what not to do on a first date

I had a random memory pop into my head today.
I was a sophomore in High School, and newly 16.  Which meant I could date.
A couple of boys at school had asked me to go out a few months before I turned 16, and I happily used the phrase "I can't date until I'm 16."  So some of them, it turns out, were waiting for my birthday, and then re-asked.  This was one of those guys.  I sat next to him in history class.
(My daughter thinks this story makes me sound like I was so popular,,, don't be misled.  I was not.)
I was happy about maybe one or two of those incidents, but mostly not so much.
Dating gave me heartburn.  And hives.
I am still not very good at finding polite ways to say "NO" in all areas of my life, so it is not surprising that I had the same problem in my social life.
ANYWAY.
This guy asked me to go to a concert with him.
The Cars!
Of course I went.
We sat in the bleachers, and the music was SO loud, I couldn't hear what little conversation he was making with me.  I just kind of politely nodded my head and smiled.  After the concert, he was going to drive me home, and asked if I'd like to go to McDonald's.  (Classy, I know.)  I said "Sure!" because I was a woman of many words.  We got to the parking lot, and I actually saw a few people that I knew (and was friends with) inside the restaurant, so I started to feel a little bit happy, because I'd be able to talk to some people.  Then he whips the car around and we drive through the drive-thru lane and he orders a small fries and a coke at the window.  He didn't think to ask me if I wanted anything.  So I didn't offer.  (it's just amazing to think back on what an awkward date this was)  He then parked the car in the lot, and proceeded to eat his food.  By this, I mean he probably was much more comfortable filling his mouth than using it to talk to me, because this had not been going so well.  He picked up the little paper envelope that the fries came in, and munched the tops of the fries right off.  Then, almost as an afterthought, he turned and looked at me, and held out the little paper thingy, and asked "Did you want some fries?"
Umm.... no.  Thanks.
And we went home.
The end.

Pinewood Derby: A Million Dollar Day

 The big day!

Oh... the anticipation was BIGGER.

 there were a lot of cars,

and LOTS of waiting.

 (maybe some praying)

 This little scout's whole heart was invested in the racing...

His face tells the story:

 disbelief,

amazement

 and a congratulatory pat on the back from his pal after his car took FIRST PLACE in the first heat!

He didn't win the derby, 

but the day was a SUCCESS.

maybe I just give up...

maybe Cub Scouts and rooster tails

just GO together.

pinewood prep

 these two spent some serious time getting ready for the big derby.

OH! (culture)

 something about January

and my craving for culture...

 I talked Mr. Dub into an evening out, into which both of us waltzed, completely unaware of how saturated with culture this evening would be.

 Months and months ago, we went on 

a morning date to Clinton.  

We happened to drive past a building that caught my eye, and I just knew we would have to go back.

 The sign on the building read:

Museum of Russian Icons.

 Honestly, I entered the building with a completely incorrect assumption of what we would find.  A distinctive and emblematic part of Russian culture, icons trace their roots back to the year 988 when the pagan Rus’ were converted to Christianity. For over 1,000 years, Orthodox Christianity, the Greek branch of the Christian faith, informed and shaped the spiritual and cultural foundation of Russian society and directed the creative energies of craftsman and artists. Icon painting and the veneration of icons also originated in the Greek Orthodox tradition and were imported into Russia.

We couldn't have been more delighted!  

 the collection was impressive, interesting, and actually quite amazing.  It included this oldest icon (above) in the museum collection of John the Baptist, dating back to the 15th century.

 If we had allowed ourselves the time, I know I could have spent at least an hour studying the very large and intricate icon portraying the final judgment (below).

The real reason for our visit was a concert.

"A Russian Souvenir with Maria Lyudko."

She came from Russia as part of a trio, including an accomplished pianist and a very talented clarinetist.  WOW!  It was a very intimate concert experience in a small room with less than three dozen in attendance.  We sat in the front row, close enough to hold hands with the performers, and blown away by the beauty and clarity of the performance.

Georges, the clarinet player was a complete gentleman; he about blew the reed off his horn.  Maria was a top notch performer; acclaimed in Russia, and charming in person.  She even posed for a picture.

She spoke in Russian the entire evening, with her clarinet companion as her translator.  Even though we didn't understand a lick of Russian, it was easy to become lost in the universal language that is music.  I sat there wanting ALL of my friends and family to be part of that experience...

Lucky us.

The videos below aren't from our concert, but they might somewhat portray the quality of our night of culture.

a BIG win.

Oh! La-La... (hola!)

I couldn't help but laugh as I watched Rooney sculpt a snow message to Yonder.

To her credit,

she has NOT taken Spanish (yet).

No matter what the language,

the message is clear:

she LOVES her brother in Panama.

today's snow

makes me HAPPY!