positioning

Plume routinely sits like this, with her legs extended and front paws on her tail. I suppose that she does it to help with her relentless grooming (she's very particular about her appearance), but she'll go on sitting this way, alert and part of the family, until something startles her.

a boy and his bodyguard

Casper likes to have pictures taken with Daddy, and Linus likes to take them.

costumed trio

What I really admire about the children's costume play is the seriousness with which they approach the entire enterprise. Gwennie plainly takes great pains to make sure that her magical princess has a cape that matches her leotard-and-yoga-pants ensemble, and that her mage stones match the jewels on her knife hilt.

Linus also works for verisimilitude in his knightwear, with silver (mail-colored) short pants and a back scabbard for his sword. He also takes great care to get into character -- who would dare to cross a scowl like that?

And Casper's dragon -- what do those faux-Japanese pants and the tie-died Bible camp shirt say but "ferocious monster"?

what day is today?

Since Gwennie is nine today -- and we have adopted the family's rhythm of having parties for friends only every other year -- we had planned a modest evening. But we also thought it would be a lot of fun to see our friends the Torres family, so we decided to have an informal get together. We got the grill going and cooked burgers, brats, and chicken while the kids played.

One of the highlights was certainly the cake Gwennie chose, described as a "county fair-winning three-layer cake with chocolate whipped cream icing." It was as good as its billing; we'll have to try this one again.

ice cream anti-social

We'd committed to take homemade ice cream to a church event, so last night I'd put together one of our favorite recipes, strawberry with balsamic vinegar. For those doubters who cannot imagine vinegar in a non-savory recipe, understand that the role of the balsamic vinegar is to deepen the flavor of the strawberries and add a little edge. It's beautiful stuff.

When we arrived, I had to serve the ice cream into tiny tasting cups so that everyone could get a bite of each of the seven or eight homemades (before going to load up on the storebought stuff). There were some really great flavors, too; perhaps my favorite was the cherry/almond/white chocolate. As you can see from Gwennie's picture above, the tasting ended with a voting, and thanks to the boosterism of my daughter (I assume), we narrowly took the lead. That was when Linus came running up to me and bellowed, "Daddy, you won the ice cream social!"

Warriors

Gwennie's great passion lately has been a series of books called Warriors, about various clans of feral cats and their intrigues and battles. She has, in fact, made it through the first series of six books (each of which is around 300 pages), and will soon be starting on the second series (when she receives the first four titles for her birthday).

I decided to make her a birthday present of "battle cards" featuring the characters from the first series. (Some of you will have played a similar game with her -- it's another of her enthusiasms.) Unfortunately, I couldn't make this a surprise, since I needed her to choose the thirty most significant characters and provide them with attribute scores for the game. She's been working with me on the details, and I will be producing the cards, with images of cats matching the descriptions in the books, by the end of the week.

gabberjab

Mama: You did a good job on your talk, Casper. You spoke clearly, and reverently . . .
Casper: And intentionally?

Casper asks for some "hot Pudge sauce" (intentionally).

Casper, asking Mama about his educational future: Is it almost Fall? In the Fall do I get to go to Shining Star?

Casper, speaking through his transformer (Kup) to Linus's new toy: "Wheeljack, it's so much fun to have my robot legs!"

Mama [calling from the kitchen]: "Guess what I just found?"
C: "A mouse inside a shoe?"

misapprehensions

Linus, asking about the name of our town: "Was it called Afghanistan first?"
Mama: No! Where did you get that? From the radio?
Linus: No, from you!

L: My juice box keeps backfiring on me!

Pharisee face

We were recently reading our illustrated New Testament and came upon a picture of a very unpleasant Pharisee. He was making the most horrible, hateful face at Jesus. Sad to say, it reminded us of a relatively common expression which the children make at each other. Now, whenever we see this look, we warn the children about their "Pharisee face," and it usually does a good job of stopping the grimace (unless, of course, we ask them to demonstrate their best version, and then we get this).

let's all have some cake

We celebrated half of Casper's birthday on Saturday, when we had a little more time to spend on some of the activities he'd planned (like his breakfast waffles). We also gave him the last couple of presents we'd kept in reserve -- his first big boy bike (with the training wheels from Gwennie's SeaStar; unfortunately, they don't fit well, and we'll probably have to get a larger set for stability) and his first big boy Transformer (more on this later, no doubt).

We'd also convinced him that it would be all right to wait until today for his birthday cake. I'd remembered a cake that some friends in Wisconsin used to make for me, ho-ho cake, and thought that its mixture of goopiness and trashiness would appeal to Casper (don't get me wrong -- I think the stuff's delicious, too, and it fits perfectly with my Hostess obsession). As you can surmise from the following pictures, it was a pretty easy hit with him.

I especially like the chocolate Clark Gable he's showing off in this one -- makes him look kinda mature-like.

there's no butter there?

Here's one from a few weeks ago: while Jen was alone in Dallas with the kids, they all went with Granny to the Wal-Mart. After a bleak couple of hours shopping and price comparing, Jen was exhausted. That's the context for this conversation:

Linus: I can't believe this place is still open! What's the name of this place, again?
Jen: Hell.
Linus: I can't believe hell is still open!

what a day for a birthday!

Well, the lad is now four. When we asked what he wanted for his special birthday dinner, he said, "Banana muffins!" Well, fair enough, they have chocolate chips. But we'll have them for birthday breakfast. What about dinner? "Um . . . waffles with strawberries and cream!" That's traditional; I approve. How about we eat it Saturday morning -- but what about tonight? After some cajoling, he opted for "noodles with bacon." That's my boy.

We got together for a special lunch, played around when I got home, and enjoyed opening some presents (and reading the resulting books) before bed. A good time had by all, I think.

pity for the pregnant lady

Yesterday, Jennifer discovered a news article listing the urban areas which have been the hottest, the most unrelentingly miserable, this summer. Guess where we landed? Number four, the highest of any city in Texas and above such hellholes as Tucson (no offense, but as my name is an anagram for "Tucson, devil's doormat," I feel permitted to libel the city whenever I get the chance). Only Las Vegas and two other barren outposts had higher heat indexes over the past three months. I think she's held up remarkably well; bravely, at least. But she's got to stop doing this to herself.

so sophisticated

On overhearing her mother's conversation with one of her brothers: "'Approximately' -- that's one of those smart grown-up words I like to use!"

rain day

Mama: Something really neat happened last night.
Casper: What?
Mama: It rained!
Casper: . . . candy?

precipi--what?

We're in the middle of a drought down here in Texas. Even our governor, who threatened to secede from the Union because congress tried to give us a few million dollars for elementary school (I'm pretty sure that was the issue) has proclaimed the lack of rain a state of emergency. But today we did actually get a brief rainstorm (literally the second or third of the summer), which the children celebrated by going out and jumping in their raincoats. Huzzahs!

thumbs up to you

Idaho, Texas

What is it that they always say? "You can take the kid out of the Idaho, but you can't take the Idaho out of the kid?" Whether or not that makes any sense, check out this picture -- twice the hipster-approved daily allowance of wolves!

final day (of grime)

Dad had made everyone who attended the high adventure journals in which they could keep notes about their discoveries, specimens they'd found, and so forth. These were largely bound from pieces of leather found around the Samuelson homestead which had some historical significance (for example, one book was bound in deerskin which had been tanned, as I understand it, from the hide of a deer which Sam had shot on a hunting trip he took with Dad; another few, including my journal, were bound from an old leather jacket which several of us wore at various points in late adolescence).

I kept a log of the events of the weekend, but also sketched some of the important details (most having to do with the better ways of roasting pig in a pit). When Will and the boys captured a garter snake, and when Steve and I narrowly missed catching a blue-tailed skink, I had to add it to the record (although my recollection of the appearance of the elusive skink may not be as accurate as I would have liked).

(The skink's neon-blue tail is partially visible in the lower center of the frame.)

groundhog day

One of my personal highlights of the camping weekend came on Sunday, when I cooked our dinner in a pit. My initial ambition was to cook a full pig (an ambition which remains, and which will be achieved one of these days), but we settled for digging a two-foot hole for a seven pound pork shoulder. At the grand unveiling, Will aptly dubbed it our "groundhog." The rest of the family came up to the mountains for the unveiling and for dinner (oh, and to celebrate Jill's birthday). After eight hours over the white coals we'd made in our pit, the pork was fork-tender and delicious. Of course, with a whole pig, we could have invited everyone we know to dinner. . . .

mountain men

Because work sent me to a conference in Colorado, I was able to fly to Boise for a few days to visit family. Dad had planned a men's weekend, a sort of counterpart to the sisters' party Jen's been attending the past couple of years, so several of my brothers and their older sons ended up in the mountains above Idaho City. (Sadly, I wasn't able to fit either Linus or Casper in my luggage, so they'll have to wait until the next biannual Man Retreat.) We had a great time building fires and shooting the bottles and the head of a shovel with Dad's pellet gun and a large number of slingshots.

the perils of aging

Casper: Daddy, we're getting older. And when we get older you have to buy us computers!

pretty reasonable acronym

Gwendolyn: "I think 'PBS' stands for 'Parents' Best Solution.'"

Casper gab

Mama: Go feed the cats.
Casper: I'm going to ask Daddy what my jobs are.
Daddy: Casper, what did Mama ask you to do? Why don't you go do that?
Casper: You're also a teller-jobber! You tell me what to do!

Casper: I have a stuffy nose. And I don't feel well. Will you take my temperature?
Jen: (After the thermometer beeps): It says you're just fine.
Casper: (Examining it): It says "feverish."

In outrage after hearing his siblings' conversation: "Dumbledore dies! [Long pause] Who's Dumbledore?"