Sorry no pictures...I brought the digital camera home from work but forgot the memory card. D-uh!
Friday night we had a great time listening to our friend Fred's bluegrass band, the Whistlepigs (see link on right). I have played music with Fred and bandmate Joel, but I had never seen the full band perform. They play a mix of straight bluegrass, bluegrassed contemporary tunes, and even some very impressive original stuff. They were playing at the Highway 61 Folks Fest in Mahtowa, MN, a fairly laid back outdoor festival with a small but enthusiastic audience.
I wanted to go back to see more of the festival on Saturday, especially the singer songwriter contest, but I couldn't let any more of the weekend slip by without getting caught up on chores i.e. watering the garden (first priority--it's been so dry!), laundry, and even doing the dishes. Russ has been working so hard on the new house, and friends and neighbors have been stopping by to help out, so there hasn't been time for him to do much else. The entire framing for the first floor, at least the important, load-bearing stuff, is almost complete!
Nina is now riding her bike without training wheels. This came as news to me Saturday night; her older brother Vincent apparently taught her. She picked it up fairly easily, just like he did, except she had a swollen eyebrow. "I kind of ran into the swingset," she said, "But I'm okay!"
But alas, the weekend was not complete without a Sunday evening visit to the emergency room. Vincent and Joe had been riding their bikes in the driveway, while Russ and I were admiring the work on the new house, when we heard a crash, then a cry from Joe. The back of his head was bleeding. Apparently they had collided and it was the pedal of Vincent's bike that got Joe. Vincent was very upset and sorry about the whole thing immediately; I felt as badly for him as I did for Joe. I knew it wasn't that bad, though, because Joe was conscious and not feeling like he was in shock. He was crying on the way to the ER, I think not from pain as much as worry about going to the hospital. Once we got there, though, he was himself and talking nonstop; again, I think that was part nervousness at the situation. He received eight staples in a V-shaped cut about 2 inches long. Poor little guy! I was impressed with the staff at the ER of Mercy Hospital in Moose Lake. They were very good with Joe, very nice to us (I thought I'd get a lecture on bike helmets and a referral to the authorities!) and very quick; we were there maybe an hour or less.
One hilariously funny thing though, and one I'll always remember. When the nurse came in and started chatting with Joe, one of the first things he asked her was "What's your phone number?" The kid is 3 and a half years old! Hope Dad hasn't been putting him up to that...
I've been out in the field at work today, so not much time to post. I hope to post more tomorrow!