What a great zoo we have here in Cincy. You should check it out. Anyone got any good zoo stories?

It's swimmin' season. Allison is off work right now and she's making the most of her time off with us. It's been good. Question: Is it always this hot in early June? Ah who cares...it's so much better than the cold.



When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?

You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.

- Psalm 8:3-5

My bride picked up the phone a couple of days ago to find an unfamiliar voice. My grandma Nevada. Nevada was the foster mother of my mom. My sister Amie and I grew up knowing her as our grandma of course. We didn't see her nearly as much as my dad's mom though.

Nevada called us to let us know she had come across some photos that she was getting rid of to see if we wanted them. She said basically that once her and my grandpa Don die off, there won't be anyone around who knows who all these kids are. They raised many foster kids. Those foster kids had lots of kids. I had a different cousin pretty much every time I went over there. All loosely connected...all a little confused.

So I called Nevada yesterday and I drove Allison, Ava, and I over to meet up with them. We sat around and chatted for a while and reminisced. It was certainly bittersweet as I only realized just how long I've been away as I was walking through the door. It's been about 9 years since I've connected with them. How can you be so close and just drift away for 9 years?

I picked up some photos and it was so exciting because I don't remember any of them.

My mom and dad together...and looking happy:

My sister before the drugs, before the accident, before her innocence was ripped away:

Looking forward to everything:

Mom (she called me yesterday and she sounded straight.):

Apparently mom had something to do with the church...I always thought she was lying:

I was 14, Amie was 13:

It was a good trip to my grandparents house. It boggles my mind to think of just how introverted an extrovert can be. I've got to make time for the important things in my life.

We watched Juno last night. I liked it. I didn't know if I liked it at first because it made me uncomfortable...but it was good. I reminded me of real life and how things happen. So many people want to look deep to find where problems come from...so often they're just a result of boredom or the chips falling in the wrong direction. Juno was worth seeing.

Here was my view from the balcony looking out towards the ocean:


And here was the view from the balcony looking down:


Here's mama and Ava walking through the Appalachicola National park:


Ava likes to slide:


Harrison (my Nephew) likes to swing:


Daddy and Ava coming back from our long trek into the forest (approx. 200 feet):


Attempted Artsy Photo #1:


Attempted Artsy Photo #2:


Attempted Artsy Photo #3 (coffee edition):


Attempted Artsy Photo #4:


Now these next 4 photos...these are my favorite. It drives me crazy when people say...whoa...you have a really good camera when they see a nice photo. They act like the camera does all the work and it's just not true. Proof? These next 4 shots are from Allison with her little purple point-and-shoot Olympus camera. (I bought it for her for our 5 year anniversary last week *grins*)




And the best shot ever...Ava Beans dancing on the beach:

It's sunny and 75 today. Yes!

Me: "Hey Allison, what are your plans for today?"
Allison: "I don't know...swimming,...sitting in the sun...*shrugs shoulders*"

Me: "Hey Tracy, what are your plans for today?"
Tracy: "Um...going to the beach and then to the pool and then to the beach and then to the pool. Pizza for dinner."

Me: "Hey Allayna, what are your plans for the day?"
Allayna: "I don't know...go to the beach probably...like...I don't know."

Me: "Hey Ted, what are your plans for the day?"
Ted: "I was going to go to the beach with Tracy...why, do you have something in mind?"

Me: "Hey Andrea, what are your plans for the day?"
Andrea: "I don't have any...yet."

Me: "Hey Chris, what are your plans for the day? Chris? Chris are you there?"
Chris: *sleeping*

Me: "Hey Ava, what are your plans for the day?"
Ava: "Candy?"

Me: "Hey Corina, what are your plans for the day?"
Corina: *perplexed* "What? I don't know...whatever everyone else's plans are..."

Me: "Hey Harrison, what are your plans for the day?"
Harrison: *growls at me*

Me: "Hey Ralph, what are your plans for the day?"
Ralph: "I'm going to ride the bike."

Me: "Hey Cheryl, what are your plans today?"
Cheryl: "I'm going to the thrift store...it's open from 10-3...now I have to find someone to go with me." *Ryan runs away screaming*

Myself? I have no plans either. You can see this day is shaping up quite nicely. Have fun...I know we are.

During the previous two nights of our vacation we set our fun aside to throw down some serious dominoes. Mexican Train Dominoes is an Olympic sport...and if it's not, well, that's just an upsetting injustice. A 2-day world championship tournament took place at the dining room table. The objective is to be left with the lowest score. Add the scores from day 1 and day 2 together to see who has the lowest overall score.

I'll let the evidence speak for itself:

Allayna Teddie Winkler is my sister-in-law. My wife's youngest sister to be exact. She is fifteen and she writes songs and plays music. She's played at Kidd Coffee before and recently had a chance to play at Zen and Now Coffeehouse. I'm not sure if she knows it, but I love her very much and I'm proud of her.

My wife Allison took these photos:

I've been trying to make an intentional effort to spend more time with my family doing activities together. It's always a blast and I'd just be missing out to do otherwise.

Ava likes going to the play area at Northgate Mall. We took her up there a couple times this week. She has a blast and we reap the benefits of her spending up energy and going to bed earlier. Then Allison and I can make sweet love watch TV together.



This little girl kept coming up to Ava and wanted to play with her. As I prayed for God to heal whatever she had going on my heart was continually breaking and I was overcome by the feelings of good favor we have in our lives. We are so healthy. We are so rich. We are so spoiled and all we want is more. Ugh.


This photo sums up most of what my life consists of. I love this picture.


If you're not completely sick of us yet, check out some more photos from the mall excursion.

What are some of the ways you've been spending quality and quantity time lately?

I've taught myself to smile in a way that you'd probably never notice. The first time I ever went to the dentist was when I was 19 years old. My teeth were already in bad shape (read severe periodontal disease) so they didn't handle the impact very well at all.

Scoop after scoop there wasn't a problem. I loaded tree limbs, brush and all sorts of debris into the wood chipper without an issue. The last armful did me in though. I had raked together the last bits of what I was chipping and tossed it all into the TreeDestroyer2000. There was a stone that made it's way into the pile and when I dropped it into the chipper it dropped me. The rock fired back out at me with such force that it knocked my two front bottom teeth in. Knocked in to the point that they were not salvageable. I had them pulled out a couple days later.

It must be some kind of generational curse or something.

But hey, at least I can relate to certain people now.

Anyone have an extra five grand laying around for me to get some implants?

We had some of my family over tonight for el Cumpleaño de mi Papa. There were about 12 or 13 of us here and it was a great time. I made a 7lb beef roast with all the fixins. My Granddad (notice...not my grandpa...grandpa is apparently a sissy term in my family) entered mi casa in classic Granddad style saying, "What's burning? I smell something burning! What are you burning?" To which I responded, "Not a thing...I'm sautéing some mushrooms...that's how they smell." To which he replied, "They smell burnt!" To which I retorted, "I guess you're one less person we have to share them with." To which he countered, "They look burnt too."

Not allowing old Ralph to ruin my cooking serenity I simply kept my back turned to him until I noticed he walked away. Classic move. Ryan = Win.

Here's the crotchety old boy himself...along with a lovely bride.

The birthday boy with my stride materfamilias.

Dad with Chloe (my sister who is younger than my daughter) and Calvin.

Calvin. That miracle little man-boy. His head is gigantic.

Poor little dude is like and orange on a toothpick. He's a genius though.

Here's my brother Nicholas riffling through someone's wallet. When I was his age I had two jobs and a mortgage already.

Ava had a little too much to drink. Lush.

Chloe: Perpetual thumb-sucker.

All in all it was a good night. Dad is 49...not too old yet. Well...maybe it is when your kids at home are 1, 3, and 7. Ouch.

Allison and I are heading into the bedroom because it's business time.

No not that you sickos. That is a given. The business we're getting down to is in the Word of the Lord. We're devoting to do a prayer/study time together on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Ask us how it's going so we stay accountable and keep it up.

I want to be the kind of husband who grows spiritually with my wife...not just on my own.

ps...click this if your screen is dirty.

My lovely wife Allison and her younger sister Andrea have pronounced a goal to do a half-marathon together. Now I know it's called a half-marathon, but to me it's more like a quadruple marathon.

Here's MY scale:

* Full Marathon (26 Miles) - 8 Marathons in a row AKA Absolute Certain Death...on a Stick.

* Half Marathon (13 Miles) - 4 Marathons in a row AKA Probable Expiration + Agony.

* Triathlon Run (6 Miles) - 2 Marathons in a row AKA Heat Stroke + Torment = Delirium.

* Jogging (Anywhere between 3 steps and many miles) - This is a simple lapse in judgment.

Thankfully, we're not talking about MY scale in this post. We're talking about Allison and Andrea's scales / goals / running abilities.

When Allison told me that she and her sister would be doing this I was a bit surprised at first. Not that I didn't think they could do it, I do. I think I was surprised that they would jump right into such a big undertaking. I'm extremely proud of them.

As a husband this feels like a big opportunity area to me. I'm so excited that Allison would be going after such a big goal like this. I feel like I need to support her in any way I can. This kind of stuff is crucial for a marriage. When I started training for the triathlons I took part in, Allison supported me by allowing me to buy certain things and get out there and exercise when I needed to. I want to do the same for her.

We went out yesterday and got her a nice pair of running shoes. I was thinking about getting her some as soon as she mentioned it. There's something to getting a new this or that when it comes to a goal. A new pair of shoes is great for having comfort and support when running, but more than that they provide accountability. When I get something new I feel like I have to use it for at least a while. I can't just toss it aside...I've got some answering to do if I don't make use of something.

These shoes will provide just that...an opportunity to be set up for success and the responsibility to keep at it. "You can't stop training...those shoes were $$$!!"

Combine those new shoes with an offer to watch Ava whenever I can and I know she can do this. I can't wait to see it happen...and I can't wait to see the full marathon after that. Allison doesn't ever give up...she'll never be able to stop with a HALF marathon.

Running...Pffft.

I cleaned my aquarium the other day. We were having a party and it looked a bit on the disgusting side. Ever since I worked for an aquarium maintenance company a couple years ago, I've had a hard time keeping my own little piece of indoor ocean clean. Rebellion? Laziness? Yes.

Whenever I clean my aquarium it causes me to think about odd things related to it. For a moment, I think about the inconsiderate and mindless ways in which I pulled together a few thousand dollars to get it. I worked my butt off, but I also stole, lied, and cheated my way into owning that aquarium. I look at it's beauty and I remember the person I was. And then I look at it for a few more seconds and I remember the Jesus who came to forgive me and restore me...thank you Lord Jesus. Thank you for leaving the ninety-nine to come and get me.

Looking at a beautiful saltwater aquarium also brings up some really offbeat memories. I can distinctly remember the first time I laid eyes on a marine aquarium. It was brilliant blue with bright orange Clownfish and gorgeous Anemones. There were Blue Hippo Tangs and amazing corals ebbing and flowing in the current. My face was glued to the glass as I watched the Volitan Lionfish prowl through the crystal clear water. I was hooked. At that very moment, even though I was only 9 or 10 years old, I vowed to myself that when I was older I would own one of these marvels. This amazing and majestic mini-ocean was sitting in a man named Phil's basement.



Phil was bi-sexual. I say that because I am certain that he was "with" my mother and I am also certain he was "with" other men. I'd rather not go into the details. Phil was one of the random scumbags whom my mom would drag my sister and I to stay with. To this day I still have no idea how she met these people. She would go over there to get drunk or high while my sister and I would try to keep ourselves entertained. Phil was one weird dude. I remember he always gave me the creeps and I never wanted to go over there. My dad would go to work and during the summer mom just took us wherever she went. We would tell her we didn't want to go over there and she would convince us that it would only be for a little while and she would buy us something or take us somewhere we wanted to go. Many times a couple of hours would turn into a couple of days and World War III would take place when dad finally found us. It was a mess.

As strange as this Phil character was, he didn't hold a candle to Dave. Dave lived directly across the street from Phil. Dave had a repugnant house that made me want to vomit every time I was in it. It smelled of urine, tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, and death. There was garbage everywhere. He had two gigantic Great Danes and a sofa/love seat combo that were covered in thick plastic. You wouldn't want the furniture to get all messed up in a fancy place like that now would you?

Dave's pinnacle of weirdness was achieved in the form that he wasn't Dave anymore. Dave had become Rebekkah. Dave saved up his money and had a sex change operation and was now a nasty ugly man with woman parts. Dave's candy...excuse me, Rebekkah's candy was Cocaine. He/She had little brown vials of cocaine all over the place and my sweet mum liked the same kind of nose candy as DavBekkah. I'm not entirely sure, but all signs point to DavBekkah being a cocaine dealer. Both Phil and Dave had children...oh how I'm praying for them right this second.


I believe the most insane memory I have of Phil and DavBekkah would have to be the night my mom had some sort of overdose at DavBekkah's house. As I try to remember to the best of my ability I see myself as being 11 years old. There was some sort of freak party going on and I was supposed to be with my dad. Mom said she was taking me over to his apartment, but we were going to stop at Rebekkah's house first. Mom and dad were divorced by this time and they hated each other a good bit. Dad got custody of me and mom got custody of my sister Amie. I was sentenced to spend every other weekend with my mom. Although I tried to make the most of it each time, there was anguish and a sense of impending doom rising up in me each time dad dropped me off.

Minutes stretched to hours at DavBekkah's house and I continually tugged on my mom telling her we had to go. The next time I came in the room to request our departure my mom was laying on the floor with white vomit pooled under her face. She was passed out and did not look okay. She would shake every now and again and I was freaking out. I remember they wouldn't let me use the phone and I was cussing at them.

All I wanted was my dad, he could make this better I thought to myself. Or at least be a sane person to talk to. I didn't know what was wrong with my mom. I'd seen her passed out many, many times, but this was different. I found my mom's keys in her jacket pocket and I dragged her outside and shoved her into the car. This was a lot of work for a boy my size. I took a deep breath and I started the car. I knew how to get to me and my dad's apartment from there...it was only 5 or 10 minutes away. I weighed the benefits and the consequences out in my mind. I thought about what would happen if I got pulled over by a police officer and I remember I was so mad at my mother I knew I could place all the blame on her. So we drove.

I couldn't see over the steering wheel, but I could see through it. I drove straight to my dad's house and by this time it was 11 or 12 at night. There was hardly any traffic out...I remember this because ever car I saw was an anxiety attack in my mind. I drove 2 exits down the interstate and within a couple more minutes I was pulling into my familiar little apartment complex. Oh how happy I was to see that complex. We pulled up and I noticed that my dad wasn't home. He and my sister were probably out at my uncle's or something...I can't remember. I do remember that I started to drag my mom into the apartment and I decided against that. I left her in the car to sit in her vomit and I went inside. I sat there and cried for a while waiting on my dad to get home and I fell asleep on the couch.


I don't know why I didn't call 911 or drop my mom off at the hospital. I guess I didn't really know how bad that could have been. She could have died that night. The next morning and abstract time period after that incident have all become very blurry to me. I can't quite focus in on what transpired of all that nonsense later on...there had to be consequences for some of it.

I have no resolve or moral of the story for the end of this post. I can tell you that I am alive, my family is alive, some of them more alive than others, and I'm filled with joy because Christ lives in me. Jesus is the opposite of those things I remember and that gives me even more hope for the future. I heard a few years back that Phil died of AIDS. I am unsure about DavBekkah as that was the last time I ever saw him/her. Pray for these people...God is big enough to restore.

Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you not to harm you. Plans for hope and a future."

Amen to that.

This one is for Andrea, because Harrison is one sweet little dude.


This one is for Allison, because Ava is one strange little kook.


This one is for the people who miss Ryan and Carrie while they are in Vancouver.


This one is for Melanie, because she has one sexy man.


This one is for me, because Jonah reminds me of good times in my childhood.


This one is for freedom, because Gert escaped Germany just before the wall was built.


This one is for the world, because the world needs some Dan today.


This one is for friends, because it just wouldn't be the same without them.


This one is for Matt, because he thought this photo looked like a movie scene.


This one is for candidness, because being ourselves will always be the greatest.


This one is for whatever chewed up Saul the other day, because this dog will ride once again.


This one is for me, because it's my blog and I can have two. Me likey.

I can't go for more than 2 days without posting something...it gives me anxiety attacks.

The List:

* Party at Allison's Aunt and Uncles house.
* Work 6 hours at the Hobby Shop.
* Party at Grandma's House.
* Dinner at Uncle Dan's place.
* Brine Christmas Turkey at 6am.
* Christmas breakfast at the Winkler's.
* Cook said Christmas Turkey.
* Christmas party/dinner with Allison's family.
* Pass Out for 3 days.

I'm one of those people who has suppressed a lot of my childhood memories.

The thought of that statement annoys me. I never wanted to be someone with fractured thoughts and memories, but the more I look around inside my brain the more it's become apparent that I've got compartments to be unlocked.

Even when I try hard to focus on the past, I cannot think back to before I was four years old. I've got a couple of memories during that time, but most of my recollection comes in from the time I was five to now. There are many breaks in between though. Sometimes I takes a person mentioning something that has happened or some random tidbit that will spark a conjuring of thoughts.

Allison told me a story the other day about an owl that her dad found in the yard. It was rather large, and in my estimation probably a Barn Owl. It died mysteriously and landed on his property. This caused a flicker in my brain and I began to remember a field trip I went on in the second grade. I would have been seven years old and during this time my mom would have been a full-blown alcoholic as well as a drug addict.

She wasn't addicted to crack cocaine yet. Crack wasn't that well known on the drug scene in 1989. Marijuana, and "White Crosses", which were amphetamines, were a a daily devotional. Mom would smoke, snort, or gag down anything you put in front of her. Needles didn't fit her style though so that form of Heroin was out. Everyone's got boundaries.

Dad worked for Coca-Cola as a beverage systems specialist and things were rocky at the workplace by now. Mom's alcohol and drug related shenanigans proved to be too much for a regular work schedule. He and mom had already lost the house and the car due to reckless lifestyles and an inability to conform to adulthood. They were party people and they were bad with money. That combo removed us from a nice bi-level in the suburbs to a $300-a-month dilapidated trailer. Oh how I don't miss that place.

I woke up the morning of the big field trip and I was so excited! Dad had taken me to lots of parks and nature preserves, but there's something about a class field trip that gets you all keyed up to solve the world's problems. You're a better human being the morning you wake up for a field trip. You don't have to do actual school work and you get to explore something new...what could be better? Breakfast perhaps. That would have been too much though.

Dad was off to work and mom's sole responsibility was to get me to school to catch the field trip bus. We would be heading to Governor Bebb Preserve to explore some old village and take the lay of the land. It was going to be great. We were going to check out their little wildlife sanctuary and have a picnic and make pioneer toys and learn about different cultures.

Mom wouldn't wake up though. I was awake. Of course I was awake, I was charged for my upcoming adventure. But I couldn't wake my mom up. She just wouldn't get up. I shook her and I yelled and I pleaded and I just couldn't get her to wake up. This happens sometimes when you have an alcoholic/drug-addict parent. You miss days of school ever now and again because they are sick. This happens sometimes. It's expected sometimes and it's not surprising, but it can't happen on the day of the field trip!

...so here are a few from today.

And here's Ava...she's a cute one:


And here they are together...they're cute ones: