L's Idea of D-day

I'm looking forward to the summer black-out period that will render our Disneyland season's pass useless until the fall, but alas, it still has a week or two of valid park days left on it, and Stacy and L are bound and determined to make the most of it. Fortunately their most recent sortie was last Wednesday and I was able to beg off due to work - a close rival for the "Happiest Place on Earth" title, I assure you.

So being free of all male encumbrances (sorry N, you really don't quite qualify as much of a bastion of male encumbrance yet), Stacy, L and N hooked up with Grandma Lynne and spent the day at D-land in a preponderance of princessly pleasures: they booked a gourmet lunch with Ariel and all her royal consorts. It's exactly the kind of thing I've been longing not to do, so the timing was perfect. L, of course, was neigh catatonic due to cardiac hyper-palpitation, and N, who, truth be told, has a bit of a thing for Snow White, or at least her wardrobe, was similarly wound up.

They showed up for their appointed lunch time rendezvous and were ushered in in relatively short order, but even a couple minute wait is an eternity when there are princesses hanging in the balance. L's patience was sorely tried.



But princessly patience is always happily rewarded and soon she was face to fins with her hemi-human heroine.



Lunch was then served. L had sea-shell pasta and N had lollipop meatballs. Stacy had cioppino, which, considering Ariel's best friend is supposedly a crab, seemed somewhat in poor taste. (Stacy did mention that it was very flavorful, so I guess you can say that all of Ariel's childhood friends served her faithfully to the very end.)

Then all Ariel's current, nouveau riche, socialite friends came out to play and, in somewhat Paris Hilton fashion, be seen and sign autographs. Being monarchs seems to afford them a lot of free time. Pulchritude ensued.






The day's hob-nobbing having drawn to a close, the kids were dragged back to the car (which bore no resemblance to a pumpkin coach whatsoever) and hurried home, arriving safely with several hours to spare against the final stroke of midnight deadline. They have been firmly counselled that, in gratitude for this special treat, they must play together happily ever after, or a wicked step-dad will come into the story.

Building-Memories Day

On Memorial Day Stacy and the kids and I took a drive up the 110 to Burbank and spent the morning visiting all Stacy's grandparents, real and honorary. First we took Lefty (a.k.a. GGPa) to breakfast at Denny's (nothing but the best!), and then went back to his place for a while so that the kids could climb all over him and Stacy could do some fact checking in the the scrapbook she's making for him and Bunny.

While we were there we heard a roaring outside. I went out in time to see nine WWII-era fighter planes race in formation over the backyard. They went right overhead and I could have pegged them with a rock if I had been so inclined. (Not that I generally get the urge to throw rocks at veterans.)



We then made it over to Grandma Helen and Grandpa Dick's house next door to say hello. We startled poor Helen in her bathrobe as she was coming around the garage to get her newspaper, but she didn't hold it against us.





And lastly we drove over to Glendale to visit Bunny (a.k.a. GGMa) in her convalescent home. Poor Bunny has had a pretty rough couple of months health-wise so it was so good to see her sitting up and talking and laughing. She really was a transformed woman. She really loves seeing the grandkids, so we try to make it over there fairly often, and it means a lot to Stacy too.

(By the way, Bunny had just finished telling a racy joke when I snapped that picture. Yup. She's feeling better...)

Cruel Daddy Dinners

Sometimes it's just too easy.

It had been a long day; we'd been out and about all morning, eaten a late lunch and gotten our nap biorhythms all out of sync. It was kinda warm and too late for a big dinner, but the kids weren't going to handle no dinner at all. On the weekends (and holidays) I try to do a measure of the cooking to offload Stacy. My initial reaction to the situation before me was to fall back to my usual standby in such cases: spaghetti - quick, easy and popular. A look through the freezer and pantry was disheartening - not enough of the right stuff. Stacy was busy performing ritual cleaning of the refrigerator at the time and indicated that she would be more than pleased if any of the stuff being yanked out of the various doors and drawers didn't have to be put back in afterwards. I looked through the inventory - it didn't look promising, but I never pass up on a "do something with this" challenge.

So Stacy went on with the purging of the fridge and I entered mad scientist mode. Thirty minutes later I called the crew to the table. The Pièce de résistance? Spaghetti with Creamed Carrot Sauce! OK, hold the gagging for a minute and trust me (against all better judgment) that it actually was pretty dang good! I boiled some carrots while sautéing some onions and garlic and fennel seed. I mashed them all together with a little frozen turkey stock and blended it with Stacy's immersion blender into a thick goo. A little salt, a little half-N-half, a pinch of cayenne pepper, and voilà! Dinner. I put it over pasta and sprinkled it o'er with the requisite Parmesan cheese and set it before the assembled masses. I artfully dodged any questions of "What is that, Daddy?"

You may have been slightly off-put by my description. You may have mocked me in your heart, or perhaps out loud to your computer screen. You may have simply smiled knowingly at my sad and foolish ambition. But to all of you doubters out there, I have only one thing to say. The proof of the (carrot) pudding is in the eating! While I may have only that one thing to say, I have several things to show you. Feast your eyes on this! (And considering it's carrots, feasting on this will conversely be good for your eyes. Pretty neat, huh?)









Take that, oh ye of little faith.

Remembering Our Heros

A special thank-you to Lefty Harris and all the men and women who have served and sacrificed for our country over the years. Lefty got to come home and have a wife and family, but many of his friends and fellow soldiers never did. Our debt to these men is profound.

Bunny and Lefty during the war.

Kirk Crow, Navy Photographer and Lefty's best friend.

Shot down over the Pacific Isles while
conducting post-attack photo reconnaissance.
His body was never recovered.

Like Mother Like Daughter

The Blind Leading the Blind

On our way to church this morning Stacy and I overheard L talking to N in their car seat and N answering her back rather vigorously. Her tone was a little more dictatorial than usual so we tried to peek around when we could and listen in surreptitiously. We found she had a sheet of paper that she had scribbled all these random letters on and she was using it to quiz her brother on their weekly catechism lesson. The only problem was was that she didn't have a clue as to what this week's catechism lesson was. (So much for all our recitals this week...)

It went something like this:

Professor L: Question 21... (Student N: Question 21...)
Professor L: What dost thou believe... (N: What believe...)
Professor L: about the holy cath... (N: holy cath...)
Professor L: Lick church? (N: Lick church!)
Professor L: Answer! (N: Answer!)
Professor L: Jesus and the Holy Ghost... (N: Holy Ghost!)
Professor L: suffered under Pontius Pilate... (N: Pontius Pilate!)
Professor L: and Christ's righteousness! (N: Righteousness!)
Professor L: Because God loves us! (N: God loves us!)
Professor L: Amen! (N: Amen!)

Psalm 8:2 says, "From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise." Very true, but sometimes it's just gibberish.

All Stacy's Family and Disneyland too!!!

This year my entertainment nemesis Disneyland has been offering a get-in-free birthday promotion. On your birthday you get free admission to the park, and since even the Happiest Place on Earth^® would be a little depressing to go to all alone on your big day, anyone who comes for the freebie will inevitably bring along a thousand of their closest (any paying) friends. Not a bad strategy - I have to hand it to them.

This year Stacy's Dad Kirk (a.k.a. Poppa) took advantage of the deal and the whole family converged in Anaheaven to celebrate his birthday. Aunt Noelia and cousin J came out from Arizona to join the festivities and even Stacy's grandfather Lefty (a.k.a. GGPA) made it down from Burbank.

Resorting to the most banal (and grammatically suspect) expression possible: A good time was had by all.

Thunder Mountain insanity.
(L has an underdeveloped sense of terror.)

Aunt Claudia kisses.