The Force Comes to Jacksonville . . .

. . . in the form of Blaine, Laurel, Baby James, and an encounter with Pottery Barn. Their marketing plan for overpriced Millennium Falcon Quilts? Get your picture taken with a Jedi and a Storm Trooper! Never mind that the Jedi looked like Al from Home Improvement - he had the outfit, and that's what counts. For bonus points, he left out the mullet. And the unbelievably strained and hokey dialogue.

You have never seen a prouder papa than Blaine holding his son holding a plastic lightsaber. You could almost feel the - what are they called, mitoclorians? Mitochondria? Anyway, you could almost feel them flowing.

Besides appearing at our own mini fan convention, we slummed around St. Augustine, the oldest city in the U.S.

We walked around the tourist trap village for a few minutes, then headed to the old Spanish fort for a cannon demonstration by volunteers in period dress. One of those cannon balls could be shot up to three miles.

For this week, our hope is that you will be just as relaxed as Papa Blaine is in this photo. A sunny day, a hammock, a straw hat, and . . . a cigar and a video camera? (And someone else in charge of the baby, we presume.)

Pretzel Day

A few snapshots from Sophie and Daniel's field trip to Auntie Annie's pretzel stand, where they got to shape their own pretzels, choose their toppings, and sip lemonade while waiting for their pretzels to bake:


Sophie alternately ate hers and fed crumbs to the ducks and turtles.



Daniel wrestled with his for quite a while. He had a pained expression on his face the whole time. Imagine how he'd feel about wrestling with a NY bagel.

armadillos and other roadkill

Sorry I am so far behind on our blog. I'll be posting a few quick pics that have been in the queue, and then will hopefully catch up on the rest soon.

When we first moved to Jacksonville, I started an armadillo roadkill count. I soon gave up. There's just too many of them. (We also have quite a few raccoons and squirrels.) One week, in Marsha and Craig's subdivision, a dead one lay on someone's lawn for three or four days while a flock of vultures took care of it. It was a weirdly Western scene, despite taking place on manicured grass. All we needed was a few tumbleweeds and a wagon train.


This particular one, one of the few live models we've seen, was snuffling about just outside our porch. Sophie followed it out onto the golf course. They are funny, prehistoric-looking creatures. I think Sandra Boynton captures them perfectly in her board books. They always look slightly wigged-out. Must be all that traffic dodging.


At long last, we broke down and bought some furniture. (I don't recommend buying used futon mattresses, by the way - you may think the smell will come out, but it won't.) We found an old bunk bed with a full-sized futon frame on the bottom on Craig's list. Ryan and the kids sanded and painted it in "Summer Splash," a classic Atlantic blue. They've been sleeping happily in it ever since.

Toofless

Sophie lost not one, not two, but three teeth this week. Well, maybe lost isn't quite the right word, since what happened is that I reached into her mouth with a tissue, stuck a finger between each tooth and the surrounding gum area, and yanked those suckers out.

People, it was time. They'd been loose for months, and she had a little row of teeth growing in behind them just like a shark. And those silly teeth. Just. Would. Not. Fall. Out.

So now she has a little broken picket fence smile. It's quite endearing.

* * * * *

We may have settled into a church for the time being. We've started attending Beaches Vineyard pretty regularly. The vibe is a little bit surfer, a little bit aging hippie, in part thanks to its location in a converted movie theater by the beach. (Finally! Enough stalls in the women's bathroom!) It's a little strange sitting at barstools and tables instead of pews, but it's very nice to be able to sip coffee during the service. We like the no-frills, earnest worship and laid-back, very Scriptural preaching, and we've just started attending a Tuesday night class on spiritual gifts. Daniel is head over heels with his Sunday School teacher, Gus, and Sophie appreciates being able to earn candy with reward tickets.

* * * * *

About a year ago, I asked Daniel if he wanted Jesus to live in his heart, and his answer was, "No, I want Jesus to live in my tummy."

Or another time: "Daniel, do you love Jesus?"

Answer (nonchalantly): "No, I like ducks."

Whoever said "All theologies are heresies" definitely had our boy in mind.

But last week at lunch, when I asked him again if he wanted Jesus to live in his heart and forgive his sins, he said "yes." So we prayed together and were very happy. We found out later that Darcy accepted Jesus at the same age! It is of course beyond fine with us if Daniel continues to grow up just like his Uncle.

* * * * *

On a slightly less exalted note, Daniel introduced a new funny face into his repertoire. He calls it his "Butterfly Fart" face.


I didn't know those could be so uncomfortable.

* * * * *

We're now in our third week of homeschooling and we're having fun! I don't know if Sophie is learning much, but I sure am. I'd never heard of the Syrian Druzes before. Had you? (Makes me think of Lemony Snicket. Or the Mystery of Edwin Drood.) There have been a few awkward moments, such as, "Mom, this book says Adam and Eve were born in 5000 BC, and this book says the first civilization was around 10,000 BC. But weren't Adam and Eve the first humans?"

Darn those critical thinking skills, anyway. Thank goodness Ryan's been to seminary!