Now for something Completely Different

Here's a little something we've been working on to add to our Easter sidetable:



Minion Eggs!

Here's How To Make Them



1.  Dye some eggs a good deep yellow. (Head egg-dying bunny, Theresa, shown here)  Some of our Minion eggs were "blown out," the rest, boiled.  Note: we found it works better to dye the blown out eggs before emptying them, as the dye just fills the "blow holes," otherwise.

 

2.  Take a bit of blue foam or doubled-up construction paper, cut out as shown above -- approximately 5 1/2 inches long by about 1" tall -- with little suspenders notched in. (Or the "bib" on overalls) Then  add details with a  black sharpie and hot glue into a circle for little overall egg stands, as shown below.





3.  Cut a piece of 1/4" black elastic (though black paper would work, too, I'm sure) to fit around your egg. 

4.  Glue 1/4" googly eyes (or eye) to the elastic inside 1/4" silver eyelette (smashed flat)

--Alternatively, silver sparkle paper (got ours at W-mart) can be cut into "goggles" very nicely

 

(Should look something like this)



5.  Draw the mouth on with a black sharpie if it's an empty-headed Minion, but you might want to use food-writer markers for the hard-boiled Minions to be safe.  (You can get Wilton fine tip food writing markers at Joann's)
6.  Hot glue all the pieces to the egg for the non-edible Minions, but leave their accessories removable for the boiled eggs. 

We love Minions!

(Fair Warning: the following clip is perfectly full of bad imitative behaviour...)

We're working on making some props for our little Minions next...  We're going to make little guy a diver and use a bent straw for the snorkel (We saw this idea in Family Fun magazine).  And we thought it'd be fun to figure out how to make a butterfly net for another one...  The possibilities are endless!  Except...  We haven't figured out a graceful way to give them arms...Or hair.  Poor little armless, bald  Minions.  Any ideas?

Following the Path to the Cross

with Abbot Gueranger, O.S.B. in The Liturgical Year

Tuesday in Holy Week

Today, again our Saviour sets out in the morning for Jerusalem.  His intention is to repair to the temple, and continue His yesterday's teachings.  It is evident that His mission on earth is fast drawing to its close.  He says to His disciples: 'You know that after two days shall be the Pasch, and the Son of Man shall be delivered up to be crucified,.' (1)

On the road from Bethania* to Jerusalem, the disciples are surprised at seeing the fig tree, which their divine Master had yesterday cursed, now dead.  Addressing himself to Jesus, Peter says: 'Rabbi, behold, the fig tree, which Thou didst curse, is withered away.' (2)  In order to teach us that the whole of material nature is subservient to the spiritual element when this last is united to God by faith,Jesus replies: ' Have the faith of God.  Amen I say to you, that whosoever shall say to this mountain;  Be thou removed and cast into the sea! and shall not stagger in his heart, but believe that whatsoever he saith shall be done, it shall be done unto him.' (3)

Having entered the city, Jesus directs His steps towards the temple.  No sooner has He entered, than the chief priests, the scribes, and the ancients of the people, accost Him with these words:  'By what authority dost Thou these things?  and who has given Thee this authority, that Thou shouldst do these things?' (4)  We shall find our Lord's answer given in the Gospel.  Our object is to mention the leading events of the last days of our Redeemer on earth; the holy volume will supply the details.

As on the two preceding days, Jesus leaves the city toward evening;  He passes over Mount Olivet and returns to Bethania, where He finds His blessed Mother and His devoted friends.

In today's Mass, the Church reads the history of the Passion according to St. Mark, who wrote his Gospel the next after St. Matthew; hence it is that the second place is assigned to him. His account of the Passion is shorter than St. Matthew's, of which it would often seem to be a summary; and yet certain details peculiar to this evangelist were evidently furnished by an eye-witness.  Our readers are aware that St. Mark was a disciple of St. Peter, and that his Gospel was written under the very eye of the prince of the apostles.

In Rome, the Station for today is in the church of St. Prisca, which is said to have been the house of Aquila and his wife Prisca, to whom St. Paul sends his salutations in his Epistle to the Romans.  In the third century, Pope St. Eutychian had translated thither, on account of the sameness of the name, the body of St. Prisca, a virgin and martyr of Rome.

1.  St. Matt. xxvi. 2
2. St. Mark xi. 21
3. St. Mark xi. 22, 23
4.  Ibid. 28

* Where is Bethania, exactly? It is a village in Palestine, fifteen furlongs, or one mile and three-quarters, east of Jerusalem, at the base of the southwestern slope of the Mount of Olives. It is not mentioned in the Old Testament; in the New Testament it comes into prominence as the Village of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and as the scene of the great miracle of the raising of Lazarus to life by Jesus. Here Jesus often received hospitality in the house of his friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus; and near this village Jesus ascended int Heaven. The most accepted etymology of the name is Beit-æAniaæ, "House of Misery". The Talmud derives the name from Beit-Hine, or Betæuni, "House of Dates". The modern name of the village is el-æAzariye, so called from the memory of Lazarus. (Catholic Encyclopedia)

Following the Path to the Cross

From The Liturgical Year by Abbot Gueranger, O.S.B.

Monday in Holy Week

This morning Jesus goes with His disciples to Jerusalem.  He is fasting, for the Gospel tells us that He was hungry. (1)  He approaches a fig tree which is by the wayside; but finds nothing on it, save leaves only.  Jesus, wishing to give us an instruction, curses the fig tree which immediately withers away.  He would hereby teach us what they are to expect, who have nothing but good desires, and never produce in themselves the fruit of real conversion.  Nor is the allusion to Jerusalem less evident.  This city is zealous for the exterior of divine worship; but her heart is hard and obstinate, and she is plotting, at this very hour, the death of the Son of God.

The greater portion of the day is spent in the temple, where Jesus holds long conversations with the chief priests and ancients of the people.  His language to them is stronger than ever, and triumphs over all their captious questions.  It is principally in the Gospel of St. Matthew (2) that we shall find these answers of our Redeemer, which so energetically accuse the Jews for their sin of rejecting the Messias, and so plainly foretell the punishment their sin is to bring after it.

At length, Jesus leaves the temple, and takes the road that leads to Bethania.  Having come as far as Mount Olivet, which commands a view of Jerusalem, He sits down and rests awhile.  The disciples take this opportunity of asking Him how soon the chastisements He has been speaking of in the temple will come upon the city.  His answer comprises two events:  the destruction of Jerusalem, and the final destruction of the world.  He thus teaches them that the first is the figure of the second.  The time when each is to happen, is to be when the measure of iniquity is filled up.  But, with regard to the chastisement that is to befall Jerusalem, He gives this more definite answer: ' Amen I say to you; this generation shall not pass till all these things be done.' (3) History tells us how this prophecy of Jesus was fulfilled:  forty years had scarcely elapsed after His ascension, when the Roman army encamped on this very place where He is now speaking to His disciples, and laid siege to the ungrateful and wicked city.  After giving a prophetic description of that last judgment, which is to rectify all the unjust judgments of men, He leaves Mount Olivet, returns to Bethania, and consoles the anxious heart of His most holy Mother.

The Station, at Rome, is in the church of Saint Praxedes.  It is in this church that Pope Paschal I, in the ninth century, placed two thousand three hundred bodies of holy martyrs, which he had ordered to be taken out of the catacombs.  The pillar to which our Saviour was tied during His scourging is also here.

1.  St. Matt,. xxi. 18
2.  Chapters xxi, xxii, and xxiii.
3. St. Matt. xxiv. 34


The Gospel of today's Mass:
John 12, 1-9

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany where Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised to life, had died. And they made Him a supper there; and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with Him.  Mary therefore took a pound of ointment, genuine nard of great value, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and with her hair wiped His feet dry.  And the house was filled with the odor of the ointment.*  Then one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, he who was about to betray Him, said, "Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii, and given to the poor?"  Now he said this, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and holding the purse, used to take what was put in it.  Jesus therefore said, "Let her be -- that she may keep it for the day of My burial.  For the poor you have always with you, but you do not always have Me."  Now the great crowd of the Jews learned that He was there; and they came, not only because of Jesus, but that they might see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead.  S. Praise be to Thee, O Christ.
P. The Lord be with you.  S.  And with thy spirit.

* What did this oil smell like?   NARD (Spikenard) is used even today as an essential oil with healing potential for stress situations and is also said to be useful in many other applications, internal and external.  When freshly crushed, the root has a very sweet scent, but as it is produced (by steam extraction) into the oil, it is a more semi-sweet, musky odor.

It retains its scent indefinitely when kept in a closed jar or container, and can be reconstituted if it dries out by placing into a closed jar or container and allowed to have a room-temperature curing time.

Palm Sunday



 Prayer following the 8th Antiphon as the Celebrant reaches the foot of the altar after the Palm Procession:

Let us pray.

O Lord Jesus Christ, our King and Redeemer, in Whose honor we have sung solemn praises while carrying these branches, grant we beseech Thee, that, wherever these branches may be carried, there may the grace of Thy blessing descend, and every iniquity and deceit of the devils being routed, may Thy right hand protect those whom it has redeemed. Who lives, etc.

Amen.

Where the branches were carried at our house:

Some Links for the day (and a few for planning the coming week):



Entry Into Jerusalem by  Pedro Orrente c. 1620

 *  Palm weaving posts with links here and here. 
* A plethora of links for Palm Sunday and Holy Week activities can be found here  and here  and here.
*  You can find a little background of today's liturgy, along with traditional customs at Fisheaters.
*  The Catholic Cuisine file of awesome Lenten recipes and ideas through to Easter can be found here. 
*  And below please find a coloring page to click and print:

April 15th, 2011

Still a little chilly here in the mornings...

(Taken early in the morning, while driving through Shavano Valley, near Montrose, CO)

All Aboard!

* This is a repost for my pal,  Mighty Mom.  I had posted it briefly about a month ago, then took it off because I wanted to spend some time editing it.  But... Time?  What time?  Haven't had any....  So..  Anyway, here it is again - undedited -- for anyone else who might want to read more than they ever wanted to know about train travel!

From the end of February, 2011:  I mentioned I had some pictures -- and a little gossip -- from my latest train ride over the mountains a couple weeks ago, so if you're all set  to come along with me... Here we go!

First a view of the inside of my train car: 

How the trains work:  When you buy your ticket at the depot, you're assigned a train car (if you aren't in a sleeper), but you can choose your own seat in the car -- on the upper level, separate from the sleepers.  You stake your territory, as shown above, by putting your ticket over your seat near your overhead rack area.  The tickets are color-coded to indicate your stop -- so if someone's snoozing, the conductor can make a quick tour of the car and quickly identify who he needs to wake up before a stop.  If the other passengers haven't already done that for him.

Train travelers are amazingly companionable folks.  I've had many a lively conversation with my car-mates, though I've never had to share my seat space.  There are two seats on each side of the aisle and most people traveling alone claim two seats together if they can.  I'm told that during busy times of year, like around Christmas, and in between certain stops, like Reno and San Francisco, the train can get pretty full, however, and lone travelers don't get to be 'lone.

Still, even with a seat companion, compared to a plane or bus, train seats (cross-country, mind you!) are very roomy and comfortable. I'm sorry I didn't think to get a good picture of the set up, so I could show you how cushy it is.  The seats all recline pretty far back and have foot rests that pop out like a recliner.  There's also a pull down tray, like in airplanes -- but there's so much room between where you sit and the seat in front of you that you have to lean pretty far forward to use it. Given that fact, you can imagine that there's TONS of leg room - or room for whatever you want to put at your feet -- all your luggage, for instance -- which is what I do.  Plus there's a lot of room between the two seats on each side of the aisle, with armrests that fold up so you can turn sideways if you like and put your feet up on both seats.

The luggage specs on Amtrak are very different from airline travel, too.  Each passenger is allowed three checked-in bags of 50 lbs or less, plus two carry-ons, also 50 lbs or less -- besides any purse,  laptop, baby bag and/or medical equipment. And you aren't charged for anything you bring on within that limit.   Most people, especially on the day routes, don't check luggage,  and I think I'd avoid it if I could even on a longer route, because, once checked, your bags are just stuffed in some open bins inside the door of one of the cars; you can go and get it or get something out of it any time you like -- which is good and bad.  It's convenient that things are so simple and accessible, but then dangerous, perhaps, that things are so simple and accessible.  Anyone who wanted to steal your luggage could do so with little trouble.  Anyone who wanted to plant a bomb in a bag on a train and then just walk away could do so with basically no checkpoints or resistance.  But, I don't think that would happen.  Train folks are incredibly nice for the most part.  And why would anyone want to blow up a train? (If you have a reason, don't tell me, OK?)

Interesting fact:  Most trains let you check on a bike if you like, at no extra charge if it's within your luggage limit.

On one trip across the mountains last year I ended up in a car with a young mother and her two little girls.  The momma was overwhelmed and exasperated after having traveled all night from Omaha before meeting up with the Denver crowd heading to California, her ultimate destination.  Somehow or other, the little girls ended up spending more time with me than their mother - which was ok.  We did origami and drew pictures and talked about cows and birds and why not to throw pieces of paper at the other passengers.  And their momma took a nap.  This sort of thing is somewhat common on the train in my experience.  Most everyone tries to help out with youngin's -- and most everyone is sympathetic when they're out of sorts.  The only time folks really fuss is when the parents just let the kid run wild all over the train.  That's annoying.  But you rarely see it, as the conductor patrols the cars making sure that it doesn't.

Interesting fact:  This young mother's littlest girl had a "diaper explosion" incident and was able to get into her checked luggage for a change of clothes, got a mercy "cut" into the sign up sheet for a shower.  Since the Zephyr serves 32 depot stations, spanning seven states beginning in Chicago and ending in California, it provides showers for those passengers whose trips are over several days.



On the way out of Denver, heading west, the train passes the "Big 10 Curve.” Winds can be so strong here that" hopper cars," welded to the rails and filled with sand, sit on an adjacent track to act as a windbreak.



Here's something that was annoying, though.  On my last trip there was a college-age young man who talked to his mother on the cell phone -- incessently.  And loudly.  And the discussions -- every one of them -- were whiny and obnoxious.  I wanted to turn around and slap the kid.  It seems his estranged father owed him some kind of "child support" money to help ease his way in college and he hadn't received the check.  He wanted his mother to get ahold of his dad, her ex-husband, and make him send money.  She wanted him to take care of it, himself.  You should have heard his end of the debate.  (Heaven knows the whole train heard it!)  The kid was even pulling out the alligator tears to twist his mother's arm. And then he'd instantly switch gears and yell at her!  Every couple of hours the whole long ride, either he called her to whine, or his mother called him to complain.  I could have choked that boy!  And then reached into his cell phone and choked his mother!  Argh. 

But, the conversations that predominate on the journey really are not normally so irritating. They're usually pretty stimulating, always friendly, and sometimes side-splittingly funny.  Though I didn't paticipate in it ( I didn't dare!  And it was just too much fun eavesdropping...)  -- there was a long and engrossing discussion going on behind me one train ride, debating the plausibility of just about every social issue and conspiracy theory you can name.  By the time I got off the train, a college age threesome, the grandparents across from them, and the guy with MS across from me had come to the conclusion that:

1.  Bush was not necessarily involved with the 9-11 attack, but he may have known it was coming.

2.  The worst thing that ever happened to America was the welfare system because it made people think they were entitled to things they didn't work for.  (This coming from a group of people most probably in the lowest rung of America's economic ladder, mind you!)

3.  College is not an entitlement.

4.   All the Middle East has to do to completely cripple America is to stop selling us oil.

5.  Flavored coffee grounds aren't as good as flavored creamer.

~ And lots more, let me tell ya!  This is just a sample....



Rounding corner after corner, the Zephyr climbs into the mountains, passing through countless little tunnels, then reaching the Continental Divide, it passes over to the western side through 6.2 mile long Moffat Tunnel.



.



All the rivers and lakes are still frozen solid in the high country. 



Interesting Fact:  Because the Zephyr is a cross-country train, it has beautifully complete accomodations for dining.  There is both a dining car and a sight-seer lounge and cafe. An hour or so ahead of the "dinner hour" ,when the Service Attendant comes around with his clipboard. passengers sign up for dining car space.  In order to make best use of space, you can't reserve your own table, but share with whoever else signed up for your hour.  The sight-seer lounge is located on the upper deck of the train and is completely surrounded with windows, clear up onto the ceiling.  The views from this car are amazing!  There is a cafe just below the lounge, where sandwiches, drinks and snacks can be purchased throughout the journey.

Interesting Fact Joke:  The entire California Zephyr trip from Chicago to California is listed as taking 51 hours and 20 minutes.  Maybe possible.  (But probably not.)



Winter Park, Colorado, outside of Fraser has a long-standing argument with Alma, Colorado about which town is the highest incorporated municipality in America.  One moniker that Winter Park can claim, though, is the "Ice Box of America," as tempuratures of -50 are common there in the winter.



I've never taken a train trip that both arrived and left on time.  This last trip, we were delayed two hours getting out of Denver because of a death on the train.  (I never did find out any more about that.... Like, was there foul play?  Any scary suspense music in the background when the conductor came across the corpse? Was Jessica Fletcher on board?)  But, anyway, other than the occasional untoward event, there are always strange, unscheduled little  stoppages. They're expected.  

This last trip, along with the late start, we had an hour's delay near Rollins Pass while we waited for some other train to pass by before we could continue. But, what the hey?  It's all in a day's train travel. I've never heard grumbling or whining among the passengers about delays; folks that sign on to ride the train know what they're in for...  And anyone who knows anything about trains has plenty of reading material, sodukus, crossword puzzles, knitting, etc... 

All that and most everyone brings a good relaxed attitude.



Check out the cool effect of the skier jumping behind the netting.  Click to enlarge if it's hard to see.  See her pigtails flying? :)



This looks like a lake, but it's actually a very large  field of snow.

 


Granby, Colorado, I think.



Interesting Fact:  A coach class ticket (purchased now to travel tomorrow)  from Denver, CO to Emeryville, CA -- one way --  runs  $245 -- and takes 33 hours and five minues (give or take a few hours...). 

It's another $261 for a "roomette" which features two single bed,  bunk style, two reclining chairs, and no bathroom, but meals are included -- along with a daily paper.  A "superliner" room features  a bunk with a full lower, a large couch and complete bathroom with a shower and all meals included and delivered. For $707.

For the full trip, from Chicago, IL to Emeryville, CA, coach, you'd pay only $292!   For a superliner room, it'd be another $1433.  A bargain, huh?


Mountains and snow.  Passed lots and lots of mountains and snow.

.



And cows.  Lots of cows in Colorado.



Smoking, of course, is not permitted on the train, so whenever it's time for a station stop (which is about three times, I think, between Denver and Grand Junction), all the smokers stampede for the doors to stand on the platform and smoke.  They are warned continuously, via the loudspeaker, not to light up on board, and are re-warned when they get back on after station stops to not bring their cigarettes back on the train with them.  Once, when we were stopped on top of the mountain for over an hour for no apparent reason, it was obvious that some smoker's nicotine withdrawal had gotten the best of him, as the distinct smell of cigarette smoke wafted up to the upper cars through the stairwell outside the bathroom down below. 

 Everyone looked at each other and smiled knowingly and there was some laughing and giggling, because we all knew who the culprit was...  There was a gentleman with a long braided ponytail and a duster coat who'd gotten on in Denver when I did.   He was a very pleasant, "down home" kind of guy, with a two-pack a day habit -- one of the ones that barreled down the aisles whenever the train came to a full stop so he could puff down a cigarette or two while he had a chance.  Having been several hours between stops, there was no question in our minds who was in the bathroom sneaking a smoke.  And, well, I guess it was no surprise, a train being a very small space, that the conductor "got wind" of the smoke too. It wasn't long before we all heard an impatient voice over the loud speaker:  "There is to be NO smoking on board the train!  Anyone who is smoking will be removed from the train.  Right here.  Right now!" 

Pause---

(Remember, we were in the wilderness on top of a mountain)

"And we know who you are!"

About this time the pleasant, ponytailed gentleman came sauntering up the stairs. Smoke still hung about him.  He  started to head to the frontof the car toward his seat, but when he heard the snickering behind him, he turned around toward us and affected a very elaborate bow. Everyone applauded. 

Not that I condone smoking, mind you.  On the contrary.  But, I have to admit I admired the twinkle in "Ponytail's" eye. And it was a distraction we all appreciated.  



God is a wonderful landscape artist.  I should say He is thee Landscape Artist.



So, anyway, here we are at the end of the tracks.  The Zephyr stops in Grand Junction at a little old, antique railway station (that I dearly wish they had the money to restore!).  Unlike the other stops on my route, this station stop has a gift shop and a restaurant attached to it, the Pufferbelly.  According to Davis family legend, our oldest daughter, Michelle, got her nickname, "Chicky" from a waitress at the Pufferbelly.  But I digress.  Though I enjoy stopping at this station for its extra amenities, what I love best is that my family can come running out onto the platform alongside the tracks and surround me with hugs and kisses the minute I step off the train.  My welcoming committee.  Don't get that at the airport!

Hope y'all enjoyed the journey.  As you know, I always do! 

Seven Years Ago Today

This little guy was born:


Gabriel Joseph



This sweet child is a treasure.  A blessing.  A gift. Like every one of our children. 

But he was one that had a bumpy road getting here.  Here's the story in a nutshell:

  I'd had blood pressure problems from the beginning of the pregnancy (my ninth) and was being watched like a hawk by my dear doctor, on bedrest from about the fourth month on.  (Ugh.)  At the beginning of our 34th week, Dan took me in for a regular check up and our OB (who, btw, never once questioned or pestered or even cocked an eyebrow at delivering our 9th child) determined that I was escalating into preeclampsia.  All the signs were there: very high bp, protein in the urine, and a change in my platelet count. But I felt fine.  Fine, mind you, for a forty-year-old mother with eight home-schooled kids that she's been managing from her bedside table for three months....  But, really, I didn't feel at all different than I had at my last check-up.  I'd just as soon let this baby "cook" a little longer and go home and correct math papers.  Really.

"Aren't we being a little hasty?"  I said.

 "Preeclampsia," he said. Like the voice of doom. 

" But," I said, "it's fine. I'm fine."  And what I meant was that I felt no great sense of urgency and, "Doc, will you please stop hyperventilating; I think you need a pill."  Not that he was really hyperventilating, but, at the time, I really felt like he was more agitated about the whole thing than necessary. I knew then and know now that eclampsia is nothing to mess around with, but I guess you don't go through as many childbirths as we already had,with all the mishaps we'd already lived through, without learning a certain measure of calm.  God was in control; we just weren't worried. 

Anyway, Dan and I walked down and around the hallways of the hospital -- skipped "Admitting" as instructed, and went straight to" Labor and Delivery," where I got strapped in, hooked up and generally dithered over for a while.  Then, Baby Gabey hiccuped or something in utero, wherein the powers-that-be decided I needed mag chloride to stop eclampsia from rearing its ugly head.  And, perhaps it was a good thing they did, because who knows when it might just decide to pop in with seizures and all kinds of other maternity ward horror story fare -- but, honestly, to this day, I think the mag was unnecessary.  It hung in my system forever.  And it's awful stuff!  

But Gabe was delivered by c-section a short time later -- thankfully not by an emergency incision.  He was the cutest little peanut you ever saw.  He weighed in at just over 5 lbs -- and was whisked away immediately to the NICU, where he was cared for by some of the best neonatal nurses this side of heaven.  But he was there for a month -- and we lived a solid hour from the hospital.  Ugh.  And, because of the c-section (and the drug-induced brain fog) I had been warned to refrain from driving for two weeks.  But, between Paul and Dan taking me and my inclination to break rules, I got into town nearly every day.  There's no way I would have missed going, even if I'd had to walk.

Moms, you know this.  Any new baby is like an addiction to its Momma.  We need that baby's presence as much as that baby needs us. And I think it may be more true after a difficult pregnancy and an unconventional delivery.  Mothers of NICU babies especially need to know their little (little, little) ones are safe. They need to feel touch of that unbelievably smooth and velvety premie skin, the curl of  little tiny fingers around their pinkies, the sound of beeps going off everywhere, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant soap, the hushed voices of the NICU staff... 

Ah, those baby days in the NICU -- getting to know our itty bitty son, almost as well as we got to know the nurses and the parents hovering around the nearby incubators.

But, our Gabe made it out just fine.  He was a favorite of the nursery and was known for smiling and laughing (Yes, really! Laughing!)  before he'd even reached his official due date birthday.  He snickered in the nursery a couple of times and laughed out loud from his car seat as we carried him through the parking lot to finally take him home. He charmed the bejeebers out of the shuttle bus driver who toted us to our car that day.  He was such a tiny, cute little papoose, people everywhere stopped to take a peek at him.  And he's still delighting us now. 

Our Gabriel.  He's a keeper.

Pics from Gabe's party weekend:


Since it's Lent, Gabe's big (well, biggish -- half the family isn't actually here...) family party  was on Sunday, last. 
Here you see his monkey tree thingamacake.  Yup.  Store-boughten.  But good.  And I can't tell you how much mileage the trees and the little blue monkeys have gotten around here since Sunday.  (Dear Lord, save me from little blue monkeys!)

 

And what's left of the two dozen monkey cupcakes we made for Gabe to share at school today.  (They look a little traumatized, don't they?)



Here's the start of the Monkey Maze I made for Gabe to share with his friends at school on his birthday, too.  When I was a teenager many moons ago, working with pre-schoolers, we used to make these all the time.  Didn't bother us a bit to spend hours bent in half with a piece of chalk in our hand, drawing lines all over the concrete.  No biggie then.  But, let me tell ya it's a biggie now.  I don't suggest this exercise for a forty-something person...




Can you get the basic idea of the design?  It's similar to hopscotch, but more involved and no "stone" is used.  On each square you chalk in either a "1" on the left to hop on the left foot, on the right to hop on the right foot, a "2" to hop with both feet, a "3" to hop with two feet and touch one hand to the ground, or a "4" to hop with both feet and touch both hands to the ground.  Lots of fun, good exercise, and good practice with numbers for little ones. 




And here's Anna on a left-foot-hop square.

 After all my back-breaking labor on the monkey maze, I don't think I saw Gabe playing on it.  He was too busy playing bocce ball.  His Dad found the set when I asked him to bring the sidewalk chalk to school, you see, so there was plenty for everyone to do at recess.  (Dan and I were at the school subbing for a couple of classes so two of our teaching Sisters could attend and sing for a funeral today, incidentally, so we had the extra benefit and blessing of being around Gabey at school on his birthday.  :0) 

Then, later on Gabe got is mac-n-cheese and hotdogs for dinner and got to open his presents after Theresa got home from choir practice.  (Matchbox cars and tracks mainly, and a glow-in-the dark drawing thingamajig I found on sale at W-mart) He received phone calls all evening from his far-off siblings and grandparents and his Aunt Nina. And, then to bed after prayers and hugs all 'round.  A good day.   Gabey seemed pleased.

Happy birthday, Gabey Baby!
I love you!



The World According To Gabey

"Why do the sun's eyes look all googly like that, Gabe?'
"Because the planets are spinning around him, making him dizzy."



"What's with the stripes on Mars, Gabe?"
"Plain red is kinda boring."




When you're in Kindergarten, the world is all about letters.  In fact, Gabe informs me that, though we can't see them unless we're in space or looking at a globe, the earth is covered with letters, as you see  illustrated, above.  And you can see that mountains figure very big in our world (the big points on top of the U.S. you see there...)  If you look really closely, you can find a teeny tiny little stick figure Gabey waving near the base of the mountains. "Hi, world!"