Friday Photos

The Sioux Falls Airport

Sitting here in the Sioux Falls Airport, waiting for our delayed plane to take us “home” to Denver, my mind drifts back to my first time here. It must have been some twenty-two (or so) years ago. I was standing on a window ledge at the end of a long, abandoned hallway (probably the same window ledge I sit near now--near gate 8). I stared out at the tarmac and the runway lights and craned my neck, trying in vain to catch one last glimpse of my Grandpa and Grandma as they boarded their plane. When I began to feel the tears creep up from somewhere deep inside and threaten to spill over my eyelids and down my cheeks, I must have reached up for my father's hand.

On the way home that night, Dad stopped at a truckstop just off I-29 and bought me some Rolos. He handed them to me with a promise that we would see Grandpa and Grandma soon enough.

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Less than a half hour ago, I removed my contented son from his Grandfather’s (my father's)arms. His little hands made one last exploratory grasp for Grandpa’s earlobes and cheeks and then, with a quick hug, we said our good-byes and headed for airport security. Deep in my gut, it feels a lot like that day some twenty-two years ago. Only this time, we’re the ones leaving. Grandpa and Grandma are the ones staying. And this time, there are no Rolos.

We’re grateful for a good week in Iowa. A good week with Adrian’s Grandpa and Grandma and the rest of the family. But sometimes, it’s hard to be reminded of what we (and Adrian) are missing.

Adrian Update

More video of our little boy. I'm impressed that I managed to cut thirty plus minutes down to five. You should be too. This is all from October, which was full of "firsts." He now sits, is working on eating solid foods, went in the jumper. Oh yeah, he's also huge.

The six month stats are:

• Height: 28.5". 95th percentile
• Weight: 19 lbs. 75th Percentile

In other words, my sixth month old can beat up your six month old. Probably.

A few other notes on the video:

• For some reason, I'm in most of the shots and Jill is not. This is not because I'm a more active parent (Jill is probably caring for Adrian over 90% of the time). Its so that when he's nineteen, full of resentment, and in therapy, we'll have at least some proof that his father was around.
• We do talk to our son. Quite a bit, actually. However, I hate the sound of my voice, so I've managed to cut nearly all of the adult chatter out.
  
  
  Adrian, Oct 08 from Joel Schreurs on Vimeo.

Nicaragua Vacation

Earlier this month, Jill, Adrian and I flew down to Nicaragua to spend a week with Jill's family (her brother works there as the director of Nicaragua Christian Academy). Since I've included more photos than anyone really cares to see, I'll just give a brief overview by answering the FAQs about our trip.

1. How did Adrian do on the plane?
Just fine. He slept more or less the whole way. He was actually kind of fun--people's faces would light up when they saw him, and then their smiles would get even bigger when they saw our seats were not by them. And of course, we got plenty of helpful childcare tips from complete strangers (including a flight attendant who had strong opinions about where babies should and should not be changed.)

2. Did you stay at Liam's house?
We love each other--but not that much. While Liam's two bedroom home serves its function for him and his family, it would have been a bit snug for all of us. Instead, we rented a three bedroom, three bath home just outside of San Jaun del Sur--a small village on the Pacific. Among the homes many perks were plumbing that allowed us to flush our toilet paper and showers that provided hot water without the threat of severe electrical shock.

3. What did you do?
As the pictures suggest, we sat around and read, splashed in the pool, played board games (I even let my in-laws win a game or two of Ticket to Ride), sweat, and stared at babies most of the day. San Jaun del Sur is known for its surfing--and I had brief visions of taking a few lessons--but that never materialized. I'm sure I would have dazzled them all with my sweet farmer/biker tan and cat-like agility.

4. Did you stay healthy?
Yes. Thankfully. Last time we were in Nicaragua that was not the case. All that needs to be said about that is that there are better ways to spend your vacation. Oh, while we stayed healthy, we had a close encounter with a scorpion (found one on a car seat, inches away from baby Judah's elbow) and I may have feared for my life when I was forced to drive on Nicaraguan roads while trying to keep up with my Nascar inspired brother-in-law.

Anything for Love

I like Mexican food--a lot. However, I have long been of the opinion that many of the restaurant varieties taste more or less the same. There's not a lot of exceptional Mexican food, no really bad Mexican food. You get some hot sauce, some sour cream and guac, some cheese and you're good to go.

I had this in mind last week as we ventured to one of Denver's classic tourist destination (a favorite for 36 years!)--Casa Bonita. I had heard that the food wasn't great (after I mentioned it in a sermon once, a pimple-faced seventh grader came up and said You'd be better off staying home and eating re fried beans from a can). But I figured, "How bad can it be? It's Mexican!"

It turns out I was wrong. It wasn't just bad. It was really, really, bad.

I thought for a moment that I was being taped on a Fear Factor episode. Or that I had fallen asleep and woken up in, say, Guantanamo Bay (although I think forcing someone to eat this food may violate the Geneva Conventions, so they clearly wouldn't do that there). The tortillas? Slimy. The "cheese"? Fake (generic Velveeta?). Everything else? Unidentifiable. It was an all you can eat affair, but none of us had seconds. Given the heritage and usual "thrifty" behavior of those adults gathered (me and Jill plus both sets of parents) that alone should speak volumes. Oh, the depths of human depravity that could produce such an abomination!

At the end of the meal, Jill said, "Well, on the bright side now we can say we've done it and never have to do it again." (She said something remarkably similar after finishing her Marathon a few years ago.) I heartily agreed.

But today, I realized we probably will do it again. Today, we got a wonderful postcard from my niece and nephew (the guests of honor and our excuse for going) thanking us. "We had a lot of fun", they said. And I suppose that made it all worthwhile. If another niece or nephew comes to visit--or if my own child(ren) just have to go--I suppose I'd do it again.

It's an amazing thing, I'm realizing, the lengths we will go to for those little people that we love!

fifty-one fotos.

Yes, it's a lot of pictures. But we had a greeaat weekend with with Brother John and family (Jessica, Levi, Laremy) and wanted to share.
Here's the rundown:
Saturday: National Western Stock Show and Rodeo. Yee-haw!
Sunday: Church, long naps, Denver Museum of Nature and Science, Train (Light Rail) Ride.
Monday: Duffy Rolls, Keystone (Loveland Pass, Gondola Ride, Pool), Beau Joes Pizza.
Tuesday: Up Early and out the door.

Back "Home"

After a week in Iowa, Jill and I are back "home".

At least I think that's what we're calling it now.

We're happy in Denver--we (obviosly) enjoy the many recreational opportunities, we love our jobs, enjoy lots of sunshine and our great neighborhood (complete with great coffee shops within walking distance that are probably a little too hip for us). But we're still adjusting to the idea of calling it "home."

For the first five or so years of our marraige we were always anticipating our next move (summer assignments, year long internships etc). It's taken a bit for the reality to sink in that we could be here for a long time (five years? twenty years?). It's odd enough to think about it for ourselves, but its even more strange to think that our child(ren) will call this place "home"--will say they are "from" Denver--in a way that we never can.

There are a lot of things I miss about Iowa. There's the appeal (probably easily sentimentalized) of living in a small town--of running into people you know in the grocery story and being able to ride your bike or walk almost anywhere. They beauty of the plains (you may need a trained eye to see this, but trust me, it's there). And more than anything, family.

On the bright side, however, there are a few perks about no longer living there. For one, it doesn't get "freeze-yer-booger-cold" in Denver (it was something like 2 degrees the day we left). I also don't get thirty-seven phone calls a day telling me why Mike Hackabee should/should not be president. Furthermore, if my weight gain last week was any indication, if I moved to Iowa this week I would weigh approximately 438 lbs by next Christmas (so much food!). While this would open up the possibility of me being the heaviest contestant ever on "The Biggest Loser" and would also mean that I could actually find clothes that fit at Big and Tall stores, it would also mean my new pants wouldn't fit. I like those pants. So, all things considered, it's probably best that we stay here.

On a slightly differen note, I should say that some things have changed in Iowa during fifteen months since we were last there. Some changes are good (a bookstore in Sheldon), some not so good (a Super Wal-Mart in Sioux Center), and some are just strange. In this latter category, I place the appearance of a multitude of what I formerly new as bank signs--those electronic signs that show the time, date, and some inspirational message. Well, they aren't just for banks anymore. They are everywhere. Taco Johns, Demco, the furniture store, Fanatasia Gifts, McDonalds (oh yeah, they have McDonalds now too). No one in Iowa has an excuse for not knowing the current time and temperature. Here are two examples of said signs--located within about fifty yards of each other (and I think there's another one or two just down the block).

Family Time

My parents were here this weekend--which was great. But since it wasn't the first time, and since we didn't really see much new (other than a good Vietnamese Restaurant), I didn't take any pictures. Oops.

However, my brother (Micah), his wife (Shannon), and their kids (Caleb, Joya, and Stephen) came out a few weekends ago. It was their first time out since we've lived here, and we had a great time. They managed to fit in a rather impressive amount of activities in their blitzkrieg tour of Denver. They:

• Went to the museum where Jill works (Denver Museum of Nature and Science)
• Spent time on the 16th Street Mall
• Made friends with Daisy
• Toured the Coors Brewery (where they make a depressing 1.5 million gallons of beer a day. Oh, and 14 million aluminium cans).
• Stopped by Buffalo Bill's grave
• Saw Buffalo Bill's herd
• Went to church (twice)
• Hiked at Three Sisters near Evergreen
• Toured the Denver Mint
• Visited Rocky Mountain National Park
• Visited a mechanic in Estes park (this was not a part of the plan, but Micah's van window was not cooperating)
• Ate at KFC (while previously mentioned mechanic worked his wonders)

Not bad for three and a half days! Here are the pics*


*If you're viewing this via Facebook, you'll have to click the "see original post" link to see the pictures.

Non-Bike Content

Heading out the door the other night on our way to a soccer game/fireworks, Jill told me to grab the camera. "Then you can blog about something other than bikes," she said.

Ouch.

So, in keeping with my constant desire to please my wife, no bike content here. So, what else to write about?

Hmmmmm.

Work? Nope, that violates the strict code I've established for this blog: No work allowed.

Dog? She's awesome. But I shouldn't say more. Dog-crazy people are worse (I think?) than bike-crazy people.

Grill? Still cooking. Mmmmm. Brats. They're really tasty after a good, long bik...oops. Never mind.

Jill? Better than Daisy and brats. But I don't want to write about her and give her the satisfaction (after that comment and all).*

Well, that's pretty much my life. Not sure what else there is to tell folks about life here. I guess I'll have to settle on the weather.

We've been told more than once here: "If you don't like the weather, just wait a few hours." That is, and is not, true.

Hey, is that a paradox?

It's not true because the weather here for the past several weeks has basically been hot, hot, and more hot (90-100). Of course, when I say "Hot", I'm talking about a different sort of heat than I'm used to in the midwest. It's "dry heat." It's a strange phenomenon--it can be 95 degrees out and you (or I) won't be visibly sweaty/sticky. Apparently, it just evaporates. Amazing.

At any rate. It's been hot. And dry too. However, you'd never be able to tell it by looking at our lawn. We have a sprinkler system and have caved in to pressure from our landlords to use it. So here we are, in the middle of the hot, dry, desert (ish), with a green lawn. Sheesh.

But back to the point. I haven't witnessed a whole lot of change in the big picture of Denver weather. Hot and dry pretty much sums it up.

But then again, it does change. Say the other night, when we went to the fireworks/soccer game for the 4th. (Oh, by the way, we went to a soccer game--Colorado Rapids vs. Columbus Crew. A good time was had by all. We saw mascots playing each other at halftime. But I can't write any more about soccer. It only dredges up painful memories from my youth). When we left for the game around 7:15, it was 87 degrees and the sun was blazing. Two hours later, we were shivering, wishing we hadn't left our sweatshirts in the car (that just wasn't smart. The temperature regularly drops 15- 20 degrees here in the evenings). In another twenty minutes (after the game, before the fireworks) it was raining. A lot. Then, it stopped and we got to watch the fireworks in relative peace.

The fireworks, by the way, were quite good. The show was at least a half an hour (bit of a crick in the neck) and they boasted (truthfully, I assume) having the loudest fireworks in CO. Amazing.

Back to the changing weather. This afternoon is another case in point. I was at work, catching up on some things (oops, guess I broke my code), when it suddenly got very dark outside (it was sunny and, suprise, hot). Within fifteen minutes, there was lightening cracking outside my window (almost literally), the water was pouring down, the gutters overflowing. This lasted about twenty minutes, and then Jill and I went outside on the front porch to play cribage. This time, we had our sweatshirts on. But that only lasted another twenty minutes. Then the sun came out, we got too hot, and came back inside.

Again: amazing.

That's all I have to say about the weather. That was even more boring than I feared. But I never promised it would be interesting.

If you read this all, I'm not sure if I should commend you or tell you to get a new hobby. At any rate, now when I do a very long write up of the perils I encounter on the Triple Bypass next weekend, you'll all be grateful for some bike content (or may never come back here again!)

*That, and I'm planning on doing a "Jill" post after I get more pics of her at work.

**PS: If you want to know the current weather in Denver, check out the new "Weather Pixie" on the Left Panel. He/she even changes clothes to fit with current conditions (or at least conditions within the last hour or two.)

Things I like About CO, Part II

Another thing I like about living in CO is that it's usually not too much trouble convincing others to come vacation here. A couple of weeks ago Jill and I went up near Estes Park/ Rocky Mountain National Park with my parents, sister, and her family. A good time was had by all. Here are many, many, many pictures to prove it.



P.S. Consider this an open invitation to anyone who would like to come.* We have two extra bedrooms that we're happy to fill (hint hint dear brothers).

*Well, not really anyone. But if you actually take enough of an interest in our lives to read this, chances are we like you enough that this invitation applies to you.