might sound like fiction, but I kid you not: within ten minutes of our celebration, the kitchen sink suddenly started shooting water all over the place (this was in no way related to the toilet plumbing). You want to know something funny? Before Sam could arrive the next day to fix the kitchen sink, another leak had begun in the bathroom (also unrelated to the toilet). Hoping to make Sam feel better, when he arrived to make the joint repairs we proudly pointed out the money and work we had saved him by fixing the toilet ourselves. "Hmmm," he mumbled, making his best effort to seem pleased. But Sam's eyes had gone vacant. The sad, inescapable truth none of us dared say was that the house was clearly toying with us. It was a living, evil thing that now openly mocked our efforts. Its message was clear: we fix one thing, I'll break two.

Well, the flooding kept happening. Other things broke. The constant smell of cat-pee-and-feet returned. We stopped inviting people over for dinner. The laughter stopped. Claire began having nightmares that the house was trying to eat her. How could I bring myself to tell her that it actually was?

So that's how Sam pulled me aside during one of his now-routine repair visits a few weeks ago and gave me the news: he was breaking the lease. He was going to gut the basement and then try to short-sell the house. I wanted to tell him that he might consider getting an exorcism, if not ritualistically burning the place to the ground. But I said nothing and shook his hand instead. "Sam," I said. "You're still the World's Greatest Landlord."

Focused Boy

I took this picture during the program that Mary runs for children for the county. This is just how Cole is...always focused.

Titus Gets Tubes

Titus had to have tubes put in his ears today. The procedure only took about 5 minutes but they still had to put him under for a little bit. Here's a quick video of him in his gown.

Here's a couple of pictures too. Before and after.

Essential Music

There is a radio show in Detroit called Essential Music. They're having a competition to come up with a theme song and Kirsten encouraged me to enter it. Take a second and vote for my track (Number 7):


VOTE

Cholesterol

I recently found out that my cholesterol was through the roof. I excersise daily and eat pretty good most of the time. But I felt that something was wrong with my body so I decided to go have some blood work done to find out what was wrong. What I found out scared me. My cholesterol was at 330 and my tryglicerides were at 187. I was a snickers away from having a heart attack. The doc told me that it has to be genetics so now I am on a whole sleu of medications to get it under control. Does high cholesterol run in the Thompson family? 

Jason's Hair

Sarah writes:

So, Jason and one of his groomsman have this deal going on about their hair. His friend Chris, has not shaved or cut his hair in a really long time, so Jason and his friend Chris have this deal to where if Jason doesn't cut his hair until the wedding, Chris will shave his beard. He hasn't shaved his beard in years. So these are the pictures of the boys now...Oh, I can't wait to see them by the time the wedding roles around. Especially Jason.

Funny Link

GG posts:

Our nephew, Roger Thompson, sent this link to me and I thought it would be funny for the blog. It's about four old ladies getting hit and what followed. It will make you laugh if you listen to it all. I can identify, because I take pepper spray with me to work.

CLICK HERE

Love,
Grandma

Happy Birthday Gabe

My soul cousin, Gabriel Thompson, has a birthday today. Happy Birthday Gabe!

Happy Birthday Aunt Karen

Today is the birthday of one of my favorite people in the world. Karen Thompson turns 62!

Happy Birthday Aunt Karen.

Heck and Hell

I hate parent blogs. They're full of cuteness. And even though parenting is often an overload of cuteness it can also be terrifying and sometimes depressing as you do your best not to mess up your kid while at the same time somehow managing to keep their butt alive and healthy (all the while failing daily). I mean, last night I'm reading this really interesting book that talks about social conditioning and the whole time I'm thinking, "Drats! I already made half of these mistakes on Claire!"

But she's doing just fine. Better than fine, really. In fact, as far as I can tell, my kid is better than other kids - though I would never tell her this so I don't over-inflate her ego. Or wait. Should I actually try to over-inflate her ego so that when the world has its cruel way with her it'll all balance out? Man, I don't even know.

Anyway, today there were a couple of funny father/daughter moments that I will cherish for the rest of my days as an inept parent.

I pick her up from latchkey and notice her hat is nowhere in sight. This is bad because I've been cracking down on hat and glove usage: she hates wearing them and I tell her that she can thank her hatless ways for her nasty cough. At the same time I'm noticing the missing hat she sells herself out herself by blurting out, "We went outside again after school!" I say, "You went outside and didn't wear your hat?" She says, "Yes, I did." I say, "Then where is it?" She says, "Back in my locker..." I say, "Then you couldn't have worn it outside, right?" She knows she's busted. "Right."

I've also been trying to crack down on the lying, which is happening more and more frequently. I know that kids are going to lie to their parents up and down. But still, I have to try, right? So I say, "Alright Claire, you're grounded from TV tonight for lying to me." She weeps in the car. She weeps at home. She's weeping for so long that I ask her to go in her room and weep there so I don't have to listen to it any longer. I say this really nice and add that it's okay for her to be upset and cry, but that I just can't stand hearing it any longer.

Eventually, I make her dinner and, since Kirst is out, suggest that we sit down and eat together and invite her doll Ellie to join us at Kirst's place. She stops crying immediately and starts bustling around setting the table for three. Her face is red and swollen but suddenly optimistic.

While we're eating the subject of school comes up. They're learning words that start with E this week. My usual joke when we go over her letter words is to say the longest ones I can think of, in this case stuff like "Effervescent." She'll say, "Ear," and I'll say, "Evisceration." She laughs at my joke, though I'm not sure why. Then I say, "Exclamation," and ask her if she knows what an exclamation mark is. I tell her it's something you put on the ends of sentences for emphasis. She says, "Like, 'What the hell!'"

I say, "What did you just say," really not sure if I heard her correctly. She looks at me without blinking and says, "Like, 'What the HELL!'"

I'm at a total loss. We've never had the swear word talk. How do I explain to her the arbitrariness of cuss words, about substituting one word for another nearly identical word out of deference to other people's sensibilities and the superstition of language. I say something like, "Claire, has nobody talked to you about how you're not supposed to say certain words?" She looks at me blankly and continues stuffing food in her face. "No," she says.

I have no energy for the conversation. Or at least for the speech I'm supposed to make. Instead, I try to level with her and explain as sincerely as I can that there are certain words that kids aren't supposed to say, and that she's going to hear adults say them all of the time, and there's no reason for these rules except maybe manners and she's going to have to learn the rules anyway and "hell" is one of those words and she's supposed to say "heck" instead. She says, "Okay" and continues polishing off her mac 'n' cheese.

Later, I'm in my office working on something and she comes in and hands me a handmade card. It's is scrawled in her phonetic chicken scratch:

i em sre theet i
lid too you
I love you

Man Hands

Claire has many beautiful qualities but her hands are.... how can I put this... manish. I've noticed it before but it really popped out in this video message she made today for Kirsten (who is at work nannying).

Dancing Girls

Dance lessons were my present to Claire this Christmas. She also got the full leotard/tights/slippers costume as well but they couldn't be located in time for this past Saturday's class so we had to improvise.

Claire is the same age as these girls but much, much larger. It's funny and cute how tall she is. But the extra height hasn't made her any less graceful.

Hey Matt!

Richard Blankenhorn, Funny Guy Part II (Aka Who's Laughing Now?)

Richard fills us in on the not-so-funny stresses of his current schedule:

I have been busy studying for my series 7 exam, which is financial test i have to take to become a broker. I have been studying about 4 hours a night on the weekdays and practically all day on the weekends. I have basically not had a life for the past 2 months. I finally took my preliminary test this past week and passed, but I am not going to take the real test for another few weeks. Once I pass, I'll be training to be a service center broker, meaning I take calls from clients who cannot immediately get in touch with their local branch office, and I'll be traveling 4 to 5 weeks out of the year to branches all across the US. I can't wait to get this over with because I am sick of studying and I hate my current job. I am also kind of nervous because I have heard of brokers getting calls from crazy and angry people. The manager who interviewed me told me there is this guy who constantly calls and is always peeing in a toilet when he calls. I have also heard of people calling who are drunk or who barely speak English and are screaming at you in some other language. It should be pretty interesting. Also, I am going to New York City this weekend to visit some friends and take a breather. I'll try to get you some pictures of the trip. Other than this, I have nothing else going on really. I hope everyone in the Thompson family is doing well and managing through these tough economic times.

-Rich

Richard Blankenhorn, Funny Guy

Via Grandma, via Trish:

Richard met his Grandma and Grandpa Blankenhorn for dinner the other night and Grandpa always asks him if he changes the oil in his car. Richard said, "Yeah I just changed it but I think I bought the wrong kind of vegetable oil because it’s not running too good now." Trish said, I guess he got Grandpa really going, fussing at him and then he told him he was just joking.

Sarah's Engagement Story

At last, via Sarah:

Ok, ok, sorry it took me so long. Anyway, this is how it happened.

Mom and Mark came down to Springfield on the 6th and 7th to celebrate my birthday. They came down on that Friday night but I had to work so I knew I wasn't going to see them until Saturday morning. Well, work wasn't that busy so they let me go home early. I called Jason from work and he said he had just finished having dinner with my parents. I though to myself--Hmm, ok, you are having dinner with my parents--and I'm NOT there....weird. So, Saturday morning we met up with my parents and we all went down to Branson for the day. While my mom and I were in a store shopping, Jason and Mark were outside the store talking. I'm thinking--What in the world could they possibly be talking about? (Well, fact is Jason was asking my dad if he could ask me to marry him. And that's what he mentioned on Friday night at dinner also.) So when we got back to Springfield I had like 30 minutes until I had to be at work, but Jason wanted to go inside my parents hotel room and sit for a little bit. So I'm sitting on the couch with my parents right there and Jason sits on the couch next to me and says (really loud) "You know I love you, right?" So I think to myself--why is he talking so loud. So I tell him I love him back and he continues by saying "Well, your parents didn't just come down for your birthday. While you and your mom were shopping I was asking your dad a question." So while he was talking he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. So I just started balling. I could not believe that this was happening. Then he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him. I just cried and hugged him and finally he was like "Well?" And I said that of course I would marry him!! So, that is the story and now we are engaged. We had talked about it before but I never in a million years thought it would be anytime soon. We don't really know a date yet because I just sent off my applications for my dietetic internships. I won't find out if I am accepted or not until around April. But we really want to have the wedding in the fall. So I will keep everyone updated on all the news although I am really bad about communicating. Attached is a picture of the ring.

For Anybody Who Hasn't Heard Yet!

Sarah got engaged to Jason this week. She's promised me the full story and as soon as I get it, I'm posting it. All I know is there were tears.

The Ghost of Bobby Dunbar

This American Life "The Ghost of Bobby Dunbar"

Everybody should listen to this, an example of radio at its finest. This is a story about a woman who begins looking into her family history, specifically the story of her great grandfather Bobby Dunbar, who was famously kidnapped and then found years later in another state. Besides the gripping story, I enjoyed hearing the southern accents of the people interviewed as well as their gentle manner of speaking. It's kind of sad, when you think about it, that regional accents can die out over generations, as they have in the Thompson family. They sound beautiful and it's a shame there isn't a way to preserve them somehow. Just a thought.

But seriously, listen to this story!

Scaring People is Fun

I'm leaving for NY tomorrow. You guys should send me some updates, photos, videos, anything so we can know what's up in the wide world of Thompson-ness.

Depressing Talk

I had a bright idea for the blog, or so I thought. With the news being on 24-7 Recession alert, and some even throwing out the word "depression," I thought we could all use some real perspective on how hard things really got in this country during the great depression, and how comparatively cushy we have it now. "Hey," I thought. "Grandma and Grandpa lived through the depression. They'll probably have some great stories that I could post on the blog." So I sent out an email asking for them to pony up.

Grandma's response was... what would you call it.... a ray of sunshine:

You ask us to write our memories of the Great Depression. I really don't have any. I was born in 1931 so I was too young to know what was going on. I don't remember hearing my parents talk about it. We lived on a farm out in the country and raised some of our meat, had chickens for eggs, cows for milk and butter, and a garden for vegetables. I'm sure it was rough in a lot of ways but I don't know more.

Grandpa knows quite a bit about it. His parents lived on the highway, a two lane highway and they had people coming by a lot, wanting food or a place to stay. Grandpa's mother never wanted to turn anyone away. One time she heard some say, "We'd better eat all we can. We don't know when we will get more." They sold watermelons for fifteen to twenty cents each and grandpa (6 years old) told the people that they had some for a nickel each. They bought them for a nickel and grandpa's brother and cousin were really angry that a little brother did that. A nickel could buy some food though. Grandpa and his siblings would walk along the highway and look for pop lids. They would pull out the cork part and see what the prize was. Often they found one that would say they could get a free bottle of pop. Grandpa had a pet chicken and it ran across the highway and got killed. Grandpa cried but nothing went to waste, so his mother cooked it and grandpa took some for his lunch at school. Grandpa had four siblings at that time and it was difficult for his dad to make it, so grandpa started working in the field picking cotton when he was about six or so. The banks went under. Some people killed themselves.

Love you,
Grandma

Green Church Story

I have a new story out today in a really nice local online magazine called Metromode. It's about a Catholic priest who has converted his church into a very energy efficient and environmentally-friendly operation. I was really motivated by meeting him and impressed by what he's accomplished.

Read it here.

I Feel Funny

Surprise!

Cole learned a new expression. I was talking to him and I said something that surprised him and he made a surprised expression. I started laughing and asked him to do that again...this is what I got. It still makes me laugh.