Hmmmmm

Well, no update as of yet on the security thing, it slipped my mind until I sat down to blog.

I talked to my mom earlier tonight and realized that I have not yet posted my blog, so here goes.

However first, I would like to post a comment to Grandpop's blog. It gave me error messages earlier, so I will just do it here.

I really enjoyed your blog, and if you have any more stories, I'm sure we'd all love to hear them (childhood stories or otherwise!). I bet you could fill a book, and I'm sure we'd all love to read them. I remember you telling me a story about being at the armory during some riots, and getting things thrown at you (I think that was for a school project). Tell some more stories if you get stuck for a blog. It would be neat to hear them!

As for my childhood memory, I don't know about a favorite, but I do remember a camping trip the family took. If I was a boy scout at the time I was still new to it. We didn't hike, just went to a campground. Mom and Kate were with us.

I remember my ball bouncing into the lake and running full speed, fully dressing in after it. To this day I still don't know why my mom got so mad. I was scared that the ball was going to float away, and my clothes getting wet didn't factor into the equation. I think I got in about chest deep before I got it back. When I got to shore I was told to sit down and stay quiet until I was dry.

Mom was pretty peeved. I think it is because she was having to sleep in a tent, but I'm not sure (just kidding mom!). I finally dried out (except for my shoes, they still sloshed when I walked) and was 'released' back into the wilds.

I also remember that trip because dad made his now (in)famous beef pasta dish. It was rotini pasta and sauce with ground beef. Only it had some special seasoning. Apparently when the 'chef' cleaned his pot, he boiled soapy water. However, he forgot that he was cleaning the pot and dumped the pasta right in to boil. It wasn't until he was cleaning up after dinner that it hit him what he had done! To this day it was the best tasting pasta he has ever made, though I'm not sure if that was because we were starving or because of the soap. I'm not sure I'm willing to try and find out either!

As for a favorite childhood memory, there are too many happy ones to choose from. I remember dad showing up at a soccer game and the foreign kid thinking he was a cop. I remember burning through both tanks of gas on my dad's old truck making loops in the neighborhood learning to drive stick (he couldn't figure out why the truck was on empty when he got back from his trip!). I remember Katie wanting a copy of Peter Pan with the closed captioning from when we visited family friends in Orlando and went to Disneyland (the lady we stayed with was hard of hearing, and it was Katie's first time with CC on a tv). I remember dad sitting Katie and I down at the kitchen table in Jackson and having us close our eyes. He said things that lead us to believe we were getting a dog, and he made us hold out our hands. We thought we were going to feel warm puppy kisses on our hands and a wiggly body, but instead we felt paper. Luckily (for him) when we opened our eyes it was a picture of a dog we were getting (Champ, the first Brittany Spaniel), since he had built it up so much.

I remember going quail hunting with dad. I was still pretty young, so we went to a place where they pen raised them, so we would have a successful hunt. The dog didn't bother sniffing for birds, he had it down pat and knew where they would be. It was my first time hunting over a dog and I had a fantastic time. At one point they told us the next bird would be a pheasant. Dad had some steel magnum goose load left over from when he had been in North Dakota the year before, so he loaded up both barrels in his over and under with it. I shot that pheasant 3 times with my little 20 gauge, and the birdhot didn't phase him. In fact, the first shot hit, and the bird gave me a dirty look, the second shot missed, and he laughed at me, and when the third shot hit, I swear that bird gave me the finger! I moved, and dad dropped him with the first shot. Being the old pro that he was, as the dog brought over the bird he deftly replaced the spent shell with the smaller quail load. His next shot was at a quail. It was coming straight at him. He missed the first shot, which was quail load. The second shot was still the goose load. The bird was about 3 feet from the end of the gun when he pulled the trigger. I remember a much louder roar than I was expecting, and the bird went up in a red puff and feathers. It looked like he had swallowed an M80 firecracker. There was nothing left. We had a good laugh at dear old dad, who had forgotten to put in a smaller round for the smaller bird.

I also remember the days of coming home in the fall, and the whole house smelling like chili where mom had put it in the crockpot in the morning. I remember (in Savannah!) mom making me Jams out of material she let me pick out. They were the best shorts ever. I remember the spandex Batman costume mom made me for Christmas one year.

Here's one for Katie... remember playing your game first and promising to play mine after? You STILL owe me sis :D . I also remember with Katie we would play outside in Jackson during the summer, and be soooo hot that even when we came inside into the AC it wasn't much cooler. Dad had the automatic thermostat and it wouldn't kick on the AC in the day unless it got up to about 83 in the house (and we didn't DARE change the setting), so we would stand by it all hot and sweaty until the thermostat kicked it on. I remember Katie getting Brittany for Christmas, and the dog hiding under the end table terrified.

Tons and tons of great memories. I feel bad that I don't post more! I guess I better cut it off here though. Take care guys, it has been fun reading your memories, and I hope to read more.