TAKE OVER

Hey guys its been too long!! Not for me because I didn't even know that this blog exists. You may say but Chris, you were the one who created this blog. Well yes he did. But Lora is taking over!!

I was looking back at the past posts and I realized how adorable I was( Look at my dance pictures).

Over the years nothing much happened except my little brother Beck was born in 2011, My dad lost his job in 2012 so we moved to Texas. I moved to Young Women, Tess got baptized, and my dad got laid off again.

Anyway tell your friends about this amazing blog cause LORA IS TAKING OVER SABER-TOOTHED SQUID!!

The Strange Case of the Haunted Battery, Mr. T, and Scooby Doo

As usual, for Halloween I constructed myself a costume of cardboard and duct tape, which I wore on my head. This year, I was a Duracell double-A battery. (Easy to build. A nightmare to paint.)

Ian was Mr. T. (Heidi tried on the mohawk...we're all still traumatized by that.)

Tess was Scooby Doo.

Lora (ghost) and Isabel (puppy) are not pictured because they trick-or-treated with their cousins. I'll post those shots when I get them.

It was a good Halloween. Now it's only three weeks until Thanksgiving. Perhaps I ought to construct a cardboard turkey to wear upon my head to the family dinner. Of course, it would look like the turkey was trying to hatch my head, so maybe not such a grand idea.

Any suggestions out there for my Halloween costume next year?

NEXT STOP: Goblin Valley

More Unflattering Pictures of Myself

Hi everybody!

My nephew-in-law, Aaron Boswell, told me a few weeks ago that he was going to follow my blog. So, in honor of him and his unflagging dedication to following a blog that rarely gets updated, I am posting another set in the ongoing series, Unflattering Pictures of Myself.

These photos were taken the night before a hair cut. My hair, apparently sensing the danger, furiously attacked my head trying to gouge out my eyes.

Also, if you look closely, you can see my Dorito belly. Actually, you don't have to look that closely. The belly kinda jumps out of the picture. In 3-D. BELLY.

Whatever. You'll have to pry the Doritos from my cold, dead fingers. And my cold, jiggly belly.

NEXT STOP: Halloween 2010

Sending My Son to War

Hello, readers (should there be any of you left).

This blog thing ain't for procrastinators. I'll tell you that right now.

Every summer for the past three summers, I've sent Ian to war. The Civil War. He goes to a week-long program at Camp Floyd, which is west of Utah Lake. It is an old Civil War-era camp that once housed an army regiment sent to Utah by the president. Their mission was to prevent Brigham Young's band of polygamist wives from invading and plundering the well-guarded Jell-O mines in Lehi.

I'm a little fuzzy on my history, but I think that's the gist of what happened. In any case, Ian attends this every year where he learns history, performs drills, and participates in mock battles.

These are scenes from last summer's camp, as he prepares in a few weeks to attend his last one.

NEXT STOP: More Unflattering Pictures of Myself

A Flashlight That Is Set Upon a Head Cannot Be Hid

Halloween again. Which means I continue my tradition of creating a costume out of cardboard and duct tape to be fitted on my head.

This year, the idea for my costume came from Lora, who said one day in July, "Dad, you should be a flashlight for Halloween."

And so I was. (And with a headlamp affixed, I was a fully functioning flashlight...)

Ian was an Orioles player, Lora was a candy corn, Isabel was Tinker Bell, and Tess was a ghost. And Heidi was the cranky lady who stayed home to give out candy.

NEXT STOP: Ian Goes to War

So They Think They Can Dance

Scenes from Lora and Isabel's dance classes this past spring. Tess managed to steal some camera time, too.

NEXT STOP: A Bright Idea for Halloween

In Six More Years, It Won't Be So Cute When Ian Speeds

Ian is only six years away from obtaining a driver's license. If these shots are any indication, we should all be afraid -- very afraid.

NEXT STOP: Dancing Queens