tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-100230402018-08-28T14:47:31.997-04:00Russelldad's blogPaul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.comBlogger452125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-26024487107882962862013-12-25T19:00:00.000-05:002013-12-25T19:03:53.216-05:00Merry Christmas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN8lPJWqyKk/UrtxXeqeN2I/AAAAAAAAQxw/Ic56gO1ylcA/s1600/Kids+Christmas+2013a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN8lPJWqyKk/UrtxXeqeN2I/AAAAAAAAQxw/Ic56gO1ylcA/s1600/Kids+Christmas+2013a.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-11764410011442289032013-12-14T22:27:00.001-05:002013-12-14T22:27:03.336-05:00I Ate A Barnacle<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOzDCsMvHrw/UnsEnIwIniI/AAAAAAAAPfM/9w1oZFTpQd8/s1600/IMG_20131024_211609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOzDCsMvHrw/UnsEnIwIniI/AAAAAAAAPfM/9w1oZFTpQd8/s320/IMG_20131024_211609.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a><br />Two barnacles if I'm being totally honest. It happened while I was on a business trip in Portugal, struggling to adjust to the time zone, and someone said "Here try a barnacle."<br /><br />Apparently a little jet lag is all it takes to break down my defenses. That and Portugal is a sweet place.<br /><br />Prior to my great barnacle eating event of 2013 I did some sight seeing. The group I was with took a tour of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castle_of_the_Moors">The Castle of the Moors</a> which is a hilltop fortress that gives an entirely new meaning to the word hilltop. I've climbed mountains that seemed a lot flatter than this hill. The view from the top was both spectacular and terrifying at the same time.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EvvmTQMNLgg/UqKVca5J6wI/AAAAAAAAQHc/RCo5m0mk2kU/s1600/IMG_20131022_111255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EvvmTQMNLgg/UqKVca5J6wI/AAAAAAAAQHc/RCo5m0mk2kU/s1600/IMG_20131022_111255.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The castle is on the left. The "outside" is on the right.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The combination of the wind and rain made walking the castle walls fairly scary. I started climbing up a set of steps and realized that the clouds were so thick I couldn't see the top.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kf67CyCBVGE/UqKWe_UjeaI/AAAAAAAAQHo/F_MmS0QqJd4/s1600/IMG_20131022_111954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kf67CyCBVGE/UqKWe_UjeaI/AAAAAAAAQHo/F_MmS0QqJd4/s1600/IMG_20131022_111954.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It keeps going for quite a while after the clouds take over the view.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The weather was harsh and there weren't any great places to escape it in the castle. It gave me a new appreciation for how hated the Moors must have felt that they'd build and hang out in a place like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqsuLjCFPaE/UqKXz23omiI/AAAAAAAAQH0/M7VOxTHAusE/s1600/IMG_20131022_114531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqsuLjCFPaE/UqKXz23omiI/AAAAAAAAQH0/M7VOxTHAusE/s1600/IMG_20131022_114531.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br />Later that day the weather cleared up and we visited the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pena_National_Palace">Pena National Palace</a>. Nice place. A little big for my taste, but I'm sure most people that don't own one of these say things like that.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7QTLYeVBa_A/UqKZBGH3FgI/AAAAAAAAQIE/7bRIh5PLJWo/s1600/PANO_20131022_122615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7QTLYeVBa_A/UqKZBGH3FgI/AAAAAAAAQIE/7bRIh5PLJWo/s1600/PANO_20131022_122615.jpg" height="220" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fairly enormous panorama of the Pena National Palace </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rn4s7PNK_SM/UqKZA8V34eI/AAAAAAAAQIA/i0fAb9SnKDQ/s1600/PANO_20131022_125504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rn4s7PNK_SM/UqKZA8V34eI/AAAAAAAAQIA/i0fAb9SnKDQ/s1600/PANO_20131022_125504.jpg" height="640" width="432" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every time I look at this picture I think Naboo...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ByzMvTIlNEA/UqKZCQUznZI/AAAAAAAAQIQ/wzpqbP1erLA/s1600/PANO_20131022_125541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ByzMvTIlNEA/UqKZCQUznZI/AAAAAAAAQIQ/wzpqbP1erLA/s1600/PANO_20131022_125541.jpg" height="328" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, doesn't this look like Naboo?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Before we left one of my teammates took a picture of me at the Palace. I blend right in like I own the place don't I?<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mEFBffYwHls/UqKavShtlGI/AAAAAAAAQIk/uQzCAwu5Q3A/s1600/IMG_20131022_131304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mEFBffYwHls/UqKavShtlGI/AAAAAAAAQIk/uQzCAwu5Q3A/s1600/IMG_20131022_131304.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />Eventually we got hungry and made our way off to dinner. That's when I ate the barnacle. For the record, they taste like oil and garlic and they're tasty. Honestly, everything I ate in Portugal was delicious. It really says something about a place when they can make a plate that looks like this taste good.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOzDCsMvHrw/UnsEnIwIniI/AAAAAAAAPfM/9w1oZFTpQd8/s1600/IMG_20131024_211609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOzDCsMvHrw/UnsEnIwIniI/AAAAAAAAPfM/9w1oZFTpQd8/s320/IMG_20131024_211609.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barnacles. Yum.</td></tr></tbody></table>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-25874719778184496612013-10-31T22:33:00.001-04:002013-10-31T22:35:23.981-04:00Alex's First Time Playing Drums With A Live Band!Last week we took the family to a party at Leo's barn. There's always live music at Leo's and it's always a great time. This time something magical happened.<br /><br />Alex sat down at the drums while the band was taking a break. He started playing the drum part to ACDC's Back in Black and musicians came running from all over the house to get in on some 80's hair band action. The result was, and this is a scientific term, totally wicked awesome.<br /><br />Christine managed to capture part of it on video.<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Ydn68qeJM8k?rel=0" width="560"> </iframe></center><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ydn68qeJM8k">Alex was playing drums with his first live rock band</a>.</div><br /><br />Alex (10 years old) and I have been working on the drums for a few months and he's soaking it up like a sponge. Even so, I was blown away by how easily he went from lessons to playing live.<br /><br />The band was made up of two guitar players, John on keyboard, me on bass, and Alex rockin' the drums. Every musical experience I've had pales in comparison to the thrill of playing in a band with my son. What a rush.Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-45398660918646053912013-10-05T21:28:00.000-04:002013-12-14T22:31:52.300-05:00Conner's Class Trip - Hike Up Mt. WachusettBack in October I took a day off to hike up Mt. Wachusett with Conner's class. We took a more direct route than we did when <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2010/09/alexs-class-trip-hike-up-mt-wachusett.html">Alex and I did the hike with his class</a>. On the way up Conner was thrilled to discover a white spotted caterpillar. He took care of it for a while before finding a nice tree for it to live on. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K5MN54jXNXg/UqKLL4oo6GI/AAAAAAAAQG4/zApoiKhfNk4/s1600/IMG_1852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K5MN54jXNXg/UqKLL4oo6GI/AAAAAAAAQG4/zApoiKhfNk4/s1600/IMG_1852.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The top of the mountain has a new tower which is surprisingly large. The ladders to the top were missing so we weren't able to get higher than the stone base. Even so it provided an impressive view.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lgu0BHbs-Lk/UqKLLx4ULLI/AAAAAAAAQG0/kFSJCoDZLyQ/s1600/IMG_1861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lgu0BHbs-Lk/UqKLLx4ULLI/AAAAAAAAQG0/kFSJCoDZLyQ/s1600/IMG_1861.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conner and his friend at the top of Mount Wachusett</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3ypoKdI-Ph4/UqKLMoxz7kI/AAAAAAAAQHA/IWP-lgfwDSI/s1600/IMG_1872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3ypoKdI-Ph4/UqKLMoxz7kI/AAAAAAAAQHA/IWP-lgfwDSI/s1600/IMG_1872.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conner and me at the top of Mount Wachusett</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After lunch and some running around on the top of the mountain we headed down. Fast. I mean really fast. Going up the mountain I was in my element. We climbed fast and rested when the kids needed it. Coming down was an an entirely different story. I don't usually feel at a physical disadvantage around the kids, but the way Conner flew down the mountain has me thinking that I'm either getting old, or gravity works differently for kids. For the record, I'm pretty sure it was a gravity issue.<br /><br />Either way, we had a great time. I'm looking forward to doing this trip with Allison next year.Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-16144208220469564352013-09-19T22:25:00.001-04:002013-09-19T22:25:27.204-04:00Spit Take - The Game<div center="" class="separator" text-align:=""><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FUe6yDdL6Q/UjusrHci2mI/AAAAAAAAOlE/OuC-Qh92ScY/s1600/IMG_2084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FUe6yDdL6Q/UjusrHci2mI/AAAAAAAAOlE/OuC-Qh92ScY/s320/IMG_2084.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="" left="" text-align:="">Christine was out last thursday night. Unencumbered by a responsible adult, the kids came up with a game called Spit Take. </div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>A spit-take is a comic technique in which someone spits a beverage out of his or her mouth when he or she reacts to a statement. - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spit-take">Wikipedia</a></i></blockquote>Their version of the game was pretty simple.<br /><ol><li>Person A takes a big swig of water. </li><li>Person B then says something gross such as "I peed in that glass."</li><li>Person A spits the water out in making as much noise and spray as possible.</li><li>Person C (That was me) is instructed to take pictures.</li></ol><div><br />These are some of our pictures.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kEV8iBpAMn0/UjusW1EPHII/AAAAAAAAOkc/UwtgcLvtuLI/s1600/IMG_2062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kEV8iBpAMn0/UjusW1EPHII/AAAAAAAAOkc/UwtgcLvtuLI/s640/IMG_2062.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex gets a masterful spray.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5vBqv4AZ6w/UjusVUz0Y6I/AAAAAAAAOkY/ugKCyfi3k_I/s1600/IMG_2071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5vBqv4AZ6w/UjusVUz0Y6I/AAAAAAAAOkY/ugKCyfi3k_I/s640/IMG_2071.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conner working on his chundering technique. He is quite fond of that word.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LqINJ7yeiGA/Ujute94_rjI/AAAAAAAAOlQ/P5cjE1XXKMs/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LqINJ7yeiGA/Ujute94_rjI/AAAAAAAAOlQ/P5cjE1XXKMs/s640/IMG_2068.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison goes for distance.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pb9UQjawHc/UjusZ65hSII/AAAAAAAAOko/jfO7L0sVISA/s1600/IMG_2063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pb9UQjawHc/UjusZ65hSII/AAAAAAAAOko/jfO7L0sVISA/s640/IMG_2063.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dexter enjoying some time with the kids next to our sad, sad garden. As you can see, we were masterful in our gardening incompetence this year. It was so bad we almost kept the weeds from growing. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qN2y3iD1XSI/Ujuso2OIhFI/AAAAAAAAOk4/FY6ZnKkW3xc/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qN2y3iD1XSI/Ujuso2OIhFI/AAAAAAAAOk4/FY6ZnKkW3xc/s640/IMG_2075.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex demonstrating alternative swig techniques.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FUe6yDdL6Q/UjusrHci2mI/AAAAAAAAOlE/OuC-Qh92ScY/s1600/IMG_2084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FUe6yDdL6Q/UjusrHci2mI/AAAAAAAAOlE/OuC-Qh92ScY/s640/IMG_2084.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex wrapping up a successful evening of Spit Take.</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-11939571630617380432013-09-19T20:39:00.001-04:002013-09-19T20:39:48.641-04:00Allison's Repartee <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NydSfAEmid0/UjuXOI0TlmI/AAAAAAAAOkE/loRYVl2gWkY/s1600/IMG_20130915_150604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NydSfAEmid0/UjuXOI0TlmI/AAAAAAAAOkE/loRYVl2gWkY/s400/IMG_20130915_150604.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><i><br /></i><i>Allison</i>: <b>Daddy, can you cut up an apple for me?</b><br /><br /><i>Me</i>: <b>Yes dear.</b><br /><br /><i>Allison</i>: <b>Daddy, I'm sweetie! Mommy is dear.</b><br /><b><br /></b><br /><b><br /></b>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-86294567972358485042013-08-25T22:03:00.002-04:002013-08-25T22:03:48.196-04:00Chords to "My Nemesis" from Phineas and Ferb<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dIxWaE2YGEA/UhqxDkk68kI/AAAAAAAAOHM/bwsIP2XD46o/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-25+at+9.35.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dIxWaE2YGEA/UhqxDkk68kI/AAAAAAAAOHM/bwsIP2XD46o/s200/Screen+Shot+2013-08-25+at+9.35.44+PM.png" width="199" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phineas and Ferb Soundtrack Cover</td></tr></tbody></table>There's been a lot of music in our house lately with Alex, Conner, and Allison learning drums, guitar and piano respectively.<br /><br />Alex asked me to play along with him on the song "My Nemesis" from the Phineas and Ferb soundtrack. To my shock the song has more than three chords and I couldn't find them on the Internet. What is this world coming to‽<br /><br />Earlier tonight I sat down and figured out the chords. At least I think I did. For a while I thought the bridge was going to be my nemesis. Ultimately I found the chords hiding under a semi-aquatic egg laying mammal of action. Here they are for future parents who want to rock out to Phineas and Ferb's "My Nemesis".<br /><br /><br /><pre> My Nemesis by Danny Jacob<br />Chaotically transcribed by Paul Russell<br /><br /><br />A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme. <br /><br />A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme. <br /><br />A D G D<br />I used to sit alone doin' evil all day, <br /><br />A D G D<br />But now I think there's someone gonna get in my way, yeah, <br /><br />D G C G<br />There's someone in my life that doesn't want me to exist, <br /><br /><br />A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme <br /><br />G D<br />And I feel fine cause I've got a nemesis. <br /><br /><br />A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme. <br /><br />A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme. <br /><br /><br />C# minor F# minor <br />And I hate him, and he hates me, <br /><br /> D D7 <br />What a wonderful animosity. <br /><br />C# minor F# minor<br />Besides his hat he wears no clothes, <br /><br /> D E<br />Now I have someone to oppose... <br /><br /><br />Cause I've got a nemesis!<br /></pre><pre>A D G D<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme, neme. <br /><br />A D G D A<br />My neme, neme, oooo... my neme, neme...sis...<br /><br /></pre><pre><br /></pre><pre><br /></pre><pre><br /></pre><pre>Chords in this song</pre><pre><br /></pre><pre>A [0 0 2 2 2 0]<br /><br />D [x x 0 2 3 2]<br /><br />G [3 2 0 0 3 3]<br /><br />D7 [x 0 0 2 1 2]<br /><br />C# min [x 4 6 6 5 4]<br /><br />F# min [2 4 4 2 2 2] <br /></pre>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-16276768287125431662013-07-07T21:17:00.002-04:002013-07-07T21:17:51.976-04:00Princess Allison at Lego Land Last winter we headed down to Florida to see Memere and Pepere. They took us to Lego Land which was a blast. The models there are spectacular. Allison was in rare form posing with the models. <div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PmKMDuPv3H8/UdoLq6gqJxI/AAAAAAAANTk/q88DvDa3CIA/s1600/Photo+Feb+24,+3+37+02+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PmKMDuPv3H8/UdoLq6gqJxI/AAAAAAAANTk/q88DvDa3CIA/s640/Photo+Feb+24,+3+37+02+PM.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too cute for Darth Vader</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K4fft-_Qphc/UdoLrE-tgrI/AAAAAAAANTo/XaQHSZkBlb8/s1600/Photo+Feb+24,+3+37+13+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K4fft-_Qphc/UdoLrE-tgrI/AAAAAAAANTo/XaQHSZkBlb8/s640/Photo+Feb+24,+3+37+13+PM.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and R2-D2</td></tr></tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CY9-iWQe3nE/UdoLq6gu-0I/AAAAAAAANTs/FzrV5UMQjc8/s1600/Photo+Feb+24,+3+35+41+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CY9-iWQe3nE/UdoLq6gu-0I/AAAAAAAANTs/FzrV5UMQjc8/s640/Photo+Feb+24,+3+35+41+PM.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison hasn't seen the movie, but she still knows this guy is a clown</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Alex and I got a little over excited and Allison straightened us out.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blCZghb6I3M/UdoLqbzXTZI/AAAAAAAANTc/frvChYHYjEk/s1600/Photo+Feb+24,+11+15+25+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blCZghb6I3M/UdoLqbzXTZI/AAAAAAAANTc/frvChYHYjEk/s640/Photo+Feb+24,+11+15+25+AM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Miss In-Charge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BfmZzSDUJDs/UdoOVxsoDBI/AAAAAAAANUE/sU9Ks88tHVM/s1600/IMG_1420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BfmZzSDUJDs/UdoOVxsoDBI/AAAAAAAANUE/sU9Ks88tHVM/s640/IMG_1420.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids in front of a massive Lego NASA complex</td></tr></tbody></table><br />There was also a Star Wars exhibit with enormous models. I couldn't leave without getting some pictures. Alex was kind enough to jump in a few shots to provide a frame of reference.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJPZlVY54Tw/UdoOWcUalmI/AAAAAAAANUQ/MspTZc5ACd8/s1600/IMG_1458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJPZlVY54Tw/UdoOWcUalmI/AAAAAAAANUQ/MspTZc5ACd8/s640/IMG_1458.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lego Millenium Falcon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lu_JwoH-2J0/UdoOWTXDyRI/AAAAAAAANUI/R7vmy1BAbkA/s1600/IMG_1459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="374" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lu_JwoH-2J0/UdoOWTXDyRI/AAAAAAAANUI/R7vmy1BAbkA/s640/IMG_1459.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoth Battle Scene. All models were custom and about 2x the size you buy in the store</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hAjnF7CipFo/UdoOW6GzZkI/AAAAAAAANUU/-PDm9WBk_UA/s1600/IMG_1476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hAjnF7CipFo/UdoOW6GzZkI/AAAAAAAANUU/-PDm9WBk_UA/s640/IMG_1476.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'd be freaked out too if the Empire were that close.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Lego Land is worth seeing. While not required, I recommended bringing a child with you to provide a sense of scale in photographs of the models. </div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-59953332379419678222013-07-03T21:37:00.000-04:002013-07-03T21:37:37.231-04:00Life, The Universe and Cycling<i>The early morning yell of horror was the sound of yours truely waking up and suddenly remembering where I was. It wasn't just that the gym was hot, it wasn't just that it was damp and smelly. It was the fact that the gym was a rest stop in the middle of a 180 mile bicycle ride and there wasn't a bus due for another eighty miles.</i><br /><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;">One Day Earlier</h3><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TtxUoIwPcZo/UdQ4G3567TI/AAAAAAAAM8Q/apY8uTnhSn8/s1600/IMG_20130629_070919+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TtxUoIwPcZo/UdQ4G3567TI/AAAAAAAAM8Q/apY8uTnhSn8/s320/IMG_20130629_070919+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twenty Two hundred riders at the starting line</td></tr></tbody></table>Saturday morning I started riding in the ludicrously named <a href="http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?pg=entry&fr_id=19418">Bike MS: Cape Cod Getaway</a>, a fundraiser to fight multiple sclerosis. Neither the cause nor the National MS Society are ludicrous. Quite the contrary. MS is a horrible disease and the National MS Society is doing great work to find treatments and a cure.<br /><br />It is the name "Cape Cod Getaway" that I take issue with. "Getaway" sounds like a nice 2 day vacation, right? That's how they lure you in. Here's the description from the ride's website:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>The Cape Cod Getaway is the largest MS ride in New England. Beginning on the morning of Saturday June 29, over 2000 riders will pedal from UMass Boston through the coastal towns of Massachusetts' South Shore to the beginning of Cape Cod. </i></blockquote>Some quick Google mapping will tell you that it's 150 miles at best, but that assumes you're not a crazy person like me and my teammates. We signed up for the long route. One hundred and eighty miles on a bike! That's not a "Getaway."<br /><br />Signing up for the long route makes no difference in your fundraising capacity. It's the sort of thing that happens in a planning session at the pub when you've had one too many. In my case that turned out to be just one.<br /><br />I was talked into the MS ride by my friend Arthur Dent (not his real name) who was in turn talked into it by one of his friends. There's a certain degree of history repeating itself as this is basically how I ended up doing <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-first-century.html">my first century</a>.<br /><br />So there I was, standing in a brief but formidable monsoon on the campus of Umass Boston Bayside this past Saturday morning getting ready to head out on the first leg of the Bike MS: Cape Cod Getaway.<br /><br />The first day was the long bit. 100 miles.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OI-QTGwlrvU/UdOCQ1jWuqI/AAAAAAAAM1M/tyALCrCXNOc/s584/Screen+Shot+2013-07-02+at+8.51.58+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="626" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OI-QTGwlrvU/UdOCQ1jWuqI/AAAAAAAAM1M/tyALCrCXNOc/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-07-02+at+8.51.58+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RunKeeper recording of my day 1 ride </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_5YB7Rnj2Ak/UdSzCE6YMQI/AAAAAAAAM9E/mAq-Q6yOQ2Y/s200/ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_5YB7Rnj2Ak/UdSzCE6YMQI/AAAAAAAAM9E/mAq-Q6yOQ2Y/s200/ride.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's me</td></tr></tbody></table>I got separated from my teammates about 20 miles in and spent the rest of the day following my training. Eat, drink, pedal, repeat. The biggest lesson from previous rides is not to spend more than 14 minutes at a rest stop. Get in and get out. At minute 15 your legs start to cool down and it makes starting back up much harder.<br /><br />RunKeeper and my cycle computer differ slightly on the distance. The cycle computer had me at 103.26 miles and a 14.96 mph average pace. Not too shabby considering I was riding alone most of the day. Two thousand+ riders spread out very quickly over 100 miles.<br /><br />Still a solid day of riding. I was thankful that a constant cloud cover managed to keep the cursed day moon away.<br /><br />At the end of day one we lined up our 2200+ bikes in a field under a wind turbine and headed off to bed.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XXReYJbbPP8/UdQ4mmZOSWI/AAAAAAAAM8c/bd2yeB3yNe0/s1600/IMG_20130629_192115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XXReYJbbPP8/UdQ4mmZOSWI/AAAAAAAAM8c/bd2yeB3yNe0/s640/IMG_20130629_192115.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2200 bikes lined up for a night's rest</td></tr></tbody></table><br />That night I slept in a gymnasium on a foam mattress. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but I have never been so pleased to see a mattress of any kind as I was that night.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S8pY-JTi2Ck/UdODqdTYTJI/AAAAAAAAM1g/GMWd71hdi_U/s1600/IMG_20130629_192307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S8pY-JTi2Ck/UdODqdTYTJI/AAAAAAAAM1g/GMWd71hdi_U/s640/IMG_20130629_192307.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arguably the most comfortable mattress on the planet. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Sunday morning I got a late start. I was woken at 4:30 am by the sounds of the person next to me packing up his sleeping bag. We were supposed to wake up at 4am, but either the wake up call we were promised didn't happen or we slept through it. My first paragraph homage to Douglas Adams aside, I actually felt very good Sunday morning. We were back on the road for our second day by 5:36am.<br /><br />The second day was also the long bit.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rCGPb2Pkx40/UdOCQ0-8w7I/AAAAAAAAM1I/J2gQjXO9Ff0/s584/Screen+Shot+2013-07-02+at+8.52.49+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="626" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rCGPb2Pkx40/UdOCQ0-8w7I/AAAAAAAAM1I/J2gQjXO9Ff0/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-07-02+at+8.52.49+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RunKeeper recording of my day 2 ride </td></tr></tbody></table><br />My cycle computer had this ride at 81 miles with a 15.54 mph pace. I attribute the increase in speed to drafting off my teammates and something I heard at the 40 mile rest stop.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Warning: This next bit uses some terminology that may offend sensitive readers. </b></div><div><br /></div>There's something they don't tell you about the second day of a ride like this. You go in thinking your body will be exhausted and your legs won't work, but that's not really a problem. Proper training, eating and a few hours rest and I was eager to go. The real issue is with friction. My butt was killing me and I wasn't the only one.<br /><br />Sitting on a bike seat for 100 miles is uncomfortable. Getting back on the bike seat the next day is downright painful. I know this from both experience and from the numerous people around me that developed cycling induced Tourettes on day two. <br /><br />As I was riding out of the 40 mile rest stop and preparing for the jolt as I got back in the saddle I heard something that changed my perspective on the day. Perhaps an inspiring story about someone with MS powering through the ride? Nope. Something that hit home even more. A man stepped out of a porta potty and announced to everyone within 50 feet "Man do my balls hurt!"<br /><br />Instantly my perspective on the day was improved. Sure my butt hurt in ways I'd not previously imagined it could, but my balls felt fine. Green lights across the board. My spirits went through the roof. "At least my balls don't hurt!" I thought. "How lucky am I?!"<br /><br />I shared the man's comments with other uncomfortable looking male cyclists and it consistently cheered them up. One minute they are swearing like a sailor and the next minute they're smiling, riding faster and rejoicing in the news that their balls didn't hurt either. Men can disagree on just about anything: politics, beer, the right direction for installing toilet paper, but the one thing they all agree with is a day your balls don't hurt is a good day.<br /><br />While Douglas Adams had it at 42, I'm keen to think that it's this sort of perspective that is probably the answer to Life, The Universe and Everything.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Warning Ends</b></div><br /><br />The ride came to an end after a particularly long hill leading into P-Town. A quick shower and a bite to eat later we hopped on a bus back to Boston.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t3POjZ6Lduk/UdQ6JoH4VoI/AAAAAAAAM8s/c19wWYYjAjw/s1600/IMG_20130630_133701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t3POjZ6Lduk/UdQ6JoH4VoI/AAAAAAAAM8s/c19wWYYjAjw/s640/IMG_20130630_133701.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bus ride home. Hills are so much easier this way.</td></tr></tbody></table>Friends and family sponsored me to the tune of $755 and the team I joined, Dottie's Pettlers, raised a whopping $4,195! <b>Thanks to everyone that contributed! You are all awesome!</b><br /><br /><br />Having had some time to reflect on this experience I've come to a few conclusions:<br /><br /><ol><li>I'm glad I did it. 180 miles feels like an accomplishment. Even better that we raised some money to fight MS. </li><li>Training, eating, rest and perspective are the secret to finishing a ride like this. </li><li>I think I'm going to stick to shorter rides in the future. 60 miles seems to be a good distance. Going further than that, the time commitment to training takes away from seeing my family too much.</li><li>That said, the rush you get after a ride like that is amazing. I feel like a duck floating on a cloud. I wonder if I can get that out of a shorter ride?</li><li>Spandex <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-first-century.html">still</a> isn't flattering.</li></ol><br /><br />Ride info links:<br /><ul><li><a href="http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1959957">Saturday RideWithGPS Map</a> - The route plan</li><li><a href="http://runkeeper.com/user/russelldad/activity/201636214">Saturday RunKeeper Activity</a> - The route I actually took</li><li><a href="http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1960308">Sunday RideWithGPS Map</a> </li><li><a href="http://runkeeper.com/user/russelldad/activity/202163948">Sunday RunKeeper Activity</a></li><li><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbikemam.nationalmssociety.org%2Fsite%2FPageServer%3Fpagename%3DBIKE_MAM_Downloads&h=DAQGkAG1v">Bike MS: Cape Cod Getaway Guide</a></li><li><a href="http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/Bike/MAMBikeEvents?px=11618569&pg=personal&fr_id=19418">My National MS Society Sponsor Page</a></li></ul><br /><br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-9733260379597070192013-06-25T19:43:00.000-04:002013-06-25T19:43:23.554-04:00Dexter The Not So Mighty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From the day our pets met there's been a clear pecking order. I just assumed as Dexter grew he'd assert some dominance over the cats. Dexter is now pushing 50 pounds and is quite capable of eating a cat should the thought occur to him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alas, I heard whimpering coming from the kitchen last night. I walked in to discover Tom calmly guarding the water bowl. A fearful Dexter wouldn't get any closer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WgvUmo156Ww/UcjsJkykhcI/AAAAAAAAMmQ/YimNpCvWywQ/s1600/photo+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WgvUmo156Ww/UcjsJkykhcI/AAAAAAAAMmQ/YimNpCvWywQ/s640/photo+(6).jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dexter continues to try to befriend Tom. It's slow going, but Dexter remains hopeful, if a little thirsty.</div><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-26295857576696042482013-06-25T19:32:00.000-04:002013-06-25T19:32:05.935-04:00Last Day of SchoolChristine snapped these picks of the kids as they headed out on their last day of school.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N_-VJ-rHdxI/UcjrRGNR93I/AAAAAAAAMmI/9IMrjg8zzM0/s1600/1009753_10151664622534264_1096235413_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N_-VJ-rHdxI/UcjrRGNR93I/AAAAAAAAMmI/9IMrjg8zzM0/s640/1009753_10151664622534264_1096235413_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex and Conner on their last day of 4th and 1st grade</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uCbEx9iH9OQ/UcjrRF8hneI/AAAAAAAAMl8/qhG6A-PZXiU/s1600/1005127_10151659159849264_960536573_n+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uCbEx9iH9OQ/UcjrRF8hneI/AAAAAAAAMl8/qhG6A-PZXiU/s640/1005127_10151659159849264_960536573_n+(1).jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison on her last day of kindergarden</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And with that summer has officially begun.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-86941149646924825132013-06-20T20:58:00.000-04:002013-06-20T20:58:43.880-04:00Photo of the WeekLast year I took part in the tail end of a photo project for 2012 called the <a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/1844276@N20/#group-info">Image Maker's 52 week photo walks</a>. Here's how it worked.<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Group members take a half hour walk once a week with their camera. Each week members post one image from their walk to share and discuss. Members of the group have attended photography workshops and <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2012/10/night-photography.html">photography tours presented by photographer Dan Splaine</a> of Test of Time Photography in Nashua, NH.</i></blockquote>There's something very therapeutic about making one image to rule them all each week. I joined near the tail end of the 52 weeks at which time the group disbanded never to be spoken of again. Except in the halls of the NSA Prism program where no doubt my picture from week 3 set off some alarms.<br /><br />Here are the images I submitted.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwsW9FzhL74/UavmXuayXbI/AAAAAAAALmQ/e5zo9UTIJVU/s1600/8155996693_44263d9115_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwsW9FzhL74/UavmXuayXbI/AAAAAAAALmQ/e5zo9UTIJVU/s640/8155996693_44263d9115_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Week 1: Conner (center) on the sideline during a soccer game.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vOtnlWOmmZs/UavmcF23SoI/AAAAAAAALm0/0xtd4s5DeMY/s1600/8133007525_5dd44ea3c7_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vOtnlWOmmZs/UavmcF23SoI/AAAAAAAALm0/0xtd4s5DeMY/s640/8133007525_5dd44ea3c7_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Week 2: Found this on a walk through my neighborhood. Lots of great colors before hurricane Sandy came through. This is my first contribution to the Image Makers Group. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r0PNRxTJdgY/UavmXg7OGuI/AAAAAAAALmM/zSr-3GT7sM0/s1600/8206894571_27e63413bc_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r0PNRxTJdgY/UavmXg7OGuI/AAAAAAAALmM/zSr-3GT7sM0/s640/8206894571_27e63413bc_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Week 3: I tried to catch the liftoff of 9 simultaneously launched rockets. Turns out they rarely lift off at the same time.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aOVQ3YXuxxQ/UavmY-DiUII/AAAAAAAALmg/HjxxXo40v-U/s1600/8207986892_5637ed44f3_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aOVQ3YXuxxQ/UavmY-DiUII/AAAAAAAALmg/HjxxXo40v-U/s640/8207986892_5637ed44f3_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Week 4: Caught this guy at my son's birthday party. Surprisingly cute for a skunk.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HH4TdJJNnys/UavmYlN0IKI/AAAAAAAALmc/aUDAWjFEfAo/s1600/8258850419_4598bbf57d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HH4TdJJNnys/UavmYlN0IKI/AAAAAAAALmc/aUDAWjFEfAo/s640/8258850419_4598bbf57d_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Week 5: I was traveling this week and didn't bring my Cannon so I went with the iPhone camera. This was taken after a particularly yummy meal under the influence of a not insignificant amount of sake.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MWQDdKs8_Ls/UavmZQDXM0I/AAAAAAAALms/_FjuIFs2mcI/s1600/8288067182_4c8ba2222a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MWQDdKs8_Ls/UavmZQDXM0I/AAAAAAAALms/_FjuIFs2mcI/s640/8288067182_4c8ba2222a_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">Week 6: Took this photo of my daughter while we waited for Santa. He was driving through town picking up donations for the local food pantry. The thing I like about it most is that she's looking away from the camera. It feels like a moment of innocence. The face paint was at her request. She'd been asking her mom to paint her face for a week.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2oUsQsTyimo/Ub0LK7MBblI/AAAAAAAAMXM/k2LwbL4rQmc/s1600/IMG_0616.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2oUsQsTyimo/Ub0LK7MBblI/AAAAAAAAMXM/k2LwbL4rQmc/s640/IMG_0616.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus image: Took this in my backyard while enjoying a night around the fire pit. It would have been my week 7 submission if the group hadn't closed down. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />The full size images are available in my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/russelldad/sets/72157631930653658/">52 Week Image Makers set</a> on flickr.<br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-38467319284328743402013-06-20T09:40:00.000-04:002013-06-20T09:40:02.858-04:00Right Back At Ya DadOn Fathers day Conner was running around like a mad man. As he passed through the room I said <i>"Conner, you're driving me crazy!"</i> Without missing a beat he responded <i>"Right back at ya Dad."</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ3WimfaHIM/Ub-qQFIqqII/AAAAAAAAMb8/zbclJE4Y79o/s1600/IMG_20130531_083753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ3WimfaHIM/Ub-qQFIqqII/AAAAAAAAMb8/zbclJE4Y79o/s640/IMG_20130531_083753.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unrelated picture of Conner ticking off items as he gave <br />us a tour of his 1st grade class a few weeks back.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-54930358066816268442013-06-17T20:45:00.000-04:002013-06-17T20:45:38.293-04:00The Single Greatest Fathers Day Present In The History Of The World<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Alex mowed the lawn for the first time on Sunday! Woooooo Hoooooo!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r4oyNnb1lY4/Ub-sXtk7gSI/AAAAAAAAMcg/JSyQoMdVB6g/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r4oyNnb1lY4/Ub-sXtk7gSI/AAAAAAAAMcg/JSyQoMdVB6g/s640/photo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-83joysxmy_k/Ub-tJY4x5zI/AAAAAAAAMcs/FNpvnn7yZbg/s1600/IMG_20130616_100329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-83joysxmy_k/Ub-tJY4x5zI/AAAAAAAAMcs/FNpvnn7yZbg/s640/IMG_20130616_100329.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-35755218317596786882013-06-15T20:41:00.000-04:002013-06-15T20:41:38.356-04:00Story Land Vacation 2013We headed out on vacation for <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2011/03/hug-that-took-4-years.html">yet</a> <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/search?q=story+land">another</a> <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2008/09/allison-at-story-land.html">tip</a> to Story Land last week. The kids are getting bigger and we spent a lot of time at the pool. Conner worked on perfecting his pool jumping technique and asked that I post this video "somewhere everyone can see it."<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SKox2A3EbNo" width="640"></iframe></center><br /><br />Eventually we headed out to Story Land. The thing that struck me this year was how much the kids have grown. For example, this is Allison <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2008/09/allison-at-story-land.html">walking under a small bridge at Story Land in 2008</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-buwTvvrdtGU/UbZ_RzrB0mI/AAAAAAAAMOs/3IhQB-B5CrI/s1600/2807161583_0e9bdeab9f_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-buwTvvrdtGU/UbZ_RzrB0mI/AAAAAAAAMOs/3IhQB-B5CrI/s640/2807161583_0e9bdeab9f_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>And this is her a few years later.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VZbnA44z0RI/UbvIHua3qAI/AAAAAAAAMUE/IdIuGRW1zGA/s1600/9038673024_3c83a7d118_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VZbnA44z0RI/UbvIHua3qAI/AAAAAAAAMUE/IdIuGRW1zGA/s640/9038673024_3c83a7d118_o.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br />And this is Allison in the same spot last week.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WFPMqJtHNSA/UbZ_hvbwyZI/AAAAAAAAMO0/4JUnGtloWtI/s1600/IMG_20130608_145122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WFPMqJtHNSA/UbZ_hvbwyZI/AAAAAAAAMO0/4JUnGtloWtI/s640/IMG_20130608_145122.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and Conner at Story Land 2013</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />She's grown up quite a bit, but not too much...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_p6iV2KjVRc/UbZ-XSYRQMI/AAAAAAAAMOc/xSQN27RGK2M/s1600/1593_10151632743599264_1268716141_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_p6iV2KjVRc/UbZ-XSYRQMI/AAAAAAAAMOc/xSQN27RGK2M/s640/1593_10151632743599264_1268716141_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not sure what happened with Conner in this shot. He's usually more photogenic than Barney Stinson, but the rest of the kids are so happy I couldn't leave this one out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KExh5JpXJh8/UbaCrB3EcjI/AAAAAAAAMPE/ENe4jgwGdfw/s1600/IMG_20130608_145518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KExh5JpXJh8/UbaCrB3EcjI/AAAAAAAAMPE/ENe4jgwGdfw/s640/IMG_20130608_145518.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />Fortunately, Conner perked up and decided he wanted a poster to hang on his wall of him on this horse. He named the horse Iron and came up with at least a dozen cool poses.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xf66nMDtaCo/UbaDXbMlmhI/AAAAAAAAMPM/G5Vmw6taeIU/s1600/IMG_20130608_154138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xf66nMDtaCo/UbaDXbMlmhI/AAAAAAAAMPM/G5Vmw6taeIU/s640/IMG_20130608_154138.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conner riding Iron into battle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pM2PX2Pd5cs/UbaDX7_z4gI/AAAAAAAAMPQ/mZjJIKUPYCU/s1600/IMG_20130608_154148+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pM2PX2Pd5cs/UbaDX7_z4gI/AAAAAAAAMPQ/mZjJIKUPYCU/s640/IMG_20130608_154148+(1).jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t87TLY5ycm0/UbaDXmdE4vI/AAAAAAAAMPY/a4qYvcKUdjY/s1600/IMG_20130608_154313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t87TLY5ycm0/UbaDXmdE4vI/AAAAAAAAMPY/a4qYvcKUdjY/s640/IMG_20130608_154313.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I even got a shot at riding Iron into battle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9TG_jp5pY0/UbaD2AhhiWI/AAAAAAAAMPs/65x2ILm-k08/s1600/IMG_20130609_112436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9TG_jp5pY0/UbaD2AhhiWI/AAAAAAAAMPs/65x2ILm-k08/s640/IMG_20130609_112436.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />We had lunch at the place Sara lovingly refers to as the "Turkish Food Court of Pain." Immediately thereafter, the boys took me on those spinning tea cups from hell. Alex bet I couldn't make it go faster than he could. I took the bait and after showing him who was boss I spent the next few mintes desperately trying not to hurl.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wl-yRlp9x3k/UbvKnZ6sWFI/AAAAAAAAMUU/kL2w8ZF3K6U/s1600/IMG_20130609_121142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wl-yRlp9x3k/UbvKnZ6sWFI/AAAAAAAAMUU/kL2w8ZF3K6U/s640/IMG_20130609_121142.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am a grown man with three children and I have no excuse <br />for the level of stupidity I demonstrate every time I get on these damn teacups. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />In happier news Emily got over her <a href="http://russelldad.blogspot.com/2011/03/hug-that-took-4-years.html">fear of the Polar Coaster</a> and took her dad on it over, and over, and over.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jclCxbf1TIk/UbaEgeuWljI/AAAAAAAAMP0/HQYQm2Z0MWk/s1600/IMG_20130610_071527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jclCxbf1TIk/UbaEgeuWljI/AAAAAAAAMP0/HQYQm2Z0MWk/s640/IMG_20130610_071527.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emily and John rrockin the Polar Coaster</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While we're on the topic of the Polar Coaster, check out this action shot I took with my phone. I'm quite impressed with my photo skills. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lbxgiJH8YI4/UbaE04kS5_I/AAAAAAAAMQA/HEqBeTc2iHo/s1600/IMG_20130608_163652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lbxgiJH8YI4/UbaE04kS5_I/AAAAAAAAMQA/HEqBeTc2iHo/s640/IMG_20130608_163652.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christine and Alex on the Polar Coaster</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Most importantly, Christine and Allison managed to continue their tradition of sharing a blue slushy specifically so they could turn their tongues blue. Here they are in 2009.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MqVYY0K7jhQ/UbvM83KtjLI/AAAAAAAAMUk/GC8yJzP5VbI/s1600/9038605682_7338b0387c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MqVYY0K7jhQ/UbvM83KtjLI/AAAAAAAAMUk/GC8yJzP5VbI/s640/9038605682_7338b0387c_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and Christine 2009</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />And here they are celebrating their birthday in style last week.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bV2XGX5-oMI/UbvNNPfD4tI/AAAAAAAAMUs/SyGv3Mh3rn0/s1600/9036389565_44498f518c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bV2XGX5-oMI/UbvNNPfD4tI/AAAAAAAAMUs/SyGv3Mh3rn0/s640/9036389565_44498f518c_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and Christine 2013</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br />All in all it was a great trip. More pictures from this year's vacation are on <a href="https://plus.google.com/photos/106990261622912298990/albums/5887259115052587313?authkey=CN-57qazssaQ8wE">Google+</a> and a bunch from this and previous years are on <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/russelldad/sets/72157634110596657/">flickr</a>.<br /><br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-13980014853863394012013-05-25T20:53:00.000-04:002013-05-28T09:07:27.453-04:00Welcome Home Dexter!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vcN7G0MguqY/UY6CIEkcf0I/AAAAAAAAK7U/X6G2K7lrlq8/s1600/IMG_1760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vcN7G0MguqY/UY6CIEkcf0I/AAAAAAAAK7U/X6G2K7lrlq8/s320/IMG_1760.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dexter Tiberius Russell</td></tr></tbody></table>Allison has been pressing us to get a dog for about a year. When winter hit we told her we'd discuss it in the spring. So the first day the temperature went over 45 degrees Allison hopped out of her seat at the dinner table, asked politely to sit on my lap and, completely without preamble, proceeded to explain her plan to me.<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">"Daddy, you can have your friends come over to help put up the fence and then we can go out and get some toys and mommy can get some food and water and we'll put it in the garage..."</blockquote><br />I still have no idea what she's talking about at this point.<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">"... and then you can go get it and hide it in the garage while I'm sleeping and when I wake up in the morning we'll go down and POOF we'll have a dog!"</blockquote>Three weeks later Dexter came home. Allison can be very convincing when she wants to be. Those people at the UN could really use someone with her skills.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3XNiyz-Ss5M/UaFVNrfSl0I/AAAAAAAALWw/SEuWFctRmsY/s1600/947C5353-7F55-48FC-92DD-B800A57434E8+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3XNiyz-Ss5M/UaFVNrfSl0I/AAAAAAAALWw/SEuWFctRmsY/s640/947C5353-7F55-48FC-92DD-B800A57434E8+(2).JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and Dexter</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Dexter was born December 31st, 2012. That means he's a puppy and he likes to eat things. Fortunately he's decided not to eat the cats.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E-YeeCYN38A/UaFXyoLcFvI/AAAAAAAALX8/eFPEzeQfKcY/s1600/dexter+and+tom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E-YeeCYN38A/UaFXyoLcFvI/AAAAAAAALX8/eFPEzeQfKcY/s640/dexter+and+tom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dexter and Thomas hanging out.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Dexter is possibly the most well tempered friendly dog I've ever met. It's like we won the lottery of dogs. Or perhaps I've just gotten used to the indifference of cats. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uzbIZ616uto/UaFZTElfRqI/AAAAAAAALYM/MD0lah-_dqk/s1600/IMG_1778+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uzbIZ616uto/UaFZTElfRqI/AAAAAAAALYM/MD0lah-_dqk/s640/IMG_1778+2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />Either way Dexter is a great dog. He's friendly to everyone, basically ignores the cats, listens extremely well and so far hasn't eaten anything too valuable. I've asked him to eat one of the kids, but he seems to have the good judgement to know when to listen and when ignore me.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RPE9RyT4xS8/UaFanQdAeEI/AAAAAAAALYk/dXmK2uukQwI/s1600/IMG_1757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RPE9RyT4xS8/UaFanQdAeEI/AAAAAAAALYk/dXmK2uukQwI/s640/IMG_1757.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />So Allison has her puppy, we have a new family member, and I get to see stuff like this happen.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pf5mpNGRlw/UaFZl9FW_jI/AAAAAAAALYU/zwVI8FLjeXE/s1600/IMG_20130507_183543+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9pf5mpNGRlw/UaFZl9FW_jI/AAAAAAAALYU/zwVI8FLjeXE/s640/IMG_20130507_183543+(1).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison and Dexter in a field.</td></tr></tbody></table>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-68533658790808510512013-04-21T23:36:00.002-04:002013-04-23T22:27:04.066-04:00Boston Maraton - What We Do Next Will Define Us<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPApSSwQVVs/UXSdh9u31bI/AAAAAAAAKDU/4-QSVySW0OY/s1600/MeTmTmN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPApSSwQVVs/UXSdh9u31bI/AAAAAAAAKDU/4-QSVySW0OY/s320/MeTmTmN.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Credit <a href="http://imgur.com/MeTmTmN">afritos93</a></td></tr></tbody></table>My friend said "Hey let's go watch the Marathon". That's how I ended up there the day I moved to Massachusetts 14 years ago. It seemed like a somewhat odd thing to do, but the moment I saw Guy With Beer Hat Motivator running next to a guy in a Santa Claus outfit it was clear that this was more than just a race. It was a deeply rooted city tradition.<br /><br />Every year I've said I was going to take the day off and go see the Marathon, and every year for 13 years I've found myself consumed by work and missed it. This year was no different.<br /><br />Then the bombs went off and four days later the city of Boston was shut down as the authorities tracked the suspects. Through determination and a little luck the Boston PD managed to catch one of the suspects alive and the feeling of relief was palpable as people took to the streets to cheer the police.<br /><br />That week of immense tension is behind us and many would say that Boston handled it very well. <a href="https://twitter.com/_Happy_Gilmore/status/325227169636818944">Happy Gilmore</a> quite accurately pointed out:<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_86MkfFc-ck/UXSLRXePHrI/AAAAAAAAKDM/o2GciAPEnCc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-20+at+9.36.21+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Boston is probably the only major city that if you fuck with them, they will shut down the whole city...stop everything.. and find you."" border="0" height="166" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_86MkfFc-ck/UXSLRXePHrI/AAAAAAAAKDM/o2GciAPEnCc/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-20+at+9.36.21+PM.png" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>There's probably a good debate to be had as to whether we should have instantiated martial law. In my opinion, if Bostonians had been out on the streets a lot more people likely would have hurt each other, by accident, while we hunted the suspect. Moreover, the suspect would most certainly have been beaten to death with his own limbs and wouldn't have been able to answer any questions. So all in all, I think the authorities made the right call.<br /><br />But now the immediate crisis has passed and we have to decide how we will react in the aftermath. What we do next, how we treat this suspect, and how we react to these events is what defines us as Americans.<br /><br />In the past we've made some very bad decisions in the aftermath of tragedy. For example: The internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II and the torture of detainees after September 11th 2001.<br /><br /><div style="margin-left: 5em; margin-right: 5em;"><i>Note: If there's any question in your mind about whether we tortured people you can get a clear as day "Yes. Lots of people, and it didn't produce any useful intelligence." from the recently released bipartisan report at <a href="http://detaineetaskforce.org/">http://detaineetaskforce.org/</a>. If you're not up for reading, the <a href="http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-april-17-2013/zero-dark-hurty">Daily Show did a chilling 4 minute overview</a> of the report.</i></div><br /><br />With the immediate Marathon crisis over, we need to take a breath and think. Do we want to repeat the mistakes of our past, or should we demonstrate how Americans hold true to our ideals?<br /><br />I ask because we already have people saying the sorts of reactionary things that lead us to the mistakes of internment and torture. For example:<br /><br /><ul><li>Senator Lindsey Graham and others are <a href="http://www.politico.com/story/2013/04/lindsey-graham-enemy-combatant-90365.html">calling on the President</a> to classify the suspect, a Naturalized American Citizen, an Enemy Combatant. That's basically the play we run in order to justify torturing people. </li><li>Meanwhile, Representative Peter King, who chairs the House subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence, is saying we need to <a href="http://www.nationalreview.com/corner/346125/gop-congressman-%E2%80%98increase-surveillance%E2%80%99-muslim-community">surveil Muslims and treat Chechnya as a front in the war on terror</a> because the suspect was a Muslim and an Ethnic Chechen. That's the exact sort of sound logic that had us locking up Japanese Americans in WWII. </li></ul><br />We've done these sorts of things before and history has shown them to be grave mistakes.<br /><br />Let me be clear. This 19 year old bomber is an unconscionable douchebag of the highest order. With acknowledgment to the fact that he's technically innocent until proven guilty, he has already been shot in the neck and leg, and it's safe to say he's never going to see the outside of a very dark prison again in his life. Furthermore, if there's any karmic justice in the universe, this kid is going to end up as Jerry Sandusky's cell mate.<br /><br />His fate is sealed, but ours isn't. What we do next defines us.<br /><br />Whether he experiences our existing laws or some made up reactionary process will not define him. It will define who we are as Americans. Moreover it will signal to the world the kind of a people we really are.<br /><br />For that reason it is more important that we stay true to our laws and values now, with this horrible suspect, more than ever. Only under stress can the real measure of a people be taken. Only under stress can we prove to ourselves, and the world, that the American ideals really have meaning.<br /><br />The people of Boston ran to help the bombing victims, and worked together flawlessly under extreme stress to capture the suspect alive. Boston citizens and their police rose to the occasion so admirably that it far exceeds my ability to put their actoins into words.<br /><br />I for one want America to be a country that responds admirably and holds to its ideals in the aftermath as well. We must remain true to our laws and values as we prosecute this suspect. Furthermore, we can't let the actions of a few sick people trick us into isolating people of a similar ethnicity or religion as the suspects. To do so would be to fail to uphold the ideals of our country. It dishonors the people that fight and have fought to protect this country, and it signals to the world that the ideals we speak of really don't matter even to us.<br /><br />To that end I have a few suggestions:<br /><br /><ul><li style="font-weight: bold;"><b><b>Words to Heed</b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> - Take the president's words to heart. </span><i style="font-weight: normal;">"When a tragedy like this happens … it's important that we do this right. That's why we have investigations. That's why we relentlessly gather the facts. That's why we have courts. That's why we take care not to rush to judgment -- not about motivations of individuals, certainly not about entire groups of people."</i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> - </span><a href="http://nbcpolitics.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/04/19/17830759-obama-weve-closed-an-important-chapter-in-this-tragedy?lite" style="font-weight: normal;">President Obama Friday April 19, 2013</a>. </b>Three specific things we can do here:</li><ol style="margin-left: 3em;"><li><b style="font-weight: bold;">Learn from 9/11</b><b> - </b>Lock Lindsey Graham in a room with a history book and refuse to let him out until he can explain why the idea of naming American Citizens enemy combatants, in order to extract information out of them, doesn't work and is a really bad idea. </li><li><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b>Don't Blame an Entire Religion</b> - </span>Representative Peter King wants to increase surveillance on Muslims because the suspect is a Muslim. Listen to the reaction of the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=by_CJrD7r_c">suspects Uncle being interviewed last week</a>. He's a Muslim too and seems like a very good guy. If we're going to stereotype an entire religion, why not stereotype based on him instead of his nephew. </li><li><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b>Pick Better Leaders</b> - </span>For the sake of national security, and our country's soul, have Representative Peter King fitted with a permanent ball gag. While technically it is his first amendment right to say things that history has repeatedly proven to be horrible ideas, it's his job to lead and based on the things he's saying we'd all be better off if he just stopped talking. </li></ol><li><b style="font-weight: bold;">Miranda Rights</b><b style="font-weight: bold;"> - </b>Don't worry about the fact that we didn't read the suspect his Maranda Rights. Legally the government doesn't have to read a suspect their Maranda rights. It's just that if rights aren't read the government can't use what a suspect says against him in court. Orin Kerr did a great writeup on <a href="http://www.volokh.com/2013/04/20/tsarnaev-and-miranda-rights/">Tsarnaev and Miranda Rights</a>. So the question is "Are we going to have to let this guy off because we didn't read him his rights?" And the answer is "No." Based on the piles of evidence coming from the events of this week including shootout that took place on the boat where he was taken into custody, we won't need this suspect to confess to anything to prove him guilty. So skip Maranda and get every bit of information out of him we can (without torturing him). It won't change his fate and it might help ours.</li><li><b style="font-weight: bold;">Use the Perspective We Didn't Want</b><b style="font-weight: bold;"> - </b>Take a moment to think about how horrible the Marathon Bombing was... Really think about it. Now consider the fact we have killed 160 civilian children in Pakistan with 242 drone bombings since May of 2010. (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drone_attacks_in_Pakistan">Source</a>) This isn't meant as a comparison, but as a chance for us to use the horrible gift of perspective that was forced on us this week. With this first hand knowledge of what it feels like to have someone blow up your fellow citizens, can you imagine how angry families of drone bombing victims must be with us when we bomb them once every 4.5 days? Perhaps it's time we stop bombing civilians ourselves. </li></ul><ol><ol padding-left:3em=""></ol></ol><br /><div><div><br /></div><div>This past week has left a painful mark on Boston, but it also revealed the stellar character of this city and its people. It's my sincere hope that we continue to show that same character in the months that follow.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--FY6rZI__Qo/UXSd_eq8znI/AAAAAAAAKDc/NNrDjI18jhY/s1600/b_strong_white-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--FY6rZI__Qo/UXSd_eq8znI/AAAAAAAAKDc/NNrDjI18jhY/s1600/b_strong_white-1.jpg" /></a></div></div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-16396255879170484782013-04-06T17:16:00.000-04:002013-05-08T20:58:06.329-04:00Milk Bubble Blowing - No ContestWe had an impromptu bubble blowing contest at lunch today. It all started when Conner did what came naturally with a cup of chocolate milk and a straw. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jlmTDU2Ezys/UWCOjmzfmrI/AAAAAAAAJjw/JUL3ry9vKfs/s1600/Photo+Apr+06,+12+38+49+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jlmTDU2Ezys/UWCOjmzfmrI/AAAAAAAAJjw/JUL3ry9vKfs/s640/Photo+Apr+06,+12+38+49+PM.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Having never understood why blowing bubbles is discouraged, I embraced my inner child and cheered him on. Alex and Allison quickly joined in. <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H7NETJopmZg/UWCOj83DS9I/AAAAAAAAJj0/rxhN0vSaQZI/s1600/Photo+Apr+06,+12+45+48+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H7NETJopmZg/UWCOj83DS9I/AAAAAAAAJj0/rxhN0vSaQZI/s640/Photo+Apr+06,+12+45+48+PM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />It turned into a bit of a contest. We rated the kids on best blowing sound effects and sheer bubble volume, Conner won. It wasn't even close. <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wVppaaJlP-U/UWCOkC-rnyI/AAAAAAAAJj8/16ettFX4QsQ/s1600/Photo+Apr+06,+12+45+54+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wVppaaJlP-U/UWCOkC-rnyI/AAAAAAAAJj8/16ettFX4QsQ/s640/Photo+Apr+06,+12+45+54+PM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-25613350048033513922013-03-27T21:05:00.000-04:002013-03-27T21:05:16.937-04:00Lego Space ShuttleLast weekend Alex and I found ourselves alone at home. I had just finished a fairly exhausting round of disc golf and after slogging through 6" snow and ice for 18 holes I was ready to sit for a while. So we decided to build the Lego Space Shuttle. Alex took care of the boosters, fuel tank, and satellite while I built the shuttle.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WjVdo_Hp6W0/UVGZoC4lraI/AAAAAAAAJIc/luYgOiNgpRM/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WjVdo_Hp6W0/UVGZoC4lraI/AAAAAAAAJIc/luYgOiNgpRM/s640/IMG_1647.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex showing off our completed shuttle</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Afterwards we watched youtube videos of the actual shuttles taking off, landing and docking with satellites. Then Alex insisted on recreating some of the videos with legos.<br /><br />It was pretty amazing to see how much technology has changed in the last 20 years. The shuttle really is an antique at this point. Still, it made for a really fun lego project.Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-56286227072579236842013-03-18T23:51:00.000-04:002013-03-18T23:51:58.206-04:00Sexy and I Know ItI've been playing music one way or another since the sixth grade, but this has to go down as one of the most hilarious moments I've ever had on stage. Thanks to John and Rob for their mad backup skills. There's really nothing else to add.<br /><br />So without further adue, here's our cover of <a href="http://noahguthrie.com/">Noah Guthrie's</a> cover, of LMFAO's "Sexy And I Know It" at Beth's open mic this winter. <br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FR9DydfF0ZA" width="640"></iframe></center>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-11154978659419316062013-03-17T21:34:00.000-04:002013-03-17T21:34:02.591-04:00Acton TV Station Identification - Tiger Cub StyleA few weeks ago Conner's Tiger Cub den recorded <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Q5_u8pKOpc">this station identification video</a> for Acton TV. It's only 20 seconds and Conner throws in his usual flair at the end.<br /><br /> <br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1Q5_u8pKOpc" width="480"></iframe></center><br /><br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-63150979914101870012013-02-26T17:56:00.002-05:002013-02-26T17:56:41.338-05:00Splatter Zone - The Single Most Important Sign In All of Florida<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rr1t7Ycov7w/US06U5LGp-I/AAAAAAAAILQ/a-GPAr82-qs/s1600/231F2A70-80C9-49D1-8AA8-520681A92898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rr1t7Ycov7w/US06U5LGp-I/AAAAAAAAILQ/a-GPAr82-qs/s640/231F2A70-80C9-49D1-8AA8-520681A92898.JPG" width="494" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Splatter Zone</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I saw this sign at Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park in Florida this week with the family. It is posted outside the habitat of a 53 year old, 6000lb hippo named Lu. Signs, signs everywhere there's signs... Still, this is one to heed.</div>Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-2701696563868441672013-02-10T17:18:00.000-05:002013-02-10T17:18:49.133-05:00The Day After Snowmageddon - Museum of Science We went to the Museum of Science today. Only a few other families had the same idea so it was like we had the whole place to ourselves. The view of the Charles River was perfect.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iKhasDGplLk/URgYpDSu2VI/AAAAAAAAHAQ/ul44X9zi1SQ/s1600/IMG_1264+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="416" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iKhasDGplLk/URgYpDSu2VI/AAAAAAAAHAQ/ul44X9zi1SQ/s640/IMG_1264+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Charles River as seen from the Cafeteria at the Boston Museum of Science</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9LkX32GMa7g/URgX9plgWoI/AAAAAAAAHAI/ImTFy2VEwIQ/s1600/IMG_1259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9LkX32GMa7g/URgX9plgWoI/AAAAAAAAHAI/ImTFy2VEwIQ/s640/IMG_1259.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Charles River goodness.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And of course we stopped for Dippin Dots as is tradition.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RNniMQfmu08/URgWueoX76I/AAAAAAAAHAA/JAjuBhchVtg/s1600/IMG_1273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RNniMQfmu08/URgWueoX76I/AAAAAAAAHAA/JAjuBhchVtg/s640/IMG_1273.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>There aren't any other pictures from the day because we were too busy having fun.Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-67864123238948260332013-02-10T17:17:00.000-05:002013-02-10T17:17:37.530-05:00Snowmageddon 2013 It snowed this weekend. I think mother nature was making up for the last 2 winters of a poor snow showing. We sent the kids out to shovel early in the storm.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FD0r5a0oPDU/URgJ2K8ydsI/AAAAAAAAG-A/v5f54ALIHKk/s1600/2812F708-17F9-4A92-A193-0D2DED2DED2F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FD0r5a0oPDU/URgJ2K8ydsI/AAAAAAAAG-A/v5f54ALIHKk/s640/2812F708-17F9-4A92-A193-0D2DED2DED2F.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shoveling Chaos Theory</td></tr></tbody></table>Govener Patrick signed an executive order banning cars from the road starting at 4pm on Friday. Anyone caught driving faced the wrath of the Mass Transit Authority. They are not to be screwed with.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PO3jASufQlo/URgN_7u9iCI/AAAAAAAAG-o/QyWylPnG3CY/s1600/IMG_1211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PO3jASufQlo/URgN_7u9iCI/AAAAAAAAG-o/QyWylPnG3CY/s1600/IMG_1211.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source unknown. Hope they brought a tow-cable.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The snow really picked up after dark. We woke up to find a winter wonderland covered by 2 more feet of snow. By way of example, this is our backyard in the fall.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HUHdWDYdUZA/URgLe_SjdPI/AAAAAAAAG-I/KObF_-jRr_4/s1600/8133078972_4e49a5164b_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HUHdWDYdUZA/URgLe_SjdPI/AAAAAAAAG-I/KObF_-jRr_4/s640/8133078972_4e49a5164b_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casa de Russell in the Fall</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> And this is the same backyard the morning after the storm.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cLkTZ_KvkN0/URgMCCZQukI/AAAAAAAAG-Q/UW4qM3ZEdKY/s1600/IMG_1461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cLkTZ_KvkN0/URgMCCZQukI/AAAAAAAAG-Q/UW4qM3ZEdKY/s640/IMG_1461.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casa de Russell February 9th, 2013 at 10am</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was so close! The snow almost reached the swing seats.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OD2AHIjsan8/URgMmyLfixI/AAAAAAAAG-Y/p67YYyCFkRg/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OD2AHIjsan8/URgMmyLfixI/AAAAAAAAG-Y/p67YYyCFkRg/s640/IMG_1462.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br />Before the storm the kids and I carried plants and the grill onto our screened in deck. The snow didn't much care as it came right through the screens.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTYPJPIf7g0/URgNPjQKMjI/AAAAAAAAG-g/VAqUUSAeDlo/s1600/IMG_1450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTYPJPIf7g0/URgNPjQKMjI/AAAAAAAAG-g/VAqUUSAeDlo/s640/IMG_1450.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's not supposed to be snow in there!<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The view out our front window the next morning was moderately intimidating.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7UM3gnxVqU/URgTK7Bt5mI/AAAAAAAAG_o/4JWG-6B8pnc/s1600/IMG_1455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7UM3gnxVqU/URgTK7Bt5mI/AAAAAAAAG_o/4JWG-6B8pnc/s640/IMG_1455.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those mail boxes are on 4 foot posts!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-paYheG-s5eo/URgTfA-L90I/AAAAAAAAG_w/9S2C1lZPLBI/s1600/IMG_1456_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-paYheG-s5eo/URgTfA-L90I/AAAAAAAAG_w/9S2C1lZPLBI/s640/IMG_1456_2.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where did our stairs go?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The shoveling began in earnest at 10am on Saturday. I don't think we're going to be playing hoops any time soon.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiGJus3Mtow/URgRek2ow8I/AAAAAAAAG_M/BHFo66BB0-w/s1600/IMG_1249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiGJus3Mtow/URgRek2ow8I/AAAAAAAAG_M/BHFo66BB0-w/s640/IMG_1249.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 2 point shot. 10 points if you can rebound.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The most daunting part was digging out the fire hydrant. Between the epic snow and the plows doing their bit, it was a deep, heavy mess. The only thing I could think of when I finished clearing this out was "Suck on that mother nature." I'm sure I'll regret that sentiment.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wCtZ0AS4LgU/URgPmbMkA2I/AAAAAAAAG_A/X3feBOQkVm4/s1600/IMG_1240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wCtZ0AS4LgU/URgPmbMkA2I/AAAAAAAAG_A/X3feBOQkVm4/s640/IMG_1240.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I win.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Christine and I put in a solid 2 hours shoveling.<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MV5gD9B6WI4/URgRevNZyyI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/X4u2G-h302U/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MV5gD9B6WI4/URgRevNZyyI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/X4u2G-h302U/s640/IMG_1242.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Done shoveling and still capable of lifting my arms to take a picture. WIN.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />After shoveling I sat in front of the fire and did absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. It was everything I dreamt it could be.<br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10023040.post-82098582909057694682013-01-13T21:14:00.000-05:002013-01-13T21:14:14.506-05:00The Anniversary DragonChristine and I celebrated our 11 year anniversary yesterday. Pretty cool!<br /><br />The kids got us a joint present. Normally "joint present" means "something Christine will love" like a new soup terrien or Foie Gras flattener. I don't even know what Foie Gras is and much less why you'd want to flatten it, but you get the gist. The rule is: joint presents are meant for the wife, not the husband.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rIxtUqS8J6o/UPHD6vCJAHI/AAAAAAAAF0c/6PZQQDuvztY/s1600/4E59A118-D0BC-4AB4-83FA-000C9603C97A.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rIxtUqS8J6o/UPHD6vCJAHI/AAAAAAAAF0c/6PZQQDuvztY/s320/4E59A118-D0BC-4AB4-83FA-000C9603C97A.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It turns out that there's a little known loophole in the "joint present" rule that applies to gifts given on the 11th anniversary, purchased (in name) by the children as a proxy for their mother who had previously agreed not to exchange gifts because we just bought each other a really nice couch. In that case the joint gift is for the husband! And on this anniversary it came in the form of 7 frisbee golf discs!<br /><br />Sweet!<br /><br />Now as cool as this joint gift was it was superseded by Conner's description of who brought the present. He was under the impression no one in the family was allowed to give presents on this anniversary so he invented the Anniversary Dragon.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wv_vfoa0y4g/UPMbsfgEXQI/AAAAAAAAF4c/M7hrZl9NHds/s1600/97538A4C-28C3-45CC-809A-D27C79DD149A.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wv_vfoa0y4g/UPMbsfgEXQI/AAAAAAAAF4c/M7hrZl9NHds/s640/97538A4C-28C3-45CC-809A-D27C79DD149A.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conner's depiction of the Anniversary Dragon (left) - Tom craving attention (right)<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />According to Conner, the Anniversary Dragon is like Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny and is allowed to give anybody anything it wants. Also, it eats crystals instead of cookies.<br /><br />I foresee a big future for the Anniversary Dragon in our family, thanks to Conner.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BF6fweTA6F8/UPNllGtVyYI/AAAAAAAAF50/GNKhDQt-buM/s1600/IMG_1087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BF6fweTA6F8/UPNllGtVyYI/AAAAAAAAF50/GNKhDQt-buM/s640/IMG_1087.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><br />Paul Russellhttps://plus.google.com/106990261622912298990noreply@blogger.com0