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Our Big Tour of the South started out on July 3. The dates we could be gone were strictly dictated by a fancy choir that India is in this summer. She was allowed to miss no more than three rehearsals or she would be sacked. So we had to be very selective about where we went and what we saw. Starting out on this trip, I wanted to make sure we saw as many states as possible; my kids have seen very little of this country due to the fact that we go to the same places again and again, as dictated by where our extended family lives (Utah, Arizona and Oregon. Rinse and repeat).

Our first destination was North Carolina. We zipped through Arkansas and Tennesee on the way. Arkansas was flat and looked pretty much like Texas. (The town of Texarkana is pretty scuzzy, by the way. In case you wanted to form a mental picture.)

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My kids had to endure me singing “The Arkansas Traveler” about a hundred times. In particular every time we’d pass by a broken down shack. (You may think you don’t know this song but I promise you’ve hear the tune before; just click to listen.)

Arkansas Traveler

My grandparents lived in an adorable, quaint little town called Tryon. It is in the very hilly part of western North Carolina that skirts the border of South Carolina. Growing up it was my happy place. My grandparents loved antiques and had a couple of shops that I would spend as much time in as possible. They were filled to the rafters of interesting odds and ends. Even as a little child I used to wonder how many hands had opened the same dresser drawers that I was now opening.  Their house was almost as fun, being filled not only with interesting antiques, but closets bursting with old dresses and fur coats, drawers stacked with black and white pictures, perfume bottles and dainty white gloves. The musty rich smell of old things still makes me feel happiness and serenity.

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The strangest thing is that their town is not the same. Everything looks very much the same; even the sweet little hardware store downtown has stayed put. There is still a giant toy horse in the middle of downtown (it’s the town mascot). There are new coffee shops and boutiques in the old buildings where ladies clothing stores used to be, but for the most part it’s eerily similar to the way I remember it. But it just doesn’t feel the same. You know what I mean? It’s like listening to music that you haven’t heard in twenty years. The music might be the same but your life is completely different and that changes everything. My grandparents are gone and so is my reason for being there. They were quite old when they died and their friends have all passed on. I doubt anyone remembers them. Their antique shops are now other stores. We drove past their old houses which now seem impossibly small. It was nice to be there but I felt a melancholy and homesickness for a place in the past that is impossible to travel to.

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Tryon is still outlandishly lush and green, and is parked on the side of the poetically named Hogback Mountain. This is the street where my grandparents lived the longest. My kids all swear they want to live in North Carolina when they grow up.

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We showed up on the Fourth of July. Not only was everything closed up tight, including the pizza joint where I had planned on eating dinner, it was raining crazy cats and dogs (much worse than regular cats and dogs). My plan before I left Texas was to buy some flowers and visit my grandparents’ graves, have some dinner in town and find a local firework show. When we actually arrived in Tryon I forgot which church their ashes were at (Methodist? Presbyterian?), there are only local mom and pop stores and nobody selling flowers was open on a holiday, and all the fireworks were rained out.

I haven’t been to Tryon since my grandmother’s funeral over a decade ago and I don’t anticipate I’ll get back there in a very long time, so I was determined to show the kids their grandparents graves (they were cremated so their graves are quite small and consist mostly of a small metal plaque in a church garden).  We drove for twenty minutes until we found a grocery store that was open and I could buy some flowers, then we drove 20 minutes back to town. We spent the next hour searching for the right church (it was the fourth one on my list of possibilities). The rain let up when we got there, however the kids were stir crazy and acted like spazoids and generally it was nothing like the scenario I had imagined.

At this point let’s address the obvious: travelling nonstop in a car full of six children can be a bit . . . trying. I’m naturally a very patient person, but this pushed me to the limits. In some ways being without a husband can be nice–having a husband is sometimes like having another child (“what, you’re going to start complaining too???”), but on a car trip another adult is really nice to deflect the quarelling and squabbles. After twenty hours of being trapped with each other we were all rather testy. I completely lost it in The Pizza Hut parking lot (yes, Pizza Hut was the only restaurant we could find that was open) and uttered several choice words that may or may not have included the phrase “can’t you all just shut up for five minutes before I go insane?”. The guy in the car next to us with his window rolled down was probably a little worried for us, but he looked pretty redneck and I’m sure he’s seen worse things that that at the trailer park.

The next morning, we set out to to hike up the waterfall we used to visit when I was a child and my grandparents had gotten sick of us. We hadn’t brought any crappy shoes that I felt OK about ruining so we stopped and bought everyone a new pair at Dollar General ($6 each! Bargain!). In case you’ve never been to a small town, Dollar General is the closest you’ll get to one-stop shopping. It’s like a tiny WalMart, but grosser–if you can imagine such a thing.

Because the rain had been so bad the waterfall was closed. I was determined to show my kids how beautiful Pearson’s Falls is, and I found a spot where the barbed wire wasn’t attached to a pole. Wouldn’t you know it, my kids all refused to sneak in. Even after I explained that we totally had the right to go inside because how can anyone even own a waterfall, much less tell other people when they can and can’t see it? It’s nature, man!  But my kids were being all prissy and refused. I told them they were lame and that sneaking through barbed wire is exhilarating.

So we piled back in Betsy and headed off to Chimney Rock instead. Have you ever seen Last of the Mohicans? Chimney Rock is where the little sister throws herself off of at the very end. They even have one of Daniel Day-Lewis’ costumes from the movie on display. It’s a stunning place. I remember going there as a little girl and all I recall is one thing: fright. I have always been deathly afraid of heights. But as I am a grown-up now, things would be different.

The road was windy and I had to give several kids dramamine, but it didn’t take us much more than an hour to get there. Chimney rock is right in the middle of a very touristy little village. The kids wanted to stop and buy tacky crap as they always do, but I wanted to get started before it either 1) started raining again–or heaven forbid– 2) got sunny and hot.

So here’s how Chimney Rock works: you drive through the  little village of Chimney Rock to the entrance of the park. Then you drive up a super curvy little road for a couple of miles til you get to the ticket window. You buy your tickets, drive even higher on the road until you get to a parking lot. Then you park and have this view right in front of you. That lake down below is Lake Lure, where they filmed Dirty Dancing. Not a huge fan of Dirty Dancing, but maybe you are and might care.

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After you oooh and aaah, you walk into a cave and take an elevator 27 stories up through the middle of pure rock. Then you come out of the elevator into a gift shop and snack bar. You exit the snack bar onto a deck and immediately have a coronary because OHMYGOSH-it’s-so-high-up-and-what-was-I-thinking-I’m-still-totally-scared-of-heights. I almost fainted as my kids skipped off to hang over the railing completely unaware that the railing would most likely break at any second and they would plunge to their deaths. I was pretty much paralyzed with fright. Seriously, what was I thinking? There’s a rickety wooden bridge where you can climb up to this thing:



The kids all climbed it but I stayed put. Lame. I was completely lame. But even the thought of going near the edge made my pulse speed up, my face sweat and my head start spinning. I just sat there praying that my kids wouldn’t die. Nobody died and then we went to wait in line for the elevator back down. Of course the elevator broke just as it was our turn. But don’t worry because there are stairs down to the bottom! Stairs barely clinging to the sheer rock face. My passel of mountain goats skipped happily down all 27 flights while I slowly trudged down, holding onto the railing with a death grip, never looking anywhere but at my feet. The strangest thing about being in a situation where I’m up high is the worry (mostly unreasonable, but you never know) that I will suddenly go insane and fling myself over the edge. This is so preposterous, but it runs though my mind the entire time.

Besides almost having a heart attack from fright, the worst thing about having to march down a thousand steps is that my calf muscles hurt so badly over the next three days that I could barely walk. Apparently I need to walk backwards on the stair-stepper at the gym sometimes too.

I’m back from our Grand Tour of the South. First things first: I managed to kill my laptop while I was travelling. So I am wearing black in mourning from destroying yet another computer. I’m beginning to thing I am made of magnets. How else to explain the destruction I bring upon all computers I touch? Mister tried all his tricks and my laptop (which I just got six months ago) is DEAD. I’m just praying that I didn’t kill the hard drive of my computer because you know I didn’t back up anything.  Who backs up stuff on a new computer that is working perfectly? Anyway, I’m back to using the kids’ computer. What a drag.

It’s going to take me a while to give you the details of our trip, but in a nutshell it was excellent. We spent two weeks travelling around in Betsy–my trusty Honda Odyssey who behaved perfectly–and seeing most of the South. We covered over 4000 miles. Because I like to kind of plan as I go and because I didn’t have access to a real computer most of the time, we didn’t see as much as I would have liked to. Planning a trip on an iphone is not the easiest thing to do. I’m sure some of you are pooh-poohing and thinking how if I’d planned everything meticulously before I went then I wouldn’t have been up a creek. But I do hate how planning excessively makes me feel very trapped and incredibly frustrated when the plans change. When there are six kids involved, plans most certainly do change.

But we hit all the high points. And saw lots of stuff.
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We ended up travelling through Arkansas, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana. I wish we could have spent several days in each place but, alas, our budget conspired against us. Plus we had to work around various kid activities so our scheduled departure and arrival times were completely inflexible.

As we drove across the Mississippi River (the first time) I realized that except for a couple of trips to DisneyWorld my kids had never been to the Eastern U.S. We have become Westerners. I was happy that I finally had the opportunity to show them this wonderful (and might I say it, best) part of America. (OK, slight correction: we took India to North Carolina when she was a baby to visit my Grandmother.)

Here are the most important things that I realized driving around on the trip:

1. I totally love to drive. Seriously love it. Except for a couple of hours when I turned the wheel over to India, I did all the driving. I love to look out the window, listen to music, eat junk food and hang out with my kids. This is the perfect marriage of all four things. I like the quickness of airplanes, but my heart belongs in a car. (That’s what happens when you’re born in Detroit, I guess.)

2. I really, really miss hills and trees. I’ve spent many years living in places that either don’t have a ton of greenery or are very flat (Utah has obnoxious mountains but most of it is flat as can be. I’m more of a rolling hill kind of person). I had forgotten how beautiful greenery can be. I was constantly trying to take pictures from my moving car because I simply could not get over how gorgeous the scenery was. Especially in North Carolina and Virginia. I won’t lie, I was looking at Zillow a lot.

3. Books on CD are worth their weight in gold. We got through four Harry Potter books on our drive. We might have killed each other if not for JK Rowling and Jim Dale.

4, Being a single parent is a drag. With six kids I can’t exactly say I was lonely, but I missed having someone to discuss everything with. Also, someone to take the reins when I was done. Instead I lost my temper a few times. But there are pros to be a single parent too; namely one less opinion to consider. We were all pretty thrilled to see Mister when we got back to Texas.


I’ll have more details to give you later, but I wanted to check in and say hi first. Hi!


P.S. Mister just came in and told me that the hard drive on my computer is fried. Crap! crap, crap, crap.



Since our car trip to Arizona in March was such a roaring success (meaning nobody killed anyone else and I only had to scream at the kids to shut up a dozen times), I decided that we shall take another car trip. Mister will hold down the fort while I travel with all six children in a shoebox minivan all over the South. My hatred of planning things in advance is fighting madly with my fear of getting lost, and I have developed only the loosest skeleton of a plan for the next two weeks.

First off let me say that I love the South. It’s my favorite. There’s a constant debate over whether Texas is the South (I think that Austin technically isn’t–it’s got way more of a Western vibe–but people say “yes, ma’am” so it’s close enough.)  If I had piles of money I would spend the entire rest of the summer exploring the nooks and crannies around that South. But I don’t. So instead I will go and freeload on all my friends in that part of the country.

We’ll stay with some old friends of ours who used to live near us in Utah but now have a farm in North Carolina with a dozen yaks and a hundred chickens. I know. I’m so excited. Visiting someone else’s farm is even better than having your own.

At some point we’ll also stop by Tryon, the town in North Carolina where my grandparents lived. It’s probably my favorite place on earth. I haven’t been back there in 14 years since my grandma died and I’m sure lots has changed and it will make me horribly sad. The bad thing about Tryon is that it’s in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere. Seriously. But I won’t have a husband telling me what a waste of gas every little detour will be.

I’m purposely not telling him our agenda and he’s purposely not asking. Also, I don’t actually know what our agenda is.

I do know that we will be stopping in Washington DC, Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia (I need to spend some time with my BFF Tiffany), Alabama, Mississisppi, and Louisiana.  I feel like I need to paint a confederate flag onto my car à la the Dukes of Hazzard.

I’m pretty excited. There is such a sense of history that you just don’t get anywhere else in our country. Well, there sort of is in New England, but the South is just  . . . what’s the word? Better.


Mister finally bought a Prius after thinking about it for about five years. Now he needs a new license plate. Here in Texas we have about a jillion different plate designs and I had fun looking for one. I also found out that the name Hildie is available! I should totally get a personalized plate, shouldn’t I? They’re $150 per year so I doubt I will, but I had fun trying out some designs. This one is my favorite. I do love a good cheeseburger.


Mister is a big Dr. Pepper fan. Me, notsomuch but this would certainly be a unique plate. In case you’re thinking that it’s a totally random license plate design, Dr. Pepper was invented in Waco, TX.


Of course, Texans love Jesus too. You’d better be a nice driver if you commit to this license plate. If you feel like your Jesus fish on the back of your car isn’t hardcore enough, consider this one.(Or you could just let your kind Christian behavior speak for itself.)


Say you’re really into NASCAR. Texas has not one, not two, but four NASCAR designs.  Why does that not surprise me.


And let’s not forget the hunters. If you are super into killing wild Turkeys, now you can inform everyone behind you at the stoplight. You wouldn’t want people to think you kill deer or boar or something. Make sure you let everyone know that shooting turkeys is where it’s at. And you don’t kill those tame turkeys either; only crazy wild ones. Hey, there’s is an actual federation dedicated to them! I’ll bet those are some rootin-tootin conventions.


This one just plain confused me. BYU is in Utah. But I can have a Texas plate with a Utah school on it? That’s like ordering a Steak Gordita at McDonalds. Weird.


If you have a tribal tattoo you’d probably like this plate as well. That way people know you’re a badass even though you’re driving a Corolla.


This design is my favorite but I have to say I was a little disconcerted with the way they split up my name:


Suddenly Texas is telling me they want me dead? Although I have to say I love the tagline, “Texas 4 Ever”. Did you guys watch Friday Night Lights? Did you see the show’s finale when Tim is looking over his property and says, “Texas Forever”, just like in the very first episode? Man, I was doing the ugly cry. Texas forever, indeed.

Our Spring Break is officially underway! York is at track practice and India’s taking the SAT but soon all the kids will be FREE! For the first time ever we will actually be going somewhere over Spring Break. Just to Grandma and Grandpa’s vacation house in Arizona, so it’s not terribly fancy. The grandparents won’t be there so it’s just us. Well, Mister can’t get away from work so by “us” I mean “the kids and I”. And India’s friend, Summer. She only has one sibling so her head might just explode after spending the week amidst our noisy chaos. (Mister’s brother and his wife will be showing up at some point too, with a bunch of their friends.)

Oh yeah, I should also mention that we will be driving. We never drive anywhere. We do little day trips all the time but as for driving more than three hours in a row? Hasn’t happened since we moved to Texas, lo these many years ago. I’m a little nervous but I think we have enough ipads and electronic gadgets to make sure that there is as little interpersonal involvement as possible.

The temperatures look great next week so my days will consist of sleeping in, lying by the pool (in the shade! Don’t want to lose that vampirish pallor), taking naps and watching lots of TV (There is cable! Such a luxury for us!). I might cook some food. Or we might just eat quite a lot of cereal.

Right now I’m hollering at the kids to keep cleaning out the car. One is Windexing the inside of the windows, one is vaccuming, and one is on petrified-chicken-nugget patrol. I suppose I should think about packing. What am I talking about? I’ve got two new pairs of yoga pants and my bathing suit. I’m totally set!

Snacks for the drive are already parceled out. Yes, I do this myself rather than buying prepackaged snack-sized stuff; What do you think I am, made of money? Pretty much everything is totally sugar-y. I’m quite a mastermind and have decided to pump the kids full of sugar while keeping them confined to an incredibly small space in close proximity to the people they fight with the most in the entire world. Brilliant plan, no? Wish us all well!


Mister owns a truck. It’s not the hugest truck but it’s big. Big trucks are fine for the country or even the suburbs but notsogreat in downtown areas. He’s cursed it when he’s worked downtown because it’s rather like being an elephant in a movie theatre. It’s simply too big. Parking is a nightmare and driving on skinny one-way streets is almost as bad.

Mister found out that his company will be relocating from just-outside-downtown Austin (where parking and traffic are reasonable) to downtown Austin in the next couple of months. The time has come, we have decided, to move away from a truck and onto something more manageable.

While he doesn’t want something small (he carries equipment pretty often due to his job as a video producer), he does want something with good gas mileage. And it has to be reliable.

Mister has been wanting a Prius since they first came out and has taken me to test drive them probably a dozen times (all I really care about are cupholders and how easy it is to listen to my songs). But last week we went to test drive a Prius–again–and I told him I wanted to drive it. While Mister and the lady selling the car were talking, I took the key and tried to start the car; “tried” to start the car. These newfangled cars!  They’ve changed a lot! (Obviously we haven’t bought a new car in ages).

Now you don’t even need a key for the ignition. You just press a button. That seems utterly crazy to me but I guess that’s how it’s done these days. I tried and tried to start the stupid Prius. I could not get it to drive. I could start it but not get it to go into “D”. After then tenth time of turning it off and then on again, I got out of the car in a huff. As usual, it turns out I am just dense when it comes to all things technical. Nobody mentioned you have to press the brake before you even start the car! Picky, picky!

Here’s a weird thing about driving a hybrid car: every time you come to a stoplight or slow down to make a turn, the car engine turns off and the battery turns on. Meaning the car goes from sounding like a normal car to sounding like nothing. In other words, I kept thinking that the car had just died. I grew up driving absolute crap cars that regularly died at intersections. I suppose I have some sort of residual Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder regarding this. After the fourth time the Prius went quiet at an intersection I gave up. I was sweating and panicky and I made Mister drive the rest of the time. I like my cars quiet all the time or noisy all the time. None of this half and half business.

The lady showing us the car mentioned that Prius drivers are 35% more likely to get tickets and break the speed limits than other drivers. She wasn’t sure why. I think it’s because there are too many air bags and seat belts. I think if there were a giant dagger in the middle of everyone’s steering wheels that we’d all be much more cautious drivers. Instead we have these airbags and sensors that make us feel all cuddly and safe inside our cars. We need something to make us feel edgy and unsafe all the time. That’s how to improve people’s driving.

Perhaps I’ll jot a note:

Dear Toyota,

Please make your cars noisier, more unsafe and more understandable for technologically idiotic people.

Thanks in advance,

J. Hildegard

stretch prius

Awww, look at India with her new car. “New” car, I should say. It’s a Toyota Corolla that is ten years old but does not have a dent or ding anywhere.

India Car

She has had it for not quite two weeks.

Let me digress right here to tell you about my greatest weakness in life: the inability to look before I back up a car (Second weakness: hatred of laundry). I even have a camera on the back of my minivan that (supposedly) shows me what is behind me. But when I start my car I have to wait a whole twenty seconds for it to start working. Twenty seconds! Pssht, who has that kind of time??? And I then I actually have to look at it. So unreasonable!

I try to make myself not back up until the camera turns on but yesterday I had a Relief Society “emergency” (one of our very sick sisters needed a Coke. Now that’s the kind of service I can get behind!)  So I hopped in my minivan without realizing that Mister had parked India’s car behind me in the driveway (in my defense, I did look out the back window but the car was too short to see). So really it was only 90% my fault.

And now India’s bumper looks like this:


India cried. Mister is still fuming. I, of course, feel awful. I hear all these dreadful stories about people backing up over children. It is only by the grace of God that has never happened. I will let this be a warning to me. You have my solemn promise that I will always look before backing up AND wait for my camera to turn on.

Not that any of this matters to my car. Betsy wears her battle scars proudly. I have never bothered getting any dents fixed because it’s only a matter of time before something else meets with my bumper.

dented car

Today is How-To Tuesday. And all my photographs for tutorials are stuck on my hard drive. The hard drive that is having an existential crisis and simply won’t start because even though it’s less than a year old, what’s the point. What is the point of it all? That’s what I imagine my hard drive is saying because why else would it not behave itself? It could also be evil. That’s another possibility.

We have been an Apple computer family since way back in the early 90s. Way before ipods or even those really brightly colored Macs. Mister liked Apple products so much he would go to MacWorld every year and wait excitedly to hear Steve Jobs (We shall not remark on the nerdiness or non-nerdiness of my husband). Eventually he started his own Mac store. And then a second one. (Those were the good old days. We always had new computers.) But he has since sold both stores. And so now I have my Macbook Air which is almost four years old. And it’s kind of a lemon.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am extremely hard on my computers. My computers have always taken a beating. But this MacBook Air has had more than its share of problems (you will recall this post where I personally replaced the speaker wiring a few months ago. Yet another repair!) But I got it the first year it came out and that’s always an issue with any product; it takes a while to get the kinks out.

The first year we were married we got a brand new VW Passat. I was so excited, having never gotten a brand new car in my entire life. Unfortunately it was the first year the Passat was being made and there were issues: the windows would spontaneously roll down on their own, it would stall as we were driving, and their air conditioning was seriously messed up. It was terrible and I swore I would never again get a car in the first year of production. And I never have.

Now I’m having that realization about computers too. And I had to remind Mister about our bad luck when he was making me watch the entire multi-hour announcement about the new Macs and drooling all over the place (Ok, they’re super thin. I get it).

I’ve given my computer several days to get itself together and have an attitude adjustment. (That and Mister has finally taken pity on me trying to write blog posts on my phone.) We shall attempt to fix my laptop again today. Please keep us in your prayers.

I have been neglecting this blog very sorely. Part of it is general summer laziness; the fact that our schedule is rather–how shall I put it–fluid. I do the minimum amount of everything needed. The least amount of cooking, the least amount of cleaning, and the least amount of blogging. It’s nothing personal; just a lack of mojo.

Not helping the situation has been my computer which has been so naughty and disfunctional, but seems to be liking me once again. Sort of.

I’ve been doing some odds and ends around the house. Not cleaning or anything. Just crafty-type things (I haven’t been entirely useless. Just mostly useless). Nothing is as satisfying and therapeutic as making stuff. (Eating is a close second but there is nothing to show for that but an empty Oreos package and fat thighs.)


Mister has very sensitive skin so I make most of our soap. Our bathroom is black, white and green so I thought making some matching soaps would be in order.

I tried two very different designs. The one on the left is a shea butter & babassu soap that has more of a funky, rustic vibe. For the life of me I can’t remember what I scented it with, but it smells fantastic. Hopefully it will be really moisturizing. I tried a new recipe but it won’t be cured for another month. I’ll let you know.

The soap on the right is glycerine and is very pretty and tailored-looking. I scented it with Vera Wang which is my favorite perfume these days. Mister probably doesn’t want to smell like Vera Wang, but I guess he’ll have to make his own soap.


Did your mom have one of these pincushions? I use one when I sew because it’s so convenient, but this stupid thing is always falling off and the chintzy plastic band is really itchy.


So I made an adorable wrist pincushion out of felt. I got the pattern (free!) from Heather Bailey, although I tweaked it a bit. I buy my felt online from Giant Dwarf on Etsy. Her prices are excellent (don’t use that vile stuff from the craft store. Please). My pincushion is super comfy but most importantly it’s cute!


Also going on recently was the adult Pinewood Derby at church. Most of the couples did a car together but Mister wanted no part of my design. Wonder why?


Tacky? Check. Girly? Double check.

My car is called “Put A Bird On It”. Which is named after the funny skit on Portlandia (I’ll link to it down below). I must say “put a bird on it” at least once a day.

Mister made his car out of a slab of chocolate-chip cookie.


There are no holds barred at the Derby and people (men!) were adding tons of weight to the cars in between races to make them go faster. Since we didn’t think to bring pocketfulls of lead, Mister was left to improvise. Watermelon seemed like a nice, heavy choice.


His car came in dead last, but it got the biggest laugh, which as everyone knows is more important than winning. Put a Bird On It came in second to last. But it was by far the prettiest Pinewood Derby car to ever grace the church gym.

Today is Earth Day. I happen to think Earth Day is pretty ridiculous. I think there is too much pollution and too much waste, but having a DAY where those ideas are forced down our throats?  To me it’s like Wal-Mart carrying organic food. All I can say is, “give me a break!”  Mostly just because people seem so misguided about saving the Earth. Don’t get me wrong, I actually bring reusable shopping bags to the store, recycle and turn off the faucet while I’m brushing my teeth. But I think a lot of people are just missing the boat when it comes to Saving the Earth.

Here is a really cool example of thinking outside the box to make this world a better place. It’s four minutes long but when you finish watching it I promise you will say, “wow!”.  Plus it’s Earth Day, duh. So consider this a big green hug for your planet.