It's a bird, it's a plane....it's an UPDATE!

I think it's high time for a post on my part.

Wow, my attention span is incredible... "A car!!!" Dork. We were picking flowers on the side of the road after a long day of hiking, and Dad just picked these up and hung them on his head. Fortunately, I don't think Dad reads my blog. I know, I'm terrible....but he's so funny! I love you, Tati!

Here we are at Bridalveil Falls. It's really poor quality...(hey, I'm no Andrew)... but hopefully you can see a little bit of what's going on. :) It was gorgeous, even though we got soaking wet...at 7:00 in the evening.

You probably can't see the sign, but it's a strict warning. Do NOT climb on top of this rock! *shrugs* Rules were made to be broken. Actually, no....but let's give Dad the benefit of the doubt and assume that he didn't see the sign. :)

I'll be doing a post about the vacation on my official blog, which is now http://www.loisicuta.blogspot.com/ soon. (I hope.) Xanga just takes too much patience. :)

Roxy likes creepy-crawlies. I don't. Worms are gross. The camera is shaking because we're running down to catch up with everyone else... (**duh**) Which has nothing to do with the fact that I'm swinging it wildly from side to side. ;)

Randomness.

Frequently Updated? ;)

(Hm, maybe we should re-think our advertising slogan ... ;D)

A glimpse of school days at our house ... in case you were dying to know, which I highly doubt you were. :P

School Time Blues

“Get the books out, Emily!” Mom calls above the roar of the vacuum cleaner. Emily gives an earth-shaking yawn and clicks the exit button on her email. Another day, another dollar, or more appropriately--another day, another grade fits this Monday morning.

Ricky winds up the vacuuming and gives another yell to half-awake Emily. By now she has moved to the bathroom—at the pace of a snail—to wrestle her bangs into submission.

Richard, the ever diligent, begins to round up the chewed herd of commentaries and Greek New Testaments. It's a motley lot--most of the covers are long gone, and the spines are covered in aging duct tape. But they do the job at a considerable rate.

Mom rushes about doing a few dishes, getting notebooks corralled, and in between all this, answering the phone’s persistent ring. Grand Station doesn't have anything on this school time rush hour.

One last call to Emily, and Mom settles onto the couch with a worn out Bible, a bowl of cereal, and her glass of water. Richard has already studiously begun working on verses as Emily gets a pair of socks … a glass of water … oh, and of course her Bible.

“Alright, what do you want to say?” Mom asks between a bite of oat flakes. Emily mumbles something like, “...chapter two,” and she’s off on jumbly version of I Peter 2.

Half-way through, the phone lets out another whiny ring. “The answering machine is broken … so *ahem* you have to answer it …” Ricky reminds Mom, hoping and praying it’s someone like the chatty Mrs. Whiffle.

Mom sighs and pushes a few dogs off her lap to grab the phone. It’s Mrs. Whiffle! Never, in all history, has anyone ever been more of a hero than Mrs. Whiffle was to Richard and Emily at that very moment. Air-high-fives are given and a few stifled cheers. It should be noted that Mrs. Whiffle has long ago entered the hall of fame as being the best person to call Mom during school. She's fast and furious when it comes to using the toungue, and can keep the most politically incorrect person on the phone for hours.

“Well, I’m doing school at the moment … ” Mom is saying.

Noooo, that was not what they wanted to hear!

Mom finally escapes from the clutches of that certain talkative lady, and hopes of the “enslaved” fall to the ground. “Now where were we?” Mom asks, fingering her Bible to see which verse Emily was on, “Verse ten?”

Two hours crawl by with the usual interruptions—dogs escaping from the back yard, a hunt for a lost pencil, and salesmen wanting to sell trips to Hawaii ... But that’s life for you—it’s a constant adventure from the first bounce out of bed. You can’t help but love it.