Flat Tommy's School Visit In Idaho Falls

Personally, I have good memories of school lunch and then there are those of which a Latin term best illustrates the idea: ad nauseum.

At Jack's school, however, the new visitor was a hit with the babes in Jack's first grade class. Maybe it was because Tommy's shorts was the same color that they wore at the time or a color of something that would match what they wore. Regardless, they just couldn't keep their hands off "flat Tommy."

It was cheeseburger day, and in honor of Tommy's love for chocolate milk, everyone seemed to want to drink the same thing.

Now I've visited the school during lunch and have taken a seat with Jack at the table. The noise is reasonable. I mean it's not like the Pink Floyd concert I attended in Stuttgart, Germany, that advertised a potential for permanent hearing loss without wearing "ear protection," but it was still a small room with tiny people and high pitched voices.

I have an advantage here. Maybe it's years of driving a Caterpillar D-6 Series C tractor which may have modified my hearing, or maybe it's my selective hearing loss my wife says I have.

"Jonie," she says just before damning me all to hell and continuing, "You only hear what you shouldn't or what you want to hear."

But I maintain that that lunchroom wasn't loud. But only dogs and dolphins can possibly decipher those high pitched tones expressed in excitement of coloring primitive art, playing tag at recess, contemplating joy in every breathing moment. It must be fantastic to be young.

I can't remember.

But it was a great day for Tommy at Edgemont Elementary in Idaho Falls.

Hoping that May 6, 2010 has Better Weather in Minnesota

Before Jack went to school

today, we had him hold up our

"flat Tommy" in front of him on the front lawn for a quick birthday picture.

Today is Tommy's birthday.

There was about an inch of snow on the ground, and it continues to offer flurries. The sky is grey. It's 37 degrees outside right now. The chirp of robins took a sad tone early this morning.

I chose not to whine about it. I'm beyond whining--just "ticked" about my hopes for spring.

I can never remember a time in my life when May had cold weather for this long, and it looks to continue. I just hope Tommy had a great birthday in Minnesota today, with smiles and cake and presents and friends. Birthdays are fun when you're under the age of 21.

And I will post happier moments to commemorate my birthday grandson's day throughout the next 10 hours or so. I just hope Tommy had a fantastic day today.

It's been a busy week for "flat Tommy," but there have been some moments of fun too, which included a visit to the Idaho Falls Public Library.

There were computer games. Jack likes those, and he enjoys the books there too, especially those of some "dragon" series.

I finished one with him last night, so we'll be taking another trip within the next few days.

There are always Star Wars books, and when in doubt, Goosebumps is an option too. Grandma isn't sold on those, and occasionally Jack has a nightmare after hearing a story from one just before he goes to sleep.

But there were other places in Idaho Falls that were interesting too, like Sub Zero. They make ice cream in this business with liquid nitrogen, so a visit there is like reaping the benefits of learning about science and eating something that tastes great but isn't good for you all at the same time.

But I guess ice cream does provide nutrition, since milk products are part a basic food group, yet I also occasionally view Dots or Sweet Tarts or Sour Patch Kids as satisfying the fruit requirement, and when ice cream isn't an option, there's always Mild Duds.

Last Friday, Jack was excited to take "flat Tommy" to show and tell. That was an eventful day. Grandma went with Jack to school to take pictures of this activity in the opening minutes of class.

Then we made a trip to get a yellow polo shirt for the elementary choir program performance, which began just before the end of the school day. We had his practice soccer shirt, but we wanted something else.

Jack wanted to have a polo like Tommy.

Then on Saturday, we decided on a number of activities--like the Farmers Market--one near the river and a second one near the mall.

Teton Mall's market had something particularly fun--a couple of young Germans from Frankfurt, who recently moved to Idaho Falls. They will be selling Bratwurst each Saturday.

It's the birth of another new Saturday tradition, and "flat Tommy" did all of that with us, but I don't think he would have eaten a brat.

The next stop was at the comic book store, where Star Wars characters were to be there for photo opportunities, but it didn't happen, so we went home.

Plans change. We wanted to take "flat Tommy" to Yellowstone Park, but the weather was even colder there than in Idaho Falls. Staying home wasn't a difficult decision. My idea of winter is sitting up to my neck in my hot tub in water heated at 106 degrees.

I don't think "flat Tommy" will be there for that, but Pop Pop will like the warm water.

But "flat Tommy" was able to see some great things in Idaho, like Pickle's Place in Arco. Jack and I ate there once.

The food was great. The atmosphere was like I would imagine at any tiny town isolated from the world. I listened curiously at some foreigners at the table next to us and found it interesting, that they would not only eat at a "little known" diner in a remote place, but that they would so easily blend in with "red neck" America with ragged jeans and hunting orange.

Then I realized they weren't foreign. They were aboriginal citizens of Arco, and when I finally began to understand their creative use of the English language, I determined a number of things--they didn't like outsiders, they hated teachers, they liked to kill animals, even at the expense of losing a job. Joblessness seemed less of a concern than satisfying bloodlust for anything that crawled or believed that wolves were an essential part of the ecosystem.

I could live with everything but one item. They didn't serve wild game, so it wasn't a problem. I was a hunter once. I believe that wolves keep wild game healthy and free from diseased animals, and when they kill domestic animals, I support farmers in their right to be reimbursed. But a hate for teachers is something I can't put up with, so I decided to eat at the only other restaurant in town, until I determined that they shared all of those cultural eccentricities: especially a hatred for teachers.

The good news is that there is one of those taco wagons, a renovated bus or even a motor home of any type, that became refitted by Hispanic immigrants to serve incredible Mexican food. It's great. Besides, they recognize the need for their children to get an education in order to succeed in modern society.

This picture was important for "flat Tommy" to see, because when these three Buttes erupt to the same time to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy, you know you have a "weather" closure at any area school. It's like Hades spills flame and ash, but it also has to happen in the deep of winter. That way, superintendents can know that they only cancelled school when "Hell froze over."

What's a visit to Idaho without driving by the nuclear laboratory. In the movie Overboard, Kurt Russell described the area as Gooberville, Idaho--a place near a toxic nuclear waste dump. I guess he and Goldie once ate at Pickles Place too.

From "flat Tommy's" smile, he enjoyed the ride with grandma on her way through the Idaho desert on the way to see Craters of the Moon. I'm still not sure whether it's a part of the National Park System or belongs to some other type of designation. My having hauled lava rocks on a farm really affected my love affair with any nature reserve that offers panoramic vistas of patches of rocks.

And what would a trip to Idaho be like without taking a picture of a "spud cellar?" It's like going to New York and not recognizing the Empire State Building. Potato is king here.

My Beautiful Granddaughter Samantha

Ann was able to be with the grandchildren in January, and during that time, she spent a good deal doing something she loved--cuddling our new little one in her arms. It was a child's glimpse of the spoiling that Grannie Annie would continue to do.

And as for me, I still look forward to seeing her and getting a chance to hold her. But at least then she will be older, so I won't feel the usual tension I feel when holding a baby.

While I do it, I worry that I am holding them too hard and hurting them somehow. Of course, it doesn't help things when I see that spot on a baby's head that throbs with each tiny beat of a heart. After a short time, I always ask Annie to hold the baby.

I was that way with my own children, and I continue to have those feelings now. I remember my dad saying that too.

I have noticed, however, that those weird feelings of paranoia are not like they were years ago. Having grandchildren changes a person. You no longer feel some of those fears, and you feel overcome with the joy of being able to spoil a child and then send him home for parents to deal with the consequences.

But even then, I don't like seeing them go home. Whenever I have grandchildren in my home, I savor each moment. In cases where I haven't seen them in a long time and it takes a long time to get them to Idaho Falls, I am so excited to see them, that I forget about those fears I have felt for decades.

I'm always sad when I see them leave, but that's a good sign. Loving grandchildren is not something difficult for me. I enjoy every minute with them, and I savor every experience.

Soccer In Minnesota

I remember reading a copy of a type of Parade

Magazine, which game with Sunday's Salt Lake

Tribune in the late 60's or early 70's. The two articles I read during different weeks made two interesting predictions: first, it talked about how money in America would soon change in both size and color, and secondly, soccer would soon emerge as America's number one sport.

Now, there is still talk about changing the color and size of American paper money, because counterfeiting is too frequent a business, yet it never happens. I remember reading that article and thinking how absurd it would be to have money of different colors and shapes, and then in 1972, I began a two-year stay in Germany, where the smallest bill, which was only about three or four inches in length was green, the next was a bit larger and was blue, and then--as I remember so long ago--the next one, which was a 20 DM was green. Then the 50 was brown. The hundred was blue, and the thousand was quite large and blue. It was twice the size of one of our bills.

In spite of how well in worked in Europe, tradition still plays a dominant role in our culture, even if it is one that has no logical or even practical explanation.

Soccer also never became the number one sport in America like the article predicted; however, I saw it begin to be a factor in high school athletics in the early 90's. Today, it's popularity is even greater on the high school level, and Salt Lake has a professional team.

But in the last two years, I've seen something else. The play among children is at a level, which is higher than I watched in high school games in the 90's.

The way that little ones bring the ball down the field, the way that they pass, dribble, shoot is unbelievable.

But what I like most is that size is not a factor. It's all about agility and speed and ball handling and team work, and in most cases, officiators call a game with a better eye on the field--not allowing anything to happen that would hurt a player.

Tommy and Jack both play, and I love watching. It's frustrating not to see my Tommy play, but these pictures are incredible.

The funny thing is the fact that I talked to Tommy on the phone just a short time before this game began. He was so excited to play. And there will be a time when I will be able to watch.

Regardless of what I need to do, I will see a couple of these games, maybe not this year, but I will do it.

And I'll watch Anna too. She starts next week.

But for now, we'll be doing local stuff. Jack plays on Tuesdays, and he practices every Thursday.

It is fun to see little ones get so excited about it, but even more importantly, it's fun to see adults work to help young people excel.

I love seeing the excitement and hearing the joy of the game in the voice of my grandchildren as they talk about upcoming games.

Perchance to Dream?

A bad dream roused me out of sleep twice: once at 3:15 a.m. and a second time two hours later. By then, I couldn't go back to sleep.

I embraced the addictive screen of facebook and began working on a farm with an Irish Castle, Stonehenge, ski lodge surrounded by redwood trees and an Italian villa. You would think that something like that would take care of things.

It took me at least thirty minutes to realize just how the dream horrified me.

The dream found me at the front of a classroom, doing a presentation. The equipment failed to work, and even before that happened, I remember approaching the situation unprepared.

That's something that I never allowed to happen, so that is worth at least a higher pulse rate.

When the brief Powerpoint failed, I gave up and stood briefly before taking a seat. I just gave up. That's something else I would never do. There would have been a backup plan, although I had one situation where not only did the emergency backup plan fail, but two or three other things did too.

That seminar I did, where the equipment was less than ideal, also had a second disadvantage. The group in the room never showed signs of life, except of course for one individual during lunch, and that was a lactose intolerant person, who probably didn't notice the cheese in a sandwich. I noticed how the sleep in his eyes swept away like the tide, just after an enormous growl echoed across the room. He ran toward porcelain relief.

But this dream was truly a nightmare. You have to be a school teacher to have something like this disturb you.

My other nightmare, which occurs occasionally, is when I dream that I enrolled in a graduate level course and forgot to attend or drop the class. When I was in graduate school, I did research and read books a semester in advance. I would go to the professor and get a syllabus for the class at least a semester early, which gave me a decisive advantage.

I would never have been in this situation either.

But thank goodness for something that successfully drove the bad vibes from my thoughts.

14 Things That I Love Doing For My Sweetie

1. My father taught me something crucial--an idea that is fundamental in a relationship: understanding that working together is something you do for someone you love. And my dad taught me never to feel that gripping the handle of a vacuum cleaner or picking up a dish towel was less than manly.

When we worked on the farm, dad used specific moments to reinforce that idea. For example, whenever my mother drove a wheat truck, when we both were busy with equipment and doing other things, he would show me how mom helped us and how we needed to do the same. Mom would bring us meals to the field, and it was never a simple meal. There were always things that tasted so incredible, and it was warm. Mom would wrap everything in newspaper, which kept chilled things cold and hot things warm. Everything was always the perfect temperature.

I've done what my father suggested, and some of my favorite moments have found my Annie and me in spots where we did things together, whether it was preparing meals--both simple and complex, or whether it was cleaning dishes--both small and more time-consuming. Being together and working that way was something we just did.

It's how things work.

2. Respecting in-laws was something my wife found easy to do, because she has always treated everyone with respect. It was her trademark as a teacher. The only educators who ever had issues with my Sweetie were people who needed to have issues. They wanted to be difficult, but my Annie never game them the satisfaction.

She understood that retaliation through an angry reaction just made her a mirror image of those who created problems. My Annie took the higher ground.

When it comes to things at work, occasionally, Ann waited until we were home from a restaurant or a movie, and then she'll say something like, "You know that teacher, whom we met, who acted so strangely? That was the one I told you about."

I never forget a face, and after the initial message of just what they did so rudely, I usually react like Ann knows I will. It's why she never tells me until I am far enough away. Ann also makes me promise that I will not embarrass her by telling them what is on my mind. I love my Sweetheart, and so I do not retaliate, but if they are stupid enough to do something rudely in front of me, I figure the deal's off.

And like my father taught me from his example, I never accept anyone treating my wife disrespectfully in my presence. Dad never allowed anyone to do that with his mother or wife. Dad was the ultimate example of what a male should teach his son.

3. In reference to my wife refusing to be negative with those who are difficult at work. People, who react in a positive way, like my wife, are in a small minority, and in the work Ann does now at the state level, her reputation is one of being able to work with anyone, regardless how impossible the task seems. Respecting people is what she does. It's another reason I love her.

It's also a reason it was never difficult to treat my in-laws so well. She treated my family respectfully, and I have done the same thing.

4. Holding hands is something I have not done as much since being very sick. It's not that I don't love her like I always have. It's because I'm afraid of falling and making both of us hit the ground, and that's not a joke on my part. I tend to trip, but I usually catch myself, but when I don't, I make a big splash.

It scares those who see it, like the time my grandson Jack saw me fall in the garage.

Between chemo and my need to play football in high school, the two things left me in a horrible physical condition.

5. But public displays of affection occasionally happen spontaneously from me. I love road trips with my Sweetie, and when we're on the road, regardless whether it's a long drive or just a short distance to the store, I often enjoy taking her hand in mine before I kiss it and nibble at the knuckles ever so tenderly. It makes her giggle, kind of nervously. "Don't be so soft," she says to me, but I think she likes it. Holding her hand isn't out of the question either. Being near her always made me feel like static electricity. I'm still not too old for that kind of electrical shock.

Few people understand that my feelings were like that, because I always kept them to myself. Most people laugh at the notion of my being "sensitive." But crying is something I never do, except when Wingers took the paddy melt off the menu. Now that was an emotional moment.

I don't do things that embarrass my wife publicly like I once did. There was this time when Ann and I were with some German exchange teachers in Logan at a large convenience store. A song began playing, and I took my Annie in my arms and started to dance in the aisle. It was a funny moment rather than a romantic scene. We have always had fun together.

6. Working at a marriage is essential, but I never considered it a job. It was something I did, because it was just plain fun. Being together is what we prefer.

Having fun together was something we've done on multiple continents and during every moment of our marriage, like in this picture at the German-American Volksfest in Berlin in the early 80's.

Sometimes situations weren't all that fun, but my Annie always helped made it that way.

7. Sometimes marriage is one hell of a roller coaster ride, and making it even more complex is the fact that my Sweetie and I have similar ancestry: Welsh and Scandinavian. Between the Druids and the Vikings, there are rare moments when we decide that a line has to be drawn in the sand, but it is not something that happens frequently.

Maybe the fact that we both "air" feelings openly and honestly is why our relationship remains healthy. However, part of what makes our marriage work is the fact that our love for each other never makes it worth hurting each other in order to be "right" about something.

Maybe that's why our marriage remains so strong, because we "air out" differences when they happen, yet both of us are careful when we etch the mark between us in the sand.

Ironically, after 36 years, I actually look forward to my Sweetie "damning me all to hell," because sometimes it happens when I tease her, and besides, anyone who knows me also knows I need it on occasion, but those people who know me very well also know how tender I am in regards to any type of discussion about my Annie. It's because those people, who know me well, have also seen me deal with people and situations, when I was very clear about telling someone the path they should take to the "netherworld." I was never hesitant or incapable of giving a person an idea of just what was on my mind.

It's important to understand what the two of us have learned during this incredible 36-year journey: just because we have a difference of opinion doesn't mean we need counseling. Besides, I apologize quickly during rare occasions when we have different points of view, even if I think I'm right, because again, hurting someone you love isn't worth that silly type of satisfaction.

8. Surprising her is something I enjoy, but I married someone who is very "low-maintenance." She not only does not like me spending money to impress her, but she also finds it irritating, so my best surprise is going to a movie or visiting a favorite restaurant or writing her a love poem.

The last option is what she prefers. I do it every Valentine's Day and try to write something on her birthday as well. I enjoy giving her roses, but she doesn't like that either.

Pretentious is worth an ounce of horse manure is not just a quote from one of her favorite movies, but it is also something that defines her. Her philosophy is this: is what you do something you do to impress me, or is it something you need to do to impress other people?

I find it difficult, but I do as she wishes.

Funny thing is how she surprises me. She once surprised me with a trip to Greece. Then there were the many trips to California, and even though my compulsion to buy 60's music is an irritation, she still does it for me. She does it because she loves me, and we do things like that for each other.

I'm just glad we traveled when we did, a time when we both were able to walk without physical problems that limited mobility. Now just being with grandchildren or just sitting down to watch something together is a great moment during any day.

9. Giving her hugs is such a simple thing, but I do it, so that she never questions how much I love her.

This picture is the low point of my life. I knew I was in trouble when my Annie tried to cheer me up with a new release of John Lennon's accoustic works, and I asked her to take it back, because I really didn't need any more music. Now I can't believe I said that, but at the time, I was very sick. I was very sad at the thought of what might happen.

My doctor, who by the way was also a very good friend, gave me two weeks to two months. When being frank about my situation at that time, he had tears in his eyes.

My Annie never gave up on me, and in spite of how depressed I was during that battle with cancer, I refused to give up--not because I was afraid of death, but because I couldn't bear the thought of being without my Sweetheart for any time at all, and besides I still live with the hope that I will survive to be there for her like she was for me during those "dark times."

10. Giving hugs is what you do when you love someone. Walter Mathau once described how he would raise children: "Cover then with kisses and

smother them with love."

That's pretty much my mission statement. It's how I treat my soul mate, and it's how I relate to my beautiful grandchildren as well.

People who talk schedules or checklists, when it comes to expressing love in an intimate way, need some serious counseling. They should stick to raising house pets, because being a slave to some list like that is like not hugging your Sweetheart at all.

I do it because I love her, and I do it as often as I can, because I love her.

Our favorite recording artist Neil Young once wrote: "To give a love, you've got to live a love. To live a love, you've got to be part of."

It's what you do when you love someone.

11. I don't know if I changed my Sweetie, because I loved her as long as I can remember, and at my age, the remember thing should be a challenge, but I still have a long memory, and I know this: she forever changed my life in so many ways. Being with her is like a part of heaven.

And how did my Sweetie change my life? Her manner has taught me to maintain a positive stance in the face of insurmountable reasons to do otherwise. It's what she does, and it's what she encourages me to do.

The worst difference of opinion we ever had was when she encouraged me to complete a MA degree in English rather than mess with simple college credits that didn't apply to that goal. She was out of patience with my taking classes merely climbing a bit higher on a salary schedule. They were credits that meant little if anything at all, especially if you changed districts or ever earned a higher degree.

She was right, and my MA degree in English changed my career.

Education is such an incredible force for good. People always encouraged me to do it, but my Sweetheart was always there to ensure that I actually did it.

12. Every day I feel overwhelmed at how blessed I am to have her in my life. I realize during every waking moment why I love her.

It's the look she gives me first thing in the morning. There is no question in my mind, and she doesn't have to say anything, because I know she loves me.

It's the concern she has for me. It's the look in her eyes when she looks at me.

It's the hope she has that I will always be here for her. Those are things that helped me stay alive when the Grim Reaper had his grip on the rear pockets of my jeans.

13. But there is one more thing that is important to consider. Treating her well is something I hope I do every minute. It's because it's what I choose to do. It's what my father taught me to do as I watched him create a loving relationship with my mother.

14. And because I'm Welsh, I'm also a bit superstitious, so I can't end this list with just an unlucky number of items. Doing all these things is not a sacrifice. It's what you do when two people love each other.

Enjoying the Moment

What's sad about the human condition is how many times we ignore the opportunity to bask in the moment. I can't answer for everyone, but I find myself wallowing in nostalgic memories of a past that somehow seems so much more pleasing.

But it's easy to do that in this picture. Cles is in eighth grade. We've lived in Idaho Falls long enough to call it home.

Rigby School district recruited me, and I joined the ranks of their high school after teaching one year at Bonneville High. I began with a small number of German students in a failing program, and in one year, I doubled its size, although I fought some nasty political moves by a department chair and Spanish teacher, who didn't really help as much as he promised to do initially.

He failed to tell me when the night arrived to recruit students from the junior high. That move alienated me from him, because it cost me dearly in the next year. He fought against my getting a German class at the junior high. That move changed daily, and I called to ensure that the district actually did it, but it took me calling every day to undo what he did within hours of my call. They eventually had the offering the next year, but it was a fight.

But in spite of every political move he accomplished, I still doubled had twice as many students the next year, but the politics appeared again. An administrator showed me how my department chair refused to give me extra classes to expand the program. They just filled more seats in classes that were already very full.

After taking the Bonneville High group to Germany, the district manager did not do my direct deposit correctly, so when I returned from Germany with all the expenses I always had on my account from doing that service for students, I found my personal bank account thousands of dollars in the red.

I called the district office, and the man was obtuse. It's a word I can use that isn't offensive, although I know many euphemisms I could use to describe that miserable man. He told me that he would fix the situation in four weeks or more. The account was already almost three dollars in the red, due to his mistake.

I was angry, and I told the man, that I would be at his office in ten minutes to get a check to take to my bank in Malad. I arrived a bit sooner than that, but the check was there, and he was intelligent enough not to be any where near that check when I picked it up that day.

Upon arriving home on that summer day, the phone rang. It was a call from Jefferson County School District, who wanted to interview me the next day. I took the job minutes after the interview, and in the first year, I went from 30 students to over 160.

The district office kept their promises to allow me to offer a full schedule of German classes. The English Department Chair was upset, because he wanted me teaching classes. I had an MA in English, and he very much liked what I did, but I wanted to teach German.

The picture shows these moments. It's an example why I often ignore the present. It was easy to hope for a future when I would accomplish the goal of teaching only German, since it was something I had wanted in over a decade, but school politics never allowed it. Either a department chair or a building principal or school board members always chose to make it impossible. It's easy to think about the future.

But this picture shows our family. My dad took the picture, and within two years, his cancer would return, and in February of 1991, he would be only a pleasant memory of a friend who was no longer there for me to call or to visit or to help on weekends or summers at the ranch. And our children were still small. It was a time when I would loved to have had the chance to enjoy the moment--helping Cles with learning how to play football, or watching Lydia develop a sense of confidence in herself, or seeing Kristin develop an incredible singing voice. Each of my own little ones had these incredible gifts, and I never had the time to enjoy it.

After my dad's passing in 1991, my grandmother, who is also in the picture, pleaded for me to drive to Ogden to make another visit. I told her I would do it after our German exchange that year.

Our plane took off in horrible weather in the summer of '91. We landed in Salt Lake surrounded by clouds. The pilot set the plane down very roughly. My heart pounded in my throat.

Oddly enough, I had worried about a problem that year. My grandmother had worried too, and when I called her, she had sensed that things on that trip were beginning with a rough start because of dangerous weather conditions. I called her in Salt Lake, just after deplaning and arriving at our gate.

My grandmother cried, something I only experienced once in my life. I was a bit older than three, and my grandfather had passed away, and at the next family dinner at grandma's house, I as downstairs. In dreams, my grandfather would appear to me and talk to me in the night.

In my child's mind, I knew he was in his house. I made a search that day when I was still a toddler, when my grandmother asked me what I was doing downstairs, I told her about my search for my grandpa. I made her cry.

And now I heard it again on the phone. Within two weeks, my grandmother was in a car accident, which threw her from the car. She rolled down the asphalt pavement, and grandma's injuries included brain stem damage. At the emergency room, she had to be resuscitated, which was a mistake, because that call at the beginning of my trip would be the last time to talk with my grandmother.

The picture at the top of the page was a great day. Dad was there. My grandmother was there, and my children were home and young and all doing very well. We had so much, even though we had the typical worries about work, about the mortgage, about other "little things." It was a great day.

Tommy's Early Years

This was fun to see. It's an advantage to take a look at the pictures my Annie has on her laptop, because I've never seen many of them.

My guess is that Ann found some pictures that Lydia had on file while she was in Minnesota in January.

I remember Ann saying that she had some things on her laptop, but these are truly fun to see.

It's sad that we didn't take more pictures of our own children when they were small like this, but even more tragic is the fact that I don't have photographs of when Ann and I were this age. Digital cameras have changed society. You don't have to wait to have pictures "developed."

But I do miss some of those bulky things we used to take pictures in those early days.

Princess Binky

This reminds me of the years immediately after 2006, when we spent so much time at Disneyland. We had Premium Passes, so the trip was very inexpensive for us. We would leave from Idaho Falls and drive as far as possible, usually at least as far as Vegas.

On most trips, we would try to leave early enough to arrive in California in the late evening.

When we found the Ontario exit, we would call Lydia. The drive was only a brief five or ten minutes away at that point.

Lydia would be standing on the side walk at the edge of the parking lot, just outside the apartment. Holding Anna in her arms, Tommy would stand at her side and hold her hand. As soon as Tommy spotted us, he would begin jumping up and down. It was always a great moment.

Jack and Tommy and Sledding

This was a fun day for the two little boys, although Uncle Cles had a good time with them too.

Jack and Tommy had coaxed to go sledding, and finally it was warm enough to go, at least for anyone under the age of 35.

Pop Pop just isn't a winter sport enthusiast, even as much as he lives his grandchildren.

After packing everything and making the preparations to go, everyone took off for a short day of fun.

It was a typical winter day, sunny and then suddenly cold, gray and dismal. But the boys were so excited.

Everyone had a turn at going down with one of the boys or both. Jack and Tommy loved it. It's funny how little ones don't understand why adults hate the cold. Jack and Tommy are so young and alive. Their little bodies are so full of energy, that the snow practically melts when they step from the car. Both little boys were so excited.

Then as quickly as the fun began, it was finished and time to go home.