Im in a arts (and crafts sort of) show this weekend. There will be painters, beaded jewelry makers, etc and me the wood worker.
I have a bunch of old window sashes and build a cabnet to go behind them. This year I'm trying my hand at picture frames made from old boards from my fence and some flower box planters. I'm pretty jazzed but exhausted. I was up till 2 this morning working since I basically have nothing ready and will be up late again tonight. It is a great time though. Looking to make a little dough to give the wife to spend on what ever she dang well pleases and buy myself a couple more disc golf discs.
Im thinking the Valkyrie and possibly a Roc KC Pro.
Now that is motivation.

There moving my cube.
This doesn't involve a forklift and me with a seatbelt strapped to my office chair, but it does involve me packing all my junk into boxes again and making friends with new "neighbors". Not a bad deal though. I'll be directly off the warehouse floor in a little room with no windows and lots of noise... wait, that isn't very cool.
I wonder how long it would take them to notice if I just moved all my stuff to the empty cube next to me instead and kept quiet. I thought about putting police crime scene tape around my cube and then coming in to get my work done in the middle of the night when no one was here. I'm thinking I will probably end up getting moved. If I do does anyone want to help me bust a whole in the wall to use as a door and a window?

The countdown to new baby is getting louder in my head.
June 6 is the due date and we are almost ready. There are a few things that the wife and I want to have done to the house and what not before the girl is actually living in her own room instead of in my wife. I am so ready to meet her though. Me and babies just go well together for some reason, especially since the boy came around. The wife has taught me so much about loving them and caring for them and letting them be free. I love the fact that the boy is learning responsibility and he isn't two. He is obviously my wife's son every time he leaves a room, then returns because he remembers he forgot to put something away. He loves to play in the mud. He loves to throw a frisbee, football, tennis ball, handfulls of grass, kick a soccerball, shoot a basketball, shoot a frisbee like a basketball, blow bubbles, sing songs about his freinds and parents and grandparents, and watch airplanes fly across a "bue sky".
What will Anna be like? How could it be different? Who will be the first boy I sit with in the living room while I sharpen my pocket knife and talk about their plans for the evening? I can't wait.

There are variations of the story. I won't tell you have to believe my version, because I've made part of it up.
The heat was blistering. the slight breeze had perished as it tried to move up the street in a vain attempt to climb the dreaded hill to the vintage house that had been mutilated by various owners and eventually split into individually locked appartments with a communal shower and kitchen. Windows open with a single prop fan drawing even more humidity in. A dog barked outside in the distance, a screen door creaked slowly and my senses tightened. Reaching for my gun and stepping behind the open door to the living room, my lungs burned as a shadow moved up the door frame, paused and slid away towards the stair case.
I eased into the ajoining kitchen, opened the tap to fill the pump action cannon and dusted a roach out of the corner as I climbed behind the staircase.
The beat of his steps were permiating here below the feet. My heart complied to each movement. Even as the figure moved from the stairs to the living room where I had been before. Assured the hunter turned prey was resting (as much as a warrior rests) by the springs in the couch, I stepped from within my hiding place and with ninja like heal-toe action moved to the doorway. He was sloppy. He was actually sitting with both eyes closed. Both opened as the cannon fired and both closed in a reflective impulse. My feet knew what I was going to want and bolted for the door. This is where the recording speed speeds up and the play speed slows down. As most houses do in that neighborhood, there are chairs, couches and coolers on the front porch and spreading into the lawn. The toe of my sandal reached out and clung to one of these items in my path, launching me skyward. I landed on the top of one of the said chairs in the lawn with my face. These aren't the classy finished type of chairs. These are the type you find in the dumpster. The chipped wood implanted itself just below my lip. 4 stiches.
The end.

The wife and I took the boy to the Resurection Trail today at church. What a great thing for kids and adults. They had stations for the stages in Christs death and resurection so the kids could see the stages and experience it in a physical world as well as read the scriptures. They actually had a donkey, palm branches for the kids, a table to count out 30 pieces of silver, a tub for the kids to wash the parents feet, whips for the kids to touch, a cross with nails for them to hammer, vinegar for them to taste, an empty tomb, etc. It was great to see our pastors dressed up as Bible characters telling their portion at their respective stations. It was also great to see the boy's face as he went into the cardbard tomb and out saying "all gone".

Last night at church during worship we sang Everything is Broken. I had no idea it was Dylan. What a great song. There is a specific term used for the Wednesday before Easter. The idea is to realize what state the world is in. Mind you I came in late to the service so I am doing my best to explain based on the partial info I got. But it seems that if we think about the darkness of the world, the brokeness of the world, we will be able to getter a better understanding of the magnitude of Christ's gift of salvation. On any account, the world is definately broken. He is the only restoration we can have.

ok. so I lied.
Just wanted to plug WDVX again. Man. I had a couple of good new CDs (1, 2) and really enjoyed them, but it is dang hard to beat the mix on WDVX.

Thats all.
I'm gone.
Peace out.

nothing to post today. just read something old.
How about my last post?
what?
done already?
I know it was short... try the one before that.
thought so.

I can't wait.

Here is a portion of National Public Radio (NPR) interview between a Boy Scout Troop visiting his military installation:

FEMALE INTERVIEWER: "So, General Reinwald, what things are you going to teach these young boys when they visit your base?"
GENERAL REINWALD: "We're going to teach them climbing, canoeing, archery, and shooting."
FEMALE INTERVIEWER: "Shooting ! That's a bit irresponsible, isn't it ?"
GENERAL REINWALD: "I don't see why, they'll be properly supervised on the rifle range."
FEMALE INTERVIEWER: "Don't you admit that this is a terribly dangerous activity to be teaching children?"
GENERAL REINWALD: "I don't see how. We will be teaching them proper rifle discipline before they even touch a firearm."
FEMALE INTERVIEWER: "But you're equipping them to become violent killers."
GENERAL REINWALD: "Well, you're equipped to be a prostitute, but you're not one, are you ? "
The radio went silent and the interview ended. You gotta love the Marines

I couldn't verify this by searching on NPR, but it is still pretty knock me out of my chair, slap me on the back and offer me a cigar funny.

Caught me a couple of fishies this weekend and even better saw some great fishing bumper stickers.
"Fish tremble at the sound of my name"
"Will Fish for Fish"
"Nymph Phomaniac" - Brave man to put this on his truck. Looked like it could be a gov't required sticker or something.

Too bad I left my freaking digital camera at my desk all weekend charging the battery.

Also,

Elvish


To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
brought to you by Quizilla

See what I wrote about the below album? Did you even read it?
Upon further reflection the album status has moved up on the scale to an unprecidented level.
6 out of 5 Pickled Herrings (this is a good thing).
There is so much truth here. The lyrics are so rich.
Just do it. Order it. I did straight from the web site. It showed up pronto and I've been saying "that's right!" since then.

I ordered this album after a recomendation from one of my pastors.

www.derekwebb.com
It ranks way up there. Great stuff.

Derek used to play with Caedman's Call until he moved here to Nashville. They guys from Jars of Clay and Buddy Green guest as well as others.
5 out of 5 Pickled Herrings.

Well the day you've all been waiting for is finally here.
What? No, I wasn't talking about just another Friday. It is time to pretend to work for a few hours and then cut out a little early and go fishing the entire weekend. Well, I guess that only applies to me, but you are excited for me aren't you?

Here is an email I sent the Friday of our trip last year to our groups distibution list... some things don't change.

History repeats itself. Here is my post from this same respective day last year. I'm a lot more comfortable in my job now, so I'll probably just pretend to work and then just leave. Can't wait.
~~~~~~~~~~
Friday 3/15/02
Dear Diary,
I want to cry. Many of my friends are standing waste deep in a rushing
river and I am stuck here, pretending to work.
I want to get my fly rod from my car and put it together and beat
ruthlessly those who would imprison me in this man made material shaped
into a three walled cell. "Release me!"
Diary, if you had eyes I would say "Do not look at me with pity in your
eyes. Do not look at me with honor as my impatient knees bounce and my
mind wanders to thoughts of Southpaw and campfire embers."
If my anxious heart does not cramp and quit before I leave this hell I will
write again from the water's edge.
BPC

Blogworthy Chain Mail
I get a lot of chain mail, and very few are blogworthy so read on.
With all of this talk of war, many of us will encounter "Peace Activists" who will try and convince us that we must refrain from retaliating against the ones who terrorized us all on September 11, 2001, and those who support terror.

These activists may be alone or in a gathering.....most of us don't know how to react to them. When you come upon one of these people, or one of their rallies, here are the proper rules of etiquette:


1. Listen politely while this person explains their views. Strike up a conversation if necessary and look very interested in their ideas.

They will tell you how revenge is immoral, and that by attacking the people who did this to us, we will only bring on more violence. They will probably use many arguments, ranging from political to religious to humanitarian.

2. In the middle of their remarks, without any warning, punch them in the nose.

3. When the person gets up off of the ground, they will be very angry and they may try to hit you, so be careful.

4. Very quickly and calmly remind the person that violence only brings about more violence and remind them of their stand on this matter.

Tell them if they are really committed to a nonviolent approach to undeserved attacks, they will turn the other cheek and negotiate a solution.

Tell them they must lead by example if they really believe what they are saying.

5. Most of them will think for a moment and then agree that you are correct.

6. As soon as they do that, hit them again. Only this time hit them much harder. Square in the nose.

7. Repeat steps 2-5 until the desired results are obtained and the idiot realizes how stupid of an argument he/she is making.

I'm about to pee my pants.
My annual fishing trip is this weekend with my buddies from college. I'll leave Friday from work and will be sitting around the campfire listening to some buds play the banjo, guitar and sing some classics. About half of us will actually get up early on Sat and fish pretty much all day only to repeat that night and the next morning.

40, 70, 35, 80 this is what the temperature has been doing lately. If you come to Nashville bring a swimsuit and your moon boots. Depending on what free time we could lay out or build a snow man.

This is just sweet

when the heck is daylight savings time switch? I woke up at 6am today (like normal - yet another reason to think that I am already an old fart at 25) and the sun said he had been up for a while, already had a cup of coffee and was working on his second. Sometimes I wish the people who wrote the calendar had multiplied out the days so that it worked out to have the same amount of days in every month and no leap year where we loose a day. They could have had a year that was 2,554 days long and two months that were 1277 days long.

I get to go to a darn good concert tomorrow night.

I've got a buddy who is Marine. This guy and I grew up together. I couldn't even tell you when I met him for sure, but I think it was probably 3rd grade. His family moved here from Texas because of his dad's job. His dad did undercover stuff, so everyone thought he was actually an oil tycoon/drug dealer. John and I grew up in pretty much the same crowd, worked as DJ's together and lived together for a couple of years in college before I got married. He was, of course, in my wedding. He got married as well (I got to be in his wedding) and moved to California where he was posted by the Marines a year or so later where he worked in the Public Relations Department. He worked on screening information given to the press, giving tours to honchos/as. When the conflict started, DJ Nemo was moved overseas. We were all proud but concerned, our only comfort being that he was in PR and not behind a tank turret. I received some great news the other day here about 1st Lt. John Niemann (read the 11th paragraph). We are all praying for you John to return safely along with your fellow soldiers and for Pres Bush as he makes decisions that affect you and the world.

Another friend of ours with simlar origins (except Nathan and I go back to church nursery) had an intersting comment last year at our annual fishing trip, I believe. "The fact that we go for months without speaking, but sit down and after a 10 minutes it is like we were never apart says something about how great our freindship is and what crappy freinds we are."

Some other articles John was quoted in. These are pre-war.
Air Show
Helicopter Landing
Tight Security
Marine Gets Lasik Surgery
Annex to Marine Cemetary