Skip to main content

Middle Child on the Radar

My sweet, sweet little Justin. We never really know what he's going to come up with next.

Known for his uncanny knack for ruining photos, his creative clothing choices and his loving disposition, our little Justin is so much like his "GrandDad," in looks and his approach to life that we just have to laugh.

I just had to capture his Radar O'Reilly look. [More evidence I am getting old: did you know there are young people in America who have never seen M*A*S*H*? What is the world coming to?]

Justin loves to ride his bike, play t-ball, and most of all to make "crafts" at the little desk in his room with his ever-growing supply of pipe cleaners, pre-cut foam pieces, googly eyes, and colored pencils.

Tomorrow morning he will be joining his big brother and Dad on a big trip. I will miss his smudged glasses and his sweet little smile. Most of all I will miss the way he periodically stops playing to come and just see if I'm still here for him.


Popular posts from this blog

Happily Ever After

Last weekend, in a brief moment of remote control ownership, I tuned into basic cable and saw a very disturbing show called "Rich Bride, Poor Bride." I watched two episodes and didn't see what I would call a "poor" bride--although actually, after they blew their budgets, both brides probably did end up poor. One couple spent about $75,000. They talked her out of having live peacocks at the reception.

That makes me think about my own much simpler but very nice-for-Farmersville wedding over a decade ago. In many ways it was a disaster.

We were engaged for a year and a half; we had plenty of time to plan but fates conspired against us.

By the time we got to the week of the wedding, we had buried two people on the guest list and paid our respects to a distant uncle. One of the people we lost was my husband's grandfather who died Monday, we had visitation Wednesday, funeral Thursday, rehearsal dinner Friday, wedding Saturday. How his grandmother handled it is beyo…

Snapshots on the Farm

Starting off summer with Ayrshire dairy females grazing in the lot by our driveway. Our family used to milk Ayrshires but we now just keep a few on hand for 4-H projects.

Rejected by Nancy Cartwright

Every two years the nationally renowned Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop is held here in Dayton. The event typically sells out in hours, but one way to gain entry is to enter the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition--there is even a category for local writers.

Several of my local friends who are great bloggers and hilarious Facebook commenters have been talking smack about winning this thing since we were all shut out two years ago by booger stories.

Nancy Cartwright, Dayton native and the the voice of Bart Simpson, judged the finalists this year. Apparently, she did not like my entry.

Recently, famous blogger and author Jenny Lawson shared an article she had written that was rejected by Oprah's magazine. So, inspired by her, I will share my article that I'm sure made it all the way to Nancy [it did not] and then was rejected for not being about boogers or port-a-johns.

Check out "All the Dreeds of Pigs" in a future post on this blog.