Jan had the great idea of raking the leaves in our front yard into a big pile for the boys.  (I still can’t believe we have a front yard)   Here is the video I took of the boys taking full advantage of the situation!

“A guy just got a huge house on my street for a steal - and he’s not even that bright!” 

That’s how it all started two months ago.  Two months and one day ago, we were getting on with our lives in our little condo, looking forward to a summer of after-work dips in the pool followed by barbequed dinners and meandering quiet walks at dusk.  Today - right now however, it feels exactly like those last few moments as you are approaching the first big drop of a major rollercoaster.  “clink clink clink clink *ping* clink clink clink clink…”  Oh my gosh what was that?  Did I hear a ‘ping’ in there?  I just know there must be a loose cotter pin somewhere! Some underpaid carny worker with cheese-fries on his hands smeared off the maintenance item that says “Check cotter pin so cars don’t fall off track ending the lives of all aboard”  I just know it.  Did anyone else hear that?  Hello! 

“Yeah, and this guy - the one who’s not so bright, got this great house and even did 100% financing on it.  Can you believe that?  This is the time to buy.“  That simple remark from a friend got my wife and I thinking.  “Hey, we’re kind of bright.  Maybe this is the time to buy a house.” 

We’d been living in a nice little condo since shortly after the birth of our first son.  With eight years and a second son under our belts we were feeling the squeeze in the condo.  So we took the dare and climbed on.  We called our real estate broker and started looking at houses and finding out what we could afford.  “Jerrrrrk - clink clink clink clink clink”  We were on our way. 

I think the most exciting part of a roller coaster is the concept of a roller coaster.  The dizzying heights.  The incredible speeds.  Having your body flung about as if in the jaws of a carnivorous beast.  You know, good wholesome fun.  Much like buying a house.

We put our condo on the market and quickly found a house we liked.  We just needed a buyer for our condo.  So we put in a bid with a Hubbard clause, essentially holding our dream house while we waited for a buyer.  The clause was good for two weeks. 

All we could do was wait as we ascended, still excited, but aware of the people on the ground looking smaller and smaller.  ”Clink clink clink…”  We were running out of days.  On the day the clause was to expire, we got our buyer.  But the fun hadn’t even begun yet.  Next was our loan.  And our buyers loan.  Appraisals, clink, inspections, clink clink, paperwork left and right, clink clink clink.  With only 48 hours to go at the apogee of the closing - barely inches away - our buyer still did not have a ‘clear to close’ on her loan.  PING! I just know we’re going to go flying off the track!  The whole thing is shaking and rattling.  The attorneys and brokers along for the ride seem a bit distracted for being in such a precarious position.  I would have thought they were used to this.  I turn to the cars behind me but to my surprise I am alone! 

And then the cars slow down for that brief moment when the whole thing is turned over to merciless gravity.  My cell phone rings.  It’s my attorney…  “You know that re-finance you did six years ago?  Well, it doesn’t show as paid and I need proof it was paid.  Do you happen to have the paperwork there in your pocket?  We can’t close without it.”  I just swear we are leaning halfway off the track on the left side.  I expect to see one of the wheels free-falling to the earth any second now. 

And then time comes to a virtual stop.  And then comes the plunge.  Somewhere between the time my entire gastrointestinal tract saw the light of day though my mouth and the time I swung past that very first dip on the coaster I bought a house.  Something tells me it was horrifying - yet …fun.  Fun?

I step off and cross the threshold of my new front door.  Still wobbly from the ride, I can’t help but wonder if that friend who first put the idea in our heads isn’t sitting down with someone else right now, with cheese-fries on his hands saying “Hey, I know this couple, they’re not too bright, but they just bought this great house…”

Wyatt recently had to get glasses for reading.  Now we know how you make a smart boy look even smarter!
For larger images and a slideshow, click here.

I had been home for about 3 minutes when Jan walked in behind me carrying a couple of bags of groceries for the evening’s dinner.  She looked beat and informed me that she was on the fourth consecutive day of a marathon headache. 
 
It’s funny how male disappointment can deflect facts such as a woman’s headache as easily as a ping pong ball ticks off of concrete.   Having expected that she would have already been home for some time readying the kids for the pool I defied the obvious: “The kids aren’t ready for the pool?”  
 
Adding to my frustration was the fact that we were having a guest come over for dinner in less than an hour and I was on for the cooking.  That meant there was no chance for a swim with the boys that day.  As I huffed and puffed while unpacking the groceries, Jan started stacking up the facts of the situation like a neat column of coffee table coasters just so that she could precisely and vigorously chuck them at my head in rapid succession as she rattled them off to me.  Having a somewhat tedious day myself, I was in no mood for a sound head-chucking, so I cut her off with my loudest tone yet.  ”You know, I just don’t want to hear it.  Just forget the whole thing - it is what it is.”  Of course, she was completely right.  And then it came after a pause:  ”You’re mad at me, right?”  Suddenly the floor at her feet was strewn with coasters.  I assured her I wasn’t, still trying to avoid the coasters.  She wasn’t buying it.
 
She went off to our bedroom to lay down for a bit to try and shake off the headache while I started preparing the dinner.  By the time I sliced into the second zucchini, I had forgotten the whole incident.  Chopping vegetables is like a sedative for me.  It is a perfectly achievable task in a world that would just as soon slap me silly with responsibilities.
 
So, our guest arrives, dinner is enjoyed by all.  Our guest leaves and the evening chores are complete.  We decide to take an after dark walk to enjoy the summer air and find fireflies with the boys.  
 
Near the end of our walk, Jan asks again if I am still mad.  It’s been hours since I even gave it a thought.  That’s when the vast difference between male and female anger hits me.  
 
Male married anger is like lightning.  It’s mostly bluster as the result of a passing front.  It is fast and powerful, but aside from a flash and some quickly dissipated rumbles, when it’s over, it’s over. 
 
Female married anger on the other hand is like a glacier.  Before you know it it’s upon you.  Silent and unrelenting, it overwhelms and  destroys everything in its path.  You can’t go around it.  You can’t get over it.  You can’t go under it.  You don’t know where it’s going to stop or when it is going to retreat.  In fact, it’s hard to tell what direction it’s going, if any.  Once it does recede, it completely renders the previously known landscape unrecognizable.  All you can do is pray for Al Gore to be right after all.  Until it’s completely gone, life as you know it is in an ice-age stasis.  Lightning has no effect on it.  Thunder is useless. Only the warmth of abject humility offers any hope of returning to the times of warm sunny afternoons among the rolling hills and flowering fields.
 
So, my advice to all you married men is that if it looks as if a front is approaching and your wife is in the vicinity, either get humble fast, or forget the raincoat and go straight for the full-length down coat, boots, gloves, and an ice pick, because long after you think the issue has passed you might just find yourself encased in ice staring into the eyes of a wooly mammoth who just like you, thought he could get away with raising his voice to his mate…

If the video does not show up here, you can go to it directly by clicking here.

Here are a bunch of pictures from our respite from the heat. It has been in the mid to upper 90’s here for the last several days. No complaints here! We just made sure we hit the pool and kept it cool!

For a slideshow with larger images, click here.

Here are some pictures from our Niagara trip over the Memorial Day weekend:

I thought I would include this since, although it is outright fiction, it is based on absolute experience with Ryan and Wyatt.

We were all invited to go to a wedding about 90 miles or so from home and Jan asked me in an E-mail whether she thought that we should bring the boys or not.  Add to this scenario the facts that Wyatt was 6 and Ryan was 8 and are currently only interested in anything with scales, weapons, armor, or anything that shoots.  Wedding dresses are definitely not on the list.  So, this was my response…

Let’s just try to envision what this would be like….

We prepare for the long trip with such pacification tools such as the portable DVD player, a grocery bag full of assorted snack foods, and at least five new and witty ways to say “shut up”. 

Thirty minutes into the hour and a half long trip, the boys start: “I’m hungry”,  “I’m thirsty”,  “Is there anything to eat?” 

“What happened to the cookies and sandwiches and apples we brought?” you gently inquire.

“We ate those already” they quip back with a hint of “duh” in their voices.

Three quarters into the movie the boys start poking each other with giggles but that is soon punctuated with one final “OWWWWW”.  I fire off the first witticism.  We are nearly there.  As we pull into our destination we get “What’s for dinner?”  “Will there be mushrooms?  I don’t like mushrooms.  Mushrooms are disgusting.  Why does there always have to be mushrooms?  Ewwww”.

Second witticism away.
 
We get into the church or chapel or whatever it is.  The boys want to run. They’ve been sitting for over an hour in a stuffy van in only one position.  They are boys.  Sagely, we tell them to  “Just sit down and be quiet.”  Simmering resentment about going to weddings starts to take form in the boys on this very day for years to come.
 
After a while the ceremony starts and is interspersed with about forty Shish’s, seven “sit stills”, one head-turning “be quiet”, and at least a couple vows of our own.
 
The ceremony is finally over.  As the couple leaves the alter Ryan blankly and obliviously lets out another loud “I’m hungry”.  Wyatt is staring straight forward like a zombie flipping his bottom lip with his thumb. For some reason there’s something sticky all around the area where he is sitting.
 
We all get to the reception.  You leave me and the boys to go to talk to family for 45 minutes while the hors d’oevres are served.  Simmering resentment about going to weddings starts in me for years to come.
 
After being corrected by the boys that we were not at a restaurant and that indeed “restaurant manners don’t apply” I muster my last witticism, not sure where I lost two in the shuffle.  Of course it has to do something that rhymes with “spanks”. 

Finally there is a toast and soon after the food is served.  They boys pick three kinds of bread, several broccoli florets, a baby carrot and 12 packets of butter, one of which Wyatt starts eating right out of the wrapper while still in the buffet line.  Ryan is busy humming an ominous theme from the Lord of the Rings and firing imaginary lasers at some of the other guests from drink stirrers he has stuck into his broccoli.  Several florets roll off the plate onto the floor, past the feet of a guest, and under the table cloth.  We just keep moving.

With the meal over, the boys are really anxious to run around, but since we tell them to sit still yet again, they start playing “poke each other until someone gets really annoyed”.  I’m the lucky winner after about only 3 pokes.  I look around for your help, but you left again to go talk with other members of your family.  I can’t blame you, I think, but after both the boys disappear underneath the table somewhere I change my mind and blame you.
 
I decide to leave the boys under the table and find you to tell you the boys and I will be waiting in the car, and that we have a long trip back, so please say your goodbyes and join us in a couple minutes.
 
Forty minutes later you come to the car saying you took so long because you had to use the bathroom. My puzzled expression as I try to figure out what could take 40 minutes in the bathroom is interrupted by the boys notifying you that they are still hungry and want a snack and “can we stop at a McDonalds?”

Twenty minutes into our ride home, they both have to go “reeely bad” even though they denied needing to go before we got in the van. I proceed to break all sorts of laws trying to get to a rest stop before the area in the van all around Wyatt is not only sticky for some reason, but also wet.
 
We finally make it home and despite several more pleas for snacks by the boys, we shove them into bed and shut out the light with nary a word.

We then comment on what a nice wedding it was, how nice it was to see your family, and how well the kids did given the circumstances.

Three and a half minutes after shutting out the light we start going on how about wonderful our boys are…

– Or –
 
The boys stay home with “Aunt” Margaret, we go and enjoy a quiet ride with plentiful stimulating conversation, much of it about the boys.  We visit and say hi to relatives.  We marvel that the groom makes it through the ceremony, have some dinner and visit more relatives, bringing them up to date about the boys.  On the way home I listen to radio while you take in your pre-bedtime nap.  We get home, take the babysitter home, peek in on our little angels, make our way to bed, and then three and a half minutes after shutting out the light we start going on about how wonderful our boys are…

The whole family went to see Horton Hears a Who this weekend.  I thought it was hysterical!  To me it was one of those movies that was funny throughout and was puncuated with extreme knee-slapping laughs from beginning to end.

I love surrealist and witty humor - both of which were prominent in the movie, but neither overbearing, and all of which was enjoyable by the kids.

My favorite character was “Katie” - who did not say much, but when she did, it was something like this:

“My world is full of ponies that eat rainbows and poop out butterflies.”

And at one point she goes cock-eyed and just starts floating for no reason.  Whichever writer or animator came up with this character has a wonderfully strange sense of humor!

I highly recommend this movie for anyone who still has a child, or a child within!

I work as an IT manager.  That means I sit in front of a computer all day.  I talk on the phone, and occasionally I get up to get coffee, or attend a meeting, where once again, I sit.  Needless to say, this does wonders for my metabolism.  Now, keep in mind, my body chemistry craves potato-chiptides, Godiva-flavins, and a good dose of Donutium to feel good - and from time to time I give in.  All the more reason why, after a couple months without riding in the bitter cold and snow, I am desperate to start riding again.  It helps offset the effect of the Big-Mactates in my body, or rather on my body.

So, after getting my new Giant OCR-1 road bike this past Friday, and knowing the afternoon temps would be around 48°F I decided to brave the 28°F morning temperature this morning.  After about 20 minutes of riding my hands and fingers warmed up a bit, but it took about 30 minutes after the ride for me to feel my toes again. 

This is also my first time riding with clipless pedals.  I have about 10 intersections or so that I need to stop at, and several areas where drivers wait at the red light so close the the curb that I have to do the one-foot-pushoff thing to get by them.  So, all in all I have quickly learned to get in and out of them - and it’s not really much harder than the Power-Grips I had used on my Gary Fisher Tiburon last year. 

Going from a Hybrid to a good road bike is incredible!  Even though I was fairly loaded down this morning with a big heavy chain and other things I needed to bring to work, I was amazed at how much easier it was to climb the hills - and that’s on my first commute of the year - completely out of shape!  I can only imagine how much more enjoyable the commute is going to be in the spring and summer months!  For casual riding, the Tiburon is very comfortable, but for 30+ mile round-trip commuting, it was getting pretty hard to carry all the extra weight…

So, once again, I am very glad to be commuting by bike, saving on gas and auto expenses, getting in better shape, going green, and  doing my part to ease congestion for my fellow man.  Now all I have to do is lay off the Pop-Tartomins and I’ll be all set!