It was nearly lunchtime last Saturday. We were sitting on the futon, contemplating what to eat, watching the squirrels frolic in the snow out the window. Greg: Maybe we should catch one of those squirrels and eat it for lunch. Mr. Sneaky Pants: No Dad! They’re WAY too crunchy!

Several family members have been railing me with emails and letters, concerned that our financial situation is in shambles and we cannot afford to heat our home, and that we are neglecting our children, depriving them of a warm environment. So I’m taking a small moment to publicly clarify that…

Eating whole apples has been quite the rage around here. Usually I cut them into eighths with the apple cutter. The morning light downstairs was beautiful this morning, and Mr. Sneaky Pants was telling the robot in my camera all about his apple and his imaginary sick bluebird.