Celebrating 2008, The Year of Invisible Posts — It’s Not Your Eyes
Welcome to the Brookston family blog. We'll post updates here on what's going on in our part of the world, and especially with our son, Porter, who has been diagnosed with some form of autism. Our hope is that this blog will help us deal with all the issues we'll be facing and keep our friends and family informed as well.
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The Big “O”
Last night at the NaNoWriMo kick-off party, they had five big number balloons, a five and four zeros. When the party was over, they were trying to figure out what to do with the balloons and popping them was suggested. Instead, I brought one of them home for Porter, thinking he’d get a kick out of it; which he did.
Porter and the Big “O.”
The Honda Diaries
On Saturday the Honda Diaries will begin. Sarah’s mom and I are flying to Dallas, Texas Saturday night and will be driving Sarah’s brother Dave’s wife Cyndi’s Honda back to the Bay Area starting Sunday morning. We figure it will take us four or five days and we’re planning on a leisurely pace that will include stops at local breweries, tourist sites, artist colonies and quite possibly the Grand Canyon. I will chronicle our trip as the Honda Diaries, in homage to Che Guevera’s motorcycle diaries.
Dave and his family are moving back to the Bay Area after several years living north of Dallas in the town of McKinney, Texas. We’re all thrilled about the move, especially since it will provide an opportunity for Porter and his cousin Julien, and Alice and her cousin Lily, to spend much more time together. Anyway, I won’t have my laptop with me so I’ll be chronicling the trip here when I get back and will have loads of pictures I suspect. While I’m gone I will be posting placeholders for the diary entries. I’ve also been hoarding photos of the kids so that I can schedule regular blog postings for those of you who would be lost without regular updates to the blog.
Why the Honda diaries you may ask? Well you’re probably aware of my liberal and revolutionary tendencies,but perhaps you are unaware of my name in Pennsylvania Dutch. When I worked at a Boy Scout camp as a teen, the cooks and other locals around Hawk Mountain (where the camp was) were thick with Pennsylvania Dutch accents and could not pronounce the hard “J” sound if their life depended on it. As a result, my name came out “Chay” and I was so branded for entire summers. My camp staff jacket, still hanging in the closet, has “Chay” embroidered over the pocket. Viva la revolución!
Mommy’s Little Cowgirl
Knowing Sarah’s love of all things cowgirlish, I thought she’d appreciate this outfit I put Alice in yesterday.
“Howdy, pardner.”
