My favorite youtube video

Road Trip

Michele and I drove to Grabill, In to see my cousin Barry, his wife Denise, and their three children Josiah, Bethany, and Jodty. We babysat them and we had so much fun. They are so sweet.

Family

We are having a blast! Yesterday I went out to lunch with my dad, Caitlin, Ben and Michele to Hacienda. Last night we saw the movies I am Legend and Sweeny Todd. Today Nancy and I got in more shopping. Next we want to see National Treasure 2. I was worried that Ben and Jimmy would not spend enough time playing video games, but it turns out I did'nt need to worry.

Puppies

Sometimes you just have to bury your face in warm puppies.

Samson

Michele is here! Ben will be here in a couple days. He had a music video to shoot. We love Michele's puppy. At first Boo was'nt too pleased, but now they are best friends.

Ben and Michele Are Coming To Town

In less than a week they will be here. We are so excited. I can't wait to see them. I hope we have snow. We always have the best time when they are here. It really makes for a special Christmas when all 6 of us are together. Michele is bringing her new puppy Samson on the plane. We are all curious to see how he and Boo get along.
In many ways 2007 has been a rough year. We are all ready for a new one.

NANCY QUOTES

"Honey, I love you for who you are, but Come On!"

"People act like they're so smart on things, but it's really just things ya don't need ta know."

I got up early today. I'm sitting in my chair with a shimmering Christmas tree to my left and a glowing fire to my right, each giving off it's own warmth. It's midnight-dark outside. So peaceful the sun decides to let everyone sleep in. A grateful earth sighs and pulls it's soft white blanket closer. A sleeping dog makes contented sounds as she soaks up the heat from the fire.
Life is so unfair!
It's not fair that I should have so much. I am overcome with thankfulness. I think about my sleeping family and fall in love with each one of them again. When we are thankful, the One we thank shows up to say, "You're welcome."
He directs my attention to the words of an ancient song. "Give thanks to the Lord, His love endures forever...In my anguish I cried to the Lord and he answered by setting me free." wow. That's just the answer I was looking for. To be set free.
"The Lord is my helper, I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? The Lord is with me...He is my strength and my song, He has become my salvation. The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone; The Lord has done this and it is marvelous in our eyes. This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. You are my God and I will exalt you. Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, his love endures forever." (From Psalm 118)
The sun can't sleep in any longer and awakens a bird, who wakes up my dog, who wakes up my family. And my heart awakes. I want to stay thankful today, so that the One I thank will stay close, directing my attention to all I have to be thankful for.

MURDER MYSTERY

We'll call the photo Exhibit A. It's a picture of me and my Grandma Clara Klopfenstein circa 1969. I’d like to draw your attention to the goldfish bowl on the right. If you could see inside of the murky water you would see two very frightened goldfish. We'll get to the fish in a minute. What's up with that water? Wasn't it ever changed? More importantly, which one of my siblings wasn't doing their chore and is it too late to tell on them and get them in trouble?
The fish certainly preferred the dirty water where they could hide from me. As a five year old I loved to play with the fish. I would catch them one at a time and carry them to the play room. I'd shut the door because I'd gotten in trouble for this before. I placed them on the floor and they would jump so high! They were the happiest fish.
I never understood why this was wrong because the fish obviously loved it. They were so excited. I laughed with every wiggle. A boy and his fish. I invented a game similar to Jacks. I'd see how many green army men I could scoop up and still catch the fish.
It wasn't that the goldfish were just happy to be free of the dirty water, they were excited to spend time with me. We would play until one of two things happened. Either my Mom would yell, "Tommy, you better not have the fish in the play room again!" or exhausted from all the fun, the fish would go to sleep. I would quietly carry them back to their bowl to tuck them in, where they would float peacefully upon the opaque water.
They would sleep all day.
Later I would learn of their deaths.
It was always a most unexpected blow and I would go through each of the Elizabeth Kubler Ross stages of grief. They can't be dead, I just saw them! Whenever I was informed of the death of a goldfish, even as a five year old, I sensed something in the tone of Moms voice. Was that accusation I detected?
As if I were somehow responsible for the murders? How unthinkable. I was the usual suspect. Blame the child. How very convenient. I'm the victim here. No one grieved more than me. I never once saw anyone else in the family shed so much as a tear for these most tragic losses.
My alibis were easily dismissed seeing as how I possessed no concept of time. I tried to help in the investigation by offering my theories. We could rule out Kathy, an avowed animal lover. Jim, being thirteen years old, would certainly have had motive. But I secretly suspected that the murderer was none other than... Mom!
Wasn't it Mom who had killed the garage rabbits with carbon monoxide poisoning? Wasn't it Mom who drowned the baby mouse with an eye dropper of milk?
For all we knew, Mom, if that was her real name, was responsible for that rash of dead hamsters in the neighborhood. Suddenly every pet death had to be reexamined. Every closed case had to be reopened. What really happened to Tiger? And what about Fred the alligator? Did he really die of starvation?
At this point I would like to digress and set the record straight on the naming of Fred. On my fifth birthday my dad brought home a little box from the pet store. There were pictures of birds on the sides so I was pretty sure I knew what my present was. I had my face close to the box and I screamed when I saw an alligator where a bird was supposed to be.
I named him after my favorite Uncle, Uncle Fred. There was actually a discussion about this choice. The consensus was that Uncle Fred might be offended. So based on this flimsy excuse Fred was rejected for a less controversial name.
It was my brother Jim who inexplicably came up with the unfortunate name King Sultan. Which happens to be the most stupid alligator name I've ever heard. And Jim, if you're reading this, I'm not afraid to say it to your face. As a namer of alligators, you stink.
I know for a fact that Uncle Fred would not have been offended at having an alligator named after him. He would have recognized it for the honor it was. It was my brothers name for him that stuck. Publicly anyway. Whenever I was alone with him, I defiantly called him Fred.
Fred was a member of our family for a little over one week. He wouldn't eat. We later learned that if you have an anorexic alligator you are supposed to push raw hamburger down his throat. Sticking my finger down the mouth of this creature would never have occurred to me.
We now return to our murder mystery.
We only got one more set of goldfish after the alligator died. Most of them were buried in the backyard with a little funeral ceremony. As the body count increased, the trauma decreased. I became desensitized and even came to expect that some pets just didn't live very long.
We stopped having sermons at the funerals. Then we stopped having funerals. The last two were just flushed down the toilet. Buried at sea. I lost interest in solving the mystery and besides, exhuming buried pets in the backyard pet cemetery would prove to be a never ending task based on the sheer number of bodies.
When I was about eight years old I came to accept my complicity in the demise of so many goldfish. It wasn't until a few years after we abruptly stopped buying them that I learned about the true life-span of the domesticated goldfish.
I was talking to a friend who showed me the two his parents had just bought him. I mentioned how annoying it will be to have to buy new ones every few days. He looked puzzled. I explained to the novice that goldfish only live a few days, maybe a week if you're lucky. He said that he had them before and they would always live for many months.
Clearly he didn't know what he was talking about. As we continued to compare notes, two differences in our goldfish experiences became obvious. One, he never took them out to play with. Not even once. He'd never even heard of games like Goldfish Jacks. And Two, the water in his fish bowl was disturbingly clear. You could actually see them swimming around. They were so much fun to watch, to enjoy them you wouldn't need to take them...out...of...the...
My brain slowly began to wrap itself around the realization that I...I was the fish murderer. I'm sure the room didn't really spin, but that's my memory of the next few moments. I saw hundreds of dead goldfish gasping for air and pointing their fins at me accusingly.
I ran home and confessed everything to Mom. She said it was OK and that she understood how badly I felt because she too had accidentally killed some of our pets. In fact, she had caused the untimely deaths of dozens of our animal friends through the years. I was right about the mouse and the garage rabbits! She was cleared of the alligator charge.
She talked to me about why we felt so badly. It's because life is precious. Very precious. Having childhood pets taught us about life, death, compassion, and responsibility. We learned to respect, nurture, and protect life. Especially life that is smaller and weaker than we are. For many of us, pets introduced us to the concept of where babies come from. We found out that holding a kitten made everything OK and that nothing made us giggle harder than the kisses of a puppy. We learned that dogs could be trusted with secrets.
As I got older I was trusted with less disposable pets such as cats and dogs. Well, dogs anyway. I learned that dogs have to be fed everyday and cats hate to be picked up by their ears. Taking care of pets is good training for being a parent. Just watch a little girl sing to her kitten as she rocks her to sleep. She's loving on a baby from a future mothers heart.
And in case you're wondering, I almost never picked up my children by their ears.