Wierd if pretty flowers and the "die hole."

First, I opened up the local paper this morning to discover that we'd had a really near miss yesterday at the fair. After the kids' runs, there was something else organized by age group for kids going on in the stadium, but we didn't investigate because we were busy eating corndogs and being hot. Turns out, per the Omaha World Herald, that it was some kind of a race where children chased after livestock and ended up getting to keep whatever they could catch. Pictured in the paper were a sweet little girl with a bunny and a triumphal little boy with a duck. We came home livestock free, which is probably for the best.

Next, on our way to church this morning (which, you know you're in the "progressive" church in town when the pastor calls Haight-Ashbury 'the promised land' from the pulpit) Peter innocently* asked Mike whether he knew all of the recipes Mommy knew. Mike hedged a bit, said he probably knows most of them, and asked Peter why he wondered. "Because," said my sweet four-year-old guy, "if I push Mommy down a die-hole, we can still eat eggs for breakfast." Too much Star Wars... "die hole" being this, more or less:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjPUVzX-GDU

Luckily, it was Sunday morning, so I chose to focus charitably on the day earlier in the week when he cried out in distress over the illustration of a dinosaur eating another dinosaur in his library book. I *assume* I mean as much to my child as an illustration of a dinosaur...

Finally, we've got some kind of funky tropical-ish flower blooming in the space we've designated for veggies and herbs. We'll transplant it, whatever the hell it is, into some more decorative area, like the front yard.






*not really