Chicken Little likes his treats so we have a constant conversation about what effect various foods have on your body. He is actually turning into a pretty good eater but he loves his meat in just about any form. Today he was in the bathroom for an extraordinarily long time. He finally emerged sans shirt and excitedly shouted “Mom, look at my muscles!”

“Wait, I think I can make them even bigger.”

“I might be even stronger than you are Mom.” Someday, little man. First you need to learn to put your own dang socks on straight so we can get out the door on time.

Dear Clearwire,

I hate you. At first I swooned over your lack of wiring and cords. You were the new shiny barechested boyfriend. But once I committed I realized your internet connection is painfully slow at times and the phone connection is so bad I don’t even use it anymore. On Wednesday I’m leaving you for the cable guy. You know the one with the cords going all over my house like a hairy back. He may be hairy but his connections are quick. I just thought you should know.

Sincerely,
Burp Rag

Update:
I wrote this entry tongue in cheek but the very next morning I had an email in my inbox from a Clearwire customer service representative. He was very concerned with my poor service and arranged for a phone technician to call me. I spent an hour on the phone with the phone tech figuring out how everything was connected and changing the position of the clearwire box to improve the coverage while my children destroyed my house. We were able to solve the phone issue but not the connection speed. That technician scheduled another technician to come to my house. Of course my connection speed was great while he was here. I teasingly suggested he come back at 9 pm when the problem seemed to peak and he happily agreed. He came back later that night, checked out the situation and contacted some other technicians. They were going to try some things behind the scenes to improve my coverage. Lo and behold it’s actually been just fine. I do have to say, this is the best customer service that I’ve ever received. So, the cable guy is in a holding pattern until next week and if I have no further problems with clearwire he can keep his cables. The moral of the story is, if you have a problem with clearwire be sure and post it on your blog.

And yet another entry – the connection has been painfully slow lately. My husband finally started a chat session with a Clearwire representative because he was unable to stream media from netflix. The rep told him that was never their intent. So I am breaking up with you, Clearwire, once and for all. I mean it this time.

Last night Burp Rag dreamt that she was at the post office mailing a package. Shudder the horror. With two small children, one of whom is a runner. After hours of leaving the line to catch them then getting back at the end of the line the line did finally ease up. Two tellers were open, each with one person being helped. Burp Rag was next in the uni-line. Just as one teller opened and she was about to step forward a rush of new customers ran through the door and a man beat her to the open teller. She was left out of line and none of the post office workers cared. None of the customers cared. All she could do was stand there furiously shaking four fingers. “I’ve been in this line for four hours” she shouted. No one cared. The postal workers motioned for her to get back at the end of the line. And then the children were nowhere to be seen.

This follows last week’s extremely realistic dream of being attacked by a tiger and successfully fending him off with a dinner plate. But the postal workers she’s helpless against.

Tigers be forewarned. Burp Rag’s got dinnerware and she’s not afraid to use it!

What the heck is going on? A global recession is unprecedented but apparently we are in the midst of it. Alan Greenspan’s admission of flawed logic has truly shaken the world.

Honestly, has there ever been a better time to be Amish than now? Will we soon start hearing cries for Isolationism?

Burprag is attracted to the idea of picking up everything and moving to a rural location where we have access to our activities (hiking, camping, fishing, skiing and mountain climbing), the climate is forgiving and temperate, and we can afford enough space to live off the grid.

This blog feeds my fire: as the butter churns, both because she is my age with a family and had the courage to completely reinvent herself when I’m sure many around her told her she was crazy, and because she is doing what I want to be doing but on a much grander scale.

Well, I never wanted to build a colonial town but the whole turning in your high-falutin’ career and heels and fancy wardrobe and shiny car and stressful deadlines, long hours and eeking out precious minutes with your family for a simpler and near-lost lifestyle really appeals to me. My husband has told me I somehow became a hippy after having children. I’m proud of that.

I would finally have room for the cow and goats for butter and cheese, chickens for eggs and rabbits for…well we won’t discuss what the rabbits are for but you may all be getting lucky feet for Christmas. I would need a llama and sheep for wool for my reincarnated Great Aunt Twyla under the guise of mamaoknits.blogspot.com, who’s inner artisan is not yet complete because she still buys her yarn.

Are you still reading, or are you on the phone with your broker trying to dump your mutual funds?

Every summer we head for the beach for an extended weekend. This summer there was a scheduling error that prevented us from going until September, which in Washington is practically winter. Although the forecast was for low 50’s and rain we lucked into unseasonably mild weather and clouds – perfect wine picnic temp.

We usually frequent a remote place on the Washington coast called Iron Springs where the beach is sparsely populated and beautiful, dogs are allowed to run freely in the surf and there are no distractions like internet access, phones or restaurants. Extremely crude cabins are nestled into the mountainside heading up the bluff from the beach. The oldest ones were built just after the turn of the century and the newest ones were built in the fifties.

To call Iron Springs a time capsule would be pretty accurate. Little has been updated over the years which is sad because the property is stunning. The furnishings have seen a lot of use and the cleaning leaves some to be desired. We have always come back because of the remoteness and isolation.

This year as we were checking in my husband wheeled the ice chest through the kitchen area and somehow nailed a field mouse. I quickly scooped him up in the coffee filter and threw him in the trash. The next night as soon as the dog had gone out to do her duty his brother darted out from under the stove. We chased him around with a broom but he was too quick, or we had drank too much wine and were too slow. Luckily that was the last night. I think next year we’ll board the dog, head back to Seaside, OR and fight the crowds instead.

Toddler turned two in July and we went down to Grandma’s in Shelton for the day. Not your ordinary Grandma, my husband’s mom always goes the extra mile for everything. She baked Toddler a birthday cake that looked like a giant cupcake. He LOVED it as you can see.

Here he is blowing out the candles. Chicken Little waits impatiently to take over the blowing duties.

“Open please”.

Yesterday we piled into the family car and drove to Carnation to Remlinger Farms to ride the steam train and run amok in the hay maze.

Chicken Little was none too happy. As we were boarding he realized his sweatshirt had a big splotch of some sort of fowl poop on it.

Toddler made it to the center of the maze after about 25 minutes of frenetic jumping in the bouncy house.

We finally made it home with some caramel apples and two very tired kids. This was our first year without Grandma and the cousins and it just wasn’t the same. Hopefully next year we’ll have Grandma back…

The latest in cardboard creations. We always have a lot of cardboard boxes around our house. In the past we’ve created airplanes, cars, robots, castles, pirate ships and even the Scooby Doo Mystery Van. This week Chicken Little wanted to do some astro blasting so we made him a space fighter.

I found Chicken Little playing with some Playmobil downstairs the other day. Santa, Mrs. Clause and the elves were embarking on a vacation this year. Here they are getting their safety spiel from the stewardess as they prepared to taxi down the runway. You can see the DHL truck loading their luggage.

Apparently DHL had taken over Santa’s deliveries for Christmas. “Mom,” he said very upbeat “DHL took over Santa’s job so he can go on vacation now.”

No one’s job is safe these days it seems.

So I promised some retro links since I’ve been so bad this summer with my blog. And now it’s fall and I’m still bad. Maybe by winter I’ll be catching up on fall…

Chicken Little’s birthday is in mid-August which is pretty much the only guaranteed warm weather here in Seattle. We celebrated by inviting his neighborhood friends over for a water party, with water balloons, soaker guns, an astro arch and double slip and slide for races.

To make things even more special this year my parents happened to be driving from AK to AZ and stopped in just in time and my husband’s mom was able to come up from Shelton for the party. What more could you ask for on your fifth birthday?

Here is the astro arch raining on the double slip and slide to make it as fast as possible.

Setting up the pinata – the “safer” pinata. I didn’t realize I had gotten one but they now make pinatas with ribbons hanging down. Each child pulls a ribbon and only one ribbon opens the trap door to release the candy. While we were all involved in water balloon warfare Toddler snuck over and pulled every single string save one. And wouldn’t you know, that last string was the money string. If that’s not Murphy’s Law in action I don’t know what is.

Uncanny how all three of them look exactly alike, isn’t it? Chicken Little’s final proof that he really IS the batman.

Toddler’s first tootsie pop (or any candy actually) in the loving arms of Grandma. The perfect ending to a napless day.