In Which I Make a Prediction

It's been pretty well established that I think Gabe's temperament, personality, and love of action make him a clear candidate for daredevilry or stunt manry when he grows up. But I don't think I've made any predictions for Norah's future so far. Yesterday gave me cause to throw my lot once more into the predicting pool.

Future Norah, dear. You're going to want to go ahead and skip this post. You are almost certainly not going to like what you see here. Just remember, hon, this is all in good fun. I don't REALLY think you're going to grow up to be a caber tosser (but you have to admit, based on the evidence I'm presenting, you certainly look like you'll make a fine one).

Yeah, that's right, I said caber tosser.

For a few years, Libby's family was REALLY into the Scottish scene. They were all tartan this and haggis that and Robert Burns the other. Her brother and sister did highland dancing, and her folks did some dancing too. I can't remember what it was called. "Traditional" dancing. As I remember, it was like square dancing except EVERYONE wore dresses. Anyway, while they were doing all this stuff, Libby and I occasionally joined them at Scottish festivals here and there, and it was at these festivals that I was first exposed to the caber toss.

For those unfamiliar with the sport (I really wanted to put that word in quotes, but then I thought about it--really, what could be MORE demanding than picking up and throwing a telephone pole for distance? That deserves to be called a sport more than just about anything else) . . . . Oh. I just described it in my parentheses. Guess I can't finish that sentence outside of it now. Poor planning on my part.

Yesterday, we had some friends over and the kids played around in the yard. It was almost 90 degrees and miserably hot (in contrast, today is going to be around 50, cloudy, and windy, and it got down to about freezing last night--gotta love Kansas weather). Because the kids were getting a bit overheated, Libby suggested we get out the sprinkler for them to play in. I will do a separate post about all of that tomorrow, though, because it really kind of descended into a sort of disaster.

Before they got into the water, Libby half-stripped the kids, so some of their clothes wouldn't get wet (which would end up being a fruitless venture since they both kept coming outside in fresh clothes and heading back to the mess they made with the sprinkler--I think they both went through like three sets of clothes last night.

And I got these pictures.

I mean, come on! Having some background in Scottish stuffs, how could I NOT think she looked like a caber tosser?

I will leave it at that for today, but after about ten minutes of playing in the sprinkler, things got much messier, and we got some more photos and pictures to share. I'll cover that tomorrow. And by "tomorrow," I mean whenever I remember to sit down and post about it sometime soon.