Birthday Ravioli

For Hannah's sixth birthday we served homemade ravioli. I worked up 3 varieties of ravioli including beef, cheese, and a special chicken marsala. Hannah loved the chicken marsala so much that for her seventh birthday she requested ravioli again, but only her new favorite this time.

The girls have been "helping" me make the pasta for a couple of years now, mainly helping to fill the ravioli and ensure that flour is covering every inch of the counter and floor.

Recently Hannah has taken part in the process of making the dough. This method is called the well method and she has been giving me a hand during the messiest parts. She really likes it when the dough is mushy and she can get in and work it. Those little arms don't have a lot of muscle however, and I usually take over when the serious kneading is required.

This weekend we started the pasta for her eighth birthday party and I told Hannah that she was pretty much on her own. I helped her get the items out that she needed and quizzed her to make sure she knew the number of cups of flour, eggs, etc. She really did quite well, only turning it over to me for the final bit of kneading.

She also assisted in making the filling. I had suggested that someone who is 8 could do some knife work as well, so she assisted in cutting the parsley. She enjoyed the part where we used the food processor to grind the filling into a uniform consistency but felt bad that Maggie ran to the other room seeking cover when the machine kicked in.

Overall she did a great job of helping and I know she'll enjoy telling everyone that she made the pasta. While my mantra throughout the day was "less play, more work", I know we both had a lot of fun!

Locks of Love

Hannah has been thinking for some time that she would like to donate her hair to locks of love. She first heard of it when one of her school friends did it and I believe that she then used this as a reason to not get her hair cut for the next couple of years.

Her bluff was recently called when Briana, a close family friend and sometimes babysitter decided to have a locks of love day while she interned at a local sytlist. Each senior at Woodstock HS selects a project that has something to do with their future employment and Briana would like to become a stylist. She asked Hannah if she would be willing to donate her hair, along with herself, her mother, her sister and several of her friends.

After a few gentle reminders the day arrived and we all headed out to the stylist to make the donation. He-hee and the Rea's all showed up to lend Hannah some much needed moral support. After a little "gentle prodding" from Dad, she sat down for the cut. 10 inches of hair is the minimum donation and the cut brought her hair to just below her shoulders.

We were all very proud of Hannah for supporting such a nobel cause as well as keeping her promise to Briana!

The stylist commented that she could tell Hannah's hair had been curly when she was young. I thought her hair looked awesome after it was trimmed up and evened out and told her so many times in the next week that I soon got "that face" each time I made a reference to it.

Hunting in Eufaula, AL

As a child I was raised in South Dakota, a state that takes it's hunting very seriously. Best known for it's Pheasant season, kids are raised from an early age with an appreciation for firearms, hunting & fishing, and nature in general. Fishing seemed to be my Dad's favorite pasttime and we traveled to many of the lakes in the state as well as Minnesota but we never hunted together.

A couple of times I was taken out to Rueben Glanzer's (a family friend) farm by my uncles Jim and Bob to shoot and hunt. I recall practicing shooting with a 410 as well as a .22 and trailing my uncles while walking a corn field hunting pheasants. This adventure was most memorable for my uncle Bob teaching me how to whistle with my fingers rather than getting to shoot at birds.

Once I became of age to actually hunt and shoot larger guns we moved away from South Dakota and the natural progression of a hunter stalled out.

Recently I've had an urge to pick the sport back up. While the longer version of why might cause me to be tagged as a "loony" and sent off to a local psych ward for "evaluation" the shorter version is a desire to be better prepared and more self sufficient in the event of some type of emergency. The fact that my Brother-in-law George is an avid hunter and has asked me out several times made the urge that much stronger.

I had decided to buy a firearm of each type (rifle, shotgun, and handgun) and the order was generally going to be based on usage. Because George has access to land in Alabama he almost exclusivly hunts white tailed deer. This decision led me to the purchase of a deer rifle. Specifically I purchased a .270 caliber Savage Arms Centerfire.

George and I took the rifle down to Eufaula, AL right before Thanksgiving and we sighted in the rifle. This gave me a few practice shots with it and got me prepared for the "hunt." I also had a chance to shoot a .30-06 lever action that George brought down, which was very fun to shoot.

Notice the spread after firing the Savage. See how everything seems to be to the right of center? It turns out that I am considered "cross dominant" which means that while I am right handed, my left eye is the dominant eye! Shooting with the left eye closed tends to cause things to end up to the right of "true". I tested for this after the trip and decided from that point that I would shoot left handed to ensure that my left eye was on the scope and especially for when I go bird hunting with a shot gun.

On that particular trip, we saw a lot of sign, but very few deer. I did have a chance to shoot at a deer on the last day that we were there. We were hunting some private property that George's cousin Adam helped manage. We sat in a deer stand overlooking a greenfield through the morning hours and didn't have any luck. As we were driving through the property we saw a couple of deer hanging out on a greenfield that was located under some large powerlines. We had to struggle through some brush to get under 300 yards and because the deer were alerted I had to take a shot at about 275 yards using Adam's beanfield. I missed, only grazing the doe as there was a little bit of hair and no blood.

George and I decided to take Grant down prior to Christmas. This time the goal was for me to hunt using a deer stand up in a tree. The morning of the first day we went out and saw no deer, however there were scrapes, scratches, and tracks a plenty. In fact, we saw a doe hoof print over our boot mark, suggesting that they had circled behind us while we were hunting.

After we got back I received a lesson in deer stand ascending and descending and we took the opportunity to place the deer stand prior to our evening hunt. Again we saw plenty of sign, but no deer either on the placement or the hunt later that day. The temperature was in the 80's and we were hoping that a cold front that was coming would move in that evening and get the deer up and walking about.

When we woke for the morning hunt, we determined that the cold front had indeed come in and our hopes were high. The biggest issue was that it had brough rain with it. I trudged out to the deer stand and got situated while it was pitch black. The sun began to rise and my hopes of seeing a deer "right there for the taking" disappeared. Instead it started to rain and I decided that it might have been real nice to have a poncho.

After one or two rain spells and quite possibly a nap, I looked out saw a deer! There should not have been one there as it was directly in the center of my firing range and I had thought that I would see/hear the deer long before it reached that particular point! The wind and rain and obviously done a good job masking his approach. I looked at saw that he was a small buck with 4 points, which is the legal limit for most of Alabama. Figuring that I wasn't going to see anything better in the next hour and the fact that I had a "first timers" trigger finger I decided to take the shot. He was only perhaps 50-60 yards from me and had squared to me nicely. I shot (left handed now) and saw him jump and run.

I was scared that he was only wounded and watched him run perhaps another 30 to 40 yards before he fell. I clambered down from the stand, remembering to release the safety harness and verified that the deer was dead, a perfect shot right through the vitals. George and I had discussed coming out at 9AM or if we heard a shot. I figured I'd hike back to where I was dropped off and wait for them. It turns out that they had left their stand when the rain had started and hadn't heard the shot! When I motioned to George to get out of the car he yelled "Get One?" I said "Sure did!".

Dragging the deer out was not a bit fun. The last time we were hunting we had the 4-wheeler and didn't get anything. Of course this time we needed it and didn't have it! We took him back to the house and I experienced my first lesson in processing a deer.

I want to thank George a bunch for taking me on the hunt and giving me some of the lessons necessary to ensure that I'll make this a lifetime sport!

Shooting Star

While the movie A Christmas Story is famous for many things including a lamp shaped like a leg, a scene where a kid gets his tung stuck to a metal pole, and the classic bully it might be most famous for the classic line "You'll shoot your eye out!". This line was given in response to Ralphie every time he asked for his beloved Red Ryder BB Gun for Christmas.

Fast forward to today and we find young Grant Rea on his first adventure into firearms. On our hunting trip to Eufaula, Alabama George brought along a Daisy BB Gun for Grant to Practice with.



Our first issue was getting that little sucker loaded. Getting BB's out of their container and into the gun shouldn't be that hard, but it was pretty much like hearding cats. Eventually we felt we had enough ammo loaded and we were off to target practice. I quickly knocked down a couple of my favorite 12 oz beverages and set up our own version of the county fair's shooting gallery.

Grant was given his first instruction on the four basic shooting positions after first firing off about 20 rounds from what I'd like to call the "classic western movie" pose...gun on hip with not a snowballs chance of hitting anything. A great exchange took place when I told Grant to close his left eye and sight down the barrell with just his right eye. Grant reached around with his trigger hand and covered his eye up and then asked "How do I pull the trigger?".

Eventually, we got it all sorted out and we started to come within about 10 feet of the cans. Uncle Clark had to check that the gun was working a couple of times but soon, Grant had his first bulls eye.

Startled from my nap, we both jumped up and I retrieved the camera. Yes indeed, the BB had creased the beer can dead on. Soon we were listening to the classic ping of BB's hitting aluminum on a much more regular basis as Grant decided that it was much easier to hit when you shot "point blank".

Here we see Grant talking to his Mom on the cell phone. This is important because it combines two of Grant's favorite activies: the old stand by of chatting on the tele and the new one of riflery.

The following day, Grant graduated with honors when he got to shoot .22 rifle that was also brought down with us. I'd say that the trip from Grant's point of view was certainly a success. It was from mine as well, because no one shot their eye out!

Back to Bethlehem

At dinner the other night, Dina suggested that we attend the "Back to Bethlehem" festival that is put on by Hopewell Baptist church. Immediate responses were registered as "no thanks", "not for me", and "do we have to?". Dina used the powers provided to her through the executive branch of the mom's constitution and suggested in no uncertain terms "that we never do anything fun and it's free" so we are going.

Bundled up with scarves, gloves, and heavy coats we ventured out on what must have been the coldest night of the year to attend a festival whose tag line is "Come back to the meaning of Christmas, Come back to the night Christ was born." The main concern of the children on the way was whether or not a camel was going to spit on them. Seems that this is a hot topic in public education these days and they were very concerned.

Arriving at our destination, opinions began to change slightly as to how the evening might play out. Streets had been blocked off and signs guiding cars into various parking lots suggested that this wasn't just an everyday event. Passing the church we could see hundreds of torches providing light for Bethlehem. Comments ranged from "interesting", "cool", "we'll see", and "see I told you guys it would be great!"

On arrival the children were provided a gold coin to be used in the market. A group was formed up and led into a setting where an inhabitant of Bethlehem spoke to us and informed us that we must be very tired after traveling so far to their town to log our name into the census being taken by the Roman soldiers. She informed us in fact that there was not even room at the inn for us! Leaving the scene we were taken to the gates of Bethlehem where the Roman soldiers lined us up for the census and informed us that we were to behave.


Upon entering Bethlehem we were immediately inside the market where vendors were selling bread, fish, fruit and other essentials of the era. Comments ranged from "ooh, look at the chicken", "neat", "hmm", and "told you!". Vendors and carts filled the area and Roman soldiers milled about keeping order, generally trying to keep several people from informing others about Jehova and the "one God".

We made our way through the market and toured a local citizens home. As we were told earlier, we were unable to go into the inn as there wasn't even room for one more person. However, we were able to see the stables where llama's, goats, horses, and camels were in residence. We made it through without getting spat upon which was unheard of according to the children.


After feeding some goats, we listened to another man telling us about Jesus. He suggested that he knew Jesus and that he had seen him perform miracles. Unfortunately Jesus had been arrested by the Romans and had been scheduled to be put to death. We were led to a scene of Jesus dieing on the cross, only to be reborn!



The evening ended with cookies, hot chocolate and coffee provided by the church. Comments ranged from "that was great", "when can we come back", "better than I thought it would be" to "Hrumph, and you all thought it would be goofy."

Dog With Cone on Head = Poor Nights Sleep

Maggie has had something on her ear for the past month. After some investigation it was determined not to be a tick. It didn't seem to bother her that much but whenever I picked at examined it she would wince and suggest that I stop.

It has grown from about pea sized to dime size since we first noticed it and we have been avoiding a "special" visit to the vet in hopes it would correct itself. Yesterday it did so in a big way. Either Maggie scratched it or it got caught on something but either way her ear looked similar to Evander Holyfield's after the second Tyson fight.

We didn't pay for the full biopsy, but we did have it removed as we couldn't see "waiting for it to get better" as the vet suggested. One event like this was probably enough. Needless to say Maggie came home feeling slightly groggy and pretty grumpy.

Other than having a big cone on her head and bumping into furniture, she seems in good spirits.

While she seems to be getting half-way decent sleep (drugs), we can tell you that a dog with a cone on her head means no one else in the house is getting much rest.

Gentleman, Start Your Engines

The end of October is a special time in Atlanta. Just tell anybody your going to 'the Race' and their face will light up. Then you realize that their brow starts to furrow and their hand is reaching to itch that spot that always starts itching when they're thinking real hard. Finally they just give in and say "What race?"

We've been heading down to the Atlanta Motor Speedway for the past four years and have finally gotten it down to somewhat of a science. The only thing that gives us much trouble is finding a taker for the "fourth" ticket. This year we had a good buddy of mine from Oversight lined up and pre-paid but on the day before the race his wife threw out her back. Luckily we had Darrin on stand-by and avoided the dreaded empty seat.

In the past we've headed down early, set up the site, and made breakfast. A strategic decision was made to stop at Waffle House this year as it would give us the strength to start the day...and fast forward to the Bloody Mary's!

When we got there we were told that our order would take a little extra time as the cook was cleaning the grill. I still haven't figured out if this was code for in the bathroom, having a cigarette, or late for his shift but anyone that's been to Waffle House knows he wasn't "cleaning the grill!"

The centerpiece for any outdoor event in the fall is the fire. Thank goodness we had our resident Eagle Scout in hand because it was quite a cold morning. A combination of dew, strong breeze, and unaged wood made the process take much longer than normal, but since we were all well fed we had beer and my special ZingZang Bloody Mary's to power us through.

Darrin had just completed a busy shift of hauling away drunken drivers on their way home from the Wide Spread Panic concert at 3AM and kept referring to yesterday as this morning. We gave him a break because he chipped in and picked up the fourth ticket.

George had been introduced to "hanger golf" while on a business trip earlier this year and bought a rig from the local Walmart. Always looking for something to do with the hand that isn't holding my drink, I thought it was good addition to the day's activities.

We set the hanger golf up in front of the car and began to play. The funny thing was that no sooner did we have our first game finished when our neighbors set up their very own hanger golf! It a craze folks...sweeping the country!

I thought we were going to have a throwdown with a guy that walked up to Darrin and asked if he could "toss his balls once", but after a quick point to the hanger golf rig everything was cool and we let him have a throw.

Lunch was a combination of hot italian sausage and bratwurst. Green Peppers and Onions were both available and each man took personal responsibility for their intake ;).

After lunch we made our way into the track.
Our timing was perfect as they were just through with introduction of drivers when we made it inside the gates. Michael Johns, an American Idol contestant that has ties to Atlana sang the National Anthem. The flyover was a C-130. This year we switched our tickets and got the four seats on the end of a row. I'm not sure that it really mattered as it seemed that attendance was way down...lots of empty seats.

I'm not sure if it's the new car, the chase format, or what but the race was just plain boring. I'm not looking for 10 car pileups but passing would be interesting. A lot of follow the leader and few leader changes. Carl Edwards ended up taking the checker flag.

Once the race was over, we headed back to the car. We got our fire started back up and started preparing dinner while the traffic cleared out. We had ribeye sandwiches, roasted red potatos and twinkies. Thoroughly satisfied we packed it all up and headed home. George took us out the "back way" which helped keep us moving and everyone made it home safe and sound.