Get In Line Now, Ladies

The hair, the eyes, the genes, the breath. It's garlic. Yes, it's garlic.

A Call To The Pen

The Vaterland

Took a trip to a local Harvest and Septemberfest today. Somehow, O kind of fit right in.

Better Times

Some views from vacation...

Tradition II

Maybe you've been waiting, maybe not, but it's time to unveil the new official LWMO photo.

For those who may be new, let me explain. The photo in the upper left is one that O, Wrigs and I sit for around Labor Day each year. Lookin' for proof? Here you go.

It's tradition. Don't mess with it.

The changes in O from last year to this are too many to mention and too many to remember. He wakes up talking. He's grown curls and has developed a total passion for football, fire trucks, guitars, fruit snacks, baseball, the organ, red (rasp) berries, big diggers, Bob the Builder, roni, trains, buses, puzzles, broccoli, hot dogs and YouTube. And really, that's just this September.

He's a good boy. A devilish little turkey bird. He's just like his mother, in other words, and this new photo says it all.



P.S. Wrigley has asked that I explain her hideous appearance in this year's edition. See, our traditional photo, unfortunately for Wrigs, coincides with the end of the late summer allergy season for this Bernese Mountain Dog. For most of August and September, Wrigley rubs her eye balls bald because of the itching. We will be looking into doggie Claritin for next year.

Stay Tuned

Yallo! I just went through a boat-load of good photos, but am too tired now to figure out how to post them all. Hopefully, in the evenings ahead, I'll have some new material, including our annual Labor Day photo, to share.

Check back.

Sunrise, Only Better

Why I take pictures I don't know. My wife takes them much better.

I get up early, paddle onto a lake and take these (had the music actually been playing while I was in the danged boat maybe it would have been able to compete).

She wakes at her normal time, walks out on the deck and takes these. No soundtrack for her.

I quit.

You Gonna Eat That

Just over a year ago, I haikued about O, his dog and corn. It was my first, and last, haiku.

Tonight, he truly discovered the gift of the Indians.

O ate two and half ears of corn in one sitting. No butter. No salt. No problem.

He then quickly announced, "I no feel good." And went inside to... eh hm... relieve himself.

The lesson of corn, top notch.

P.S. This is one of those posts that will fall into the "Dad, I can't believe you said that," category.

Sunrise

The Weather Channel said sunrise would be coming at 7:13 a.m. So, I set my alarm for 6:45 a.m. and planned to watch it from my neglected canoe.

I think it's an indication of the busy lives of many, including me, that once I paddled to the center of a dead calm Torch Lake (picked, so they say, by National Geographic magazine as the world's third most beautiful lake) by about 7:01 a.m., I sat there impatient waiting for the dang sun to come up.

I could have slept another ten minutes, I thought. But then I was glad I had not.

Splish, Splash

What a great and wonderful thing a big lake is.

That's all.