Category: Dane

Posted on

Big Hands…Soft Heart

Look at this sweet baby…

sitting soooo still…getting her hair combed.

Oh, but she wouldn’t let mommy do it.

She wouldn’t let Grammy do it.

It positively, absolutely HAD to be…Uncle Dane.

And those big, old, football throwing hands worked hard—I’ll tell you–to get every hair to stay where they belonged.

And those same big, old hands had a heck of a time making the teeny tiny rubber bands behave properly.

He wasn’t very happy with the end result. Said Chompy looked “more like George Washington than our baby girl,” and that I “shouldn’t post pictures of such a silly thing.”

But you know I will, because, I say, whenever you find evidence of love like this–you should capture it—

and hold it close to your heart…as proof…

that no matter what happens in this life–deep down…

everything really will be all right.

605

Posted on

:: The Magical Scrapbasket ::

It all started with a little girl who wanted to play in her mommy’s scrap basket for bit. It was great fun making scarves and headbands and bracelets…for about 10 minutes.

Then a very strange thing happened.

No on saw it coming.

The silly boys came along…

and changed the game entirely.

How it went from sashes and bows…

to ninjas and bad guys…

is a complete mystery to me…although, I think, perhaps it had something to do with the bearded one.

Lucky for us, that in their quest for complete world domination–even He-Man and Mighty Mouse have room for…

a properly placed Wood Sprite.

Smart guys.

682

Posted on

Festival of Colors

Dane and his pal Tyson spent the afternoon at the Festival of Colors in Spanish Fork.

All I can say is…

wowwww.

Well, ok, that’s not all I can say.

Apparently, the way this event goes–is, everyone in the crowd has small bags of colored powder–not sure what it’s made from…maybe we should look into that–

and after a long, dramatic countdown, everyone tosses some of the color into the air in lovely, brilliant bursts.

The colors mix together on the way back down and turn the air gray and smoky.

Then, of course, the craziness begins and everyone starts throwing their colors at each other—kinda like a paint ball attack…

only with dry, colored powder. I asked Dane if he could even breathe, and he said, “Ummm, I don’t know.”

I don’t know?!

Yeah, now I’m REALLY thinking about that mysterious powder…in their eyes…in their ears…in their mouths…in their brains.

Very scary indeed.

Yeah, I’ll be on the lookout for any sign of odd or peculiar behavior from these nut jobs.

More so than usual, I mean.

~sheesh.

697

Posted on

Lake Front Property

If you’ve been around a while–around this blog, I mean–then you may remember a post about our silly, floody house–that all the kids grew up in. If you need a refresher here’s the very post.

At any rate–I recently found this picture of old Daney-boy doing a heroic dive and slide–on our front lawn–to prove to his posterity that we did indeed survive a couple of pretty terrific floods. What you’re missing is how much of that water was pouring into our basement window at the very same time. After a while we learned to set everything downstairs on 2 x 4’s so when the next down pour came along–it couldn’t mercilessly soak all my stuff—from the ground up.

Well, that is–except my kids.

:]

714