Libby With a "Y"

Quel Dommage, Can Can!

2012-01-17T03:27:00.000-08:00

Can Can Brasserie has been one of my favorite Richmond restaurants since it opened about 7-8 years ago. It has been almost a sacred place for me. I've been there for many a birthday celebration, including several of my own. I've been there with local friends and brought lots of out-of-town friends. I've treated myself by going there alone to write; I've literally got the tote bag and given it as gifts. I've been there for brunch, lunch, and dinner and even met friends there for coffee and a pastry. If I'm passing by, I at least pop in a get a baguette. It was the first place where Daddy Mac and I went out by ourselves after having Sam. When Sam was three, we went there for brunch so many times he started to call it Candy Can. You got it, right? We loved the place! Daddy Mac and I have both lived in France for a bit and are big Francophiles. Heck, I was even a French major. It was no wonder that my sister in Boston gave us a gift certificate there for Christmas.

So, on with the story. Yesterday we went to the Mummy Exhibit at the VMFA which was neat. Then we headed to Can Can for lunch. Still thinking of the fresh new year, Daddy Mac and I both decided to order something on the healthy side. He got the salmon salad, and I got one of the "plats to de la semaine" (plates of the week). It was lobster with leeks, bok choy, and a side salad. My salad arrived which consisted of only lettuce. That's OK -- I knew that when ordering. I absolutely love their traditional greens and house dressing! Well, the problem was there was hardly any lettuce in my lettuce-only salad. That was a bit odd. Underneath that lettuce lay a small piece of toast, which was even more odd. Was that supposed to be an enormous crouton? Was it there to make it seem as if there was more lettuce than there actually was? I have no idea.

The entrees came, and I quickly realized the three or four tiny pieces of lobster could not have weighed more than an ounce. There wasn't a whole lot of the bok choy/leek combo either. Daddy Mac took one look at it and said that I could have some of his greens. I figured that it would probably be more filling than it looked. Well, his entree looked just about as paltry. Once again his salad had barely any lettuce and a tiny piece of salmon. Is there a lettuce shortage in the kitchen? For the first time since I've known Daddy Mac, he ate everything on his plate, including all the greens. Well, that's because there really wasn't much on his plate at the start. Our waiter was very good and very busy, so we left him a nice tip. It wasn't his fault after all.

After leaving, the whole situation just didn't sit right with me. Besides the fact that we were still pretty hungry was one thing, but there was the distinct feeling of having been ripped off. After a $50 lunch, you should not be just as hungry as when you walked in, if not more so. We literally went to the McDonald's drive-thru, and I devoured my hamburger in no time flat. It was yummy.

When we got home, I wanted to say or do something. I found Can Can's Facebook page and left a post on their wall. It said, "We just had lunch there. I know French portions are small; I lived there for a year. This was ridiculous! We literally went to the McDonald's drive-thru afterwards. Boy, did that hamburger taste good!" I figured I would get some sort of response like, "We are sorry you feel that way. We certainly don't want our customers to be so dissatisfied. Blah, blah, blah."

Well, I checked back two hours later to see if there was any response from the restaurant. Not only was there no response whatsoever, but my post was GONE! POOF! There was rien, nada, nothing, no sign of it. It had been deleted. I couldn't believe it - I even tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they would send a follow-up email back to me personally. Nope.

C'est vrai? That's how they treat customers with a complaint? They just delete them? Besides the fact that I'm on the hunt for a new favorite restaurant in Richmond, I'm very disappointed and sad. It's like losing a good friend. Ah, quel dommage, Can Can. What a pity.

LibbY

Boys Will Be Boys

2012-01-15T16:36:00.000-08:00

Before having Sam, I never really bought into gender stereotypes about girls and boys. Now I get it. Oh, do I ever! Ah, the communication -- or the lack thereof. He tells me NOTHING about school. Really -- absolutely nothing. I ask, "How was your day?"

He responds, "The usual."

"Well, what's the usual?" I ask.

"Just the usual," he maintains. Nope, I'm not getting a dang thing out of him, at most an offbeat mention of a kid who holding up the class line or interfering with his LEGO building during center time. (The nerve!)

A friend's son is one of Sam's buddies in class. While we were chatting one day, she mentioned something in passing about her son having thrown up at school the week before -- in the middle of lunch no less.

"WHAT?! I never heard that?" I exclaimed. Heck, Sam and her son eat at the same table across from each other! How could anyone miss that one? So when Sam came home from school that day, I asked him, "Did your friend throw up at lunch?"

"Yeah," he answered, all nonchalant. Then a few beats later, he continued, "I WATCHED him throw up at lunch." And off he sauntered to construct his twelfth LEGO creation of the day. (It's a game.)

Then again this week I found out this same friend of his had been out sick all week long with pneumonia. "Did you know that your friend has been sick all week?" I asked.

"Yeah. Sometimes he comes in during the mornings."

End of questioning.

It's a good thing he's a boy because he'd never make it as a girl.

LibbY

A Quick Trip to Korea

2012-01-12T15:35:00.000-08:00

Today my lunch buddy Denise and I took a quick trip to Korea -- via a local restaurant, the Korean Garden. Yes, just a quick spin down Midlothian Turnpike (with lots of stoplights) did the trick. Man, it sure does beat being on a plane for 15+ hours, the jet lag, and the pollution. Miraculously this restaurant looks, feels, smells, and tastes just like being in Korea. (Well, thankfully they didn't have some of the smells on hand. Some need to stay in Korea.) The menu's in Korean, and the Korean waitresses even wear the traditional dress called the "hanbok." This place would be perfect for Busch Gardens if they ever decide to add a "Korea" section.

Being there makes me sentimental because I lived in Seoul "back in the day" from 1994-95 when I was in the Army JAG Corps. Oh my! Just did the math --it's hard to believe that was 17 years ago, give or take a year, of course!! Wow - that makes me dizzy, even without any OB mekju (beer) or soju (like vodka, but sweeter.) It's amazing how a few details, like kimchi served in some little white bowls, can really take you back somewhere in time and somewhere in space with friends you haven't seen or talked to in years. And, no, Facebook doesn't count.

There is also an adjoining Korean grocery store which is the real deal, although thankfully not as cramped as in Korea. It's so wild to see the familiar packaging in Hangul, the Korean alphabet. It's all there -- seaweed, dumplings, rice and noodles galore, dried fish, lots of kimchi-flavored noodles, and countless UFOs (unidentified food objects.) It's not just groceries; it's an intercultural adventure!

Much to my delight, they had my all-time favorite on hand -- Korean popsicles that taste exactly like honeydew melon. As I picked one out of the freezer, I thought better of it and reached in for a second. That way I could give one to Sam -- and not have to share my own! (The truth hurts!) Plus now I can tell Sam that he is an adventurous eater -- trying Korean food! OK, it's just ice cream, but it's a start for the boy who eats spaghetti with absolutely nothing on it every night of the week.

Now I've got a little piece of Korea at home -- leftovers! Of course the mere smell of it will repulse Daddy Mac, which means I won't have to share. The big bag of dumplings is fair game, though. After all it's just a quick trip to Korea to restock!

LibbY

P.S. Thanks for your birthday lunch, Denise! Note: That story is a another blog in itself.

Drifty's Snowball Soup

2011-12-21T18:52:00.000-08:00

And to think we'd never had snowball soup until today. It sure is good, especially when cooked up by Drifty the Snowman himself. Continuing one of our favorite Christmas traditions again this year, we went to see the latest Paul Deiss play at Swift Creek Mill Theatre with our friends "Miss" Dawn and Nathan. This was our fourth year, hard to believe.

Gosh, I hope Sam doesn't outgrow them for a long time because I don't think I ever will. At least now he can continue to be my cover. You see, I can make it seem as if I'm only going for his benefit, the whole dedicated mother schtick, but I absolutely love these plays just as much as he does, possibly more.

Paul Deiss has been writing these Christmas plays every year for the past 19 years. Each play has the same lovably crazy characters involved and places them in a different madcap adventures. The backdrop is always at the Claus' house up at the North Pole in the hubbub right before Christmas. Just seeing the sweet set when we walk in every year makes me smile. And unlike a Disney movie, nobody's mother dies. How refreshing!

There's Cowboy Jim, Pepita the Elf, Drifty the Snowman, Mrs. Claus, and usually some sort of late appearance by Santa Claus, sometimes even by chimney! (He's busy after all this time of year!) Somehow the sweetly air-headed Drifty manages to steal the show with his silly antics, so silly that even the kids are laughing uproariously at how silly he is. Drfity has some problems getting the drift, so to speak. And there is plenty of adult-laced humor woven into the story to keep the parents cackling just as loudly.

We've absolutely loved every year, but today's may have been our all-time favorite. Then again we do say that every year. There was a hilarious guest star, the ever-perky Darla Bean from the "Cooking With Darla Bean, Starring Darla Bean Show," a hilarious spoof on Paula Deen's Southern cooking persona. Mrs. Claus had won a spot on her show to make her famous gingerbread cookies, and Darla came up North to film it. Lo and behold Mrs. Claus got sick, and Drifty drafted herself to fill the void by whipping up her personal favorite, snowball soup.

It was only at the end that there was the big reveal -- Drfity's snowball soup consists of melted snow and nothing else. In true Drifty fashion, no one really cared because of her nutty antics. She has a gift for cracking herself up! Sorry to spoil the ending, but alas it was the last day today. We've got to wait a whole year for another adventure.

In the meantime we'll be listening to our "Christmas With Drifty" CD. Hopefully we'll get some snow this year so we can try out Drifty's recipe, strictly following the directions of course.

LibbY

Sugar Cookie Heaven

2011-12-06T06:19:00.000-08:00

Don't know about you, but I've never been a big fan of sugar cookies in general. Sure, they're pretty to look at Christmas-time with all of their various shapes and decorations. Other than that, though, they're pretty blah, usually stale, and seem like a big ole waste of calories in general. Why not hold tight until something with chocolate comes along? They were pretty low on the hierarchy of sweets until the Great Awakening took place. A packaged mix was just fine with me. They were just sugar cookies after all, more for decoration that anything else.

Well, it all changed right before Thanksgiving when my friend Denise found this magical recipe online. It dates back to Sweden in 1877, an oldie but goodie. She got her ingredients in a row and started a bake-a-thon. After one bite, just be polite of course, I was hooked -- as in the whole hook, line, and sinker! In the spirit of Julia Child, I agree there can never be too much butter. (No wonder why everyone thought she was such a great cook!) But now I have learned a corollary to the Butter Doctrine -- you absolutely can't go wrong when butter AND shortening are involved, especially in large quantities.

So I'm off to soften not one but two sticks of butter to make another batch. Soon I may need pants that are a size bigger, but what a way to go down, right?

Bon appetit!

LibbY

PS If you make these delectable cookies, take heed of Denise's brilliant idea. Before flattening the dropped cookie dough, dip the glass in flour so the dough doesn't stick to the glass! It's the simple things that matter in life, and this is one of them!

PPS They also freeze very well!

Sugar Cookies Recipe

Photo by: Taste of HomeSugar Cookies Recipe

87% would make again

Read reviews (4)

Rate recipe

This is truly an "oldie", dating back to a Swedish woman born in 1877! Her daughter, Esther Davis, shared the recipe with me and she came up with all the exact measurements, since the original cookies were mixed by "feel" and taste. These are my favorite cookies and I hope they'll become yours as well.

Sugar Cookies Recipe

30 Servings

Prep: 30 min. Bake: 10 min.

301040

Ingredients

1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon Spice Islands® pure vanilla extract
2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
Additional sugar

Directions

In a large bowl, cream butter, shortening and sugar until light and fluffy. Add egg and vanilla; mix well. Combine the flour, baking powder and baking soda; gradually add to the creamed mixture.
Shape into 1-in. balls. Roll in sugar. Place on greased baking sheet; flatten with a glass. Bake at 350° for 10-12 minutes or until set. Remove to wire racks to cool completely. Yield: 5 dozen.

If Cooking for Two: Freeze baked cookies in airtight containers or freezer bags to enjoy anytime!

http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Sugar-Cookies

A Christmas Miracle

2011-12-04T03:24:00.000-08:00

Yes, we've had one here, a Christmas miracle. It's December 4, and we've already ordered our Christmas cards. I know some of you already have yours out in the mail already, and an elite one percent of you even got yours out in November. (You know who you are, Loretta!) For us, though, this is downright miraculous. Usually I'm trying in vain to get a good picture of Sam until at least December 26 or so. There are lots of scenes reenacted over and over again, fake smiles, and eyes not looking anywhere near the camera.

The next step is me scurrying in and out of Sam's Club from December 28-30, trying to get the dang card finished. Oy vey. One year they got printed wrong three times. It was so insane that they eventually gave them to me for free. As much as I do love a bargain, it just wasn't worth it. And the final and perhaps most excruciating step is procrastinating for a good week or so in addressing them all and actually getting them out the door and mailed. We've got until Epiphany, right?

Not this year, though! We expedited matters and took our huge allotment of really bad pictures over the Thanksgiving Weekend when we were up in Bedford Springs, PA. The place was already decked out for Christmas before Thanksgiving, which is still kinda cheating in my book. Moral objections aside, we joined into the fray of the Leapfrogging-Over-Thanksgiving phenomenon. Hey, if Black Friday can start on Thursday, then Christmas card pictures are fair game as well, right?

So here's a token not-looking-at-the-camera shot. Got it -- check.

Then here is a left-hand-too-far-to-the-left shot.

And here is a leaning-too-far-to-the-left shot.

Here is another location, pretty cute.

And yet another. Meh.

OK, three time's a charm, right? No, definitely not.

As it turns out pretty much every year, we decided to use the very first shot. However, we made some changes. We decided to order them online AND have them shipped to us rather than schlepping to pick them up somewhere. Supposedly they've already shipped.

We're on the verge! It could happen -- it really could -- we could actually get them out BEFORE the first day of Christmas! Oops - forgot all about the stamps! How did I forget that crucial step? It's time for a detour to the post office. I think I can, I think I can.

Hey, I just had an epiphany of sorts! Doesn't posting it here count as it being officially "out there?" So here it is, December 4, baby. Woo hooooo! I mean, HO, HO, HO! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

A Deployment to Kindergarten

2011-11-21T18:41:00.000-08:00

Today I went to Sam's school to help with lunch. Man, there I was thinking I had it all down, even mastering that pesky Capri Sun. Just try to give me one I can't stab! Plus there is that marvelous Lunch Lady who has it all down to a science, minute by minute, of what the schedule is for eating, clean up, clapping hands, lining up, etc. There I was thinking I was in good hands, but nooooo...

Unbeknownst to me, it was the first grade's annual Grandparents Day when the grandparents come to school. (Hence the name -- Grandparents Day.) So they needed to use the cafeteria, and the six kindergarten classes were going to eat lunch back in their individual classrooms. That just means that they needed adults to cover the rooms instead of the cafeteria, right? No problem. Well, that was long before realizing that I would be left ALONE with 22 kindergarteners for THIRTY MINUTES. And you guessed it, the all powerful Lunch Lady was nowhere in sight.

As Sam's sweet teacher left to go eat her own lunch in peace, she handed me a couple of books, mentioning, "If you have extra time, you could read them these." Oh my, I was barely in charge and already gunning for extra credit. Gulp. I really started to sweat, that I'm-taking-the-bar-exam-and-my-life is-on-the-line kind of sweat.

Looking back on my many life experiences, I decided to draw from the Army. This was kind of like being out in the field, right? Yes, I was just deployed to a kindergarten class instead of a war zone, and I was on the front lines to boot. Plus I was both outnumbered and surrounded by Lilliputians. Most importantly, there were no reinforcements and no walkie-talkies.

Thankfully one of my favorite observations from my Army days (daze?) came to mind. Here it is: If you don't what the heck you're doing, act like you do. Then everyone will think you do know what the heck you're doing. Perception is everything. Well, that ploy worked just fine for a while until one little girl (who shall not be named) ratted me out, bellowing, "You were supposed to clap by now, and we were supposed put our heads down! I WANT TO PUT MY HEAD DOWN!" Man, you would have thought I had stolen her fruit snacks.

Of course I was tempted to say, "So go put your head down. No one is stopping you!" Instead I went another route. "Hey kids, as a special treat just for today, you don't have to put your heads down!" They looked at me, stunned. They couldn't decide whether to cheer or be overcome with sadness at the missed opportunity to put their heads down. I'm sure their mothers would be happy to let them put their heads down at home anytime they want, no questions asked.

Then the kids really wanted me to do the Magic Clap Thing that the Lunch Lady does to tame the masses. I couldn't pretend that I knew what I was doing on this one since I didn't, so the kids taught me the Magic Clap Thing. After some coaching and a couple of practice runs, I was up to speed. Order prevailed. The kids were happy to have at least one part of their routine restored.

Then it was time to clean-up, put lunch boxes away, and nudge the dawdler who had barely begun to eat his Keebler Fudge Stripes. And there was still time left for the stories. How was that possible? It seemed like I'd been at the helm for hours. It was time to evacuate, fly a white flag, call for a cease fire -- something! Prolonging it no longer, though, I asked, "Where do I sit?" The kids replied in union, "IN THE ROCKING CHAIR!" Oh, that rocking chair.

Halfway through the book, a vision of loveliness appeared in the doorway. My dream had come true. The teacher had returned. My heart flooded with gratitude.

As I floated down the hallway, my endorphins were still pumping. I gazed at the long line of smiling grandparents running all the way to the lobby. They looked so relaxed, so happy. They didn't have to pretend to know what they're doing because they don't have to do anything. Man, I can't wait be a grandparent.

LibbY

On Safari in the Blue Ridge

2011-11-10T04:57:00.000-08:00

News flash! You can have an "Out of Africa" experience right here in Virginia! The Virginia Safari Park is in Natural Bridge, only two hours and 15 minutes away from good ole Richmond. Take it from me, it is a zoo experience like no other! Now a regular zoo will seem so, well, tame. Holy cow, Batman! There are animals everywhere, and they're hungry!

Where else can you be eye to eye with a llama, antelope, ostrich or elk --if you dare?! As you can see, Dr. Doolittle I am not. It got especially crazy when we tried to move forward. They just trotted alongside the car with their heads still inside the car. Man, that's gotta be rough on your neck! And then every once in a while a huge animal would lumber out and park itself right in front of the car. Roadblock!

So I tried to buck up here, so to speak. Llama alert!

OK, I practically fled the scene when these two came for a visit. Trick or treat! Now you can only see the corner of my jacket. And to think I was the driver... Good thing the speed limit is 5 mph.

Some of these animals could use a serious facial at Elizabeth Arden or at least a Kleenex. Oy vey. Anybody got a wipe? Thankfully his massive rack of manliness made it impossible for him to poke his head inside the car. By the way Rudolph is his first cousin.

And the camels don't have great table manners. This one literally stole the bucket right out of Sam's hands. Ah, the delectable taste of pelleted grain! Good to the last drop! Buckets aren't so bad either as a chaser.

Madelyn was at one with the animals just like her mama who was busy taking all of these cool shots. Excellent pics, Lo Lo!

Sam reacted more like me, a bit squeamish with the whole thing. By the end of the ride, he had jumped in the way back to get away from the animals, and pretty soon Madelyn was back there as well. Then they had their own feeding frenzy when they discovered my emergency junk food stash squirreled away back there.

As a result of bucket thieves, we ran out of food for the animals pretty quickly. Madelyn was trying to explain this to a disappointed and hungry friend. I don't think he quite got it.

Thankfully this dude was behind bars. Phew! He seemed a bit agitated.

The setting in the Blue Ridge Mountains is downright stunning, especially with the foliage.

Even through I saw it for myself, it is still hard to believe that this picture of a zebra nursing was taken in Virginia, not Kenya!

The park closes for the winter at the end of November, reopening mid-March. If you can visit the day after Thanksgiving, they are having a charity event called "Coats for Kids." They are donating their entire day's proceeds to purchase winter coats for needy kids in Rockbridge County. Those are some generous animals!

Stay tuned, I'll be writing a full article for Richmond Parents Monthly coming up in the April issue. In the meantime don't try these encounters on your own! Let's be careful out there!

LibbY

Boo!

2011-11-05T19:07:00.000-07:00

Halloween wasn't terribly eventful for us this year. It was fun, mind you, but the rain put a damper on the events -- quite literally. It started to rain right around 6 PM and finished raining by 9 PM when trick-or-treating was winding down for the night. A big bummer for sure, but at least it wasn't two feet of snow, right?

Sam and I hit a bunch of houses in the neighborhood, running into friends and even accidentally dropping in on a few parties. Oopsy daisy! Then after a wet while, Sam wanted to go back to our house to hand out candy. Great idea! At that point Daddy Mac was just getting home from work. He's been working constantly for months now with no let-up, one mega-stressful event after another. Even at that point, he was leaving work way earlier than he should have and would have to get up at o'dark-thirty and head to work to catch up. At least he was spared of the glamor of trick-or-treating in the rain. There's got to be some perks to being chained to your desk after all.

Sam poured out his loot with glee. Daddy Mac and I looked at our mound of leftover candy with not much glee at all, but we dug into it anyway. After all it was there, and so were we. Why waste Milky Ways when kids are starving in Africa? And pretty soon it was time to wrap up Halloween 2011 and hit the hay after a mellow night.

Little did we know the excitement that was about to unfold... At about 1 AM I woke up, needing to go to the bathroom. I really didn't want to get up, so I just lay there thinking about it, procrastinating. Then Daddy Mac got up, so I made myself get up, too, and headed down the hall to use the other bathroom. We've done this many times before, so no big deal.

When I came back down the hall, Bernie yelled at the top of his lungs something like, "WHO ARE YOU?" and lunged towards me. Needless to say I screamed at the top of my lungs, startling him, and then he yelled again. He didn't know that I had gotten up and thought I was a burglar, so he was about to tackle me. Then of course we laughed hysterically at our idiocy. Needless to say, it was awfully hard to go back to sleep after all of that fight-or-flight drama and being scared out of our wits.

On the bright side, Halloween was complete. We'd been spooked.

LibbY

One Witchy Mommy

2011-11-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

At Sam's school parents can volunteer to help out with lunch. The entire kindergarten, all six classes, eat lunch at the same time. That's a heck of a lot of hungry five and six-year-olds in one place. Kids raise their hands if they need help with anything, very politely might I add. Last month I had done it and heard the cutest comments.

As I opened juice boxes, puddings, and yogurts galore, there were the basic "Who are you?" and "Are you Sam's mom?" kind of questions. Of course there were a few, "My mom forgot to pack my spoon!" and "I need a straw for my chocolate milk!" requests, too. The best part was that Sam was so excited, announcing to anyone who could hear over the din of the cafeteria, "My mom's here! My mom's here!" I'll need to savor that memory when he hits middle school and doesn't want to admit he knows me.

The sweet daughter of my good friend raised her hand, so I headed over to her. Once I got there, she looked up with her doe eyes and said, "I don't need any help. I just wanted to say hi!" As I smiled to myself over that one, the next kid took one look at his opened juice box and scolded me, "You opened it WRONG!" Oopsy! So do it yourself next time, kid! I guess my law degree didn't prepare me for opening a Capri Sun properly. Jeez Louise, though, some of those "ready pack" containers for kids are not only kid-proof but adult-proof as well. That's why on my second visit I used scissors to end the debate.

I picked Halloween to have an excuse to dress up my overgrown child self. Sam wanted me to be a witch because it is so "Halloweeny." Why, yes it is! So I was a witch with a big tall black hat, lots of eye makeup, black lipstick and fingernails. It was hard to miss the witchiness of the ensemble. The kids just stared in awe.

They just weren't quite sure who I was, if I was really a witch, or quite what to make of it. They were hungry, though, and wanted to get their apple sauce opened, so there were plenty of arms flung in the air. As I made the rounds, the kids asked, "Are you a real witch or are you someone's mom?" I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. Some kids yelled, "You're a WITCH!" (They're the gifted ones.) As I approached Sam's table, he pointing at me, yelling, "Look, here comes my mom! She's a witch!"

The little girl across the table looked over at me and asked, "So what are you going to be for Halloween?"

An Extraordinary Dentist, An Extraordinary Man

2011-10-24T06:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of the those days when life really throws something at you, something you'd never ever envision, let alone expect. We've had a great dentist for coming up on ten years. I found him right out of the phone book when we moved to Midlothian from the Fan, randomly choosing the practice because it was close and the people seemed friendly. After one visit he was my dentist for sure, no matter how far away he was. He truly was an ordinary man who did things in an extraordinary way.

No one likes visiting the dentist, but Dr. Randall King and his staff made it so downright pleasant that I'd always leave feeling happier than when I came in. I truly enjoyed going in, and Sam did, too. How many small children actually like going to the dentist? It wasn't a fluke. He had a way of making you feel special, like you were his only patient on the planet. He was the opposite of a "king," so jovial and down-to-earth with a remarkably upbeat attitude and zest for life. Gosh, he was only 4 years older than me, 48-years-old.

Around the last time of my last cleaning, I found out he was out sick for a few months with some sort of heart problems. It was hard to believe that this energetic guy who was only 48-years-old had a serious illness. Then we got a card in the mail saying that he had sold his dental practice. Yee gads! I knew he had a wife and two boys whom he adored -- and he was only 48-years-old! (In case I hadn't mentioned his age enough!) Since then I hadn't been into the office to ask how he was doing and follow up although I meant to do so. Gosh, I wish I'd followed up. Why was I too busy to do that?

Yesterday at church I ran into his sweet hygenist. As the church cleared out, I called to her, "How is Dr. King doing?" She looked startled and said quietly, "I'm sorry to tell you that he passed away in June." Passed away? In June? What? Really? I've been in a tailspin ever since. His poor family!

Wow! I'm still just speechless, and that's a rare event. Last night I got on Legacy.com and read his obituary. After reading the many heartfelt comments, I realized he managed to make every patient feel like he/she was his only one. And he'd been doing this for 17 years.

God bless you, Dr. King and your family in dealing with such a devastating loss. You were truly an extraordinary man who made us all better people by knowing you. You've inspired us to try to be extraordinary, too. May you rest in peace.

A Boy Babysitter, Oh Boy!

2011-10-19T04:40:00.000-07:00

'Oh boy' is right! Last weekend Sam had his first "boy babysitter." To say it was a big hit is an understatement. It was more like a bases-loaded home run in the ninth inning! He may never want to go back to the sweet and pretty girls again, until puberty at least.

In fact, he has already planned out what he and his buddy are going to do next time. Of course it involves more LEGOs, a few more rounds of Trouble (the version with R2D2), and reading some spooky Halloween books. Sounds like a plan. Now we need to find somewhere to go! Maybe we'll go use up a restaurant Groupon on the verge of expiring. Ah, and there are so many from which to choose!

So, back to the boy babysitter. He's just in sixth grade, and it was his very first time babysitting. In his favor he's what you call a "good kid" and a neighbor, plus his mother was going to be home. He rode his bike over and had it propped against the hedge, which still makes me smile just thinking about it.

I've got a theory that sometimes the younger babysitters are actually better because the age difference is not as big. Plus they are not too cool to really play. In fact I think he had real fun playing with Sam, which is great. And boy, did his eyes bug out of his head when we paid him! It was better than Christmas morning. As Daddy Mac said later, "It was worth it just to see the expression on his face!" And it was. He's not just a good kid; he's a really good kid.

When I asked Sam for his favorite thing about having a boy babysitter, he didn't hesitate for a second. He replied, "Because he's a boy!" Enough said.

LibbY

The Lowercase "m"

2011-10-10T05:14:00.000-07:00

Gosh, I'd never really given the lowercase "m" much thought - or any thought at all for that matter. I don't remember learning it, practicing it, or hearing about it on Sesame Street. It was just always there, doing its thing --- mmmmmm.

Well, in Sam's kindergarten class, every week they study a different letter in both upper case and lower case. So it all started out well enough with his first bit of "homework." The first night he was supposed to write out two rows of capital "M." When he got off the bus, he literally came running in the door and knocked out his capital M's, ready to clear the way for non-stop LEGO-building until bedtime. The M's weren't perfect, mind you, but it was pretty much a non-event.

However, it all changed on Tuesday with the lower case "m." Again he came racing in the door, dying to do his homework so he could be done with it. Only this time I could tell he was already tired, hungry, and frustrated. Not good. "I can't do it! I can't do it!" he lamented. Well, shoot, I went to law school - I have no idea how to teach someone to write "m."

So I tried a couple of different ideas, none of which worked, and he kept getting more and more upset. "You're going to have to do them for me! I CAN'T do it!" Oh my! Where is the Little Engine That Could when you need it? I do have messy handwriting myself, but what would be more obvious than a string of "m"s written by Mommy Mac? "We'll see how it goes." I hedged. Thankfully he didn't have to bring his tablet back to school until Friday, so we had some time to master this confounded letter.

The problem was two-fold -- (1) he couldn't do the curve and (2) he didn't get it that when you draw the first line down, you don't pick up your pencil. Instead you go straight back up and curve. I kept trying to gently remind him to do that. He kept saying that he already was doing it. I think he really thought he was, but between you, me, and the World Wide Web, he just wasn't. Aaargh!

It was time for a break, but he just wanted to get it done, to check the block. I couldn't blame him; I can be the same way, which is probably where he got the idea in the first place. He insisted he wasn't hungry for anything, but it was obvious he was, very obvious. I finally resorted to offering him Cheetos, the first time I've ever offered them to him. He loves them as do I, but I try to ration them out as a super-special treat only when he asks specifically asks for them. We can all agree that the distinctive orange color does not look like it comes from nature but from the ravages of nuclear war.

So after that quick radioactive snack and a thorough handwashing, he was right back at it. No surprise, it still wasn't working, and he was about to burst into tears. "Let's take a break," I suggested again. He shook his head. It was a bit strange to be actively discouraging him from doing his homework! What was going on here? I told him, "Sam, sometimes the best thing you can do is take a break." Man, wish I had learned that lesson at his age! Then I even suggested he get on the computer and check out some LEGO videos, another big first on the offering board. He took me up on it, thank God.

A while later, we started it up again. Again he lamented, "They still look like small capital 'M's!" And they did. Oy vey. That curve thing was still not happening. "Let's take another break and try it again before bed," I suggested. That too was another no-go. I felt bad for him because he was trying so hard, but it just wasn't clicking. Maybe I was going to have to write those two rows of m's for him come Friday after all.

In the morning after a good night's sleep, he sat down all on his own. Nonchalantly he cranked out a truly beautiful row of lowercase m's, curves and all. Wow, what a shocker! I was so impressed! Big phew!

Spurred on by this come-from-behind victory, we moved onto the next night's homework which was to draw a picture of something that begins with an "m." So I nonchalantly suggested, "Just draw a mouse or something like that" and sauntered off to get ready for the day. When I checked his tablet an hour or so later, I was flabbergasted. There on the paper was a picture of a woman with straight brown hair and pink lipstick who had a big smile on her face. Below it he had written, "mom."

LibbY

A Bad Day

2011-09-21T20:20:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a bad day every now and then, but there are some really bad days that leave you feeling disillusioned with the world. Poor Sam had one of those today, the poor guy. Isn't he underaged for this? I think he'll always remember this day, and I will, too. Ugh.

In kindergarten each child gets a "good note" for having a well behaved day. After accumulating 10 of them, the kid gets to go to the treasure box and pick out the toy of his/her choice. (You're not allowed to look in the box before having the 10 notes.) Well, a friend of Sam's went to the treasure box yesterday and told him there was this great Lego mouse in there with some sort of really cool helmet.

Sam was all excited this morning and so ready to go to the treasure box today. When he got off the bus 20 minutes late, though, he looked just heartbroken with flushed cheeks and on the verge of tears. "What happened?" I asked. He said that when he got to the treasure box he looked and looked through it, but he couldn't find the Lego mouse anywhere. There wasn't anything else in there that he wanted, so he took a plastic Army guy just to take something.

As it turns out, this "friend" had actually taken that Lego mouse for himself the day before and lied to Sam when telling him it was still in there. "He's not my friend any more. He tricked me just to be mean!" he lamented. Ooomph. Oh, Dr. Spock, what do I say now now? A couple of four letter words came to mind, but I said, "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I bet you're so disappointed! You worked so hard!" I wanted to cry myself and go wring that kid's neck, of course.

When it rains, it pours, and it was literally pouring out. It turns out they had a really good excuse for being 20 minutes late in addition to the rain. The bus had broken down right in the middle of a busy intersection! They were stuck in the middle of the road for a long time with traffic all backed up behind them. The gutsy bus driver got out, set up cones, and directed traffic around the bus, which I'm sure is not in her job description. (Big Christmas present for her!)

Eventually another bus with another driver picked them up and drove the rest of the route home. The kids all looked pretty shellshocked, even the older ones. Sam said one girl was crying because she thought she'd never see her mother again. Anybody have a hanky?

So what do I do to rectify the situation? Should I let him take the hard knock as part of life or do I buy him another toy and try to make it all better? Something in the middle seemed like the right thing to do, bringing the focus back to his good work. Since I'd already promised him that I'd take him this weekend to buy the Bionicle set that he'd saved up for, I told him we'd go today as a reward because of his 10 good notes.

Needless to say, he perked right on up. Lo and behold, as we walked into Toys R Us, we ran into one of our favorite families like an oasis in the Sahara. Just seeing them made us smile. Sam is great friends with the three kiddos, and Daddy Mac and I are equally great friends with the parents. We haven't gotten to see them much lately because the kids go to different schools.

Within minutes Sam had the Lego of his dreams in his hands (today's dreams anyway) and good friends to share in his excitement, and I got to catch up with my friend. Sam's "friend" was long forgotten. Real friends are the best treasure of all.

LibbY

Reality Bites 2

2011-09-21T12:31:00.000-07:00

Move over, Winona Ryder! There is a movie remake in town featuring some disenfranchised five and six-year-olds. The newness of kindergarten has worn off like cheap pink nail polish. My friend calls it "kindergarten crack," and the trip has officially ended. Reality has set in for Sam. He can't believe he's got to keep doing this day after day after day. In my inside-my own-head-voice, I say, "Get used to it, buddy. It's called the workweek." In my outer voice, I say, "It will get easier. You'll get used to it."

He's been asking, "Why can't we just go to school on Mondays?" Of course my first thought was "because then we would have the lowest GNP in the world and even more debt." Instead I say, "Because there is so much to learn!" Then he asks, "Why it is so long?" Good question and one I'd like to ask myself. I agree -- 8:45 until 4:10 is an awfully long day for newby kindergarteners.

And homework starts next week. Yes, homework for kindergarten! I don't think a thesis or anything is required. However, it seems like there should be enough time during the five long school days to get things done. ^I am now off my soap box.^

Up to this point we've resisted scheduling Sam with activity upon activity. Now, though, he's used to having hours upon end to tinker away with his LEGOs. Alas, that time is gone now. "At school I get bossed around all day," he huffed. I had to stifle a guffaw at that one, but I get it. This is a huge adjustment for him in many ways. Really, who likes to get bossed around all day?

Thankfully he does get his brick-craving hands on LEGOs during the 30 minutes of center time during the afternoon. Plus he has a "new best friend" named Connor who is also LEGO-obsessed. (As far as obsessions go, it's a pretty good one to have, right? It sure beats Scientology!) Other than that fix, there is a whole lot of coloring, cutting, writing, and gluing going on all day. He's frustrated that he's not very good at that kind of thing. I try to explain that other kids have been doing these activities for fun on their own and he'll catch up. To date he doesn't look convinced.

Last night at "Back to School Night," his adorable teacher was telling parents that they've been reading The Little Engine That Could to encourage the kids to stick with their new challenges. Later she told me that she definitely had Sam in mind. So we'll be doing lots of "I think I can, I think I can" reinforcement around here. It sure wouldn't hurt me to focus on the value of optimism and hard work. Some say this story is a metaphor for the American dream, at least according to the current version of Wikipedia anyway.

I think he can, I think he can. Hopefully someday soon Sam will be saying, "I thought I could, I thought I could."

LibbY

Where Were You on 9/11?

2011-09-11T14:08:00.000-07:00

We all remember where we were, and it is imprinted on our memories forever. Where were you when you found out about the horrors of Tuesday, September 11, 2001? I had just arrived at work in the legal department at Circuit City's credit card bank FNANB when my phone rang. It was my then fiance (now Daddy Mac) saying, "A plane hit the World Trade Center!" The shock of it, the disbelief - really? Just now? What?!

And as we were on the phone speechless with shock, the unthinkable happened -- a second hijacked plane struck the south tower. Soon after that came mind-bending news of the Pentagon being struck by a third overtaken flight. The Pentagon?! No way! Yes way! And then came the courageous story of the passengers of Flight 93 taking the plane down in rural Pennsylvania before reaching the terrorists' intended destination of the US Capitol. At that point I couldn't help but look out the window and wonder if FNANB was next. (Not too rational, I know!) It seemed like the Apocalypse was unfolding before our eyes on our TVs and radios.

Ironically enough, it was a gorgeous early fall day without a cloud in the sky, no natural clouds anyway. The billowing dark clouds of smoke suffocating Lower Manhattan, the Pentagon, and Shanksville, PA, were all man-made. Nature had nothing to do with it, just man's free will gone purely evil.

Needless to say, work was the furthest thing from anyone's mind. I don't really remember much about anything that morning, everyone was quiet, somber, huddled around a TV, computer, or the internet. I already had plans to meet a friend for lunch at a Vietnamese place. We still went because we didn't know what else to do with ourselves. It was so surreal, eating tasty dumplings while watching footage of the towers being struck, burning, and collapsing over and over again.

I don't remember any specific images other than the towers burning. However, there is one memory that is as sharp as if it happened last week. It was Friday morning after the horror of horrors on Tuesday, and I had "Good Morning, America" on as I got ready for work. They were on location at Ground Zero, live interviewing people who happened to be in the area.

All of a sudden a teenage girl about 16-years-old burst onto the screen. She was in a full-scale panic, talking in fast bursts, and incredibly wired. Her eyes were darting everywhere, and she couldn't focus on anything for more than a second. She looked so strung out -- the poor girl probably hadn't slept since waking up Tuesday morning before her world unraveled.

Holding up a flyer, she kept asking, almost hissing, "Has anybody seen my father? Has anybody seen my father? I know he's here somewhere. Have you seen my father? He works right here. I've got to find my father! Have you seen him? Have you seen my father?" I don't think I've ever seen anyone looks so desperate. I still cry thinking about that poor girl. She was so exposed in her hysteria and panic that I felt awful for having witnessed what should have been a private scene. It was too personal, she was too fragile in her hysteria grief to be plastered on a national morning talk show.

I still pray her father was miraculously alive and well and just about to walk around the corner and give her the biggest hug of her life. Deep down, though, I know that wasn't the case. To that poor girl, now a woman 10 years later, I pray you have found peace. May we all find peace among the ruins, but we must never forget.

LibbY

Phew! First Day Down!

2011-09-06T18:31:00.000-07:00

Despite the monsoon outside, it all went surprisingly fantastically well, but there were definitely some touch and go moments. Rather than bounding down the stairs like usual, Sam stayed quietly his room, play with LEGOs. (What else?) I think he was hoping we'd forget about him so he wouldn't have to go to school. Nice try, but no. Here he is after spilling water all over himself.

Oh, and here is his adorable teddy bear name tag that the kindergarteners wear during the first week. Now that is going in the scrap book! They also write each kid's bus route on their hand in magic marker. Nobody's baby is getting lost on their watch!

Then at the bus stop, though, we were wondering if the bus driver had forgotten about us. Maybe the parents should have been wearing teddy bear sandwich boards! She didn't arrive until 9:15 which is when school actually starts session. Yikes, a newby! It ended up being good for the kids' (and parents') nerves for a chance to mill around and relax. Plus it gave the boys the chance to stomp in every single mud puddle in the vicinity at least once. The girls were far too smart for that nonsense and enjoyed the luxury of having dry feet for the rest of the day.

When the bus arrived at the end of the day, he bounded off with a big smile! He was in the best mood he's been in --- forever. It was such a relief to see him so happy. (He's in front with the blue bag. Shoulda zoomed in!)

It was only at bedtime that he filed his first complaint, "They didn't teach me to read today!" Ah, the injustice of it all! In the words of Scarlett O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day!"

LibbY

Mood Swings, Cake, and Kindergarten

2011-09-05T18:52:00.000-07:00

After a summer of fun, there have been lots of mood swings in this house this weekend. For once I am not part of them. Sam seems to be battling his inner demons on starting kindergarten. One minute he's fine, then he's whiny and complaining, and before you know it, he's bouncing off the walls laughing like a crazy man. Now I understand the frustration of dealing with teenage girls!

At orientation last week, his teacher requested that each child bring in an empty frosting cup to hold crayons, etc. She joked that if we didn't have a spare empty frosting cup handy, then we should make a cake over the weekend. I don't make cakes very often, so that thought stuck with me.

Today I suggested that we make a Back-to-School Cake, of course prompted by the bowl of displaced frosting. Wow! He was thrilled! I like this teacher already. Making the cake was something nice and soothing to do together, and of course he got to lick the spoon and break off a few "stray"pieces. This could be the start of a new back-to-school tradition - a new homemade cake is like a fresh start for the year, a slice of hope. Anyway, it worked here like gutters on a rainy day, and it was fabulous. (Note: I forgot to add the water, and it came out the best if ever has. Go figure.)

Then the sugar high set in full force, and off we went for a post-dinner walk. Instead of getting weepy and sad, Sam suggested that we go right to the bus stop to "practice." Once we got there, he didn't want to leave and -- honest to God - started picking up "souvenirs." Yes, he selected some bus stop grass, a bus stop pine cone, a bus stop leaf, and even a bus stop Moon rock (a small piece of tar.)

What in the world was going on in that little mind? Maybe I don't want to know. All I need to know is that after some cake he was back to his regular happy-go-lucky self and even willing to go to bed early. Gosh, I really like this teacher. In fact, I think I might love her. And I really do love that cake. Now that he's in bed, it's time for another piece! Cheers -- to kindergarten!

LibbY

Why Are Smurfs Blue?

2011-08-21T18:21:00.000-07:00

It all began with some innocent little Smurf toys for Sam and his friend from a Happy Meal at the McDonald's down at the Rivah. Then came the million dollar question on our way home, "Why are Smurfs blue?" So how do you respond to that rather existential one, especially when it's asked a good 25 times in a row during stop-and-go beach/river traffic on Route 64? Here's my best take! "Because whoever made them up decided to make them blue." (Unfortunately that old standby "because I said so" just doesn't fit here. I had no input whatsoever into the Smurf color and couldn't pretend to be that all-powerful.) So here's my 'why' question! Why must kids ask that over and over and over? Why? Why, especially when you tell them every time, "That is my Final Answer. I don't know anymore."

Yesterday was a classic one. As we were crossing over the hanging bridge to Belle Island, we overheard a two-year-old girl asking why there was scaffolding on the bridge. That seemed like a very valid question -- and impressive -- coming from a young toddler. She was puzzled and not quite satisfied with the answer, so she kept asking "Why?"over and over again.

Surprisingly Sam really didn't care why there was scaffolding, I guess because it was not constructed out of LEGOs. He just had to ask repeatedly, "Why does that girl keep asking 'why?'" Good question! Of course I was tempted to respond with "Why do YOU keep asking 'why?'" Instead I summoned some patience from the depths of my soul and explained, "Well, she's curious about the world and how it
works. It helps her learn."

So why are Smurfs blue?

LibbY

Some Rapid Rapids

2011-08-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

Gosh, isn't this gorgeous? Can you guess where this is? No, we weren't on a trip to a national park out in the Wild West, but it sure felt like we were. Believe it or not, it's Richmond, downtown Richmond on a Saturday morning stroll on Belle Island! In fact, Dominion Power's headquarters are right there on the other bank. (I bet there are some really big fights for the corner office there!

Yes, this is the James River as it passes through our under-the-radar "River City," right by the amazing Hollywood Rapids. Richmond has the distinction of being the only city in the U.S. with these heart-pumping Class 4 rapids within city limits, not to mention rolling smack through town.

Since the water levels are so low this year, even more rocks were exposed than ever, looking like stranded humpback whales. Of course, this creates even more white water and makes rock-hopping downright easy! It kind of felt like we were cheating, but we got over it. I guess Sam could have worn his flip-flops after all... Ah, at least he was taking at all in stride as Joe Cool.

Alas for this kayaker it was the other extreme, a whole lot harder to maneuver, especially where he got stuck. Hey, that makes it all the more fun, right? He's out there battling against the rapid rapids.

Phew! He did make it out of that rough patch after a bit of sheer terror but now has a great story to tell over a beer.

Ah, but the happiest of all was that crazy dog who took a running leap into the river, flopping around with glee and straining the leash to its very end. It's hard not to respect that kind of exuberance, even from a dog. He's got the right idea all right! It's time to be in the moment and savor those last carefree days as summer inevitably begins to wind down. Before you know it, it'll be time to sharpen those pencils and take the tags off that new backpack. Until then, though, I'll be in the moment -- or at least trying to be!

LibbY

Introducing the Tooth Fairy!

2011-08-08T05:06:00.000-07:00

Yes, it finally happened -- Sam lost his first tooth! It happened quite randomly last night while using his teeth to separate two LEGOs. Poof! And it was gone! Very appropriate given his LEGO-obsessed brain, body, and entire existence on Earth.

At first he was all freaked out and upset about missing a tooth. Then he had an epiphany! He realized this meant the Tooth Fairy would come and give him some money to put towards -- you guessed it -- more LEGOs! What a deal! His theory was that she arrived on a big tooth brush with wings. Maybe this will get him to brush better...

Alas, the tooth was missing, so we had to write a note to the Fairy explaining it all. Sam was convinced it had "exploded" in his mouth and then disappeared. Of course I'm thinking the obvious -- he swallowed it. We checked all the nearby LEGO bins out to see if it had landed in there with no luck.

There was a distinct up-side to all of this drama -- he was dying to go to bed early so the Tooth Fairy could come. Likewise we were dying for that to happen whatever it cost us in Tooth Fairy Bucks. Now we are already looking forward to the next tooth -- him for more cash and us for another early bedtime. Bring it on, Tooth Fairy!

LibbY

PS The Tooth Fairy did leave him a note telling him not to use his teeth to pry LEGO pieces apart.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

2011-07-21T13:03:00.000-07:00

I'm hot! Are you hot? I'm talking HOT here! It's hard to think or talk about anything else. (I am including these lake pictures not to taunt you, but to help you think cool thoughts!) No wonder countries around the Equator have a slower paced lifestyle. It's way too hot for a power suit! Heck, it's too hot for even a bathing suit these days!

Yes, here's a big ole heatwave sweeping across the country, and it has definitely hit hard here. It's 3:30 PM and it is 97 degrees, but it feels like 109. It sure does all right! In fact it feels like 115, give or take a degree!

Yesterday, we went to a friend's pool to cool off. Even when wet, the cement was downright scalding, enough to truly burn your feet. I had never experienced that pain before! And then when we went to leave, the steering wheel in the car was way too hot to even touch until a few minutes of air conditioning kicked in. It's insane. Even the crayons had succumbed to the heat, melting into Crayola rainbow soup.

And here's another tidbit for you! Tomorrow and Saturday are supposed to be EVEN HOTTER! How is that possible?! Thankfully Sunday supposed to be only (only?!) 94, but that is before the heat index is added on like the blanket of humidity it is. It is hard to believe that two weeks ago we were in Colorado wearing fleeces of all things and playing softball with a snowball! And why did we think it was a good idea to leave?

Instead of being snowed it, we are pretty much "heated in." It's too hot to move, but at least we don't have to shovel it or bundle up. Then again we don't have snow angels or hot chocolate either.

Keep cool -- if you can! In the meantime we all need to keep our cool. This too shall pass, right?

LibbY

The Lovely Aspen Tree

2011-07-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

We've been back from Colorado for over a week now, but I still have a vivid image of those gorgeous Aspen trees shimmering in the breeze and blowing in the wind, creating a faint rustling sound. As an East Coaster I had never really heard of that particular tree, but I had heard of the chi-chi ski town of Aspen. After taking my first good look at some Aspen trees, I realized this is why Aspen is called "Aspen!" (I'm quick there!) No wonder why movie stars buy second (or third) homes there. If I had that kind of pocket change, I probably would, too!

Here is a row of Aspens in the Betty Ford Alpine Park in Vail with Vail Mountain in the background.

Here is a whole forest of Aspens on the outskirts of Aspen. This was perhaps my favorite sight from the entire trip, and there was steep competition.

Here are some smaller Aspens, also at the Betty Ford Alpine Park.

We saw these Aspens on an incredible jeep tour we took in the Vail area. (Yes, it's is a typical touristy activity to do in Colorado, but we were tourists in Colorado after all!) So do you see where the bark has been scratched right off? That is where a bear sharpened his claws. Yes! That is one big paw, huh?

Apparently Aspens have some of the softest wood to be found, so they make for great scratching posts. Plus its bark is more of a loose skin, so it's easy to scratch since it is not so firmly attached to the tree itself. Here's a little trivia for you! Since the wood is so soft and doesn't splinter much, it is the type used in manufacturing toothpicks and tongue depressors!

Aspens resemble birch trees quite a bit, but apparently aren't at all related. Here is a crazy fact for you via our jeep driver. Aspens appear to be white, but in reality are a light green color. The tree creates its own white powder that is covers the tree, creating the white effect. It acts a sun protectant with an SPF for 40! You can rub your hands on the tree and see the white powdery film on your hands. It's wild! Sam was also impressed, shouting, "Free sunscreen!" It is also supposed to be an effective mosquito repellent! God sure knew what He was doing when He created the Aspen!

We definitely noticed that Aspens appears in groups. It was quite rare to see one standing alone amongst other trees. According to our guide, all Aspens that grow in a particular area are actually ONE organism, connected by roots. Amazing! I'd never heard of such a concept in trees, but it makes sense when you think about it and probably helps them survive through the long harsh Colorado winter.

Speaking of the snowy Colorado winter, Aspens have another ingenious defensive feature -- the base of the tree does not have the same "skin" as everywhere else on the tree. Instead it is covered in traditional rough, tough, dark bark -- to protect the tree from the freezing cold snowdrifts. (Sorry, no picture of that!)

Hail to the Aspen, one amazing tree!

LibbY

The Incredible Melting Vacation

2011-07-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

Why is it that vacations seem to melt like ice creams on a hot summer day? Ours is melting away right now; we are leaving on a jet plane tomorrow. That's the thing about vacations -- you plan them out, look forward to them, and hopefully enjoy them. Deep down, though, you never really expect them to come to an end, and you certainly don't expect reality to take hold once again. Oh, but it does, doesn't it?

At least you know you had a great vacation if you are sad it's over. I suppose the better the vacation is, the sadder you are when it ends. So I'm pretty darn lucky to be so sad, right?

This the view from our place in Vail. At least it is ours until 6 AM tomorrow when we head on out of here and back to reality. We actually came out here two years ago and loved it so much, we decided to come back again. Usually I'm not up for going anywhere a second time, but this was well worth the exception. It actually made it more relaxing and more like a vacation because we already knew our way around and pretty much already knew what we wanted to do - rafting on Gore Creek, taking a jeep ride off-road, and heading back to the Continental Divide in hopes that Sam would actually get out of the car this time. And, oh, we also wanted to take Sam back to the super-cool huge pirate ship and the amazing Betty Ford Gardens. Thankfully we managed to achieve these lofty goals without having to study the map! Yahoo!

Here we are with our windblown "jeep hair-do."

And here we are at the Continental Divide. As you can see, Sam did get out of the car this time. It doesn't matter that we had to bribe him with Oreos, does it?

Here we are all geared up for rafting. I didn't realize until way too late how cold the water is. It had only melted from snow 8 hours beforehand. Ouch!

Here is Daddy Mac at the Betty Ford Alpine Gardens, some of the most gorgeous gardens I've ever seen as well as one my children's parks anywhere. I just read that she passed away today. She is leaving behind a wonderful legacy.

What a great place to play! Thank you, Mrs. Ford!

Here's the super-duper-cool pirate ship. AAAARGH! Pretty cool, huh?

We definitely fit in some goofy behavior as well.... Here''s Sam gettin' down (or something like that) on top of Vail Mountain. In his own words, he said, "This is the life!" It sure is, bucko! It took me 40 years to get to Vail and he has already been there twice at age 6.

Well, I'm really melting now as I finish this up! We are back in hot, humid Richmond, with rain pouring. Even after the Rockies, there's still no place like home! And there's nothing like a hellish flight home to make you really want to get home!

LibbY

East Germany, Vail & the Fourth

2011-07-04T16:56:00.000-07:00

Today we were having our 4th of July breakfast at our favorite place in Vail, the Little Diner. I've never been much of a breakfast person until finding this place when we were here two years ago for vacation. So there we were, eating away, and Sam started rambling on and on to one of the chefs about his latest LEGO creation, some sort of Alien thing with a homemade escape pod (TMI, I know.)

Trying to get Sam to talk TO the man and not AT him, I prodded him to ask the man if he ever played with LEGOs when he was a little boy. The man responded, "No, I grew up in Germany, but I didn't play with LEGOs." We laughed, thinking he had lived so close to the LEGO headquarters in Denmark but never played with them. How naive are we...

The man said, "We didn't have LEGOs where I lived." What? No LEGOs In Germany? He continued, "I grew up behind the Wall." I think I gasped out loud! Yes, he really was referring to THAT wall, the Berlin Wall. Wow! What in the world do you say to that one?

Daddy Mac and I have never been quite so speechless and just stared, aghast. Sam was confused by the whole conversation and started firing off all sorts of random questions. "What wall? A wall with no LEGOs? You didn't have LEGOs? What did you play with?"

The man explained, "I just had some wooden blocks that my father made for me." Now it was Sam's turn to be speechless. He had no idea what to say. A childhood with no toys? No LEGOs? No Target? Say it isn't so.

Our leisurely breakfast turned out quite an interesting history lesson for this six-year-old, learning about the Cold War via LEGOs -- and the lack thereof. We told him about the Soviet Union, the Berlin Wall, communism, and how repressed the people were. Phew! That's a lot to explain over French toast, even if it is the best French toast in the world.

The man told us he grew up in Dresden, a city that was bombed and pretty much obliterated at the end of World War II. We sat there in stunned silence. Really, what do you say to that? He reassured us that it has all been rebuilt by now and actually is a nice place to live.

Then he went on to tell us that his father had been part of the Secret Police, the Stasi. His father must have been pretty high up since he said his family lived right next door to the station. Holy cow! He said he used to watch people being taken away to jail or worse for unknown crimes against East Germany. Yes, all that and he had no LEGOs to boot.

The man continued, "I still remember getting my first Matchbox. We had a 'Euro Store' with Western goods controlled by the government. We were only allowed to buy two things a month, and everything was really expensive. My mother took me there once because I got a good report card. I looked at all the Matchboxes for half an hour before I finally picked one out." Unreal. I kept thinking of the 25 or so Matchboxes that Sam has at home and doesn't even notice their existence. Whew! There's a reality check.

We finished up there and headed out to watch the 4th of July Parade, each of us appreciating our freedom -- and LEGOs -- much more than we had before we heard his story.

God bless America!

LibbY