"George Washington CD"

On March 29th, Swarr Family, Inc. took a little trip. Now if you ask anyone of the adults that went on this trip (and I use that term loosely), we'd say that we went to Washington DC. However, if you were to ask the youngest of our clan where we went, he would tell you we went to George Washington CD...

It was a nice, low budget, weekend trip that I had planned a few weeks ago. It ended up being a good little getaway. We drove down Saturday morning and dumped our bags at our hotel, then we took the Metro to The National Zoo. That night we ended up searching for a place to eat and we ended up at The Elephant and Barrel. I must say that Maribeth and I (and Declan) had a fantastic meal. I say this truthfully: This was one of the best meals that I had in years. Fish and Chips (mine had salt and vinegar), steak crostini and a Guinness.

Day 2 took us to the National Mall. We went to the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum and then to the World War II Monument and on the way back to the car, we swung by the Washington Memorial (I might add that for some reason, Declan think that George Washington died in it...).

So now that you got the short and sweet, here are the pictures. Enjoy!

Here's little man on the Metro. He was trying to take it all in.

After a little walk , we arrived at the National Zoo...we never saw a Sloth Bear though...
Awesome cheetahs. Their area was right next to the zebra cages...

peeking Gazelle...

The ever so boring Emu
This is a wolf...not a fox. And its pee is stinky
hungry hungry panda
and after it eats, of course
WE FOUND UNCLE GABE ON A PIECE OF TRASH!!!
sleepy pygmy hippo
The world's largest rodent species. Here you go mom. A Capybara.
a normal size hippo...these things are huuuge! ...and lazy.
A wild horse that only Maribeth can say the name of.
Ask Declan to stand like a meerkat the next time you see him. It's cute. Cuter than this thing anyway.weird monkey.
Self explanatory. click the arrow in the middle if you don't get it.



Rikki Tikki Tavi...er, um. I mean...a mongoose.
Gorilla...and that's a tree trunk next to it, not a giant stone boob.Tiger #1. Sorta scary.
Tiger #2...SUPER SCARY!!
Mommy and Mr. McGoofysmile.
Daddy and Mr. McNotpayattention.
This was cool. They tied 1/2 a head of lettuce to a hunk of driftwood and dropped it in...eat up, guys.
close up.
He didn't move at all. Declan didn't believe me that it was real...even when it did open its eye.Relaxing with some toons after a long day at the Zoo.

Day number 2 takes us to the Smithsonian (here's the castle).
...and here's the Natural History Museum.

After the long track across the mall and up the steps with a stroller (only to find we can't take our drinks inside), Declan and I "cheers" to a good time.

The elephant.
If you look hard, you can see the T-Rex skeleton.
A Pterodactyl. Declan even knows what it's called. Good job, buddy.
Monkey skeleton. pretty cool, eh? Yeah? well...scroll down.
These next 3 pics are ancient sloths. They are about 8-10 feet tall (or more when standing upright) ...awesome!

Mr. Sabretooth.
Giant not-so-woolly-anymore, woolly mammoth.
Ok...minus my brother, this caveman family actually looks just like my family in the 1980s...armpit hair and all.
He's NEVER gonna eat again.Ok then it was off to the Word War II memorial. Absolutely breathtaking. There were three 'towers' like this which represented the 3 major theaters of the war.
Each of the smaller towers represented the 50 states.


Each of these stars represent 100 Americans who died in World War II. In case you can't count them all, there are 4,048 stars.
On the way to the Washington Monument, Declan fed this duck pretzels. Yay!
Then it was on to the Washington Monument...
And the biggest Declan in the world!

Be vewy vewy qwiet...

Easter 2008. The morning was great. So was church. We had a fantastic Easter dinner which is still hindering me from ever eating again due to the sheer magnitude of food I packet into my gullet. And I will say again, great job Maribeth. The bread was fantastic.


Then it was time for the third and largest Easter egg hunt of the day. At the Swarr de la Senior household, egg hunts are do or die. Good thing for lil man I'm not allowed on the hunting grounds anymore or there'd be elbows and tears abound. But we're training him up real good. Starting out with an empty basket, the lil man does not look too happy...

Then he finds a few and things are looking a little more promising...maybe around this tree.

They're supposed to be around here somewhere...maybe by the shed. Or down this way...ooo look!

To the victor go the spoils...


And a huge sense of satisfaction.

Challah Back Youngin'

I am writing this on the eve of Easter Sunday 2008. This Easter is not very different than all of the other Easter's here at Casa de Swarr. The only thing that really prompted me to write this boils down to the fact that we are going over to Maribeth's sisters to have Easter lunch with her and her husband. Again, not very different...getting together with family for Easter. And (big surprise here) we are taking something to contribute to the oh so wonderful event of holiday, mealtime overindulgence. We were asked to take bread. Again, no biggie. However...

Yesterday Maribeth and I were discussing what we wanted to take and we decided to bake bread from scratch. Scratch meaning yeast, flour, etc... OK, in case you don't know, I love being in the kitchen. However I really love baking. Especially bread. So when Maribeth actually got excited about making bread from scratch, I was excited too. I love when she takes on new things. Especially something I enjoy doing or at least something she can do and I can vicariously get excited through her. It's great.

So there we were, looking through the bread book (aka, my second Bible) and we found a recipe for Challah. I will use this time to point out the absolute irony of making a Jewish bread for an Easter Sunday meal and taking the time and making it on the Sabbath. I'm sure that if my mother was Jewish, I would never hear the end of it...ever.

So the time came and Maribeth started mixing all the ingredients. I was sleeping on the couch, I think, so she was actually having to reference the book for explanations of terms and techniques instead of asking me (which is probably a good thing because I have a habit of teaching by doing, not just telling...and that would have led to me just doing it myself).

So the recipe proceeded according to plan and I must say that Maribeth did an outstanding job mixing and kneading the dough. Then it came time for her to put lil man down (aka bedtime) and I had the task of beautifying the loaf. In this case braiding the bread. The recipe called for three 'strands' of bread, however, due to my fantastically uneven division I ended up with four even pieces that I braided together. I must say, I think it looks a lot nicer this way.

So then Declan went to bed and Maribeth took over the final steps of applying the wash and poppy seeds and chucking the whole kit and caboodle in the oven. 45 minutes later...the end result:


















Great job Maribeth. Easter Day will tell, but I bet it tastes as good as I assume it will.

-zach

Meet Lucy and other stuff

By: Mrs. Swarr

We finally bought a card reader, and boy do I have pictures to show you! First, here is the [most] neurotic member of our family, Lucy:



Quite ladylike, no? She still annoys the crap out of us (Arty most of all), but she seems to have edged her way into our hearts, so I guess we'll keep her. Although if she ever pees on our bed again......

Right. Less blogging more pictures. Next is one of Zach's brilliant ideas for Thanksgiving. If one of us is ever to stay home with the kids on a permanent basis, it will be Zach. I would make them wash dishes and clean their rooms. Zach? Not so much:



More Thanksgiving - seriously, do you see the smile on this kid's face? Leave it to Uncle Gabe:

Here's one more recent picture to get you through the day. Much more to come, but they all have stories to go with them.

That's Capital

Last night was family fun night, as is every Wednesday. It doesn't matter what we do on these nights, so long as we do it together. Last night Zach decided to make this particular night a bit more special. After the adventure of making chicken quesadillas together and trying to get Declan to eat his dinner in less than 3 hours, we cleared the table. Lo and behold, under Declan's plate was a note in Daddy's handwriting. It was a clue. I was excited, Declan was not. "What has keys but no locks? What makes music so we can dance?" Declan was convinced it was the door despite the obvious logic. We finally clued him in that the door in fact does have locks and most definitely does not make music, so the next logical answer is the piano. He still didn't get it.

We made it to the piano though, and thankfully the rest of the clues were much easier. Declan and I ran all over the house discovering new clues in places such as "where we put the clothes to dry" and "where Declan lays his head to sleep." It was picture perfect family bonding time.

What I didn't know was what the prize waiting for us at the end would be. A lollipop for Declan? A sticker? Two stickers? Oh how I continue to underestimate the man I have chosen to endure life with! There was not a lollipop or a sticker or even two stickers. There was not even a new toy for Declan. Instead there was a detailed plan of our already booked and planned out trip to Washington DC. I. Am. Stoked. I can't wait to take Declan to the zoo and the Smithsonian and the Museum of Natural History....... We are seriously going to have a blast and I can't believe how awesome Zach is for planning this whole thing out.

"My" game.

Ask any gamer what 'their' game is and they'll be more than happy to not only tell you what it is, but they will tell you every aspect of it including their own personal crowning achievement whilst playing it. That game for me is Bionic Commando.


It's a NES game from back in the day. It's absolutely fantastic. You're a soldier with a bionic arm who is on a mission to plow through an entire enemy army, rescue a POW and destroy a top secret doomsday machine designed by a man who not only looks identical to Hitler, but is also cryogenically frozen for decades only to come reanimated at the most climactic part of the game. Crazily realistic, huh? I think so too.

I'll tell you what, that game is utterly fantastic to play. Your bionic arm allows you to not only grapple on to just about anything and swing around, but you can also hit enemies and grab little 'ration cans' for additional life.

So now that I've told you all about 'my' game, I need to tell you my crowning achievements. Most of the time you'll hear, "I can beat the game without dying once." Yeah, I can do that. Then you might even hear, "I can beat the game and get every item and find every secret." Done and done. Typically what you don't hear is this: "I can beat the first 3 levels with my eyes closed without dying." Yeah...that's right. And you've probably never heard this, "I can beat the game one handed." Yep. One handed.

Needless to say, Bionic Commando is my favorite game. Ever. That's one of the reasons why I have such mixed feelings about the fact that it has resurfaced in the gaming world. I am overjoyed because it's a new Bionic Commando game, but I'm saddened because Capcom is releasing the game through Sony and Microsoft, not through Nintendo.

However not only is there a new game coming out, there is also a new version of the original game coming out. Meaning, it's the exact same game only it's received new graphics, better bionic arm features and simultaneous two player action. But alas, no Nintendo.

So all in all, I still love Bionic Commando and I will continue to play it until the day I die. Now I just need to figure out a way to get an XBox 360 and the new versions without breaking the bank.

I'll keep my fingers crossed on the hand I'm not playing the game with.

-Zach

Look, a picture!!!

By: Mrs. Swarr

The camera card reader still doesn't work. I don't know the facts - all I know is that parts of our computer don't work and that makes me very grumpy. Maybe not grumpy. More like perturbed. Severely perturbed, that's it.


Anyway, still no pictures. No pictures of Lucy our new cat (does 4 months still count as new?), no pictures of Christmas, no pictures of Declan's 3rd birthday party, no pictures of the changes we've made in the house.... nuthin. I suppose we should just buy a new card reader, but we already have 2 that we were only able to use once or twice each, and dammit I don't want to spend money on something I just bought 2 weeks ago and shouldn't have had to buy again for 2 years!!!!!! Perturbed.



Ok how's this:




We don't really let Declan watch El Tigre a whole lot, partly because its too fast-paced for a 3 year old, but mostly because we don't have Nickelodeon and its rarely on demand. We try to let him know though, that 'this is your Uncle Gabe's cartoon so you should think its the coolest thing ever.' Hasn't really worked. Thankfully McDonald's was willing to help us out here and agreed to slip El Tigre toys into his Happy Meal (they really do make you happy).



Before you all condemn us here, we tried to avoid the fast food thing with Declan, but you have to understand... we slipped once, and ever after there is no food on the planet that compares to chickennuggetsandfrenchfries. Not only is chickennuggetsandfrenchfries the best ever food, but it will cure anything that ails him.



"My tummy hurts, wahhh"

chickennuggetsandfrenchfries



"I'm sleepy and grumpy, wahhh"

chickennuggetsandfrenchfries


"WAHHHHH"



chickennuggetsandfrenchfries



See? The choices are to refuse toilet food and stay up all night preparing organic yummies, OR concede the fact that people have been eating toilet food for 50 years and the worst thing that has happened is that they are fat, unhealthy and gross. The winning choice is obviously my God given right to a smidgen of sanity.



Am I off track? Where was I? Oh yeah, El Tigre. Well since the toys have entered our household (how dare you accuse us of having 4 of each character!), Declan finally gets the picture. I mean he mostly gets the picture. He runs around yelling "WHITE PANTERAAAAAAAA" and plays with the toys and still thinks Uncle Gabe is the best human being ever. I guess the only thing we're still stuck on is the whole 'dual personality' thing. He doesn't get that Manny and El Tigre are one and the same. That causes some major confusion let me tell you. Oh and it doesn't help that he has seen the episode where Frida steals Manny's belt and becomes La Tigressa, because now he's convinced that El Tigre is a girl therefore he couldn't possibly be Manny in disguise and so on and so forth.

Really Big Rodents

By: Mrs. Swarr

I always thought that kids tend to get overly excited about little things. Which isn't good because if you get overly excited about every little thing, you tend to be let down an awful lot. Well. Turns out when you have kids, you become just as bad.

For example, last Wednesday we took Declan to his first movie in a theater. The only kid friendly movie was Alvin and the Chipmunks. Not entirely thrill inducing, but since it has a lot of music, we thought it would suffice. I got super excited about the fun we would have and about telling our wonderful blog readers all about the great fun we had and I was convinced Declan would be talking about it for days (weeks!) afterward.

There I go, underestimating the level of grandeur now required to wow our little (almost) 3 year old. The movie? Just another movie. The popcorn? Good for a while. The fact that the screen was the size of our house - meh. Not so much. The most exciting moment of the whole evening? Trying to sit down and realizing that the seats are folded up. And if you run down the row flipping down all the seats it's really cool.

Oh well. It may not have been overly memorable, but we had fun and that was the point.

Mini-Schaeffer Has Arrived

It's official. Dean has created life and it now walks among us. Well, poops, eats, cries and lays on its back among us.

I don't want to steal his thunder in the details, but I was provided with the following FIRST PICTURE of baby Schaeffer. Enjoy!!



Congratulations, Dean and Michelle.

~The Swarrs

Don't touch me

By: Mrs. Swarr

Over the past year and a half, I have steadily been going blind. The fact that I can't read road signs and have to walk halfway down the grocery isle to read whether what I need is actually in that isle or not has been getting on my nerves, but what finally prompted me to visit the eye doctor is the fact that I can no longer read the show listings on our little Comcast menu. Do you know how horrible it is to actually have to flip through the channels rather than perusing the menu? There's this little delay between each channel that makes flipping truly agonizing.

After about 500 phone calls to ensure I selected a doctor in the network, I made it to the eye doctor today. Now I really don't mind the eye doctor (seeing as the alternative is the dentist which is truly worse than death)(no offense Charlie, I'm sure you're a fabulous dentist, I just haven't had the pleasure of your superior dentisting skills), but I really am not a big fan of that little puff of air they blow at your eyes - scares the shit out of me every time. Well let me tell you. My fancy new eye doctor doesn't use the little puff of air. Oh no. They numb your eyeballs and then poke them to see how squishy they are. That's right. My eyeballs are completely numb right now and they do NOT feel happy.

And as a side note, a bunch of lettuce and some dressing is definitely not enough to nourish one for an entire day. Add a few chickens, a loaf of bread, some side dishes and then we're on the right track.

I need a new button

When I get home today I am going to have to find the button jar and search for a new button for my pants. I truly don't recall how it came off, although I have a good guess as to why most buttons become detached. I did keep it in the pocket of my pants just in case I would be feeling ambitious one day and sew it back on. It's not absolutely necessary because I also have one of those metal tab/hook that works just fine...at least until one side of it gets bent or pulled out. So all in all, I'm ok to leave my button in my pocket until the time comes to restore it to its full potential of being a button.

Well, I thought it was ok...until this morning that is. When it all went wrong. You see, being 28, I already find myself having to take medication daily. One pill to prevent daily migraines (can I get a sarcastic 'yay,' people?). So until the day comes when I no longer have to take the meds, I must consume them faithfully. And because I am me, I sometimes forget. Last evening was one of those nights. I forgot to take it. And I forgot to take it when I left the house this morning. I only remembered it when I had to run back in to grab the phone that I forgot and while I was there, I also grabbed the pair of jeans and a shirt that I forgot (notice a pattern yet?).

So I shove the pill in my pocket and run out of the house. I get to work and I remember my pill.

I reach in my pocket, put my pill in my mouth, drink and swallow.

Crap. That didn't feel like a pill. It was a little bit too big.

Stupid button...





-zs

Friends

By: Mrs. Swarr

Declan has a best friend. I'm not quite sure how it happened as they've been best friends for at least a year now. Its not like they could have chatted it up in their first and second or even third years of life. But somehow they decided they liked each other and time has not weakened the bond. Should you think I am exaggerating when I say 'best' friends, let me enlighten you:

- When asked what he was thankful for over the Thanksgiving holidays, Declan immediately piped up, "My Isabel!"
- On days when Isabel is grumpy and sleepy, the only way her mother can get her out the door to daycare is to remind her that, "Declan is there waiting to play with you"
- Declan is constantly picking up acorns, leaves, cookies, etc. claiming they are to give to Isabel the next day

Since Declan is a lonely little mongrel with no friends outside of school, we decided a play date with little Isabel would be a good idea. This morning we bumped into Isabel and Isabel's Mom (parents don't have names at school, they are simply ____'s Mom/Dad) and set a date. Declan went from a sleepy, carsick lump to an excited ball of energy. He said something like, "We're going to play with Isabel and we're going to have so much fun!!!!" but really it just sounded like one long word.

Yeah they're best friends. I feel quite comfortable betrothing them now and avoiding any possible high school drama that may otherwise have occurred.

By the way....

By: Mrs. Swarr

The holidays were wonderful. Christmas was a whole lot of fun with too many gifts received and not enough given, my birthday was fine and relaxing, and New Years was the salve to any remaining stress. We did miss a few of our brothers and sisters an awful lot, but that is what happens when we all grow up, marry, and move across the country.

Declan actually behaved very well for having his insides replaced with sugar and then being overloaded with gifts. I may be a scrooge when it comes to getting ready for Christmas (I actually tried to convince Zach not to put a tree up this year), but I truly love the holidays and the time it gives us to enjoy each other.

Next is Declan's birthday, mere weeks away. This is what I have to say about that - Do you people have any idea how big our house is? No seriously. His toy room is now located in the back yard and I could care less if it is only 20 degrees out. "You want your toys, boy? Well bundle up and go play, I don't care if puzzles don't work with mittens!"

He has great toys actually, but you know what? He doesn't play with them, not because he's spoiled and doesn't like them, but because he doesn't have time. We all get home, throw some microwavable dinner down our throats, try to play/tidy up/bathe/remove the year old pumpkin from the front porch/pay bills for a few minutes, and then it is off to bed before we realize we've made it home. If you want to do something for Declan for his birthday this year, plan a date with him. Enjoy him and let him enjoy you. He is the sweetest, funniest, most lovable little guy, and his young life is slipping past us. He loves his family so much, and I guarantee he would love a day with you more than any other gift you could give him (not that he won't run around the house screaming about another Thomas or Lightning McQueen t-shirt...).

Bombs Away

By: Mrs. Swarr

Potty training sucks. Especially when the kid involved has no interest. There is nothing worse.

So when we are not horribly irritated by his straddle walk after he has let cry, "oh no I peed in my pants!" we try to take the laughs we can. Lately, the laugh comes with the poop. Rather than telling us he has to go or heaven forbid sitting on the little green and yellow toilet we bought just to make pottying easier for him, he leaves. He goes to another room. And when we go check on him he dramatically puts his hand out to stop us, "No Mommy! Don't come in here! It's gonna be stinky." Unfortunately I never retain enough composure to get the little squirt into the bathroom before making the room stinky, but at least I get some joy out of the day.

Cheap fix

By: Mrs. Swarr

I have been putting off any blogs because the ones that need written really require pictures. Unfortunately our camera card reader has stopped working (the one that we have only used once). For now I'll have to write sans pictures, and if I'm super lucky, I can get the card reader working and the pictures updated.

The first item of business is our pet situation. Being devastated as I was about losing Oliver, I conceded one day to a family trip to the Lancaster Humane League. The argument was that Declan had been extra good and looking at a bunch of cats in cages would be a special treat for him. My condition: "We are absolutely not getting a cat today."

Let me tell you, getting married, having a son, and needing to take responsibility for everything in my life might have turned me into a cruel, stone hearted witch, but when I crash, I crash hard. The moment we stepped into the room of playful kittens and snuggly cats begging to be adopted, I knew we would be making an addition to the family that day.

I told one of the do-good high school girls what I was looking for in a cat and she immediately told me which one was for us. So I went into a room full of free roaming cats to check the proffered cat out. He was fine, but nothing special - just a cat, and after Oliver, there was no way I would be settling for just a cat.

Enter Teena. Little white and black cat that decided my lap was the perfect place to cozy up and relax. That was all it took. We informed do-good high school girl of our intentions and in response we received, "No, you don't mean Teena, she's not friendly. All she ever does is hide in the litter box. Show me which one you were holding." Ha!! In your face! Teena doesn't like your teeny bopper ways, but let me tell you, she is all about a 3 year old dragging her around by her neck!!!

Needless to say, the first thing we did (even before getting her home) was change the name. Teena became Lucy about 2 months ago and has since survived numerous vet appointments, many traumatizing moments with Declan, and some very harsh words from me after she peed on our bed. She's actually turned out to be pretty nice. We still have a few kinks to work out, but she is very sweet and snuggly and puts up with Declan regularly. With age and practice, she might just live up to Oliver standards. Either way, she has definitely helped to fill the space he left in our home.

Snow Day

By: Mrs. Swarr

There are days that I will complain about having to leave work every single time Declan is sick, vomits because he ate lunch too fast, feels hot because (duh) he just woke up, or his daycare just doesn't feel like being open that day any more. Don't let me fool you. What could possibly be better than a fool-proof excuse to ditch work and hang out with the coolest 3 year old on the block? Seriously. The work will still be there tomorrow and praise the Lord if it isn't, but Declan is growing up so stinkin fast. Those days when its just me and him hanging out at home waiting for Daddy to join us - they're the best.

Declan's daycare just called and is closing. The weather sucks today, our cars and the roads are coated with ice, and I'm dreading the drive home that will likely be extended to 2 hours due to said ice, but I'm leaving in an hour and then - then the day is ours baby!

The Bus Rocks

By: Mrs. Swarr

Last week I dropped Declan off at school in the morning and was told he may be able to join the older kids for their field trip to a puppet show. This was a pretty big deal being his first trip out and first bus ride and first puppet show... but it was still uncertain if there would be an extra space for him.



I waited anxiously all day, wondering what tales our little man would have to tell later that night, if any. At home that night, we asked Declan all sorts of questions: "Did you go anywhere special today?" "Did you get to play with the older kids today?" etc. The answer to all was an uninterested 'no'. Sadly, Declan must not have been able to go.


Or so we thought. The next morning on the way to school we passed a school bus and Declan piped up, "Mommy I rode on a school bus!" I think he may have peed himself in fear with my uproarious, "What?!" (its ok he still wear diapers so no harm done) (except that he's still in diapers which totally sucks).


So after lots of questions, I discover that he had gone to the puppet show, had ridden the school bus, and hadn't told us. Honestly. Apparently Declan isn't to sure about Marionettes though. I asked him if he had fun and all I got was, "eh, sort of." Seems there was a scary monster that died (did you know there was a monster in Cinderella??), but the school bus was fun (duh, he got to sit next to Isabel).


So there he goes, having adventures, doing new things and mom and dad are oblivious. Maybe we'll book him for a communication class.

The Red Violin

By: Mrs. Swarr

First I want to warn you all against the rapid decline in quality writing in the Swarr Family blog. Why? The great writer of the family and composer of said blog (Zach) has decided it is time for him to move on and try new things. i.e. I told him to get up off his *** and make something of himself by doing some real writing. Okay that's not quite how it went down, but you get the idea. So from now on, I (wife of good writer) (who in contrast happens to have no writing talent) will be in charge of updating you on the family's goings on. And here my friends, is the kind of stuff I get excited about:

We bought a painting. At my urging. Me. Miss penny pinching, tight wadded, stodgy scrooge authorized the spending of many dollars on an item that does not fit into the category of "absolutely necessary for continued survival on Earth." What the hell? I give Zach a hard time for spending an extra $2 on brand name shampoo! But I couldn't help it. We do stupid things when we're in love. Here is the love story of me and my painting:


My father-in-law is an artist. Some of his stuff I like, some of it is not as much my favorite (did I skirt around that one well enough?). Well.... the moment I saw the Red Violin (the name I lovingly attached to her) I knew I had been ruined and would never truly love again. She was not complete when we first met, but that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

Like the start of all relationships, this one started out with a lot of doubt. 'She's too good for me' and 'She deserves a better wall than what I can provide for her' and 'What if she meets someone else'. Nevertheless I continued to visit her in Dad's studio. I even went to see her when she was moved to a gallery to display herself for anyone who dared walk by (the little slut). Jealousy ensued, but I was reserved to the fact that a Lititz art snob could give her a better home than I ever could.

Weeks went by and we saw each other only in passing. We exchanged pleasantries, but the atmosphere was cool to say the least. Then came the studio tour in which I knew she would yet again be displaying herself to the world. I was prepared to deal with it, until we got to Dad's studio and saw the crushing news: All Items 50% Off. What?! At least before she was demanding a decent rate! How could she whore herself out like this? I left in a rage of disappointment and confusion. Now any slum could walk in off the street and leave with her on his arm - it was anyone's guess what kind of life she would end up in. Through my hurt and anger, I simply knew I could not let that happen. Zach and I were well on our way when I finally spoke the words I had been hiding from for so long, "Honey, we need to buy her." I prepared for a long discussion with arguments worthy to convince him that it was for the best, but all I got was, "Okay. You'd better call Dad or it'll be too late." He had known all along. My secret love affair had never been a secret.

Well the Red Violin came home last night, and although we have little wall space, we made a cozy little spot for her, and there she will stay until Zach hits it big with his superb writing skills and we can buy her a new wall that is truly worthy of her.

Roar... tiger-like

By: Mrs. Swarr

I was going to write a nice long story about Halloween, but when it comes down to it, this is all there was:

• Mommy works on tiger costume for days
  
• Family walks in Mt Gretna parade on Monday, during which there is a torrential downpour and said costume is all but ruined. Trick-or-treat night? Wednesday. I have 1 evening to remake Tiger.
• Tiger shabbily remade, trick-or-treating a success despite crazed rush from Lancaster to Morgantown.

He knocked on the doors and said trick-or-treat all by himself

Post trick-or-treating:

• Declan learns he is not allowed to eat 3 lbs of candy at 8:30pm, even if he did just work for every piece of it.
  
• Our beautiful 2 year old magically transforms into a raging, screaming, spitting, writhing mass of evil.
  
• Said mass of evil is forcibly strapped to car seat (give me a break - I could have lost a limb) and proceeds to scream the entire 40 minute ride home.

I think he fell asleep at some point that night, but I've erased the majority of the event from my now frail mind.

Next year we'll give him door duty.

Oliver Swarr: A Tribute

We were actually hesitant to get another cat, but we talked it over and decided that Arty needed a friend. We went to the local shelter and I started to look around at the cats. Maribeth walked in the room and within 5 minutes had a tiger striped cat out of its cage and in her arms. It was the fastest bonding I had ever seen between an animal and a human. We found our Swarr.

We got him home and naturally he was hesitant of his new surroundings, but by the evening he was sitting on the couch with a little Declan hovering inches from his face. They exchanged sniffs and kisses and then whack. Declan hit him on the head with a Gameboy and under the couch he went for almost the rest of the night. If my memory serves me, I actually think he slept on our bed the first night and just about every night since.

He was fantastic. An instant part of the family. His bond to Maribeth was very strong and very visible. He wouldn't ever let me hold him for more than 6 seconds and he rarely slept on my side of the bed. When she had a bad day he would follow her and love her just the right amount. He was always there to greet her (and I) and never missed an opportunity to make it known that he was hers.

His patience with Declan was outstanding. He let Declan poke and prod. Explore and tug. Tickle and snuggle. And all the while he was happy. He would intervene with Declan at just the right times to get him to relax or help him do what we were asking. It was almost creepy, but he truly did.

Oliver was one of those cats that comes along once in a lifetime. He was an extremely loving cat who would always curl up on your lap. He would follow you around, but never get underfoot. He would nuzzle with you when it was needed and keep his distance when the time was right.

Although he was only living in this house for about a year and a half, he has more than earned the right to be a lifetime member of the family. He helped make this house a home and he will be sorely missed. And although (I'm sure) many other pets will grace the halls of this house, he will be the one to whom we will compare them all.

So to you, Oliver, we say, "Thank you. Thank you for coming into our lives and our hearts. You will always be with us."

-Your family