Our camera is dying. 'Tis a sad thing. 50,000 pictures a good lifespan for a camera, isn't it?
If anyone can identify what's going on with the camera in this picture, and knows of a simple fix, I'd be happy to hear it.
In Winona Lake, for as long as I can remember, the first appreciable snow of the season has, more often than not, occurred on Thanksgiving or the day before. This year falls right into line.
We had a fairly quiet day; since there were only two adults, we (again) eschewed turkey in favor of something simpler, in this case, steak. We've been married for more than 10 years now, and we've never made turkey. Ever. Grilling duties fell to me, and everyone got their order just right... once I got the fire started. For some reason I have abysmal fire-starting skills.
We did go around the table and share a few things we were thankful for; Aiden, when asked, said he was thankful for "that" — a bowlful of cranberry sauce. Fiona was thankful for necklaces. I was thankful that all the bills were paid, we both have jobs we like, and everyone's healthy.
I tend to batch-process photos for my blog, and when I'm writing, editing, and trying to fit the words and the pictures together, inevitably a few good pictures get left out. Which isn't to say that they're bad pictures; they just didn't fit the post, for one reason or another... So without further ado, seven pictures from the cutting room floor:
I'm finding toys everywhere these days. I often joke that I used to shake out my boots for scorpions; now I shake them out for Legos. So I wasn't terribly surprised to come into the bathroom and find this setup:
Thing is, a dinosaur-vs-crocodile showdown on the edge of the tub didn't strike me as Fiona's usual style. More puzzling was that the installment stayed there for several days. It was nearly a week later that I learned of their true function: tools for short people.
See, Fiona is quite capable of going to the bathroom by herself. (Whether she always does what she's capable of... that's another story.) What she still has trouble with is turning on the light. So, believe it or not... the nose of the alligator is for pushing the switch up, and the curved neck of the dinosaur is for pulling the switch down. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it, but I have seen it, so...
Since you were planning a vacation in China anyway, you'd probably be interested in the accounts of a few roads and hiking trails at this site. The tunnel through the mountain looks cool, but I think I'll skip the trail.
As we were finishing dinner the other night, I noticed that the sky was pink outside. Deborah took a peek, too. A few minutes later, we all had our shoes on for a stroll down to the end of the block.
It reminded me of when I was at Grace, talking to some friends who were about to graduate. What would they miss? The sunsets, they said. This puzzled me, but they explained that when you live in the hills of eastern Ohio and Pennsylvania, the sun just drops out of sight. No wonder I could find them down by the lake every Sunday night!
I've also since found out that "Beyond the Sunset," which is in most hymnbooks, was written right here on this lake. Interesting, eh?
Deborah's father came to fix the cart. As he predicted, he found the main cause of the cart's troubles within minutes, and then spent the next few days remedying other, more minor flaws.
When we went over the big bump, the reverse relay had closed at the same time the forward relay was operating... which shorted out the batteries in a hurry. The relay was unwelded with a tap of a hammer. When I asked what we could do to prevent this from happening again, he said, "Slow down when you're going over bumps." Oh. I had been hoping for something more along the lines of suspension...
The steering as getting loose, too, so we jacked up the front end and tightened the bolts that carried the front wheels. This probably has something to do with my belief that four-wheeled vehicles really don't need to slow down to take a turn.