Wednesday, March 30, 2011

RJ and the kids

Today Rosie has been on a quotable roll.
This morning we went for a bike ride/stroll/jog (Rosie's new bike is mostly fun, some white-rage-shrieking) and there was a big gray cloud over the mountain.
RJ: that cloud is brown. When the cloud is brown, it means thunder and lightening... I think the sky will crack!

RJ: I wonder if that haole guy will be there.
me: huh? What haole guy? what's a haole guy?
RJ: a guy who dresses all weird.

RJ: baby goats are cuter than real babies.
speaking of baby goats...

A couple of weeks ago we went on a field trip to Kunana Goat Dairy and met these very cute little dairy goatlets, one day old.

 The farm apparently put the children in a posey mood.

 Look at all that chevre!
 We got to sample some of their truly tasty products. My favorite was the lilikoi chevre.
 Well, look who we got to take home! Three of those same baby goatlets that we met were available, and so we were able to adopt them. Rosie has named them Rosie (the white one, because she has white hair), Maaaarideth, and Daddy. Yes, Daddy is a she-goat. :)
 Princess ballerinas love goats.

 I love their little camel noses.

Maile does not enjoy them. She spasms, legs kicking and frantic whining, when animals are around, even birds. Also, they defy description, she doesn't know what to call them. The sign for goat is a little complicated, so she signs "DOG" and makes her pig noise at the same time. But our little pig-dogs are pretty charming, hopefully they'll grow on her.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Rosie is FOUR!

Happy Birthday, Huge Kid!



Maile is ONE!


Subtitled by Rosie. Again.

\\car! Maile, Car! Maile.
Baby ride, baby ride
maile kee, maile kee
sick rosie, sick rosie
goat! rosie, Goat! rosie

Beach with rosie, beach with rosie
Maile watch, Maile watch
Maile glasses, Maile glasses
Dog tongue, dog tongue
(This needs some context. We have a wild dog problem-- they ate all our chickens, ravage the cat food, and knock over the garbage cans. And one day, this guy was poking around. I thought I was very tough and got him tied up. Turned out though that he was the cutest puppy on the planet. And then i almost killed him. Girl scouts with keen eyes will probably realize that my knot sucks. I tied him up, then went to grab him water, came back and he had wrapped himself around a ti plant and was choking. I was wearing Maile on my back, like always, and did that movie thing where you try to run and then fall down and then run again-- I ran inside and grabbed some scissors, ran back out and cut the rope off of his neck. I sat there, cursing and commanding the dog to live and rubbing him. I stopped for a second to see -- and he lifted up his head and thumped his tail. Freaking idiot dog.
Tame dog, tame dog 
(so I picked him up and put him in the chicken coop until the cute humane society girl came to get him. About an hour later, a guy stopped by in his lanscaping-business truck (byline, I am NOT joking, 'Call us to trim your bush') and asked if I had found a lost hunting dog puppy. Woops.)
And here
 is a dress I made when i was about 18. Yes, I've ALWAyS been on the cutting edge of fashion! Look at those pockets, man! It's like an apron and a dress all in one! Matt calls this my sexy plyg dress.
chicken! with spice on it!
Spagetti eating, spagetti eating!
(not spaghetti, hamura saimin. slowest service ever, crowded, mini stools to sit on, and best noodle soup you'll ever have.)
Baby eat, baby eat
(my kids like the kamaboko-- the pressed fish cakes. probably made of dolphin. meets your daily requirement of essential mercuries!)