
Upon seeing a picture of the Statue of Liberty:
Cole - "There's Moroni!"
Hmmm, I'll bet there's something profound there...

A couple weeks of TLC and a tiny little garden sprouted up right before their eyes.
Good work, boys. Not a single smashing incident.
Then they were ready for a new home - a bigger place with a view,
There were a few meltdowns over mud pies,
but every plant and every boy survived.
Zabriskies gave us this start, so it was a little ahead of our own - but look at this! 4 Little zucchinis already!
One month ago, we had a bag of seeds. Now we have these cucumbers racing for space.
Good job, boys!!
We are following the lead of our friends and calling this place the "Newt Pond" because it's chock full of 'em this time of year. Specifically we're talking about the rough-skinned newt characterized by bumpy skin and an orange belly.
Another characteristic of the skin is the high level of tetrodotoxin. So it's okay to touch (we hope), just don't eat (unless you're a garter snake).
They are mostly terrestrial but they head back to the water for the spring mating season. And like we say in the northwest, "If the pond is a rocking, it's time for some newting." (Okay, I've never actually heard anyone say that and I'm not even sure that "newting" is a real verb but you get the idea.)
Our tally this day, with the aid of our fearless newt hunting friends, was 17 newtish amphibians, 0 witches,
and only one fearless newt hunter "accidentally" falling in.
Easy as falling off a log, indeed.
If you thought their car driving was crazy, just wait until they zip past you on their new Thomas the Tank Engine bike.
At least they steer pretty well...
...sometimes.
until that little boy (namely Cole) slips into a surprisingly deep (4 ft) pond. We three moms, talking just a little ways off, heard "Cole fell in! Cole fell in!" and before I could even get my arthritic knees + baby in arms off the blanket we were sitting on, our hero mom (Jessica - who lives here) was all the way in the water, fishing the poor boy out. I got there just before she grabbed him - in time to see his terrified little face poking out of the water. Thanks, Jess!!! Did I mention her twin girls turn ONE next week? (Plus she has a two yr old boy - I guess she's used to operating at top speeds.)
While 70° is a real nice day, it's hardly swimming temps, and I guess only Cole and his life guard know just how invigorating a quick dip can be (even Jess was up to her shoulders, as you can see.)
...but as long as the girls don't care, you shouldn't either.
This is the toy I dreamed of having when I was a child. The closest I got was the Autopia at Disneyland and that was mostly just disappointing.
And to think, we found it on the cheap during a spontaneous visit to a yard sale. After fixing a minor steering issue, we're cruising the neighborhood and even off-roading around the yard. With a top speed of about 5 mph, you'll have to walk fast to keep up. Just don't get in the way because we're not so good at swerving or slamming on the brakes... Watch out!!
Bryn demonstrates her talent of chewing on anything she can get her hands on.
The boys tire of waiting in line and start picking up rocks.
At last we load into a dump truck for a ride through the quarry.
I need some big cement pipes for the boys to play in.
Heeeeere's Cole!
Wait, a sandbox? Couldn't we have just stayed home and avoided the crowds?
Oh yeah, we don't have dump truck rides or bulldozers to play on at home.
Ride the wave!
More pipes and tubes to navigate.
Here's the solution to childhood obesity: hamster wheels.
How do you know when it's time to go home? Usually, it's pretty obvious.
Apparently some people call that the "happy baby" position, but Bryn is happy in any position. Now straighten that right leg and hold.
Finally, twist across with the left leg. I think this position is called "twisting turtle monkey".
There, now don't you feel better?
which gave of itself to protect this bone. (Note the undefined area around the tip of the smaller index finger, which Evan referred to as "hamburger." I never have cared for hamburger, and this didn't help.)
So the padding around the bone didn't fare so well in the fight with the router. In fact, the router didn't have a scratch, so I'd say Router - 1, Dad - 0. (No rematches, please.) Happy boys when the train table is done - 2.
Oh, what a dad won't give to make the best train table in the world for his boys!
2. Label cups full of dirt, with drain whole in the bottom. (I like to say "dirt" because it enrages fussy pants horticulturists, who call it "soil." I did, after all, work in the business my entire employed life.)
3. Add seeds. (Hopefully not a whole pack of carrots between two cups. I also can't wait to see the new garden that will be sprouting under our deck, soon, in the lawn.)
4. Pour dirt on top, and pat down lightly. (TIP: Costco grape containers make great greenhouses.)
5. Check with supervisor to make sure everything was done properly. She approved.