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Four year old imagination:

2008-07-09T17:58:00.005-06:00

"Greta: Jim, are you finished eating?"
"Jason: Yes Greta, I am."
" Greta: I'm NOT Greta, I am Arena Mae, this is my baby Tiny Tim (Her doll Hannah) and this is my brother Crint (Charlie). My mother (Liz)is Crank and you (dad) are Jim. Any questions?"
"Um no; at least my name is not Crank."
"No, but you are married to her."
"Right you are Arena Mae."

Catching up

2008-06-06T20:08:00.016-06:00

We took our very first road trip. 3,300 miles with the kids through Iowa (nothing to report), Nebraska (Motel 6 was a luxurious respite from the moonless nighttime monotony).
We arrived in Denver shortly into our second day. The kids were great. It was at the motel 6 the night before when we decided that we would always stay at a hotel with a pool. This was the bare minimum requirement and one that would save us many late nights with stir crazy car bound kids. It is a little known fact that swimming pools have been known to tire children out at a rate 15% faster than screaming at them does. These statistics are enough proof for me. We also discovered at the next hotel that a "suite" is another way to spell "lasting marriage". We insisted on a suite thereon.
When we arrived in Denver we called the Hampton inns and Suites. This location was a highlight of our vacation due to my sister living relatively close to the hotel. Rebecca and her husband Tim are truly are the most gracious hosts and the most niece and nephew-centric people we know. I would love them to have children now, but if they can't, they are welcome to have ours. We spent some quality time at the the hotel defending ourselves from a nest of Pigeons and their defensive cock on our balcony. Every time we opened the door to the balcony, swoosh in came the male and in went our party.
We had a nice picnic in Denver, spent some quality time at the Brunetto residence, had some mediocre Sushi, went to a retro candy making factory, saw a great upscale grocery store that in its greenness would make Al Gore proud, (I loathe the man) Had a great picnic at a local park, went to Boulder for some outstanding micro-brew (I could live there if I didn't loathe Al Gore who seems to be revered as a god both there and everywhere west).

Next stop was Santa Fe.

Wow. Santa Fe is spectacular. It is an arid great-lakeless Tex-Mex Bayfield Wisconsin. We arrived at a recommended B&B where we had made a reservation. The B&B was obviously nice once, but as the owners aged, so did the establishment. We were shown to our room which though large, was tired. The proprietor handed us the key and left us to ourselves. We were exhausted. The drive from Denver to Santa Fe is long and with two young kids is very long.
We didn't need any surprises.
As we explored the room we discovered that more than just tired, our room was dirty. Two pubic hairs in the sink, an unidentifiable smear on a wall, a small raised dirt shoe track in the middle of the room, a slightly ruffled coverlet. Questions came to our tired minds like, were the sheets even relatively clean, were those really pubes, why were they in the sink? Was the bed made this week, this month, what was in that closet that we couldn't open? Why did the room have shag carpeting, can shag be clean? What was that yellow wet looking chunk in the carpeting, and avoiding the chunk, was it otherwise alright to go barefoot?

Twenty uncomfortable minutes later (Thanks to Liz for getting us out of our deposit at the B&B) we arrived at the AAA emergency-line recommended Inn of the Governors. Night and day. We were greeted with a glass of sherry, cinnamon cookies for the kids, and were escorted to the best room of our trip. The porter showed us where we could find the firewood for our in room kiva fireplace and showed us our robes for the heated outdoor pool. No pubes in the sink, check. No yellow chunks, check. No shag carpeting, check.
The Inn of the Governors is two blocks from the plaza which is the shopping, art and restaurant center of Santa Fe. We ate some outstanding Southwestern cuisine, sampled the regional red and green chili sauces and for the most part had a great time. We were given some great dining recommendations by a local artist Roger Wilber who is a friend of a friend and who's art is second to none in the famous galleries of Santa Fe. Although we didn't have a chance to see Roger himself, we were shown some of his jewelry which is the best we saw in the city.
We will return to Santa Fe someday soon.
Tulsa OK, Amarillo TX, and finally Kansas city MO rounded out the trip. Kansas city was nice. Some highlights include Oklahoma Joe's in Kansas City, Kansas, The Hallmark Museum, and the Plaza.

What else...
Yesterday we returned from a week in Ft. Myers. We went with my in laws and the kids.
The weather was perfect, and well, we survived. Our room is right on the water and we had a school of dolphin and a group of Manatees right outside the window. We spent time on Sanabel and Captiva, enjoyed the beach and didn't strangle each other. Amazing, everyone had a pretty good time! The highlight of the trip for me was going to Ft Lauderdale for the day to visit with my Grandparents, Aunt and Cousins. We spent a good part of the day in Ft Lauderdale at my Grandparents house visiting Marybeth, Kathy, and Kathy's kids Michael, Joseph and Taylor who are about the sweetest and most well behaved kids you could meet. We look forward to them visiting Minnesota soon!

I could go on and on, but then what would I have to say next year when I update?

Updates

2007-12-12T22:03:00.000-06:00

A big thanks to my Aunt Bernadette without whom I would not be up past my bedtime (10:00) trying to think of something halfway witty to write. Your compliments made my day!

I would like to appease my wife's pleasant pleading and update this blog. In no particular order I present a few highlights of the past year.

This summer our family spent a good deal of time at my parents cabin in Deerwood, MN. This is a rustic and historical home circa 1900 once was inhabited by a well reputed local character and Colonel who fought in WW1. The house was also said to be an important fur trading post with the Ojibwa Indians of the Mille Lacs region.

Early this summer we had my father's Cousin Tom and his family visit from Georgia. We all went up north to the cabin and got to know each other a little better. Earlier in the year Tom's brother Bob (possibly my second cousin once removed... I never really understand how that works) died somewhat unexpectedly.

He was a great person and is well missed.

The underlying idea behind the family visit was to bury a portion of Bob's cremated ashes on the family property. This was presumably how Bob might have wanted it. Bob was an avid fisherman and weeks before he died he made plans to visit the cabin for some bass fishing. He even made plans to leave his small fishing boat with us as he found it too difficult to navigate such a small boat on his home-lake Michigan.
We decided on a tree planting memorial ceremony and chose a beautiful breezy summer evening. Each of us took turns with a shovel and dug a large hole where the ashes would be buried beneath the roots of the tree. With the hole dug we took turns emptying a small portion of Bob's ashes into the prepared ash-hole. Most people are not comfortable putting things into an ash-hole especially a family member's ash-hole; yet as I stood there on that summer evening it just felt right.

At one point during the burial our Greta was standing near the lakeside of the burial tree. Unfortunately this was downwind. As each person took their turn and carefully placed a portion of Bob back to the earth, the wind seemed to catch and carry an equally proportionate amount of him over the lake in a billowing cloud. A billowing cloud that consumed an amused Greta who gleefully exclaimed with deep lung filling breaths, "Mmm...this is beautiful and it smells great...like pita bread!" When next we have pita bread I wonder if she will think it smells like Bob. As Rachel Ray would so wittingly say, "Yummo". Yummo indeed Rachel Ray.

With Bob buried and without further incident, we passed around a can of very old sun ripened "lite" style beer that was salvaged from deep within an interior compartment of Bob's former fishing boat. We tentatively cracked it open with thoughts of botulism and dysentery dancing in our heads. This can looked old. As though he were watching over us at that moment and protecting us from afar in his little brew-pub in heaven, I'll be dammed if that beer didn't still taste good. We shared half the can among us, and tipped the last half to the earth for Bob. Yummo.

We went to Chicago again this summer for a little family vacation. Our good friend Trina worked at the time for the Four Seasons Hotel and was able to get us her Friends and family discount. If you ever want to know to your core what it is like to be middle class just stay at the Four Seasons. I felt so out of place that I had to pretend in my mind that I was some eccentric rich person who shopped exclusively at Target only because I am a primary shareholder and I am fat only because of my feelings about the carbon footprint of liposuction. Actually we had a marvelous time and saw Chicago in grand style. A highlight for me was the Architectural Riverboat Cruise. It was so cool to see the city from the river. Greta ate Escargot for the first time at a French restaurant called Mon Ami Gabi. (Yummo) She thought she was so cool keeping up with the big people. Later that night the hotel delivered an ice cream man up to the room to make the kids sundaes. Prince Charles and Princess Greta were on cloud nine.

We suffered a loss this summer as a friend of Greta's died tragically. His name was Tommy and he was a perfect little boy. Following is an excerpt from an e-mail sent out shortly after the incident. It is truly heartbreaking. [Tommy was swimming at a man-made lake near Lake Minnetonka and must have gotten in too deep and no one ever saw him go under. He was recovered from the water approximately 10 minutes later and was rushed to the emergency room via helicopter. The doctors tried to revive him for over an hour with no success. My heart aches to tell you that Tommy passed away on July 27th, 2007. He was just 3.5 years old. For those of you that don't know Tommy well... he was so strong, so full of life, could walk into a room and immediately make himself known, he has a beautiful head of blond hair and awesome blue eyes. He is an amazing little boy who is going to be so deeply missed by all.] Make a point of saying a prayer or two for them this Christmas season.

Liz's sister Bev was diagnosed with Cancer several months ago as was a good friend of the family Sydney Tritle. Bev is in recovery mode and she just had her last run of Chemo last week. We pray that they got it all! Sydney is just starting her treatment after several surgery's to remove malignant cells. Our thoughts and prayers are with both of you!

Liz did something really cool this fall. A year ago I bought her a intro flight package at Thunderbird Aviation in Eden Prairie. When we arrived at the airport the pilot greeted us and asked if anyone else wanted to fly along as a passenger. Greta promptly raised her hand and was escorted to the backseat of the small plane. Once they did the ground check they were up in the air for just over a half hour. The coolest part was that Liz got to take off, fly the plane, and was given the opportunity to land which she understandably refused. Greta was flown over the Renaissance festival and Liz tipped the wing down so that Greta could get a good view of all of those weirdos at the fair.

After the flight, we joined the ranks of weirdos at the Renaissance fair and spent the rest of the day people watching the strangest group of people Minnesota has to offer. For some reason the Renaissance Festival attracts people who are just dying to dress up and are totally confused about how to go about doing this within the confines of the specific dates that define the Renaissance. This year I saw three Harry Potters, two scary ninjas, some sort of Animé Bear and truckloads of inappropriate flesh that made me wish this were the Islamic Burqa Fair instead. The highlight of this year's fair was Charlie and the elephants. I had never noticed them in years past, but the kids seemed excited so we strolled on over to get a closer look. Charlie couldn't quite see over the railing into the pen where the elephants were walking, so I lifted him up and set him on the top rail. A huge elephant walked right over to Charlie and stared him down. Charlie didn't waiver and stared right back at the huge mammal and smiled. The elephant rose his great trunk and standing nose to nose he very gently, delicately, and deliberately squeezed Charlie square in the middle of his face. Charlie was delighted, and with his face now brown and green and dripping elephant mucus, all Charlie knew or cared about was that he was kissed by an elephant.

Boobies!

2007-11-29T21:31:00.000-06:00

Liz and I went Christmas shopping for the kids tonight at the Galleria and had Sushi at Crave which is decent, but not great. Service was arrogant and slow. Greta and I saw the movie Enchanted yesterday and loved it. Charlie has a runny nose like Niagara falls and I have have unintentionally eaten more of his snot kissing him than I ever imagined I could stomach. Greta (still) thinks she is Coolio and goes around the house singing 1,2,3,4, get your woman on the floor...she knows all the words. Yesterday morning at Target, Charlie walked past a big poster in the women’s section. The poster was a photo of a woman in a bra and panties. Charlie has about 15 words to his vocabulary, yet as we walked past the poster he pointed toward the woman in print and shared his sixteenth word loud enough to embarrass people in the next county, “BOOBIES!!!!” he yelled. I quickly walked toward the exit… secretly proud of my boy!

Next week: "How does one know when it is time to stop a child from nursing?"

763-867-5309

2007-07-17T19:45:00.000-06:00

So today we (Charlie Greta and I) had a living room dance party. This is something I used to do when I was piss-drunk with a few like minded friends/relatives who might have names like Kati and Pete. Well today no alcohol was involved, but the dancing was just as clumsy. Classic 80's hits like Jenny-867-5309, Maniac, and Walk like an Egyptian could be heard bumpin' from my honky crib. I can only imagine that Snoop Dog does the exact same thing with his kids. Same music and everything.

Regarding dance, Greta is on a fast track to becoming the next female version of Barishnakov. As ballet is a predominantly female dance one could argue that I should learn the name of one female ballerina. But I will not. I dislike ballet, but when you have your own daughter out there in her leotard and tutu doing and understanding a demi-plié in a way that makes all the other girls look (more) like amateurs, a father can't help but feel a sense of pride and a slight tinge of "living vicariously" recalling his chilhood when he was strongly cautioned against donning a pair of ballet slippers when all of his relatively soon to be gay friends were dancing so... gaily.

Charlie has his own footballers style of dancing that involves strong Elaine-from-Sienfield thrusting and seemingly painful head banging against the carpet in sync with the coolie rhythm of Coolio.

Marine our French friend from faraway France will be here really soon! So far we have nothing concrete planned, but hey, Minnesota is a jet setters paradise with attractions like the Mall of America, Murphy's Landing, numerous corn mazes, Paul Bunyan Land, The Iron Range, and the list goes on and on. Just ask Garrison Keillor, he will explain it all to you in his condescending "brought to you by Powder Milk Biscuits in the big blue box" fashion that we all love.

On that note....

Summer School

2007-06-23T13:35:00.001-06:00

My lovely wife insisted that I update my blog; so here goes.

Marine our French student will be coming to stay with us for another month in July. She is a glutton for punishment. We are planning on a trip while she is here; maybe Denver to see my sister Becca. Today we went to the Mill City Musuem's Farmers Market. Not a big fan of that one. It is sponsered by Archer Farms and the whole deal leaves a really commercial taste in your mouth. Plus you have to pay 5.00+ for parking. The Star Trib did a write up this week on how wonderful the market is, but honestly can you believe ANYTHING that paper tells you? I am at the point that I believe the whole paper to be one big editorial section. It is no wonder that they are going under.

Family update:

I bought a small sailboat this spring and I really am loving it. It is a Laser sailboat that I found on craigslist. No it is not a J-22, but we don't live on Minnetonka yet! I have been out several times and capsized twice. We have the only sailboat on our lake thus far, but once I stop tipping over, people might think that it looks fun and get their own.

We are still looking for a house. We went to an estate sale today at our dream house. Unfourtunetly it was sold within the family, so we didn't even have a chance. So if anyone know of an awesome house at less than awesome-house prices, let me know!

Greta is in the Last week of her Summer School, and is all signed up for Dance Lessons in July.

Charlie is equally adorable and whiney (almost as much as me).

Liz is still perfect.

My beautiful new niece

2007-02-18T17:03:00.000-06:00

Weighing in at 6lbs 3oz and 18.5 in; Charlotte Elizabeth!

Some photos...

2007-02-18T15:21:00.000-06:00

As we were driving

2007-02-13T18:50:00.001-06:00

On the way home from school today Greta says to me, " Dad what can I do when I get older?" I tell her about the highlights: paying taxes, employment, voting, driving, college, and marriage. She replies, "Dad, when I grow up I want to marry you..." I thank her and after a few minutes of contemplation she continues, "...and mom can do the dishes." Naturally I accepted her proposal.

Pre Kindergarten and Drink Recipe

2007-02-03T16:25:00.000-06:00

Greta is registered for Pre-K in the fall of 07. She is fully potty-trained and would scoff at you if you suggested she wear a diaper. This preschool business is giving me a glimpse of what parents go through when their kids leave home for college, sniff sniff.
We chose a school in Minnetonka, which is the district where we eventually want her to attend primary school. Minnetonka scores consistently high on their academic tests, and is generally a very nice place to be. We recently made an offer on our dream home in a really neat unique historic area closer to her school in that district. Unfortunately we were turned down. Some things are meant to be, and I was confident that this was one of them but alas I was wrong. House hunting is turning into a sad painful joke for me and although I am certain that we will find what we are looking for someday, I feel callous because I said the same thing about six years ago and here we remain. It is not that there is a lack of homes and lots on the market or that we couldn't call any number of them home, it's that we can't find one that feels right for the right price! Enough whining, this is about preschool. So, Greta will go to an awesome school that has a director who in her free time must go to Mary Poppins School. While not British or an umbrella-flyer, she embodies a love for the children and a stern sense of "lets get down to business, spit spot" that rivals the magic carpet-bag carrying Nanny. I almost wanted to hug her at the end of my orientation tour and ask her to sing a line of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious as we rode off on our magic flying-carousel horses.

In choosing a school, I researched three recommended schools. My criteria was fairly simple:
1)It had to be Christian
2) I required equal emphasis on academics and social skills (Something a family friend Jean Foster taught me is important)
3)Engaging teachers
4)Greta had to like it
5)I had to like it

The school we chose won out on all five counts.
1) It is Lutheran; a good pro-lutefisk denomination.
2) Although it is hard to observe the ratio of socializing and academic work in a thirty minute tour, I did observe plenty of both.
3) Greta wanted to stay when it was time to go
4) The live hamster in the terrarium at the entrance won her heart
5) The hamster was cute.

In conclusion, I must say that I am very relieved to have found the right school and could secure a place for her for the upcoming year. So begins yet another wonderful and frightening chapter.

A big thank you to Jean (Piaget) Foster the great educator's educator who helped me make my decision and provided me the support and knowledge I needed to choose the right school.

Out of the stress of losing a great house and selecting a good school came a new and delicious adult beverage recipe:

Jason’s Lemonade

2 oz Jack Daniel’s
Juice of 1 Lemon
Juice of 1 Lime
1 1/2 tbsp Powdered Sugar
1 tsp Black Currant Syrup
Cream Soda
Ice

Shake with ice and strain into an ice filled glass. Top with cream soda, several slices of lemon and blackberries.

Restaurant Review: Pearsons Edina

2007-01-19T22:49:00.000-06:00

The best way to describe this place: A has-been WASPY supper club that I love. But in its "has beenness", it has taken on a whole new status in my mind. It is a classic Brat-Pack's era country club type place. In spite of the fact that we were the ONLY people in the restaurant to maintain our natural hair color, this silvery detail made for a familiarly comfortable experience. It was like dinner with seventy-five of your closest grandparents. In the sacred heart of the 50th and France neighborhood lies a restaurant that embodies everything that the modern surrounding tenants should envy. Here is a place that forgoes the facade of genteel cheek kisses and gets right down to the Minnesotan approved Swedish Meatballs, Salmon Casserole, Fried Cod, Homemade Bread Pudding and a salad that would make your Grandma proud (canned peas, home made dressing and all). Our waitress was an angel, and ironically that was her name. If you have kids, I would ask for her. She sat us and within 30 seconds we had a handful of saltines for the kids (WITHOUT ASKING!). Two minutes later she brought out a cup of apple sauce (WITHOUT ASKING!) and ten minutes later, a big bowl of ice cream (WITHOUT CHARGING!). This perhaps is not the most nutritional diet for a 10 month old, but not once did our child utter a peep of discontent under the watchful eye of Angel, who by the way has five kids of her own, making her more than qualified to feed our kids whatever she deems appropriate. I only have two kids, what would I know?

Summary: Pearsons: Minnesota food, you will not have gas.
Ask for Angel if you have kids. She provided us the best service we can remember, in or out of a restaurant.
Order a bottle of wine ($20! or less) and have fun.
Ambiance is classic, funeral home style. Food is good, nursing home style (a nice nursing home).

Movie Review: S.S.T. VS S.O.A.P.

2007-01-19T22:40:00.000-06:00

Starship Troopers- Movie Excellence for the whole family.

Which inspired me to see:

Snakes on a plane- Embarrassing, in a way that makes you lose what little faith you might have had in big budget Hollywood films, life in general, Samuel L. Jackson and snakes.

Some Things.

2007-01-11T13:02:00.000-06:00

Charlie is hell bent on breaking his face, and regularly uses it to cushion his falls. Yesterday I thought he chipped a tooth after he planted his face onto the corner of our very pointy coffee table. It is as if the coffee table manufacture truly hates children; the table's corners come to these incredible sloping points that resemble mountainous ice-picks, and for some reason Charlie really thinks his face is a block of ice in need of a good picking. So after his mouth caught his fall into the ice-pick table, out popped a little white nugget presumably a tooth. Well after further inspection of his mouth, it seemed his teeth were fine. So what did he spit out I wondered. It turned out to be a piece of popcorn that he must have got when he sneaked out to a movie recently, because God knows we haven't had popcorn in this house for months. So I grounded him for sneaking out.

Greta and Charlie are both enrolled in back to back swim lessons at the Marsh in Minnetonka. While the non-existent children's locker room situation is an inconvenience, the 95 degree water more than makes up for it. This way, there are none of those embarrassing "warm spots" left by those inconsiderate incontinent children (and adults alike I should assume). The whole pool is one big "warm spot". Disgusting yet delightfully therapeutic all in the same breath. Greta is a fish and would drown happily if left alone near the water. This fearless stage inspires all kinds of fear in me, and so I cannot let her alone near any open water. Charlie on the other hand seems to be petrified of the water and assumes the role of a boa constrictor on my arm. The 30 minute class is for him an exercise in parent inflicted torture. His expression throughout is one commonly reserved for someone who has been told that their plane is going down and not to panic.

My sister Jennifer and her husband Jeremy are nearly due with their first baby. They are expecting a girl that could be named Jasona, but will likely be named Charlotte Elizabeth. Everyone is excited and eagerly awaiting this new baby. If they continue to live in Kentuky, I would like to suggest some additional vernacular names: Jodene, Amber, Bambi, Baylee-Ann, and Brandene. I hope these help guys.

That's all for today.

Four words I never thought I would yell:

2006-12-22T14:11:00.000-06:00

"STOP LICKING THE TELEVISION!!!! "

Geocaching

2006-12-11T21:03:00.000-06:00

So I was at ECFE with Greta today trying to explain the exciting sport of Geocaching to a couple of women who totally just thought I was the biggest dork in the world. One actually said as much. (Thanks Elise.)
Elizabeth, Greta, Charles and I went out this weekend and found a few "caches" with some good friends Ryan, Allyn and Jennifer. Geocaching is basically hiking with a purpose. Albeit this purpose does require the use of GPS equipment; making the sport arguably nerdy.

[Although it is likely an incredible shock to the people who know me, I have to say that I am not the most athletic person in the world. Yes, looks can be deceiving. This is the perfect sport for me. I can walk, and that is the extent of the athleticism required for this activity I lovingly refer to as a serious competitive sport.]

OK, so here is how Geocaching works as I understand it. The "Gatekeeper" summons his minions to the (possibly!) magical cache found via a method similar to that of divining or extending the square beyond the two dimensions of our universe along the hypothetical Z axis. The "Key-master" finds the nonpareil treasure, stamps the official papyrus and rejoices mightily.

I am just not sure how that could be construed as being anything but macho, athletic, cool, (especially cool) and fun.

So Liz is getting me a handheld GPS for Christmas (seriously) along with some more dice for D&D and a Gandalf the Grey costume.

OK, so check out the Geocaching website and before you call me any more names, try it. It's actually really truly fun.

A few pic's for Cousin Sarah, my loyal reader. (btw- I bought three magazines...Go Girl Scouts!!!)

2006-12-07T11:50:00.000-06:00

Here are a few photos that I found on my parents computer while I was searching their hard drive for clues to my Christmas present. I couldn't find anything. I am afraid that no clues=no present.

Santa shops at Macys, Saint Nicholas at Neiman Marcus

2006-12-06T23:38:00.000-06:00

Today we celebrated St Nicholas day. Greta excitedly put her little shoes next to Charlie's littler shoes by the front door, and went upstairs to read a book with mom. St. Nick filled the shoes with chocolates and toys, rang the doorbell, and ditched the house as quickly as he came. We didn't spot him, but Greta is certain that she heard him on several occasions throughout the evening. Greta asked at dinner tonight about the difference between Santa and St. Nick, and after looking at some photos side by side (which is as in depth a comparison as our two year old needs five minutes before bedtime) we decided that St. Nick is just a classier fella. I guess the photos from the movie "Bad Santa" might have been an unfair representation.

Alpha Bravo Charlie

2006-12-03T14:58:00.000-06:00

Here we are, a year later with a nine month old child. So much has changed in a year, and in the same breath not much is new! We have a miracle baby Charles and he is perfectly healthy despite the doctors early warnings that something was wrong. Nothing is amiss, and the doctors and their premature ultrasound and Genetic counseling warnings were wrong!!!

We are preparing for the holiday season, the tree is up and in this coming week we will decorate. Greta will receive more gifts than I did in my formative years combined. Santa must be drunk.

Charles is nearly walking, is climbing stairs, has four teeth and is developing at a ridiculous rate. Of course time doesn't work the same as I age. Christmas came yearly when I was young, and it feels like weekly now.

2006-01-25T15:23:00.000-06:00

Wine tasting at our hotel in Denver

2006-01-25T15:22:00.000-06:00

How Michangelo got started

2006-01-25T15:21:00.000-06:00

spaghetti-os mmm...

2006-01-25T15:20:00.002-06:00

Denver Brewery

2006-01-25T15:20:00.001-06:00

2006-01-25T15:20:00.000-06:00

Vietnamese my favorite

2006-01-25T15:19:00.001-06:00

Tummy time