Here, my wife and daughter ride the water at Sea World. We spent most of the day there yesterday.
Tag: family
Quiet Contemplation
My daughter looks out towards the Children’s Pool in San Diego.
Breaking the Ice at Ice Town
This morning we returned to that rink in the mall, Ice Town, for a dramatically different skating experience. I had wondered, “Who puts an ice rink in a shopping mall?” The rink could be fun for kid and teen shoppers, but little more. My bad. A lot more.
Ice Town packs in the serious skaters. My daughter returned during the Tuesday morning Freestyle session, where there were plenty of high-level skaters, including a young man representing Mexico in world competition.
Ice Town
Vacation 07 had to include skating practice for my 13 year-old daughter. My wife did some Internet research and located a rink fairly close to our motel. But when we got to the address, we […]
Thanks, Mom
I was 14 when my mother saved my life. It was, in fact, my 14th birthday.
Dad, mom, my three sisters, and I had gone to my grandparents house to celebrate. Nana made tasty pork chops, for which I had no appetite. For dessert, there was fresh baked chocolate cake—yum, my favorite—and actually two. I had no taste for cake, either. Instead, after picking at my food, I lay down on the couch. My sister Annette, who is closest in age to me, also was ill. We both had fevers, and I assumed that we shared the same flu.
Skating with a Cold on Ice
My daughter skated her second competition today. What misery. She sped onto the ice with nasty cold and cough, which limited her performance. She placed third out of five skaters. My daughter started serious skating in September 2006 and has quickly advanced through the Ice Skating Institute levels. She skated today at Freestyle 4 against other 11-12 year-old girls. She soon will be testing for the United States Figure Skating Associaton, hoping to join the local club.
I took out, for the first time, our new Canon HV20 camcorder, the family’s first new model since the original Elura in 1999.
In the Waiting Line
Some things are just too weird for rational definition or explanation. Tonight, my daughter had the most unusual and upsetting experience while waiting in line at the local Old Navy.
We went to the store looking for blue jeans. My daughter, who is 12, said she needed a new pair. After trying on a few pairs, she picked out faded jeans. But tween angst led us out of the Old Navy to the Aeropstale, where she tried on a pair of size 00R. Size zero zero? They fit, but she decided on the Old Navy jeans. I gave her money to buy the pants, and we separated so that I could grab some cherry turnovers from the Arby’s.
More MacBook Goes to Guatemala
Earlier in the week, I blogged that my sister the missionary would be getting a MacBook. Today, she sent around an e-mail updating about her Guatemalan mission. She mentioned the laptop, which her husband likely will use.
MacBook Goes to Guatemala
My sister the missionary—I have two others, but not missionaries—asked my buying advice for a new laptop. In the past, I helped outfit her with a Sony VAIO S Series notebook. This time, after much […]
Guatemala: One Year and Five Weeks
My sister’s sojourn in Central America continues, as she and husband Howie enter their second year as full-time missionaries.
Whom We Remember
Today would have been my mother-in-law’s 86th birthday, if she were alive. She died about 10 years ago, while my family was on 18-month hiatus back home in Northern Maine.
My wife wanted to celebrate, in part, because not enough birthdays were spent together. I saw the small remembrance as opportunity to express continuity of the generations to our daughter. My daughter never met her older grandmother (my mom—the younger grandma—is 64, but, sssh, don’t tell her I said so).
The Christmas I Couldn’t Forget
When I was in fourth grade, my parents both had jobs—a novelty in Northern Maine during the late 1960s but start of a national trend. Dad worked as a supervisor at the food processing plant and mom was night manager at a local hotel/motel. Financially, those were good years, when both my parents generated income. My mother would later lose her position, after the elegant facility burned down under mysterious circumstances. But that’s another story.
Christmas Eve, when my three younger sisters and I could open one present, I hardly could contain my want. Actually, I couldn’t contain it. My parents had gone out to food shop, preparation for feast as part of a spectacularly planned Christmas Day. They could afford to spend more on us that year than ever. Quite excited were they to give to their kids.