Spring Has Arrived, and Life Is Still Here.

Spring is finally rearing its head back around. FINALLY! While this last winter has been much easier than the winter before, and I should be thankful for that, I still, as a matter of principle have to complain. I hate the cold weather, The fact that snow soaks my boots and makes my socks wet and thus my feet are long term grape-ified from a night of work walking around businesses and houses that weren't kind enough to ensure me a dry manageable route to traverse at all times. But finally the snow has melted and the temperatures have gone up somewhat. It still gets cold at night, and during the day while it is considerably warmer, the moderate spring breeze keeps it too chilly for me to go out and about in a t-shirt and shorts. I have a heck of an issue with holding body heat apparently, since I have other friends who complain that they get hot in their apartments, even though the windows are open and the breeze is blowing thru and I feel like I have to put my coat back on just to be comfortable.

But, that will all come to an end soon enough. I now have rain and thunderstorms to complain about coming soon, and once those quit, I'll have the high humidity levels to complain about that make me sweat profusely and cause me, a guy who will sweat like Richard Simmons at the very thought of physical activity, to take 2 showers a day, just to avoid being as smelly as the landfill. But I much prefer the heat of summer to the cold of winter. Much more that can be done outside, whether its a game of football or basketball, walking or biking the trails, hiking through the woods with the kids, or taking them to the lake to watch them have fun in the water. I'm not much of a water person...and for some reason the local authorities have not seen fit to heat the natural waterways to a comfortable 75 or 80 degrees as of yet for my swimming comfort.

As spring represents a new beginning, I got some bad news this weekend that I have to stat a lot of things over. The computer we had last fall crashed and burned. SO bad that a computer genius was unable to pull the 7000+ photos we had amassed over the years, nor my book writings. Now many people might ask why I didn't have them backed up. Well, I intended to back them up, but never got around to it. So now, with the exception of what photos I have posted on previous blog entries and elsewhere online, pictures from holiday events, family get togethers, and vacations are all lost, never to be seen again. This was quite disappointing, given all the years of memories encapsulated in those photos are gone forever. My electronic form of my book writings was also gone. This, I considered less important than the photos, since I can always rewrite anything, and I had the majority of the book printed out. I only have to manually re-copy all that, and rewrite the few chapters I hadn't finished and/or printed out prior to the computer dying on us.

Since I have cancelled my netflix, deactivated my facebook and will soon rely on the public library for my Internet, I will have time to get on with my writing without the excuse of distractions such as facebook. As of Monday April 11, I will be devoting 2 hours a day to rewriting everything until it is done. Then I will work on submission to some agents I looked up and think might be favorable to my writing style for representation. Then maybe I can sell some books and make some money. I don't expect to be able to retire on that kind of money, but it would be nice for an unknown author to set some sort of sales record, and be able to concentrate on either more writing, or whatever whim catches my fancy on any given day. It's a dream to keep in mind I suppose. And since I doubt I can convince the government or taxpayers to beginning allotting 1-2% of their income to supporting me and whatever lifestyle I choose to lead, I guess I'll have to keep plugging away until I figure out what's going to work best for me. This overnight work as a rentacop has served a basic purpose providing something resembling 'making a living', but just as I am, its getting old, and BORING.

There has got to be way more to life than going to work, coming home, eating and sleeping. And I don't mean all the things you see in luxury magazines, but even the simplest lifestyle where one can find the fun activities to participate in (such as skydiving, family vacations without worry of having enough money to do anything AND pay the rent) or observe (like live sporting events, without worrying if I'm going to have to sacrifice sleep before work time arrives). I remember growing up, I had all kinds of plans for life. I was going to make life my bitch essentially. Life was going to be your average sitcom. Nice house, family pets, money to go on vacation or get gifts for people, all your problems solved in a half hour with simple fatherly wisdom, or an hour if you couldn't fit the script in a particular week's episode. I would have all the great perks in life, including the well paying job I loved to go do in between well balanced meals served to me by my loving spouse and getting to eat it with the family, while they tell me the tales of their adventures throughout the day while I was away.

I also was going to be some sort of real life action hero. My plans included the military life. I was going to be like a one man wrecking machine. The guy the President and Pentagon requested whenever something went wrong in the world and some bad guys needed killing. What's this? Libya is acting up. Quick, call up Mook, apprise him of the situation and give him whatever he needs. WE need this taken care of now, for the good of the country and the rest of the world. And then I would go parachuting into some far off land loaded down with twice my body weight in weapons and ammo. Who knows, maybe I'd just get into a tank and have it air-dropped in while I was at it. I'd have all the know how of MacGyver and the ability to drop my enemies with deadly Chuck Norris like moves (I am a ninja after all), in the eventual happenstance of my weapons all jamming up. I figure no war would outlast a single week. Then I'd go back home, get the ticker tape parade, commercial endorsements for GI MOOK action figures, free sandwiches at Subway or Jimmy Johns. More official visits to the White House...as Forrest Gump said: AGAIN! Eventually I'd probably end up being elected President of the United States, and all the fun that comes with that business. Of course being a one man walking army, I'd abolish the Secret Service... after all, when you're as awesome as I am, the few crazies who might want to harm me needn't put up with amateurs like those guys.

You know, all that crap that only screenwriters can come up with. But, with any luck, I can chase down my own piece of the American Dream, where I can at least have a nice house and some dogs to terrorize The Colonel. Maybe go catch a few MLB games, and if they still play in the future some NFL games (Maybe I can catch a 49ers game where they actually win!), drive back and forth across the country checking out a few of the major touristy spots, but mostly the lesser known local haunts that make each place interesting in its own way. Or just get up at 0-dark-thirty with a thermos of coffee and go fishing. Wouldn't matter if I caught anything. The supermarket has fish that I don't have to gut and clean!

As for right now, I'm just happy that I have Scentsy stuff and a new brand of cat litter that seem to be doing the job keeping the smell of The Colonel's latrine and his acid pee from overtaking the apartment. And I get to hammer my kids over doing their homework and then going outside to play for a couple hours. Even if they find me boring and decide they'd rather play with their friends and not their dear old dad.

Spinning My Wheels

Today I finally went to have my tire fixed. I ran over a nail two weeks ago, and have just put up with having to add a little air to replace what was lost by a super slow leak. But today, I decided I might as well get it taken care of before I go and ruin the tire completely at some point while out driving. Knowing my luck this would happen only when its really cold, really snowing, or pouring down rain like during the Noahic Flood. I figured while I was there I'd have them replace my wiper blades, since those things are in tatters. The guy comes back after 15 minutes, and tells me the wiper blades for my car are not in their stock. Apparently my car, a Saturn Aura, takes some sort of special blades, and they cost $24 a piece. Now I'm not the most mechanical guy in the world, as anyone who knows me will tell you. But c'mon $24 PER blade?? Special kind of wiper blade?

It's a friggin Saturn, it's a goddamn GM product. It's barely any different from a Chevy Malibu. The blades are just a simple piece of rubber. $24?!?!?!? You have got to be kidding me. My wallet, made of leather, costs less than that, and is clearly much more fragile than those wiper blades given the size of my paychecks, and the motherfuckers are trying to ruin my shit $24 at a time. I told them I'd look elsewhere rather than let them triple my bill for fixing my tire. Almost two hours, they remove a nail from my tire and do the patch job...after tax: $21.09. To add two wipers THAT THEY'D HAVE TO ORDER AND MAKE ME COME BACK: an additional $48 plus tax. You've got to be fucking kidding me. Speaking of ruining my shit...

The Colonel. He ruins the fine mass crafted cheap ass wood veneer that substitutes for a good door frame. He likes to use his claws on everything. The frames, the couch, the chair, the friggin carpet, my arms, hands, legs. I finally clipped his front nails... he's still a pain in the ass, but at least he doesn't hook into my skin as much and tear out half my forearm on a mere swipe of the claws. And it's not just his claws that ruin things. His bathroom habits are quite noticeable. The cat craps out his own body weight a day, even if he doesn't eat much. His piss could be used to melt through locked steel doors. It all has the great superpower of being able to overpower kitty litter of all brands. I have yet to find a quality brand that does the job they say they do. Odor reducing (I'm scared to think how bad it would be before hitting the odor reducing stuff), indoor, multiple cats (he poops enough for a bakers dozen worth of the little mangy bastards), clumping (his piss creates huge wet, smelly useless bricks of litter), spring fresh stepping kitty excrement killing sand powder. Doesn't matter. They all fail miserably. That's right, my cat is so powerful his poop and pee have reduced all of our scientific know-how in odor reducing to ashes. Yes, I have a small apartment, with relatively little ventilation, but you'd think we have something that would kill the odor. And CAT HAIR...fuck. This cat sheds enough hair to outfit 3 Chemo patients with a new wig, EACH DAY. And he doesn't look like he has lost a single hair. Until you look at my recliner, the couch, my fuzzy sweatshirt, the horse blanket on my bed, every damn spot he curls up on the carpet. Pet the little bastard and your hand looks more like that of the Abominable Snowman rather than a normal human hand!

I have joked about exiling my executive officer, but it's all been jokes up to this point. Some days I look at all the shit he ruins and I'm about ready to give him the boot. But, sadly, I like the Colonel too much to just give him up. He has his own unique personality, and I don't think too many people would really and truly "get" the Colonel and what he's about. He'd need a patient and understanding family to deal with, and probably on a two week probationary period of ownership just so he can get used to them and the new environment, while they get to find out if they really do have the patience to deal with a feline so pretentious he gave himself the title and name, Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell.

As a kitten, it was he who said this would be his name. I didn't think of that on my own. Sure, I may be creative, but that is just a bit beyond my bullshit-stretching abilities. The cat really does think that highly of himself. So he sheds, shits and claws the crap out of everything...because ultimately its his home, and I'm just allowed to remain here to feed him, offer myself up as a scratching post, and to pet him when he feels the need. But hey... looking on the bright side, at least he doesn't have fleas...anymore.

And Mother Nature has apparently decided to fuck with me too. Yesterday was beautiful out. Sunny, warm. Today is sunny, cooler but not too bad, but with a bit of a wind. Tomorrow will cool down a bit more...and on thru the weekend, into rain, then snow on Monday and friggin COLD! Apparently Mother Nature doesn't give a damn about that overgrown beaver seeing his shadow or not. It's Iowa and we WILL have winter...ALL OF IT! She decided to warm thing sup a bit, just to melt some stuff down and prepare the rivers and creeks to flood like crazy. Then, just to be on the safe side...lets add more rain and snow on top of it. Oh, and let's make sure that I have to work when it all goes to shit. Cuz I love working in crappy weather...yeah that's it.

Oh, and as has been mentioned in other forums, and is quite apparent from previous pictures of me, I rarely make a photo's quality go up by virtue of having my mug in it. A friend went through hundreds of physical photos and we found 3 acceptable ones of me. Couple of them 9-11 years old, and one that is maybe in the last 3 or 4 yrs. Nothing much in that department as far as new stuff that would qualify me as a photogenic face. I have a digital camera I got from my mom, but it needed batteries. The cheap alkaline ones pretty much die by the mere act of putting them in the camera. Last week while taking the boys to use some gift cards from Christmas, I bought some lithium batteries. I watched them go into the bag. I saw them here when I got home. And now I can't find the damn things ANY where. I didn't even open up the package. They just grew legs and walked out of here...of that I am convinced. So now I have to go out and buy some more, and then find someone who's good at tricking a camera into taking good pictures, so I can get something new to throw up that doesn't seem to emphasize my double chin, closed eyes, or some creepy look on my face. You know, so I can maybe convince someone or another that I might actually be normal...well at least until they actually talk to me. But I can at least fake out the facebook friends who've never met me as of yet.

Memories In Photo- Part 2

Dani in a self picture on the car ride down to Branson
Here's the whole family at a stop in Yellowstone. Dani takes wonderfully great photos, but it's even better to see her grace a few!
Mom with her boys at Rushmore, and one of her and Josh at our campsite outside Custer SD.

Nice shot of my wife, myself and our oldest out for a horseride up a mountain. It was my first time riding a horse. Dani was quite amused by me this day.
And of course, the obligatory old time photo of the family. Dani was looking a bit too sizzling for a family photo here, but hey, I don't mind checking her out in this outfit.

Here's my wife on the boat for a cocktail cruise before the fountain light show at the Landing in Branson. And a nice picture of us in the Hotel prior to dinner, where she dazzled in this self-made dress. The waiters fell over themselves, the men in the restaurant whiplashed themselves taking longer looks, and their women got a bit jealous. I was one proud man to have this Lady on my arm for the evening.

Memories In Photo Part 1

It was 14 years ago this week that I first laid eyes on my wife.

Here she is when we first started dating, in the middle of two of her friends wearing my jacket. Who knew what the future would hold?
Oh Yeah, here is what it held...her hanging out with some guy who refuses to take a normal photograph!
And here she is, posing with Buggy, our youngest.
and here's Buggy, probably trying to choke out his older brother Josh!
Then she decided to catch me at some point around my naptime, just to capture a photo of us together. Very rare since she's usually on the other end of the camera!
Here's Daddy unsuccessfully trying to intimidate one of his little goobers!

The (not so) Many Faces of Josh

These pictures are the collage of my 9 year old Josh. This is the closest I can find to Josh actually smiling a little more naturally. Most often, when the camera shows up, he puts on a smile, but it looks much more like a grimmace. His looks seem to be more like his grandpa, my dad. The big huge Adam's apple that shows ever so prominently, only furthers his likeness to grandpa. So does the appearance here, of him spacing off slightly.



And here, you'll notice that the expression on his face didn't change much. It seems as though he came out of "space world" and is actually looking at the camera. But hey, no grimmace! YAY! Now if I can just get him to stay out of space world in school we won't get notes from his teacher saying he is missing a work packet! He tends to excel at those subjects he likes, the rest be damned. Who knows, he may be the world's greatest idea man later in life, so it may not be an issue!



And this look here is Classic Josh. He too has a great vibrancy for life. This smile might mean he is happy, he might be amused, or he is contemplating attacking me. And trust me...it appears to be a glare off his glasses, but that is most definitely an excited twinkle from his eye.
It used to be easy to manhandle him with one arm when he gets the itch to tangle with me. However he is getting stronger by the day. It now takes both hands to contain this package of pure energy. I'm still working on the focusing thing. He flails wildly, occasionally landing a good solid hit on me when we wrestle, but due to his lack of focus, and want to jump and twist around like some sort of cartoon ninja on crack, I still have the upperhand overall. I only pray I can keep it....otherwise "Evil Buggy" will plot my demise and Josh will execute the plan. Well, maybe. Josh is stubborn like his mother and I both, yes he got it from both sides, so it actually quadrupled its effects. Josh likes to be the leader, whether he has any knowledge or credibility amongst whoever he is with at any given time. So he may just be the one to plot it, and use Buggy to help him hide my body, if only to be the leadership of everything in his realm!

The Many Faces Of Buggy

The true face of Corwyn, aka Buggy, once his mother leaves the house. I think at times, this boy was brought into the world with one sole purpose: To love his mommy, lavish her with praise randomly, take her side no matter what, and to make my life way more, how should I put it...it interesting. This face is known officially as "Evil Buggy". He is surely plotting something right now.


Here is the Buggy that most people see. Cute, innocent, and a normal going-on-5-year-old. He has a huge vibrancy for life and learning how to do things. Then everyone leaves and he is left alone with me....as if on cue, return to the first picture. It would be comical to me, except for the fact that I fear for my life. The boy has a penchant for licking me as a fighting mechanism. He once left peanut butter on my arm as a reminder that he owns me, and that his tongue is a peanut butter magnet. This picture is also known as "Normal Buggy".



And then you have this look. I'm not even sure how to explain this one. It has differnet meanings. The first and foremost is probably "look, my eyeballs are big!!"
The second is probably the look he gives his mother after she hears me shrieking like a girl in response to his disgusting lickathons on me. As if he is saying "What? I don't know what Daddy is talking about. You mean licking is not good? Look, I'm not even 5 yet...and I'm cute. Feed me!" Clearly he is just using this in his arsenal of childhood to throw people off his real path (see picture 1). I really feel I better put the message out into the world, before he devises new ways to torture, and eventually, eradicate me from the living.

Seriously though, Corwyn is a very photogenic child, and he knows it. As soon as a camera shows up, he is always finding a way to entertain the viewer of the ensuing photo. AND....his birthday is December 24th. Your poll question here is: Do I gip him for his birthday or Christmas? LMAO

Definitely Not Camera Shy!

Corwyn, this last 4th of July in front of the parade route, in my old hometown of Sac City, Iowa. This pose seems to be a common theme for him. He is, in his mind at least, either the the strongest guy he knows by far, or a superhero. Either way, his sights are set high, and he will not be deterred. I suffer a great many injuries from his super kid-claw attack mode.

In my Florida trip posting, you have already seen my photogenic poses in stupid cowboy hats, so now here's my idea of entertaining photography...obligatory dog pooping in action photos. Yes, Pure Art, I expect all the publications and academies to send me invitations to show my great work, and give me awards!

And here is Josh, as always being his adventurous little self. Anything to satisfy his need to express his boyishness, and also make his Nana cringe with fear that her poor little grandson might seriously injure himself. Obviously a direct take off his old man, who spent years forcing grey hairs to grow onto Nana's head!

It almost looks like Josh is preparing to toss Corwyn into the resevoir. Many days, I would love to be in a position to make this happen, if for nothing other than my own amusement. The only thing that is stopping me, is that I don't like the idea of getting myself into the cold water when I have to rescue them from the shallow, muddy and murky water of Maffitt Resevoir.

And lastly, THIS would have been the perfect opportunity to do so. They never would have seen it coming!

I tried to find some poser shots of my wife, but either she is far too innocent or just too sly to get caught acting like a goofball on camera. Or, she has hidden such photographs so well that my computer illiterate mind can't work well enough to find the incriminating photos!