I thought it was just going to be an adventure for Cooper and I, but Kelly and Ellery joined us for what turned out to be a driving, sighting, eating, and playground adventure. By the way, Ellery picked up two new nicknames today: Elle’s Bells and Beaner. (Can you figure out the provenance of each? One is decidedly easier than the other.)

Here’s a little background information about the big guy from maisonbisson.com:

PITTSBURGH – How can you find the Cadet Restaurant in Kittanning? The question is: How can you miss it, what with the 30-foot-tall cowboy standing out front on Route 422 wearing what looks to be a 10,000-gallon hat and holding a hamburger that looks like a quarter-tonner?

Customers “go by the cowboy,” says owner George Morda. “They like that.” Morda, who started the business northeast of Pittsburgh in 1952, met this big boy at the 1962 Chicago restaurant show and decided to buy him for $3,900.

As the fiberglass statue helped rope in diners, it acquired the nickname “Cowboy Sam” from Sam the police officer, who patrolled the popular drive-in lot the restaurant ran at the time.

Alas, one foggy morning in, Morda believes, 1978, the big man in white was felled by a Ford Bronco that was smashed into by a loaded coal truck coming from Indiana, Pa.

Sam’s broken body lay behind the restaurant, the subject of some pranks by local students who’d “borrow” his hat or his whole head.

But some Cadet customers eventually pieced Sam together again, and they finally stood him back up by crane in 2002. The traveling public, who still tend to stop and snap pictures and buy 50-cent postcards, couldn’t have been happier. Nor could Morda, who says, Sam “helped me out tremendously in my business,” increasing it by 20 percent or so. “That’s what he’s there for.”

The cowboy is great. He lived up to all my expectations, but I think Cooper was a little scared of the big guy. We went inside the cafe for an early dinner. Of course, I had to get their signature dish: the “Poor Boy,” which is essentially a double cheese burger.

After dinner, we tested the GPS to see what kind of Points-Of-Interest it had to offer. We ended up at a community park in Kittanning, PA. The park was pretty desolate, and its hard to understand how a town like that is still sustaining itself, but Cooper had a great time running around.

You can see more picture at our flickr account: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thedahlpod/sets/72157617661502652/

We are going to see The Gruffalo (a play) with Cooper and some friends tomorrow (Sat, Feb. 28, 2009).

It will be Cooper’s first play and I’m looking forward to it.

I’ll try to follow up with a review and maybe some pics.

Tall Stories, a children’s theater company from England, stages The Gruffalo, a musical adventure set in the deep, dark woods. It’s adapted from the award-winning book of the same name by Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler. A mouse, one of the characters in the play, uses tall tales about the enormous Gruffalo, a monster-like character, to scare danger away. But what happens when he encounters the Gruffalo in the rough and real? This musical is brought to you by Pittsburgh International Children’s Theater; it’s best for ages 3 and older. [ via: WQED ]

I finally got around to baking some bread based on the techniques in “Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day” (Jeff Hertzberg, Zoe Francois). Wow! Its so simple, tastes great, and couldn’t be easier or quicker. I recommend this book to anyone interested in making bread. It only takes a few minutes to mix all the ingredients and then you can store the wet dough in the fridge. Then whenever you want to make a loaf in the next 14 days, just tear off a grapefruit sized clump, form it, let it rest, and bake it. Nothing complicated. No kneading necessary. Did I mention that it tastes amazing.

On Sunday it warmed up enough that we could get Cooper outside to play in the snow. Of course he loved it. Kelly helped him build a little mini snowman that is still out in the front yard. She also came up with a great idea to let Cooper slide down our little hill on the circular lid of our recycling can. [sorry, no pictures]

I uploaded a few pictures from Christmas to our flickr account, but realized I didn’t really take any pictures in the entire month of December or January. We did see a hawk stalking a chipmunk out the back window of Kelly’s parents’ house. In case you are interested, the chipmunk got away.

I know I haven’t posted much here recently. I have a backlog of links and interesting finds to include in the daily bricolage, so hopefully I will get back to that soon.

I came back from a week in Scottsdale, AZ to have a great weekend with Kelly and Cooper.

I finally got around to baking some bread based on the techniques in “Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day” (Jeff Hertzberg, Zoe Francois). Wow! Its so simple, tastes great, and couldn’t be easier or quicker. I recommend this book to anyone interested in making bread. It only takes a few minutes to mix all the ingredients and then you can store the wet dough in the fridge. Then whenever you want to make a loaf in the next 14 days, just tear off a grapefruit sized clump, form it, let it rest, and bake it. Nothing complicated. No kneading necessary. Did I mention that it tastes amazing.

head over to Kelly’s bog and check it out.

While we were driving, he said something to me that I didn’t fully understand. So I repeated back to him what I thought he was saying, to which he would reply, “NO!” until I nailed it. I don’t remember exactly what I tried, but here are a few things that give you the flavor of the things I tried: I’m sinking in the rain, I’m linking in the grain, I’m drinking in the drain. None of these really made sense, and Cooper was starting to get a bit frustrated.

As it turns out. He was saying: “I’m thinking in my brain.” Well, of course that’s what he was saying it makes perfect sense now. I tried, but failed to figure out how he had formulated this idea, so I did the next best thing and pursued the dialogue to its logical conclusions. I asked him, “What are you thinking about in your brain?” to which he replied, “trains!”

Here’s how the whole conversation went:

Cooper: I’m ——ing in my —-.

Me: You’re drinking in the rain?

Cooper: No, I’m ——ing in my —-.

Me: You’re stinking in the lane?

Cooper: No!, I’m ——ing in my —-.

Me: You’re blinking in the drain?

Cooper: NO!, I’m ——ing in my —-.

Me: Oh, you’re thinking in your brain.

Cooper: “Yeah. I’m thinking in my brain.”

—–

I try in vain to get him to explain how/where he learned about thinking in his brain.

—–

Me: “What are you thinking about in your brain?”

Cooper: “Trains! What are you thinking about in your brain, Pa?”

—–

We have a discussion about what each of us are thinking about.

—–

Me: “What are you thinking about in your brain now?”

Cooper: “I’m all finished.”

—–

A couple seconds pass in silence…then

—–

Cooper: “I can’t stop thinking in my brain!”

This past weekend we made a whirlwind trip down to DC for my grandmother’s 100th birthday celebration. It was opportunity to see relatives I hadn’t seen since my wedding 5 years ago, and other relatives I hadn’t seen in much longer.

Upon arrival, we started the weekend off with dinner at my Aunt’s house, and it was the first time I had seen my brother in 5 years.

Cooper had a great time at the hotel, especially with the complimentary donuts (I mean breakfast).

My grandmother is still very much “with it” at 100.

Even at 100, gramma Irene is still making people laugh with her dry wit and humor.

The birthday activities/program was right during Cooper’s usual nap time, but he surprised us and fell asleep in his mother’s arms amidst the singing and talking.

This was the first time my brother (Jay) had seen Cooper, and he was able to spend some playtime with him in our hotel room.

The last event of the weekend was lunch with the extended family at one of Joan’s favorite restaurants. Cooper liked the bear, although he was quick to point out that polar bears say “roar” and black bears just say “grrr.”

All in all, it was a pretty great weekend. The hectic-ness was outweighed by the ability to see and connect with people/family that I haven’t seen in years.