Well, we made it! It's

another year under our belts, along with a few extra pounds, thanks to

The Wife's great cooking and her special super-deluxe pineapple pound

cake.

About this time each year,

lots of folks stand up and pontificate about the countless things they

want to accomplish in the coming year and the many items left undone from

the last. Newspaper journalists, TV newscasters, and even those radio

talk show hosts will write about and babble endlessly on the subject,

so why should I be any different?

Guess the most important thing

that has happened in the last 12 months around our house is that we're

all still here. A little worse for wear, maybe, but we're still here.

Ranking right up with that major accomplishment was The Boy turning 16,

getting a car and starting to drive. As safe a driver as he is, many of

my hairs have been lost since then, but the worry lines I've gained

more than make up for the loss. He'll be a senior this fall, which

means just one more year of high school and ten more football games then

it's off to the hallowed halls of academia at some faraway university.

No worries, though. There's still a way to go before I unleash him

unto the world. Trust me; the world's not ready yet.

This year The Boy says he'll

bring down all his dirty clothes and not let them pile up for a month.

He promises that his room will stay clean, and he'll finally get

rid of that science project over in the corner. That was something I was

thankful to hear. Last week that fuzzy purple and green science project

snarled at me.

He says he will let me pay

for his two football camps this summer and his new computer this fall.

He's such a nice and thoughtful boy. Yes, it's only 18 months,

two weeks and three days 'til he's off to college and must start

to fend for himself. Not that I'm counting, mind you.

Our trip to Colonial Williamsburg

July 4 was the highlight of The Wife's and my year. Being a high

school history teacher, she was right at home amongst all of the old brown

buildings and dusty cobblestone streets. For five days, we walked the

same streets as our forefathers, talked to historians and experienced

how life was in the early days of our country. When it was time to leave,

The Wife didn't want to go. She was still excited and wanted to see

more. I was just tired. Five days of walking on cobblestones was a lot

for a little firefighter.

I did learn something very

important on our trip to Colonial Williamsburg, something I will never

forget. Seeing how the men and women lived day to day way back then, I

figured that I would have lasted about 30 minutes.

With another year gone, we

can now plan for our next summer vacation. Maybe we'll go