Monner's     Mumblings


I worked in the store yesterday. It was Saturday and I did my Saturday chores, plus a couple more. But I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about bicycles. OK! Ivy insists that I write about yarn and the store, so let’s get that out of the way. Elaine and I were driving to YOUR DAILY FIBER, our families yarn store, when we came upon what appeared to be some kind of bicycle race. (That should do it, Ivy.) I’m guessing there was a couple hundred people on bikes riding down the road doing their best to make me late to open the store. (The police were helping the bicyclists slow me down.) Actually, it is more important that Elaine not be late. She was teaching a class, I was

It’s Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day. I’m not sure any fathers actually read these stories, but on the outside chance that one might, Happy Father’s Day. So far it’s shaping up to be a nice day for me. Ivy is knitting in the next room, the twins and Elaine are not up yet. Elaine will be up when she knows the coffee is ready. The twins will get up when I scream down the stairs for one of them to feed the dogs. Why is it that kids want pets until it is time to feed them? (Sorry, I might have drifted off topic there.) The kids have been sneaking around the last few days, asking what I wanted for Father’s Day. I really just want them to clean their rooms, but that wasn’t on my list of choices. Hey, I can dr

Cleaning the Trailer, the Laptop Cord, and Favorite Fingers

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to write a story just like every other Sunday morning. It didn’t happen. Oh, I wanted to write a story, but I have children (and a wife). Sometimes family comes before stories. I brought out the laptop to start writing. when I heard someone (Elaine) say, “If we are going to Jackson next month, we need to clean out the camping trailer.” The next thing I heard was one of the kids (Girl Twin) say, “I’m not helping, you’ve been telling me I need to clean my room and I’m doing that today. Someone else can clean the trailer”. Reluctantly, I knew I was going to need to get involved. Why can’t teenagers just see that no one ever died from cleaning a

Lost Smart Phone and a Broken Thumb

Summer has finally arrived in Northern Colorado. The kids are out of school. The twins are playing youth baseball, and yes, I am coaching again. We can talk about that in a couple minutes. Boy Twin celebrated the end of school by having a sleepover. An “invite TWO thirteen year-old boys over” sleepover. You probably have realized that sleepovers are not my favorite thing to host. It was okay. The boys spent most of the time building a TWO STORY tree house on our property a couple hundred yards from our house. I was expecting three smart (construction language) teenagers with their smart phones sitting on the couch in my house eating pizza and drinking sodas, leaving trash all around.

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