So, You're a Touring Band Now...

I always said that if I had children I'd dress them in lederhosen. I guess Dad didn't believe me. When we walked in to his house, he looked at the kids, then at me. I was so proud of my kids, they carried their instruments so carefully. Dad watched them for a moment and smiled. "What's all this then?" he asked.

My five year old chimed in and said, "We're gonna wear these again on Halloween and go as 'The Sound of Music'."

"So," Dad said with a laughing nod of his head, "Should I invest in college savings funds or therapy for the children?"

"You know me, Dad." I said.

"Therapy it is," he answered.

(PS: I don't have kids. This is just a story.)

Hello Sheep!

On Saturday Daniel and I went to the Latah county fair. It was so much like going with my Daddy that I thought about him for a couple of days afterwards. Here's the story:

We went first through the flowers and plants. Then on to veggies and saw a gigantic squash that I'm glad isn't my responsibility. And a huge pumpkin that probably took a couple of people to move in the first place.

Then we went to see the bunnies! I love the bunnies! There was a HUGE bunny that Kylie told me to look for...at first I thought, well she must have been on crack (HA!) because I didn't see a big bunny. But Daniel did! This bunny was HUGE! I took a picture of it, but it didn't turn out because I'm not very good at taking photos. Sorry. There was this chocolate colored bunny that wanted to come home with me. I showed it to Daniel and he agreed, "His nose is really twitching! I think he does want to go home with you." But I had to leave the bunny there to go home with his actual owner.

Next we stopped in at the chickens. (When I told mom this she said, "Of course YOU had to see the chickens!" I grew up with chickens and I was always outside with them. It's amazing I didn't catch some kind of poultry disease!) I couldn't resist saying a classic Gir line from Invader Zim and leaned in to one banny hen and said, "Chicken! hehehehe! I'm gonna eat you!"

Next we went to see the sheep and pigs. There were these sheep with a sign that read, "We love to be scratched, especially under our chins. We don't like to have our horns touched." Daniel and I reached in and started scratching and this brown sheep ran up to Daniel and stuck out her chin! It was so cute! They really do like having their chins scratched. The pigs were loud and stinky.

And the cows were boring and stinky.

But not the goats! There were some pygmy goats--the kind my Daddy always wanted to get--and they were THE BEST! I love these little guys. Daniel said that he wanted to reach in and pick up the baby one...I was right there with him. It was hard to resist.

So we saw what we wanted to and I said "NO" to the $4.00 Elephant Ear even though I really love them. Because I was too cheap.

It was very much like going to the fair with my Daddy. Instead, it was my Daniel. I miss my Daddy very, very much. I told Daniel all kinds of stories about my Dad after the visit to the fair. Thanks for listening, Mouse! :D!

All that's left to say about the Latah county fair is another line by Gir: "*gasp!* It's got chicken legs!!"

Daddy, this is Daniel.

Have you ever smelled the Earth? I’m sure you have. Smell the summer and the Earth after an evening rain. Crisp and cool. What about autumn when apples have fallen and are sweetly rotting into the ground, spreading their seeds for the next batch of trees? Let it turn colder and smell the morning after the snow has coated the trees. Cold. Clean. The way the fire smells when you throw an orange peel into its already orange flames. Now smell the Earth as spring comes. The Earth coming alive again…soil bringing life back to all it’s cared for when the snow covered it all; the seeds sprouting, the trees pushing out their leaves…every scent is new—despite the fact that you’ve smelled it every spring since you’ve been born.

Daniel, did you know you smell like spring? I wonder how long this scent will remind me of you.

Daddy, did you know that when the quaking aspen leaves shudder and applaud in the breeze they always whisper your love to me.

I wish you could meet, I think you two would have been friends. Some day you’ll meet and maybe you’ll understand the Earth a little better after getting to know the other. I know I do.

My Dad forbade me to marry a "Stupid Yankee"

“Ever wonder why some of us melt over tall, dark and handsome while others get weak in the knees for a Hercules-built blond? In a recent study, researchers found that women tend to be drawn to men with a genetic makeup similar to that of their own family.” (Source: Biology Letters Journal)

My Dad never yelled at us. I can’t remember him raising his voice ever. He never spanked us. He was a very gentle man. He was kind and good. But the thing I loved most about him was his innocence.

He loved trees. He planted them all over the yard. He loved to look at them and listen to them. Smell them. And hear the birds chirping inside of them.

I’ll never forget our Yorkshire Terrier, Max, who loved Dad so much. He was the family dog, right? No, he was Dad’s dog. As soon as Dad walked into the door, Max followed him everywhere he went. I was young and I’d pick up Max and take him with me…but as soon as I’d put him down, he’d find Dad again. Only a truly good man can have that kind of love for…and from…a tiny dog.

Dad found joy in simple things. One day he picked the perfect tomato off of his own vine in the backyard. The tomato sat proudly on the kitchen table for a while and Dad showed it to everyone. He ate it for lunch, slicing it into pieces with his pocket knife and sprinkling a bit of salt of each piece.

One day my brother asked Dad what his idea of Heaven was. Dad thought for a second and said, “A small house with a yard. A cow, a pig, a goat and some chickens. And your mother inside cooking something for me.” A beautiful, uncomplicated simplicity: that is Heaven.

Dad liked to sit on the porch in the evenings, listen to the world and feel the warmth of the sun as it set. Once I was sitting next to him…we didn’t talk a lot. We’d just sit. The birds were chirping in the quaking aspens and the tiny brown and black chickadees would hop down into the bird bath in the shade. He turned to me, holding out his hand with his index finger extended and said, “I wish a little bird would come sit on my finger and be my friend.” That sentence perfectly sums up everything I love about my Dad.

I miss him. I miss him very much.

They say that we’re attracted to those that remind us of our family. So does this help you see why I love you?