Rat and Mouse recently tagged along on a trip to Bath, England while Ryan and Jennifer were visiting from the States.

We had a great time, but Rat and Mouse were really confused by the accents.

Rat and Mouse love looking at giants from far away lands. Man these people are tall.

From this point forward Rat and Mouse will affectionately be referred to as “RaM”. They’ve had their first outing.

Adventure #1 Caption:

Rat and Mouse spend the morning with the new swans hoping to not be mistaken for old, crusty bread.

Cheers.

Four foot nine and you know who.
She does everything the big boys do.
Double backs that reach the sky;
There is nothing that she won’t try.

Wheeties cereal commercial 1984 still remembered by me

As the Olympics come to a close, I must pay homage to my childhood hero, gymnast Mary Lou Retton. Already into gymnastics before the games, the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics spurred my love for gymnastics even deeper. All because of Mary Lou. Who else would inspire me to get my hair cut really short and never thereafter, but Mary Lou? (I found out later on that my mom secretly cried because she thought I looked like a boy). I collected all of the Wheeties boxes with her on it when I didn’t even like Wheeties. I ordered the official commemorative Olympic leotard with much of my allowance money (later to be disappointed because the stripes weren’t exactly the same width as those on Mary Lou’s leotard). I begged my dad (and he so kindly did) to make miniature wooden apparatus for my barbies and little orphan annie doll with miniature leotards made by mom. I read Mary Lou’s biography many times and even kept a Tyson chicken cookbook with her featured on it. I didn’t even cook! I can even still remember the precision I took in posing for this picture trying to make my hands positioned just like hers. And of course I taped the Wheeties commercial with her featured to watch over and over and memorize.

Because of Mary Lou many years were spent dedicated to gymnastics. Many afternoons were lived at the gym practicing until I entered high school and knew I was never going to amount to Olympic quality.

So every four years when it is Olympic time, a flood of memories rushes through my mind as I recall that great summer of 1984. The summer of Mary Lou. And you can bet that when my kids were at gymnastics class this week, I longed for a moment where I could just run out onto the floor and relive those great gymnastics years.

Harper had her face painted at church Sunday. She liked it.

Brooks did not.

Many of you know the feeling come September. For weeks (or maybe months) you think about sitting in your favorite chair or sofa, turning the TV on, and hearing the familiar sounds of college football. Well, we don’t have college ball here in the UK, but come July we have daily live coverage of cycling’s greatest event…Le Tour de France! Just like the rain is a regular fixture in Wales, so has been the daily watching of Le Tour de France, or “Tour de Paw” as Brooks coined last year. Now, I do have to clarify before I go on that I do not nor have I ever got excited about college football starting and I’m not really all that excited about Tour de France. But, since Brad gets so happy, I tend to think I am as well. And this coverage is not your average American Saturday half to one hour coverage highlight tucked into the unwatched hours of 2-2:30pm. It is live coverage of every race at every stage with another highlight recap narrated by Phil Ligget in the evening. And Brad just loves it. This is probably what gives him the motivation to get out of bed in the morning when day after day is full of rain in July and something tells him, “It should be sunny and hot.”And I know this is what gives him the motivation to wear those tight legging pants and ride all over South Wales on his racing bike.

And for me. Well, every year it brings me back to my youth and memories of my dear brother, Paul, who will undoubtedly receive a phone call reminding him of what he used to do for the “love of the tour”. Long before Lance Armstrong made Le Tour popular amongst Americans, my brother faithfully awaited July in the 1980′s and that half hour/hour highlight special shown each weekend. And he didn’t just sit and watch….he became the tour. He donned his cycling cap, got his water bottle filled up, moved the stationary bicycle in front of the television and while watching, started to pedal and pedal. He became the tour. If it was an especially lucky year he would tape record the TV coverage and watch it back, or better yet listen to it taped on earphones….and he would cycle. King of the Mountains! He became the tour. Just think what it was like in our household when my mom got her hands on a copy of John Tesh official Tour de France music? Over the years, my brother’s interest in the tour greatly diminished, but this yearly event for me serves as a wonderful reminder to the creativity and greatness of my brother, Paul, who became the tour.

Julie