On the ferry to the island...

We like to play a little game of "Who cam get there iPhone out and
take a picture first?"

I like to let her win.

Smoo-Shee and Kud-El...

From the planet Dargus...

When Good Dogs Go Bad!

A FRIEND OF A FRIEND...

This was Mr. Mister. He was a cow raised by my pal Andrew for the
exact purpose that you see in this photo... And he did his job well.
Mid rare, actually. With grilled friends Mr. Yam and Mr. Sweet Potato.
Mmmmm...

Carry on. :)

A Gift From My Wife

"What You Took From Me"
A Trevor Wight Original Work, now hanging on my wall... Awesome.
www.trevorwight.com

I want to go there...

- the VICTORY HAMMER S -

Anything with the word HAMMER on the side - excluding a box with some
actual hammers in it - has got to be awesome.

Go South, Young Man

We started our adoption process in the Spring of 2007. An exciting adventure, one I looked forward to but had me scared silly. Our goal was to adopt two children from Kenya, siblings as per the law, both 4 years of age or under. These past 2 and a half years I've thought of nothing more than those two children. Slowly the months passed on, and nothing. No confirmations, no letters, phone calls or emails of encouragement, anything that could shed some light on the proceedings. It felt like everything had ground to a halt but no one knew it. All our communiques with Kenya go through our adoption agency, Sunrise (sunriseadoption.com), a great group of people eager to help those hoping, wishing, desiring to have children in their lives. Unfortunately, the updates we got from Kenya were few and far between. Just this past June, I received a call from Sunrise advising me that Kenya had approved us... for one child. Two just couldn't be done. Bitterness, anger, frustration, tears, confusion. My goal through this journey was faithfulness. Trusting that God would honor our faithfulness in Him, and that He would provide us with these two children from this place. Once I was able to, I dunno, process the information, I could sit back and take inventory. I found myself in the same, wonderful position - nothing had changed. My goal was to still be faithful, because God had not changed His plans. His time is not mine, and what I think is best is not always what He knows is best. Anyway, I knew I had to continue this walk, being as proactive as I could, all the while trusting that God would deliver the goods to us. And please be aware, when I say I, I most certainly mean "we"; my darling wife and I have weathered this together the whole way, and there is no other way to do it. We will celebrate our 10th anniversary in October, and out of my 34 and some years, they have been the best. My beautiful bride is a great source of love and strength and tenderness when I need them. And I need my share of those things.

So we had a meeting a few weeks ago with Doug, the director of Sunrise. Through the last few years, he had been sending out emails to a number of his clients stating that, "A newborn has just come into this world in the US that needs adoption; if you are interested, contact us." There were always more details, of course, but I would push those aside thinking, "No no, our babes are coming from Kenya." "Who says?", I now think to myself. In our meeting, we spoke in depth with Doug about the situations - ours and Kenyas. Kenya, being in Africa, plays by different rules. Things go slower, much, much slower. Communication is limited, and frankly, none of us knows what's going on. These poor folks at Sunrise want so desperately to place children in all of these homes but cannot, and they don't know why. Their frustration was palpable, and in the middle of what I was feeling, I found myself feeling for them as well, not being able to do the jobs they set out to do. As for our situation, there was a bright and shiny side to the murk - like floating in a bog face down for two years and then one day deciding... to roll over. There was the light. Doug - who is a warm, sensitive and extremely capable man suggested to us that we might look to the US for our adoption. K and I decided it was a great option. This idea of course was completely new to us after the time and energy we'd spent on Kenya - spiritual and emotional energy spent, drained. But Doug walked us through a number of options. I said to him very plainly, "You have 20-plus years of experience. I want to choose what you would choose."

And so now, we have opened up our adoption to the US - South Carolina, specifically - and although there are no promises, we could have a child within 4 to 6 months. And I mean a newborn, just days old. So, we are excited about this. It's unfortunate that I'm at this stage where I don't feel as much joy as I would think I should, but my hopes aren't ready to soar too high just yet. That time will come and I will be ecstatic and a blubbering, teary mess no doubt. Now, there's nothing I think of more than our little babe in our arms.

A page from the Sky Mall mag... What is that logo?!

Not so much...

Somewhere Between H&E

10 Best Picture noms at next years Oscars...

Thoughts?

Mother?

Whatever happened to the Good Neighbor Policy?

Alright, I'll assume there is no such policy. I suppose really it's a state of mind. A code that one lives by. Certainly something I was raised to respect: if my neighbor wrongs me - and I'm referring very literally to my next door neighbor - I should approach them on a personal level, face to face, and do my best to mend the situation, best foot forward. Simply because we are neighbors. We are co-inhabitors of a relatively small space in this world. We cross paths on a daily basis. We are NEIGHBORS. This is all the more important when you live, such as I do, in a townhouse complex. there are no fences to separate our lives; we share the same strip of grass in the back of our homes. We can almost see each other sitting on our respective decks if it weren't for the hideous cedar bushes masquerading as some sort of privacy assurance.

So why - why why why - would someone forego the 3 minutes it takes for a little face time and opt instead to head inside, pull out a pen and paper or perhaps sit in front of a computer, and jot something down to the higher authorities in the form of a complaint? What fears are present in this persons life? What deeply rooted insecurities do they suffer from that they must avoid speaking to their neighbor in a respectful, mature way? What arrogance and ego. Speculative, of course.

I don't get it. There are some neighbors I would rather not talk to and if I never saw them again it wouldn't change my life one bit. But you're dead wrong if you think I'm not going to knock on their door and say, "Can we discuss this for a moment?"

Yes, I do understand there are rules and guidelines, codes of conduct and preferred methods of interaction, and I suppose when you it comes down to the brass knuckled tacks of the thing, I can't fault someone for wanting to follow the letter. But doing so instead of keeping or making peace? Really? that I don't understand.

✽ Yes We CAN ✽

So any text...

... Inserted after a photo is deleted, whereas text inserted before a
photo gets placed after on the page.

Test #3 - photo w/Text

My lovely bride

Test #2 - Photo

First. Post. Ever.