The Curl on Top

If you breathe air and have some sort of influence over a person who has less experience at it than you, get them and yourself to a local small town ice-cream place FAST and enjoy a messy and unhealthy dairy concoction that gets pooped out of a metal machine.

Summer is fading fast, and if you don't do this soon, another warm night and season will slip through your hands and you will be in a rest-home some day complaining about not enjoying life more. And while your at it, smile at the kid with acne behind the counter and tell him nobody puts the curl on top quite as good as he does.

Poetic Meter and Root Beer Gas

It's been a busy couple of weeks. So for Saturday morning inspiration, I pulled open iPhoto to see what has happened recently.


We sauntered down to the lake for a boat ride with a pastor to a rock band. (I know, needs explaining). Von and Vienna shared an apple and my jacket. Life is good.


I enjoyed an afternoon bike ride with the kids to the local library to get poetry books. Then we sat in the sun and read poetry to each other, pretending to be literary snobs while drinking root beer. The pause for burps worked out great and helped the poetic meter of the readings.


The Kissing Camels at Garden of the Gods have nothing on the kissing Lisa. Don't get me started...


I met Jesus this week at the trade show but didn't get his business card or his photo. I did, however, get a snap of the Roman Centurion as he cleared up my 'Dude, is that a skirt?' comment I made. Now that I see the photo, I need an image coach or stunt man so I don't look so motherly in my fighting posture.