My dad is a big fire bug. Nothing like a heaping pile of combustible materials to make him happy. This fall we ran into problems with him being cold while he was out with his brush pile. You see, the city slicker that he is was wearing a sissy coat. Alana and I hauled him off to our favorite outdoors store and got him his first Carhartt jacket and some heated glove liners. Next project will be to get him to wear some rather decent boots instead of his old man shoes.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Celtic Dance
The big night for the yearly dance presentation of Alana's Irish step dance group. She loves her dance. Loves her teacher. Loves being on the stage. Ofcourse, you can't see that in any of the iffy pictures I got. In fact, just about everyone in our group commented on the fact that this year she was not smiling. Whatever it was, she had the best of times with her clan. Maybe she saved all of her smiles for the end.
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