the year is...

2011.  my people have spread out across the land taking shelter in the remaining mountains.   most of our mountains were destroyed when the gontha came to mine our planet for coal......

we need to cast a horse voice

 myra's song two or so posts down borrows a quote or two from the score of the hit movie, spirit.


the casting intern:  "what about matt damon?"

his mama's son

i came into the room one day where diana and shiloh were.  she was singing him a song.  and he started singing back.  just long high notes.  i was only slightly embarrassed that he wasn't harmonizing and mostly grateful that we've been blessed with such great, healthy children.  and if we are ever blessed with poor health i'll learn to be grateful for that too.

shiloooooooha

and behold.

last chance before the tonsilectomy

myra is going to have a tonsilectomy and there's a small, small chancer her voice will be slightly changed.  so get a listen while you can. 

if you know your kid movies you might recognize one of her main influences - especially toward the end.

here's to myra not snoring anymore!

it's a point of what???

so how come you didn't leave a comment telling us what your super powers are?

it's a point of pride...but really, it shouldn't be.

diana sat in mrs. williamson's 4th grade class studying the palms of her hands.  no one else knew what was about to happen.  but as soon as jennifer finished her report, the whole class would know...

they would know what only diana had known for the past three days.  those hands.  those thin, small hands --which would have begun to look like raccoon paws to anyone else, if they had stared at them all morning.  but diana didn't care what they looked like.

"...and my dad said i could bring it home with me." {pause}
"is that all, jennifer?"
"yeah."
"thank you jennifer!"

then there was silence.  not a lot, but more than diana could take.


she was the first to clap.  and she clapped and clapped and clapped until she was the last one clapping.  she would have stopped sooner but she wasn't convinced everyone had noticed her amazing ability to clap louder than a grown-up.  she settled into her chair, thrilled that another presentation was about to start.
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come on!!!!!  you know what i'm talking about.  we all have them.  those secret, pet talents that we don't talk about -- well, unless something vaguely related comes up in conversation.  then you're all too eager to share your amazing ability to blow saliva bubbles or spot wildlife from the freeway.

as a kid you're unashamed.  perfectly proud of what you can do.  then in the between years you have a couple awkward experiences and you become a little more reserved about your super powers (granted for some, those between years come a little late).  then, as an adult you realize although it's still uncool to brag about yourself, some people find clever ways of showcasing their watermelon-cutting skills at the party without seeming too self-promoting. 

and that's when it hits you...like a big st. bernard covered in mud, running through your whole house (and of course the dog is dragging a dog house with the leash around its neck, which indiscriminately destroys everything - not unlike superman through the hull of an oceanliner).  and also, the dog runs right by you at the end of the scene and the dog house hits you full-on, but it doesn't destroy you it just makes you pop up into the air like a warm piece of toast.

so did it hit you? 

yes, that's when it hits you...you will NEVER get a good chance to use your pet talent.  you will never win $250 and a trip to vermont on where in the world is carmen sandiego? even though you memorized all those national geographic board game questions.  and you will never record claps for the beatles or the shins.  no one will walk into the lecture hall and yell, "is anyone a doctor? or better yet, can anyone blow saliva bubbles?!!!!!"  and well, i guess you already knew cutting watermelon wouldn't save gotham city.

and so you begin to find ways to share your talents.  until you're syndrome from the incredibles.
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okay, enough about me...for now.  what are your super powers?

it's a fisher cat

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisher_%28animal%29

how's this for an update?

and sometimes you see one of these in the northern u.s. or maybe canadia. any guesses?


hey you guys. while you're thinking about that... i looked over at diana's mac and she was on blosgpot . com. ha ha ha har ha h a ah ah ahaha aha ahaha ha. oh blosgpot!
seriously, who sits down at their computer thinking, "[sigh] hmm... time for another days work. what typos can i capitalize on today? what websites can i create to show 1 in 1,000,000 people who will accidentally type my new url into their browser? and then since most people will just type in the correct address right away.....what website will get 1/100ths of a person to actually click on something on my highly suspicious site? hmmm? wait, how about borderz . com in case somebody thinks that bookstore spells its name with a z? yes, that'll do it. [long pause. opens a pepsi can] wow, i love my job."
i mean seriously, who sits down at their computer and thinks all that? weirdo.

shiloh tanoa palmer

we just got home from the hospital. it's my birthday (martin) and i'm thrilled we can spend it this way. diana is doing really well and true to form, is going to have a ridiculously fast recovery.

both our moms got to be there with us. it was really nice. paia just barely missed the delivery but she was there for the first moments. she helped us with his samoan name which is an expression of our faith and gratitude as well as a reminder to all our loved ones. we hope every time our loved ones see him or think of his middle name, they'll remember the significance of his middle name and be motivated to do what may be hardest for them, but will bring so much relief and peace.

all our family in the area have been very helpful and supportive. candy took some pics for all ye to see.

he's pretty mild. we finally got some visible moore genes. in natural light you can see how much blonde hair he has. his eyebrows and eyelashes are blonde. i was super blonde when i was born too; so we'll see (-martin).

the girls are so excited!!!! they love him already. they want to hold him all the time.

in the picture where myra and wren are sitting in a chair by each other, myra looked at wren's sandals and said, "ohhh, look at his cute little feeet!"

our physicians marlin christianson and dr. slater were awesome!!! all the christiansons are like family to us and they are family by marriage. marlin let me "deliver" shiloh. after two natural births diana chose the epidural just for the experience. and she did so well.

and we had some great great nurses at uvrmc. shoutout to mae christensen (whom we got to see). even though they had twice the number of births, they were all so cheerful and nice. thanks to everyone.

hugs.

birds, beaks, bones

hi everyone. my album is done and ready. thanks to everyone who helped! brandon moore, adam and darcie sanders, dave shumway, emily melander, and my diana. i don't think i have, but if i've momentarily spaced someone, thanks!!! so, i gave away a few cds because i just like to give things to people when i can. but now i've got to ask for a ten dollar donation to cover manufacture and mailing. just email me your address at martinpalmer(at)gmail. i hope you like the album; i hope it makes you smile and maybe even in a few places you might laugh. and sometimes you might feel so happy you text me, asking how you can pay me an extra ten dollars.
hugs.

five o clock shadow

wren was sitting on my lap yesterday.  she turned around to face me and felt my jaw.  she seemed interested, a little surprised.  and said, "you a porcupine."

2 years of wren

wren is almost 2 years old. myra just turned 4 this past week. some more snapshots from Christmastime.

adam and darcie and kjell

my sister darcie asked me to take these to hang in their new baby noelle's room.

pretend

i'm sure in the halls of homage to fathers there are volumes and volumes of a similar sentiment. it's something about his strength. and it's metaphoric as much as it is literal. the good dad is constant, a pillar, and he's strong.
well, myra must not know about those halls and the homage she should be writing. i'm pretty sure of this because she regularly reaches up to grab my arm and swing from it, saying, "dad, pretend you're strong."
who told myra i wasn't strong? or is it that after 26 swings from my arm, i crush her sense of security, with "okay, no more swinging; i'm tired."

what a weakling.