Weekend Update



Sorry about the turned pictures, something is wrong with my camera and I haven't had time to figure it out.
We have told the Hoodlums for along time now that they are too big to ride with us on the lawn mower. Milo is the only one that bawls long enough, that we finally give in.

I love my weekends off.  Love them.

Friday the 13th started off really well, and only got better. The Mutt, who has officially been designated an "outside dog", obviously not babied any less, (see first picture) has finally aged enough to get neutered! It was a big day for everyone! Emma summed it up really well by saying, "Yay! Milo won't be piggybacking me anymore!" His way of expressing his love has really been obnoxious as of late. The kids have to sprint to the trampoline anymore these days, and if he reaches them before they hit the ladder, well........

His appointment went really well. The little tank is already 65lbs. at 6 months old, and the Vet said he would be an 85 or 90lb dog easily. Great. Hopefully, the surgery will stop the "piggybacking" because if he actually gets that big, I think we would be venturing into felony territory, should any of the neighbor kids come over.

We decided to hit Strawberry "first thing" on Saturday morning for a little fishing. Dawson and his fish addiction are cramping my grocery budget, so we thought we would try and catch some trout for dinner.  "Early" has different definitions for everyone, but our family position  seems to be, have really good intentions, then get there when you do.

It was crazy cold, but the marathon hike with a 99% grade helped to keep us all warm.



Em got tired of not having any fish to measure, so throughout the morning we got dimensions on everything else.



Stupid camera, does anyone know why all of a sudden it won't let me rotate pictures?

Who doesn't love hiking through snow in May?

Saturday afternoon, Em and I decided to make some "cookies." While we were working in the kitchen, I heard a loud thunk on the sliding glass door. I walked over in time to see a bird rolling down the steps. I didn't think much of it until 5 minutes later, I heard another thunk. Same bird, rolling back down the steps. Hmm.

About the 5th time I noticed that the bird was crapping on the door/porch/stairs everytime he flew himself into the door. I opened it and screamed at him to fly away, which did NOT, do the trick. By the time Dave came home the porch was covered in bird shit and feathers, and I had my music turned up really loud to try and drown out the chinese bird torture.

Dave is extra sensitive to little noises, especially repetitive noises, (which is why I always put a dime underneath my drink in the holder, so it rattles and drives him crazy) Anyhoo, he tolerated the kamakaze bird for all of two seconds before he had chased it off with a broom. We had a few moments respite until I heard the familiar thud on the front of the house. The psychotic bird had just made its way around to the window on the front of the house and was trying to die thatta way.

This carried on through the evening on Saturday, and when I awoke to gunfire and Dave sneaking back into bed early Sunday morning, I gave thanks that we live in the country and that Dave feels comfortable shooting birds off our front stoop, in his underwear, on the sabbath, Amen.