I have a dentist appointment on Monday. I do floss, but nothing about it has ever felt very natural.
Posts Tagged ‘art’
Our youngest will be turning two this weekend. A few mornings ago I was sitting at the table with her waiting for breakfast and thinking about what a wonderful blessing she is in our house. I leaned over and whispered in her ear:
“I love you today and I will love you every day forever.”
A huge smile spread across her face and she looked up into my eyes with complete joy. We shared a few moments like this before she whispered in the softest and most reverent little voice:
Next time I’m saving the tenderhearted comments until after breakfast.
In 2001, my Father and I visited a remote and highly restricted bear viewing area. It is accessible only by float plane and has one food cabin and two park rangers who guide the small number of visitors each week around the area. The rangers stress that the bears in this area are not a threat to people because they are more interested in the fish. However, we were told that attacks were still possible unless you followed three rules:
- Never startle the bears (loud noises, sudden movements, etc).
- Never carry food on your person or eat outside the food cabin.
- Never get fresh blood on your clothes or hands (from fish kills).
Our second night in our tent, I was woken up by the sound of heavy breathing. It was very heavy breathing and it was coming from outside the tent. It was the sound of a curious bear who was repeatedly circling our tent. The huffing and snuffing continued for several minutes before I could muster the courage to wake my Father. I gently poked him and whispered what was happening. My Dad made a snorting noise (that sounded slightly louder than a grenade) and yelled, “there’s no bears here!” before rolling over – never actually having woken up.
All noises outside the tent ceased.
In the silence, the phrase “never startle the bears” blazed in my mind. I held my breath and waited for death.
But nothing happened. No growl, no death, no nothing. I started to wonder if I had been dreaming the whole thing…
UNTIL THE SIDE OF THE TENT BULGED INWARD AS THE BEAR BUMPED AGAINST IT!!!
At this point, I was desperately trying to think of why the bear was so interested in our tent. My mind was spinning in circles until it suddenly screeched to a halt with one thought – I had a Nutri-Grain wrapper in my pocket! Without thinking, I had stuffed it into my pocket when I had been eating in the food cabin.
I had food on my person. It was rule number 2. I was breaking rule number 2!
What did I do? First, I stuffed the wrapper as far down into my sleeping bag as possible and pulled the opening as tight around my neck as I could. Secondly, I panicked. In fact, I panicked so completely that my nose began to bleed.
Nose bleeds = fresh blood.
I had broken all three rules. All three! As I lay there silently pinching my nose with one hand and frantically clutching my sleeping bag tightly around my throat with the other, I wondered how long it would be before the end came.
Obviously, the end didn’t come. The bear continued to circle the tent, bumping it every few passes for about an hour before finally moving off into the night.
Despite breaking all three rules, I lived. Why? I can only assume that the 12 gallons of sweat I had released during the ordeal was enough to ruin even a bear’s appetite.
Last week/weekend I spent a total of four days in a workshop. It was specifically related to my job, but also related to all aspects of life. It was an amazing experience and I absolutely loved it.
The presenter was definitely a talented motivational speaker, but the pace and intensity made me think he must moonlight as a slave ship drummer.
In November, my wife noticed that my coat was looking worn out. She suggested I look for a new one. I nodded thoughtfully and made some noncommittal noises.
In December, my zipper broke. My wife gave me a stack of catalogs so that I could choose a new coat. I nodded thoughtfully and made some noncommittal noises.
In January, the weather dipped to and held at -25 degrees in our area. My wife showed me a reasonably priced, high quality coat in one of the catalogs. I nodded thoughtfully and made some noncommittal noises.
This month, I mentioned that I needed a new coat. I just need to find one that I like. My wife said, “I already told you which coat you like!” A heartbeat later she added, “yes I said that – and don’t put it on your blog.”
I nodded thoughtfully and made some noncommittal noises…
This marks my 250th post here on WordPress! It has also been almost exactly two years since I first began this blog. Here are the last two years and 250 posts worth of blog stats:
- 1 time “Freshly Pressed”
- 82 different visitor countries of origin
- 275 cartoons have been shared
- 765 comments have been left
- 824 individuals have subscribed
- 3,252 visitors came on the busiest day
- 46,981 reposts/likes on Tumblr for my broccoli cartoon
Thank you to everyone who has (and continues to) visit, comment, and generally boost my ego.
When I was young, my haircuts always alternated from bowl cuts to buzz cuts depending on the season. This wasn’t because either were particularly stylish, it was simply because my Dad cut the hair in our house.
His tools were simple: one electric clippers, one neck duster, and an ancient pair of thinning shears.
The shears were a relic from the 30’s (last sharpened pre-WWII), the electric clippers were actually intended for dog grooming, and the neck duster had stiffened with age to the point that it felt less like bristles and more like a wire paint stripper.
Ah, the memories.
Not exactly fond memories, but memories nevertheless.
This week I realized something about myself.
As I get older my socks are getting longer.
When I was a teenager, I wore those really short running socks that are virtually invisible when wearing shoes. In college, I preferred slightly longer ankle socks. In my mid-to-late-twenties it was crew socks. Currently, I wear mid-calf hiking socks that are dressy enough to match my daily shirt and slacks outfits.
If I’m not careful, I may find my eighty year-old self staring at a drawer full of Renaissance-style tights.
Cigarettes are everywhere. I see people smoking them outside stores, used butts on the ground, and rows of them for sale at the gas station. However, I realized today that I actually have had very little to do with cigarettes. Despite seeing them everywhere, I couldn’t draw one with any degree of believability. I finally had to do a quick Google image search to see what the dimensions of a cigarette would be. Even after looking at several different photos I still had to sketch it about half a dozen times before it looked even semi-realistic.
Who knew NOT smoking would cause me problems?
It’s been a great year! My family is healthy and happy, my job is fun, and I wake up each morning excited to see what the new day brings. As everyone starts talking about New Year’s resolutions, I’m having trouble thinking of what I really want to change…
I guess I’ll just have to resolve to keep it up. Happy New Year!
When I log into wordpress to update/upload things to this blog, I see a fancy little graph showing how many visitors visit each day. I have noticed that this has shown some steady growth in daily traffic over the past six months. Interesting, but not something I was paying very close attention to. However, this week I looked at the more in depth statistics and found that over 500 people have subscribed to my blog via email or wordpress!
I feel pretty honored that so many folks are interested in my little sticky note sketches! I also feel pretty bad that I noticed this in a week where I only posted one new comic.
A thousand (or at least 500) apologies to everyone for slacking off this week!
We have a Wii in our house. I want to like it, I really do.
But it’s hard to like something that you are terrible at.
I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that I need to physically move the controller to make the people on the screen move. At first I felt like the proverbial dog trying to learn new tricks.
Then my five year-old beat me in some kind of sword-fighting/jousting game.
About 20 times in a row.
Now I just feel old.