Savior of the World Update

I mentioned a few months ago that the entire Woody clan had auditioned for our Stake's production of "Savior of the World." Thought it might be a chuckle to see what ol' Woody looks like with a few months' worth of growth on his face:



CAPTION CONTEST!

Is this:

a) Zacharias praying in the Temple?

b) Woody reminding someone in authority that the request was NO kids with personality? Or

c) Make up your own. Be creative. Just remember that this is a family-friendly blog.

By the way, for those who know and still love us, the Stake has called a photographer to chronicle the entire production. The snap above was taken by Kathy Willis who set up a blog over at http://plumtreelane.blogspot.com/. Browse around. You'll notice that I appear to have two wives. This is not an attempt to inject obscure early LDS practices into the bibical account, I assure you. We had a casting change after a couple of weeks and I am now working with another Elizabeth. Really.

Anyway, scan through and you may even see a few snaps of the Woodyettes here and there.

You Can't Beat Mom's Recipe

One of the innumerable reasons why I married Mrs. Woody is that she reminds me a lot of my own Mom. She has many of the same wonderful qualities that Mom possesses, along with not a few of her own. This combination of qualities means that Woody is a happy man indeed.

Take, for instance, food. I'm big (har!) on comfort foods. There are certain foods that always work for me, no matter what my mood. Lasagna is one such. Mrs. Woody discovered a crock-pot version that we enjoy tremendously. Six hours on "Low" and we have a comfort food dinner.

One of my favorite holiday memories involves the seemingly gigantic pot of clam chowder that Mom would make every year. She would make it early in the day, then leave it on the stove for anyone who got a little peckish for shellfish throughout the day. No schedule; just good tasting food.

Mrs. Woody discovered this tradition during one of our early Christmases together. Mom was still living in the old house in Simi Valley and we were living just down the highway a few miles. Mrs. Woody thoroughly enjoyed the chowder and naturally asked Mom about the recipe. When she discovered just how easy it was, a new (old) comfort food was introduced at Hacienda Woody.

So Friday night (a tad late, but we've been sick) we put together Mom's Clam Chowder™. Got a couple of meals out of it, except for Jelly who is more than a little suspicious of rubbery foods. For Woody it was a chance to zoom back in time to Mom's kitchen which was always more than just a food preparation area. Mom's kitchen was the nerve center of the family. It was the Gathering Place where we could hang out and (because the statute of limitations had long since run out) tell embarrassing stories about each other so Mom could pretend to be horrified about what awful children we were.

Mrs. Woody also picked up on Mom's pumpkin pie recipe. No big secret there, I'm afraid, because it's the same recipe that comes straight off the can of pumpkin. But it holds that one secret ingredient that instantly identifies it as Mom's (or Mrs. Woody's) recipe: lots of love. It's another one of those tastes that instantly transports me to other times and places, always with terrific memories attached. A few funny ones, too, but Woody is far too galant to share them with his bloggy audience.

As Mrs. Woody said, "You can't beat Mom's recipe!" It just works.

As I Get Older...

...my daughters age as well. Fortunately for them, the aging is still graceful. As in, "she is aging gracefully." Whereas Woody just ages. Even Mrs. Woody ages more like a savings account: she just gets more and more valuable as the years progress. Woody, on the other hand, begins to look more like an "after" photo from a Thompson's Wood Sealer® commercial. Or maybe that's just the beard.

Anyway, we visited with our families over the holiday break and had a wonderful time. But I had to tell you one story in particular that just tickled everyone's funny bone.

We were visiting my youngest sister in their new home. They've recently moved back to California after living for a couple of years in Texas. Whatever brain disease they had suffered apparently dissapated and they left the Tornado Belt for good ol' Shake and Bake country. Their realtor who is named (really) Cookie decided to help them host a house-warming party last Saturday.

Family and friends began appearing at the appointed hour, and most of us had kids of various ages. Our young nephews have a "secret" room upstairs, and they immediately conducted their cousins and acquaintances thereunto.

After eating and schmoozing with the adult contingent, a few of us were naturally curious as to why it seemed so quiet upstairs. One of us (I believe it was my sister's step-father-in-law) made so bold as to go up and investigate and came back down chuckling. Apparently several of them, ranging in age from teenagers belonging to my other sister down to a few eight-year-olds had Nintendo DS® devices, and were busily engaged in a cluster PictoChat session. The youngster equivalent of a hot texting session for teenagers.

So I had to investigate for myself. Sure enough, my two Woodyettes were among the participants, and it was eerie to see about a half-dozen kids sitting quietly while communicating with electronic drawings.

I'm sure there's a larger lesson here dealing with loss of interpersonal communication skills, but, hey, this was family. Jelly even renewed an acquaintance with my sister's sister-in-law that's about Jelly's age. "I found a new friend!" was how she put it. So I score this one as a good thing.

Happy New Year to you all!

God Bless Homeschool

One of the greatest blessings of homeschool is the flexibility built into the schedule. If our academy decides that a field trip is in order, we hop in our trusty minivan and take a field trip. There are no permission slips or extra insurance liability to worry over; we just go.

Today was a "just go" kind of day. A month ago or so when we took advantage of Homeschool Days at the Aquarium of the Pacific, we decided that this would be a good year to hold a membership there. For less than it would take this family to have a day at one of the local Disney parks, we can visit the Aquarium whenever we want for an entire year. We even get breaks on parking, so that our Aquarium adventure today cost us all of $6.00. That was $3.00 for parking, and another $3.00 to feed the lorikeets. Everything else was covered by our membership.

This is good because our family loves the Aquarium. The hard part is seeing all of it in a single visit. We're the kind of family that loves to linger over exhibits and take our time oohing and aahing over the various fauna throughout the museum. Of particular interest to our Woodyettes are the harbor seals and sea lions on display there. We weren't there during the feeding/training show, but we love to just sit and watch the animals. Today a few of them were quite playful, chasing each other around the tank and play-fighting. We had excellent views from the underground viewing windows.

After about an hour and a half or so, Woody was getting a bit worn out. It was decided to go have some lunch ("Hey, we can come back in a few weeks!"), then see about visiting one of the local beaches.

We lunched on breakfast at a local IHOP, which is always a treat for our family. We've loved IHOP since Mrs. Woody and I were dating. It's always fun to have breakfast for lunch, and we feasted well on crepes, pancakes, eggs, and fruit.

From there we drove down PCH for a few miles into Seal Beach, which is actually back in Orange County. We found the pier at the end of Main St, which was (hooray!) wheelchair accessible. We all had a chance to walk (or ride) down the pier. By then it was late enough in the afternoon that a beautiful silver glow could be seen where the sun was getting low over the horizon. A couple of wind-surfers could be seen gliding across the breakers, and fishermen were having various levels of success up and down the pier. The girls enjoyed watching them pull in a few fish, and one fellow even caught a small dogfish shark.

A quick stop at Sonic on our way home for Slushes was the perfect ending to our "just go" adventure.

Adventures are part of the fun we have as a family. We call them "adventures," but they're really just opportunities to meander around an area, taking in the sights and not particularly worrying about where we're actually going. Aside from the Aquarium, we had no destinations firmly set. We just sort of pointed the car and drove.

Our tradition of "adventuring" began when Mrs. Woody realized early in our courting that occasionally Woody had absolutely no clue where he was going, but was determined to find it without having to (you guessed it) ask for directions. Mrs. Woody found that she actually enjoyed just being with me enough that she renamed this bane of all female existence an "adventure" and just went along with it.

Nowadays, of course, we have GPS if we really need to find something, so a day like today required simply admitting that we wanted to meander rather than arrive somewhere.

It's all quite therapeutic, and (since we homeschool) quite educational as well. The Woodyettes got to learn a bit more about marine life, and the Headmistress and Dean of the Academy got a chance to get out of the house go off-campus for awhile.

We love homeschool!

Family Auditions

I have mentioned over the years our triumphs in getting the Woodyettes to sing in church. Every year for the Primary presentation Mrs. Woody and I sit and watch our girls struggle with the concept of singing (or even appearing to sing) in public. The first few years were downright painful. In fact, Jelly actually had a pained expression on her face (when we could see it through the crowd of kids behind which she was strategically placed) as if making her do this were a form of punishment.

Then, over time, both girls got to a point where — perhaps not quite willingly — they both will sing. They even move their mouths to show that they have learned the words as well. And each successive year gets a little bit better. (Important note: this year will be Jelly's last ever Primary presentation. Next year she will have become a Beehive and even attended her first ever Girls Camp. Yikes!)

A few months ago we became aware of our Stake's desire to produce the Church's musical presentation called "The Savior of the World." This is the production for which the Stake Presidency asked me to present a series of lessons giving the historical and spiritual background of the events covered by the script. We were also aware that, as a member of the Anaheim Mormon Chorale (which is based in our stake) I was already considered a member of the chorus.

When they announced open auditions for the Angel Choir, Mrs. Woody expressed a desire to participate. There are some logistical challenges to be considered, but Mrs. Woody has a wonderful, sweet alto voice and will be a valuable member of the choir. What surprised us, however, was Jelly's desire to be a part of the show. Over the summer, perhaps as a result of listening to Daddy's lessons, she had begun to ask whether she might be able to participate in the chorus, so long as she didn't have to do any real, you know, acting.

Of course, this sets up a huge paradox. Performing in a production like this requires auditions. Auditions require the candidate to sing, generally alone, in front of several people. Jelly's shyness is such that we knew she would struggle mightily with this concept of auditioning, even for a relatively safe chorus part. However, we also knew that she can sing, in key, and has a wonderful, sweet voice just like her mother. So can the Doodle, but she had already stated her intention to be a member of the audience. She did NOT like the idea of singing, even in a chorus, in front of other people.

Auditions were set for this weekend. There were three slots available on Friday evening, Saturday afternoon, and tonight. In typical Mormon fashion, about 90% of the aspirants waited until tonight to audition. So we decided to go tonight and have Mrs. Woody audition. We also encouraged the girls that, if they wanted to, they could audition as well.

That's when the stomach aches began. Headaches, too. Loss of sleep, even. It got worse yesterday when we actually picked out songs on which to audition. Mrs. Woody went with "Lead, Kindly Light" because it was one of few songs in the hymn book that keep the melody low enough for her alto voice to shine through. Jelly's favorite song is "I Am a Child of God," and we sing it nearly every night as a family as part of our bedtime devotional. When we tried to get her to practice it, however, the lock-jaw set in. So did the headache. Ultimately, as the Woodyettes are wont to do, Doodle offered to sing with Jelly, even though she wasn't intending to audition herself, if it would help Jelly feel braver.

Throughout the day today Jelly vacillated between wanting to audition, and wanting instead to be in a completely different time zone when the auditions happened. Right up until Mrs. Woody and I walked into the audition room we had no idea if Jelly was going to audition or not. I had actually filled out an audition sheet for her on the off chance that she might change her mind. However, she had spent the time waiting for the audition turning various shades of green.

Mrs. Woody went first. I should mention that JoLane Jolley, the music director, is also our director for the Chorale. A sweeter, more gracious lady you could not hope to find. She knows exactly how to make people feel at ease (or as much as is physically possible under such circumstances), and was at the piano herself tonight. Mrs. Woody did a wonderful job, and I am sure will be an anchor in the alto part of the choir. They had me sing because, I think, they're looking into some of the other ancillary parts that require singing in the production and want to know what they have to work with. (Asked if I was willing to grow a beard. Well, yeah, I am, although they get pretty itchy. But Mrs. Woody loves 'em, so there are benefits.)

Then we asked the Woodyettes if they wanted to sing together. Doodle had been watching Mommy and Daddy audition and was having second thoughts about auditioning herself, but only if she could sing with her sister. So, with great trepidation, Jelly and Doodle stood side by side next to Sis. Jolley and sang "I Am a Child of God."

They by no means belted it out (Daddy was hovering over their shoulders encouraging them to sing out, and even Sis. Jolley was trying to help them sing a bit louder), but it was sweet and on key. Mommy and Daddy were absolutely thrilled. As much because they scraped together enough courage to actually audition as by the performance they gave.

We have little doubt that the girls would do well as members of a larger chorus. So long as they aren't required to do anything that would get them noticed in any way, they'll be cool. Mrs. Woody is excited about the prospect of performing in this production. She's been feeling some promptings that I feel certain come from the Spirit, and this will be a good experience for her.

Daddy is thrilled to think that his whole little family might be in this play together.

But most of all, we are so prilled (proud and thrilled, so we don't have to actually say "proud") of our Woodyettes. They both overcame a huge monster that lives in their bellies tonight, and that counts for a lot in this life. My patriarchal blessing tells me that on occasion I need to make myself do things that I know are right, even if my natural inclination is to avoid them. That's what my (not so) little girls did tonight.

What a family!

Visiting Ancient Greece with an Ancient Geek

I have joked for years — since I returned from my mission, really — about being an ancient Mayan ruin. I came home from Guatemala with dysentery and appear to have been crumbling structurally ever since. Moderately, to be sure, but I have more creaks and groans in my bones than you might find in the Haunted Mansion®.

I say this because yesterday was a big Field Trip Day for Wonderwood Academy, home of the World Famous Woodyettes™. They've been studying ancient Greece for the past few months, and yesterday was meant to be the culmination of that unit. Mrs. Woody has details of the field trip over at her blog. She organized the trip on behalf of our local homeschool group and those who braved yesterday's weather enjoyed quite a treat.

But we start with the weather. The song says that it never rains in Southern California. This is a lie. Of course it rains in Southern California. Specifically, it rains on those days when we have arranged our schedules so that we can do special things with the girls. Yesterday was the first real rain we've had here pretty much all year. This was a pacific storm that blew in and dumped well over an inch in many parts of the area. Most of it seemed to fall on the freeways I was feverishly attempting to navigate. My hands were clenched tight on the steering wheel and I got cramps in my foot. The cramps were the result of trying hard not to exceed about 50 miles per hour, at which point hydroplaning became a problem.

I will say this, however. Once we got to the museum, the weather seemed to decide we were serious about having this field trip and began backing off. By the time we did the final garden tour, it had abated. In fact, it probably helped us by weeding out the less-than-dedicated museum goers so that the museum was wonderfully uncrowded while we were there. (Just to remind me who was boss, it returned and nagged us all the way home. Reminds me of some sopranos I've known.)

The museum, though, was tremendous. J. Paul Getty amassed a tremendous collection of art over the years, but his greatest collection (and deepest passion, apparently) was antiquities. In 1997, the foundation that runs the museum decided that the antiquities needed to be showcased in their own setting in surroundings that reflect the villas of Pompeii or Herculaneum prior to Vesuvius blowing her top. The resulting renovation now resembles a villa believed to have belonged to Julius Caesar's father-in-law and is called the "Villa dei Papirii."

Since this was our first time to the museum, we took two of the tours available. There was an overview that gives visitors an introduction to several of the significant collections and exhibits. It took us through four or five of the galleries and introduced us to chunks of wall from Pompeii, grecian pottery and wine cups, and statuary. The girls impressed our guide by demonstrating their newly acquired knowledge of Greek mythological characters.

The second tour was called the garden tour, but it was really an explanation of life in an ancient Roman villa. The caste systems of that time were explained to us, and we were shown how different parts of the villa would be used to both segregate and impress visitors to it. We saw which garden only family intimates might be able to visit, and which parts of the villa were meant to alternately impress or intimidate business contacts. They also have a full "kitchen garden" full of herbs and fruit trees that were germaine to the ancients' lifestyles.

I appreciate museums and historical exhibitions that have the ability to transport me to another culture and time. Perhaps this is one reason why, all joking aside, I enjoyed my particular mission. Guatemala is thought by many church scholars to be an area replete with Book of Mormon history. Indeed, the temples and other dwellings that have been discovered over the years are indicative of cities that may have been among those that were destroyed when the Savior visited the area following his crucifixion. It was easy for me to believe that I was living in Book of Mormon country. The people lived their simple existences fairly well cut-off from modern civilization, and adhered to many of the traditions of their ancestors. One felt a bit like Ammon and the sons of Mosiah while hiking around in the mountains where "roads" were few and far between.

To see physical evidences of ancient times has always fascinated me. Many of the pieces in Getty's collection pre-date the Savior Himself. They show stories that I learned in high school, and that the girls have just learned in homeschool. They were thrilled to see a gallery dedicated to Dionysos, for example, and enjoyed identifying drawings representing Hera, Aphrodite, and Paris. They saw statues of Orpheus and the Sirens. I had never seen a representation of a Siren. I'm pretty sure I would have been drinking some pretty strong wine before I would see beautiful women with what appeared to be stork legs.

By the end of our visit I was exhausted. I don't quite have the stamina that I used to, and chasing a bunch of kids around a museum can get me tuckered out pretty quickly. It was the sort of day that made me look forward to my nice, comfortable bed later on. Tired, yes; fairly stiff and sore, certainly. But a trip well worth the physical discomforts.

Bottom line: the Getty Villa is a great way to introduce your kids to ancient civilizations. Of all the questions these kids asked, though, this one reminded me why one must be careful when studying ancient Greece:

"Is everyone always naked in these pictures?"

Oops. Time for another lesson...

We're Off to See "The Wiz"

Last night we took the Woodyettes to see a local PTA production of "The Wiz." Like "Annie" last year, it was a chance for the Woodyettes to see a couple of their friends from church perform in a theatrical production, and they enjoyed it. So did I, but probably for different reasons.

"The Wiz" was created as a Broadway musical during the middle of the 70's and the "blaxploitation" craze of that period. It featured an all-black cast, hipper music, and plenty of jive. It was considered "ground-breaking" I suspect for those reasons. Three years later, Motown Productions bought the film rights, and Diana Ross muscled her way into the role of Dorothy (a huge stretch). As a musical on Broadway it enjoyed moderate success, running for four years. As a film it flopped pretty badly. Michael Jackson had a good turn as the Scarecrow, and Nipsey Russell was pretty funny as the Cowardly Lion. Diana Ross just never did anything for me as Dorothy. 'Course, I've never been a huge Diana Ross fan in general.

The real problem is that both the musical and the film were extremely topical. The heavily jive-oriented dialogue and ultra-hip settings probably made the show more of a curiousity than a "must see." The film relied on a fantasized version of New York's Harlem for its setting of Oz, and just never worked for me. The music is utterly forgettable, except for the thematic thread "Ease on Down the Road."

Fast-forward about thirty years and the show has taken on a new life. It's cute — quaint, even — to talk jive now. To hear a bunch of kids (of varying colors) spouting this dialogue, complete with all the attitude and ebonic-related head and arm movements, is pretty darned funny. The show is therefore enjoying a second life as a kind of window into the history of black America, with multi-cultural casts doing just as well with the material as the original casts did on Broadway (and, arguably, better than the film cast).

The PTA that sponsored this event covers at least a couple of schools, including a middle school, and the cast reflected that mix. The principles tended to be sixth or seventh grade kids, and the chorus made liberal use of every kid from kindergarten on. Woody was a Munchkin in the other musical version waaay back, and Woody still has a soft spot in his heart for Munchkins even if they wear funky clothes and talk funny.

The Woodyettes found their friends during the chorus appearances (Munchkins and Poppies. Oy.), but immersed themselves in the story right away. They both got a kick out of the Wicked Witch of the West, who is really a caricature in this story and much more funny than scary. Jelly had fun watching the Scarecrow. Doodle was more interested in having spotted her friend in the chorus, but watched the show intently nonetheless. Generally perched on my knee for visibility. (No stadium seating in a smallish community forum, y'know.) Mrs. Woody has that wonderful feminine ability to enjoy the show not so much on its merits, but on the earnest efforts of the kids involved.

Woody has a different problem. Having been an actor in community theater for (nearly) forty years now, I can't just sit back and immerse myself in a story. I watch the actors. Even among kids I'm looking for the stand-outs, probably because I was considered one myself. I spotted a few "keep yer eyes on this one" kids in this show that really seem to have a flair for stage work. I hope they pursue it. Chief among them was one thirteenish girl who appeared as one of the "Yellow Brick Road" dancers. These were six girls of varying age who had better-than-average dance skills. This particular girl, though, was not only a good dancer, but had her stage game on. She kept a dazzling smile on her face, and her moves were designed to project the intent of the choreography. Mrs. Woody spotted her as well, and we both agreed that this kid could go far.

Another firecracker was a smallish boy — second or third grade, perhaps — who was cast as the Funky Monkey. This kid came out with some hip-hop moves that were downright impressive, and he was clearly an audience favorite. Being so young his delivery of lines was nowhere near as impressive as his moves, but, hey, the kid is only maybe six or seven years old. Give him time. He has stage presence.

Woody also sympathizes with community productions because there are always things that don't work well. The sets were solid in this show, and the colors reflected the still-psychodelic look of the 70's pretty well. There were, unfortunately, miking problems, particularly for the Tin Man. The Lion had some wardrobe problems, and spent most of the show trying to keep his mane tucked up under his chin so no one would see his neck.

Still, it's fun to watch a bunch of small kids shuffle onto the stage, go through a few simple steps, and wave surreptitiously at Mom and Dad in the audience. It reminds Woody that all the world is, indeed, a stage. If we are merely players, may we all have as much fun as these kids did last night.

Vacation Windows

There is a window, albeit a relatively small one, during which kids seem to blossom into the concept of a family vacation. We're at a point in time where family vacations can be more about the kids and having them relish the experience.

We've just returned from two weeks of fireworks and lighthouses along the Pacific coast. Every other year (give or take) we spend the July 4th holiday with our friends who live in Vancouver, Washington. Vancouver still believes in celebrating the 4th in the traditional way, which means blowing optional body parts to kingdom come. Who needs an old finger, anyway? It works for us, though, because we're the guests. This means we don't have to go out there and risk contact with these IED's in patriotic wrappings. Not unless we really want to. Thus we spent our 4th having (literally) front-row seats for one of the best 4th spectacles you'll ever see. This is primarily because not only were we setting off fireworks in our own cul-de-sac, but we got to watch every other street in Vancouver light off their boomers as well. Had we stopped to listen, we might even have heard the show they have every year at Fort Vancouver. But we couldn't because our hosts like to open their windows and play patriotic CDs (they have a 25-disc player!) as loudly as they can.

But the 4th was only a sliver of our time spent in Vancouver this year. For a whole week we imposed on their hospitality, whilst our girls attended Hogwarts Owl Camp this year. Yes, you heard me. Our goddaughter, who is exactly one year older than our Jelly Woodyette, got to be a "Prefect In Training" (or, as we preferred to call her, a "PIT"), and the Woodyettes were willing camperettes. It involved a lot of work on the part of someone-who-shall-not-be-named-in-this-blog-but-whom-we-call-"neighbor"-just-in-case-my-daughters-are-reading-this-post. Doodle had a pretty good time with the crafts and the games of Field Quidditch, but Jelly had the time of her life. They even had camp tee shirts and vests, complete with badges. Jelly loves any activity where you can completely immerse yourself in some other world, and Hogwarts is one of her favorites. They had enough fun that the Inner Dad didn't even mind those occasions when he was required to assist. I was pretty much the official photographer/videographer for much of the camp, and was also an ad hoc camp counsellor when things like a nature hike were called for. Not a huge problem, though, with a camp of three.

Jelly also loved our lighthouse tour on the way back down the coast. We started at the southern peninsula in Washington and worked our way down through several lighthouses in Oregon, ending our tour with the lighthouse in Crescent City, California. I'm sure Jelly loved looking at the lighthouses themselves, but what she really loved was the opportunity to "hike" out to see them. Most of the lighthouses we saw don't have terribly convenient parking where you can just sit in the car, point, and say, "Ok, kids, that's what a lighthouse looks like." No, most of them require some sort of hike. And Jelly loves hikes.

"Daddy! Can we take this trail?"

[Daddy looks at a dirt path leading into a stand of trees that's probably inhabited with rattlesnakes and gophers the size of HumVees]

"No, Sweetie. Let's stick to this (paved, varmint-proof) trail here."

I am also happy to report that there were only a couple of houses that Mrs. Woody couldn't see on this trip. She's the true lighthouse afficcionado in our family, and the tour was primarily her idea. She knew, having done her research, that some of them just aren't terribly wheelchair accessible, but she wanted us to see them (and, of course, document them) anyway. I compensated somewhat by buying her commemorative spoons of every lighthouse I could find along the way.

We also visited one of our favorite places in Oregon: the Tillamook Cheese factory. Tillamook cheese is famous, and it was one of our stops during our honeymoon eleven years ago. We couldn't wait to return and take our kidlings through the tour (which is, for the record, wheelchair accessible). The kids were appropriately fascinated, right up to the part where Doodle managed to get a big glob of BubbleGum ice cream on her sister's shirt. Fortunately that waited until the tour was over and all we had left was the gift shop.

We also had some time to consider where we might like to retire in a few (hah!) years. In fact, Mrs. Woody and I discussed it so much that Jelly pulled me aside one evening with a worried look on her face. "Daddy? Why are you and Mommy talking about moving?" I hastened to reassure her that Mommy and Daddy are only planning for a kid-free future and realize that we can't afford to live in California on a fixed income. "By the time we're ready to move, Sweetheart," I told her, "you'll be on your own, or may even have your own family. We plan to leave no forwarding address." I didn't really say that last part, but I was thinking it.

So we're home now. Mrs. Woody picked up a nasty infection somewhere along the way and is recovering from that, but we are otherwise glad to be home. It's nice to pick up and leave for awhile, but it's also nice to come home. Home is (for the Woodys, at least) our haven; our refuge from the world. Having been out amongst the world for a couple of weeks, our love for home has simply magnified.

Of course, it's about time now to begin planning our next vacation. We'd better hurry. That window is already closing fast, and our vacations will once again be mostly for Mom and Dad.

Not that we won't enjoy that.

Fish Stories

Every man has them. Tall(ish) tales of fierce combat with unseen enemies, generally of the variety that "got away." I actually have two; one involving a halibut (we think) that was large enough to pull Grandpa's boat before we had to cut the line, and the other involving my having caught a fish large enough to have won the boat pool, had we bothered to join it.

But this is not about fish. This is about the Yahtzee Championship Score of the World That No One Will Ever See.

We have an electronic Yahtzee game. I got it for (I think) a Christmas present many years ago. I got it because Santa (and you know who she is) knows that I am basically just a kid in a nearly fifty-year old body and I love to play with toys. We also have an affinity for certain games that Mrs. Woody and I have played for most of our marriage. Yahtzee is one of them.

If you've ever played the electronic Yahtzee game, you know it has certain advantages over the physical dice game. Every time I play the physical dice game, I get summarily stomped by Mrs. Woody. I mean every stinkin' time. I have no idea what mystical powers she possesses over those dice, but she beats me in at least nine games out of ten. The one game in ten that I actually win is always a squeaker; I may win by five points or less.

But the electronic version rocks. If you have any programming knowledge at all, you know that building a truly random algorithm is nearly impossible. It's always based on some event — usually time — which means that in theory you can actually replicate a so-called "random" pattern that is generated by any computer, no matter how complex. Electronic Yahtzee is not a complex computer. It's one of those things you could probably put together with your average electronics project kits at Radio Shack.

In real Yahtzee, I rarely see scores of over 300. You must get at least one "Yahtzee" (worth 50 points), all of the lower section scores, plus the upper section bonus in order to break 300. In real Yahtzee, "Yahtzees" are hard to come by. Large straights also give me fits, although I can usually score a full house in any game. I run about 50% on upper section bonuses (worth an additional 35 points) for the most part.

Electronic Yahtzee, on the other hand, is much more generous than real life. My little hand-held game resides in our bathreading room, where it gets played several times every day. An average game takes only about as long as our average bathreading room visit, so you can imagine how many games it plays in the course of a year.

Most fun are the games where you score multiple "Yahtzees." Each "Yahtzee" you score after the first one is worth an additional 100 points. And the hand-held version is extremely generous about "Yahtzees." Games with two or even three "Yahtzees" are not uncommon.

The game also holds onto the top score played, although it doesn't tell you who that player happened to be. Not to brag (which is, after all, the whole purpose of a fish story), but I will have you know that for many months now, the high score (belonging, it goes without saying, to yours truly) has been 612. I believe I had no fewer than four "Yahtzees" to capture that score. But it also means something else: it means that Mrs. Woody's personal best of 607 was not enough to unseat me from the champion's podium! Yes! She can whip me all she wants in real Yahtzee, but until this morning I was the undisputed KING of Electronic Yahtzee!

I say "until this morning" because, sadly, Electronic Yahtzee is incredibly cheap and has no flash memory. Thus, when its AAA battery died this morning after more than five years' faithful service, my high score went with it.

So the unofficial battle of Yahtzee Titans will commence again. I've replaced the battery (go DuraCell!), and fully expect Mrs. Woody and I to rub scores in each other's faces for the next several months. It takes time, you know, to build up the high scores until they register in the 500s and 600s as they did before. But I'm confident that they will.

Electronic Yahtzee is like that. Fish-like, if you know what I mean.

Visiting the House of the Mouse

So we checked our timeframe and it turns out that the last time we visited Disneyland was about three and a half years ago. Jelly would have been six-plus and the Doodle would have been nearly four. Three and a half years is a decent interval between D-Land visits because it takes about that long to save up the money required to go. (Of course, we didn't pay to actually get in. What you do, when you live here, is find someone who works there and have them sign you in. My boss's boss [read: wife] met us there with a friend and they did us the honor. But my statement still stands: it takes about that long to save up the money to eat and/or not suffer severe dehydration; not to mention buying of souvenirs without which no trip to the Big D would be complete.)

This also means that our girls are just the right ages now to really capture the wonder of the park. Three years ago our girls were still in their painfully shy modes — both of them — so that meeting the giant Goofy that strolls around ToonTown was a terrifying experience. I think we got Jelly to go up and meet Winnie the Pooh, but she didn't really look happy about it. Doodle was still so young that most of her memories of the park were probably manufactured. All she really knew about it was what she read in books or saw on TV.

With the girls now old enough to really appreciate the experience, we (Mrs. Woody and I) were filled with anticipation of how much fun they would have, and we weren't disappointed. I suppose that even an old jaded guy like Woody can still vicariously enjoy the park through my children. Truth is, Woody spent most of the day from about lunch time in pain. My joints just start protesting after so much walking, and all you do in Disneyland is either walk or inch through many lines. On some rides we got an assist in the form of Mrs. Woody. My sweetheart has mobility challenges in the form of a hereditary arthritis (Thanks, Dad! And Grandpa!) and spent the day in a rather uncomfortable electronic cart. But that cart, if she could handle the ride, moved us right up to the front of the class, so to speak.

Pain aside, just watching the girls have all the fun we used to have when we were kids was well worth the effort. They had a ball. They also [insert parental pride here] overcame some of their fears to go on rides that had terrified the Jelly three years ago. All those themed, indoor rides where the room is dark and they use flourescent paint, strobe lights, and loud noises just scared the poor child to tears on our last trip. But we were determined that she overcome her nerves and try at least one. We rode on Roger Rabbit's ToonTown Spin, and she managed to hold herself together. We did that rather early in the day so we could build her up to a roller-coaster or two.

Specifically we wanted her to experience the bobsleds and Big Thunder Railroad. At this point, however, I must interject that the Doodle was nearly fearless. Mostly because we'd already checked that she was tall enough, she wanted to ride as many rides "by herself" (meaning sitting in a chair without Daddy) as possible. On the bobsleds, however, Doodle rode with Daddy and Jelly — trooper that she was — rode by herself. And she loved it.

All of it, really. Oh, she still wasn't thrilled with Roger Rabbit. That meant we never did get to do Mr. Toad, Peter Pan, or even Snow White. But the girls loved Pirates of the Caribbean, and they even got through the Haunted Mansion. Doodle was less thrilled with the Haunted Mansion, but she got through it without any discernible trauma. They were appropriately giggly about riding on Dumbo, the Tea Cups, and the Astro Orbiter. They enjoyed the Storybook Land boat ride.

I must tell you that Doodle fell asleep in the Enchanted Tiki Room. It enchanted her right into a stupor and before the third song she was slumped at my side. This wasn't all bad, though. We let her nap on Daddy while we all took a sit-down break for about half an hour.

At the end of our very long day, the girls enjoyed some shopping. Mommy parked herself out of traffic and sent us forth to find a few items. She wanted the girls to get t-shirts (matching, of course), have them pick out a souvenir each, and the girls wanted to find a birthday present for Mommy. They were thrilled when Daddy pointed out the Disney-themed scrapbooking punches, and we got her a few of those.

Taken altogether it was a wonderful day. Time, I guess, to start saving money now so we can go again in another three or four years.

Daddy's Clues®

It wasn't that many years ago that the Woodyettes were into Blue's Clues, but big time. They watched every show. They were scandalized when Steve left the show and Joe took over. They were a little bummed that Blue's Room never really went anywhere. They kind of liked the notion that Blue could turn into a puppet and talk.

Mommy and Daddy were fond of the notion that the girls were learning critical thinking skills that they actually applied to everyday life. They loved taking the wind out of our sails whenever Mommy and Daddy would try to talk in code and the girls could actually guess what we were talking about and then giggle uproariously when Mommy and Daddy would look crestfallen and say things like, "You weren't supposed to figure that out!"

So it came as a huge thrill to my daughters (Jelly first) that Daddy one day came up with a game of "Daddy's Clues" for them to play. I'd only done it a few times, primarily because it's actually hard work — coming up with all those clues and stuff. Also, instead of a paw print, I had to draw a little caricature of myself that the girls could easily identify as Daddy's Clues that were then placed strategically around the house. Usually the clues led up to something that Daddy and the girls could do together, such as having a play date at the park.

Of late, the Jelly Woodyette had been sighing wistfully that she really really missed playing Daddy's Clues, followed by more sighs and heavy shoulder lifts. Mrs. Woody, of course, picked up on this line of thought immediately. "Bud," she said. "The girls really really miss playing Daddy's Clues."

Yeah, Honey, I heard that.

"Really, really, really," she emphasized.

Oh, um, of course. Guess I'd better do something about that.

Then a golden opportunity presented itself that was just too good to pass up. May is a busy month for the Woodys. We have Mothers Day, of course. But this is followed in short order by our wedding anniversary and (a few SHORT days later) the anniversary of Mrs. Woody's natal day. ("Daddy? What's a 'natal?'" "Dunno, Honey... I think it's some sort of military organization in Europe somewhere.")

Anyway, I thought it might be really fun to take the family someplace that Mrs. Woody and I had been discussing to celebrate her birthday, and for which the Woodyettes are just about the perfect age now. Plus, I could make up a Daddy's Clues game to make them guess where we were going.

So, yesterday after work I took our incredibly cheap video cam (one of those $100 all-in-one jobs that takes grainy, out of synch video, crummy photos, and tinny-sounding audio) into our bathroom, which is the only room in the house where I can expect a modicum of privacy. I donned my shades and goofy-looking retired fogey hat and turned myself into the geek equivalent of Q. I shot five short videos which I then burned onto separate DVDs. The first one was addressed to "Special Agents Jelly & Doodle."

Mrs. Woody watched me put all this together and started getting excited in anticipation of how much fun the girls would have.

The idea was to record four hints that would each solve to part of the name of our intended destination. Most of them I just made up (although I did write a brief script for my videos... I didn't trust myself to be completely extemporaneous), but I did borrow one directly from "Harry Potter," just for effect. I even sang a Primary song with an incorrect word that the girls were instructed to correct. The videos also gave hints as to where the next clue was hidden. In other words, as Mrs. Woody put it later, "Daddy's Clues, ver. 2.0."

The girls loved it. As soon as they saw the first DVD they began jumping up and down. In fact, they had so much fun watching the videos, they had a hard time paying attention to the actual clues. Fortunately, DVDs can be rewound and played over, and that's exactly what we had to do — several times, in some cases — for each clue. Then they would race, excited, to the site of the clue and look for the next installment.

It turned out that the girls both found and solved equal numbers of clues and hiding places. Doodle imploded a bit when it came time to rearrange the solved pieces of the word, but Jelly got it right away. We finally coaxed Doodle through the solving process, and then watched her little jaw drop as she realized that in a few SHORT days, we will be taking Mommy to Disneyland™®©. [Begin endless looping of "When You Wish Upon a Star" in your brain now]

Mommy had me document the entire process with our much-better-near-professional-quality camera, and the girls had a tremendous time. So did Mommy and Daddy, come to that.

I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time later this coming week, too.

#166 - Potter-mania

I'm nearly 50 years old. I shouldn't be getting this excited about a movie coming out. However...

I can't wait for Harry Potter 5.

It's interesting to me that I've gotten so into this whole Harry Potter thing. Ironically, the only reason I even checked into the books these many years ago was all the fuss being made by certain factions over the allegedly evil purposes of the series. J. K. Rowling, they said, was poisoning the minds of impressionable youngsters by introducing them into a world of witchcraft with decidedly pagan overtones.

Such reactions always stimulate my curiosity. Mrs. Woody and I hadn't been married very long when we first checked into the books. "Sorcerer's Stone" had been out for awhile by that time, and I believe "Chamber of Secrets" had just come out when Mrs. Woody first decided to read the books. She was suitably impressed enough to get me interested in giving them a read as well.

We were hooked.

Since that time we have breathlessly awaited each new volume. You can imagine that we are now sitting on tenterhooks waiting for the final volume in this magical world to be revealed this summer. Like countless others, we have pre-ordered Book 7 ("The Deathly Hallows." Oooh.) and can't wait to see what Rowling does with this larger-than-life hero she's created. Disappointment, for some, is inevitable, but I really want to understand what Rowling envisions as the crowning moment of this series.

It doesn't help that the extended trailer for the new movie is out now.

Mrs. Woody discovered it the other day. She let me know during my lunch-time check-in call that she and the Woodyettes had already enjoyed it three times together. Since I've been in team meetings all week, I wasn't able to see it myself until that evening.

(I should note here that the Woodyettes — particularly the older one — have requested that, perhaps, Mommy and Daddy should see the movie before they do. Just, you know, in case.)

Now I really can't wait.

This promises to be a banner summer, book-wise. With the release of the new movie coming about a week ahead of the last book in the series, we'll be on Harry Potter overload for weeks. Our tradition — even though it takes much longer — is to read the book aloud as a family. Daddy does all his best character voices, and we will read to the exclusion of nearly all other activities during that time. Certainly TV will bite the dust since all we'll have will be reruns by that time.

Then we'll breathlessly await the arrival of each new movie so we can lose ourselves in this wonderful fantasy world that Rowling has so lovingly created for us.

Long live (??) Harry Potter.