Westmoreland Asays

Warning for the light of stomach: this post might prove offensive. Like all posts, I take no responsibility for your reactions. Meg took Aaron to Sears on Friday to get his 4-year old pictures taken. While waiting for their appointment, Edward barfed all over the reception area (the diagnosis afterward was too much kool-aid too quickly). Aaron was ultra-cooperative during his photo shoot, so it went by quickly, but even so the mess had been cleaned up by the time they hit reception. On Sunday, after hosting the missionaries for dinner, we were all sitting in the family/living room listening to their lesson, when Aaron decided it was his turn to puke. The missinoaries took it right in stride, noting that this was the second time this week someone had puked while they taught a lesson. Diagnosis: too much tickling by Dad. Edward and I spent the last half of church sleeping in Bernice . I took Edward to nursery, but he was beligerant at the thought of me leaving. So he sat on my la

When Aaron took his turn in the hospital, it somewhat overshadowed our recently completed trip to the coast at the end of September, so I never got around to finishing the story. So now it is done. I like to post things with the dates they happened on, so I'm pointing it out here so you can find it easier (for all you BizanBandit/Capital City Asay diehards).

The rain broke off for a few days, so we knew it was time to find a Christmas tree. It's amazing how many people opt for an artificial tree around here--the Christmas tree capitol of the world. Instead of supporting an important, local industry, they choose to throw their money into the coffers of the evil big_boxes. I've been reading the Journal of Discourses every commuting-morning for the last few months, and though there are many unusual--if not controversial to the modern LDS train-of-thought--words spoken from the pulpit (President Hinkley would NEVER remotely speak about most of the things that Brigham Young and his contemporaries did), they are interesting and valuable to read. But one idea that stands out is that B. Young condemns the man who has 10 cows but can only use one--he said the man will be damned in the next life because he was denying another man--one willing to earnestly work--from making a living. I think it is easier to get around this today, bein

Thursday After spending the early morning by letting the boys jump all over me and Meg in our bed, I drove to Leslie and played football with some fellows from church. We played tackle, and I came away with some bruised wrists--at least nothing happened to my poor, poor ankles. It was freezing and raining buckets (we set a new record for total amount of rain in November--once again attributed to mom and dad leaving our fair state), so we didn't play for more than an hour. Last year was probably more fun; I think playing tackle is just a little harder and requires more brute strength than skill or speed . . . We then drove up to Sherwood to enjoy what was probably the quietest holiday gathering at the Booren's that I have ever experienced. We were the only direct family members there, and the only other party was one of Grandpa Booren's cousins who lives in SW PDX, I belive. So we ate and ate and ate, and I even left room for some chocolate pie. Friday I think I just wa

Aaron gave the scripture (Psalm 100:4) and prayer today in Primary. Meg and I practiced with him throughout the week, and he nearly nailed it from the stand, missing only a small phrase in the middle. But he kept going and didn't let the mishap get in the way of his smooth delivery. Quite the contrast to the time he was asked to give his talk a few months ago . . . Edward also attended Nursery all by himself today, as it was the first day that Meg wasn't in there as the leader (she's now working with the Cub Scouts). He has been to other Nurserys before and did all right, but he was somewhat problematic in our ward when Meg was in there with him. He can get very jealous if Meg or I are holding or playing with another kid, but he has always been well-behaved when we're not around. But don't we all act that way sometimes--that is, we act all proper and dignified when around guests or people we don't know well, but when we're around family and friends we

The notion of the Brothers Pox proved to be false. I suppose it is easier to mis-diagonse something when circumstances are fresh in memory, as one of Aaron's pre-school "teachers" at Sprague came down with the Pox, and the boys sprouted mystery red marks on their body within the week. The mystery spots were likely scratches or scabs that occur naturally with young boys. So the only real event of the incident was that Aaron got to wear his pajamas on three consecutive days.

It appears that Aaron and Edward have contracted the chicken pox. Stay tuned for the related fall-out.

I had class on Halloween, so I missed trick-or-treating for the first time in a few years. But at least we shared Monday together, carving intricate designs on the pumpkins Aaron and Edward had captured on their three trips to the Pumpkin Patch this month. Apparently our neighborhood is a popular place to load up on treats; Meg saw many people from our ward who don't live in the neighborhood, and she herself ran out of treats well before the trick-or-treaters returned home. Aaron spent most of the night trick-or-treating with a family whose boys (twins in second grade, but they come over and play on occasion) live down the street. Rumor has it that whenever the homeowner offered the kids their choice from the booty bowl, Aaron would first look for some bubblegum. Aaron doesn't like gum, but he got it to share with me, for he knows how much I like gum (although I'm trying to eliminate my habit of chewing all day at work). What a sweet boy. Edward failed to think t

Despite being a Ducks fan for as long as I can remember, I had never been to one of their football games. But there's always a first for everything. Megan's brother Jared kindly gave me two tickets to the Ducks vs. PSU Vikings game--tickets that just don't come much better. We were three rows from the 37-yard line ; we could easily tell who the players were (including little Megan's friend from McNary, Kylie McCrae ), and if Aaron's voice were any more powerful, he would have had a few conversations with the PSU players. The weather, while a little cold (but which was nice because Aaron was able to don multiple layers of Duck paraphernalia, including Ducks pajamas, Ducks sweatshirt , and Ducks winter coat), was sunny and rain-free (although we were on the shady side of the stadium). I've seen the stadium a million times on TV, so it was so surreal walking up the steps to the concourse, and upon entering the stadium . While it is certainly a large venue, i

As a family we attended a ward halloween party on Saturday night, where we happened to sit with Aaron's primary teacher during dinner. She told us that while Aaron can really bellow out the words to the songs, he occasionally sings the wrong verse. I think we all do that from time-to-time, but his volume is so great, that the other children often follow Aaron's lead--and remember, Aaron is the yongest kid in primary. We got to see Aaron perform first-hand today, as it was the primary presentation during church. And while I can't recall him singing the wrong verse at any time, everyone seated in the chapel could certainly hear Aaron's distinct voice. I'm not sure why I teared up while watching him perform with such excitement, but it was a very special moment for me. During their last song, "Scripture Power," the kids all thrust their scriptures into the air whenever the sang the words "scripture power." Meg thought for certain Aaron was goin

When my runs take me through the heart of the city (as opposed to quiet inner city residential 'hoods that are a plenty), I encounter an intense variety of sights, sounds, and scents. I've run into (almost literally) former co-workers, friends from the old ward in Beaverton, and lots of homeless men and women, and certain intersections, I swear, smell just like Japan (i.e., raw sewage is loose nearby); But today was different. Today I was attacked by a dead pigeon--or at least that's what it seemed like. I was nearing the end of my workout, running along the banks of the Willamette at the south end of Waterfront park. Flocks of pigeons were stalking the grounds looking for food, and they didn't like that I was tresspassing through their feeding grounds. So they started flying away, some almost colliding with my trajectory. My focus shifted from keeping pace to keeping pigeons out of my face, when out of the blue some raggedy-looking lady makes eye contact with me,

I was dining on fresh seafood and fluffly chocolate mousse in the basement of the downtown Portland Hilton Monday night--in company of co-workers--when unbeknownst to me Meg was rushing Aaron to the hospital. Fortunately, Meg and the boys were at the Booren's house--first, we didn't have to worry about Edward, and second Grandma correctly diagonsed Aaron's symptoms and told Meg to get Aaron to the hospital immediately (Meg's older brother Josh had asthma in his youth). Meg felt somewhat overprotective taking him when he didn't appear to be in any immediate danger, but the medical professionals all reassured her that this decision was imperative to Aaron's well-being. Meg knew that I was going to be working late on Monday, but I never thought to tell her that I was going off-site. I don't own or carry a cell phone, so she had left a message on my office phone around 8:00 p.m., which I wouldn't listen to until after the fact. But, around 12:30 a.m. o

I took Friday off from work so we could leave early for the coast. We had reserved a Yurt at Beverly Beach State Park, and despite the fog that covered HWY 101 on our way in, the rest of the trip was relatively warm and sunny and clear. We brought hotdogs to roast in the fire, and Aaron actually gave up being a vegitarian-who-doesn't-eat vegetables and ate one (or at least most of one--he really wanted the s'mores that were contingent upon eating something of substance). I ate like five or six--I'm the hot dog champ of Oregon, I tell ya. On a side note, we had a number of BBQ's on the veranda outside our third-floor at ADP, and I always put away more hotdogs than anyone. It's the small, skinny guys that can usually pack it away (that's why the Japanese can always trash the fat Americans at eating contests ). Anyway, sometime that afternoon Meg got a serious migraine, so she retired with Eddie to the yurt early while Aaron and I had a nice talk around

Tonight marked my return to the college campus--specifically UCLA (University of Chemeketa on Lancaster Avenue). I worked there for a very brief week during my sabbatical of 2004, but this time I will stick around for the entire school year, and I'm paying money this time to take a course (actually four--20 credits spread over the school year) in Networking , and which should prepare me to take the Cisco Certified Network Associate ( CCNA ) test. Taking the class will help me better understand the technology I work with and how to train others on it, but having CCNA certification would be a boon for my boss (and I've already been rewarded just by intending to take the coursework), ADP pays for me to attend class (100%, assuming I get a "C" or better), and it would increase my chances of getting a job should my current situation sour (I have a history, you know--but I'm hopeful this is the last job). I'd be a bona-fide "technical writer," or "tr

For the first time since we moved to Salem--excluding the four days of "training" before Hood-to-Coast--I ran on a weekday. In Beaverton I ran in the mornings before work, but getting up at 4:15 a.m. just doesn't appeal to me. We have showers and lockers in the building, but I've just been too lazy to bring my gear in. My reward has been that I feel more languid, I tire more easily, and my weight has neared 180 pounds (post-mission starting point). Running on Saturdays for an hour while pushing Edward just makes me a weekend warrior, something I never thought I would become. Something had to change. So to celebrate the return of warm temperatures in the valley, I slipped into my running shoes at mid-day and pounded the pavement (and grass) of downtown Portland. I recall when living in Beaverton as a single guy, I once drove into Washington Park on a Saturday morning and ran for an hour or so through the quiet streets of downtown--I always thought it cool to run i

For those who haven't visited lately, we have about 30 sunflower plants growing together tightly like a jungle in one corner of the yard. Meg despises them--especially since they've lost their golden yellow splendor, the heads began drooping, and the stalks began leaning over the paths in the yard because the heads are so full of seeds--but I've been looking forward to what should be a bounteous harvest--and just in time for beginning of the baseball playoffs. So the boys and I began harvesting the sunflower seeds this week. We've plucked the seeds from four of the heads so far and filled to the brim two coffee cans (the cans used to hold our food storage staples (flour, rice, etc.)). Tonight Aaron and I sat on chairs on the concrete slab just outside the back of the garage, and pulled seeds from what was probably the biggest head of the lot. It took us about an hour to finish, and I was impressed with Aaron's effort--he probably saved me at least 15 minutes

Our First Visit to the ER Fortunately it was only for a "minor" illness that Edward caught that drove Meg to take him to the Salem Hospital Emergency Room at 3:00 a.m. Friday morning. He had been sportin' a fever last week, but it came back with reinforcements late this week--topping out at a crispy 104.7 (KDUK style--on a side, another nice thing about living in Salem is that we get reception for radio stations in both Eugene and Portland). So Meg took Edward while Aaron and I slept the last few hours of the night. Selfless Meg tried her best to make it home before 6:00 a.m.--and she did--so I could play basketball with my friends like I always do on Friday mornings. Meg unanimously won the prize for best lead mom in the role of nursing a sick child back to health. From my perspective, Edward took the whole thing in stride; he lost his appetite (he eats like a king who just collected his taxes), clung to Meg every second he could, and didn't sleep very well at

Aaron's cousins Jacob and Caleb Jones of Monmouth spent Friday night with Aaron, and lucky for the boys that the SP&S 700 was rolling into Salem Saturday morning. We got there right as the train was arriving--and frankly, that was the highlight; that train was wicked loud and quite a sight to see it rolling down the tracks in Capital City. After it stopped, we waited in line for about 30 minutes so we could tour the engine and the caboose. The boys were somewhat wild and anxious waiting for their turn, but with Meg and Michael working hard, it was easily contained. There really wasn't much to see inside the engine, so we were on our way within two minutes. Yes, if you haven't guessed it, this entry is all about adding a few words with almost as many l inks of the many pictures we have of this fine event. If you scroll down to the bottom of this web page , play the video and see if you can spot Megan in the crowd.

Tonight was Trophy Night at Bush Park , so we had to be there. Being that I had already embarrassed myself within the past week from my poor running, there was no need to show again how poorly trained I am. So Aaron got to enjoy all the attention in the 500 meter race. He started off well and was having a blast running with so many other kids. But as we got through about half the race, he started whining and crying about how tired he was. His face was all red, his breathing was clearly maxed out--but that's no excuse, right (at least for quitting before crossing the finish line ). I did my best to encourage him and coach him to the finish line, where he got the number 40 popscicle, which translated to 4th place in the 3-4 year old boy division--just one slot shy of a trophy (I know his pain all too well). I think he finished around 3:30, but I won't know until I find the official time posted on the web. Aaron then had fun playing with Eliza Peterson , a girl a few month

Here's the condensed version of H2C 2006; see my races blog for the gritty dirt on the actual runnin' and racin' (although I won't finish this for a while, so be patient). My team turned out to be a good group of guys to hang with for the weekend--oh, and to run a 197-mile race with. I believe all of the guys were lawyers, most of them in their mid-late 30's. So I was the baby on the team. I was scared about running the race, because I hadn't trained at all and, frankly, my 8-10 mile runs with Edward on Saturday mornings (which I have missed from time-to-time this summer), didn't give me much of a foundation. I ran about 4-5 miles each day of the week leading up to the race, but these runs served more to help me to remember to focus while I ran (I'm usually the tour guide for Edward, always looking out for stuff to show him), as well as to get my body somewhat acclimated to running again; they did nothing to help me physically run long and fast. Team G

I know that I said I wouldn't run the Hood to Coast relay again, unless I ran on a team with Steve Prefontaine , Sebastian Coe , and Said Aouita . My main gripe in 2004 was that our team lacked the competitive edge, which led to some of us running extra legs or switching our lone easy leg for another hard one because some team members just couldn't cut it. But I have figured out a great methodology for running Hood to Coast in the future. I wasn't even thinking about the relay--let alone signing up to race--until last week, when a few co-workers mentioned that they would be participating . . . As the race draws near, there are tons of teams publicly looking for substitute runners. Team abilities run the gamut of competitive to slow. Some teams even offer to pay for everything (which amounts to a couple hundred bucks)--they'll even go so far as to pick you up and drop you off. So if you wait long enough, you can find a team desperate enough to essentially pay you to run.

I took today off so we could celebrate our anniversary (Meg is going to work on Wednesday, plus it was more convenient to take time off consecutively). Even though we hired the boys' favorite babysitter, Katie (a very distant cousin, actually), Aaron was terribly upset. He ran up to his room and hid under the covers, crying. He normally welcomes a sitter with excitement, so this was strange. He of course quickly recovered once we left, and he was all smiles when we returned home that evening. While driving downtown, we stopped by a couple of used car lots to find the elusive Celica. I've decided I'd rather have a two-dour faux-sports coupe than a 2wd pickup. I rarely drive as it is, so why not have something fun and economical. I refuse to buy anything fancy or expensive or new, because I can't justify it, but I've thought about older Preludes, Celicas, Integras/RSXs, Civic SIs, and 240SXs, but the Celica best fits my needs and personalities. Alice (our Corolla)

Meg and the boys picked me up at the office in Portland around lunch time, so we could attend Meg's sister Sara's wedding at the Portland Temple . We had arranged for our Beaverton babysitter, Courtney, to meet us there so the boys would have some supervision while we attended the ceremony. She last saw them four or five months ago, but she commented that they both seem so much bigger and developed since then. I believe Sara was married in the same lucky 13 room that me and Meg did nearly six years ago . . . After the ceremony and lots of pictures (what a struggle with two energetic boys ), we left for Sherwood. We changed our clothes, and I took the boys to the nearby park. It's a pretty amazing place for a city park: two soccer fields, basketball courts, two or three different playgrounds, and a mock beach (water fountains and a huge sand pit). THPRD in Beaverton was the ultimate neighborhood park, but there is nothing like this at all in Salem. Sara and Matt held

Meg went into the office for a full day of work on Wednesday, so we interned the kids at a neighbor's house for the day. When I got home, the garage was open, and the house was empty. So I figured Meg had just beat me home and was picking up the boys four doors down. In the distance I spotted the crew walking home, so I went to meet them in the middle. Meg was pushing them in the double stroller, with Aaron sitting in the front, crying. I figured he was just sad to leave (he really enjoys having friends come over and vice versa), but apparently a hornet had stung him on his right shin. I carried the wounded boy into the house and gently layed him on the recliner, as he was whimpering that he couldn't walk. Meg concocted a salve of water and baking soda, and lovingly spread it over the affected area. For the next hour or so, we babied him as he watched cartoons on DVD, until he perked up again and was running around as usual. No abnormal swelling, and no apparent fear o

Aaron was assigned to give the talk in Primary today. I think we all forgot about the assignment until Sunday morning, so we didn't talk about it nor did we practice with him. Aaron likes to talk until the cows come home, so I figured that he would enjoy speaking in front of his peers. Boy, was I wrong. I stood at the back of the room, holding a sleeping Edward, while Meg coached Aaron. He went up to the stand just fine, and was flashing his smile as usual, but he squirmed and wiggled and refused to give his talk. I can't say that I've witnessed a talk in Primary in the last 10-20 years (i.e., I have nothing to relate to in short-term memory), so I'm not sure if other kids act like this, too. The two of us talked about it that afternoon, and he told me that he was "scared" and "frightened." Maybe with some practice he'll do a better job next time . . . he is, after all, the younest kid in primary.

Friday Hands-down the best weather I have ever experienced during the summer on the Oregon Coast. I have seen warmer, clearer days in October--which I think is the best time to visit--but I was very happy with what we were dealt. After work and dinner at home, we packed Bernice and made it to Lincoln City just before sunset. Meg was itchin' to see a sunset, but the boys, who had fallen asleep in the car before we even crossed the Willamette, and who woke up as soon as the engine turned off, were whining and wanting to hit the beach house for a real bed. Meg's boss owns a quaint 2BR, 1-bath house, and she graciously let us stay for the weekend (Meg and I had previously visited in 8/2001). The house lies a short five-minute walk from a relatively quiet beach, where few visitors ever come. Saturday The Word held tradition by waking up first, around 6:30 a.m. So we got up and had breakfast, and then Edward proceeded to wake up the straglers with his vocal playing wi

Saturday Meg was hosting a party for an acquaintence on Saturday morning, so we three boys drove to Hood River to see Thomas the Tank Engine at the Mt. Hood Railway . It was pretty much the same stuff as last year, only today it was warmer and dustier . There was a small petting zoo the boys went in, but when you're only 15 months old, it must have seemed like being caught in a stampeed. Both Aaron and Edward seemed to have a good time , and were both somewhat dissappointed when it came time to leave. Ironically, they spent most of their time playing with the toy trains ; we have what I think is a better setup at home, but I guess the newness factor won them over. Monday After Meg took the boys to their morning music class at the church, we drove about 25 miles east to Mehama for our 7th annual Independance Day Hike (see our history for past hikes ). We hiked about 1.5 miles up a gravel road (closed off to traffic a decade or so ago) to Shellburg Falls. The falls res

After some 40 years of a near continuous presence in Salem/Keizer, mom and dad have left the valley. I thought coming home from Japan to a new house and neighborhood was going to be difficult. But this trumps everyting ; there's now nothing to come home to. It's pointless and self-centered to say that I'm the biggest loser with this move, but I feel abandoned. I'd wager that all of us siblings are upset and or disappointed, but maybe I'm just a poor whiner. No more plucking fresh raspberries and blueberries straight from the vine, no more fancy_friday meals, no more Duck bowl games on big screen tvs, no more McNary ball games, no more Los Arcos (although that's probably a good thing) no more grandma and grandpa for Aaron and Edward, no more refuge in Keizer. Our house is always open for those who still want to visit Oregon. We currently have a spare bedroom with futon, an extra bed in Aaron's room, a big backyard to pitch a tent, and a Sienna in the ga

For the past ten years, I have been searching for one of my baseball gloves. It was a nearly brand new Rawlings infielders gold glove (top-of-the-line for its time)I bought it used from a friend before my senior baseball season had ended, and I was still working it in by the time I left for the Provo MTC. But that was the last I ever saw of it. After returning home from Japan, it took a while to gather all my personal belongings, and the glove was the only major thing I couldn't find. I searched the attic for hours at a time during my school breaks, discovering little things here and there, but always missing the prize. And so it became a long-standing joke that whenever mom and dad were in the attic, I would ask if they found my glove or not. I increased the frequency of my questioning as they drew nearer to moving, because they spent a lot of time up there. But still no luck. I still had my original Rawlings glove, but years of Oregon rain and the countless turning of doub

Megan 's baby brother, Paul , has been called to serve in the Ghana Accra Mission (the same Ghana that eliminated the lackluster Americans from the World Cup--double drat). Meg's sister, Sara, conferenced us in while Paul held his press conference from Sherwood; I recorded the call (without anyones permission--please, no one sue me; perhaps the best part of the call is the side-banter between Michael and Meg), so we can all relive the excitement over and over again. Technically, Meg won the guessing game of where Paul would be sent, although Aaron provided the inspiration and Michael provided the names of countries in Africa where the church sends missionaries (remember, I won a national geography award in 7th grade--thanks Witt and Painter). I think it surprised most of us, because the previous three Booren siblings had all served in the US, so we figured Paul would, too. This of course reminded me of my experience opening the big letter from the Office of the First Presi

I spent most of Saturday playing best ball with the Pringle ward at Oak Knoll Golf Course . We all know that I play once a year, but I never let that embarrass me. My long game is usually a lot better than my short game, but I nailed a number of mid-range puts when no one else on our four-man team could, and a couple of my better drives turned out to be the best. It always amazes me how long it takes to play golf; at least six hours had passed before we finished 18 holes (I've always played nine). I feel silly for being tired after playing, but I did the math, and I walked around five miles for the day--so somewhat similar to going on an easy hike in the woods. I still think golf is a game, not a sport . . . I got to stay in bed until 9:00 a.m. on Sunday (although Aaron was crying my name at 4:00 a.m., and I had to spend a few minutes to ease him back to sleep). It's probably been years since I haven't been up before 7:00 a.m., so I greatly appreciated the chance to b

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a craigslist junkie--for buying and selling stuff only, of course. Which might be surprising, because we all grew up buying "new" things (granted, there were far fewer markets for buying used things back then). I've found great deals (none of which was stolen goods, I believe) for good used stuff--my Dell Axim, my DSL wireless router, and my N64 system and sundry games. And I'm guessing this is where I will find a Toyota pickup to buy, should that day ever arise. But anyway, we have never sold anything via craigslist before until yesterday. Meg wanted to sell some of the extra controllers and games we've accumulated from buying used stuff in packaged deals, and she found a want ad for exactly what we had. So she made arrangements for me to meet the person at the 7-11 across the street from my office. Everything in the email correspondances id'd the person as a women. And when I walked into the parking lot, I s

Short but decent article on Schreiner's . It's hard to believe how old these guys look; but I know that I look the same to them. Although Steve always comments that I look exactly the same, before going in to tell all kinds of stories that I have alas forgotten. I watched Ray's son, Ben, pitch against South Salem a couple of months ago. He was fun to watch, had a lot of talent.

The original Megan Asay graduated from McNary High School on Friday, nearly 40 years since our mother did the same. It's sad to think that mom and dad will be gone in three weeks, after so many decades of consistency--we always knew where to find home. Making a trip to Utah just won't feel the same . . . We all met up at Los Arcos in South Salem for celebration dinner and mariachi music. That's their favorite hangout, so I guess it was appropriate. Megan and I prefer to find new places to try, although we do have our own favorite in the Spaghetti Warehouse. Saturday Megan and I met up with some friends who now live in Aumsville. They lived just around the corner from us when we first moved to Salem six years ago. They consider themselves recovering mormons--or pagans, as they like to say. But all things aside, they are nice, fun people. After dinner at the Original Roadhouse, we hit the Firebird Lanes bowling alley for some intense boys vs. girls competiti

I suppose now that a week has passed, it is the fair time to rate our Memorial Day weekend. Meg's Departure Meg and the boys picked me up at the office in Portland on Wednesday, and we spent a couple hours hanging around the old office (technically, I worked in Old Town, but in a few years they will sell that building and all move to the airport). As soon as we left Meg at security, we three boys began our 5+ day adventure without female influence. It all went downhill from there. I lost my ticket to get out of the parking garage; luckily I found my receipt--along with some 19-year old girl's drivers license (don't ask me where that came from), and the lone gate worker took pity on me and let me out. Aaron somehow found solace and sleep in the ride home, but Edward sensed the loss and cried the whole way home. Thanks for the foreshadow, second-born. California Dreamin' Meanwhile, Meg met up with her Sherwood-era friends Shannon (now based in Utah) and Susa

A couple of weeks ago, we bought a mini-van: a 2000 Sienna XLE . After selling the small_time dealer Jack (the Maxima), we paid $8000 for a van that has only been driven 50k miles--by far the best deal in town. It has very comfortable leather seats, sliding doors on both sides, and captains chairs in the middle row. The back row pops out, but only with lots of sweat and muscle. It's totally Meg's vehicle ; I've driven it maybe twice since we brought her home. I now drive Alice. She's doing pretty good, even after 14 years and 150k miles. I usually only drive 5 miles a day--to the Albertson's and back, where I'm picked up and driven to Portland. I'd like to get a mid-90's Toyota pickup, but Alice isn't worth anything and I don't have any spare cash lying around (c'mon ADP stock--move on up!). So we'll live with two girl vehicles for the time being . . .

They finally made if official . I fought it with zeal, but alas, the Capital City Asay's will be the last remaining in Oregon. Hooray for roadtrips and White Christmas's!

Aaron, when asked, said he really wanted to run in the Awesome 3000, so we signed him up. The race now accepts kids ranging in age from 3-18, so just about anyone who wants to race can do so. I never ran in the race myself, but that's the life of a baseball player, I guess. He's been informally practicing the last few weeks in anticipation of his big race: every trip up the stairs is a race, every visit to the mailbox is a race; and every, et cetera. I did take him to the local dirt track to practice running in a formal environment, but we only ran two short laps--nothing special. Aaron was in the last heat of the last race of the morning. He was running against fellow 3-year olds. As soon as it was his heat's turn to take walk to the starting line, he sprinted to the front and the volunteers had to hold him back; we'd had to wait for about 30 minutes, so he was anxious to run. I was most proud of Aaron because he finished the race without stopping all whi

It almost feels like cheating, having access to the realtors' properties database, but without it we might have missed out on this one. We have been looking hard for about a month now (after almost a year's worth of planning and thinking and praying), and I've been carefully monitoring any new properties that have come to market. Last week a nice house in the Foxhaven neighborhood came on, but it was about $60k more than we wanted to spend. So this afternoon when a new listing appeared for a house on that same street--but for $70k less--I hit the speed dial to Meg and announced my find. I didn't even know all the details when I first told Meg, but as I poured over the listing, it just kept getting better and better--4 bedrooms, an office, and a 3-car garage (Meg's favorite part, I think). Meg called the realtor immediately, but couldn't get a hold of her (she was at a lengthy funeral); but we decided to drive down there anyway, and left a message with the

It only took a day. Within 24 hours, our realtor had found a buyer for our house. They offered us an amount matching our asking price, so we are more than estatic. Closing is tentatively set for March 30, so we'll be moving out that time--back to the Booren's of Sherwood, but this time for most likely a lengthy stay. Although Centex appears ready to accept reservations for Nottingham Woods. In the next few weeks, Centex should be providing the pricing for the houses they intend to build, and they will begin accepting reservations on Saturday, March 11. So we'll know shortly if this option will work or not. We spent most of Saturday looking at houses in Cambridge and Foxhaven (the boys slept through much of it in the car). Some of the houses had serious flaws (no shower in the master bathroom--and only one in the whole house), while some were so old and outdated it was painful to look out--but all were overpriced and had realtors who seemed oblivous to the fact. These