Oak Hill

Since our hike up Kearsarge went so well, we decided to try a hike closer to home.  Oak Hill is nearly in our back yard and is normally about an hour and a half hike (from what I understand).  We learned that three year old legs significantly lengthen the travel time.  I think it took us three hours round trip!  In his defense it was a little more challenging hike for Brody than Kearsarge. However because of this, he felt it was appropraite to sit down in the middle of the trail about halfway up and refuse to walk another step (isn't 3 grand?)!  He said his legs hurt and he didn't know how to walk anymore. At the promise of chocolate at the top (a little trick we learned from Auntie Laura), he picked himself up and we eventually made it to the top.

All in all (minus the halfway standoff) it was a great little hike.

Brody is showing you the "chocolate" he is eating at the top!

And this is when he realized that the "chocolate" was really only tiny pieces in a granola bar and he's thinking "WTF mom? I can't believe I hiked all the way up here for a stinkin' granola bar!"

But then he got to climb the fire tower and once again everything was right in the world!

 All the excitement and exercise knocked him right out though.  Thankfully Daddy is strong and was able to carry him on his back the rest of way down.

One last beach day

We said goodbye to the beach season this year with a fabulous warm fall day at York. I was able to snap pictures of the boys from the comfort of our beach blanket while thay ran around and in and out of the water.  Ryan and Brody are two peas in pod these days. Brody's "mommy phase" has officially passed (if he ever had one).  It is all about Daddy now.  Good thing he's got such a great one!

 Oooh look...Mommy finally got a moment with Brody to steal a hug and a kiss!

It was short-lived though, back to Daddy time! 

 The final dip in the ocean for the season...see you next year beach!

Heading to the Mountains

We got the family together and headed to Mt. Kearsarge in Warner last weekend.  Brody was very excited to hike his first mountain!  He did great.  He hiked the entire way up by himself and more than halfway back down before he needed a shoulder ride from Daddy!  He climbed the steep rocks, jumped the streams, and kept up with everyone.  Every once in a while I could hear him talking to himself (he gets that from his Pa!), giving himself little pep talks "I can do it!" he would say under his breath!  And then every now and then he would shout out "Hike!"  It was a little chilly at the top, but the views were well worth it!

Brody is in good form and high spirits at the beginning of the hike

Brody and Wilder stop for a quick photo!

Belle, Wilder, and Bro at one of the look outs along the way.

Belle and Brody at the top!

He was pretty proud of himself!

Moms and babes!  (I mean babies, but we do still look pretty good!)

Auntie Joan and the kids!

Mimi and the kids!

The rest of the gang

Having a snack back at the truck.

And after all that hiking, we stopped to pick apples at Gould Hill.  There was more playing than picking, but the kids had a blast and were worn out by the time we got home!

Brody and Wilder somehow had enough energy to run around and wrestle at the orchard!

All in all, a perfect September day!

Three Little Birds

OK, so I think there might be 5 or 6 little birds.  Regardless...our house has become an aviary. 

Our first experience with birds taking over was when we had a phoebe nest on the front porch.  The mother bird was not so keen on us using the front porch while her brood was still in the nest.  She would fly away when we opened the front door and then every 2-3 minutes she would fly over, look at us in a very impatient and irritated way and then fly over to a nearby rock and just watch us.  I swear her wings were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her little foot.  Eventually we just stopped using the front porch because I couldn't handle her guilt trips anymore!  Thankfully the front porch phoebes have flown the coop, but not without causing quite a commotion.

So here is the sad, sad story of the front porch phoebes.  A few weeks ago, shortly after giving up the porch to the birds, Brody and drove home and I noticed some "debris" on the floor of the porch.  I got Brody inside and all settled and then looked out the bathroom window to see what could possibly be littering our porch.  I was heartbroken when I saw that it was the four little phoebes, having fallen or been pushed out of their nest.  What was even more heartbreaking was when I realized that one was still breathing.  I had to do something, I couldn't let the poor thing just lay their and die on my front porch.  What to do?  What to do?  I paced the hallway trying to think...my mind was racing.  So I called Audubon - they were open until 5pm and it was only 4:30. Ring, ring... It went straight to voicemail.  Damn!  Redial...voicemail again!  Damn, damn those Audubon bastards.  I knew they were there, probably helping someone in the gift shop when I had a REAL bird emergency here.  So I called the person that I always call when tragedy strikes...my dad. 

Of course I don't really know why I call my dad because he usually isn't able to actually help the situation, case in point, I was driving to work on Route 13 back when we lived in Goffstown, tragedy struck and I called my dad, the conversation went a little something like this...

Dad: "Hello?"

Me (through tears): "Dad, I'm on my way to work and I just hit a badger.  It was huge Dad and it's definitely dead.  I feel AWFUL!"

Dad: "Jilly?  Where are you?"

Me: (sniff, sniff) "I'm on my way to work."

Dad: "In New Hampshire?"

Me (irritated now): "Yes, in New Hampshire!"

Dad: "Well, then you didn't hit a badger."

Me (fuming): "Well I hit something and I killed it."

By the end of the conversation we had determined that it was in fact a ground hog, not a badger that I hit, and that I was an idiot for not knowing that we don't have badgers in the northeast.  And as irritating as it was, by the end of the conversation I wasn't quite as heartbroken as I had been at the beginning of the conversation.  So even though my dad can't actually fix it...he fixes it and because of that, he's my go to tragedy man.  After a quick talk with him, somehow I was brave enough to go out on the front porch and deal with the birds.  After all, I didn't want Brody to open the door and see a pile of tiny dead birds.  So...I put my raincoat on and winter gloves because I didn't want that fiesty momma bird to attack me and I didn't want to leave any residue scent on the baby bird so she would reject it.  And somehow, I managed to pick up the three dead birds and put them in a shoebox and then - I seriously have no idea how I did this, but I was able to pick up the last living baby bird and get it back in the nest.  Take that Audubon!

Now, I don't know if the baby actually made it, but the mother came back and spent another week or more tending to the nest so I'm hopeful that it all worked out OK.

The next experience with birds taking over is still ongoing.  We have our front porch back, but the tower on Brody's swingset has been taken over by robins.  When Ryan and Brody went to check on the nest the other day, one of the 5 or 6 little chicks had hatched and poked his headup at them, eyes still closed, only a muppet-like tuft of hair on it's otherwise naked little body.  That afternoon I was able to get a picture and a quick video of the little guys (or gals).  Another one had hatched and they were just chilling out and enjoying the freedom of being outside their eggs.  We've had a serious heat wave over the last few days and I haven't checked the nest again to see if they others have hatched and how they are making out in the heat, but here is what they looked like the other day. 

That's all the bird stories for now.  I'll let you know what else hatches!

Hampton or Bust

So those of you who know us (yes, I'm making a big assumption that someone other than me actually reads this blog), know that we're typically the York type of beach people.  We like the family-friendly atmosphere, the quaint shops, the slower pace.  As I've said before the ocean is one of the few places we can go and really relax and have a good time.  So why, you might ask, did we decide to go to Hampton Beach...home of the arcade boardwalk, the Casino Ballroom, and more people in fewer clothes than should ever be worn (or not worn as the case may be) in public?  Blame it on good advertising!  We had heard over and over again on the radio and TV how this amazing sandcastle competition was going to be at Hampton Beach...famous beach sculptors from across the country (this should have tipped me off on the false advertising...are there really famous beach sculptors?) were going to be there.  Anyway, we bought into it and after a late start, due to some craigslist negotiating that I won't get into right now, and a few miles of bumper to bumper traffic, we arrived at Hampton.

Now Brody doesn't care where we go, what state, what town, what beach...it's all the same ocean to him.  If there are waves to chase and sand to dig, he's a happy boy.  So the sandcastle competition ended up being a bust, but we still had a blast...and thanks to the regular Hampton Beach-goers, the people watching was plentiful and quite entertaining!

Sorry I forgot to warn you to put your sunglasses on before looking at these pictures.  What can I say, Brody is a pasty shade of Irish -not much I can do about that - and insisted on taking his shirt off.

I know, I know, you can see his ribs and he looks slightly Ethiopian, but I swear we feed him and I can't help that his foods of choice are raspberries and blueberries...do you know how many berries you need to eat to gain weight?

Doing the crazy beach dance...

This has got to be one of my favorite pictures of all time.  If this doesn't scream JOY..I don't know what does.

And now he's striking a "Clint" pose.  I think I have many pictures of my father looking like this at the ocean from our family vacations.

And he might only be three (in another month), but it's never too early to start checking out the ladies, and at Hampton...it's quite the site to check out! 

And here is Brody's favorite beach pastime...chasing the waves...

...and having the waves chase him.

All in all - a fabulous day at the beach.

Our Secret Swimming Hole!

OK, so it's totally not a secret, but we were SO excited to find a place nearby to put our kayaks in the water and go for a dip.  Hot Hole Pond it a very small pond just a few minutes drive from our house.  If the kayaks weren't so heavy, would could literally walk there in 15 minutes or so.  There is a great boat launch, a nice parking area, and even a deck to fish off of if you're so inclined.  This was the first time that Brody has been out on the kayaks with us.  He was so excited and loved every minute of it.  Of course, being my son, the sound of the water on the bottom of the kayak nearly lulled him to sleep.  He loved dipping his hands in the water over the side and loved watching Ryan paddle backwards...just like "Mater".  After the kayaking, Brody wanted to take a "swim"...I use the term loosely.

All in all, it was a FABULOUS day!

In the orange kayak...paddling with a little man in front of you is a wee bit challenging!

Swimming with Daddy!

Life's a Beach!

After spending Memorial Day at the beach, we're feeling a little sad about not renting a place this summer.  Not that we don't love spending time at home and that we don't have enough landscaping to full up the next three summers, but there is just something about the beach that allows our shoulders to relax and lets us breath a little deeper and a little easier.  The beach is the only place that we seem to be able to slow down.  Where we gauge the passing of time by the movement of the sun in the sky and the grumbles in our stomachs instead of the clocks on the wall and the beeping of alarms!

While we enjoyed our respective ice cream cones (frozen yogurt for Ryan!) at Browns and enjoyed the healing sea air we vowed to take as many day trips as possible and to eat ice cream on each and every trip!  Brody had an absolutely fabulous time.  We have vacationed at the beache very year since he was born - a tradition that I will thank Auntie Ev and Uncle Pat for since their wedding in York, ME started it all!  Brody picked up right where he left off last year.  Playing in the sand, chasing the waves.  He had a BLAST and was pooped out by the time we headed home.

Trucks on the beach...

Looking at the seagulls

Checking out the ocean...

Snack time!

Stolen kisses!

All tuckered out!