Time for the old man to brag a little

They say not to pat your own back, because you might break your arm in the process. So I won't. Except to say that I must have some darn fine genes. Pay attention...that's genes, not jeans, for you folks who aren't so good with the vocabulary.

Drew's basketball team is 1-8, which obviously isn't so good. Of course, that is one more win that I ever managed as a head football coach, much to my consternation. For you jeans people, that means I didn't much care for it. Now, 1-8 stinketh, but this much is true: Drew is the man. He scored 14 in a losing effort to Pioneer on Tuesday night. They got beat by 3, and Pioneer is I think undefeated, and I know they won the Midwest Conference tournament. He scored 16 when they got beat by Winamac on Monday night. They have one game left (next Monday at home against South Newton for those of you keeping score), and to this point he is averaging probably 10-12 per game, and there's no question he's the best player on the team. Being that their record is what it is that might not be saying much, but he is routinely guarded by the other team's best player, and WC's coach is finally having Drew defend their best guard. Let it be known that I did beat him in a game of one-on-one last night while wearing cowboy boots. He's twelve now, and the old man can still take him. Woo-hoo!

Maybe I can treat this thing as more of a journal, spend 15-20 minutes putting something up, and post pictures only on occasion. The pictures are really a pain with blogspot.

Brenna's PE class at the Dub shifted into swimming mode today...God help us. If Brenna had fun swimming 27 days in a row, she still would throw a fit about swimming that 28th day. She's really hard to reason with--it's a lot like reasoning with a newel post. She invariably has her way of thinking, but it's bankrupt. Brenna is a perfect example of why 5-year-olds aren't allowed to run for President. Kinda like why we must not, must not elect that Hillary.

I've taken up residence at Jim Dobson Ford in Winamac. In the past three weeks, I believe I've made five or six trips there for various reasons. Oil change in Black Bart, service bulletin work in Black Bart (two trips), air won't get warm in Blue Van (two trips)... at least they have popcorn and ESPN. Come to think of it, maybe I do enjoy going there. I've got Steve on a hunt for a silver, half-ton, 4-wheel drive, crew cab, 40-20-40 front seat, Ford truck. If any of you have one of those in your front yard you'd like to sell me, let me know.

Y'all come back now, hear?

Another reason to eat Cheetos and sit on the couch...

A man died today while participating in the Chicago marathon. It was very hot and humid, and according to the report I read online tonight, Chad Schieber's heart stopped and he died right there on the race course. That sucks, and I don't say that lightly.

I figure Mr. Schieber probably fit into one of three categories of runners: first, perhaps he was an extremely fit man who ran marathons on a regular basis. Second, perhaps he was an old jock who ran to try to stay in shape and stave off the ravages of middle age. Third, perhaps he was a man who had gotten way out of shape and decided to set a major goal that would require him to get back in shape and get his life back onto a healthy course. I have a friend like that. The Chief used to run all the time, and he was even training for a marathon about 20 years ago or so until he fell on his head and suffered a major injury, which threw his training right out the window. He decided to get back out on the road and wound up setting a goal to run in the Little Rock marathon, and he did it. The Chief earned the biggest finisher's medal in the world.

Inaway, there is some irony in a guy dying while running a marathon. Unless he was way too lumpy to be running that far when it's 88 degrees (26.2 miles...are you serious?), Chad Schieber is evidence of this fact: when it's your time to go, it's your time. The Bible says that no one can add any length to their life by worrying, and I would submit that the same is true of running, eating brussel sprouts, and driving a Toyota Prius. People like to euphamistically say something like, "The Big Guy upstairs had another plan." Folks, just for the record, let's be clear here. The Big Guy upstairs is God, and what He says goes... there ain't no fountain of youth and there ain't no arguing.

By the way, I'm watching the Beloved as I type this thing, and brother, do they stink. How can it be that you can't find even an average quarterback in twenty years? My nephew JD runs harder than Cedric Benson, my son Drew makes better decisions than Griese/Grossman, and The Octopus (Braden, our 19-month-old) drops fewer passes than Bernard Berrien. Oh well, at least the Cubs got knocked out of the playoffs.

On that note, which of these two scenarios is more desirable? Scenario #1: finish 25 games out of the division lead like the Sox and have plenty of time to lick your wounds in private, or Scenario #2: win the division by virtue of being the least bad team in a dogcrap division like the Cubs, then proceed to the national stage and get beat as fast as possible in humiliating fashion. Cub fans take heart: next year is the 100th anniversary of your last championship, so the odds are getting better and better all the time. I was cracked up hard core by Lou Pinella's post-game conference. His team just picked up the soap and got prison-shower raped by the Diamondbacks, then Old Blou had the gumption to go on the talkbox and say, "We made a lot of progress this year, and next year we'll do better." Hey Lou, seven of the eight teams who made the playoffs in '06 did not make it in '07, and your team isn't the Yankees. Year after year less than half the teams who make the playoffs do not make it back the following year. In fact, each of the last three World Series champs has failed to make the playoffs the following year. But Lou has the gall to say that they're just getting started. The Cubs managed 85 wins this year in a division that is, bar none, the worst in baseball. The Sox only had 13 fewer wins (granted, that's a lot), and they had an unbelievably bad year. Go, Cubs, Go...go away.

For all those of you who are Cubs fans and are itching to post a comment, take heart...next year will be here in five months, and you can begin the process of dying slowly all over again!

Thank you for reading my rant, and enjoy the mushrooms.

Hang on...

I took this picture at Queechee Gorge, Vermont, and it was one of the few pictures out of the hundreds I took that had a specific purpose. Queechee Gorge advertises itself as "the Grand Canyon of the East." I'd say...not quite...but even so, it was beautiful. We took a trail to the bottom of the gorge, and as we walked along the way we came to the spot in the picture. There was a series of small rapids, and the water was battered around as it made its way toward the Atlantic Ocean. As the water cleared the rapids, there were a few small rocks and such in the stream bed that disturbed the surface of the water, causing a few small ripples. After that, though, it was smooth sailing, and you can see in the picture that the water became as smooth as glass.

As soon as I saw it, I tried to get myself in a position to shoot down through the rapids, to enable the viewer to see the rough water, the water beginning to smooth out, and eventually the glassy water all in the same shot. My thinking follows thus, and you all know how profound I can be.

Life happens. Things come up, and often we wish our circumstances were different. It just seems like too much to bear, you know? Here's what I think we learn as we go through life. Hang on...right now you're going through the rapids, but eventually things will smooth out. It may not happen soon, and it may not happen the way you think, but smooth water lies ahead. I think I'll take that picture and have a big poster-type thing made out of it with this caption, "And it came to pass..." Christian comedian Mark Lowry talks about that. That comes from the first verse of Luke 2, which says, "And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered." Good or bad, it came to pass.

Whew, all this profundity is taxing! It's easier for me to be silly.

I'm going to Jacksonville for a few days tomorrow...unfortunately, that's Illinois, not Florida. In our insurance business we work with Diversified Services, and they are based in Jacksonville. I'm going down to meet with a few successful agents to get some ideas, some training, and so forth. My hope is that I can incorporate some of what they do that makes them successful into my business practices, unlike my time at The Valley. Our goal there was to take Best Practices (which is to say those things that are making good schools good) and perform plastic surgery so it worked...or rather didn't work...for our particular situation. The plastic surgery we performed commonly at The Valley was the type of surgery where you take a beautiful model and attempt to tweak her nose, but instead she comes out looking like Jerry Stiller. Oi. Anyway, I'll be gone for a couple of days, so if there are any bad people out there reading this blog, stay away from my house until I get back.

Early archery season starts today, and while I'm not taking time to go out today, I do have a goal for this hunting season. It's tempered a bit from last year's goal, which was to harvest a nice buck. My new goal is this: I'd just like to see a dadgum deer while I'm sitting out there with a bow in my hand! I've only been hunting (or, more accurately, taking my bow and sitting in a tree in the woods looking at the leaves, getting excited if a squirrel walks by) for two years, and thus far I have yet to see anything. That might lead you to think that there aren't any deer where I go, but I say to you that evidence points to the fact that our woods is Grand Central Station for the local whitetail population. Scrapes, prints, bedding areas...it's all there. I just have to be in the right spot at the right time. So, this year, a new goal: I just hope to see something!

My advice: enjoy a corndog today. Dip it in mustard.

Ballet

Since Mike has been busy with Morgan learning how to calibrate yield monitors, laying a hardwood floor in our foyer, attending football games, doing Sunday School lessons, and the list goes on....... I thought I'd put in a little blurb about what Alex and Brenna are now up to. We have entered a new phase in the McKay household entitled "Ballet." This is definitely very different for Mike who enjoys things with "balls." Brenna's dream is to grow up to be a ballerina, which is awfully hard for someone who has never taken a class! Alex comes home from art class many times showing us ballet moves Ms. Lavingette has taught a few of the interested girls if they are done early with their current project. A few weeks ago we saw where a former West Central Elementary teacher who did ballet for many years was having registrations in Winamac for fall classes. We decided to let the girls try it at least this semester. As the teacher is due with her second child the end of November, it is a short series this fall. So far, they are both enjoying it very much and seem to be catching on quickly. Makayla is taking classes with them also. If anyone is interested, their recital will be Saturday, November 17.

Unpost of previous posting which was posted

I had an entry up yesterday, but I decided to take it down. Sorry, loyal readers. I'll work something up tomorrow. West Central plays Winamac tonight and I'm taking Drew and two of his friends to the game, then we're going to Coffee House at the church afterwards. Fun will be had by all.

This is short and worthless, but it's mostly to explain why the blog is gone that some of you may have read yesterday.

Getting Involved

They grow up fast, don't they?

Allow me that cliche', friends. It's in reference to my four little children, who aren't so little any more. As blogged previously, I took Hot Wife and The Octopus to Chicago last Friday night. We had to sort of hustle back Saturday morning because Drew had a team in a 3-on-3 tournament at the Francesville Fall Festival. He had a team last year that wasn't very competitive, so he put a little more thought into assembling this team and had high hopes that this team would do better. I say "sort of hustle" because we left the hotel around 8:00 or so. While that isn't early, it's about 4 hours earlier than we would have preferred.

On a side note that isn't too far off the path here, let me take a minute to say that Drew is a great kid. I'm entitled to brag a little bit here because he's nothing like me at all. He got a few of his interests from me, but beyond that he's pretty much a carbon copy of Valerie, which is a good thing. He was one of two students in his class to get straight A's all the way through elementary school. He was student of the month in every grade, and two teachers told us they saved his award for the month that received special recognition. His teachers routinely asked Drew to befriend new students, as well as students who are sort of difficult--all you teachers out there know the ones I'm talking about. Drew is also one of the top athletes in his grade, at least to this point. He's the point guard on the basketball team, and when they had a 5th grade spring football team, he scored a 75 yard touchdown the first time he touched the ball. He was by far and away the best pitcher in his baseball team this summer as well. He's popular with the ladies, but so far he thinks they all have cooties...which I'm pleased with! I know that will change in time, but we'll ride this for as long as we can. Everything I like to do he enjoys as well, which is a tremendous blessing. We're both into sports, woodworking, kayaking, reading, Purdue football, and White Sox baseball. The only rooting difference we have is that I root for The Beloved Bear, but Drew is a Saints guy because his favorite player is Drew Brees. I can definitely respect that. So all in all, he's a good little dude.

Drew's 3-on-3 team did better than last year's squad, but they came up a little short. It was a double elimination tournament, and they won two games before getting knocked out. I included a few shots of him in action. You will also notice that Drew was dead tired after he finished playing. He fell asleep with Braden in his arms while we were headed home, and he took about a two hour nap as soon as we got there. (By the way, for those of you who are wondering why Braden is not in his car seat, this is my defense: we went to the Fall Festival straight from Chicago, and the back was full of lathe and accessories. We seldom, seldom, seldom take Braden anywhere out of his seat; in this case I took back roads all the way home. Please don't send the Bad Men after me.)

On to Alex' involvement in the Festival. She is in a singing group at school, and they sang Sunday afternoon. If this blog wasn't taking me so long to do (I'm watching the Beloved at the same time I'm writing this) I would include a side note on Alex too. She too is a wonderful little girl, very sweet and very responsible...unless you include keeping her room clean in there. My mom was down over the weekend, and I'm sure she was horrified at the girls' room! There's a shot of Alex singing included here.

I called this entry "Getting Involved" because Drew and Alex are both getting more involved in things all the time. They have to make choices, and we certainly don't allow them to be involved in everything they would like to do, but we're getting to that stage. Drew will be heavily into sports, whereas my guess is that Alex will lean more towards the music and drama-type things. She likes volleyball and basketball, so she may do those things too. Please, God, just keep her away from cheerleading!

Thank you for reading my little blog.

Let's Go Green

I am a big fan of the Chicago White Sox.

Whewww, I said it. It's finally out. And allow me to add that I cannot stand the Chicago Cubs. I would like nothing better than to see them lose 12 straight here...just absolutely go down in flames like the bunch of flamers they are. I hope they lose the NL Central by 10 games. For those of you poor souls out there who say, "I root for both the Cubs and the White Sox," I say phooey on you. Do you root for both Hilary (that's the root word for hilarious) Clinton and Mike Huckabee? Do you root for both Lex Luthor and Superman? Do you root for both God and Satan? Do you root for both Jerry Seinfeld and Newman? C'mon here, make a decision! No fence-sitting for me--I'm a Sox guy.

In 2005 it was fun to be a Sox fan, you know? People were even jumping in the bandwagon, riding the coattails of the real fans just like the White Sox were riding the right arms of Jose Contreras and Jon Garland. This year...not so much. They're about the worst team in baseball. But I'll tell 'ya this, boys and girls--it's still fun to go to the ballpark!

Friday night was Halfway to St. Pattie's Day at the old ballpark. In honor of the day, the boys in black wore their green uniforms...my personal favorites. In case you wonder why in Sam Hill the Sox would wear green uniforms, it is due to the fact that Chicago's history is heavily influenced by the Irish. I know this to be true because my brother is a history teacher, and therefore I'm not allowed to make up historical events or facts. I've been wearing a green Sox hat with the shamrock for several years. In fact, my old hat went stinky so I bought a new one at the ballpark back on my birthday. People often see it and attempt to mock me. "The White Sox don't wear green, you idiot." Sometimes I let them know otherwise, but often I just let it go. Best not to have a battle of wits with the unarmed.

Valerie and I left home mid-morning on Friday to head up Chicago way. On the way we made a few stops (she bought Drew and I a mini-lathe so we can begin making all of our Christmas presents!...at least that's the plan), but we made it to the Big Windy mid-afternoon. We stayed at the Palmer House Hilton...that's right, kids...22nd floor...executive level. You know how sometimes you can't really afford to do something, but you just really want to do it anyway? This is an example of that. Never having stayed anywhere near downtown before--in fact, I rarely get anywhere north of Comiskey Park or west of the Dan Ryan--it was fun to enjoy a little swank.

We took the Red Line to the ballpark ($2 each--that's the way to go) and I gotta tell you, there is just nothing in life quite like walking through the tunnel and emerging into the bright sunshine of a beautiful baseball stadium. Stories don't always have a happy ending, but this one does! The Sox won 5-3 behind the solid pitching of Jose Contreras and the Big Wide Guy (remember Ozzie calling for Jenks at the end of WS '05 Game 1?). Big Jim Thome is sitting on 499 home runs and we were hoping to see #500, but alas, he struck out twice instead. So it wasn't a perfect evening, but it was close. The brats were hot and the sauercraut was tasty.

My mom came from Columbus to watch the three older ones, which was much appreciated. Dad is healing nicely from his hip replacement so she was able to get away for a night. She took the kiddies to Pizza Hut and they had a good time.

I hope you enjoyed this installment of The McKay Chronicles.

Thank you, Kevin

This post is a tribute to my great and good friend, Uncle KeKe. My faithful readers--and even those who only check this thing once in a blue moon (particularly since I'm only posting about that often any more, although I have taken steps that should correct that issue)--have probably noticed a Kevin that has posted a comment to virtually every entry. This is my most faithful reader, and it was he who encouraged me to think about doing this thing because he wanted to follow along with The Big Trip. This one's for you, big guy.

Uncle KeKe is one of those people you don't meet very often. Not only is he a Christian man in a heathen world, but he's also a genuinely good teacher. In my experience as a Highly Qualified Teacher, I came to believe good people who are also good teachers are a rarity. Oh, there are lots of teachers who say they are good, and there are a few more who probably think they are good, but we're suffering from a shortage of truly good teachers: those faithful few who teach something worth learning, know what they are talking about, and have a real (as opposed to pretending--just saying it, all the while knowing it isn't true) interest in seeing kids succeed, both in their class and in the larger classroom of experience. The technology department at The Valley is chock full of guys who meet those qualifications, but none of them have the connection with kids that Uncle KeKe does. Thank you, Unc! Keep fighting the good fight, and don't forget that it's okay to throw your weight around when change is needed. You're the Golden Child, and they need you there!

Three fotos today (dropped a little Spanish on you there). The first two are the new counter we have in our office here at good old Timm Services/Fulmer Seed and Service. Those pictures find themselves in this post for two reasons: first, because I thought everyone might enjoy seeing where Hot Wife and I work (note the distinct lack of students, administrators, and passing periods); and second, because we bought it from Uncle KeKe and he wants to see what it looks like in the office. It really only sort of works in the office because it's so fancy! But we like it, the guys like it, and it serves its purpose. We needed something that would give a guy a place to stand and write his check (that's important around here...), a place to have some candy in a glass jar, and something that would at the same time allow us to have our stuff handy but not be in the way of the other two things. Thanks, Unc, it works well and the price was right.

The third picture is The Octopus. I heard a little squeal from him today and, upon walking into the meeting room of our office, found him sitting in the Longaberger basket, playing with the kitty, and enjoying a bottle. He wasn't stuggling to get out...he just enjoyed relaxing for a few minutes then want along his merry way! He's a funny little guy.

FYI--Hot Wife and I will be gone tomorrow, so don't expect us to show up at your bar mitzvah. While The Big Trip occurred during our anniversary, there were too many urchins around to really consider it an anniversary trip. So we're going to The Home of The Greatest Team Ever in the morning to spend a night at the Palmer House Hilton (Tower level...oolala), catch a ballgame (Halfway to St. Pattie's Day game!--green uniforms), and tear up the shops. Victoria's Secret, here I come! That gal ain't got many secrets left, ya know what I mean?

Green, huh?

I dang near forgot what this blog looked like. The whole posting every day thing...yeah. Not gonna happen. But I'll do my most bestest (y'all from KV know where that came from...Phearless) to keep this thing current enough that at least a few of you will check back in occasionally!

So I've been about three weeks on the New Job, and I would summarize the difference between what I'm doing now and what I used to do in this manner: "Aaaaaah. That's better." It's a lot like when you put on a pair of new shoes, then go walk 20 miles on a difficult trail. At best, your feet hurt like a mother. At worst, amputation would be a blessing. But then, eventually, at the end of the trail you sit down, unlace the boots, and peel them off your feet. The feeling as your toes uncrimp themselves and you can breath again is one of immediate relief. That's how it is for me, beloved readers. Eleven years at The Valley. Oi. To be fair, it's not all peaches and cream on the new job. My desk is small, and the location chosen for me is in the Crapper Corner. The most astute among you will know that I chose those petty things to indicate that there's pretty much nothing about the New Job I don't like. The biggest differences between what I was doing and what I'm doing now:

1. No more of the foolish, cowardly, blown-about-by-the-slightest-breeze leadership that is dragging KV to the bottom of the cesspool right now

2. Not a single tattooed, pierced, underwear-showing, profanity-spouting, cellphone-using, gangbanger-wannabe around the office

3. While I do my best to put in my office time and work my way through the extensive to-do list I generated for myself as well as the one that Gene put together for me, it is an indescribable blessing to be free from an outwardly-imposed schedule. I took Valerie's van to the shop today in Winamac (Jeff's Tire & Alignment--Jeff does great work; how's that for a shameless plug?) at 9:00 and was able to wait for him to get it done. We spent probably 30 minutes visiting while one of his guys worked on our brakes. I didn't have to take a sick day or a personal day or whatever to do it, either. I LOVE having a free schedule. This is a slow time of the year for us in the crop insurance business, although that will change very soon as more guys start shelling corn.

I had lunch with the guys at KV today, and it was weird to be back in the building. It was almost like the old darkeness settled over me as soon as I walked back in the building. I enjoyed visiting with the guys, the spicy chicken salad sandwiches Tater brought in were great, and I used the Tormek to sharpen all three of my hand planes. But as soon as those things were accomplished, I couldn't wait to get the heck out of Dodge. I pray God's blessings upon Kevin K, Kevin S, Kevin M, Paul, Jeff Me, Jeff Ma, Ron, Ryan, Bill, DJ, and all my other buddies, cause KV is not an easy place to work. It's an even harder place to work for teachers who actually have a desire to see their kids grow and learn--which many teachers do not, but all of those guys do. There are lots and lots of "teachers" who are doing nothing more than putting in their time. Worksheet, worksheet, worksheet. A shame for the kids.

I threw in a few gratituous pictures of the family at the Holidome in Indy. We went there straight from Maine and had a great time. Erika and her family, Jess and her family, and G&M joined Clan Mackay for a rollicking good time.

The first picture is Martha with Makayla (Jess & Morgan's oldest; Makayla and Brenna are absolute best of buds), and the second picture is Brenna going down a slide.

More later, muchachos.

Firsts Day @ Clan Mackay

1 down, 179 to go. School has begun; great joy for some, much consternation for others.

Three big firsts in the McKay household today. 1st first: today was Brenna's first day of kindergarten. She is in Mrs. Linback's class at West Central. As a recently retired teacher, I was available to drop off the yahoos along with Hot Wife this morning. It was cute watching Alex and Brenna walking into school holding hands. Alex was walking pretty fast so Brenna's little legs were really pumping to keep up. She had a good first day and Mrs. Linback is a wonderful teacher. I expect Brenna will be running the class shortly.

2nd first: today was Drew's first day in middle school. He has a locker, walks from class to class during passing periods, and he gets more food than students in the elementary building. He also has the potential of being tardy to class, so we dropped him off first. West Central MS is a Block 4 school, so Drew will have 90 minute classes, then a whole new set of classes after Christmas.

3rd first: today was Mike's unofficial first day working full-time at Timm Services. Of course, mid-August isn't an especially busy time in crop insurance, so my time today and for the forseeable future will be spent getting things figured out, working on various things (particularly computer projects) that have been awaiting my arrival, and beginning a few new projects to build the business. I arrived around 8:30, headed for the John Deere dealership around 9:30 to pick up our new mapping software (we write crop insurance for John Deere Risk Protection), and made it back to the office just in time for a lunch meeting with our church's assistant pastor. We ate lunch at West Central, which Scott does occassionally to visit with our kids who attend there as well as meeting new students. Ironic, huh? I get out of education largely due to the unhealthy/tasteless food, and on my very first day of freedom from KV I eat school lunch!

This is my first blog entry in, what, a week or so? When we got home from The Big Trip I was unable to get on the internet. Couldn't figure out why for three days. Restarted the computer a few times, reset the wireless router a few times, ran the troubleshooter...all that jazz. There is a nice little computer store in Winamac, so I popped in there on my way through town to see if they could figure it out. Turns out there's a little sliding switch on the front of the laptop that, if slid to the left making the light turn orange, prevents the computer from detecting network connections. Go figure. That which eluded me for three days took the nice man, who didn't even charge me anything, about 30 seconds. For those of you at The Valley, it was a lot like going in to ask Ron Hine a question. You walk in completely befuddled, and walk out feeling like Elmer Fudd. I guess there are things at which I enjoy a certain level of expertise, but finding switches on the front of computers is evidently not on that list. Bet that won't ever happen again.

It's fun to work in the office with HW. I can't see how she ever gets anything done, what with The Octopus running around pulling everything down. He's a trip.

Goodbye from Medaryville.

Quick note about comments

As I posted the last blog just a few minutes ago, I scrolled down through a few of the old ones, looking to see if any new comments have been posted.

A brief note about comments--please leave them. I cannot tell you how gratifying it is to see that people are looking at this thing. I think I'm beginning to leave more of a diary, almost for myself, which is a change. My intention is to continue this blog as a record of what goes on in our family, which may not be of interest to many of you.

I set the format of this thing so anyone can leave a comment with no need to do anything special. Honestly, seriously, if you leave only, "Joe from Wichita--read the blog" that's enough. It's not as though I'm getting anything for it, I just like to see who has checked it out. My sister-in-law told me tonight, "I've read it every day, but I've only left a few comments because I didn't know what to say." There are a few blogs I check on occasion, and this I pledge: If I read it, I'm gonna leave something just so the poor fellow knows he's not the only one on this road!

Dude, I got the DT's

Today is the day after Christmas, times about twenty.

You know how you so look forward to Christmas day, to the giving of favorite gifts about which you've been so excited? We spend months looking for things our children and loved ones will enjoy, we wrap them lovingly and place them under the tree (which we also spent several hours picking out and decorating with specially purchased ornaments and lights). The anticipation of the day is almost overwhelming, particularly for the young ones.

And then the big day arrives. We read the Christmas story and acknowledge in our meager way that the day is about the celebration of when Jesus Christ came to earth--Emmanuel, God With Us. While it is unlikely He arrived on December 25, that Jesus of Nazareth was a real person from a real town is a historic fact. What folks believe about Him from there is a matter of faith, or the lack thereof. And as the sticker in my old classroom at KVHS says, "If you believe there is no God, you better be right!"

Finally, the time for gifts. They are excited, and then quickly ready for the next. Excited about that one, then ready for the next. In an hour or maybe two if you really stretch it, the gift-giving is over. All the months of planning, shopping, anticipation...over in a flash.

And that is exactly how our trip was. I began jotting down ideas and working out two or three possible trips in August and September, made the decision, wrote the grant in September, turned it in, and waited four months to find out if I was among the chosen. The letter arrived in the mail--You got it!--then the planning really began. Choosing the route, booking hotels, looking for fun things to do along the way, and so forth consumed most of four months. It seemed like forever before July 22 would finally arrive. Then, finally, we were on the way! Buffalo, Boston, Gloucester, Deer Isle/Stonington, the WoodenBoat School, Waterville, Quechee, back to Ohio, and now..........fffffffffffffffffffffftttttttttttttttttttttt. Eighteen days of great fun, over in what I would call even less than a flash. A fleeting moment.

That is the sound of my sail going slack as the wind has left it. The Big Trip is over. Kaput. Rats.

We're not home yet. We came first to Indy to spend three days with Hot Wife's family. I'm sure we'll do a few fun things here, and the Indians will be in town on Saturday night, but...well, it's not the same. That thing by which I will soon make my living--corn and soybeans--is in many ways the bane of my existence. Ironic, ain't it? The fact that our slice of the United States has such rich soil, and is so flat and ideally suited for farming, also means we have very little in the way of interesting geography.

I have a confession to make: I live in Medaryville, Indiana. And I don't like it. We have been blessed to traverse much of our great land lately. In the past few years I've been to Tennessee multiple times, backpacking in eastern Kentucky, all the way to the Atlantic Ocean in way south South Carolina, to the Ozarks region of Missouri, and now all the way to mid-coast Maine, missing nothing along the way. I believe I have visited 38 states in my 35 years.

This is what I have learned: My soul is drawn to moving waters. My bucolic state of depression rises and falls in direct proportion to my proximity to moving waters. Everywhere we go, the terrain and other natural geographic features are interesting and beautiful. In and of themselves they encourage vigorous physical activity. I cannot begin to tell you the percentage of cars I saw with Maine license plates that had bicycle and/or kayak racks on top, usually loaded. Today we drove four hours from Mansfield, Ohio, here to Indianapolis, and I saw one. One friggin car with a kayak on top. No wonder the state of Indiana has one of the highest obesity rates in the nation, myself counted among that number, much to my chagrin.

Drew and I both have kayaks now, and rest assured that we will take every opportunity to throw them in a river or maybe one of the tiny local lakes, and I hope to throw the boat in Lake Michigan yet this fall. There are things we can do, and the more tools I have to go do something, the more reasons to believe I will. By the way, the fellow in the picture with Drew and I is Nick Schade, the designer of the kayak and our course instructor. For those of you who are curious, the kayak rode atop the van beautifully.

But alas, for now, it's back to the corn.

Today

Yesterday we played around in Quechee, today we visited Woodstock. Woodstock has such things as shops that specialize in Vermont wool, bookstores, covered bridges, and somewhere in the area is the Appalachian Trail. We drove twice through the area where the AT supposedly crosses the highway, but I saw neither hide nor hair of it. I thought sure there would be through-hikers crossing the road right when we got there; no such luck.

Braden did not get a nap all day yesterday, and he slept for maybe 30 minutes today, but he's going strong. Everyone else is well also. We had lunch today at a little bistro in Woodstock, and supper at Panera Bread across the border in Lebanon, New Hampshire.

For those of you who may be wondering, Dad came through his surgery well. He had a complete hip replacement on Monday morning, and was up and around, albeit gingerly, that afternoon. He started rehab today, and Mom's message on my phone was that the rehab technician was amazed at how willing Dad was to get up and around, and how strong he seemed to be already. It would be like my Dad to have hip replacement and go walk a trail a week later. When he had quintiple bypass surgery 12 years ago the doctor asked him as part of his pre-surgical consultation, "If I asked you to walk around the block right now, could you do it?" Dad's honest reply was, "I played three hours of two-hand touch football yesterday!" He's a tough bird.

That's enough for today. We're leaving very early tomorrow morning for parts unknown and I think my mom is the only one still looking anyway. Tomorrow morning we head toward home. We're heading for Indy to spend three days with Valerie's family at the Holidome before we point Blue Van toward Medaryville. By the way, she's embarrassed about me referring to her as "Hot Wife." I'll just have to apologize. Once a nickname is earned, it pretty well sticks. While in Indy I'll run down and visit the folks either at the hospital or back home in Columbus depending on how many days Dad spends in the hospital. Our plan tomorrow is to drive as far west as we can possibly stand, then get a hotel room wherever we end up. I'd like to make it as far as Cleveland, which is 10 hours from here, but would still leave us with 4 hours on Thursday. When you come this far east, ya gotta get home somehow!

Vermont...home to the world

As they say, that one is for free. The picture of Brenna and Braden playing has nothing to do with today's entry. In fact, it was taken on August 1st while Valerie was writing her entry. Alex took the picture, and she did a good job of capturing the essence of both B's. Brenna is in constant motion; typically there is a little theater in whatever she's doing. Braden just charges ahead, regardless of what is going on around him. We've laughed lately because he's usually the first one on and off the elevator in all these hotels we've been enjoying.

I finally had the opportunity to eat a lobster the other day. The flavor was okay, but it was just way too crunchy for me. Plus you have those beady black eyes openly staring at you. They say that lobsters scream when you drop them in the boiling water, and I can confirm that. Mine was a little undercooked, and it was still sort of whimpering when they brought it out. I had them open it up and put bread crumbs on it so the meat was easier to find because, being a lobster virgin, I just knew I would do something stupid that would cause diners at neighboring tables believe I was from Away. Something other than the fact that I say my r's, I mean. Not knowing the particulars of eating hard shell lobster, I ate the whole thing. There is the constant gnawing fear of leaving something on the plate that would cause a local to guffaw. On Friday we had soft shell lobster at the WoodenBoat School bake. Anybody out there know the difference? A lobster, much like their evil cousin the snake, sheds its shell on occasion. A lobster that has been in its shell for a good long while is a hard shell crab, called that because the shell is hard. After the lobster sheds that shell, it grows a new, larger shell, much like a Medaryvillain (note the spelling towards the end of that word--deliberate) moving from a trailer into a double wide...nice digs. The lobster has not yet grown to fill up that shell yet, thus when you boil it, those empty spaces fill up with water. Ripping off the claw of a soft shell crab results in a spray of water and steam not unlike the scalding coffee that fell into the lap of the 90-year-old woman who subsequently sued McDonalds. And won, by the way. Makes you think, doesn't it?

After much deliberation, I chose to title this entry to the McKay Chronicles Vermont...home to the world. Even a perfunctory observation leads to the obvious conclusion that many of the folks who work at the multitude of shops, restaurants, hotels, and gas stations in the area are not native Vermonters. The gal on the phone at EBA's Pizza (Everything But Anchovies) was from Russia. The fellow at the gas station was from Lebanon--the Middle East vintage Lebanon, not the one south of Lafayette nor the one five miles from here in New Hampshire. I can't think of others right off, but I'm telling you, it's like spending a few nights at Ellis Island. Being Bar-John, or MacJohn depending on your culture of origin, one thing I inherited from Pop is the ability to strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. One memory I have from our family excursions while growing up is Dad pumping gas and talking with whomever happened to pull up across the pump. He can talk to people regardless of circumstances, and usually does. Dad had his right hip replaced this morning, and I would be shocked if he was doing anything other than asking the medicine doctor (anybody know how to spell anestesiologist?) about the hardes time he ever had putting a person under as he was himself headed for a deep sleep. I like to do the same. He came out of surgery in a few hours and is doing well, by the way. Thanks for asking, which I know you were doing!

Tonight Brenna jumped off the side of the pool unassisted for the first time, so I chose to reward her by taking her to the local gas station and allow her to pick out some candy. She took about 20 minutes, perusing the myriad choices upon which I placed no restrictions, finally landing upon a large bag of Mixed Berry Skittles. When we paid, I noted with interest that the station attendant was likely from Away. In reply to my query, he told me that he was from Lebanon. He had been a farmer there, with a farm half the size of Vermont in his words, but he said the ground was no good anymore because of the war. I asked the girl on the phone at EBA's how she managed to get to a little place like White River Junction from a big place like Russia, and she said she didn't really know. She came to Ohio for some forgotten reason and just found herself drifting east. I thought perhaps she was a student at Dartmouth which is about 15 minutes distant, but that was not the case. She was just here to work. All the way from the Motherland, answering the phone at a pizza place. I wonder if that was what she had in mind...

For those of you following along on our itinerary, we had so much fun today that we decided to forego New York City and stay a third night here in Vermont. That was a compromise between Hot Wife and Irksome Husband. NYC was completely my idea--I just couldn't see being this close and not seeing the greatest city in the world. It would likely have been mostly traffic, and it was way south of here but required the same amount of driving west, so I was willing to stay here another night rather than stay in Yankeeville.

By the way, it has come to my attention that some among you have noted that the tone of my writing seemed to change around August 1st, which happens to coincide with our 15th anniversary. A few readers have made the wry observation that I suddenly began referring to my better half as Hot Wife. Why, pray tell? What could have prompted the change? Well, dear friend, here is your answer: I shall leave that to your imagination. There are those among us who are not of age. Suffice it to say she now has her nickname for the trip.

Today we enjoyed Quechee, home to Quechee Gorge, known locally as "the Grand Canyon of the East." Having been to the Grand Canyon, which is something like 1000 feet deep and several hundred miles long, I must report in all candor that Quechee Gorge leaves something to be desired in comparison with The Canyon, and I wonder if perhaps it wouldn't be wiser for the comparison to be with something more along the lines of the gorge at Wildcat Creek out east of Brookston. Quechee Gorge is about 160 feet deep. If they stacked about 10 Quechees atop one another, and quintupled the flow of water, then you'd have something. But it was neat, and the area is certainly beautiful.

We rode a scale train at a little shop in Quechee, which is the picture of Pumpkin Spice and Hot Wife. Braden had noted the train with interest, and being the astute observer that I am as well as the father of four children, I believed he would experience the ride with joy, an event that might ultimately prove to alter the course of his life, that perhaps he might choose to undertake working the rails as a career choice. While he didn't dislike the train, the closest description I can provide is that he seemed either puzzled or indifferent about the whole deal. The expression on his face in the picture was there throughout the 10 minute trip, which took us round the shopping area twice. If only there had been a third loop. I am concerned about the lack of direction he seems to have at this early stage of his life. Maybe something will spark his interest when he begins kindergarten in four years.

We also found a little shop called "Scotland by the Yard." It was chock full of all things Scotland. We dang near cleaned the place out. One thing that I enjoy very much is learning the etymology (is that the right word? I am from Medaryville; I'm talking about the origins of words) of surnames. My brother Mark researched our family a while back, and he was able to take it back quite a while. The research I have done is general stuff on the surname McKay. The info I found at the store today confirmed my research, which was a comfort. It would have been distressing to learn that I had been lying to people lo these many years. Those in my family who share my last name, as well as those members of my family who now have the last name Fetla but who formerly were known as McKay, will have something to look forward to at Christmas...our shopping is almost complete!

From White River Junction, Comfort Suites, 3rd floor...good night, one and all.

By the way, if anyone out there knows a good blogging software, I would appreciate a suggestion. Having done this for a little while now, I am at wits end with this blogspot thing. It is not a wysiwyg program, and it's hard to get pictures where you want them without completely horsing up everything else. If you see strange places in the blog like words broken across two lines, or spaces in some places but not in others, that's the kind of stuff I'm referring to. Help!

On the Road Again

ACT 1

Location: Hotel room in Waterville, Maine

Lighting: as determined by lighting director, appropo to dialogue

Actors: Mom--must be hot; Dad--must be irksome; Elder Son--must be skinny; Elder Daughter--must have freckles; Younger Daughter--must be Brenna (how can one summarize such an actor with one word?); Younger Son--must be a ham

Scene synopsis:

1. Arrive at hotel around 3:30 and discover your staying in the Taj Mahal for the night; hotel room should have full kitchen, fireplace, giant TV, two bedrooms, granite countertops

2. Family swim time; visit with two Jewish women from New York City who may have been the originators of the NYC old Jewish women stereotype

3. Make pancakes and Spam in hotel room (note to producers: please remove slime jelly from Spam before filming scene)

4. Watch Netflix documentary on Ireland

5. Go to Wally world and, among other things, purchase anniverary gift for Hot Wife--fuzzy pink slippers, $4

6. Watch four hours of Shark Week on Discovery channel

7. Spend an hour online searching for a church for Sunday worship

8. Sleep

9. Enjoy breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage links, home fries, pancakes, danishes, and juice

10. Write blog

11. Prep for church (note to producers: bear in mind that getting hot does not take much for Hot Wife and four kids, but we will need to bring the entire design/wardrobe/makeup/lighting team to bear to do anything with Irksome Husband)

12. Attend church at Faith Evangelical Free Church, attendance around 700 according to the website

13. Drive to White River Junction, Vermont (note to producers: Vermont will be a new state, so urination scene is necessary)

14. Enjoy Quechee Gorge and the natural beauty of the area

Casting: note pictures of the various family members included below. Match as you can; it isn't easy to find a leggy blond like Hot Wife nor a grump like Irksome Husband--do what you can.

We've been yakking

How have you enjoyed our trip over these past two days? Have you found the pace to be to your liking? Perhaps the lack of the dissemination of facts has been irksome. Perhaps it has been downright upsetting. To me it has been freeing! The two or three days we blogged at the WoodenBoat School were kind of a pain. At the risk of becoming redundant, the cottage does not have internet access. There are a few hotspots here in Stonington, but nowhere that is interesting enough for the whole clan to engage in stimulating activity while I do my thing. And so, I’m trying something different this time. I’m typing this at the cottage as a Word document, then I’m going to try to sit outside of a hotspot in the car and just cut and paste it! If it doesn’t work, it will likely be yet another day without a post.

Monday, July 30—WBS Day 1
As I type this on Friday evening the kayak is almost done. It was a kit, with all the parts cut out already. On Monday we got all the parts figured out, stained a few pieces as Drew’s design required, glued up the hull pieces, and put epoxy on the outside of all parts. We got our work done around 2:00. Drew and I were the first group done, which has been the case most of the time. The experience I have through building my kayak has been helpful. There are seven kayaks being built in our class, and only three of them are being built by one person.

Tuesday, July 31—WBS Day 2
On Tuesday we stitched the hull parts together, wired them into the forms, and glassed the inside of the hull. Nick Schade is the designer of the kayak, and he is also our course instructor, which is convenient. The hull is made up of about 9 pieces, and rather than make the joints plain or have us scarf them, he designed them with puzzle joints. The type of construction we are using is called stitch and glue. The puzzle pieces have matching holes, which we tie together with copper glue—stitching. We then complete the assembly of each joint by putting a spot of CA glue every ½” or so, spraying on accelerant which cures the glue almost instantly, removing the stitching, and putting a dookie schmutz fillet where two angled pieces come together—glue. Dookie schmutz is a commonly used term among boatbuilders. It’s mixed epoxy with enough wood flour to give it the appearance and consistency of creamy peanut butter. When placed along to surfaces that meet at an angle, it serves two purposes: first, it glues the joint together, and second, the fillet shape of the dookie schmutz makes the joint very strong. For example, on my kayak, the coaming riser is ¼” wide, and the coaming lip is also ¼”. Just applying glue or even fiberglass and epoxy does not provide enough strength because the coaming gets a tremendous amount of abuse. The dookie schmutz fillet makes the joint much stronger. Glassing means we lay in a 4 oz. layer of fiberglass and paint on a thick coat of epoxy, which soaks completely into the fiberglass. A layer of two of fiberglass with cured epoxy is incredibly strong. The wood in a wooden kayak only provides the shape and the appearance for the boat. All of the strength and rigidity comes from the fiberglass/epoxy sandwich on the inside and outside of the boat.

Wednesday, Aug 1—WBS Day 3 & our 15th wedding anniversary!
On Wednesday we glassed the outside of the hull, assembled the deck pieces, wired them into the forms, put dookie schmutz fillets on the inside of the deck, and glassed the inside of the deck. That all sounds like a lot of work, but with some experience under our belt we finished up work around 4:30 or so. That night the fam ate supper at a restaurant in Stonington called Fisherman’s Friend. It was advertised as family friendly, but I don’t know what that means. There wasn’t anything special like clowns or anything. I had a lobster for the first time, and I would summarize the experience in this manner: first, it is a good thing to have because it supports the lobstermen in places like Stonington, and second, it usually runs around $25 for 6-8 oz. of meat that tastes so-so and is a lot of work to get to. Plus, it’s a giant mess. It is a good time crushing the claws, ripping the tail off, and so forth. Valerie and I enjoyed some champagne before retiring for the evening as a little celebration of our wedding anniversary. Valerie is a wonderful wife, and I am so blessed to have her by my side. I think often of the part in the movie Jerry Maguire where Jerry’s secretary/soon to become wife observes a deaf couple as the man signs to his lady. Jerry asks what he said and is told, “You complete me.” That’s how it is with my beautiful wife. I wish I could say that we get along perfectly and like each other all the time. Unfortunately, that’s not the case as we are both human beings and we live in a fallen world. What is true is this—she is wonderful at lots of things that I do horribly, and the opposite is also true. The fact of the matter is this—Valerie completes me. While we don’t always like each other, we love each other very much and we are both completely committed to our marriage. Too many couples give up on their marriage because they fall out of like and there is no commitment. Praise God our marriage is based on more than sex and like! One of the reasons I am looking forward to working at Timm Services on a full time basis is that we will be together most of the time. For some couples that would be a problem. As far as I’m concerned, it gives me more time to look at her cute rear end!

Thursday, Aug 2—WBS Day 4
On Thursday we installed cheek plates on the underside of the deck, prepped the hatch parts, glued and taped the deck to the hull—very exciting, it looked like a kayak—and taped (fiberglass/epoxy) the hull/seam joint. Cheek plates go on either side of the kayaker as he sits in the cockpit, and they are very helpful when underway. The hips are very important when kayaking, and cheek plates keep your hips in contact with the boat. Also, rolling a kayak is done mostly with a hip snap, so the cheek plates are necessary there too. Getting the 3” wide fiberglass tape on the deck-hull seam is one of the most difficult jobs in building a kayak. You cut the tape a little over half the length of the boat, so each side will have two pieces that overlap behind the cheek plate. Then you saturate the glass with epoxy, roll it loosely, and use a long stick to poke the tape all the way into the end of the boat with your head and shoulders inside the cockpit. Bear in mind Drew’s kayak is 5.5 meters long! You use a flashlight to see as well as you can, and you either wear an respirator or just endure the smell for a while. It’s a rough job, but it adds a lot to the strength of a kayak, and it’s how they are all done, even composite boats. We didn’t get done on Thursday until after 6, which is why I didn’t blog that day. I couldn’t see sitting outside of the store for another hour when we were ready to head home and see our people. This was our busiest day of the week, and it went well. Drew has worked hard almost all the time. I took to calling him Dandelion Boy on occasion today because he sometimes has trouble keeping his mind on the task at hand. It reminds me of the kid in the outfield during a baseball game. Since there’s not always a lot of action in the outfield, you usually see them playing with dandelions eventually. But most of the time he has done a great job, and I’ve had Drew do a lot of the work on this boat.

Friday, Aug 3—WBS Day 5
On Friday we installed the cockpit coaming (riser and lip both), glassed those parts, installed the hatch parts, and glassed the deck. Valerie and 2, 3, and 4 came up around 5:30, and we finished up shortly thereafter because Friday night at the WoodenBoat School is lobster cookout night. The whole crew went down to the waterfront and enjoyed steamed lobsters, corn on the cob, and salad. There are five or six classes going on right now, and many students brought guests, so there were well over 100 people in total. The Eggemoggin Reach Regetta made it to Brooklin today, so we had the distinct pleasure of seeing well over 100 wooden boats in the school harbor today. There was everything from 10’ or 12’ dingies to 60’ yachts. Beautiful sight.

This has been a great week, and as it was the crux of our journey to the northeast, I can say that it was absolutely worth all the planning, driving, and being away from home and family. I’m not at all ready to go home yet. I love to travel, I have had a wonderful time on this trip, it has been great being around my wife and four kids all the time, and we can make our way home with a great looking kayak strapped to the roof of Blue Van now. Drew will paddle it proudly.

Thanks for following our journey!

Hustle, make the play, be the hero.

Val's post

Alright, Mike is making me do today's post. He wants to get back to the cottage as soon as they can tonight so we can go out for dinner for our 15 year anniversary. Nothing fancy, all 4 kids, but it'll still be fun. I hope you don't expect too much because I am not nearly as creative as he is. Mine will also be short because the younger ones are becoming impatient about going swimming.

We came up to visit the boys and watch them work on the kayak today. It is neat to see them working together and getting closer and closer to a finished product. Brenna informed Mike that she wants to do this with him some day. We'll see if that remains true in a few years or not. She definitely enjoyed watching Drew work on stuff.

An update from the girls and Braden's end. We are enjoying driving around Deer Isle and checking out different little shops. Alex looked at the map and picked out a few she thought would be neat. We haven't made any big purchases, just mainly window shopped. We don't do many of the pottery or antique stores because first, we aren't sure how we would get that home, and 2nd, the little octopus is with us. We would do a lot of "You break it, you buy it" shopping. I'm not interested in that! We have a few other store we plan to visit yet, though.

Swimming has been very interesting. No one has gone deeper than their knees. The water is very cold. I heard one dad at the beach yesterday after being in for just a short time say his knees were frozen. The beaches are definitely a lot different from the few we have been in at North and South Carolina. The girls wanted me to be sure you understand that the water is COLD! :)

Mike has a few pictures loaded from supper Monday night for us to share. The kids enjoyed the corn for supper. I wanted to include some of the kayak, but I can't get them to download from the camera. Mike will have to help with that. I keep getting error messages and illegal program activity that is forcing the program to end and send error reports. I hate figuring out new things!

The final thing I will include before we go to Antarctica Beach as Alex is referring to the beaches is a picture of the Lighthouse on Pumpkin Island that we saw. You can't go out to the island because it is privately owned, but we could look at it from a distance. Alex wanted to drive out to see it because Mike calls her his "little pumpkin spice," so seeing the Pumpkin lighthouse was neat for her.

Hopefully the boys can include work pictures tomorrow.

Got some ground to make up

A little ways down the page you will find a picture of where I am sitting as I put together today's inclusion to this delightful little diary. It's an absolutely gorgeous day here in Brooklin. It was foggy and cool this morning, but now it is a perfectly clear day, sunny and about 75. Drew and I got to the boat shop this morning around 7:40--I've been waiting for a long time to say "boat shop" and mean it--and we made good progress on his kayak. The hull is assembled, dookie schmutzed, and glassed. Tomorrow we will do the same with the deck, and Thursday is the day we put it all together. He is doing a great job, and I'm having him do as much work as he can do. I assist whenever he needs help, and I'm doing my fair share, but he will absolutely be able to say that he built this kayak. The guy working next to me today said to me, kind of on the DL, "He's a really good kid, isn't he? He just works, smiles, and never complains." And I said to him, "He definitely is a great kid. He's also a straight-A student, one of the best athletes in his class, and he's popular with the ladies, much to his dismay."

Friday is our last day to work; we can come in on Saturday if we so desire, and we still may depending on how far we get, but we have to be out of the cottage by 11:00. Friday evening is also a lobster bake down at the marina here at the WoodenBoat School, so we're looking forward to that. The fam is driving to Rockland on Saturday because that is the weekend of the Lobster Fest!

OK, I have some ground to make up. I am going to post pictures from 4 days, so I will have to somewhat limit my writing or I'll be here all night. It's about 6:00 as I write, and Drew is off climbing an apple tree because he finished up working about 30 minutes ago.

Friday, July 27; Boston, Massachusetts

On Friday we slept in, had breakfast at a Dunkin Donuts, then the kiddies and Dad swam for about an hour. We spent the rest of the day walking the Freedom Trail in Boston. We took the subway downtown to the Boston Commons, which is evidently a favorite gathering place now just as it was in antiquity. The area was beautiful, and there were lemonade stands and t-shirt shops galore. We bought matching shirts that are green and say Boston in Red Sox script. I have to confess that I also bought a Red Sox hat. It seemed like the thing to do in Boston, and it's comfortable.

This is the Park Street cemetery. There's something a little morbid about including a cemetery, but there are lots and lots of famous dead people buried here that you may have heard of. You know, people like Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, the five men who were killed in the Boston Massacre, people like that. By the way, I need to amend the date I told you about the earliest gravesite at the cemetery in Medford. It was 1725, not 1625. Alex wanted me to make that correction because she was the one who found the stone, and we knew that Uncle Mark would know that 1625 was crazy talk. The Freedom Trail wound for 3 miles around Boston, and the kids all did really good. We hopped back on the subway at 8:00, so they walked for almost 7 hours as we wound our way around.

Saturday, July 28; Boston to Stonington, Maine

Remember the other day when I reported in the blogo that it rained hard as we were driving from Boston to Stonington on Saturday? Well, I wasn't just whistling Dixie. Heck, I don't even know how to whistle Dixie. I do know a lady named Dixie, but that's neither here nor there. The road was like this for about 3 hours as we were driving. It is interesting to note--at least to me, and this is mine--that while there is a semi in this picture, for whatever reason there were virtually zero semis through New Hampshire and Massachusetts, and very few in Maine.

On the way to Stonington we stopped for a rest break, and to urinate, in the delightful little town of Belfast, Maine. We drove the downtown area and found this neat little bookshop, then stopped at a fast food place to go to the bathroom. Braden asked me to include this picture in the posting about Saturday.

This is Grandpa's Cottage. We got into town late enough that the light was fading and the fog was rolling in off the harbor. It's a neat old place, and I need to make sure I include this here and you catch it--everyone is adjusting nicely! The kids really enjoy staying there, I definitely like staying there, and Valerie is feeling much better now that Drew and I have wheels.

Sunday, July 29; Stonington

This is the view from our front porch. We can see directly into the harbor. There wasn't much activity on Sunday, plus the fog didn't lift until almost 10:00, but on normal days these lobster boats run most of the day. I don't know how clear it is from the picture, but we are probably 200 meters or so from the harbor. There isn't a beach area in Stonington proper, because the harbor all the way from the east end of town to the west end of town where we are located is an active fishing harbor. There are three or four docks where the fishermen come in and unload their catch.

As noted before, we did not make it to church on Sunday morning because we did not have hot water to get cleaned up until about 10:30, and the service started at 11:00. We had lunch at this outdoor cafe right on the harbor, which was very nice. There is usually a nice breeze blowing, and the harbor does not usually have the fishy smell I anticipated it would. I may have posted this already, but Valerie and I had the special of crab rolls and blueberry pie, Drew had sausage and sauerkraut, Alex shared chicken nuggets with Braden, and Brenna had a grilled ham and bacon sandwich.

The excellent new camera has a timer feature, so I took this picture of the fam sitting on a rock in the harbor with no hands and no help. Note the Red Sox hat on the mister. Stonington has its name because it was at one of the time a world leader in the granite industry. That was from about 1870 to about 1960 or so. Even now the granite quarries are active and do a brisk business around the world. The countryside reminds me a lot of pictures I have seen of Ireland. Very hilly, very green, and boulders sitting around everywhere. Of course, they are all granite, which is pretty cool. So we've got that going for us.

This is the store at the WoodenBoat School. Right now I'm sitting beside the big window under the porch. The computer is being tempermental with the pictures, and Drew is getting hungry, so rather than chance losing this post after an hour of work I think I will post it and move along. Hope you are enjoying our journey, and thanks much for checking in! Y'all come back now, hear?!