Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Of lightbulbs and jellybeans

Dinner this evening consisted primarily of end-of-the-season corn on the cob. We ate it until we were blissfully full and then blanched the remaining ears to freeze for a winter delight at some later time.

For now, the warm waning days of August and dinnertime banter is more than enough to delight.

K: (interrupting the satisfied crunching and butter slurping with this completely out-of-the-blue question) Why did you want to be a lightbulb when you grew up?

A: I don’t know. Mom said I could be anything I wanted when I grew up. I was just little – maybe 3 or 4. It was just something I said. Why do you ask?

K: Well, I always thought black jelly beans were cool. They were all black and slick-looking -- almost shiny.

A: You wanted to be a black jelly bean when you grew up? Now that’s just ridiculous.

K: No, I didn't want to be a black jelly bean -- I just thought they were cool! And wanting to be a lightbulb wasn’t ridiculous?

A: Hmmmmm. . . nope.

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Sunday Dane Swapping

As we were transacting the Dane trade for the second leg of our Dane train early this afternoon, Steve mentions in passing that Merrick expressed an interest in exchanging his aft-SUV position for a fore-SUV position on the ride from St. Louis. Laughing dismissively, we load Presley, who rode completely without incident, perched demurely in the back of the CRV to our rendezvous point in Columbia, into the back of Steve’s vehicle.
Merrick, in the meantime, hops into the back of our car. He rides along quite nicely for about 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes in the folded down cargo area of the CRV, he slowly moves his front legs onto the folded seat backs.














He responds only minimally to K’s arm-gate block.

He makes a full-fledged move over the seat barrier into the front of the car.

















He seems to have a great appreciation for the view out the front windshield.















He aspired to become a hood ornament.

Whereupon, we pull off the road at some random Central Missouri location to re-assess riding arrangements. I had proposed at one point Merrick could ride in the front passenger seat and K could move to the back. K was not in favor of this. We decided on a compromise: flip the back seats up so Merrick could ride on the bench seat instead of on the dashboard or in the cargo area.

He found this gave him a satisfactory view.















And he settled down for a well-earned nap.