BOWDEN'S GUN

Every boy out west should have gun. At least that's my idealized notion. So for Bowden's last birthday I bought him a BB gun for $30.00 at Walmart. For a couple of years Bowden and I have been going out with Grandpa Dave's old BB gun, and I have been teaching him the gun safety tips which were drilled itno me over my four months at the VT police academy.

Bowden loves it! He even loves the rules. It's all very adult and official sounding. (It actually is a very sober and adult kind of topic.) I think he's actually a pretty good shot as well. Watch out varmints!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOWDEN!!!

Bowden is no longer 7 years old, and, in fact, he will never be 7 again. He is eight years old, and for his brithday he received his own room (complete with a desk with lots of drawers!) and a BB gun. Watch out ground squirrels!!! He's coming for you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK!!!

It was four years ago today that Sarah got all Jacked up.

Happy birthday, m'boy!

HIM NOT VERY CONSIDERATE

Yesterday evening, I was forced to leave Bowden's baseball game and zip back home after I discovered Jack sobbing in a heap outside of the porta-potty. "I PEED my pants!" he howled as I walked up to him. I wanted to scoop him up and whisk him away to The van, but...er...well...he had peed his pants and I wasn't just about to scoop him up or otherwise convey him for fear of being soggied with Jack-Juice. So instead I encouraged him to walk toward the van. It was painfully slow progress with Jack crying the entire way and constantly begging, in fact pleading, for me to pick him up and carry him. I almost gave in too, after all it wouldn't have been the first time I had been soggied, sometimes expedience requires it, but I finally decided to stay the course and make him walk all the way to the van.

Him howled across the basketball court. Him howled across the playground. Him howled down the sidewalk and across the parking lot. The entire time him top speed was about .000000012 miles per hour. Him put more energy into voicing him displeasure than walking, but I do not negotiate with terrorists like Jack. "C'mon Jack. We're amost there," was my mantra.

When we finally reached the van I stripped him of his soggy and soiled clothes leaving him dressed after the fashion of Winny-The-Poo (naked from the waist down).

As we drove home to get a change of clothes I was feeling frustrated so I asked Jack, "Why did you pee your pants?"

"Cause it was easier," him said.

Him not very considerate.

John and Lisa made a video.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE FIRST LADY OF THE BUMMER-FREE ZONE AND WALKING EXHIBIT OF THE CREATOR'S AMAZING HANDIWORK, SARAH TATE- 33 YEARS OLD!!!

Gigi

Sometimes I think that the best measure of a person's influence in life is the hole they leave when they die. I don't want to engage in hyperbole, which is always a temptation when people die, but Grandma's departure has left a huge hole in the fabric of her family. That is obvious to me. It's hard for me to imagine future family gatherings without her being there. She and Umpa were twin architects of a wonderful family, which has been a tremendous blessing to me personally, and it must be noted  that the family's culture flows naturally from their personalities. Grandma was kind, warm, generous, honest, hard-working, conservative, fun, adventurous, unpretentious, and comfortable in her own skin. In many ways this is a fair description of her family too.  I will always be grateful to her for the family she formed with Umpa, and which I was fortunate enough to marry into. Above all, my heart is heavy for Umpa who finds himself alone without his partner of 64 years.

These days will come to us all. It's a sad truth. They can't be sidestepped or avoided. They must be dealt with and understood because even now, they are coming as surely and unalterably as the rising sun, cresting the horizon and moving toward us. If we are given many more years under the sun we will mourn and bear witness to these days time and time again, and one day it will be our turn. This day will come to us all.

Grandma was ready.

There is one more descriptive term for Grandma, which I would be remiss not to mention- she was a follower of Christ. I think that to say otherwise would be a serious misrepresentation of the woman. I know the reality of her faith from my many conversations with her, and she often told me that this was her desire for her family as well. God was at the center of her life, and I believe that she wanted very much for God to be at the center of her family as well. She was a spiritually-minded person and she knew that this day was coming. By God's grace she was well prepared for it. She lived her life with an eternal perspective, and an an abiding, governing faith in Christ. I believe that she has stepped outside of time. She has shed her old body for a new one and is even now seeing things that no eye has ever seen, hearing things that no ear has ever heard, and experiencing things that no mind has ever conceived of. She is in the presence of her Lord, and her Hope, Jesus Christ.

A BUDDING NAPOLEAN?

Sarah returned from a WIC appointment for Miles the other day with some amazing news about our little boy*. He's in the 1 percentile for height. One? Yep. One. That means that 99% of kids his age are taller then our wee little Miles. I did a little research and one percentile basically means that he's a leprechaun. I have never noticed that he is so dimunitve, but since hearing this shocking news I have begun comparing him to other toddlers and he is, in fact, kind of wee. L'audace, Miles, toujours l'audace!

* My readership is a more fractious coalition of disparate/divergent interests then a balkan state. Although the BFZ is not truly a "family blog" (What kind of blog is it? I don't know.) I do have to toss the family bloc a bone every once in a while with these posts about the kiddos.

PRAYING

"Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed
And in your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them."
Psalm 139:16

PROPOSED FLAGS FOR THE WESTERN TATES

"But I am like an olive tree

flourishing in the house of God;
I trust in God's unfailing love

for ever and ever."

Psalm 52:8

Classic 

I like this one. It is vaguely reminiscent of a struggling banana republic, isn't it? Or perhaps a former colony in subsaharan Africa, which obtained freedom from Europe only to descend into a maddening cycle of sham elections, coups, and strongmen. Can't you just see it flying over a presidential palace, which stands in stark, gleeming contrast with the surrounding slums and shanties. Sandbag barricades and whip-thin men with AK-47's stand beneath the flag near a large, bullet-riddled mural of the great leader, and U.N. Peacekeepers patrol the streets in advance of elections, the outcome of which are doomed to be viewed with suspicion.

The keepers of the western door.

Vote on which flag you like best in the poll to the right.

THE BUMMER-FREE ZONE IS PEOPLED BY SUCH AS THESE.

EVERY NIGHT I FALL ASLEEP ON A QUEEN SIZE BED BUT I WAKE UP ON A WINDOW SILL

Jack's future wife, whoever and wherever you are, I want you to know that I have begun training your future husband on how to share a bed.

Jack is the only child of ours who still finds his way into our bed on a nightly basis. That kid is all elbows and knees. Usually I am just too tired to take him back so I let him settle in next to me. It's a bad idea, I know, but laziness/sleepiness dulls my good judgment and at two in the morning I'm inclined to compromise with the little tyrant. If I do show some backbone and take him back he will most likely cry and throw a fit, which could wake up the baby, and I definitely don't have the energy or patience for that, but if I allow him to continue climbing into our bed I will also end up losing sleep. I hope Jack's future wife appreciates this.

A MYSTERIOUS ZIP-DRIVE OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN

A couple of weeks ago my brother, John, presented me with a zip-drive, which he had found in the pocket of one of his coats. He couldn't recall how he had come into possession of said zip-drive, but advised me that it contained some pictures of my kids "and stuff." Clearly this collection of photographs appear to be Jobaic in origin, but John couldn't confirm anything about the zip-drive's pics. I enjoyed looking through them and thought some of you might as well.

Back in 2007, the whole family flew out to VT for some vacation. When we landed in Albany, NY we had the good fortune to happen onto Uncle Job who was making his way home from boot camp. It was a great, coincidental, small-world kind of moment. Job was trying to arrange for a rental car, but we just made room in ours and he rode with us from Albany the lake house in Benson. Here are the kids (sans Miles who was not yet part of the scene) with their sailor Uncle in the baggage claim in Albany.

Same vacation- all of the cousins except for Baby Jack on Rock Dundar down by the lake.

Lucy's baby curls.

Elisabeth.

Bowden is a skins fan.

This is my favorite picture of the bunch.

Rest easy, America. Job is on it.

Lucy was eating a chocolate covered, frozen banana.

Gracie.

Baby Jack on the persian rug out at the Lake House.

Bowden and me.

Sarah and me.

Les cousins.

The Lake House

Lucy asleep on the floor of the sleeping porch in 2007.

This picture was taken right before we left on that vacation in 2007. We had packed the car and changed the kids into their travel clothes, but then we decided that we had time for just one more short walk out the road before we left. Moths are drawn to flame like Little Lucy was drawn to puddles.

The VT Tate girls.

And just for good measure a photo of the old service master van that all of us Tate boys used to drive when we worked for Service master. Good times.