Ode to the Truck

So something really exciting has happened around here as of late: we paid off Nate's truck. And it's kind of a big deal for us. So as such, I would like to make a tribute to said truck. There's no name for the truck or anything, or else this post would be titled "Ode to [name]" but since Nate's not really the kind of guy to name a thing, and because he wouldn't let me name it "Crawl the Warrior King" ($1.00 for anyone who can name that movie reference), this is just going to be an "Ode to the Truck."

Despite loathing forking over the monthly payment each month for the truck, it's actually been a really good truck for us. We've spent lots of weekends in it driving up to, and all around northern Arizona.

It's taken us on many adventures from fishing to camping, to hunting, to hiking, to watching fireworks on the 4th of July, to playing in the snow.

It's hauled quads, and boats, and kayaks (oh my)

It was even the first vehicle in which our dogs learned how to drive

I'm kidding, of course. Dogs can't drive vehicles because that would be unsafe and very dangerous. They mostly just hang out in the back, real talk:

Nate's truck has been both functional, and, well, functional. It's carried our whole family up to Sedona for our annual holiday trip, it's carried the dogs in the bed when the cab gets too full, it's gotten a little blood on it from time to time, and it's even made a heck of a bench for spontaneous happy hours

Ironically, both Duck Commander wines. But that's because we always stop at the Walmart in Payson and they're the only ones I've seen carry the Duck Commander wine so whenever I see it I just feel like I need to buy it. Then again, whenever I see wine in general I feel like I need to buy it sooooo...

Heck, it even fits all four of us should the occasion ever arise when the four of us need to be in the front cab of the truck...

The truck has celebrated the holidays with us, carrying numerous Christmas trees home with us and even managing to be part of our family Christmas photos

Truck cleans up nice eh?

Rain, snow, sleet (what's that, really?) sunshine or...mostly sunshine, the truck has been there and gotten us through it all

And now it's technically and legally ours.

Don't break down on us now, truck...I'm pretty sure all our warranties are expired so, I'm serious.

In hindsight, why I have so many pictures of Nate's truck, I have no idea. But it made for a good blog post right?

I Love Baseball and Here's Why

Hi hello it's me, dropping in for a Father's Day post. I realize I haven't blogged in like, a month. But I got the itch to post for Father's Day. Truth is, I've had this post in mind for a long time but haven't taken the time to sit down and write it out so I figured what better occasion than on the day we celebrate Dads?!

Anyone who knows me knows I love baseball; the Diamondbacks, in particular. And I love baseball because my dad loves baseball.

Arizona got a Major League baseball team in 1998 when the Diamondbacks arrived in downtown Phoenix. I was an 11 year old kid and remember my dad, a season ticket holder, taking my sister and me to games. I remember him trying to teach me the rules of the game, and how to catch a fly ball (which, is really hard and very scary ok?). I never played baseball or softball or anything (hence, the inability to catch a fly ball), but I became a fan of the game because my dad was a fan of the game. And when I think about the game of baseball it makes me think of him. Which is why I hold the game, and the Dbacks so close to my heart - cause they remind me of my dad.

I'm reminded of my dad when I think about the 2001 World Series the Dbacks won, when he told me over and over again that the 1-2 punch of Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling doesn't come around very often in life and that we were watching something special and needed to remember it. He was right. We were. And I did.

I'm reminded of my dad when I think about how the Dbacks haven't been to the play-offs in years and had the worst record in Major League Baseball last year; I think about him telling me, "Rissa, you're not a real fan unless you're still a fan when they're losing." I've kept that small piece of wisdom with me in all my fandoms (after all, Arizona sports hasn't been the easiest to watch in the last few years).

My dad was the first person I texted after my girlfriends and I ran into Luis Gonzalez at a football game and got to meet him and take a picture with him.

My dad has taught me a lot not only in life, but also in baseball. He told me once that, you don't know the game of baseball until you know the infield fly rule. So you bet I did my homework to ensure I knew the infield fly rule in case it ever came up in casual conversation with friends or family (cause the rules of baseball come up often in social settings?). OPS, ERA, RBI, Designated Hitter - I learned them all from my dad. Greg Schulte on the radio, purple and teal, baseball in November - they all make me think of my dad.

The game of baseball isn't most people's favorite; it's too slow, not enough action, takes too long, are often the things I hear. But I see it as methodical, intentional, and analytical - just like my dad. If something's not working you make an adjustment - just like my dad does. For nine innings you chip away at your purpose, your end goal - just as my dad has for his whole life and in raising a family. He's taught me that you might get some grass stains or some dirt on you along the way but hey, it builds character! So in the same way my dad has instilled a love for baseball in me, so to has he instilled a love for life in me.

Happy Father's Day daddy, you da man!