California is renowned for its Indian Summers. As the season wanes, warm weather persists – perfect for an afternoon out on the lake with friends and family.
The Welker family spent many summers in Lake Gregory, a small town in the San Bernardino Mountains. Brothers occupied their time finding various ways to torture their sister, Winnie, and/or create other manners of mischief. (For Harry Potter fans, I have always envisioned older brothers Bill and Ray as the muggle version of Fred and George Weasely.)
Little Johnny Welker was the youngest of the bunch. Continue reading
I spent this morning’s commute trying to explain to my sons the concept of death. Continue reading
My email address hasn’t changed in seven years (and that was only because I got married and changed my name). During that same time period, there were three physical residences.
It’s hard to keep track of people’s addresses these days. Maybe because snail mail has become a relic to the point where our (now 4.5-year-old) Search and Destroy think the “mailman” drives the UPS truck. (Tangent: Happy Holidays. Love, Amazon) Continue reading
I was just finishing up a project after spending the wee hours of the morning driving down to Gramma and Papa’s house. I signed off, “Without further ado…”
“Don’t you mean adieu?” inquired Gramma J.
Did I? Ah, mother. “When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.” (Apparently from Shakespeare’s “Much Adieu About Nothing.”) Perhaps this called for a song to appropriately end a conversation of such foolish or unnecessary talk. “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. Ado, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yooo…”
Search and Destroy received fishing rods for their birthday. So this past weekend, we headed to a local pond where a friend had assured us fish were practically leaping out of the water to eat bait.
“That was the thing about nature: make one lousy rule to describe it and it’ll contradict you even if it has to transmogrify and metamorphosize and bust its ass to do it.”
– The River Why, David James Duncan Continue reading
PapaStavo turned 70 over the weekend.
In 1944, $1 was the equivalent of $12.43 today. Europe was in the throws of World War II. But in a small abode precariously situated in the province of Verona, Italy, a boy was born.
So I packed up the boys and headed south for the celebratory shindig. Continue reading
Today I realized this little blogging endeavor of mine has been going on over four years. My sons’ lives have quite literally been blogged since birth. In no way has my story ever arced the way I expected – I guess that’s partially what keeps me writing.
Thank you for being part of my journey, and for reading the highlights behind the headaches and hilarity that Search and Destroy bestow upon their ever expanding world.
In honor of Stream of the Conscious’ fourth blogiversary, I give you a few of the more memorable comments I’ve actually heard myself saying. Continue reading