Flame Job

Last week the boys asked to paint their little John Deere wagon: "Can we do a flame job?" So to avert disaster, we helped them...

Vinyl II

Achtung. The following images are taken from record album covers on the premises of our home, whether we want to admit it or not.



Really?



People enjoying themselves while listening to Music That Will Never Die:



Now, a drastic jump to another genre.



But wait - I promised we would...

Vinyl

Seven or eight years ago, the in-laws drove from Michigan, loaded with old things from their basement they thought the Spouse might want. Included were two large plastic bins of vinyl record albums. LOTS of record albums.

For 30-plus years before the age of CDs, they collected quite a large and amusing variety of vinyl. Yesss...as Napoleon would say.



We shall assume these belonged to the Spouse's older sisters:





Ah. Barely Amanatall...



"Simma down. Simma down now!"

Unfortunately, there's no way to exhaust this subject in one post. More to come.

Track Record

Among the Spouse's collection of old things is a framed commendation from his track coach - Senior year, 1987. In the top photo, he's hiding to the left of the frame. below, he's #13.



I've decided that (1) the Spouse was terribly cute in high school, and (2) if we had been in school together, I would've been a lovesick freshman at the time and he wouldn't have glanced at me, and on top of that, (3) if he had known me then, we might not be married now.

The coach included a personal note, framed with the photos. Part of it goes like this:

You will be most remembered for your sensitivity about other people's feelings...your ability to be the first to grasp Mr. Herek's psychological "head games", making us yell "Heel-Toe" during your eight laps, and your amazing ability to avoid multiple dating disasters. Keep those qualities that you now have and for sure the future will treat you kindly.

We'll save the dating comment for last! The point is, the Spouse hasn't changed and I'm so glad. He respects others' feelings, he's disciplined and methodical (heel-toe!), and his talent at discerning the hidden motivations behind the behavior of others is a bit scary.



The Spouse is also a superb friend, and thence the coach's mistaken comment about dating disasters. He didn't understand why so many girls hung out trackside and talked to Karl, and very few (I didn't say none) of them got catty. They liked him because he was fun to be with and easy to talk to! As I said, nothing has changed.

And yes, people, I will make it easier for him to get kisses. Maybe as many as I would've wanted to give him if I'd been a freshman at Brighton High, 1987...

Fireworks

R: "Dad, when are we going to the fireworks stand?"

Me: "Aren't you going to share my idea with Dad?"

R & J: "NO!"

Me: "Well, my idea -"

R & J: "Noooooooooo!"

R: "Mom's idea was to take our money out into the driveway and set it on fire."

Spouse: "Ah."

Me: "We could roast weenies over it. We could say, 'bang!'"

Spouse: "I don't need fireworks, boys. I see them every time I kiss your mother."

Me: "See? That's even cheaper."

Spouse: "And harder to get."