Ned Erickson

Let Him Eat Cake

2012-02-13T06:49:00.000-08:00

For his birthday, Dave Dave asked for one thing: BLUE CAKE.

While it's true that you don't always get what you want...sometimes...you do.

Happy Birthday, Dave Dave. I love you...may your big 3 be the best year yet.

Lord of the Flies - the Girl Version

2012-02-02T10:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, Hannah and Anna Rose are standing next to a deer carcass. They found it this weekend while we were hike through the woods. They insisted that I take their picture with it.

Look at their faces:

Have you ever seen prouder, happier children?

...they're holding dead deer!!!!!!!

(btw. before you turn me into child protective services, they're holding it with a stick)

The Destiny of the Republic - a review

2012-01-30T10:56:00.000-08:00

Whether it is her choice of topic or her style of writing, Candice Millard is my new favorite biographer. I read her first and second offerings this past year. Her first, The River of Doubt ranks near Lansing's Endurance, the standard bearer for adventure epics. It recounts the fateful journey of Theodore Roosevelt, his son Kermit, the heroic Candido Rondon and company down the previously uncharted Amazon River called the "River of Doubt."

Somehow, I really don't know how, her publisher found me. He asked if I would mind receiving an advance copy. How cool! I thought (and a little spooky). I half thought it was a scam. I didn't really believe it would come...until it did.

And so, I was given a galley copy of her second book, The Destiny of the Republic. It details the events surrounding the death of James Garfield, a president I knew nothing more than the fact that he had been assassinated during his first year in office.

I now can say that his death is one of the most tragic events in American history. Garfield was an amazing man, humble and selfless, who certainly had the character and potential to become one of the greatest leaders this country has ever produced.

It was more than a pleasure to learn this "forgotten" history. Thank you, Ms. Millard for bringing it to our attention.

If You Got It Flaunt It

2012-01-21T11:22:00.000-08:00

Direct quote from my beautiful daughter earlier today: "Daddy, you're so handsome. You're booty sticks way out."

So it's apparent my broadside has not escaped my daughter's attention. And you know what, I'm ok with that. My booty is large, and it's going to stay that way. If the 5,000 miles I've run the last four years haven't managed to shave off the inches, then nothing's gonna...nothing I'm willing to try. And I'm ok with that.

It certainly helps that despite my bubble-shaped posterior I can still hold my own on the pitch, the rock, and the trail with kids half my age - and that despite possessing a wide load I was able to score a smoking hot bride - and all things considered I have ended up with a pretty stinking great life in spite of this big old butt.

Then again, maybe I have it all wrong. What if my booty is what got me where I am? In other words, what if my booty is like my camel hump - my fuel pack that gives me that extra boost when I need it? What if my booty was what got Lia to first notice me? What if it's what makes me handsome? What if that is what A-Ro was saying?

And you know what? Either way, I'm ok with that. Because as Ulla Inga sings: when you got it, flaunt it.

The Run Up Has Begun

2012-01-12T17:01:00.000-08:00

It's just been announced: Mr. Davidson 2012 will be held Labor Day Weekend at Davidson College. So if you happen to find yourself in the mood to watch some balding overachievers dook it out on the hallowed ground in front of Chambers, come on. The more fans the more hilarity.

Speaking of dook...here is a short email exchange between Will Baldwin, large animal vet extraordinaire ("Turn and moo, cow") and me.

Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2012 11:05:06
Subject: Re: Mr. Davidson 2007 Results

The mere thought of Laundry Bag Survival made me almost dookie in my britches.

Ned Erickson

http://www.nederickson.blogspot.com/

"Genuine faith is hazardous to your health." Michael Yaconelli

On Jan 11, 2012, at 2:03 PM, Will Baldwin wrote:
Subject: Re: Mr. Davidson 2007 Results

It makes me do something entirely different in my pants.

Needless to say, it's going to be an incredible display.
And who knows, now that I actually have a son named David, maybe it will be my year.

Running in the New Year

2012-01-04T12:30:00.000-08:00

For the last few years, Murf and I have been trying to convince all our friends to participate with us in the annual Tanglewood New Year's "Running of the Lights" race.

It's a great time. Somewhat surreal as I do not stay up normally past midnight, nor do I normally run at said time.

Regardless, it's pretty stinking amazing to run through a million or so Christmas lights.

That being said, you would think that all our friends would want to run with us. But alas, as in years past, no one did. Not true. There were over 1,000 people who did. They just weren't any of the ones we invited (except Kurt Telford. Way to go Kurt!)

Honorably mention goes to my lovely wife, Leela, who has run two out of three years. No honor to Murf's wife who chickened out for no good reason (my opinion). I'm still simmering, Al. There, I said it.

Anyway, last year I ran fast enough to get a prize (one of the two or three fleece blankets I accumulated over the year). I didn't want/need another fleece blanket, nor did I want to run until I wanted to throw up, nor did I want to wake up the next morning feeling like I threw up, so this year I was determined to keep the pace down.

I took some precautions. Put in a long run earlier that day with my new awesome neighbors, the Sabios. Put down a couple brews during the pre-party. Dressed in costume. Gray sweats, Rocky-style, with the headband and wig you see on Santa above. And finally, started about halfway back with Leela and Murf.

But man, when that count down counted down, I couldn't help it. The first mile was rough going - weaving through walking jogging revelers. I finally hit my stride at the turn around. And I don't want to toot too loud on my horn, but I kicked it into high gear.

There was something about running through twinkling lights in my Rocky getup with my guido wig bouncing around that got me going.

Turns out, I finished 2nd in my age group. Not too bad if I do say so myself. I woke up the next morning with some old man soreness. But all in all, I was glad I did it.

And to top it off, no fleece blanket this year!

Breaking Hearts

2011-12-27T18:32:00.000-08:00

I was picking A-Ro and Dave Dave up from childcare at the Y. Dave Dave did his usual "Daddy Came Back" chant. A-Ro was lounging on the sack chairs...with a boy!

"Daddy, Daddy!" she shouted when she finally looked up from the book she and the boy were "reading."

"That's the boy from the park yesterday. His name's Gabriel!"

Lia had taken the kids to the park yesterday afternoon. I heard about this boy. The first thing A-Ro told me when I got home was about this boy. All through dinner I heard about this boy. And here he was, Gabriel, smiling at me. No, he was smiling at my little girl.

So A-Ro and Dave Dave run out the door and as I go to follow them Gabriel comes up to me. He looks at me with these sweet, puppy eyes and asks, "Can I kiss Anna Rose?"

My eyebrows furrow. My hands go to fists. I say, "Not so fast, buddy." I glare. My lip curls. "Try me again in 16 years."

...five years old and already breaking hearts...why should I be surprised? She stole mine a long time ago.

Christmas Comes Early Once Again

2011-12-20T05:18:00.000-08:00

It all starts with the visit with Santa at the Mall. We shed no tears this year - that's not entirely true - I shed one thinking that we might be past the years of shedding them on Santa's lap.

Dave Dave asked for a reward for having to sit on Santa's lap. He got it.

Anna Rose received "bins" for Christmas. We opened these several weeks ago in preparation for the things she might receive on Christmas.

The weekend before Christmas mommy and children watched Pocahontas on the couch. Correction: Anna Rose watched Pocahontas, Dave Dave watched me, Lia watched David.

On Tuesday, December 20th we celebrated Christmas. This makes 10 out of 12 Christmases for Lia and I celebrating Christmas early. It took three years of asking, but Anna Rose finally got her parrot pillow pet.

Dave Dave insisted on putting his present on by himself.

Success?

My parents bought us a board game called What's in Ned's Head. You stick your hand in Ned's ear or nose and pull out the things that are inside his head like his "pea brain" and his "mouse from his science experiment" and his "pet spider" and "stinky cheese" and "space alien".

Amazing. How did they know this stuff?

Merry Christmas everyone. The 25th will be here soon.

Christmas Moon

2011-12-10T12:16:00.000-08:00

How Have You Bin?

2011-12-07T11:48:00.000-08:00

Bin ("Bean") is my new brother and my parents' foreign exchange student. I had the fun of meeting him for the first time over Thanksgiving.

Lia and I were a little bit nervous about having him. My parents warned me that he has eaten them out of house and home. They have also had difficulty motivating him to get off the couch. Plus, the week before Bin had a "hot noodle accident" that landed him in the hospital (long story).

So anyway, Lia and I were anxious. Our children, of course, were not. Anna Rose had a friend she could play Wii with. Dave Dave had someone he could show his cars to. Bin also took easily to them.

Our anxieties were quickly quelled. He really was a great house guest. And it was Thanksgiving so there was plenty of food.

The highlight for me, though, was watching Anna Rose. I was washing the dishes one afternoon when I heard from the other room: "Bin, do you believe in God?" Bin answered: "No." Anna Rose then asked: "Well, what DO you believe in?" Bin answered: "Games." "GAMES!?!" said Anna Rose. "Why would you believe in Games?" Bin didn't have an answer for that.

I peeked in at this point. Anna Rose had walked over to the Nativity she had made out of Legos earlier that week. She grabbed Jesus from the manger and carried it back to Bin. "So you don't believe in Jesus?" she asked. "I don't know him," said Bin.

Anna Rose couldn't believe that piece of information. So off she ran. A few seconds later, she handed Bin a Bible. She opened to the picture of Baby Jesus. "I can't read yet, so you will have to read it to us," said Anna Rose. Bin tried to explain that he was not the best at reading either, but Anna Rose would not be deterred.

And so that is the reason Bin is reading the Jesus story to my children on our couch.

The Last Hair-ray

2011-12-04T12:46:00.000-08:00

No shave November ended a day early - November 30th I had a meeting - the kind of meeting that wouldn't appreciate the finer things like "The Snake" - which I dubbed the beard-do above.

But it ended well - with the 3rd Annual Showing of Christmas Vacation. This year, Lia and I didn't dress as any character in particular. I simply chose a sweater representative of the period.

"The Snake" is timeless.

Update on my Face

2011-11-25T04:58:00.001-08:00

Scott and I pushed through the halfway point of No Shave November. This was taken on the Ides of November after celebrating Thanksgiving with the College Life Troupe.

I cleaned up the beard a little for Jed and Cecilie Macosko's 10 year Anniversary Party. What a great night. It was like Wedding Reception rewind. The love power point (except with photos of the kids). Dancing without the Chris Brown song. The bouquet toss but everyone was included (Victoria Secret gift card...for both the women AND the men! Ha!). Jed singing his engagement song "Cecilie Macosko Do You Like that Name?" A classic.

It also gave me the excuse to wear the old tuxedo. Then, yesterday, Lia and I were doing ourown Turkey Trot around the neighborhood when she turns to me and says, "You know Ned, you actually look kind of handsome with a beard." What?!? This coming from the lady who has gone on kissing strike because of my scruff! Well, all that's to say, even with the surprise compliment, the beard will likely be gone by the end of next week. It was fun. And itchy. And it's made me realize that I dribble when I eat soup...

Fun Little Blurb from Summit's Enewsletter

2011-11-21T10:46:00.000-08:00

Fifth Graders Learn Firsthand about Writing

Summit Parent and Author Ned Erickson is writing a children's book and recruited Fifth Graders for feedback. He talked to students this week about the project and their involvement. “This has been a great opportunity for the children to interact with a published author and be able to see the writing process in an authentic situation,” said Teresa Tsipis, Fifth Grade writing teacher.

Clay in Review

2011-11-16T10:58:00.000-08:00

Today, I met once again with the delightful 5th Graders at Summit School. And the reviews are in!

Below are a few examples. They also did some marvelous illustrations for me. Here are a few of my favorites (I didn't know they'd bleed through, sorry) :

"But there was one thing he would always do: whistle. Clay whistled everyday. It made the nice days nicer, and the dreary ones tolerable, so there was never a reason not to. Over time, Clay had acquired quite the repertoire. He could cheerily, cheerily, cherrio, chee like the robin; and wheet, whittle, wheet, wheet like the house finch; and sip, sip, sittle-diddle-dip-pip, sawheet like a sparrow. He could even sing the tur-a-lee, chir, chir-a-lee of the bluebird."

“But the clay gets a purpose,” Clay explained, not entirely sure what he was saying.

“Purpose! What do you need a purpose for?” cawed Craw. Then, turning to his fellows: “Do you hear that, chaps? This clay wants purpose.”

The murder laughed again.

“Let me level with you,” Crick crowed, “purpose is overrated.”

“You get a purpose, all the sudden you have responsibility,” agreed Craw.

“Right now, you have no responsibilities. You are free as a bird.” Crick flapped his wings. “The minute you get a purpose, you’re not free anymore.”

“Who in their right mind would trade freedom for purpose?” asked Craw.

“I don’t know. Maybe this clay is crazy,” cawed Crick.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” cackled Craw.

“Crazy as a canary,” cackled Crick. “Come all this way just to get thrown in the fire.”

“Brave the cold just to get himself burned!”

“You’re lying!” shouted Clay.

“Not this one,” she said, guarding her package with her hands.

As it turned out, the object was not a figurine. It was a box. A small one, meant for jewelry or something like that. The knob was made to look like a bouquet of four roses – purple red, pink, and white. Each stem twisted around each other before traveling to the four corners of the lid, then down the side to where they curled into spirals that became the box’s feet.

Clay changed his mind. This was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Clay grasped but there was nothing to grasp. What made matters worse, when the branch broke, rain-shrapnel cascaded in a flurry and sheered off his right foot! He lost balance. His left foot slipped. Clay dangled by a hand. A wet one. It was losing its grip.

Bricks screamed, which did not help.

Desperately, Clay lunged for another handhold, but no vine was within reach. He could stretch his arm to one, but then it would be too thin and weak to do any good. Clay’s foot skated as if the branches were made of ice. He slipped to fingertips.

He made the mistake of looking down again.

He gulped.

just as he was about to retreat from the window, he caught sight of the teacup the lady of the house had gathered in her hands. It rose to her chin, the steamy aroma spreading her lips in a soothing grin. Her fingertips went pink. Delight filled her eyes; Clay saw it just before she closed them.

Now that was a purpose, Clay thought to himself.

The fact was Clay couldn’t stop staring at her. She, the teacup, was so simple yet so beautiful. She was milk white with a rim like a halo of gold. And she was thin, much thinner than Clay ever dared become; though there was no doubt she was stronger than Clay had ever been.

Are you all right? the teacup asked.

“Huh?” said Clay, lost in the slender curve of her handle.

You don’t look so well.
“Oh,” he said, noticing that the fall had transformed his body into a wad. Embarrassed, Clay hastily reformed into an even mini-er mini version of himself.

GREAT JOB!

I wish I had time and space to show you more. Anyway, here are some reviews. Most were favorable. Here's one that wasn't:

"The book couldn't keep me until the end. Things just kept happening and it got boring. I thought the ending could be changed where Clay got turned into dust. The reformed then turned his arm into an AK47 and got revenge on the people who hit him with hammers." Alex

Fortunately, most were like Ashley's:

"This is one of my favorite books I have ever read!" Ashley

Here are a few more:

"I think that you should keep the end of the story, that is my favorite part."

"It was a good book. My favorite character was the potter. I liked how you said his eyes glistened like thunder and lightning or something like that. In my opinion, the best scene was when the potter found Clay."

"I liked the book Clay because it explains all of the little details. You held my attention throughout the whole book because every character had its own personality. It was very interesting. I liked the part when Clay met Ned because it was funny and sad at the same time."

Thanks everyone. I'll keep all your input in mind as we plunge into editing. And thank you Summit for providing me the opportunity to have target audience participation!

Halloween

2011-11-08T10:55:00.000-08:00

Yes, another wonderful Halloween has come and past. This year we went theme-less. We've never gone theme actually.

Theme, however, this year seemed to be en vogue. The Andersons, around the corner, went Wizard of Oz. The Macoskos went Smurf. The Logsdons went Star Wars.

We went...well, Dave Dave went Dinosaur.

A-Ro went Pirate Princess.

Lia went as a Chinese Masseuse. Somehow she avoided getting pictured. I went as a Wedding Singer (ironically, I happened to lose my voice earlier that day). Fun was had by all.

On a sad personal note, this year marked a turning point in the Erickson household. For the first time, our children are hording their candy. Looks like from here on out, Lia and I are going empty handed...It was good while it lasted.

No Shave November

2011-11-03T10:30:00.000-07:00

Scott Siegler, one of my new favorite peeps, introduced me to one of his November traditions: NO SHAVE NOVEMBER. According to him, everyone in Connecticut does it.

Who knew?

I mean, I knew of course that Connecticut people are brilliant and burly, but I didn't know that they adopted a month to put it on display. Then again, why wouldn't you?

And so, on behalf of Scott and the rest of the people of Connecticut:

Men and women, boys and girls, you are all cordially invited to participate with me, Scott, Connecticut, and friends in NO SHAVE NOVEMBER.

...it's for the kids.

Wild Horses

2011-10-31T11:27:00.001-07:00

Grayson Highlands State Park is famous for its wild ponies. But last week, when we went there, all we found were tame ones.

Actually...I take that back...

One ate our bag!

40

2011-10-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

The number 40 has always symbolized endurance, struggle, and adversity.

Take Noah and the animals: they endured 40 days and nights of rain.

Or the Jews: they had to wander in the wilderness for 40 years.

Or Jesus: he fasted 40 days before kicking into mission mode.

There must be something about the number...

Take me in high school: ever trying to gulp down (and hold down) "the 40"

Or the 40 mile hike in the Smokies we do every couple years or so.

And now there's a new one: Two weeks ago, I ran in the Triple Lakes Race - a 40 mile endurance race around three lakes (believe it or not) in Greensboro.

Speaking of believing it or not - somehow I got fourth place! A total surprise to me. My watch had malfunctioned and had added a solid hour to my time. Plus, the last fifteen miles I didn't see a soul. I spent a good chunk of it wondering if I made a wrong turn (which would have been the end of me, because I had no clue where I was and I didn't have any gas left in the tank!). Needless to say, it was quite the adventure.

Which leaves me with this question: what 40 challenge will be next?

You-Taw!

2011-10-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

Here are some shots from our recent vacation to Utah. Utah paid me nothing to tell you this: but y'all need to check this part of the country out for yourselves.

Pioneer Park: St George, Utah, after eating Olive Garden to go while watching the sunset.

Left to right: Lia, wearing a monarch butterfly necklace made by A-Ro; Ned, wearing my new cool green shirt; Paul, sporting one of his fifty triathlon shirts; and Stef, who is simply, purely, all around sporty.

The next morning on the trail. Zion Park: sixteen miles down river. Here we go!

Either the walls got higher, or we got smaller.

Feeling small.

This is one of the many obstacles we had to navigate. Fortunately, this one required some off river scrambling instead of a waterfall plunge! Although we did experience one casualty here: Paul's dry suit (aka Star Trek Costume) disappeared.

Ned and Lia and our poop bags, post coffee and oatmeal...guess who had to carry them...

Miraculously, a hiker found Paul's Star Trek Costume! Have you ever seen a happier Spock?

Taken at Big Springs. Did I say this already? The trail IS the river. I think I may have forgotten to share this minor detail to Paul and Stef as well!

That little ant right there is Lia! By the way, this picture only gets half the wall!

We journeyed east to Page, AZ the next day to explore the Antelope Canyons. Here's Stef. For a second, we thought we lost her!

It's even more spectacular in person.

We only took 1,000 photos.

Paul and Stef jumped in our photo! Just kidding.

I saw this high point and took off. I looked over my shoulder to discover no one following me.

Can anyone say, Christmas Card 2011?

This photo was taken at Houston's Family Restaurant. Hands down, our best meal of the week.

It was raining everywhere in Southern Utah except in Bryce Canyon, where it was snowing. Guess where we decided to go?

Photographers would tell you that the first snow of the year at Bryce is one of the best photo ops there is. From this amateur's point of you, I'd have to say I agree.

We were on the Queens Garden Loop when this man coming from the other directions says: "There's a must stop ahead. You can't not do it."

He was right.

Around the bend there were hundreds of tiny rock piles. Whoever started this, thanks! What fun! Let me say: If it's been awhile since you played with rocks, do so soon. It's more fun than it sounds.

I told the team that the guidebook called this place Kissers Arch. Lia fell for it!

We bought the hats at the lodge.

Cliffside, Paul and Stef didn't trust me with the camera.

Our last day of hiking took us back to Zion where we journeyed up to Observation Point. Quite a view, I must say.

Paul only had to take 10 pictures to get one of me actually in the air! Ha!

Same day, different world: Las Vegas, the Venetian, Tao restaurant, a floating fifty foot Buddha behind us. Our waiter said that last week a couple got in a fight and the lady threw her wedding ring into the fountain underneath the Buddha. The next day she came back looking for it. According to the waiter, the ring was never found. All this to say, even after all the adventure, our marriages (and our friendship) managed to evade a similar fate.

What a trip! Looking forward to the next one...

Grunt

2011-10-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, A-Ro and I were on our way back from the bagel store when she asked: "Daddy, what's a grunt?"

I had to think a moment on that one, before saying: "Well, it's a noise you make when you exert a lot of energy."

"No," she said, "a grunt, like in Charlotte's Web."

"Oh," I said, understanding. "I think the word is runt."

"Wilbur was a grunt," she said.

"I guess you could say that. Pigs do grunt."

"You know, Daddy, you're like a grunt."

I nodded as I looked back at her through the rearview mirror. "I guess I am." She had a point, after all. Her Daddy is not the largest of men.

"You know what they do to grunt's?" she asked.

"What's that, Sweetie?" I answered.

"They kill them."

Hot Momma

2011-10-10T04:56:00.000-07:00

She's so cool.

Congratulations for kicking some serious triathlon tooshie.

Redeemer Middle School Rocks

2011-09-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

Recently, I was given the opportunity to hang out with the Redeemer School's middle schoolers for the weekend. In addition to playing in the band (that's JT on the bass and Jennifer Wolfe Steele on the mic) I was asked to speak. I figured what better audience to experiment with some Clay themes.

Is there any time more formative than the early teens?

I spent the first night talking about the things that shaped me when I was a teenager. You can probably guess how that turned out.

The next day we talked about what happens when we let the one who made us shape us.

The first time I looked at this picture, I was like, 'Shoot, I've got zero attention going on,' until I realized that this picture was taken after I had given them clay and told them to pay attention to it. Ha!

It turned out to be a very transformational experience. At least for the speaker. Thank you Redeemer for asking me!

Blue Ridge Relay

2011-09-17T11:02:00.000-07:00

I want to shake the hand of the man or woman who came up with this. A 208 mile relay race through the mountains, through day and night, from Grayson Highlands to Asheville.

My friend Jorge (running below) only had to ask me once. That's Emily above enjoying a pristine segment along the North Fork of the New River.

Emily and I were the only non-BB&T members of the team. Below, that's Oscar, Hernan (with four arms), Matt, and Jorge as we cheered on the Van #1 runners.

Each team member ran three legs. I totaled 21 miles for my part. We had just enough time to recover, so in Van 2 we ran each segment to the point of vomit. Now, that's team spirit.

After finishing my 7.5 mile middle of the night run. I chugged two waters, ate a bagel and Snickers bar, changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and then Jorge asked me to run his 3.2 mile segment with him. I said, No. Then, the excitement of the event overtook me and I tore off my pajamas, threw on my shoes, and ran after him without a vest or reflectors. I went 1.5 miles before the bagel, Snickers, and water coagulated into a giant mass in my stomach and gave me the worst stomach cramp in the history of cramps. I had to send Jorge on, but I couldn't stop or I'd be left behind. So I gutted (literally) out the last 1.7. It was awesome.

This Van is an example of the Team Spirit we were competing against. Representing a bank, we kept our van clean. (But inside, we all wanted to do something to it.)

In Asheville, we finished the last leg together, drank a beer and ate a burger to celebrate. We ended up 37th of 100something teams. Pretty good. Our Van walked down 59 runners over the course of the race (not that we were counting.)

I want to personally thank the Best Bank in Town for the opportunity to tag along. Thank you also to Lia, who let me go on the adventure. Maybe she can join the team next year!

Gangstas in the House

2011-09-07T12:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the fam went on a walk to find puddles. On the way, A-Ro and Dave Dave decided to make things more interesting by making guns out of sticks so they could shoot stuff.

...this was just about the time the cop car drove by...

...which inspired these words to come forth out of my daughter's mouth:

"BAM! BAM! I just shooted the police!"

Dave Dave smiled, pointing his stick-gun at me: "Bam! Bam! Daddy."

It was then I officially tossed that dream of my children one day winning the Nobel Peace Prize out the window.

Fifth Graders Rock

2011-09-01T10:26:00.001-07:00

Karen, also known as El Presidente of New Growth Press, had this great idea of getting kids to read Clay. So over the last couple weeks, I've had some families take on the task. Thanks Trollingers, Gayles, and Kaufmann's.

After some encouraging reviews, I decided to contact Summit School. I called Bekah Sidden in the Guidance Office to see what interest she might muster up. I was hoping for a few courageous fifth graders. An hour later, Teresa Tsipis, one of the fifth grade teachers, gets in touch with me.

Next thing I know the entire fifth grade is going to not only read Clay, but illustrate it, give me written feedback, and even work with some clay of their own! They're practically building an entire unit around the book!

Last Thursday, I had the chance to speak to them. I had the zoom lens with me, so I only was able to fit half the room.

It was awesome. Bekah told me before the assembly that Teresa (top right) was a little worried that I was too humble and soft spoken for fifth graders. I had to laugh. Never have I been given such flattery.

Humble, soft spoken. I wish. If you can't be excited around fifth graders, who can you be excited around?

If anyone is in Ned's wheelhouse, it's fifth graders. Fifth graders and old ladies. They love me. Everyone else, not so much.

I just hope these fifth graders love Clay. If anything, I know I'll at least get honest feedback!

Here's to you Summit! Thanks! You rock!

First Day of Kindergarten

2011-08-28T04:54:00.001-07:00

Look out world. Here comes A-Ro.

Because She is that Awesome

2011-08-14T14:03:00.000-07:00

Last week was Lia's birthday week. She gets a week now because she is that awesome. And just now as I downloaded the pictures, I realized, not to my credit, that we actually pulled off doing all five of Lia's five favorite things, which are (in no particular order):

(1) Vineyard Visiting (and all that goes with it)

(2) Hiking

(3) Anything that has to do with horses

(4) Anything that has to do with water

(5a) And Gardening

(5b) Also known as enjoying the fruit of ones labor.

Happy Birthday, Leela. Looking forward to next August. Who knows? Maybe we'll give you the whole month!

Chapter 1

2011-08-08T04:55:00.000-07:00

I just sent my first novel, Clay, to the publisher! The experience of finishing it has been somewhat of a mixture of these two pictures:

Like climbing a mountain...and like scratching your head, wondering where your horse ran off to.

I can't wait for you and your children and your parents and and their parents and your friends and your friend's children and your (you get the idea) to read it. In fact, I'm pasting Chapter 1 below! Check it out. (It's short)

As the months go by, I'll share more about both the story and the story behind the story. I'll also keep you updated on the editing/design/marketing phases as they come. Right now, it is in the reading phase. So please join the pros and let me know what you think!

CLAY

Sitting by the Fire

Will you help me, please? You see, you have something I lost. At least I hope you have it because it is a terrible thing to lose. I have tried to get mine back for years with little success. What is it? you ask. Well, belief, of course. I can’t seem to find mine. It’s why this story has been so difficult for me to write – because, as you will see, the story is unbelievable.

It’s a story that my grandpa told me when I was perhaps the age you are now. We were sitting by the fire in the room he called the den. I remember it vividly: the embers in the fireplace beating like a heart, their sleepy hiss, the orange glow dim in Grandpa’s cloudy eyes as he finished the story about the night he should have died but didn’t.

It was clear he believed every word. He said that when you experience something of that magnitude you find yourself capable of many things. Perhaps that is why I didn’t believe it right away. Not that my experience changes the story any. It’s just that at some point you may begin to wonder if this is all made up. I did. When I heard it, I wondered. I still find it hard to believe even with the proof right here in my hand. That’s why I need your help. I want to believe again.

But now that I’m finally writing the story down, I realize how foolish it has been to let my doubts get in the way. After all, though the outcome affects me, the story is not really mine.

It’s not really Grandpa’s for that matter. It’s Clay’s – the story of what happened when he became made. He’s the hero in Grandpa’s story. That is the unbelievable part. You see, Clay was clay, and to some extent he was made already. He was made of clay, which is really just a nice way of saying mud, which isn’t really a nice thing to call anybody (even when it’s accurate). Anyhow, Clay was the name Grandpa chose to call him. Grandpa always did give the benefit of the doubt. Not that a name matters that much. The important thing to know about Clay is that he was real. He was as alive as you or me. He could twist, jump, stretch, roll, walk, talk and even whistle!

Now, I can see that some of you already are thinking to yourself, how can a piece of clay be alive? That’s impossible! Well, that’s exactly what I thought, too. And that’s exactly why I need your help. Because Clay was real to Grandpa, and if you are going to appreciate this story, Clay is going to have to be real to you, too. I’m saying this to myself as much as to anyone. So what do you say? Will you believe with me?

Nemo

2011-07-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

It was the day before Anna Rose's birthday, and I was minding my own business - really, I was on my way to work with work on my mind - when I saw a rock moving across Robinhood Rd. I swerved out of the way, quickly realizing that it wasn't a moving rock but a turtle.

And before I had time to process a thought, I found that I had turned around, driven back, pulled over, and was now walking toward it. (Had I processed I probably would not have done it.)

But it wasn't the time to think. It was the eve to Anna Rose's birthday. And, of course, we had plenty of presents for her: a game for her Leapster, some Barbie dolls, a make-your-own jewelry set. I knew hermit crabs were on the way...you see, what Anna Rose really wanted were pets.

Her list included a hamster, a guinea pig, a puppy, a fish family, and a hermit crab family. We had said no to them all...all except the hermit crab family. Dear Lucy, our beloved babysitter, insisted on getting them.

Now here I was carrying a turtle back to the car. I didn't have anything to put it in, so I emptied a box of wet wipes and put it in there. You should have heard the poor turtle scraping for dear life. Getting home, I made a little pen for the little guy in the back yard, texted Lia to "call me", and went to work.

When Lia and I talked, she was all about the turtle.

So we gave it to Anna Rose the next day. She was a little afraid at first (so was the turtle). As it turned out, the turtle was not the Box Turtle I had thought it was. It was an Eastern Painted Turtle, which meant that we were off to the pet store.

We learned while we were there that owning a wild turtle is illegal in North Carolina. "All right, I'll put it back," I said, "but, I'm just interested, what do wild turtles eat?" Turns out, turtle food, which you can conveniently buy at the pet store!

So one aquarium later we were off to build our illegal turtle a new home.

We named him/her/it Nemo because he/she/it has a gimpy front foot. (I saved it, really...oh, how I have prayed these last three weeks that God would continue to save it now that it is in an aquarium in Anna Rose's room.)

I'm happy to report that Nemo is doing well. I teared up the morning A-Ro and I watched him/her/it eat for the first time. He/she/it doesn't even swim away when I enter the room. Not any more.

In the end, I am very pleased with breaking the law. I have actually been planning my next misdemeanor. In the meantime, may this post serve as the official announcement of our newest member of the family: Nemo.

As for the hermit crabs, they and I have not really bonded. Climbee and Hide-ee (can you guess which does which?) are cool and all, but they're food smells like foot fungus and discarded fish heads.

Fat Skeleton Suit

2011-07-21T10:53:00.001-07:00

Here is a talk I gave last week called "Fat Skeleton Suit." For all of you who remember Slim Goodbody from Saturday morning cartoons - this one is for you.

Let me know what you think.

http://hopepresws.com/components/com_sermonspeaker/media/sermons/2011/20110717.mp3

Happy Birthday Anna Rose

2011-07-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Anna Rose, you are now 5 years old. I am 36 years old. So I had 31 years of living before you were born. But you should know, of all the years that I have lived, I have loved the ones with you the most. I love you, Rosie Girl. Happy Birthday.

Here you are on the day you were born!

This is how I looked at you when you were three days old.

You had the wildest hair when you were one.

That was the summer I learned that the best way to watch fireworks was through your eyes.

We learned by the time you were two that you liked to dress up!

I wonder who you learned that from?

You have had five pool parties! This picture is from your third.

You ate a piece of cake and then ate some of mine.

When you were about to turn four, I started to worry that you were beginning to grow up a little too fast.

But you were kind enough to set my mind at ease.

You dazzle me with your beauty, little girl.

I do not have to wonder who you got that from.

I love you, Anna Rose. We all do. Happy Birthday. May this year be the best one yet.

Biggest Laugh This Summer

2011-07-06T12:08:00.001-07:00

In general, I do not believe it is good to laugh at the expense of someone else. Particularly, I believe it is inappropriate to laugh at a person who is suffering. However, I did both a few weeks ago. And now I would like to share the laugh with you. Thank you Aunt Melanie for the permission ; )

She was the person I laughed at. Aunt Mel is one of the most wonderful people on the planet. She has also needed knee surgery for years. Well, finally, in June, she did it. (She is recovering well, I'm happy to report.)

I wrote her to see how she was getting along and ask her if there might be anything I could do to help. Here is the conversation via facebook.

Ned Ericksonposted toMelanie Koewing
Thinking about you Mel. Let me know if you need anything.

Thnxs Mel I hp yohd flle btter snnoon

My true self - an aha moment from Ned in Winston-Salem

2011-06-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

Here is the actual video...

Oh Boy

2011-06-23T10:47:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you have seen this ad campaign by Mutual of Omaha called "Aha Moment." Basically, this group of young, hip filmmakers travel around the country in an Airstream gathering stories from people.

They made a stop in Winston-Salem a couple weeks ago. And I'm not entirely sure how they found me (they would not reveal their secrets), but they asked me if I would be willing to share my story. So I did. It was a bit nerve-wracking. I'd never been interviewed in front of a camera before. But I managed to get through it. Here is the link. Please "like it." I'm not sure what "likes" get me, but I guess it is better than being not "liked."

http://ahamoment.com/moments/1909

Oh, and check out my friends Janice and Jake. Here is their link!

http://ahamoment.com/moments/1917

Squirmie

2011-06-08T16:28:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, Anna Rose adopted a caterpillar that she found crossing the driveway. I went online to discover it was an Eastern Tent Caterpillar, not the highest of animal species on my list, but hey, I figured it was better in a jar in my house than eating one of my trees outside.

She named it Squirmie. Never was a caterpillar more loved. She slept with it next to her bed. She took it to show and tell. She fed it fresh leaves on the days that I remembered to collect some. That thing thrived for a solid 9 days. Day 10, Squirmie began to sleep a lot. I prayed hard that its immobility was moving it toward the pupa stage. But alas, my prayers did not manage to change the inevitable tide.

So I went to Facebook.

Ned Erickson
I'm afraid Anna Rose's pet caterpillar, Squirmie, might have kicked the bucket. What should I do?
May 2 at 3:57pm · ·
Zach Albertson catch a moth. and tell her squirmie got some wings.
May 2 at 4:02pm ·
Amy Jenkins Rzepka Tell her it turned into a butterfly and you had to let it go. Just hope she doesn't realize the actual gestation period...
May 2 at 4:19pm ·
Desi Roberts Anders Buy her a puppy! She'll forget about the caterpillar. :)
May 2 at 4:35pm · · 1 person
Caroline Barritt Chambers Same thing happened over here but when Annabelle investigated, she believed it was sleeping and said, "it sure is hard to hear him snoring."
May 2 at 5:12pm ·
Doug Wittenberg Buy her some gummy worms...they taste way better.
May 2 at 5:21pm ·
Jennifer Kelly Williams Explain the death process=never too young to learn.
May 2 at 5:38pm ·
Andrew Diakos I got a bunch of replacements in my front lawn...Lidia likes to eat them so you better come quick....
May 2 at 7:22pm ·
Dudley Bell Don't count him out yet!!! We made that fatal mistake with our first hermit crab. It was AFTER flushing the "carcass" that we learned they actually go dormant for days at a time...but are still living. Still trying to get over that one at our house.
May 2 at 7:25pm · · 1 person
Elise Clark A sad part of having pets, but a great oppurtunity to teach even at a young age!
May 2 at 8:57pm ·
Ned Erickson Thank you all for your advice. I tried the straight up and tell me Paula Abdul strategy and A-Ro explained to me something very similar to Dr. Bell's above. We decided to build her a new home outside and wish her the best. I gave her a hug and told her that I doubt any caterpillar has ever been more loved. Then said, "Hey let's eat a brownie."
May 2 at 10:11pm · · 1 person
Dawne Sarchet
Perfect, Ned. Truth is always loving when you tell it in a loving way. Your Mom, Aunt Mel and I had major funerals with her at the organ with the window wide open. How do you think tht I ever learned to be a minister! Complete with scri...See More
May 3 at 6:19am · · 1 person
Renee Erickson I do remember, Dawney. He was irreplaceable, just like Tessa.
May 3 at 10:45pm ·
Dawne Sarchet Absolutely! So real and so protective and so lovingly ours. I still remember that poor truck driver. But I never got over Jacky.
May 5 at 3:36pm ·

The responses were varied.

I finally decided that I would go with the "Just tell her the truth" method. So I sat her down on the front porch step that evening with Squirmie resting peacefully in its jar. I said, "Anna Rose, I think Squirmie is dead." She said, "No, she's not. She's just sleeping." I said, "Why don't we let her sleep in that tree over there." She agreed.

Walking back, I told her, "Anna Rose, I don't think another caterpillar was ever more loved. What do you say we eat a brownie?"

There was a short reprieve. Squirmie continued to decompose until finally a bird took it out of its misery.

A week later, Lia had the great idea of ordering one of those butterfly kits. Three days later we had three new caterpillars living in our house. Painted ladies. From what I understand, they are much more rugged and sturdy enough to withstand children.

Ten days in, we had three beautiful Chrysalises (sp?). In another week or so, two hatched. She named them Honeysuckle and Wildface. The next day, Cocoonie, came out of its chrysalis. We had three honest to goodness butterflies!

I think it was my fault that Cocoonie died.

I think I was a little too generous with the sugar water. The poor guy's wing got stuck in it and broke off. He walked around in circles for a day before falling in a sugar puddle and dying of gluttony, perhaps?

I was bent on saving the other two. So far, I was 0-2.

I think Anna Rose saw it coming. She said, "I'm going to keep them until the die" before I could even begin my "If you love something, set it free" speech.

Oh boy. This was going to be hard.

Over the course of the next week, I continued to encourage Anna Rose about letting Wildface and Honeysuckle go. Finally, I convinced her to set Wildface free. Lia had actually planted a butterfly garden in the backyard (I didn't know there was such a thing), so we had the perfect place. I took a bubble blower stick and coaxed Wildface on the end of it. Then I placed him on a flower.

It let Anna Rose touch him.

Then off it flew. I was so proud of her.

She set Honeysuckle free tonight with Lia. It flew way up into the sky above the trees then came back down and landed on Anna Rose's finger before flying away. No lie.

Mission accomplished.

The Difference a Week Can Make

2011-06-05T12:17:00.000-07:00

Opening a pool is hard work. You never know what you are going to get when you peel off the pool cover for the first time. This is what I got last Sunday.

What makes the hard work worse is you get no sympathy. Anna Rose gives me impatience and no sympathy. Lia isn't much better. I'm like, You open the pool and see how it feels. She's like, I'll just call the pool guys. I'm like, I'd rather do it.

Then, I'm with some buddies on Monday, and I'm complaining about the back breaking brushing I've been doing, and they're like Awe Man you got it so hard. But really what they're saying is Dude, you have a pool.

And I'm like I know I can't complain. At the end of it all I get to swim. But inside I'm going, I need a little love here.

I know I know, it ain't coming. I have no right to complain.

By Tuesday, it looked like this. I know, pretty good, eh. Pools don't like like this by themselves.

This is Anna Rose and Lia the following Sunday. I've yet to get the Hey, Daddy, thanks for all your hard work. I'm not holding my breath either.

And then there's you. You're reading this going, Ned, stop griping. You have a pool!

My point exactly. No love I tell you. No love.

Oh, and by the way. Pool's open. You are all invited!

Nedbery

2011-05-27T07:39:00.000-07:00

I have a pretty cool announcement that I don't know how many of you already know, but now that I am about to blog about it, I guess you could say it is officially official.

I have signed with New Growth Press to publish my second book/first novel! It's called Clay. I think the title will stick. The title of my first didn't. Over the next couple months I'll be keeping you posted on the progress. I'll probably also post excerpts for you. I love feedback!

- especially while I'm hacking away at it in hopes to make it Newbery caliber. I confess I dream to win this award. I confess I have little hope in succeeding.

However, I was able to entice the world famous and close friend Elizabeth Northcutt Williams to take a picture of me for the jacket sleeve. Not bad if I do say so myself.

I am also harnessing the karma of past winners by reading through as many as I can this summer. Last week, I began this undertaking with The Twenty-One Balloons by William Pene du Bois (1948), The Giver by Lois Lowry (1994), and Gay Neck, the Story of a Pigeon by Dhan Gopal Mukerji (1928).

I recommend them all - the Balloons and the Giver, with more gusto. However, the Pigeon book (it is seriously about a pigeon) did have a few meaningful moments for me. I've quoted them below for you (in case Gay Neck never makes it around to your reading list).

Most portions have to do with courage and fear. (You can tell what I'm needing right now.) Here you go:

"You must know, O Jewel amongst hunters, that no animal, nor any man, is attacked and killed by an enemy until the latter succeeds in frightening him. I have seen even rabbits escape hounds and foxes when they kept themselves free of fear. Fear clouds one's wits and paralyses one's nerve. He who allows himself to be frightened lets himself be killed." p. 55

"Here let it be inscribed in no equivocal language that almost all our troubles come from fear, worry and hate. If any man catches one of the three, the other two are added unto it." p 128

"Infinite courage is in all life. Each being that lives and breathes is a resevoir of infinite courage." p 172

"May the north wind bring healing unto you,
May the south wind bring healing unto you,
May the winds of the east and west pour healing into you.
Fear flees from you,
Hate flees from you,
And suspicion flees from you.
Courage like a rushing tide gallops through you;
Peace possesses your entire being,
And serenity and strength have become your two wings.
In your eyes shines courage;
Power and prowess dwell in your heart!
You are healed,
You are healed,
You are healed!
Peace, peace, peace." p 175-6

PLEASE SEND ME YOUR FAVORITE NEWBERY RECOMMENDATIONS!

I will also receive your prayers!

Thanks.

Not Fade Away...a Dave Dave Original

2011-05-17T05:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know if this is funny because I'm Dave Dave's daddy, or because it's funny.

Kentucky Derby 2011

2011-05-11T04:55:00.000-07:00

Another Kentucky Derby has come and gone. This year, as in years past, we mixed mojitos, fixed Texas caviar, and watched the greatest two minutes in sports. Lia tried this new artichoke dip, that was new, but the big difference this year was that we decided to invite some of Lia's coworkers and their young families to join in the festivities.

Mary, Ellen, and Meredith work with Lia. Their husbands were out front playing cornhole. Out there, the competition was tight, but as it turned out, not photo worthy.

Ashley is not a newbie to the Kentucky Derby mojitos. She and Blake are mainstays, in fact. But she got in not because we love her, but because she also works with Lia. Blake and I were also playing cornhole. We were also not photo worthy.

The kids had a giggle-fest in the backyard. Anna Rose instigated it by making "underwear soup". I'm not sure I can explain. But it does probably explain why Anna Rose's underwear is on the ground instead of on her booty. Someone must have considered this photo worthy.

And now, for the actual race. It was won by longshot Animal Kingdom. The horse was chosen by none other than my son David. He is here celebrating a well-deserved victory. He'll be buying my lottery tickets for now on.

Love and Hate

2011-05-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

Lia loves Spring. She has opened the windows and filled our house with flowers. She spends her free time with her garden. She spends her free time at night, reading about gardening. She spends her morning thinking about what she can do in her garden later that day. You get the picture. The woman loves growing things.

I wouldn't say I hate Spring necessarily, but I have a hard time loving it. I've discovered I have a hard time loving something I'm allergic to. Like cats. I don't like them so it's a good thing I'm allergic to them (if I wasn't, we'd own one, I'm sure). So allergies are not all bad. I'm getting off track.

I'll stay off track. Here are a few photos from the Lillie's Friends race last week:

That's me, celebrating my third place finish! Brian Amrich is in the background eating a well-deserved donut. He finished first in the unofficial yet prestigious stroller division. Below is a better picture of him, Erin and Emerson (the winning rider).

The thing is Spring is beautiful and it makes my eyes water, not to mention that it also makes me sneeze and itch all over and feel sick and want to die. Besides that, Spring is great.

(my kidsz have turned into thugz)

Lia asked me two days ago when I was going to finish landscaping around our play set. I almost cried. But I set right to work. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Oh," I said, "I couldn't think of a reason to put it off."

We went to a Delane and Elyse Clark's farm to feed goats. Dave Dave liked the horses better than the goats.

I've been thinking about love, lately. It's Spring after all. I sort of have this idea that you show someone how much you love them by doing things that you hate to do. So I've been doing a lot of yard work lately.

This morning I had a little epiphany. I realized that love doesn't always have to be like that. When Anna Rose wants to show me love she picks a flower from out in the yard and says, "Here, dad, you can have it." "Thanks," I say. Inside I'm saying, "If she makes me smell this thing, I'm going to sneeze." But also inside I'm saying, "I'm glad my little girl loves me." So anyway, back to the epiphany. Here it is: I realized that sometimes I should allow myself to love Lia the way I want to love her.

Easter at the Ericksons. Anna Rose got a Zsu Zsu pet in her Easter basket because she loves them.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it's important to figure out (try to figure out) what it is that Lia really wants. I think that's great. And I also think it is important to show her that I love her by slaving away in the yard. But I think, in addition to these, I should give myself permission to buy her this dress that I know she will look drop dead gorgeous in, even though she told me she didn't really think it was her style.

Because love needs to just come out of you sometimes. I need to stop worrying about how it's received. Sometimes you just have to do it because you feel it.

Cheesiest picture of all time? Yay or Nay?

Same goes for Spring. I am going to love it because Lia loves it. And I'm going to work in the yard because I know Lia will appreciate it. But I'm also going to take my Claritin and secretly hope for summer to come and not feel bad about it.

My Kind of Mustache

2011-05-01T05:25:00.000-07:00

Lia refuses to let me grow a mustache, and for good reason: they look bad on my face. I mean bad. Not bad meaning good, but bad meaning bad.

She says they scratch her face. She also says that they erase the little handsome-ness I do possess and replace it with a major overdose of shady-ness. Two decent reasons, which is why I do not grow a mustache even though I am so attracted to the idea of them. I mean, come on, mustaches are cool...at least that's my idea of the people who can wear them well.

The truth is I wear them poorly. Even my wife looks better in one than me. After this picture, she told me to get this one off my face immediately.

So I did.

Family Camp Part 2 - Fred Gimble

2011-04-24T04:47:00.001-07:00

Are we making trouble? NO! Are we blowing bubbles? NO! Are we sizable dimples? NO! Are we a facial pimple? NO! We are Fred Gimble, stunt men extraordinaire! Hollywood knows us and we know Hollywood!

Perhaps you have seen us before without knowing it. Here are a few photos from some of our favorite scenes.

This one is my brother Fred, sitting in for Gene Kelly in one of the most iconic scenes in film history. Gene had a cold that day, so my brother friend had to be the one to get wet!

This one is from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was a tough shot for me. The glare was amazing, and I had to make sure I took that fake bullet just right with all those people in the background. That's actually my brother Fred in the burka stage left.

This is the stinky cheese scene from Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Fred's finger smelled for a month after this shot. When you get into this business, no one ever tells you this stuff. But it's not that glorious sometimes.

This is me, Fred, in the movie Princess Bride. You see Robin Wright's face right here? She's not even acting. We were just having a fight. I had stiffed her earlier with the bill from breakfast, and she was ticked. I said, listen Robin, you get paid like 10,000 times more than me, the least you can do is pay for my Grand Slam. You know what that comment got me? Pushed down a hill!

One of our favorite men in the business is George Lucas. The guy is a genius. Here is Fred on the set of Stars Wars, Episode II: the Attack of the Clones getting ready for one of the many fight scenes we have done over the years.

This is a rather painful shot for me to watch. Here I was after sliding down on my web. I got rope burns on my thighs, all the blood in my body has rushed to the top of my afro, and I'm about to finally get a kiss from Kirsten Dunst, and Tobey Maguire comes out from his pimped out trailer after his two hour long pre-shot massage and takes all the glory. I'll never forgive the guy. Never!

To give you a sense of how seriously my brother takes his job, he actually gave himself rabies to prepare for this scene.

In the movie, Woody hangs here for something like three seconds. But for those three seconds of film, I had to hold this position three hours!

Needless to say, it's not easy assuming all the risks and getting none of the notoriety.

But hey, that's show business.

Family Camp Part 1 - Hex Caliber

2011-04-23T16:29:00.000-07:00

This is Abby, Deanne and Niles. We were at Family Camp last weekend. Abby and Deanne were campers. Niles and his brother Austin were air band rockers. When you put them together they became Hex Caliber. And they have one thing to say: "Let's Rock!"

The last three years they've won the WABC (Weaverville Air Band Championship), but try as they may they have failed to win the attention or the affection of the most beautiful and talented lady rockers in the universe - Foxy Loxy.

To make matters worse, their Big Mama keeps telling them to cut it out with their silly shenanigans.

Just when they thought they had come up with the song to win Foxy Loxy's hearts, Big Mama takes their instruments away!

Niles is at his wits end, but Austin helps him see the light.

Real instruments or not, the show must go on!

To Hex Caliber's surprise, Foxy Loxy loves them the way they are!

Lois and Austin share a kiss to last a lifetime. Roxy tells Austin he rocks.

Big Mama cries because she is so happy. All her life she has been trying to raise her boys to see the light, and they finally do!

Key the dance party, Andy Barnhill aka DJ Beardhouse!

Disney Part 3 - "His Eyes"

2011-04-07T16:35:00.001-07:00

Does this count as a first kiss?

I think so!

Getting ready to go on Safari in the Animal Kingdom.

Look Daddy, there's a giraffe outside our room!

Call me Mr. T. (Tea Cup, that is).

Check out my fat ride.

It's a small world.

Daddy, can we build a house like the Swiss Family Robinson's in our backyard?

Sorry Cinderella, I'm taken. And these bacon and eggs rock!

Should I tell him that this is not actually Marlin and that those pebbles he is feeding him aren't actually fish food? Nah.

There's something about a kid in a onesie.

Hopefully the monorail is as fun as waiting for it.

I love how he still is holding his car.

I think the boy likes ribs.

Yes, the boy most definitely likes ribs.

Disney - Part 2 "Through Her Eyes"

2011-04-03T10:27:00.000-07:00

That's how I wanted to see Disney this time. I had seen it as a child, seen it as an adult. I guess I could have seen it this time as a parent, and perhaps that's what I did. Because this time I wanted to see Disney through Anna Roses' eyes. Here's what I mean.

Pocahontas

The Tea Cups

The Merry Go Round

It's a Small World After All

Thunder Mountain Railroad

The Princess Breakfast

Bambi's Butterfly Garden

The Monorail

Honey I Shrunk the Playground

Hoop Dee Do Revue

Good Night Sleep Tight

Disney - Part 1

2011-03-28T11:33:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how many parts I'm going to write, but I'm sure Disney will get more than one. It deserves more than one.

As Sue put it, the place always exceeds expectations. And she should know - she's been there 11 times!

Well the trip certainly exceeded mine. Admittedly I came into it with rather low ones. Not on Disney's part, but on my families. Taking a 2 year old and a 4 year old and mashing them into a visually, emotionally, sensory overloading overcrowded situation and the results could be anything but stellar. I was wrong. My children handled it superbly.

One thing that I find funny - on the build up to the trip, it would come up in conversation what we were doing, and every time, at the word Disney, folks would begin handing out advice like it was going out of style. It was similar to the experience we had when Anna Rose was first born. Strangers would come up to you and start telling you how to parent your child. It was the same thing with Disney. Everybody has an opinion on how to make the trip great.

The thing is there are things you need to know. Like fast passes. And sunscreen. And bringing the Bob even though it is incredibly frustrating to take on the bus. And that if your child is afraid of things jumping out at her, then the Snow White ride, no matter how not scary it really is, is still too scary.

So for all of you who gave us advice, thanks. Y'all rock.

And most of all thanks to Rich and Sue who made the trip possible.

Happy Thankspatricks Day

2011-03-17T18:31:00.000-07:00

Hayes Trotter and I always wish each other a Happy Thankspatricks Day on St. Patricks Day. I can't remember now who started it. I think it might have been me, then again, it rolls off the tongue so well it might have been him. Anyway. I'm thankful for him.

I'm thankful for these dudes, too.

Not so crazy about my yellow teeth...hello!

More like what the hello!

Incrimination Nation

2011-03-06T11:42:00.001-08:00

I caught Mac and Anna Rose in the act. It happened Saturday night. The boy put the moves on my daughter! And what did I do? I snapped a picture. What's wrong with me?

I'll tell you. The reason is simple. I like Mac. It was a first time infraction. Even so, the mere fact that he is a cool kid doesn't give him permission to hang his arm around my daughter. The boy better watch himself. I won't be as forgiving the second time...

But even as I write this, I must confess, I am a boiling pot of convolution. You see, it was not Mac but me who agreed to let them take a bubble bath together.

Erg! Why do they have to be so cute! There's the arm again!

In twenty-five years (you hear me Mac-ster? 25 years!), maybe these pictures will be funny. Until then, Mac, beware, you are now on my radar.

February 27, 2011

2011-02-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

Anna Rose, Dave Dave, and I were on a run. Nothing too unusual about that. We have been on hundreds of runs together the last couple of years.

Anna Rose as usual was trying to carry on a conversation with me. We were turning onto Hertford when she said, "Is Kristiana's Grandma in Tell?" (Her way of saying the H word) I said, "I don't know. I never had a conversation with her. Jesus says we can't know for sure if anyone is going there because nobody can know what's really going on inside another person. But, if you ask Jesus in your heart, then you can be sure that you are going there."

She thought a moment. I turned onto Doncaster. She said, "Really bad people go to Tell. If you're bad a little you go to Heaven." I said, "That's not true. Really, bad people can go to Heaven if they ask Jesus into their hearts. He can forgive them if they ask for it. What gets you into Heaven is not whether you are good or bad but whether you have Jesus in your heart or not."

She had to think about that. We turned onto Yorkshire. She asked, "How do I ask Jesus in my heart?"

I said, "Well, it's sort of like inviting people to your birthday party. We can write Jesus an invitation if you want when we get back home."

She sat there and started talking so I couldn't hear her.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Asking Jesus in my heart," she said.

I stopped the jog stroller. "Did you really just ask Jesus in your heart?"

"Well, I talked to him in my mind." She stopped. "Jesus, please come into my heart," she said. She giggled.

I gave her a huge hug. "That's awesome Anna Rose. I asked Jesus in my heart too. We'll be in heaven together!"

We ran over to the Craig's house. (It's not exactly their house, long story, for the sake of this one I won't get into it). And Anna Rose told her friend Mac. Turns out, he asked Jesus into his heart too! It's going to be a party!

Last night, I asked Anna Rose if it was OK if I told some friends about her decision. She said, "Yes." I put it on video for her. That's what's above.

You should have seen her face this morning when she saw all those people cheering for her...

The Bible says there's a million angels up in heaven doing the same.

For Mom with Love

2011-02-23T11:51:00.000-08:00

Here is a talk I gave a couple weeks ago. It is actually a re-recording because I forgot to record it the first time and I promised my mother that she didn't need to fly down for it because I would record it...and then I didn't! So a week later I re-recorded it in my office. A lesson learned the hard way. Anyway, here you go mom. I love you.

Cut and paste the link below or go to hopepresws.com and navigate through.

http://www.hopepresws.com/components/com_sermonspeaker/media/sermons/2011/20110213.mp3

True Grit

2011-02-20T04:16:00.000-08:00

On July 9, 2006, Anna Rose took over my world. We have spent a lot of time together the last four and a half years. And I wouldn't necessarily say that I have loved every minute of it, but I can say that I have loved her every minute of it.

She is sensitive and sweet and fun and funny and creative and smart and pretty and thoughtful and caring and obsessive compulsive and intense and emotional and cute and precise and dainty and into princesses and ponies and dolls and jewelry and tutus.

I had in mind that since I was going to spend a lot time with her that I could nurture her into something more gritty. I planned on a tomboy. I got a ballerina. And I've gotten over it. I'm getting over it. There is something that happens to a father when their daughter dresses up for the first time that makes never watching a football game with her all right.

But I think yesterday we might have had a breakthrough. Hope is not lost. It started with the soccer uniform. We signed A-Ro up for U5 soccer this spring. She put on that jersey and something happened. It was like a transformation. We got home and all she wanted to do was kick things. She did wear her draw string around her neck, but hey, in a way that was part of the coolness. She didn't care how she looked. We held off on her afternoon quiet time and played two halves a soccer in the back yard. She wore that jersey until bath time.

But I knew something changed when Anna Rose ran up to me later and told me with pride: "Daddy, I just skimmed both knees and I didn't cry!" It was unbelievable. She normally cries over the thought of mosquito bites. She said, pointing to her legs: "My one knee's green and my other knee's brown." I said, "That's awesome!" We high-fived and ran back to playing.

Later that night, I performed minor surgery on her hand. She had gotten two splinters on Wednesday and had been hiding the fact until I noticed last night. She had not wanted me to see them because she was afraid it would hurt when I pulled them out. Yesterday, she said, "Daddy, it's OK. We can leave them. They don't hurt very much any more." Poor girl.

I said, "Well, whether they hurt or not, I'm taking them out tomorrow." (Part of what I've learned about myself is that I struggle with watching my little girl cry. I've realized and fully admit, that my actions have been part of the girliness problem. By my behavior, I have aided and abetted my daughter's pretty princess of a personality.) I confess I prayed before I went to bed that those splinters might find their way out for themselves over night.

They didn't. So last night I put A-Ro on the counter and set to work. And to my utter astonishment, not only did Anna Rose not cry, she watched! She was proud of the hole in her hand that remained. And when the second one required some digging, she didn't squirm. It was a clear a change had taken place. My little girl...my beautiful little girl was tough. I have never been more proud.

Watch out world. Here comes A-Ro.

DAVE DAVE

2011-02-09T11:39:00.000-08:00

February 9, 2009

February 10, 2009

Late February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

Late September 2009

Early October 2009

October 2009

Halloween 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

Birthday 1

February 9, 2010

March 2010

April 2010

May 2010

June 2010

Late June 2010

August 2010

September 2010

October 2010

Halloween 2010

November 2010

December 2010

Christmas 2010

January 2010

Birthday 2

February 9, 2011

Happy Birthday Dave Dave. I love you!

R U Ready 4 Dis?

2011-02-07T05:36:00.001-08:00

The short answer, No.

She used to be a baby. She used to be a toddler. Now, she is...well, the scary thing is she is going to be a woman and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

This weekend I took her to Chick-fil-a for their daddy daughter date night. The food was chick-fil-a, in other words fried/delightful. We had a cute daddy/daughter kind of conversation. I got her flowers. We went to the mall and road the merry-go-round afterwards. We stayed out past bedtime.

But I made one mistake. The day before we got some perfume samples in the newspaper. I was like, hey, I'll let A-Ro put it on for our daddy/daughter date. She thought that was a great idea. But I'll tell you I was not prepared for a little girl to smell like that. She came running up to me with a hug and I almost fell over.

Not from the velocity but the fragrance. It was WAY to grown up. I'm not ready for a fragrance like that. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready for a fragrance like that.

It was a slow down moment if I ever had one.

I've got to savor this while it lasts.

The pink and the cartoons and the costumes and the stuffed animals and the hugs and the kisses and the fact she thinks I'm a great dad, the fact she still calls me daddy...

I was reminded by that whiff, it'll be over too soon and before I know it.

I love you A-Ro. Always have, always will. Let's leave the future in the future and keep the perfume on the shelf, a little longer, for my sake. Please. I'm not ready.

You Say You Want a Revolution?

2011-01-26T11:30:00.000-08:00

I'm calling it my New Years Revolution: I'm going to play in a mariachi band! Just kidding, sort of. What I am doing is learning Spanish.

I'm devoting 2011 to it. I have a multifaceted strategy, so far so good, I think. First, I got Rosetta Stone for Christmas. It really is fantastic. I passed Unit 1 last week with a 74% on the final test. I can't say much. However, I am sitting on a silla as I type this. And my computer is on a mesa. And earlier, yo comiendo un sandwich.

Part 2 of the strategy is to juega some pick up soccer (or futbol) this spring.

3 is we are going to begin, probably in early summer, a weekly Spanish only dinner. I have high hopes for this: first of all, for some excellent comida; second of all, for some multi-cultural flavor; third of all, for fun and new amigos.

The big test will be in June when we go to Mexico on vacation.

It's going to be a challenge. One thing I've dropped is reading. Spanish takes up too much brain power. Between it and the books (there are currently 3 in different phases) I'm working on, my brain is already on overload. So I apologize if my reading list for 2011 is minimal. I'll pick it up again in 2012.

Adios!

The Meaning of Words

2011-01-14T10:38:00.000-08:00

When it comes to words and their meanings, there are two words in particular that have changed dramatically over the course of years. What two words am I talking about? snow day of course.

Snow day used to mean vacation. Sledding down Barry's hill. Making snow forts in the front yard. Throwing snowballs at objects both animate and inanimate. It meant hot chocolate. It meant watching movies in the day time. It meant wearing pajamas all day. It used to be the best combination of words in the English language.

It doesn't mean that anymore. Snow day now means "what the heck am I going to do with these kids?" It means cabin fever. It means your house being trashed and puddles in the foyer, kids having to pee pee as soon as you get that third layer fastened. It means not getting a thing on your list done. It means torture.

It astounds me that two little words could have such drastically different connotations. My children - they don't see snow days the way I do - they see them the way I did. The question I'm asking myself is why? What happened to me? When did snow day become a bad word? When did I turn into my parents? The secondary question is what am I going to do about it? Barring unforeseen grade-skippage or accidental pregnancy, I'll be dealing with snow days for the next sixteen years! It's time I come to terms with these words.

What are they going to mean to me?

Frankly, I want them back. I want the old meaning back. I'm claiming it. Right now. I'm writing it here for all five of you who read this blog. Snow day is no longer a bad word. Snow day is my new happy place. Bring them on.

Like Sister Like Brother

2010-12-30T12:06:00.001-08:00

Let's Review:

Year 1: 2007.

Year 2: 2008.

Year 3: 2009.

Year 4: 2010.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2010-12-13T16:39:00.000-08:00

This entry is for Leela. We were sitting at the kitchen table a few days ago. She was looking glum. I asked her what was the matter. She said, she was worried that the kids weren't having a good Christmas. I said, Christmas is three weeks away!

She shared with me about how growing up she remembered doing so many fun things all December long. I looked at her and said, what do you think we've been doing?

So this, Leela, is your quick reminder of just a few of the wonderfully fun things we have been doing all December long.

We started out with the annual viewing of Christmas Vacation. Here are our hosts, Eddie and Catherine.

We were Todd and Margot.

The next weekend we had our marathon of Christmas Parties, Mistletoe Half Marathons, Parades, and IHOP (see my post from like two posts ago).

Then we got our Christmas Tree, put up decorations, lights...our house is the best one on the block, if I do say so myself.

Then you took our girl to the Nutcracker.

The next day you decorated a gigantic gingerbread man.

(It looked better than it tasted)

Don't you forget how Anna Rose turned her entire room into a Nativity scene during her "nap" time. It might be the only Nativity in history with a dinosaur!

Do you still think our family is not in the Christmas spirit?

Are you for serious? Here's one more picture for proof:

The yearly photo with the big man himself! Another classic. Leela, I hope you're satisfied. It's been the most wonderful time of the year.

Covert Op - Plaza de La Bandera - Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

2010-12-09T11:09:00.000-08:00

Some people dream about Mount Everest. Others about eating a hot dog in every Major League Stadium. I dream of genie. Just kidding. I'm not kidding about Scott Steele, though. He's my climbing buddy and one of my best friends. He dreamed about the Plaza de La Bandera. Check him out as he pulls it off. You're awesome, Scott.

Depending on Definition

2010-12-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

If you ask me, we had a GREAT weekend. If you ask my wife, well, let's just say you'd get a different answer.

It started off with a bang. Literally, Lia was in a car accident. She was ok. (Of course, the bad husband that I am, my first question was "Was it your fault?"...boy do I have a lot to learn) It led to a stressful few hours, but it also led to some of the best connections Lia has ever had with some of the folks from our church. See, the moment we got home, we had to jump in the unblemished Jeep to go to a church Christmas Party.

They party was a lot of fun, and the vulnerability that comes with being made vulnerable led to really meaningful conversation. Afterwards, we came home. Slept. I woke up at 5:55 to get ready for the Mistletoe half-marathon. Lia woke up a bit later. We got ready, stretched, got the kids up, the sitter came, we ran. We both did great. Lia broke 2 hours! I ran a 1:23! Don't think I'll do that ever again. After I finished, I ran to the car, relieved the babysitter, put the kids in the car, and drove back to the finish line. Found Lia. We hung out at the after party. Anna Rose cried at a near encounter with Bolt, the mascot for the Winston-Salem Dash. We had to leave before the awards were dished out.

We fed the kids. It snowed! Anna Rose and I ran outside to catch snowflakes on our tongues. The sitter came back. Lia and I went to the Wake Forest basketball game. We won! We came home. Anna Rose and I ran a few errands. Then, we all put on every bit of clothing we possess and went to the Christmas Parade down 4th Street. It was sleeting, but it stopped just as we parked. We watched the parade with friends then went to IHOP for breakfast for dinner. The kids stayed up way past their bedtime. We finally got them asleep. We followed shortly thereafter.

We got up. Went to church. I had to go early for worship practice. Then to Starbucks to interview a couple who were joining the church. Lia cooked food for a party later that afternoon. Then to the service. Then afterward, straight to the Young Life Christmas Party. I ate a healthy portion of Lia's awesome Mexican lasagna. The kids entertained everyone. We got back in the car. Went home. I folded laundry. Went for a run. The kids went for a nap. We tidied. The kids got up. We went to church for a congregational chili cookoff/meeting. It went well. We came home. Got the kids to bed.

Lia and I sat on the couch. I said, "Wasn't that weekend amazing!"

Lia said, "I can handle a weekend like this, maybe once a year."

I said, "What? I could do this weekend every day!"

God help Lia.

This has been a big discovery for me over the last year: my definition of good is WAY different than Lia's. A good day for me is activity, lots of it, the more significant, meaningful things, even if they are hard, even really hard, that you can pack in the better. Lia's definition on the other hand is peace. A good day is a stress free day, one when what you expect to get done gets done and nothing unexpected happens. To me that sounds like a boring day. To Lia, my good day feels like torture.

The discovery's made me rethink some things. Like, when I ask someone how they are doing: they might say fine. But that depends on what their definition of fine is. That's the real question I need to get answered. I'm learning that there are words and there are meanings. I believe we are called to understand - that means knowing not what is said but what is meant. It's a challenge. I mean, it's really hard sometimes...isn't that great!

My Worst Nightmare and the Blessing in Disguise

2010-12-01T10:04:00.000-08:00

On Monday, last Monday, I met with my mentor, Fil. I confessed to him that I was tired. "What kind of tired?" he asked. "Physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, you name it," I said. He said, "Sure you are. But what kind of tired?" "What do you mean?" I asked. "Well," he said, "is it fatigue? Or are you burned out?" "A little bit of both," I said.

He quoted me these words from my man JC: "Are you tired? (Yes) Worn out? (Yes) Burned out on religion? (You bet) Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest."

"I like that verse," I said, :all but the last part. What I need from JC is some more energy. Something to get me motivated."

"Do you ever rest, Ned?" Fil asked.

"Not on purpose," I said. "I mean, I'll watch some football on the weekends if I can't think of something better to do."

We continued to talk. Fil continued to expose my rest aversion. To him, rest sounded essential. To me, it sounded like a waste of time. He encouraged me to practice resting. Take a portion of each day and intentionally stop and do nothing of particular value (other than the value that there is in stopping). I said, "I'll think about it."

I didn't.

It was Thanksgiving after all. We traveled to Columbus, Tuesday night. The next day, I asked Lia if she minded if I got some work done in the morning. Afterward, I hung out with the kids, got them down for their naps. Ran. Read. Did my emails. Talked with my mother in-law. Picked up Chad from the airport, and so on.

Thanksgiving Day. Lia and I ran in the Columbus Turkey Trot. Got in a marital spat. Went for a long walk with my father in-law to talk it out. Ate lunch. Made up. Played some ping pong. Played with the kids. Talked to the relatives. Talked to my parents, sister, and so on. We ate Thanksgiving dinner. It was great.

the vultures were circling the carcass

At midnight, I started to hurl. I really don't know if it was food poisoning or a bug. It really doesn't matter. (Cara contracted the exact same thing. Only the two of us ate this suspicious ham for lunch earlier that day. Hmmm. Sue's theory is that since Cara and I are chock full of recessive genes (light hair, light eyes, left handed, etc.) that we are weaker creatures and therefore more susceptible to things like bugs and bad food. Thanks, Sue.) Anyway, I was vomiting up all my favorite foods. I thought I was going to die. Despite my mother in-laws theory, I don't get sick like this very often. (When I do, everyone knows it. See past entries.) All I know was that I was out for the count. Midnight to 6am was a blur between bouts of my favorite foods coming out both ends.

My worst nightmare: no, not the sickness. I could deal (barely) with the sickness. What was going through my mind was that I'll never be able to eat turkey, stuffing, gravy, mash potatoes, spinach casserole, and corn pudding ever again. That's serious.

It finally subsided. From 6-noon. I was laid out in bed. The whole family minus me went shopping. I didn't move. Then, around 10 o'clock, it hit me: I'm resting.

Now, I'm not theologically savvy enough to know whether it was somebody's germs, my man JC or my own stupidity that got me sick (I can't speak for Cara); what I do know is that I was forced to stop. And I didn't like it. But it was good.

All this to say, I'm learning. I'm not ready to jump on the Restful bandwagon just yet, but I'm starting to think those Sabbath-loving, nap-taking, kick-off-your-shoes yahoos might not be as crazy I think they are.

Here are a few photos from the holiday...

Fall Fun

2010-11-16T10:19:00.000-08:00

The whole time I was waiting for an American Funniest Home Videos moment. Alas, the moment turned out to just be fun.

Holler-ween

2010-11-05T04:30:00.000-07:00

We were a hodge-podge this Halloween, not for lack of preparation. Rosie had planned on being a puppy since November 1, 2009.

Last Christmas, my folks gave Dave Dave a train conductor outfit. He grew into it just in time. It also just so happens Dave's favorite word at the moment is choo choo!

Lia and I paid homage to two Philadelphia Eagle quarterbacks of yesteryear.

Lia and A-Ro thought a black nose was more dalmatian-ee. Cute is what I call it.

The muscle suit might have been a bit too much.

Dave's been working on the railroad, all the live long day...

Ned Erickson

Let Him Eat Cake

Lord of the Flies - the Girl Version

The Destiny of the Republic - a review

If You Got It Flaunt It

The Run Up Has Begun

Running in the New Year

Breaking Hearts

Christmas Comes Early Once Again

Christmas Moon

How Have You Bin?

The Last Hair-ray

Update on my Face

Fun Little Blurb from Summit's Enewsletter

Clay in Review

Halloween

No Shave November

Wild Horses

40

You-Taw!

Grunt

Hot Momma

Redeemer Middle School Rocks

Blue Ridge Relay

Gangstas in the House

Fifth Graders Rock

First Day of Kindergarten

Because She is that Awesome

Chapter 1

Nemo

Fat Skeleton Suit

Happy Birthday Anna Rose

Biggest Laugh This Summer

Ned Ericksonposted toMelanie KoewingThinking about you Mel. Let me know if you need anything.

My true self - an aha moment from Ned in Winston-Salem

Oh Boy

Squirmie

Ned EricksonI'm afraid Anna Rose's pet caterpillar, Squirmie, might have kicked the bucket. What should I do?

Then off it flew. I was so proud of her. She set Honeysuckle free tonight with Lia. It flew way up into the sky above the trees then came back down and landed on Anna Rose's finger before flying away. No lie.Mission accomplished.

The Difference a Week Can Make

Nedbery

Not Fade Away...a Dave Dave Original

Kentucky Derby 2011

Love and Hate

My Kind of Mustache

Family Camp Part 2 - Fred Gimble

Family Camp Part 1 - Hex Caliber

Disney Part 3 - "His Eyes"

Disney - Part 2 "Through Her Eyes"

Disney - Part 1

Happy Thankspatricks Day

Incrimination Nation

February 27, 2011

For Mom with Love

True Grit

DAVE DAVE

R U Ready 4 Dis?

You Say You Want a Revolution?

The Meaning of Words

Like Sister Like Brother

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Covert Op - Plaza de La Bandera - Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

Depending on Definition

My Worst Nightmare and the Blessing in Disguise

Fall Fun

Holler-ween

Ned Ericksonposted toMelanie Koewing
Thinking about you Mel. Let me know if you need anything.

Ned Erickson
I'm afraid Anna Rose's pet caterpillar, Squirmie, might have kicked the bucket. What should I do?

Then off it flew. I was so proud of her.

She set Honeysuckle free tonight with Lia. It flew way up into the sky above the trees then came back down and landed on Anna Rose's finger before flying away. No lie.

Mission accomplished.