Of warm fuzzy's and He-Man

My little sisters always do such a great job of telling stories of my little brother Cameron. Their words make him come alive in my mind. All one needs do is peruse either of their blogs (Jil - Becca) and is is easy to find these wonderfully written narratives.

Historically, I have not written anything on his birthday. This is not because I am not thinking about him, quite the contrary (I spend most Dec 10th's on the verge of tears) it is because I do not have the emotional fabric to try to put to words how deeply I miss him with out losing it...

That said (and after a good cry already) I am could not help but wanting to try to put words to one of my favorite memories of him this year. My brother grew to be a tough whip of a man physically, tall and thin but tough as nails. Yet that is not how I remember him. My favorite memories of my little brother are from when he WAS little, specifically when he was about seven. He, Weston and I would spend hours down in his little room in our house on Dale Drive playing Masters of the Universe. Though both Weston and I had larger rooms we always played in Cameron's. He had such an energy and love of fun that we were drawn to him. He would spin the most elaborate tales and adventures that we would act out. Many of them involved defeating the "fire monster" in his closet (i.e. the furnace) or the demon he saw in the plaster swirls on his ceiling.

Both Weston and I eventually moved on in our interests as we aged and have since turned into boring men. Not to say the Cameron didn't mature, but he somehow kept that wonderment he had as a boy that made him so appealing to play with. Nothing drove this point home more fully for me than a few days after his funeral. As we were going through his possessions a shoe box was found that was full of all of his old He-Man toys. He had kept them and now I have given them to my boys. As I watch them play and run and scream around the house with these muscle-bound plastic men I see my little brother again, and I smile. Now they "... Have the power!"

Happy Birthday Cameron. I miss you!

Fishing?

I have gotten back into fishing again lately. More specifically I have gotten back into fly fishing lately. This last week I was out on the Boise river and had quite the eclectic catch for the day:
- 3" white fish
- 10" German brown trout
- 6 oz. bat



It hissed at me when it touched the headlight, thus the reaction.

(I took hold of my strike indicator right at dusk, if your were curious.)

Unjust Vilification

This may sound petty for a blog, particularly as I have not written anything in the last four months, but I feel compelled to stand and defend myself. A certain wonderful person, who will remain nameless, has taken it upon herself to portray me as a spineless woosie who she delights in tricking into kissing children who have been licking toilet brushes.

I want to take this opportunity to say that she is the best person I know and I am lucky to have married her, but I feel I must stand for my honor.

First, there is nothing wrong with eating a hotdog for breakfast. At least I didn’t wrap it in bacon! Thought I have had the bacon dog before (thanks to Stan’s hot dogs on the bench) and it was most tasty.

Second, I may be a bit vocal about my impending doom when I am ill but it is only done as an act of self preservation. Actual recent sick time conversation:

Me at the dinner table: “Honey, I don’t feel well.”

Mrs. Wonderful: “Suck it up.”

Me: “I think I am going to throw up.”

Parker: “Mom, McKay is bugging me.”

Mrs. Wonderful: “You probably ate too much junk food.”

McKay singing: “Rudolf the red nose…”

I get up and walk around the corner to the half bath.

Parker: “Stop it McKay!”

Mrs. Wonderful: “Parker let her sing!”

Me retching violently in the back ground for ten minutes.

Parker: “McKay, stop it!”

I hobble back to the living room, obviously spent from my intestinal battle.

Mrs. Wonderful: “Where have you been?”

Me: “Did you not hear me? I was throwing up.”

Mrs. Wonderful: “What, are you bulimic now too?”

Me: “I love you.”

Mrs. Wonderful: “Why does it stink over here?”

Third, as she stated “Davis men spoil the women in their lives. I think they are amazed that not only did we pick them, but we also stick with them.” All that I have to say to that is…yes. I am amazed that she has stuck with me for almost nine years now (thank you sweetie).

Lastly, the toilet brush thing was just mean.