Assorted Creams and Caramels

Confidential to the neighborhood kids:  Please stop doing stupid things in an attempt to use our yard as a cut-through.  I would hate to have to go have a talk with your mother, but I'm willing to put aside my innate hatred of confrontation if it means you not breaking your neck on my property.


I don't much care for Ohio, and and of itself, but Columbus has the benefit of being home to Schmidt's.  Home of the Half Pound Cream Puff.  I brought two of them to the office last week, and brought home sausage for us.  I beer braised it last night, and it was quite delicious.  That said, I should have done red cabbage - I prefer it to kraut.  But, the sausage?  Perfection.  I'm going back to the area in a week, but I probably won't encore it.  Nobody needs that much sausage.

To be equally fair, nobody needs that much Ohio.  My next two stops thereafter are Oklahoma and Washington. 

I'm starting to feel a little panicky because July 4th will be here in no time, and I have a lot to do between now and then.

See also: August 20th. My 10th Wedding Anniversary.

And I also need to start planning the Annual Family Baseball gathering...

And, and, and, and...

This weekend, a wedding.  And a party.

And then travel, and travel, and travel, and...

OK.  I'm fine.

Oh - here's something interesting - This American Life this week was titled "The Birds and the Bees" and covered all the difficult talks parents have with their kids.  Kamau Bell talked about discussing racism with his kids.  And the last segment was about a place in Salt Lake City where children can go to grieve:

http://www.thesharingplace.org/

They have a space called The Volcano - completely padded and filled with yoga balls where kids can get angry and throw things and just let it out.

I strongly, strongly recommend listening to the segment:

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/557/birds-bees?act=3#play

I now want to send these people a fat check.  So much of what they said about how kids grieve really resonated with me.  There was a girl, about nine years old, who talked about how she didn't feel like she could let her feelings out, and how it physically hurt.  The interviewer asked what she meant and I thought, "It's a pain in your throat."  And the little girl said the same thing.

Basically, I need to built my own Volcano.

Freaking brilliant.

ae

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