For their 4-H genealogy project, Signa and William created reports.  I am trying to figure out how to share William's, but here is Signa's:

Signa Felt by Signa Mascot

Dear Big Stink,

Today is your sixth birthday and you are such a little man now.  Our constant mantra this year has been, “Think before you act!”  But you just can’t seem to master that impulse control quite yet.  In fact, it’s so rare for you to think first that you will actually announce it at times.  “I *WAS* going to jump from that table to that chair, but I thought before I acted!” 

You surprise me in the things you are drawn to (besides trouble).  You love to help people and you love to get hugs and tickles.  You love babies so much that you will stop and say how cute one is no matter where we are.  You play really well with all the older kids we are with, but also equally as well with little ones.  I love how gentle you can be.

Your Kindergarten year was wonderful.  You excel at ever subject and are actually finishing up first grade work at this point.  You pick things up very quickly and then move them further forward, concept-wise in your head.  Amazes me how well you do this.  I wish they could bottle some of that for me.

Your video games are a huge love this year.  You love the Lego games for the PlayStation- Harry Potter, Star Wars, Batman, etc.  You have a Skylander’s game that you also love with figures that you collect.  Very over my head, but brings you much joy, so that is all that matters.

Your big announcement being six years old this morning is that you can now go into Signa’s top bunk.  There is apparently a sticker up there that says you must be six to go on the top bunk.  Apparently, Signa has held that over your head (figuratively and literally) for the past four years.  Today, my little man, you may go into the top bunk.  Enjoy!

We love you more and more every single day and are excited to watch you learn to think before you act over the next few years.

Love you, Bubbinator!

-Momma

This morning the family had the sad news of the passing of our cousin.  My dad's first cousin, Bruce William Burbidge, passed away. 

I didn't know Bruce well- I remember meeting him at my aunt's home several years ago.  I'm sure I'd met him before then, too, but likely when there were  a lot of people (i.e. kids) around and I didn't care about the adults.  Anyway, Bruce was in the US Army and I know lived in Germany for a long while.  I'm not even sure where he lived at his death- South Dakota possibly?  I will learn this, though.

I know it's the cycle of life, but Bruce was just this baby to me last August when I scanned pictures at Grampa's.

Bruce, Bob, and Peggy (Felt)

Bruce and Peggy (Felt)

And now he is gone.


Bruce William Burbidge
b. 30 Aug 1944, Hot Springs, Fall River County, South Dakota

d. 18 Mar 2012

Today is my “little” brother’s birthday and I wanted to wish him a happy birthday and tell him how proud I am of him.  

He has managed to not only be an awesome brother (despite early childhood issues where I wasn’t sure I was going to survive big-sisterhood...), but he’s also an awesome dad with two great sons.  

Oh, and never mind what a terrific Unkee he is to Signa and Will.

So this post is for my awesome brother on his birthday.

Love,

Debbie (your sister)

I have a new morning game.  Ever since we were sick for three straight weeks, I can’t seem to get enough sleep.  I refuse to set the alarm, but instead of waking chipper at my normal 5:30-6:00 am, I’m waking groggy and grumpy at 6:30.  Well, 6:27 am to be exact.  And that is when the game starts.

I can’t get up at 6:27.  It has to be even.  So I get to sleep for 3 more minutes.  But what happens?  I over sleep by 5 minutes.  So now it’s 6:35.  I can’t get up at 6:35.  It has to be 6:45.  10 more minutes of sleep.

But then I oversleep that and it’s suddenly 7:10 and I have to race around to get ready.

Crazy.  Tomorrow I’m just sleeping.  And sleeping and sleeping.

On March 20, 1941, against his own wishes, Phil Giadone was drafted into the United States Army.  It was World War II and he was sent to Hawaii and shipped out to Java just a day or so before Pearl Harbor was attacked on the morning of December 7, 1941.  In the nick of time- a theme in Phil's military life.  In Java, he ran the motor pool, once even driving Doolittle Jr.

He was transferred to the Air Force (I think it was the Air Force...) in Java and ran the motor pool for the artillery division.  Java was part of the Dutch East Indies conquest.  Because it had rubber and oil, it was valuable to Japan, who was cut off from all resources.  Japan has no native source of oil, so once President Franklin Delano Roosevelt froze all of Japan’s assets and embargoed all oil in July of 1941, they needed a new country to get oil.  Japan took control of Java and the other islands early in 1942. 

Phil was part of the last exodus.  Japanese air raids had become morning routine.  Every day at the same time, the sirens would start and the soldiers would run for the jungle.  One day, instead of running to the jungle for cover, Phil ran for the airport and got out before the bombing trapped him.  In the nick of time.  He spent the rest of his time in Australia running a motor pool.

In 1945, his term was up and he thought he was going home but he was shipped to Arizona and had to wait to August 1945 before he was allowed home to California.

Phil is Marc’s first cousin, once removed, although he has always been more like a grandfather to us.  Phil recently had a bout of shingles, which for a 92-year-old is not an easy thing.  But he was released from the hospital yesterday and off to an interim home.  We hope to have him back to his own home within a few weeks- he just has t o get his strength back.  Phil’s a good person, a fun person AND a veteran!  So today, I honor him (as I do all days). 

I woke this morning too early (forgot to change the clock in the bedroom...) and when I checked my emails, I had a CNN breaking news that Joe Frazier had died.  I never liked boxing or followed it one bit, but my cousin Jeff and I spent a lot of time talking about Joe Frazier. 

For a time, we lived with my aunt and uncle and their three boys.  During this time, about 11 years old, I was obsessed with my tape recorder- you know, the old rectangular kind with big buttons.  Pressing PLAY and RECORD at the same time brought magic.  I had signs that said, “Shhhhh.  Taping,” that I’d pin on the door.  I had a microphone that I would interview people with.  My cousins and brother and I would do skits.

Jeff’s specialty was doing the sports casting for our news show.  He was 11 months younger than me and the funniest kid around.  I would do serious news in a manly voice and it would make no sense.  But Jeff would do an impeccable impersonation of Howard Cosell and yet spin it to make it hilarious.  He could also do President Jimmy Carter.  The best was when he did both.

“Ha-i.  I’m President Jimmy Carta.”  “I’m Howard Cosell.”

Then he’d call a fight between Mohamed Ali and Joe Frazier as both and I’d nearly wet my pants laughing.  Once, he had a bird fly in and bite Joe Frazier on the neck.  “And he died.”

Really, can it get any funnier?  Not to an 11-year-old with an amazing cousin.

So thanks, Joe Frazier, for whatever it was you did in boxing AND  for the good times we had with birds biting you on the neck until death.