Thunderstruck

Once again this weekend I found myself in Ogden.  Last week I was running a marathon.  This week I was at an air show.  Last weekend it was hot.  This weekend it was not.  I wanted to be to Hill Air Force base in time to see the opening flag ceremony.  So I got the kids up and reminded them to dress warm, including long pants and jackets.  Of course, I should have stipulated that the girls needed socks and shoes, because as soon as we arrived on base I found that Samantha and Bean both wore shoes and no socks.  And it was raining.  And cold.

Despite the rocky start everyone had a good time.  We stayed until close, and saw all of the performances.  And we barely had time to tour all of the planes the kids wanted to see.

The main attraction for everyone was the Air Force F-16 Thunderbirds.  And while they put on a great show, I was more excited to see a P-51 Mustang and an F-16 Falcon fly side by side.  My two favorite aircraft.

Each time we were able to sit in the cockpits Patrick peppered the pilots with questions, and though he never stumped them, I did get a comment from a pilot on how astute the young man is.

At one point we had to take shelter under the tail of an A-10 as we waited for a hail storm to pass.  (Patrick even got his finger stuck in the seven barrel rotary cannon in the nose of that same A-10).  Once the weather cleared it warmed up nicely, and we had perfect conditions for the Thunderbird presentation.

I tried my best to get good footage of the show, but I was painfully reminded of how hard it is to keep your hands steady while zooming in for good close-ups.  If you vomit while watching the video, I am sorry.

Of course, when we entered the hangar to look at the displays, Mr. P zeroed right in on the guns.

The performances were grand, with stalls, 4-point and 8-point rolls and barrel rolls all executed to perfection.  And of course we had the pleasure of seeing my good friends with AirMed.  A good time was had by all, and we will definitely be going back next time.

Paddy's Party

It's hard to believe that my little boy is ten years old now.  This week we celebrated his birthday with a family party, as well as a friends party at Classic Skate.

When asked what kind of cake he wanted, Patrick told Kate to get a 'girlie' one.  So she did.  She got a nice princess cake, complete with a crown.  Of course, the cake was addressed to 'Bub', as he is now known.

He was given some great gifts, the best of which are those that are able to be assembled and disassembled.  Like the science kit Grandpa Stretch got him.  If he has toys like that which are intended to be monkeyed with, he is less likely to take apart things that he shouldn't touch, like my Jeep.

He had a great party at Classic Skate.  But every party needs a pooper, which is why we invited Samantha.  She fell in the bounce house, taking a nice chunk of her tongue out.  But at least she didn't break her leg in there, like Bean did several years earlier.

The cake Kate got for the friends party was addressed to Paddy, which is what his friends call him.  However, he told his mom that she spelled it wrong.  I guess he prefers the feminine form of Patty to the Irish form.

In some respects it is hard to watch my boy grow up.  Like any parent, I want him to stay young, the elvish little imp that he has been.  But it has been fun to watch him find his own interests and make his own circle of friends.  I enjoy watching him play flag football.  I don't enjoy searching for him when he takes off on his bike and does not tell me where he is going.  I have to remember that I did the same thing when I was his age. 

The last ten years have gone by quickly.  I hope the next ten don't go by as fast...

Happy Birthday, Mr. P