BUMMER-FREE ZONE

THE BUMMER-FREE ZONE HAS MOVED...

2010-01-25T12:09:00.000-08:00

Like a band of nomads that settles into a spot until the area's resources are depleted before moving on again the Bummer-Free Zone has struck it's tents, extinguished the fires, roused the beasts of burden, and have moved on to the next valley, which is to say that Blogger won't let me upload anymore photos without paying a fee.

www.bummerfreezone.blogspot.com

I'm still unpacking boxes and setting things up over at the Bummer-Free Zone's new home, but feel free to come over anytime- just excuse the mess.

PERHAPS THE MOST COMPELLING SASQUATCH FOOTAGE TO COME ALONG SINCE THE PATTERSON FILM

2010-01-24T17:56:00.001-08:00

MY SHOES UPDATE

2010-01-23T22:56:00.000-08:00

As you well know, I have three pairs of boots (1, 2, and 3). With all of the snow we've gotten recently they have been getting the start over the Captain of my footwear, the Champlain Boat Shoes. When one pair of boots gets too damp I set it out to dry and grab the next pair in the rotation. By rotating my boots through in this manner I always have a dry pair of boots at the ready.

A couple of days ago I pulled out these old boots to add them to the rotation and realized that I hadn't worn them since our trip back to Vermont in October, and thus they were still encrusted with mud from the very shores of Lake Champlain. I almost declined to wear them, but then decided that was silly, but being a sentimental person, it made me miss all of you back there.

MORE SNOW ACTION...

2010-01-23T22:24:00.000-08:00

Snow=Work

Yesterday.

Today.

The famous Southern California sun made its return today, and the blue skies, sparkling snow, and crisp air made for a picture perfect day here in Idyllwild.

The gully which runs through the middle of the camp is absolutely perfect for sledding. It forms a big "U". The slope on the eastern side is much steeper than that on the western side.

Here are some of our campers shooting down one of the steepest inclines.

This guy is absolutely crazy. He made his way to the dining hall this morning in shorts and flip-flops. We don't have shoveled pathways so he waded through a foot and a half of snow like that, and then later I saw him sledding in shorts and a t-shirt.

This is a very poor shot of Sarah and Lucy wiping out.

Here they are a little dazed afterwards and checking themselves out to make sure everything still functions as it ought.

Snow angels.

SNOW DAY

2010-01-22T21:37:00.000-08:00

We woke up this morning to a heap of snow, which continued to fall throughout the day, and even now is softly swishing against the window as I type.

Not only is snow wonderful, which it truly is, but the wonder of waking up to a world transformed was magnified by the news that Bowden's school canceled classes today. He was positively giddy. Unfortunately, the snow and the arrival of two groups here at the camp made extra work for me, which largely prevented me from enjoying the snow holiday with him. I did take a break from work in the afternoon though to go sledding with Bowden and Lucy. Camp Maranatha has an awesome sledding hill! It's a little too scary for Lucy though.

I like this picture. Sarah is such a good Mom.

Our little mon-chichi (sp?) slave was tasked with clearing the driveway.

Lucy likes the idea of snow, and will lobby hard for sledding and building snow men and such, but without fail, five to ten minutes into it her fingers are cold, she wants cocoa, her bottom is soggy, there's snow in her boot, she wants to be carried, etc... All of that is captured in the little face above.

"Get back to work, slave!"

2010-01-21T00:03:00.000-08:00

I think that songs and smells are the closest we’ll ever come to experiencing time travel. They can really transport sometimes, can’t they? I wonder why we are so designed. Occasionally a smell will waft to my nose or I’ll catch a song on the radio and I find myself removed to a nearly forgotten moment or season. It’s more than a memory though- it’s like my whole person is shifted. Yet it’s also spectral in that, while vivid, it ultimately lacks substance. It fails to satisfy whatever it has aroused. Try as I might to regain the fullness of the conjured moment, person or place- try as I might to drag the past into the present with all of its imagery and emotion- I usually end up just feeling titillated. The veil of time never parts.

SCOTT BROWN!!!

2010-01-19T18:37:00.001-08:00

BOWDEN LOVES HIS BANK, GRANDMA AND GRANDPA TATE.

2010-01-16T19:47:00.000-08:00

LET'S PLAY ILLUSTRATION- The game where I give you a scenario and you tell me what spiritual analogies can be drawn from it.

2010-01-16T19:10:00.001-08:00

LUCY

2010-01-16T18:59:00.000-08:00

(In a crowded and noisy dining hall.)

"I want to draw a present for Mama."

"You want to draw President Obama?"

"Uh-huh"

"Why?"

"Because I love her."

"President Obama is a man."

"So."

BOWDEN

2010-01-16T13:01:00.000-08:00

"Daddy, don't go!"

"Why?"

"Because I want to do something with you."

"Like what."

"I want you to run around the room so I can practice shooting at a moving target."

THE DANGER OF SCANNING FOR A RED SWEATSHIRT

2010-01-15T21:09:00.000-08:00

During my brief tenure as a police officer I responded once to an assault at a bar, and upon arrival I was told by a witness that the male offender had run away from the scene wearing a red sweatshirt. I relayed this information to the other cars on patrol and everyone circled around looking for the man in the red sweatshirt.

I would find out later that the man had cannily ditched his red sweatshirt shortly after fleeing the scene, and was thus able to temporarily elude us.

I read today that Nigeria has been added to a list of nations (Afghanistan, Algeria, Cuba, Lebanon, Lybia, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen) whose citicens will automatically face tougher screening before boarding U.S. bound flights. Some have raised objections that this is discriminatory. I disagree with that. It makes as much sense to me as scanning for a man in a red sweatshirt. It makes sense, but therein lies the danger- they know we're doing it.

I'm afraid that all Al Qaeda will have to do to elude our thin line of defense is ditch the red sweatshirt so to speak. I predict that it won't be long before we see an act of terrorism perpetrated by an Islamic extremist who does not look like one and who does not hail from one of these problem nations. Maybe she'll be a fair-haired college student from France or Canada. Maybe it'll be an elderly man from Greece or a troubled teenager from an American suburb. Major Hasan was a U.S. serviceman. The danger in profiling passengers based on their nation of origin is not that it unfairly discriminates against them, but that it lends itself to a certain myopia or tunnel vision. They're looking for that red sweatshirt, ya know?

I would feel better if those charged with our security would drop this nation of origin business and standardize their screening procedures to allow for the evil potential of each passenger.

PAT ROBERTSON, JUST BE QUIET. PLEASE.

2010-01-14T13:24:00.000-08:00

BEST WIFE EVER.

2010-01-12T21:11:00.000-08:00

Sarah is a fanatic about observing birthdays. She really goes all out to make you feel special on your birthday- wether you want it or not!!! This year she arranged babysitting (special thanks to Lisa Richard and Katie Bayer for stepping up the challenge) so we could go out on the town- just the two of us (The last time that happened was the night Miles was conceived. Josh! Did you really write that?!?! Shut up, inner voice!). She also made me whoopie pies (photo above) as well as a bunch of my other favorite foods. The kids all bought me different colored rabbit pelts. Yep, it's true, rabbit pelts, and they also manufactured numerous scribbly drawings, which kept coming all day until the pockets of my blue jeans were filled to bursting with their crumpled and tattered offerings. I would have posted a picture of the rabbit pelts but they will be making an appearance in an upcoming installment of "Arts and Crafts with Josh Tate," so don't worry- you'll see them then. Just as I thought the day was winding down, a trip over to Lisa's house to pick up the kids turned into a surprise birthday party! I was really surprised too.

Here we are on our date (I look like I'm scheming something evil). Check out Sarah's "date sweater." That's the sweater she wore on our first date (also at an Idyllwild eatery) all those many years ago. She's hot.

THANKS CHAD!

2010-01-11T08:32:00.001-08:00

My friend, Chad Irving, first introduced me to the Eagle Man commercial through his blog (now defunct). We watched it a few times while they were out over New Years, and now the kids walk around all day "playing Eagle Man." If you have never seen the Eagle Man commercial do yourself a favor and remedy that today. I can't decide which I enjoy more the women or Eagle Man. Did he really just lay an egg?!?! Was this commercial inspired by an acid trip? This is definitely one of the strangest and funniest ads I've ever seen. I like it a lot!

2010-01-11T08:07:00.000-08:00

I will be posting the much anticipated final installment to the Water Trees of Jogues Valley pretty soon, and I thought I would link all of the previous installments here as some of you have expressed an interest in getting caught up before the grand finale is unveiled.

DISCOVERY

THE BOWL RAT

CELTANINE

THE TEMPLE OF EDEN

SOWING THE SEEDS OF REVOLUTION

1919

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

2010-01-11T08:01:00.000-08:00

2010-01-10T09:28:00.000-08:00

There are some things that will always remind me of my Grandpa McCuen, like the smell of pipe tobacco, Jeep Wagoneers, and headdresses, but whenever I see a man wearing the combination of shorts and black socks I never fail to think of John Eugene McCuen.

2010-01-09T14:15:00.000-08:00

I’ve walked away
On many nights,
Quiet as a cloud,
Across the field,
And into the woods,
Beneath the moon
With shoes still wet
From the water’s edge,
And with words rising in my throat
Like the contents of a shaken bottle,
Ready to burst from my frame
If they could find no other escape
Than the feeble door of my lips.

In the liberty of solitude
I have often said things
I would not have said
Where ears could catch them.

Oh, the words I have loosed
And the things I have confessed
In the woods at night
With only God for an audience.

OVERHEARD

2010-01-08T19:30:00.000-08:00

"No, no, no! You don't have to tell him anything! If he gives you any s#*%^ just tell him to shut the f#%* up!"
Angry man speaking on a cell phone at the dump- Idyllwild, CA

"I love it up here. Everybody's so nice."
Middle aged woman to a stranger who was holding the door for her at the Post Office- Idyllwild, CA

"She's still out in the car. Just as we were parking, a song came on that she liked so she said she was gonna stay out there."
Older man to a female cashier at Fairway Market- Idyllwild, CA

HANGING BETWEEN THE SKY AND THE BOG...

2010-01-08T19:25:00.000-08:00

...Is the product of their union- the fog.

I THINK THAT IN ADDITION TO WIND CHILL FACTOR THEY SHOULD HAVE A SLEEPINESS FACTOR.

2010-01-07T08:49:00.000-08:00

I have observed that sometimes after I have just woken up or if I am really sleepy it can feel a full ten degrees cooler than it actually is.

SOME OF YOU WILL BE PLEASED TO KNOW THAT THERE WILL BE JUST ONE MORE INSTALLMENT OF THE WATER TREES OF JOGUES VALLEY. HATERS.

2010-01-03T16:32:00.000-08:00

...but don't get too excited, the adventures of THE SLEEPING CLUB and their wacky founder, John Cornish, are just beginning. Check back in here for THE RETURN TO JOGUES VALLEY- which will be the final installment in the series.

THE WATER TREES OF JOGUES VALLEY- 1919

2010-01-03T16:30:00.000-08:00

Henri Al Jamil’s beginnings are shrouded in mystery. According to his official biography, he was sold as an infant to a traveling band of Hayam tribesmen by an Indian woman living on the outskirts of Abalta in 1879. According to Al Jamil's adopted family, the woman had named the infant "Henri." Many have speculated that this woman probably worked as a prostitute in Abalta’s thriving sex industry, but that is purely conjecture. The woman’s identity and livelihood remain unknown to this day. Nothing is known of Al Jamil's father.

In 1901, Al Jamil, age 22, married Afifah Basha’ir, age 15. The young couple settled near Dimah northwest of Abalta where Al Jamil managed a number of olive groves for a wealthy Frenchman named Guillaume Tourine. In that same year Al Jamil was selected to join a delegation from the Hayam to present a list of grievances to the colonial government at Le Mur.

Although the Hayam delegation failed to accomplish anything of consequence, the visit to Le Mur would have a profound and lasting impact on Al Jamil who was appalled by what he witnessed there. Under the growing influence of the Edenist cult the drug-addled city of Le Mur was fast gaining a deserved reputation for debauchery and hedonism, which offended Al Jamil- a devout Muslim. Following a visit to Le Mur In 1904, Canadian missionary, Jonathan Till, commented, “That foul den of iniquity [Le Mur] has outdone Sodom, if it is possible, in the business of sin. They embrace, and, indeed, publicly celebrate the most wicked and perverse inclinations of fallen man.”

In the decade that followed, Al Jamil would emerge as an outspoken and effective critic of the colonial Government. In April of 1911, he was arrested on charges of sedition and inciting violence following a speech at the soccer stadium in Sihel which drew a crowd of more than 20,000. For nine months Al Jamil was held in the prison at Le Mur, during which time he came to believe that the Edenists were right about the identity of the Jogues Valley- that it truly was the lost Garden of Eden- but unlike the Edenists, he described the valley as “the home of evil,” and, from that time forward, he saw it as his duty to return the valley to isolation thus removing it and it’s corrupting influences from mankind forever. In 1912, Al Jamil was released from prison and fled with his wife and family into the fastness of the Taresh-Dafare desert where he began planning and organizing the coming revolution.

During World War I, Al Jamil successfully built a coalition between the various tribes that live in the Taresh-Dafare desert, and, through force and diplomacy established himself as their leader. Believing further negotiations with the French contrary to the will of Allah, Al Jamil announced the beginning of the revolution on January 11, 1919 by destroying the vulnerable and unprotected Trans Taresh-Dafare railway at several points east and west of Le Mur thus effectively cutting the Jogues Valley off from the rest of the world. Communication with the valley would remain impossible from that time until after Al Jamil's death in 1971.

The French Colonial Government was woefully unprepared for the revolution which came seemingly out of nowhere and which swept across the colony overnight. What little resistance the French offered up was ultimately futile as Al Jamil and his numerous supporters routed the weakened and outnumbered French military in every engagement. The cash-strapped and war-weary French were not inclined to commit to a lengthy and expensive effort to retake the colony, but even so it was not until 1932 that the French officially recognized Taresh-Dafare as an independent nation. Henri Al Jamil declared victory over the French on February 1, 1919. He gave himself the title “Lord Protector of Taresh-Dafare,” and ruled as dictator until his death on November 3, 1971.

On April 2, 1972, his son, Ayman, who had succeeded to the office of Lord Protector upon his father’s death, granted a request from the French government to send a party of medical staff and government representatives back to Le Mur to discover what had become of the nearly 3,000 souls who had been abandoned there 53 years earlier.

OFF THE HILL

2010-01-03T08:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, Sarah and I loaded the kids into the minivan and drove to the desert. More specifically, we drove down to "The Living Desert" in the city of Palm Desert. (Excessive use of the word, "desert?") The Living Desert is a zoo which specializes in showcasing flora and fauna from deserts around the world. Lucy gets carsick very easily. We were nearly down the mountain when her tummy went into full revolt and forced our party off into this scenic pullout. Just as well, it was nice to thaw out in the sun and take in the view of the desert cities. (The word "desert" occurs 7 times in the above paragraph. Just in case you were curious.)

The Living Desert is small as far as zoos go, but their exhibits are top shelf. I was fine with the Living Desert's size as I'm not much of a zoo person. Sarah and the kids love them though.

I thought the giraffes against the backdrop of the mountains was an especially striking exhibit.

Check out this specimen of the Ankole Cattle from Africa. Their horns are massive!

Kids always love a petting zoo.

Check out these bloodthirsty desert tortoises.

I caught Lucy attempting to climb on top of the wall which encloses the tortoise exhibit, and loudly warned her that if she fell in the tortoises would attack her. She giggled, but the numerous bystanders that were present, and within earshot, didn't offer up so much as a snicker. I thought it was funnier than that.

Miles can sit up in a high chair now. That's a major milestone in the return to sanity.

Took in a wildlife show, but the only pictures worth posting were of this cerval. It was a good show though. To me, this is how the zoo should be. Bring 'em out and make 'em do stuff. None of this craning-your-neck-so-you-can-catch-a-glimpse-of-the-tip-of-a-mountain-lion's-tail stuff.

Bighorn sheep.

When did going to the zoo become like a five hour guilt trip?

Mexican wolves.

A lush oasis.

Isaiah 40:11

2010-01-01T18:59:00.001-08:00

We haven't done this in a long time, but before Miles came along, the kids and I used to get up earlier than Mommy on many mornings, and it became a favorite activity of ours to watch animal videos on youtube while we waited for the house to come fully awake. One morning we came upon this gem which depicts a mother mountain lion defending her kitten against a grizzly bear. What parent can't identify with the mountain lion? I too would fight a grizzly bear in defense of my kids, although I doubt the results would be the same. Sometimes when I take inventory of the world and the trajectory of our own culture I look around and wish there was something I could fling myself at. But we are not mountain lions. The Bible tells us that we are sheep, and as sheep our strength, and the protection of the lambs in our midst, lies in our proximity to the shepherd. My one and only resolution for 2010 is to draw nearer to the shepherd.

THE SLEEPING CLUB- #1

2010-01-01T12:37:00.000-08:00

John Cornish (photo above), founder and President of Cornish Foods, began what is popularly known as "The Sleeping Club" in October, 2001. Cornish, who suffered for years from chronic insomnia, stated in a July, 2003 interview with the Southwest Journal of Health that the concept for the sleeping club first occurred to him one night when his Grandson woke up from a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. “I sat down on the edge of his bed in the dark,” said Cornish, “and, for some reason, the idea came to me to pretend with him that we were settling down to sleep somewhere else- somewhere interesting and strange. I remember pretending that we were sleeping next to a stream in the woods, on a train crossing India, on top of a high rise, or in a snow cave. The next thing either of us knew it was morning and the sun was shining in through the window. I knew right then and there that I had found the cure for my insomnia.” According to Cornish, he hasn’t slept in his bedroom since the day of his epiphany. “On most nights, I sleep in the back of an open pickup truck, which is driven by a man I hired. For safety reasons he mostly keeps to side streets and back roads. I like the feel of the cool night air rushing over me, the starting and stopping, the jostling of the truck, and the whirring of the tires. I love waking up refreshed under the lights of a gas station.” On other nights, Cornish coordinates with other members of his sleeping club, fellow insomniacs whom he calls “Adventure Sleepers,” to pass the night in strange or exotic locales. “It’s the only way we can sleep,” says Cornish, “Plus, it’s fun.”

THE IRVINGS CAME OUT FOR A FEW DAYS SO WE COULD ENJOY THE LAST OF 2009 TOGETHER. THEY LEFT THIS MORNING. THE HOUSE FEELS EMPTY NOW.

2010-01-01T07:39:00.000-08:00

2009 was Miles ahead of 2008.

2009-12-31T21:47:00.000-08:00

LA JOIE DE VIVRE

2009-12-31T16:29:00.000-08:00

For my last lunch of 2009 I chose clam chowder in a bread bowl.If you've never had clam chowder in a bread bowl before you simply must remedy that at the earliest opportunity. Buy a goodly chunk of bread, like the one pictured above, as well as a can of New England Clam Chowder. Just hollow out the bread until it sort of resembles a bowl and then add the chowder. The best parts are the chowder-soaked bread that you can scrape off on your spoon. It's really good.

IS A HOTDOG A SANDWICH?*

2009-12-28T23:19:00.000-08:00

*Question inspired by brother John's related question- "Is a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup a candy bar?"

THE FINAL FOOTBALL RELATED POST OF THIS SEASON. I PROMISE. NO MORE AFTER THIS. HERE IS MY FINAL ANALYSIS OF THE REDSKINS' SEASON.

2009-12-28T17:27:00.000-08:00

I have spent more than just a little time thinking about and analyzing the redskins performance this year. The central question that my inner deliberations have revolved around is very simple- “What’s wrong with them?” Last night, during the nationally televised game vs. Dallas, Chris Collinsworth, seemed to lay the lion’s share of the blame at Jason Campbell’s feet, with a little side of blame for Coach Jim Zorn. So many Campbell haters! Over the course of this season I have consumed massive amounts of media pertaining to the Redskins’ woes. With season ending injuries to Clinton Portis and Ladell Betts, the running game has been terrible. Although, in all fairness, Portis and Betts were not able to get anything done before their respective injuries and it can be argued that Washington’s running game actually improved after they made their way to the tunnel. Speaking of injuries, what happened? Is Washington cursed or something?!?! Almost everybody who is a somebody in Washington has spent some time on the sidelines with an injury this season. We have guys from off the practice squad playing at key positions, and with so many demoralizing losses even the twelfth man is listed as “Questionable” for this weekend.

What is his injury? A broken heart and stooped shoulders.

The offensive line is terrible. It was even terrible before being decimated by injuries, but now they have reached all new levels of crappiness as third and fourth string guys are called upon to fill in. The porous and weak offensive line made Campbell look worse than he is. He was constantly, and almost instantly, rushed on every snap. By allowing Campbell little or no time they kept our admittedly mediocre receiving corps from posing any sort of deep threat, and the receivers were forced to run short routes underneath or snag little screen passes just to be relevant. The O-line also didn’t allow our ground attack any holes or running lanes. What successes Rock Cartwright and Quinton Ganther were able to wrest from opposing defenses is entirely to their credit and they should be recognized for playing with heart. Fred Davis, filling in for an injured Chris Cooley at TE, was a happy surprise. I would like him to see an expanded role in the future. The only other bright spot from this season was the defense, which played extremely well. I think it can be argued that Washington has the best defense overall in the NFC East. They would be better too if they weren’t constantly on the field. For example, during our last game against the Giants, during the first quarter the time of possession was almost fourteen minutes to one in favor of New York. Our defense is really, really good, but the offense needs to give them a break every once a while. I don’t know what to make of Zorn and the play calling fiasco that was foisted upon the organization by Vinny Cerrato. The same Vinny Cerrato who has since been fired. Then, of course, there is the owner, Dan Snyder. I’m not sure how much to blame him. Oh, the Redskins’ problems are myriad!

But here is my final analysis in bullet point-

THINGS THAT MUST BE DONE FOR 2010:

Priority #1- BEEF UP THE OFFENSIVE LINE! The entire offense of any football team is predicated on a strong offensive line- pass protection, maintaining a pocket, running lanes. You can’t win without a strong o-line.

Priority #2- Fire Jim Zorn. His head must roll for this farce of a season. Shanahan? Greg Williams?

Priority #3- Go out and get some big, tall receivers- the kind you can just lob it to in the back of the end-zone and they come down with it.

THINGS THE ORGANIZATION SHOULD NOT DO:

#1- Don’t fire Jason Campbell. Fix the offensive line and he’ll perform better. I’ve decided I believe in him.

#2- I hate to say it, but it’s time to give Portis his release. It’s time to invest in some younger legs. I love the man dearly, but we can’t afford to keep him around.

#3- Don’t become so focused on fixing the offense that the defensive side of the ball is neglected. I’m happy being a defense-first club. Coach Blache has done a great job, and things should be maintained on that side of the ball.

CHRISTMAS IN THE VALLEY, 2010. (There were palm trees- just like the first Christmas!)

2009-12-26T15:44:00.000-08:00

In the afternoon, on Christmas Eve, we drove the two and a half hours to the valley for the annual Christmas Eve party with Sarah's extended family. I have come to love these large family get togethers down in the valley. Sarah's extended family is really awesome. In past years we have mostly gathered at Umpa and Grandma Fusano's house in Sylmar, although one year we all went up the Perito's in Acton, CA. But long, long before I became associated with Sarah, and by extension, the greater Fusano confederacy they all gathered each year in this basement. This is the house where Umpa and his siblings grew up, and for years and years (like when Sarah was a little girl) this was the family gathering place at Christmas time. The house is currently home to Umpa's sister, Aunt Ange, and just for old time's sake they decided to do the Christmas eve party down in the basement again this year. Literally, nobody had been down in the basement for over twenty years, not since the last Christmas eve party, and I'm told that when they went back down into the basement it was still decorated for Christmas just exactly as it had been over twenty years ago. They dusted everything down, plugged in the lights, and turned on the gas to the range. Presto! The place was ready to go. It was very, very, very nostalgic for Sarah who remembered the basement as a magical place from the tender days of her youth. I have to say I really liked it down there. Kind of close quarters, but somehow that added to the fun. It was fun to imagine Sarah as a little girl running around and waiting for Santa. Sarah kept coming to me all night with stories and memories, which the nostalgic venue had awoken in her. It was really cute.

C'mon down!

Hanging out before the food. I can't tell you how many times I heard people say something like "It's just how I remember it." That's because, as I've already said, it was exactly the same as they remembered it. Literally nothing had changed in that basement since the last Christmas party more than two decades ago.

The Christmas Eve spread! I love that stuff. Sarah's family does food right.

Why are those kids above so excited?

Santa! This year (and last year) Santa was played by the incomparable Cliff Sutherland who is married to Sarah's cousin Diana. He did an awesome job. I especially appreciated his prayer before handing out gifts. Cliff's version of Santa is very Christ-centered. I liked it.

Sarah was the hottest girl there.

Here's everybody watching Santa and the kids.

All the kids got stuffed animals that are somehow interactive online. I guess you go to some site and enter a code and it will tell you all about your specific pet and how to take care of it and stuff, or something like that. I dunno. This year, Rosie and Justin, didn't want to rush up to Idyllwild late on Christmas Eve after the party, which makes sense, and they have been great sports making the exhausting late-night trek up to our house the past couple of years. So we stayed down in the valley this year so we could enjoy the holiday together. Nanny's house is a little too small to accommodate all of us so we asked Umpa and G.G. if we could sleep at their house, which is right down the street. On their suggestion, we ended up doing Christmas Morning at Umpa's house as well, which worked out perfectly. Lots of room.

Lots of screaming, oohing, ahhing, paper shredding, and delighted squeals.

I think Jack's favorite present was a cheap little dragon he found in his stocking. He more or less ignored with his bigger presents and just focused on that little dragon. Who knew? I love that little boy.

Nanny got the kids things to ride this year. Lucy got a fancy new bike with training wheels, Jack got a big wheel, and Bowden got a razor scooter. They were big hits.

Sarah was the hottest girl there.

We drove back up to Idyllwild on the morning of the 26th, and were delighted to find all of our gifts from the Tates back east waiting under our tree. With all of the excitement we had almost forgotten about them, and the kids were very excited to have a mini-Christmas to welcome them home. Christine, the sock toys were ridiculously awesome! I was impressed by them very much!

BOWDEN'S CHRISTMAS SCOOTER

2009-12-26T15:43:00.001-08:00

Nanny got the three older kids various, age-appropriate conveyances for Christmas. Bowden and Lucy both confided in me from under their cozy covers at bedtime Christmas night that scooter and bike were their favorite presents. Way to go, Nanny! Bowden especially loves his scooter.

redskins trick play dec 21 2009

2009-12-23T00:29:00.001-08:00

Wow! Just embarassing and demoralizing!

IS THAT JON HOLSCLAW AT 1:02?

2009-12-23T00:11:00.000-08:00

Last night's nationally televised, Monday night matchup vs. the Giants was simply the worst football game I have ever watched. Why do the Redskins insist on breaking my heart!!! Why do they suck so bad? I will let Hitler give voice to my frustration!

FOR ALL OF YOU CAMP MARANATHA TYPES...

2009-12-22T15:40:00.000-08:00

The old tabernacle is coming down to make way for a new Worship Center. I know there are enough "Camp Maranatha Types" that check in here at the Bummer-Free Zone to make this a worthwhile post. It is kind of surreal for me to walk past and see the walls removed and the stage gutted from the old tabernacle. It's a worthwhile project though. The new worship center that is going to replace it will be a vast improvement.Check in at the camp's blog for regular progress updates.

EDITOR, JOSH TATE

2009-12-21T00:02:00.000-08:00

This book I'm reading the kids at bedtime ("Two Old Women" featured at right) is requiring a lot of editing on the fly. For the most part the story is fine- just a lot of rabbit snaring, structure building, berry gathering, moose shooting, struggling with the wilderness kind of stuff- all good- but two nights ago I had to edit my way through a two page discussion about cannibalising old people. There have been a couple of other "interesting" parts, but this was the longest and most disturbing which I found necessary to sidestep. I don't think my editing lent any improvement to the flow and meter of the story, but the innocence of their little minds was preserved. That's the most important thing, of course. I'm committed to finishing the book as a bedtime feature, and although I think it is a very interesting read, I really can't endorse it as a children's book. In all fairness though, I don't think that is how Velma Wallis envisioned it. So, my bad.

I do recommend it to all of you adult readers though. Mom, would you like me to send it along to you once we're done with it? I would need it back though eventually as it was a gift to Sarah.

2009-12-20T00:27:00.000-08:00

I think it is a total bummer that the blizzard slamming the east coast hit when it did. Just a few days earlier and kids all up and down the eastern seaboard would have missed some school and Christmas Break could have started early. I know the kids think the snow is cool anyway, but how much cooler would it have been a few days ago. My heart goes out to all of you D.C. school kids for the poor timing. I was once one of you. But buck up, grab your sled, and head on over to the sledding hill at Ridgecrest Elementary School.

"...Prince Georges County School District is closed..."
Possibly the most exciting combination of words ever uttered over the airwaves.

LET'S PLAY ILLUSTRATION- The game where I give you a scenario and you tell me what spiritual analogies can be drawn from it.

2009-12-19T23:11:00.000-08:00

No sooner had the war of 1812 concluded then the U.S. government announced it's intentions to build a massive fort where lake Champlain meets the Richelieu river. During the war, Britain had used the lake as a watery highway to transport men and supplies directly into the heart of the United States from their base of supply in Canada by way of the St Lawrence Sea way and Richelieu River. The lake had been similarly used by invading armies during the Revolutionary war and prior to that, the French and Indian War. Thus in approximately a 75 year span foreign European armies had thrice sailed past the spot where Lake Champlain meets the Richelieu River to invade the interior of America. So following the war of 1812, it was agreed that a massive citadel would be built to prevent future invasions via the lake Champlain corridor. The world's foremost experts in the field of military engineering were brought over from France as consultants on the project, and no expense was spared in the construction of the fort which, once completed, bristled with guns and commanded the narrow waterway between Rouses Point, NY and Alburg, VT. The fort was completed in 1816 for what was then the astronomical price of $200,000. (I know it sounds like chump change these days with some in the media apparently defining an annual salary of $200,000 as middle class!!! No kidding, I just heard Geraldo Rivera say it tonight. If that's middle class I am definitely poor. Dirt Poor!!! In the early 1800's $200,000 was big, newsworthy money though.)

In 1816, within weeks of the fort's completion, it was discovered by a team of surveyors that the fort, all of it, had been built entirely within Canada. Can you imagine? Heads must of rolled. Much to the consternation of the U.S. Army, Washington sent representatives to Ottawa like a bunch of Hosers to discuss what might be done aboot the fort. Pretty rough, eh? Canada kindly asked the U.S. Army to remove their personel and artillery from their soil. The fort languished for a considerable amount of time while the two governments bickered back and forth. Eventually Canada ceded the land surrounding the fort to the United States, but by then much of the cut stone had been removed by local farmers for use in private building projects and the remainder of the fort had either returned to nature or fallen into such a deplorable state that the ruins were deemed unusable and the site was cleared for the construction of a second fort. The original fort was never named, and today is remembered by historians as "Fort Blunder."

EPILOGUE: Fort Blunder's successor, Fort Montgomery (ruins photographed above), constructed in 1844, was never garrisoned or even armed with guns (by then the threat of invasion from Canada probably seemed as silly as it does to us today.) Today the site is for sale for ten-million dollars.

A LATE VETERAN'S DAY POST!

2009-12-19T07:00:00.000-08:00

I just had to clear this off the ol' desk before Christmas. Back around Veteran's day, this came home in Bowden's homework folder, and I purposed to mail it to my Brother, Job. That, however, failed to happen so I will post it here. On the front Bowden wrote "I remember the military," and on the back he wrote "My Uncle Job is in the Navy." The second sentence is accompanied by a lovely drawing of Uncle Job. So thanks for your service to the country, Uncle Job.

HOLIDAY MEMORIES #5

2009-12-14T16:35:00.000-08:00

Eleven pm- December 27, 2002. The lights atop my cruiser bounced reflectively off the surrounding snow berms as my cruiser came to a stop in front of an adddress on Ewell Court. A woman, in pajama bottoms and a tank top, stood barefoot in the slushy snow at the end of the driveway flagging me down.

"He's inside!" she yelled as I stepped from my cruiser and instinctively checked everything on my belt. Baton- check. Pepper Spray- check. Radio- check. Handcuffs-check. Spare Cuffs- check. Gloves- check. Gun- check.

I opened the back door of my cruiser and invited the woman to climb inside out of the snow. She apologized for being barefoot, but said that he came home drunk and started punching her and calling her a "slut," so she called 911 on her cell phone and just ran outside. Then she added, almost as an after thought, "My kids are still in there."

"Is he their Father?"

"No! Hell, no!"

"What exactly is your relationship with him?"

"We've been living together for a couple of weeks."

"What's his name?"

"Everybody calls him Benny."

"Does Benny have a last name?

She shrugged.

"Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?"

"Oh, nah, nothing like that."

I handed her a statement form and asked her to start writing everything down while I attempted to interview the man.

I walked across the front yard, wondering what was taking the second car so long to get there and knocked on the door. No answer.

"Sir, I'm going to have to kick in the door if you don't open up for me. I need to talk with you."

No answer.

Feeling dark, and grumbling angrily under my breath, I took a step backward and brought my boot down hard where the lock meets the jam. It splintered, and a second kick aimed at the same spot resulted in the door flying open. From behind me I heard the woman yell, "What the f*@# are you doing?"

I walked inside, and found the man, dressed like he had just come from the clubs, hurriedly walking down a hallway toward a rear door.

"Sir, stop. I need to talk with you."

He increased his pace, shuffling drunkenly toward the back door. In a flash of inspiration, I pretended to speak loudly into my radio, "Jason, get ready by the back door with the dog! He's coming out that way."

He stopped with one hand on the doorknob, wheels turning in the fuzziness of a beer addled mind. I called out to him in the stearnest voice I could muster, "You can deal with me or the dog, sir." It was a lie- bald faced- but I didn't care.

It worked. Believing the false impression I had given of multiple officers on scene and a dog taboot he was meek as a lamb. He obeyed all my commands, and soon I had him handcuffed and sitting Indian style on the floor of the living room. I stood over him with legs spread taking down the man's information on a pad of paper.

The kids, two little girls and an older boy, maybe 12, filed out from a back bedroom and plopped down on the couch. The girls expressions were blank, but the boy wore a look of keen enjoyment on his face. It reminded me of a picture I had once seen of a hunting dog grinning and wagging his tail high atop the back of a dead brown bear in Russia. The bear in cuffs. The boy grinning atop the couch. It was very similar.

That's when I took in the scene. A Christmas tree, which looked suspiciously like one that had gone missing from the front of the newly landscaped bank on Main Street, stood in a corner. There were a few paltry Christmas ornaments, but for the most part it was decorated with empty beer cans, (I'm not making that up.) and an inverted bottle of corona served as the tree-topper.

"D'ya get anything good for Christmas?" I asked the boy trying to make this surreal scene a little more normal. He shrugged. "Not really." "How 'bout you guys?" I asked the girls. They also shrugged and refused comment.

Later, as I drove the man down to the correctional facility I asked him how his Christmas was, and he said "Man, just shut the f@#* up! I'm serious! Just shut the f@#* up!"

Merry Christmas, St. Albans!

WHEREIN I SING THE PRAISES OF THE GEORGE FOREMAN GRILL...

2009-12-14T16:16:00.000-08:00

I'm not a bachelor, haven't been since 2001, but I still love the Foreman Grill. I busted it out after church yesterday to make some burgers, and it was an inspired decision. The buns were warmed to perfection, and after the patty was cooked (from both sides simultaneously), all that was left for me to do was slap the two together, add some cheese and condiments, and then sit down in front of some football. Soooo good! Mr. Foreman, wherever you are, thank you!

HANG IN THERE, JOE.

2009-12-14T15:40:00.000-08:00

2009-12-13T20:01:00.000-08:00

He leaned across the table, his voice inscrutable, his demeanor relaxed. He said, "Human beings can speak an average of 150 words per minute, but they can think about 400. Do you know what that means? Well, it means that while you're talking, I am listening to what you are saying, disecting it, arranging counter arguments, and forming my rebuttal. You talk too much. You would do well to keep your points shorter because as long you're talking I'm going to have the advantage. So, go on, keep on talking, kid. I'm listening."

GINGERBREAD PARTY!!!

2009-12-13T08:03:00.000-08:00

SUGAR!!! Last night, some of our good friends came over to help us decorate our gingerbread castle. Josh and Emily, of course, Marin Campbell, and Chris and Katie Bayer. They all did an awesome job. They're all very creative people. Of course, after eight o'clock or so we were all suffering from the fuzzy tooth and slipping dangerously close to a sugar coma.

Our friends from Beijing, Joel and Chris White came over for dinner but left just as the decorating began to catch a movie in town. It was fun having them over for dinner, although Joel's inspection of my Bobberball setup made me a little uncomfortable.

It was a lot of fun, as usual, with lots of laughing and admiring each others creativity.

Here are some pics of the finished product.

Thanks guys! It just wouldn't be Christmas without a Gingerbread Castle Party. Check out the Gingerbread Castle action from last year here.

2009 GINGERBREAD CASTLE

2009-12-13T07:58:00.001-08:00

Here's a short video tour of the castle.

2009-12-12T12:11:00.000-08:00

"I pray someone invents a time machine to go back and tell a 5-year-old me that being a Redskins fan will cause a lot of heartache and pain and maybe I should look elsewhere. I was 5. I'd have changed loyalty for a cookie. But now I'm stuck for the rest of my life. Been a tough year. Yeah. Tough year."

Matthew Berry of ESPN

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOB!!!

2009-12-12T08:07:00.000-08:00

"I love you, Uncle Job! I like when we play together." Lucy Tate

"Uncle Job, I hope that we can come to your house again. Happy birthday!!!" Bowden Tate

(I couldn't get a usable quote out of Jack.)

SNOW

2009-12-12T07:53:00.000-08:00

I'm a pro now at putting on chains. They convert a cowardly Astro Van into a much more courageous animal.

A PACKAGE FROM UNCLE JOHN, CAMPING OUT IN THE LIVING ROOM, DRINKING HOT COCOA, EATING POPCORN, AND WATCHING RUDOLPH

2009-12-12T07:36:00.000-08:00

Check out Jack trying to rip his way into the package. What a little savage!

The very first presents under the tree were from my brother, John, who lives in Augusta, GA. Jack was having a hard time not touching them. "Jack! DON'T TOUCH!!!"

Last year, you might remember, we also camped out in the living room (I enjoyed revisiting it). The kids love camping out in the living room. They have been looking forward to it all week.

This is, in my humble opinion, the very best Christmas movie out there. It's a classic. The kids loved it it almost as much as their sippy cups full of lukewarm cocoa and little plastic bowls of popcorn.

TV at bedtime! Wha?!?!?

THE WATER TREES OF JOGUES VALLEY CONTINUED... (PLANTING THE SEEDS OF REVOLUTION)

2009-12-11T18:41:00.001-08:00

With the start of the First World War in 1914, French military presence began to decline throughout the Taresh-Dafare as the army transferred forces and material support to areas deemed more critical to the outcome of the war. Most forces from the Taresh-Dafare, including the nearly 2000 French regulars stationed at Le Mur and another 800 from the coastal city of Abalta, were redeployed to take part in the 1914 invasion of the German protectorate of Togoland in West Africa.

The vast and sparsely populated Taresh-Dafare desert held no strategic importance to either side during the war, and thus by July of 1915 a paltry 20 French soldiers, was all that remained of France’s once formidable military presence in the colony. Those few soldiers that remained were housed in a barracks behind the Train Station at Le Mur.

Although, the Trans Taresh-Dafare railway and a few key cities such as le Mur, Abalta (western terminus of the railway), and Sihel (Eastern terminus of the railway) remained under direct French governance during the war years- limited resources and personnel forced the French to withdraw from the remainder of the Taresh-Dafare, which left an area of approximately two-million square miles, and populated by nearly 750,000 individuals, to their own devices.

Out of the power vacuum created by the withdrawal of the French Colonial government from 95% of the colony’s land area, during the period between 1914-1918 would emerge Henri Al-Jamil and the revolution of 1919.

GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS

2009-12-11T18:20:00.000-08:00

Recently, I was talking to a friend of mine who used to work in the movie biz, and has aspirations of returning to it at some point. I was telling him that, in my opinion, the best acted film I had ever watched was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Glengarry Glen Ross. Then I had to give the normal caveat, which I have to bring up every time I recommend the movie- "...but there is a lot profanity." The movie is a real gem, brilliantly written dialogue, which is perfectly executed by an all-star cast including the likes of Alec Baldwin, Kevin Spacey, Ed Harris, Jack Lemon, Al Pacino, and Alan Arkin. If you have never seen the movie and you like dark, introspective, dialogue-driven films this is a must see, but I must warn you, there is a lot of profanity. In fact on youtube I found a video which poses the question who utters the most obscenities in the film (warning: Not surprisingly, the youtube video contains a lot of profanity. In fact, almost nothing but.). For some reason, they omit Arkin's profanity laced contribution even though his profane utterances outnumber Spacey's (who is low man on the swearing totem pole). The award goes to Ed Harris who drops 67 obscenities, most of which include the f-bomb, but Alec Baldwin's profanity laced cameo as a motivational speaker from hell (aka Mitch and Murray, downtown) goes down in my memory as one of the most memorable moments in all of cinema. I just wish there wasn't so much swearing.

LAST YEAR'S TREE.

2009-12-04T23:11:00.000-08:00

These logs are from last year's Christmas tree. For the past several years I have de-limbed and sawed up the tree immediately after the holidays. Always, in the past, I have used the old Christmas tree for a special Christmas morning fire, but this year we are going to burn it as we decorate the new tree. No symbolism there- I just think it's awesome.

The old girl still wants to be part of the scene. She'll lend cheer and warmth to a room one last time.

HOLIDAY MEMORIES #4

2009-12-04T22:33:00.000-08:00

Is there anything more cheery
Than UPS at the curb
In the Month of December,
And kids crowding around
An awkwardly balanced box?

And what could be more cheery
Than wadded up newspaper scraps,
From out-of-state-newspapers,
Littering the floor,
Or counter, or table top,
As the depths of the box are explored?

Or the wonder of each discovery,
As the pile of beautiful, mysterious,
Brightly-colored packages
Find their way beneath the tree.

2009-12-04T22:27:00.000-08:00

The Infinite created numbers. The Almighty created muscles. The Omniscient created minds. The Omnipresent created place. The All-Righteous took the stink of my sin upon Himself.

He stoops. He condescends.

Shamefully, I puff up.

I am always fighting the urge, the sinful urge, to make God smaller than He is and to make myself bigger than I am. A sin-clouded mind must be weeded regularly by the hoe of God's word.

FREE

2009-12-04T21:21:00.000-08:00

Thank you, forested hillside.

P.E.T.A.

2009-12-03T06:48:00.000-08:00

I watched a clip this morning of a debate between a representative from the Catholic Church and a representative from P.E.T.A. (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) which has been bothering me ever since. At the crux of the showdown was a recent ad from PETA which featured a nude, curvacious woman carrying a large crucifix, which conveniently, and narrowly, covered her erogenous zones. The highlight of the debate for me was when the PETA representative claimed not to see anything wrong or offensive with the ad, which prompted the Catholic guy to chime in (and I paraphrase) "Why not do it with a star and crescent then?" obviously referencing symbols of Islam.

"What's offensive is the slaughter of blah, blah, blah..."

C'mon lady! Really?!?!

I thought that guy landed a knockout punch right there. PETA would never use Islamic Symbols in that way as they did the crucifix. Can you imagine? The response from the Muslim world to such an ad would make the reaction to that Danish cartoon look pretty mild. People would die- I have no doubt (PETA probably wouldn't be concerned about that though, anymore than exploiting women to advance their misguided views, after all they're just people.). At first I was mad at PETA for their insensitivity, double standard, and moral confusion, but then I realized that I was mostly disappointed and frustrated with Christendom. Here is a flagrant act of desecration, a wildly innapropriate thing to do, and this arouses no outrage. Apparently, there is no price to pay for PETA to run this ad, and that is on us. I'm not saying we should stage violent protests, or threaten to bomb their offices, or anything like that, but the fact they don't view alienating Christians through their ads as prohibitively adverse, and counter-productive to their goals, is chilling to me and a very sad commentary on the church's standing within western culture these days. Frankly, my heart burned with outrage when I saw the ad, but what can be done? I feel impotent. "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord."

VERY DICKENS

2009-12-02T14:08:00.000-08:00

So, over $1200 in recent (and unexpected) automotive repair costs have prompted the Western Tates to find some creative ways to cut costs on some common Holiday expenditures. I told Sarah I was going to scour the forest round about for a promising tree to haul indoors. After all we live squarely in the midst of a vast forest comprised primarily of evergreens of various sorts. Sarah gave me a look when I made the suggestion, which even I must confess was justified due to a fiasco I foisted upon her several years ago involving a scraggly cedar which she proved allergic too and which failed to bear the weight of our ornaments. You were right about that, honey- I concede. So I told her that I would take a picture of any promising trees I found and she could judge if they were worthy before I went to the effort of dragging it home. This was the best one I found- my first submission. Keep looking, honey? I know, kind of reminiscent of a Charlie Borwn Christmas, huh? Now, it wouldn't sell at a Christmas tree lot, but that's not the point. We know if we go this route that none of the wild trees round about will be able to hold a candle to those that have been farmed and carefully manicured. It's pretty bare, and scraggly even, but it is a fir. That's something right? At least it has the right pedigree. It has a relatively nice shape. I don't know, what do you think?

Well?

HOLIDAY MEMORIES #3

2009-12-02T13:52:00.000-08:00

ATTIC WINDOWS by Anne Porter

I live in a neighborhood
Of three-storey wooden houses
And in their highest gables
Right up under the eaves
Are small oddly-shaped windows
That I never notice
Till suddenly one evening
They fill up with light
And I know that my neighbor's children
Are home for the holidays

These are the windows
Of those attic bedrooms
With rough rafters
Rooms that are either
Too hot or too cold
They may contain a drum-set
Or an empty birdcage
Or a broken chair
Even a honeycomb the bees
Abandoned in the rafters
They're rooms needed only
When every child is home

Only on holidays
And maybe close to midnight
A light in a triangular
Or round or fan-shaped window
Will at once appear
Shining above the trees

It gives off a flash of wonder
Like a child's first word
Or a singer touching her highest
Most beautiful note of all.

MATTHEW 2:1-3

2009-12-02T12:14:00.000-08:00

"Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of herod the king, behold wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, "Where is he who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship him. When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him."

Question: I understand why Herod was troubled by the news that the King of the Jews had been born, after all he was the current King of the Jews, and by all accounts he was a murderous, paranoid dictator who was famous for killing his own wife and sons for real or imagined plots against his throne.

But why do you think all of Jerusalem was troubled with him? Any ideas? That line doesn't make any sense to me, but there it is. Hmmm...

MAYBE

2009-12-01T13:00:00.001-08:00

Last night, I joined millions of Americans in watching the Monday night football game between the New England Patriots and the New Orleans Saints. I expected it to be a much closer game than it was. In fact, it wasn’t really a competitive game at all. The Pats just couldn’t hang with those guys. The 2009 Saints were looking like the Patriots of old- what a juggernaut! My goodness, they looked sharp! For me the most impressive thing about the Saints last night was their defense, led by former Redskins Defensive Coordinator, Greg Williams. They had the normally unflappable crew from New England looking confused and frustrated for four straight quarters, which took the pressure off their formidable offense, which then proceeded to slice up New England like a Christmas ham. Mmmm….ham. New England didn’t have an answer on defense for either their run or pass attack, and New Orleans’ defense didn’t let Brady et al get a word in edgewise on offense either. Since the game I have heard three separate sports analysts on three separate programs talk about the remainder of the Saints season and speculate as to whether they can remain undefeated, and all three analysts identified this Sunday’s matchup against the Redskins as a “classic trap game,” and the best opportunity to stop them. They all used that exact same expression, “classic trap game,” which I had never heard before, and which got me wondering if all of these guys get together somewhere and agree on their talking points. …But I digress… With the exception of a matchup verses Dallas, the Saints schedule does look pretty easy, and, barring any unforeseen acts of God like, oh…I don’t know, a hurricane or something, I think they will definitely run the table. But those analysts got me thinking about this Sunday when the Saints come marching in to Washington. Could it be? Could the lowly Redskins be the ones to knock the tracks off this tank? Anything’s possible. Isn’t that what keeps Washington's fans tuning in and buying tickets year after year. The big, fat, pregnant “maybe” that lives in the hearts of all die-hard fans. The theory is that the Redskins are better than their record lets on (Subjective) and they have one of the best defenses in the league (Objective). So their exists the possibility of an over-confident Saints team, coming off an emotional and exhilarating win against the Patriots, and blinded by pride, looking past the Skins to more challenging matchups, being surprised by their stiff defense, and if you sprinkle in a few lucky series from Washington’s offense, the skins might just squeak out a narrow and unexpected upset. (Pardon me all you English teachers for the preceding run-on sentence. No, I will not go back and fix it.)

Anything’s possible, but I remember similar talk in 2007 as the Patriots were marching towards an undefeated season. Do you remember that? Remember the score? I won’t get my hopes up this Sunday…but then again, maybe...just maybe.

STILL SNOWING THIS MORNING- ANOTHER INCH OR SO ON THE GROUND.

2009-11-29T07:39:00.001-08:00

L'ORDRE DE BON TEMPS

2009-11-28T18:37:00.000-08:00

"The hunting, the outdoor life, guarded the colony's health better than all of the apothecary's drugs. Champlain well recognized the necessity of keeping the men too physically tired for quarrelsome moodiness. To that end he established the Order of Good Cheer, l'Ordre de bon temps. A chain ceremoniously conferred on the day's best hunter encouraged rivalry; a formal dinner, with proper toasts and allocutions, roused the ready gaiety of the Frenchmen at meat. Poutrincourt, an excellent musician, led the choruses."

"We had always twenty or thirty savages, men, women, girls, and boys, who beheld us doing our offices. Bread was given them gratis, as we do here to the poor. But as for the Sagamos Membertou and other Sagamos, when any came to us, they sat at table eating and drinking as we did; and we took pleasure in seeing them as contrariwise their absence was irksome unto us."

An e-mail I got today from my brother, Joel, got me thinking about the order of good cheer. I think some of you that check in on my blog from the frozen north need to revive l'Ordre de bon temps. I think about it a lot. This time of year I am always reminded of those days when the crushing weight of winter seemed to be bearing down on me, as the calendar kept marching on. The cold, the dark, and the lack of fresh green smells. This is why the ancients dragged evergreens into their homes during yule and hung a sprig of mistletoe over the door. Your home becomes an enclave of resistance trying to wait out winter's invasion. I remember too the sense of being confined, besieged by the frigid temps and the knee deep snow. Life became a gray loop- TV, eating, school, TV, eating, school- monotonously repetitive and unstimulating. I gained weight. Maybe I was weak, and you guys don't share my attitude toward winter, but I think l'ordre de bon temps would make an awesome gathering for a local church family. Get together for games, eat pineapple,Bobberball Tournaments, and for goodness sakes invite the savages- because their absence should be irksome to you. Christians living in right relationship to God and to one another are just as foreign in America today as a party of bearded, merry Frenchman on the banks of the Penobscot River in 17th century Maine.

IT HAS BEEN A COLD, SNOWY DAY HERE IN IDYLLWILD

2009-11-28T15:39:00.000-08:00

We woke up this morning to a dusting of snow, but it continued to snow off and on so that now we have a couple of inches. The kids loved it, and right from the start, with snotty noses pressed against the window panes they began demanding that we produce their snow suits and go with them outside. Nanny was very gracious and agreed to go out with them. They stopped their play shortly after 11:00 am to take in a free showing of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (again with Nanny) at the Rustic Theater in town.

I was off the hook because I had to go to work.

"It's fricking freezing in here Mr. Bigglesworth."

Tonight is the annual Christmas Tree lighting in the center of town. A pretty festive, exciting, winter wonderland, kind of day.

THANKSGIVING- SADLY THE ONLY TWO PICTURES I TOOK OF THE WHOLE THING.

2009-11-28T15:29:00.000-08:00

Just like the original feast, Sarah and I also invited some Wamponoags to share in the meal. Unlike the original Thanksgiving these little indians had absolutely nothing to do with providing the food or helping us survive the previous winter. It was a really good spread though, and I still lack a robust appetite- that's how full I got.

COMING SOON TO TOM PING'S BLOG...

2009-11-27T14:40:00.000-08:00

...he's gonna be staking out the bathroom at Fairway Foods for me to make a determination on what sorts of things we need to do to improve the place. If he returns from this dangerous mission, Tom will prepare a report for us by the end of this coming week.

2009-11-27T00:04:00.000-08:00

Miracle powder turns ordinary water into a delicious fruity drink!

HOLIDAY MEMORIES #2

2009-11-26T23:43:00.000-08:00

The house is too hot.
Oven-warmed.
My cheeks are flushed.
The sink is full of dishes.
My stomach sits heavy.
I feel fat and dull.
Outside,
The air is fresh,
Vast and cold.
The stars are clear.
I go for a walk,
And it all
Melts away
In the fresh
Beneath the moon.

A JOYOUS THANKSGIVING TO YOU AND YOURS

2009-11-26T07:28:00.000-08:00

OUR VAN IS BACK AND ITS RETURN WAS KIND OF LIKE THIS.

2009-11-26T07:15:00.001-08:00

"Lettin all the people know'
That I'm back to rock the show."

So true, Mark Morrison.

THE 10-SPEED GOT THE START TODAY IN PLACE OF THE INJURED ASTRO VAN.

2009-11-25T09:09:00.000-08:00

When reached for comment the 10-speed said, "Whizzzzzzzz-click-click-click-click!"

"THAT'S HOW IT SHOULD BE, YOU KNOW?" Don Moore

2009-11-24T21:05:00.000-08:00

The Astro Van has been officially listed as "DOUBTFUL" for the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday, but we had no plans to go anywhere anyway so our lack of depth at the vehicle position won't be hurting us any. The ol' girl just inexplicably gave up as we were making our way down the mountain this afternoon to run some errands in Hemet. The full array of "Oh Crap!" lights lit up the instrument panel as the engine sputtered to a stop. Luckily this occurred immediately before a turnout so I guided our faithful chariot to a gentle stop on the side of Rt. 74.

I got out, popped the hood, and looked for the big on/off switch. Did you know there is no big on/off switch on 2002 Chevy Astro Vans?

Sarah climbed a low hill behind the van in a vain effort to get some cell reception, but, even though we were stranded, we had the good fortune to break down on the 160 acres of land owned by Mr. Don Moore. Shortly after taking the above picture, his fully operable pickup truck rolled up to investigate what was wrong. He ended up offering to drive me down to a mechanic in Hemet while Sarah and the kids stayed with the van. I didn't like leaving Sarah and the kids all by themselves on the side of the highway, but we really didn't have a lot of options at that point.

I regret not taking a picture of my new friend, Don Moore, because he was a real stand up guy about the whole thing and also a really big help. On the way to the mechanic Don needed to stop to put some gas in his truck. So he pulled into a gas station and I decided that since I was back in civilization I would fish Sarah's cell phone out of my pocket and call our friends the Whites. This is the sort of situation when you discover who your closest friends are. There was never any question who we would call- the Whites. Kind of too bad for Josh and Emily, but they're stuck with us. I got a hold of Emily who, as luck would have it, was just about to head off the hill with Josh to meet a friend for dinner in Hemet. She graciously offered to come down in two vehicles and leave us with their fully operable Honda Pilot. That was awesome!!! (The three exclamation marks kind of awesome!!!) No sooner had I hung up the phone with Emily then I received a call from our friend, Randy Erlandson (pictured above). Randy, who we know from church, said that he had happened upon my family and was going to stay with them until I could get back. Whew! That was a relief. Just as I finished talking with Randy, Don, climbed back up into the truck and I gave him the update- My friends were bringing a vehicle down from Idyllwild for us and another friend, a former police officer who we know from church, was waiting with my wife and kids until I could get back to them. He looked at me incredulously, and asked "That all happened while I was pumping gas?" "Uh-huh." Then he added, "That's the way it should be, you know?" I was filled with a warm gratitude for our friends and for their testimony to that man. Being a part of the body of Christ is a wonderful thing.

In those first few moments of silence after you've coasted to the side of the road, but before you form an action plan, your mind is spinning, trying to get some traction, trying to settle on a viable plan. How are we going to make this okay with a broken down van? On a desolate stretch of road? Without cell reception? With four kids in the back? We didn't even have a stroller! I feel very bad for those lonely people who go through this sort of thing alone. Thank God for friends like the Whites and Randy! Thank God for good-samaritan strangers like Don Moore! Thank God for a wife like Sarah!

Here is our rescue party (lamentably sans Don Moore). From left to right, Emily White, Randy Erlandson, a CHP offiicer (let's call him Ponch) and Josh White.

Good bye old girl! Get well soon!

Really, all in all, it was a very positive night. We feel very blessed. It's God's van.

BEARDS OF IDYLLWILD- #2

2009-11-22T16:39:00.000-08:00

2009-11-21T20:42:00.000-08:00

Old Elliott lived in a small cottage at the end of the track on church property. In return for the small cottage, he maintained the stone walls about the church's cemetery. Elliott was a sturdy old man, with broad fingers and a close trimmed beard. He had been to Jerusalem with the crusades, and neatly tucked away on a crude shelf above the rafters of his home were carefully preserved seashells from the very shores of the holy land. The kids from ‘round about would mob him as he worked, begging for stories of palm trees, turbans and camels in a faraway and sun-drenched land. He always obliged, leaning heavily against a wall as he talked- his eyes alight as he mouthed the words. The men in town also plied him for stories, but those were of a different sort- Italian girls and battles- whores and blood spattered walls. He was honest. His tales didn’t require the spice of embellishment, but none could tell if his stories carried the tone of a confession or something else. Although the stories were told well, on that point he remained inscrutable. When the soul which had animated his sturdy frame bid farewell and he was laid in repose, surrounded by seashells, he lay as inscrutable as ever. The priest said of his servant, “We know his stories as does the God before whom we all stand naked, but God also knows the secret mystery of his heart."

2009-11-21T13:46:00.000-08:00

RUTLAND, VT
BURLINGTON, VT

BENSON, VT

THE RETURN TO ST ALBANS

2009-11-21T13:28:00.000-08:00

I wish I had taken more pictures, but it was nice to put the camera down and just kind of drive around taking in the sights. St Albans is where I worked as a police officer and where sarah and I called home for the first years of our marriage. We stopped in at our favorite eatery, Kartulas, for a couple of bagel sandwiches and iced tea.

I love their turkey ruben on a wheat bagel. Sooooooo good.

We also stopped by Hudak Farm, which is equal parts farm and artist colony. We used to live just down the street from hudak and it was very sentimental to go back there and snoop around a bit.

Sarah bought me some beets at Hudak, which she cooked up for me back at the house. I love me some beets and these were as good as any I have ever eaten (...and better than most.)

FROSTY MORNINGS AT THE LAKE

2009-11-21T13:23:00.000-08:00

UNRELATED SHOTS

2009-11-21T13:07:00.000-08:00

The owl at the top of the stairs was carved by, general contractor and skilled craftsman, Horst Gabower (sp?) and given to the family after he finished the houses overhaul. It sits atop the railing at the top of the stairs. I love it, and I admire Horst's carving skills. He's really amazing.

Thanks to the natural breakwater of Rock Dundar the shore beneath the house is mostly small smooth stones like this.

Freshwater mussels are still common in the shallows and along the shore. Their shells are an important commodity to the Widjiwats who call the region home.

Benson's tiny post office is located in the town's general store.

THE INCREDIBLE JOURNEY AT BEDTIME

2009-11-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

This was the book we read for most of the time we were in VT. The kids loved it. They also loved going to sleep on the sleeping porch. As a kid I enjoyed it too- laying awake listenting to the lake lapping against the rocky shore, the rumble of a train on the New York side, and the wind through the trees. Once I heard the "click-click" of a deer's hooves on the rocks down at the shore. I liked putting my kids to bed on the sleeping porch as it was very nostalgic for me.

SOME DALLAS WEEK PARENTING ADVICE

2009-11-20T22:06:00.001-08:00

QUESTION OF THE DAY

2009-11-20T21:46:00.000-08:00

If the United States had to give one the fifty states away, which state's departure from the union would have the least impact on the nation?

FELT BOARDS ARE SURPRISINGLY EXPENSIVE

2009-11-20T21:12:00.000-08:00

On average I spend approximately one hour a night putting my kids to bed, and I love it! It has evolved into a very structured time. First we read some picture books. Then the kids get into bed and I read a chapter or two from our chapter book. Then I turn out the lights and tell a story. Then I sing a few songs. Then I pray with them. It has become a real highlight of my day, but I want to be more purposeful and intentional about using that time to drop some truth on my kids. I see it morphing into more of a devotional time. I have become obsessed in recent months with incorporating a felt board into the nightly routine. Wouldn't that be awesome?!?! I have looked into it and some come with multiple scenes and precut figures to go with just about every Bible story. They're incredible! The only catch is they cost between $200-$300! I know!!! How can felt cost that much?

Deuteronomy 6:4-9

HOLIDAY MEMORIES #1

2009-11-20T20:06:00.000-08:00

Fair Haven Union High School
Friday before Christmas break
Thirty minutes to go

Light bounces off the snow
Streaming in through the library windows

Dust floats lazily around a girl
Bent over a magazine
Pen between her teeth
And twirling her hair

All sit patiently
Waiting for the bell
Doodling
Daydreaming
Fidgeting
Waiting for the bell

Buses idle in the parking lot
Exhaust curling away

I sit quietly
Content
Confident in the luxurious promise
Of the unstoppable clock
And the idling buses

Christmas break
Thirty minutes away

WITH ALL OF THE NEGATIVE PRESS SWIRLING AROUND SARAH PALIN THESE DAYS...

2009-11-18T14:02:00.001-08:00

...I would like to take this opportunity to express my full support for her and her ideals. I got your six, Sarah! I've decided that I am a Palin man. Here's hoping the pendulum of public opinion swings hard to the right in 2010 and continues on its arc toward a Palin win in 2012.

REDSKINS vs. DALLAS

2009-11-16T17:09:00.001-08:00

REDSKINS FUN BUNCH IN DALLAS

REDSKINS vs. COWBOYS again...

2009-11-16T17:07:00.001-08:00

IT'S DALLAS WEEK!!!

2009-11-15T19:56:00.000-08:00

How 'bout dem skins! Bronco busters!

FROM THE ARCHIVES- MARCH 7, 2007

2009-11-14T23:41:00.001-08:00

$$$$$$$

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE SAYING BUT THIS IS JUST AWESOME.

2009-11-14T23:00:00.001-08:00

Sometimes at night after my course work is done I will unwind by watching a few youtube videos before bed. I stumbled upon this one quite by accident one night and it has become one of my favorites. If any of you out there happen to speak Hindi I would love to know what this song is about. Whatever is going on I think it must be bummer-free.

BEARDS OF IDYLLWILD- #1

2009-11-14T19:28:00.000-08:00

BATHROOM GUERILLA

2009-11-13T21:24:00.001-08:00

After extensive research I have determined that the darkest and most depressing corner of my little town is, in fact, Fairway Market's public restroom. It smells like the bowel movement of a trash-fed bear. You dare not rest bare skin on any of its unwholesome surfaces, but indeed, yea, you must. Stepping inside is like passing through a portal into a Romanian orphanage. The crushing despair. The weeping! The howling! You must stop up your ears and callous your heart, or the place will claim you. It will swallow you up, and leave you as a stain of unknown origin upon the very toilet seat! Your imagination proffers answers to your troubling questions. The raging caucophony of sinister suggestions clamor like so many beady-eyed birds hungry for human flesh. Has reality bested imagination? Have the horrors of the most perverse mind found release within the confines of this fetid space? There is nothing to do but face the monster, indeed, face it and grin it down. I will not, cannot, abide such a place in my own town- the very place where I live! I am going to reclaim Fairway Market's public restroom. Will you join me?

I will periodically be bringing you updates on my clandestine efforts to improve the place.

For a guided tour of the bathroom click here.

There! Beyond the cheese, hang a right at the milk, through the double doors, through the stock room. Take a deep breath, hold it...

Yoda!
"Cheer this place up you must."
"Improve the odor you must."
"Leave me here you must. Yes! Go, and may the force be with you."

IS IT TIME FOR A NEW HELMET DESIGN?

2009-11-12T14:05:00.000-08:00

No other team in the NFL has introduced more helmet designs than the Washington Redskins. Below are some examples, but even this is not an exhaustive list;

Ken Carbone, a graphic designer who writes for Fast Company magazine, has deemed the Redskins' helmet design among the weakest in the NFL. (You Pecks may be interested to know that he was least impressed with the Patriot's design.) I am becoming somewhat habituated to seeing my beloved redskins near the bottom of categories, lists, and statistics. It's depressing. I have personally decided that his judgment is somewhat suspect as he gives the award for best helmet to the Bengals. I know!!! Seriously? The Bengals? You can check out his article here. What do you think? Is it time? Below is the hypothetical new helmet for the Skins-

My boy, Matt Terl, over at the Redskins official blog thinks it's "kinda awesome." I don't know. I guess I don't see the need for a change. The hypothetical new Patriots Helmet is simply atrocious, but his proposed design for the Buccaneers helmet looks like an improvement to me.

2009-11-12T09:14:00.000-08:00

OVERHEARD AT JURY DUTY

2009-11-12T08:11:00.001-08:00

"No! Bull----! How would you feel if that b---- sat across from you with a little smile on her face? So don't tell me to settle down! That b---- ruined my life! And you! You're b----a-- is supposed to be my best friend! You're supposed to be like a sister to me! f--- you!"

"Take that out of your mouth you nasty kid."

Whose responsibility is it to get her out of bed in the morning? Her own! I'm not going to do a mother-f------ thing!"

"Here come the cops. Took 'em long enough! F------ cops."

"Who takes care of my mother-f------ kids? Who?!? Who?!? Me- I'm the only one!"

"You money-hungry b----!"

"He had written a letter of apology to the kids and ultimately I think that's what got him convicted. I don't know. I guess a letter of apology can be like an admission of guilt or something like that."

"Go out and experience the world. You'll learn more out there than in here."

"My Dad got laid off from his job because Obama cut his program, but we're getting by alright."

"Things only become corny when they're so true that everyone says it. You really can be anything you want to be if you work hard enough."

"Who do you think the cutest guy in this jury room is?"

"Well...good for you. That's your first step towards adulthood."

"The same people who make the laws are breaking the laws."

"For me... the Bible is the ultimate source of truth."

"You're young and probably very naive. I used to be young and naive too so don't feel bad."

"I promise not to bite so long as you promise not to play with my leg."

MORE VACATION PICTURES!!! YEP, HERE ARE SOME WALKS I WENT ON.

2009-11-11T23:40:00.001-08:00

Can you hear the leaves? Swoosh-swish swoosh-swish swoosh-swish...

Sometimes I think Jack looks a little like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes.

Munger Brook.

C'mon Jack!

We found three baby snakes squished flat in the road, which fascinated Bowden and Lucy.

Jack carried around that little pumpkin for a couple of days. He even slept with it like a teddy bear. I just thought you might be wondering why he appears with that little pumpkin in so many vacation shots.

Hmmm...

2009-11-11T23:21:00.000-08:00

Shortly after posting below about the joys of hitting golf balls into the lake with my brothers I read this article about the hazards of golf ball litter and, frankly, I felt kind of bad. However, I am not the first person to enjoy hitting golf balls into a body of water only to find out later that this resulted in some unintended environmental consequences. No siree!

THERE ARE MORE THAN A FEW GOLF BALLS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE

2009-11-07T20:44:00.000-08:00

HA! ...AND YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE POSTING VACATION PICTURES. NAY! I HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN!!!

2009-11-07T14:30:00.000-08:00

SUNDAYS IN NORTH CHITTENDEN

2009-11-06T16:30:00.000-08:00