Weekend at Arenal
Living in Anchorage, when we wanted to get away for the weekend we would load up the minivan, point her south and head down to the Kenai Peninsula. In two and a half hours we could be in Kenai, an hour further we would be in Homer. It didn’t matter much which one, just as long as we were out of town.
Well the same thing applies here in Costa Rica. With mom and grandma visiting we figured it was a great time to head to Arenal, one of the local active volcanos in Costa Rica. We loaded up the 12 seater with 11 bodies, and a bundle of bags and took off in hopes of catching a glimpse of the molten red lava spewing into the night sky.
Now Costa Rica is know for its diversiveness, and we live in the dry region famous for great beaches. We were headed towards the rain forest and jungles. The drive is about 4 hours and I like to divide it into three sections. The first section I would call the highway, from here to Liberia and a little beyond. The roads are well traveled, pretty straight and blast through small town after small town. The second section takes you into the hills where the winds await. There are sparse trees, wind farms, and a giant lake littered with wind surfers and their neon colored kites speckling the white capped lake. From inside the car, it looks cold, very cold. It reminds me of a lonesome bay in Alaska on cold blustery summer day. In reality, it is about 80 degrees out, and the wind, 20-25 mph, is a welcomed coolant.
Once pass the sparse hills we enter the jungle, clouds appear, fog is present and the edge of the road disappears into the vivd green dripping jungle. There are a myriad of one lane bridges, rivers and eroding, albeit paved, roads along the way. The temperature is significantly cooler and the air becomes heavy with moisture. It is af you are driving into Jurrassic Park.
Four hours into our expedition we arrived at our destination, Los Lagos, a hotel / resort known for its spa and hot springs. But it had much more than we anticipated, a small butterfly farm, a frog farm, a crocodile farm and it was nestled right on the shoulder of the active Arenal volcano. It was very lush, very green well kept and catered towards tourists:us. It was perfect for this party of 11. For the kids it had three fast water slides, for the adults 7 different hot springs, pools and a spa.
During our two day tour we decided to take advantage of some of the must do activites. We decided on the Ecoglide canopy / zip line tour, horseback riding for some, and a hike to the La Fortuna waterfall. In between all this we would soak our weary bodies in the hot springs and sip virgin pina colados served out of pineapples, can’t get much touristier than that.

Our Tico coffee at our new favorite place to eat in La Fortuna, La Choza. If you visit, you must eat there.
The zip line was the highlight for most. It consisted of 15 different zip lines at varying lengths, heights and speeds. All fantastically fun and exhiliariting. But what really set it over the top was the Tarzan swing perilously awaiting you in the middle of of the tour. Of course I was offered up as the sacrificial Tarzan to go first. As I eased forward onto the shaky mesh metal platform hanging over what felt like the abyss, they strapped me in the never explaining what was about to occur. The guides hooked two thin, weary looking and frayed white lines into my harness. They tugged, tightened and pulled me right next to a gate overlooking a 1000 foot drop ( at least it looked that far) and told me to press up against the gate. At this point I thought they would explain what was going to happen, instead “click” the gate was open. “Wait what is going on” I stammered, “relax, just sit” and I as bent my knees to sit I began free falling to the earth below. My intestines just about flew out of my mouth as I began screaming “NO, NO, NO”. It felt as if the two puny ropes had failed and I was going to be a ball of mush on the side of a mountain. But then the lines gently grabbed hold and began rocketing me straight up to the sky, inches away from the canopy above, and I began swinging, like Tarzan, back and forth, inches away from tree trunks. It was scary, it was exhiliarting and it was fun. The best part was watching those who went after me, knowing what they were going through, but also knowing they had the advantage of knowing what was going to happen. I must acknowledge those who took the leap, Tracy, Dorian, Alli, Jeremy, Olivia, and Grandma. Yes my 83 year old grandma took the leap screaming ‘WHEEEEE!! You’re going to miss out” Much like the Geico pig. She loved it. Mom, well she got strapped in, stepped up to the gate, and then couldn’t go through with it. But she got close.
After the two hour tour, we rushed a group to the horse riding tour while the rest of us elected to rest our weary bodies in the hot springs. I hear the horseback tour was awesome, but I did not go as I prefered not to have saddle sores for the remainder of our stay. Besides, the last time I did the tour it ended up being a little more adventurous than I bargained for. They however loved it, especially my wife who got to ride her favorite kind of horse.
After an excellent, gigando dinner at La Choza in La Fortuna, the next morning, we headed out for our hike to the waterfall in La Fortuna. The hike was down the side of a mountian on steps made of perforated concrete which allowed the massive vegetation to grow through and around it, almost engulfing it as part of the earth. I am not sure how many steps there were, I stopped counting after one trillion, but at least they were of varying heights angles and depths to keep it interesting. The trip down was worth the view, the trip up was tenuous. Next time we are packing a lunch and our swimming trunks and enjoying the view for a while.
Although we did not get to see any lava, or even the very top of the the volcano, it was a weekend to be remembered, a great way to spend the last one before school starts up again. We got to see a lot of critters; the infamous coati begging on the side of the road,monkeys chilling and posing, toucans, iguanas, butterflies, crocodiles, frogs and even a sloth. I am extremely proud of grandma as she did each an every adventure set before her, living life to the fullest. But most of all I am proud of her for surviving three days and two nights without her facebook. That my friends was a real challenge!
Here is a short video compilation of our weekend for you to enjoy. Until our next adventure, I need some sleep.
A Turtle’s Pace Part II
After paying our fees, at an open air shack filled with 5 Ticos wearing some semblance of shirts with turtles on them, making them obvious official turtle guides, we embarked on the second half of our journey. $8 for non-residents, was the fee for our “guided” tour of the beach. There were about 15 students and 10 adults, a salty group ready to stretch their legs. After money changed hands, we were issued our official green passes, and then canvas bags, which we were informed were to be used to gather trash. Cool, we pay to work. So that’s how socialism works. As we began walking towards the beach, the rain clouds moved in. No worries, as long as the turtles were there it would all be worth it. They were not.
We walked and walked and walked. We saw signs of turtles, drag marks, egg pieces and even a big old dead turtle. But no baby turtles and certainly no big momma turtles. After trudging for what seemed like miles in the black gritty sand, our guide finally spoke and asked us to help clean up the driftwood so the turtles would have more nesting room. So not only did we have to pay to see nothing and pick up trash, we had a good 1/2 hour of hard labor. We had resigned to our fate that we had just paid $8 per person to clean up trash, move driftwood, walk in the rain, and do things we could do every day in Guanacaste for free. Perhaps we could find turtles on the other side of the beach. I was clearly not hopeful. For after conversing with several of the turtle attendees who had attended several turtle coming outs in the past, the best time to come was very early in the morning, or at night, not 9 am. As I walked back along the surf lane allowing my feet to be washed off by the ever beating surf, I noticed a small portion of our group gathering up the beach a little. I altered course . As I walked into the small circle I heard cameras clicking, oohs and aahs, and saw some pretty big smiles. There were several baby turtles emerging from beach!
It was amazing to watch, first about six turtles, then 15, 20, 40, 60, 64 at final count. It was like a clown car at a circus, they just kept coming and coming directly out of the black sand. Slowly moving, covered in dirt trying to find their way. A few knew right where to go, others wandered off to the left or the right, but eventually they all seemed to at least point to surf. Maybe not directly, but at least at an angle that would get them there. The journey ahead of them was long and arduous, for they were about the size of a silver dollar, and about 1/3 the weight. Every footprint, stick or pebble presented an obstacle. A few got flipped over, some got stuck, some had to alter course completely, but all were determined to make it to their destination. It was then that I realized we were the turtles. We had a long and arduous journey, we had to alter course, we had to climb up and down the footprints left by nature, but we were determined to make it to our destination. The only difference, the baby turtles got stronger with every flip of their flippers, and we got a little weaker with every pothole.
At least now the journey to the surf had been worth it. We had seen what very few had ever witnessed. The sheer determination and pure beauty of God’s creation. The instinctive drive to survive no matter how hard. Events like these always affirm my belief in a creator. It seems incredulous to me to believe something so perfect as the circle of life could ever happen by accident. If you ever take a quiet moment to think about the true miracle of life, both in humans and creatures, of flora and fauna, it seems impossible to me to come to any conclusion other than the conclusion that it is planned. All of it. Each and every morsel. And nothing will affirm my faith in that more than seeing it in action with my own two eyes.
For many more pictures, video, and commentary enjoy our following two minute documentary.
P.S. On the way in I related a story about a teenager leading us on a false shortcut. On the way home we let a teenager lead us to the best Pizza place in all of Costa Rica. “The road is a little sketchy” he warned, but that pizza is good. When a road is barely passable by bicycle, covered in spider webs, and drops down 100 feet a time; that my friends is not the sign of good pizza place. This trail made the previous trail look like the Autobahn. It was steep, tiny, overgrown, full of fissures, gorges and gashes, muddy, slick and deadly. In short, it was scary. However once we turned down, there was no turning back. What we wouldn’t do for great pizza. How was the pizza? We will never know, it was closed for the season. Needless to say, those of us driving were not too happy with our teenage connoisseur. If you want directions I will give them freely, however be aware because there may be a former Gold Coast teenager roaming the roads chanting, ” the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good, the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good!”
A Turtles Pace, Part I
“Can you drive us for a school field trip to see the turtles?” ” Sure, that would be great, we’ll make a family day of it”
That’s how it began, a simple conversation between father and child. In Costa Rica nothing is ever simple. You see the turtles have seasons here, there is a season when they lay their eggs, and a season when the eggs hatch. We were hoping to catch the season of hatching. The plan, a school caravan of 5 cars heading south to Ostional to watch turtles. The reality, the drive was the adventure.
Upon loading up at the school we embarked on our journey, our minivan full sans one seat. Remember this is not the Godfrey van of Alaska, the V8 4X4 with 20 inches of clearance. Nay, this is the 4 cylinder rear wheel drive Hyundai with 2 inches of clearance. Great for running loads of kids around town, not so great for jungle treks.
We knew we had to pass through Avellenas, which is a bit of a pot holed dirt road, a slow but steady road with one way bridges and pot holes big enough to swallow a Yugo. A bumpy 30 minute trip, but passable, even for the G-van. However, we did not know it would get much trickier once we got past Avellenas. The roads quickly became muddier, slippier, pot holier, and simply not fun. I was very happy that I had got the G-van washed the day prior. Things got worse when 20 minutes past Avellenas Luka, a student, informed our lead driver of a “short cut”. I thought we were already on the short cut. One swift left turn and we were driving on what would barely pass for an ATV trail back in AK. It was one of those trails where the grass grows in the middle of the dirt road, and there are grooves on either side. Onward we pressed, me dodging trenches, gorges and boulders. Tracy holding her breath and saying “this isn’t right, this isn’t right!”. She was right. Just then the 4X4 truck in front of us plowed across the river dividing the road and scurried up the muddy slope on the other side. It reminded me of a Chevy truck commercial shot in slow motion with a giant V8 dually. However, I told myself we could do it. Shoot his front tires only disappeared for a couple of seconds, and he didn’t look like he was sinking. I hit the gas hard, not intending to lay off until we were safely up the slope 80 feet away. I stayed on the gas through spray of the river that engulfed our van,through the rise of steam smoldering us and through the screaming kids and praying wife. I even stayed on it when I felt the wheels gently lift from the bottom of the riverbed just for a second there on the opposite bank.
Alas, with a little spinning we made it up the other side, and I think I let a breath out that I had been holding. No big deal. However, just a 100 yards up the trail we ran into a mud bog that would cause Big Foot the monster truck to pause in his tracks. The red tail lights in front of us glared on, and I knew we had met our match. It was time to turn around. A feat which resulted in me dislocating my brand new front plate, and back bumper during my 16 point turn. Joy, for a 3 month old car. With much maneuvering we were able to turn around and found the better “road”. It was about 30% better. But at least it had bridges, though they were all single lane. And its potholes were about smaller, but could still hide a full-grown gator.
Eventually, after a half-dozen one way bridges, hundreds of muddy water filled jaw jarring pot holes and what seemed like 10 hours we arrived at Ostional, eager to see the thousands upon thousands of turtles. The journey was long, treacherous, dangerous, muddy, painful and stressful. When I finally put the car into park, I felt the muscles in my shoulders and back release, having been fully tensed for the last two hours. I have been on many 18 hour drives that offered 1/10th the excitement and stress, and much more pavement, but the payoff was promising, little baby turtles.
To be continued………
Any reason to party?
Back in the states Halloween was a pretty big deal. In fact, if I recall correctly, the very first date Tra and I ever went on was near that very holiday, at a harvest fest type of event. I recall having to be prepared every Halloween for the slew of kids to come parading through the neighborhood. With every open door a shot of cold air would rush across our skin, and handfuls of candy would be dropped in the bags of ghouls, ghosts, goblins and ???. In Costa Rica there is no Halloween. Perhaps it is because they have a plethora of other holidays, or perhaps it is because it was created by the candy moguls in America, or perhaps it is because chocolate can be very hard to come by for the locals. Either way we didn’t expect much of anything, we were wrong.

Ben and Brockzilla, two rock stars from different sides of the track, not standing out at all in a packed La Paz gym.
There is a pretty large contingent of Ex-Pats in this area, and they hold on to their American / Canadian traditions very strongly, as we are quickly learning. If there is a slight reason to celebrate or party, they will gather in droves. Superbowl, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Columbus Day, doesn’t matter, if it connects them to home, they embrace it. Halloween, other than being a floating holiday is no different.
In the area we live there are three primary english schools, La Paz, Country Day, and Gold Coast Academy. All three private schools, all full of Americans, Canadians and French ( don’t ask me). All three of them held festivities on Friday night.
Our evening began right at sunset; humidity still thick in the air, the hot night air enveloping those in monkey suits, ghost sheets and more. I saw more sweat stains than at a July jalapeno chili bake in Texas. We hit La Paz first, the school had a special area for candy gathering, and it seems every english speaking kid in the country was there, adding to the humidity. As we weaved our way through the blue mat maze of on-air conditioned classrooms, we were met by princess’s, gold people, Lego’s and many more homemade costumes. There is no Wal-Mart, so creativity had to be high. Although sheer torture for the camera wielding adults caught in the never-ending snake of children, it was fun for the kids as their bags weighed down under the girth of the mixed tico candy. The school also had a small haunted house, and a gym full of games for the kiddos with prizes and awards. To top it off they had a bake sale and hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill. It was an all out event that required traffic control and parking on an empty over grown lot next to the school.

Like, who's this creeper pretending to be Shaggy? ( a good friend, the real creeper is over his right shoulder)
Next we made our way to Country Day School, where they had a similar event going on. However, their highlight was the haunted house, and that is what we set our sights on, at least those of us brave enough to endure the close tight humid quarters. As we made our way through the draping of dark plastic we were assaulted by every creature imaginable from every angle, our feet, our heads, straight on, they were everywhere, and it appears that they were heavily dehydrated. It was a fun adventure with blue lights, water , at least we hope it was water, and much more. And talking to some of the creatures afterward, it was labor intensive, hot and draining, but they did not complain, instead they did their best to elicit screams and cries, and I am sure I heard a few, even from within our own party. Again, there were games for the kids, bake sales and some BBQ pork sandwiches. Lots of decorations, and balloons that were getting heavily assaulted by anyone under 4 foot tall.
We finished the evening as chaperones at the Freaky Tiki, and event semi-coordinated by Alli as the event planner for her school. The event was made for the older kids as a costume dance event. Now I don’t know what qualifies as a good dance, but if it is a bloody red pool and fountain, lots of sweaty kids dancing all together, loud never-ending music, pizza and very loud never-ending music, then this was a successful dance. Again, it seems every english speaking kid from every local school was there. Apparently things have changed form when I used to go to dances. In my day you asked a girl to dance, you went out to the floor together and danced next to your buds, making funny faces and did your best to be cool. What we witnessed was just a glob of people all dancing together. I never did see two people dancing. The smallest group was six. However, I could’ve been hallucinating because between the unbearable thumping, heat, strobe light, and extra curricular lightning storm, I am not totally sure what we witnessed. But I am pretty sure there were no nefarious on goings nor any grinding going on during our watch! The dance went from 7-11 and was thumping the whole time.
I have never been so exhausted after a Halloween night. I am convinced that we met every Ex-Pat in the area on that Friday night, even the ones without kids. And the best part, Halloween is tonight. I have no idea what to expect, but we will be prepared with some melted chocolates for our little prettys, just in case. Can’t wait to see what Thanksgiving will be like. I plan to get a nap before that one.
Life in the fast lane

With a tourist Visa, we are only allowed to be in Costa Rica for 3 months at a time before we have to make a trip outside of the country. So last week we took a 5 day trip to Orlando. We did not visit Disney, Universal or Seaworld, instead we shopped, ate and shopped. We ate at every restaurant that we don’t have here, which is everything except McDonald’s and Burger King, and we shopped at every store we don’t have here which is….. every store. Our days consisted of getting up, eating, getting good coffee, shopping, eating, shopping, eating, stopping at Wal-Mart or Target ( I consider this more gathering than shopping), sleeping,repeat. We did this for 5 days, with one afternoon to go watch Captain America in a real movie theater with really bad movie popcorn. Sure miss that little luxury, but don’t miss the cost.
Living here you quickly learn to appreciate the simple lifestyle, with the difficult process, but you miss the luxuries that we as Americans have grown up with. Fast food, fast shopping and entertainment around every corner. We don’t have those luxuries here. Fast food is 45 minutes away, and fast food at a local soda is usually a real meal with rice and beans. Entertainment is scarce. There are no local movie theaters, and the ones in Liberia are often in Spanish. There is a hopping bar scene, but that is more depressing than entertainment, at least in my eyes. Our entertainment usually involves group get togethers and more often than not, a beach. So in that aspect life is simple, and it is fantastic.
However, it does not mean we do not miss this stuff. When it is put right in front of you, it is hard to resist. Convenience is everywhere and always.
One thing that we are missing, that we don’t miss; Sirens. I heard 5 times more sirens in the 5 days we spent in Kissimmee than I have heard in 3 months in CR. In fact I can only think of two times that I have heard sirens since I have been here. Over spending; sure things here are often quite more expensive than back in the states, but there are far fewer things to spend $$ on. Once you get set and established, you can live quite effectively on a minimal budget. The initial setup is spendy, and the luxuries will cost you, but you don’t really have the plethora of places to spend your money that you do back in the good ole USA.Traffic; Sure driving here can be tricky and even treacherous, but there is no traffic. Almost all traffic slow downs are caused by a herd of cows being herded by three vaqueros on horses. You pretty much just pick your way through them, go around the tourists taking pictures, and keep going on your way. Besides, if you are late, no big deal. It’s Costa Rica, Pura Vida, plain and simple. Schedules are loose, times are more zones than minutes, Monday can mean any Monday, and closing / opening times are often displayed with an “ish” after the time.
It takes quite a while to get used to, as we have not, but it is much easier to appreciate after a trip back to the Mother Land. Well I best be going, the kids got out of school an hour ago, and I was supposed to pick them up and I still have to get me an iced coffee along the way. I gotta have something to do in case I get stuck behind some cows.
Road Trips
Every once in a while a man has to get out of dodge and take road trip. In college a road trip consisted of; scraping up some gas money, spending most of it on snacks ( pickled red-hot sausage for me please), a car full of screaming teenage boys, very loud 80s music in the cassette, excessive speeding and not planning ahead for the trip home. They were spontaneous, reckless and usually fun fraught with a touch of danger and self-induced issues.
Now our road trips are just a touch different; Get through all the days appointments, PLAN for two days, pack for you the kids and for every contingency under the winter sun, take care of the dog, take care of the cars and leave about 2 hours later than planned, with no pickled red-hot sausage for dad because a 40-year-old gut can’t handle it. But probably the biggest difference is the purpose. In college, the purpose was not usually well-defined and sometimes not well intended. Now there is a purpose. Perhaps for a shopping trip, a family visit, or just some family time.
This past weekend we went out on one of our road trips to attend a family function. When my family has a function it is usually not an intimate thing. This time it was to congratulate my brother on graduating from law school and to celebrate my grandmother’s 81 (0r 82) birthday. After four years of working a full-time job and taking classes my brother was finally able to graduate with his law degree and take his bar exam, all while getting fantastic grades. We are very proud of him, and we just hope he doesn’t bill us when we call him, because he can be a little long-winded at times and we don’t have that kind of money.
Grandma, well she keeps plugging along. She is the type of grandma that acts about 1/3 her age. My kids love being around her because she is so much fun, In fact Ben just did a road with her to Homer and he said he was laughing the whole time; it was his best road trip ever. So maybe she acts more like a 1/7 her age. Whatever it is I have learned that the older you get the younger you act the younger you will feel.
The event itself was just that, lots of puroke, potato salad, turkey and desserts; new family members introduced, stories were shared, relationships rekindled, people were honored, and all were fed well. It was awesome. There were approximately 57 people in attendance. I could not give an exact number because approximately 30 of those people were under the age of 14 and they didn’t stand still long enough to be counted. We ended up having a grand time seeing family members we had not seen in years, and some new ones we had never seen. Unfortunately we were unable to stay as long as we would’ve liked, perhaps next time I will skip that pickled red-hot sausage on the drive over.
Austin’s fish follies
Certainly catching a pollock would be the highlight of any trip,none-the-less I felt some more fishing was in order. So the boys and I did some old-fashioned dip netting, and brought Austin along for the ride, little did we know.
It just so happened we went on a day when the fish were literally pouring into the river. In fact, I think it was the best dipping I have ever seen. The problem with good dipnetting is that it is extremely addictive and very hard to stop, especially when the fishing is good.
Now the way the personal use / dipnet fishery works is that you get 25 fish for the head of the household and then 10 fish per each household member. So if you do the math, that means I am allowed 105 fish on my permit. You can bet that makes me a popular person to bring on your boat when you go dipnetting. Normally it is kind of hard to go over limit with me around. In fact, not only do I not want my limit, the closest I ever got was 92 reds. That was way too many.
However the summer of 2010 turned out to eclipse that. In fact, it was a virtual fish blood path, a feeding frenzy of fish, a plethora of pescado, a lot of fish. If you were on the boat or even near the boat you got bathed in fish blood and guts. I know it sounds disgusting, but it was very manly for those of us to experience it. Although I only kept about half, the cleaning, smoking and prepping still took some time. In the end, as always, it was worth it.
We managed to get a few more fishing trips in for Austin. We spent an afternoon chasing red salmon, and he caught on quickly. He landed three red salmon all by himself with a fly rod, a not so easy task, as those who have tried knows. One of them he managed to hook legally and we kept that one for him to bring home.
Any excuse to go fishing is welcomed, but I find that my absolute favorite times to fish are those times when I get to take a kid or an out-of- stater that has never caught a fish up here. For some reason I get more joy seeing them hook up a salmon, or halibut, or any species of prized pesces. Of course, like I said before, any excuse to go fishing.
The wild beasts of Fuller Lakes
Imagine the rare 75 degree Alaska day; you have a day off from work and decide to hike 3 miles away from civilization, to a lake teeming with rainbows and dolly varden. You arrive, dripping sweat from the steep hike, but alone with a slight breeze and the sun beaming down on the lake. There are small pockets of snow, a welcome anomaly, you grab a handful and rub it on the back of your neck to cool down. Then you notice the fish are feeding, and whip out your fly rod and begin casting. The slight breeze helps you place the tiny mosquito fly you tied yourself in near perfect position, as you get a strike on your first cast. You haven’t even taken your backpack off your back, but the quiet solitude, the sheep on the mountain, the only sounds of the water cascading from the beaver dam and your fly line whipping in the wind are perfection. You can’t imagine a better day or a better way to spend Memorial Day.
Then you hear it ” The last one up is a stinky fish head!” ” hey quit pushing me!” ” I can’t wait to jump in!” “Get outta my wayyyyyy!!!” That would be us, the Godfrey Daniels crew, a party of 17 entering into your perfect wilderness setting. The last place you would expect to see 13 kids from 5-16 dragging four adults up the side of a mountain. I know you go up there to get away from the hustle and bustle, to spend time in nature and enjoy the quiet and solitude, but so did we. Our strategy is different though. You see we hike the mountain to burn the kids out so when we go home and eat dinner, they go to bed. Then, and only then can we enjoy our quiet and solitude. Instead of a fly rod we will likely have a remote control in our hand, but the effect will be the same.
So we apologize to you Mr. fisherman hiker, but we do not regret that Memorial Day Trek. That hike created some more life long memories, but most importantly, it got the kids quietly in bed by 9 pm on warm summer school-less day; and because of that, I predict there will be many more hikes to come this summer. In fact, if you are planning to scale Mt. McKinley this year, don’t be surprised if you hear ” the last one up is a stinky dog toot”, and turn your head just in time to see a party of 17 on your heels.
Location, Location, Location
Did you ever have a lemonade stand? I did, and I think I made about $ 0.75. But I will never forget it. One of my 2-3 paying customers grilled me, as he was drinking his lemonade, regarding my profits. He insisted, with a straight face, that I must report my profits to the IRS. I giggled assuming he was joking, and he never cracked a smile. I was mortified that they would find out, and promptly closed the stand. When I told my dad that I had to report my profits, hey obviously looked at me puzzled, eyebrows furrowed down and said “what the heck are you talking about?” I told him about the guy. It turns out he worked with my dad, and he and my dad had a great laugh over the encounter. At that time, I thought that was cruel and unfairly affected the purchasing power of my Hot Wheels Racing Set. Now, I can’t wait till I get to return the favor.

The world famous Club K.O. Make your reservations now! (note duct tape for atmosphere)

customers pulling in for some "special blend" java.

obviously jacked up on some hi octane joe!
Well times have changed. I came home last month to find a fully operating coffee stand in my driveway. NIRVANA! If you know me, you know I love my coffee. The problem with the stand, it was being operated by my children, with my coffee, and it was being sold. No freebies. But that wasn’t the main problem, the main problem was that is was up our 100 foot, away from any other traffic, other than Tracy and I. So their customer base was limited, very limited. Further, once they figured out their customer base was zero, they began serving each other. Taking turns as imaginary customers with imaginary profits. But I applaud their ingenuity, creativeness, and stealing of my coffee goods. So if you are ever driving by Sterling and have a hankering for a hot, luke warm cup of coffee, dark water, then stop on by club K.O. It is only a few hundred yards out of the way, and for only a few dollars, I promise that you will get service with smile,if they aren’t doing school work, or sleeping, or eating, or playing……… Just keep in mind, much like Applebee’s, you are paying more for atmosphere than the actual product.

full house on opening day

Employee of the month, Olivia

all hail Club K.O., the only place to go for a great cup of joe.
Labor Day Weekend Part II. The long awaited sequel to Labor Day weekend part I
The next day we again ventured out into the briny sea, this time with the whole family in tow. Early to the high tide, the fishing was not nearly as productive, but everyone managed to catch something. Unfortunately, something more often than not, was a 50 pound skate or a feisty little dogfish shark. Somehow, I don’t think the little ones minded too much, except for dad who had to wrangle each and every one of them off the circle hooks. I made a bit of an art of it after a dozen or so attempts, and a few cuts, and a few crushed fingers from those blasted skates.
To the little ones, a picture with a shark or skate was much more exciting than a stinking halibut anyway. Although before the trip was over, Alli landed a 30 lb. prize, followed by Jeremy and his 50 pounder, added to the halibut of day one, we ended up with enough meat for even our family.
While fishing, the fog come upon us without warning and we had to rely on our old fashioned navigation, the gps. It guided us right back to spit. After a vessel and fish cleaning session, we grabbed some pizza at Starvin Marvin’s and headed back to home sweet home. That night, cuddled up and cramped, we ate some home made popcorn and played games while sitting on top of each other.

Instant Foggin
That night the kids retreated to their exclusive loft, which managed to sleep each and every one of them. The downfall, the loft was right above our room, so every shift of weight, walk to the bathroom, or acrobatic bed jump, flexed the roof above our bed and sounded as if Dorian’s halibut from the day prior was flopping around on top of us.
We finished our mini vacation to the south with some stream fishing on the way home. There wasn’t much in the way of catching, just fishing and bug fighting but opportunity for lots of pictures and hopefully some memories. The trip ended with unpacking of twice as much stuff as we packed. I still don’t get how that happens. Every trip, every time, even when we do no shopping and eat everything we packed, we come back with at least twice as much stuff. I equate that to the mystery of missing laundry socks.
All things considered, the trip was a lot of fun for a mini vacation 90 minutes from home. Next time though, we won’t pack as much stuff.
It’s not about the money, it’s about the memories.
I keep telling myself that. So today we made a trip to Build A Bear (BAB), an early birthday present for me! Ok, not really, I got my Build A Bear a long time ago, it’s a bald eagle, no easy jokes please. So this time it was for Jake, Kassie and Jo. Jake and Kassie got gift certificates for Christmas, and we thought it would be great to get Jo one if she leaves us.
Jake chose a panda, and army panda named Armie. Kassie chose a dog named Zoe and Jo chose a monkey named Jellybean. Why Jellybean? Well each of the kids has their own special song that I made up for them when they were little. Well it’s more like a jingle than a whole song. Jo’s song goes a little something like this. JoJean the jellybean cutest little girl that I’ve ever seen. JoJean daddies little beauty queen ( or jellybean, they are inter changeable.) Hence the name.
So, other than Ty, most of you have never done a BAB, so let me explain it to you. First the parent picks out the skin of their pet, then they pick out a sound. In Jo’s we put a monkey sound and a recording of Tracy and I. NO they are not one in the same. Then they help the lady stuff it to just the right thickness. Before it is sealed, they put a heart in it. In Jo’s each of us put a heart in it, so it is a bit of a mutant. It could never be accused of being heartless. Then it is sealed, painlessly I am told. Althought that 10 gauge needle and inch thick thread would not gear near my wounds. After that the parent has to wash it in the air bath. Next the parent must pick out the clothes, and there are millions of outfits, and they all cost $$. There are also accessories, sun glasses, cell phones, helmets, balls you name it they have it, and it all cost $$. So the gig is they get you in with some cheap fur animal skin, then charge you for every little extra, sounds like the airlines now a days. Next you use their computer to print out a birth certificate for your new born pet. Then you finish up at this real neat place called a cash register where they tally up every little item and you give them all your money, just like the hospital. I guess they want it to be as real as possible.
Ultimately, I must admit, I think it was well worth it. I don’t get the whole experience, but the kids absolutely eat it up. Jo’s was very special and we pray that she will always cherish it and she can push the left paw to hear mom and dad’s voice any time. We continue to pray for a miracle, and it will take a miracle, and we truly, truly, truly, appreciate your support and prayers.
We went ahead and made a little video of the experience since it may be Jo’s last trip to Anchorage with us, it is about 4 1/2 minutes long.




















































































































































