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Dale has attempted throughout our 7+ years in Virginia to register for the Marine Corps Marathon with no success. The registration fills too quickly each year.

He ran the Marine Corps half marathon in Fredericksburg a few years back and this year he registered for the Marine Corps 17.75k (approximately 11 miles) race through Prince William forest.

With the bitter winter we have had, he hadn’t trained for an 11 mile race, but this particular race has a most enticing carrot at the end. If you finish the race, you are guaranteed admittance into the Marine Corps marathon in October.

At 0700, Saturday morning we stood shivering in the 31 degree temperature (windchill in the teens) waiting for the race to start after the presentation of the flag by the color guard and the singing of the National Anthem.

Off Dale jogged into the bitter wind to tackle the hilly terrain throughout the forest with 2165 other shivering runners.

After taking his departure photo, I hurried back to the car to wrap myself in a blanket and thaw out with the heat and a hot cup of tea.

His goal was to finish in under 2 hours which he achieved. He was the 853rd person to finish and he was finally able to register for the marathon.

When we were younger, I used to count the number of old men and old women who finished before him in each race just to tease him a bit. Once the kids arrived on the scene, they found this activity highly amusing.

On the morning of the race, Josiah sent this inspiring text “Tell dad it’s okay if the old people beat him, because he’s one of them.”

Dale turns half a century next month and just last week received his invitation to join AARP.

Lord willing, he’ll run the Marine Corps marathon this October at the age of 50. Not too shabby for an old man.

This was Zeke’s final year of egg hunting. He took the requisite picture with the Easter Bunny, hauled in a good load of candy filled eggs, and ate an Easter cookie. He has now officially aged out of the egg hunt.

After 18 years of training my children in egg hunting tactics and surmising the most likely location of the golden egg, my egg hunt training program is now complete.

Afterwards, on our walk back home from the hunt, God blessed us with a bluebird sighting.

My daffodils have bloomed. They are ever faithful. Mr Shaw planted them years before my arrival and each spring, they are the first flower to bloom for me.

Last year, Josiah conquered the wooded area between my neighbor and me. It was completely overgrown with vinca and poison ivy. After cutting it all back, he laid cardboard down over the entire area and covered it with mulch. I was happy to get rid of the invasive plants, but was sad to bury some faithful daffodils under the cardboard.

Oh me of little faith. I should have trusted my daffodils ability to overcome. They popped up right through the cardboard.

This ladybug and I were very happy to greet our old friends.

Zeke ran in his school’s fun run for the sixth year. He has always been successful in completing 35+ laps, but having his choice for team name win the class vote continues to elude him.  He still proposes unique names, although none quite as unusual as “Chicken Gravy Superior.”

This year, I found great amusement watching route choices and race form. I have two friends who have daughters in preschool. The girls each ran their race with individual style.

The “I can do it myself” child was laser focused on her form – concentrating each lap on pumping her arms and lifting her knees in a near perfect rhythm. The “bounce, bounce, bounce” child ran her laps on her tip toes around the very edge of the track achieving more distance with more energy than anyone else.

Another child cried throughout the entire race as her Dad held her hand and walked her around the track lap after lap after lap.

Zeke was aiming for the fastest route in an attempt to achieve the highest number of laps. He soon discovered the cost of shooting for the inside lane is occasionally getting squished.

Throughout life, we find some objects irresistible. We dream of them, search for them, save up for them. Plot and scheme ways to get our hands on them.

When I was a child, the desired object was often a book, sometimes a toy, occasionally a ticket to a Barry Manilow concert. (It is sad but true that in high school, I cheered and screamed at a Barry Manilow concert.)

As an adult, books are still high on my irresistible object list. However, lately it is often a plant, shrub or rose that must be found and acquired. The search can sometimes morph into an absurd quest that I awaken from and think,”How did I get here? Is this really worth it? Am I a crazy person?” (Digging out the roses from Mom’s garden in Minnesota, shipping them to Virginia, and planting them after arriving home qualified as crazy.)

My one escape route from the irresistible object is that I am not a collector of things. I am a purger of things. “Do I really need this?” is often in my thoughts.

Collectors have a much harder time resisting the irresistible object. Gabe is a collector and the gamer industry has him in their sights. In its desire to make lots and lots of money, the industry has added collectible figurines to go along with their games. Some figures released online sell out in minutes. Other figures are released on random dates at varied stores.

Midnight last Thursday, Gabe and I found ourselves standing with the motley gamer crew at an electronics counter. We were all there searching for gold.

“There’s a fine line between a fan and a crazy person, and I think I crossed it,” Gabe remarked. “I’m standing in line at midnight for the release of a doll.”

This was his quest for the Gold Mario.