Russelly in the R.O.K.S Galaxy

As the lights go dim and are replaced by the nightlight projected stars, moon & planets onto his room's ceiling, Russelly - snuggled in his sleep sack and comforted by the light drone of white noise - drifts into dreamland.

 

Before long, the white noise transforms into the rumble of jet engines which propel the crib-turned galaxy galloper The Chicky Meatball piloted by the year-old Russell and his cohorts, Moo Cow - the plush, lavender scented Warmie master mechanic whose alter ego Bo Vine is a snack chef; and Zommie - the crocheted zombie stuffie navigator and interpreter.

Together they travel the R.O.K.S galaxy in the vessel named after Russelly's favorite mommy-made dinner - chicken meatballs and sauce - exploring the amazing world of growing up: people, places, pictures, sounds, objects, words, numbers and animals. 

When morning arrives, Russ awakens to find himself still swaddled by the sleep sack in his non-spaceship crib with the slobber-covered Moo Cow & Zommie stuffies tossed about nearby and eager to share what he learned during his night time adventure with mommy, daddy and house cat guardians, Whisky & Jamie.

When the lights go out, we blast off!

Hanging Up the Running Shoes...

 Good morning everyone...

Since August of 2016, thanks to our own Captain Treadmill, I have diligently put in mile after mile. Actually, I had agreed to The Buck Fifty a month before, but didn't start running till a month later (and a full decade since I had run at all) - thanks procrastination! After some initial cursing directed at Mark, I did it willingly and have enjoyed nearly every minute despite the weather, how I was feeling, lack of sunlight or time. Or when Mark then skipped out on the first Buck Fifty after getting us all involved to take a cruise - schmuck ;)

I made new friends, rekindled old friendships, set PRs, chased down nemesis', climbed ridiculous elevation, lost, won & lost some more & ran on the humid jungle-like trails of Costa Rica.

Attempted & crushed the half marathon (1:23:54), conquered "The Hillbilly" (Gary K. Fetherolf's definition of running the Friday/Saturday Buck Fifty followed by the Athen's Half Marathon that Sunday) and even saw Lauren get interested and begin running as well (I think she was bored always being the chauffeur & cheerleader).

In this time I met Lauren, moved, got married, had a child and moved again. Lauren ran up until 4 months pregnant, even winning her age group at a half marathon in Holland, Michigan. I continued after Russell arrived and changing to a job requiring a 4am wake up time.

Now that Russell is approaching two and is as active as a wind up toy on a sugar high, along w/ the hour drive to & from work...I simply have no time to run. Not to mention I would much rather spend time w/ my son as I approach 50 (48 as of 12/20) year of age. I took a break from running shortly after taking the new job, but that break prolonged and I have discovered I don't miss it all that much...some things, but little else.

To avoid a last minute drop out like last year due to the job change, I am starting 2024 by officially announcing that I am retiring my running shoes and to give the eager Buck Fifty-ers plenty of time to pick up a replacement - if not done so already.

After 7 years and thousands of miles, my last race, & run, was the Branstool Orchards Spring Blossom 5k trail run on April 15th - I'm happy to say I won it and we made it a family affair as L & R completed it with me. 

I will be cheering and sharing the post race beers with you from afar. A big Thank You to Mark - and all of the current & former Traffic Panthers - for making my forties much more enjoyable than I could ever have imagined.

Happy New Year and may your next run be your best run - race on friends!

Run On Buck Fifty Runners!

 “150 miles doesn't come easy. It's challenging. It's tough. But you're tough too. The Buck Fifty will build a lifetime bond with your teammates and will show you just how strong you really are. With beautiful views running through 3 state parks this is a race you'll never forget.” 

That is the beauty of this race. You don’t need to be “in shape” (though being prepared does have some major advantages), like making the decision to run a marathon – it is a test of your willingness to suffer and fight through adversity. It is a way to see yourself in a different light and trust there is much more to you than the person in the mirror who may not have reached (or is still grasping for) those goals you set for yourself years ago. 

Sure, this may be a small step (actually, a couple hundred of them), but who is to judge? This is a yearly reminder that there is so much more to each one of us. When I left for college in the latter part of the last century (seriously, guh), my grandmother gave me a framed copy of the following and it has been displayed in every dwelling I have had since: 

The Man or Woman in the Glass

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that person has to say.

For it isn’t your father, or mother, or husband or wife
Whose judgement upon you must pass
The person whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

It’s the person to please – never mind all the rest
For it’s with you clear to the end
And you know you have passed the most dangerous test
If the person in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears

If you’ve cheated the person in the glass. 

For the first time, I will be missing The Buck Fifty in 2023. I’m jealous of all of you who will be competing with one another - as well as yourselves - against shear exhaustion, the pain, the heat, the cold, the elevation, the never-ending straight stretches of Ross County asphalt and those damn grain elevator lights that seem to get further & further away in the night sky the closer you get to them. 

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.” 

Run On, Friends! 

Craig R. Simpson
Team: Traffic Panthers (2017-2022)

Celebrating Year #3 with Cham-PAIN!

A Buena Vista 'La Victoire' Brut Rose Champagne 750ML was to arrive at our house and would assist my wife & I celebrate our third anniversary on August 25th. On the 23rd, I received details from UPS stating said bottle had arrived at their facility in nearby Columbus, Ohio and was scheduled to be delivered on Thursday, the 25th - which would be right on time. Though, I couldn't help but wonder why it would take two days to get to us from a location 30 minutes away. 

A day later, I get an updated delivery time of the following day, Friday, Aug. 26th. Perturbed, but not defeated, at least it would be here soon to be enjoyed. My wife works from home and I was off on this Friday, caring for our six-month old. Near 5pm, I get an alert from UPS indicating the delivery time has been rescheduled for Monday, August. 29th. Now thoroughly annoyed, I check the online tracking app and see that not only had the bottle arrived in Columbus on the 23rd - but then also made it's way to the Atlantic Ocean (New Jersey) AND THEN a triumphant return to Columbus on the 25th and sent to another UPS facility in Marion, Ohio (passing through my current city) which is 20 minutes north of where we live and where I have worked fulltime for the last 10 years. 

With my head about to explode, I give UPS a call. I'm told the Friday (Aug. 26th) delivery didn't happen due to a mechanical failure on the delivery truck that morning. I was only alerted to the delivery date change to Monday, the 29th, several hours after said mechanical failure. When asked why I wasn't alerted to the truck issues hours before (of which I could have driven to the facility located in the city I have worked in for nearly everyday for a decade), I was simply told, "We don't do that".  I was also alerted that, for a fee, I could have the item dropped off at a UPS affiliate location and pick it up myself. "Why would I pay a fee for a process that your company caused, or were responsible for?", I asked. I received an answer loaded with jargon & double-speak I'm still trying to comprehend - hence, it was a customer service rep. who was simply doing her job of reading company issued gobbledygook from the frequently asked question document all CSRs have as a reference (I've been there, and know it quite well) and that a weekend delivery was not a possibility.  

She then reiterated, that the re-re-re-rescheduled date of our Champagne would be Monday, the 29th when I'm at work and my wife will be home, but also preoccupied with work (she is an online school teacher). Knowing this wasn't her fault, but yet irked beyond comprehension, I sarcastically thanked her for her time and hung up. 

At work the following day, Saturday, the 27th, I get notification from UPS that a delivery attempt of said item took place at 10:30 that morning. I audibly blurted out a, "What the F*ck!" as I was lucky to be far enough away to not be heard by human, animal, insect or plant. On this Saturday, my wife and son had joined my mother-in-law on a park excursion as it was a fantastic day weather-wise here in Central Ohio. Their trip took place in the same time the non-delivery day-delivery took place and with no one there to sign for it, our Champagne would make it's way back to the Marion facility.

I call UPS, again, from work, now fully vexed and with an irrational need to want to drive the nearest, sharpest object I can find into my ear canal. I request an explanation as to why the Saturday delivery attempt took place when I was told, by a living & breathing person, that Saturday was not an option and Monday would be the delivery day - as well as by the UPS delivery app saying Monday was definitely the expected arrival day. This better informed CSR indicated that the previous representative was not aware the facility located in Marion DOES weekend deliveries as many of the UPS locations in and around the United States of America DO NOT. 

The girl overly apologized and when asked if a re-delivery could take place later on this day when I would be at home, she said she would request but the possibility of it happening was slim to none. She also gave me the affiliate location drop-off option, though I just dropped my head and squeezed my eyes closed to force back the ever increasing inferno of disenchantment saying I wasn't going to pay for her company's lack of communication. She was very nice, saying she was there to listen as she completely understood why I was in the state I was in. I thanked her for her time, saying maybe my wife and I would be able to enjoy the bottle sometime within the next week, month or year or before it turned to a fine brut, pickling vinegar.

On Monday, the 29th, while at work I received a text just after the noon hour from L saying, "It arrived!" After all that had taken place, she half-jokingly asked if she should refrigerate it. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if we should drink it or simply keep it as a momento of the weirdest anniversary celebration gift scenario we will most likely ever encounter.

So finally, a bottle of champagne that landed 30 minutes from us, then hit the casinos in Atlantic City for a day, returned to Columbus, made a day trip past my house to a closer facility, experienced car trouble, returned to the facility, made it's way to my unoccupied house, then back to that closer facility - 5 minutes from where I was working AT THAT TIME - to then wait to be delivered - again - four days after our anniversary, a full seven days after arriving within spitting distance of my house and two days prior to our actual anniversary.

That better be one damn tasty bottle of bubbly...

Arriving Like an Armored Assault Anti-Aircraft RV

It is Spring again, everything old is renewed and we get to start over from where we left off last summer. Including another installment of let's make life as weird as possible.

The ground clearance is chest high on me, and I'm 6-3.

Just after April Fools' Day, hanging out in our front room with our two month old son, I notice this giant vehicle coming up our street. Motorized modes of transportation go up and down our street all the time, but this one was slightly out of place and sounded like a tank. It stopped in front the neighbors who live across the street diagonally from us. The neighbors, as well as the vehicle's occupants, congregated in the street and were inspecting and pointing around as if attempting to come to a conclusion on some particular aspect of life.

Now way to curious to ignore, I get the 60-day old Russell to fall into a deep slumber to make room for my voyeurism. This oversized box truck was too big to back into their driveway and they seemed to be pondering where to safely park it. 

Soon, they are utilizing a telescopic pole saw to hack off several lower-level tree limbs coming off of the topiary in their front yard next to the street. This, I gathered, was the only way to rest the monstrosity on wheels in the street without blocking their driveway or other vehicles traveling along Elmwood Drive.

When L saw what was happening, she immediately then went google searching to discover this beaut was actually an upscale living quarters and sold for well over six figures, times two. It is the sort of thing you'd find - in my mind - being dropped into an area devastated by a nuclear disaster as temporary shelter.

Nonetheless, the folks who landed it on our street on this day were simply visiting their friends (our neighbors) for a few days. The neighbor who lives directly across the street from us, and to the left of the home in the picture, sent us a text asking if we knew where the ridiculous armored assault vehicle came from. A day later, Rob informed us the anti-aircraft RV would be leaving the following Tuesday. He did have to ask the folks who live in the house that's actually attached to the ground on our street if they could avoid parking on the opposite of their traveling friends so as to allow for through traffic.

Aside from the numerous city codes being violated, the obnoxious blocking of regular traffic and my inability to park in front of my house - we survived the four days of occupation by the traveler extremists.

Other than that it has been a typical rain, snow, rain, warm, rain, breezy, rain, cold, rain, sun and more rain spring. Not to mention the sixth version of The Buck Fifty - Southern Ohio's 150 mile, 24 hour, 10 person team relay to kick off the non-winter portion of 2022.

Again this year, I would take the Van #1, Runner #2 position for team Traffic Panthers as we battle the streets, roads, paths and Appalachian foothills around Chillicothe, Ohio with more than 80 other teams.

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We are scheduled to take off at 5pm on Friday afternoon with Eric leading the way. Unseasonably warm (well over 70) is what we are greeted with. Not that 70 is overly warm for April, but we've been running in typical Ohio spring weather the last few weeks - topping out 50 or so. This year is also a bit different with us leaving at a later time and with some faster teams so having some competition & company along the way would be few and far between.  

I'm at Adena Mansion warming up and waiting for Eric to arrive. I'm well hydrated and continue loosening up in the shade. Just before Eric appears, a Bald Eagle flies overhead with a prey of some kind swaying in it's talons. It is humid and I'm now hoping that Eagle wouldn't be searching for me in the coming miles.

Once I get the baton (5:55 pm), I race down Adena hill turn along the bike path and jet up Yaples Orchard. I'm feeling the incline, but I'm not overwhelmed. I pass a competitor at about three miles in, but that's it. There is no one I can see or chase. This left me to my own devices and going a little slower than I wanted on the backend. I did get passed by an elite squad member at around 6 miles and was able to eventually see other runners, but it was near the end of the route and I wouldn't be catching them. Though, the water left for runners by spectators along the trail at Maple Grove Prairie was greatly appreciated.

I arrive at Hopewell Culture National Historic Park and hand off to Josh just before passing another runner. Overall, my times on the segments on the hilly portion were the best I have run on this route, but I slowed on the long straight stretch as the isolation killed my momentum with no one to track down. I covered the 7.32 miles and 308 feet of elevation in 50:21. Decent, but not my best time here.

The next few checkpoints were a bit lonely as they would be full of teams when we arrived, but would would soon empty as their runners arrived and we waited on ours. A different perspective as compared to the past years. Finally, at the first van transition at Adena High School, we arrive with several other teams and after handing off to van #2 we head to Mark's house to chill for a couple of hours. I down some breakfast bake, a traditional van transition beer and relax for about 90 minutes before heading off again.

We return to the next transition to take over for van #2 at the Kingston Grain Mill. Again, teams everywhere before slowly dwindling. Though, they seem to be around a bit longer now than before. Van #2 greets us and Chris arrives to hand off to Eric, our second go around begins.

Zane Trace High School is our next stop and my second starting point. Here, it is nearly empty, only a handful of teams but other squads trickle in. Again, I'm warming up and it is warm but not hot as it was before. Excellent running weather and I'm hoping to redeem myself from a disappointing first route. Before too long, Eric arrives and with my headlamp and knuckle lights I take off.

This time I'm out (1:31 am) in enough time to have someone to chase. It is a long straight stretch to start and I can focus on my competitor's safety lights bouncing in the night air on the horizon. I'm comfortable and satisfied with my leg turnover, the ability to focus on a subject and be blinded by the night sky from all distractors is a blessing in disguise. I can see I'm tracking him down and hardly notice my first mile was 5:51. Fast, but not too fast, as this is what happens when you get the chance to race against someone and not just yourself. 

He turns into Great Seal State Park where some nice elevation begins and I follow moments later, the same takes place as we turn left onto a muddy trail. There is no footing to speak of and the climbing is at a snail's pace. We cross over a park road and back onto a trail, I'm about 15 feet behind as we dodge roots, ruts & rocks. Suddenly he comes to a stop and steps aside, allowing me to go by. He looks to be in good shape and I wasn't all that close to him, so I'm trying to figure out why he let me pass. Then it hit me as I start to see route markers on trees more clearly. My headlamp and knuckle lights created much more of a line of sight than what his lights were, thus making our route more visible.

Now with him on my tail, and the comfortable night air coaxing us along, I'm pushing through with relative ease. We turn through a lighted path to the baton exchange at a parking lot near the Sugarloaf Mountain Trailhead and handoff to Josh. I'm feeling exhilarated and satisfied. I cover the 3.38 miles and 282 feet of elevation in 24:03. At our van, I'm explaining what the dude I passed did and why I think we let me by and since it is in the wee hours of the morning - and sound travels - his voice from the van on the other side of the lot exclaims, "That's EXACTLY what I did!" Though he finished just behind me, I'm happy I caught him.

As we head to the next checkpoint, we pass several emergency/medical personnel coming the opposite direction. Come to find out, on the leg Josh had just taken off on, a competitor had fallen on the rocky terrain and suffered a dislocated kneecap, unable to make it down the trail himself.  Again, the checkpoint is loaded with vans, a sure sign we are gaining on some teams. This ends up being the case up through the next van transition at Walnut Creek Campground. Van #2 heads out again and we, again, head back to Mark's to chill for awhile.

Here I woof down to large pieces of the remaining breakfast bake and traditional transition beer. I get about 90 minutes of sleep before I wake myself up with anticipation of my next route. A wrong turn on the trail on this leg last year cost us quite a bit of time and I was eager to redeem myself. 

Eric was slow in getting up and since it is easy to get under his skin, I have Mark's Alexa device blare "Still Loving You" by the Scorpions and sing along with it in only the best way I know how - obnoxiously. Perturbed that he would be not getting his precious additional 15 minutes of sleep, I am greeted with a variety of f-bombs and related synonyms. His rant slowed down, but continued as we headed to the next transition at my alma mater, Southeastern High School.

Here we meet back up with van #2 and nearly 30 other vans as we have officially caught up to the other Buck Fifty race nomads. Soon Chris arrives to hand off to Eric for the third and final time. As we leave Southeastern, Tom (a former Traffic Panther) and current race volunteer yells, "There's my team!" We jokingly let him know how we feel about his decision to stepdown from Buck Fifty competition. Headed to the checkpoint of my next run, we pass 20 to 30 runners and I'm happy to have more folks to track down. 

We get to Shelly & Sands Quarry just outside of my hometown of Richmond Dale and watch as teams roll in. I warm up by jogging around the quarry's giant piles of rock & sand. The sun is up and it's hazy, it is humid and will be getting hotter. Eric shows up and outruns a competitor at the checkpoint and I'm off for the third time (9:13 am) along Higby Road toward The Buckeye Trail. The gentleman directly behind me looks like he knows what he's doing, so I try to stay in front of him to at least the trailhead.

Once onto the trail, the massive climbing begins. My lungs are on fire and my legs are rubbery, but soon I make a pass. As the terrain levels out, I trip and nearly face plant, but catch myself and bounce back up. Soon I make a few more passes, but the footsteps behind me are hard to ignore. When we get to a relatively level area, I wave him past. Continuing on, I again catch a rock and fall forward. I stop myself from crashing hard, and bounce back up a second time. The worn out legs are now struggling to pick the feet up off the ground.

More competitors are passed, many of them walking as the elevation is hard to endure. I still, though, keep the dude who passed me within eyesight. I turn the correct way at the point of last year's wrong turn and soon find myself arriving at the checkpoint and pass off to Josh. I excitedly proclaim having picked off twelve competitors and celebrate the end of my assigned routes, covering the 5.76 miles and 784 feet of elevation in 49:25.

The next few checkpoints had us passing several teams before handing off to van #2 for the final time. We head back to the start to get our cars, but instead of waiting for our team to finish. I, in an exhausted state, drove home instead of waiting for another two to three hours for the finish. By this time, it was well over 80 degrees, hot and uncomfortable. I needed to shower, eat, sleep and see my 11 week-old son, Russell. My task of 16.46 miles & 1,374 feet of climbing in about 20 hours was done for at least one more year. April 2023 will come faster than you can comprehend.

We did end up finishing with a team record time or 22:57:50, placing 18th out of 82 teams. In the mixed team category, we pulled in a fourth place finish out of 44 teams. And did it all with some familiar faces, as well as a mix of folks who were able to step in at the last moment when life simply got in the way. A big THANK YOU to my teammates: Sarah, Lisa, Eli, Evette, Chris, Terrell, David G., Dustin, Mark, Josh, Dave B. and Eric.

Things happen sometimes, and sometimes it is for the better. Speaking of, if you happen to get your hands on this year's race guide (which was outstanding by the way) you should turn to the very last page. Just a quick reminder that change is good.

So we have completed a half dozen Buck Fifty races and it seems this event has become our annual signal that summer is on the horizon. With this past weekend's summer-like temperatures, I can now see myself on a sandy beach nestled against a cool body of water or on majestic mountainside letting the warm breeze release everything trivial. The air, the water - whether fresh or salty - may it forever be your Chlorine...

Twenty One Pilots - Chlorine

Sippin' on straight chlorine,

Let the vibe slide over me,

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical,

When I leave don't save my seat,

I'll be back when it's all complete,

The moment is medical, moment is medical.

Loving what I'm tasting,

Venom on my tongue,

Dependent at times.

Poisonous vibrations,

Help my body run,

I'm running for my life.

Fall out of formation,

I plan my escape,

From walls they confined.

Rebel red carnation,

Grows while I decay,

I'm running for my life.

Hide you in my coat pocket,

Where I kept my rebel red,

I felt I was invincible,

You wrapped around my head,

Now different lives I lead,

My body lives on lead,

The last two lines may read,

Incorrect until said,

The lead is terrible in flavor,

But now you double as a paper maker,

I despise you sometimes,

I love to hate the fight,

And you in my life is like...

I'm so sorry I forgot you,

Let me catch you up to speed,

I've been tested like the ends of,

A weathered flag that's by the sea.

Can you build my house with pieces?

I'm just a chemical.

Photos courtesy of The Traffic Panthers

A Buck Fifty finisher beer

Traffic Panthers Van #2

Post Leg #2 finish

Most of the Traffic Panthers

Transition beer #1

Transition beer #2

The Traffic Panthers, Van #1

Russell!

It's called progress....

This is how you celebrate the day after

Finishing Leg #12 at Great Seal State Park

At Southeastern High School early 
Saturday, with coffee in each hand

Leg #22 finish, touting my 12 kills

Before & After hilly Leg #22

Chasing Change, Creating a Community

This is a story, a story about some concerned citizens who grew tired of seeing the destruction drugs could do to their town. Then, adding insult to injury, were forced to hear (& read) in the news about how downtrodden their scenic city nestled in the Appalachian foothills of Ross County had become as a result. This, of course, could not have been further from the truth.

Their answer to turning things around and painting a better image, create a footrace. As the old adage goes, truth is stranger than fiction. Of course, there are far more details as to how and why this evolved, but even with full details the story would be tough to comprehend. 

The result is the 150 mile, 24 hour, 10 runner, 2 driver team relay through 4 national and state parks circling the county where this so-called "downtrodden" city resides. Now, we find ourselves on the verge of the sixth installment of The Buck Fifty and it has become much more than an effort to combat community ills or even a competitive race of athletic nature.

The Buck Fifty, in itself, is a running community of collaboration, partnership and connectedness. It is the relationships that have evolved from the shared sleep deprivation, exhaustion and support for one another as we chase the sunset and the sunrise, as well as the random glowing, flashing lights of our cohorts along streets, roads and trails under the cover of a Southern Ohio night.

There were 38 teams in the first event in 2017 and in year two Runner's World magazine wrote about the unique race and the purpose behind it - not to mention the number of teams jumped to 73. In 2020, prior to the start of the pandemic, we had well over 100 teams signed up. Though COVID pushed the race back to a July start, 54 of those teams still took part despite the summer heat - we persevered, we pulled through.

A Buck Fifty Runners Group exists on Facebook where folks discuss ideas and collaborate on course clean-ups, trail marking or share details on meetups at particular checkpoints for casual group runs and anyone can take part. It brings camaraderie to the other 363 days of the year when the event isn't taking place. Whether one is slow, fast, in-shape, out of shape, it simply doesn't matter. At last check, there were more than 1,200 members.

Our team, The Traffic Panthers, was first cobbled together in the summer of 2016 with folks who competed together during their high school glory days around Chillicothe and others who happened to work with one another in some shape or form. The squad has evolved since then, but we have 23 current and former members and many of us continue to run together, or get together, when we can.

If you were to review a list of all the teams that have taken part in The Buck Fifty over the years, you will find nearly all of them - despite some new names and faces - return. We stay connected, we are a community.

The race comes to an end, but those relationships go well beyond our GPS devices or Strava stats. It doesn't matter if you run to socialize, to exercise, to compete with others or even compete with yourself. What matters is how The Buck Fifty brings thousands of people together to prove basic human camaraderie is just as alive today as it has ever been.

Having taken part in every installment of this event, one thing remains constant: the people. The Buck Fifty has evolved from an effort to overcome, to an event folks across the country look forward each year for the sport, the experience, the accomplishment and a sense of belonging.

The runners, the van drivers, the volunteers, the businesses, the residents, the schools, the safety and emergency personnel - we are an accidental running community centered around a 150 mile trail of purpose and progress. Ladies & Gentlemen, Welcome to The Buck Fifty.

Craig R. Simpson
Team: Traffic Panthers (version 6.0)

That's Going To Leave a Mark...

Discussing taking time off for Russell's arrival evolved into getting a month to get situated with having a child and L was able to work out getting about three months. The last week prior to the birth included a baby shower put together by my coworkers for L & I and since L's maternity leave was underway she was able to take part in the mid-day Wednesday soiree. The festive decor included actual rocks (those used for library-related crafts) scattered around the plate of celebratory cookies. 

My paternity leave was to then begin at the end of this week, but an ice storm that Wednesday afternoon encased everything in ice and the snow storm the following day dumped about six inches on top - thus, closing the library Thursday & Friday. So my paternity leave began two days ahead of time. It was fun pounding away at the ice and snow to clear the driveway and free our cars from their ice cocoons on day one, then shoveling it all again the following day. If anything, our cats enjoyed the constant human interaction.

During the de-icing of our cars we came away with on unexpected benefit. A couple of years ago, frustrated after an argument (we don't remember what it was about) - L released her pent up negative energy by punching the backside of her car around the trunk area. Unfortunately, she hit it hard enough to leave a fist-sized dent. 

Five inches of snow, on top of an 

inch of ice.

Fast forward to the aftermath of the February 2022 ice storm, I'm banging on our cars just hard enough to break up the ice to allow for an easy removal. A couple of areas needed a few additional whacks and to our surprise one of those hits with a bit more mmmph actually popped out the dent left by L's iron fist way back when. Upon hearing this great news, L said she had only told her brother of how the dent occurred because she was embarrassed and had previously feigned ignorance when asked about it.

On Saturday, I squeezed in a 3.1 mile run to suffice the Break the Ice 5k virtual race. The in-person race takes place in South Haven, Michigan during the Ice Breaker Festival we have attended each year since 2019. Though we couldn't get there this year with the pregnancy just days away from completion, but signing up for the virtual race meant we would still get the coveted SWAG sent to us. I didn't run all that fast since the ice and snow made for less than stellar conditions, but it was nice to take part from afar. The full sun helped to defeat the near-single digit temps as well. #HShive #mettlemonday

Limoncello cookies,

chocolate biscotti 

& pizzelles

We then celebrated L's birthday by picking up some pastries I ordered from Old Man Ciacchi's Italian Bakery, a local couple who run a bakery from their home. I highly recommend the Limoncello cookies, but everything they make is excellent. This was then followed by breakfast at the Sunbury Grill as L had been craving a hearty breakfast without the whole "healthy" thing getting in the way. We spent the rest of the day at her parent's watching the Olympics and playing her brother's Civilization board game till midnight. On the way home, L teared-up a bit realizing the next time we visit her parents she - herself - would be a mom.

Despite being tired from the long Saturday, L didn't sleep well as Russell was moving all over the place. The movement was similar to when he turned the opposite direction the week before, but we think he was just getting excited or making sure his bags were packed for the upcoming change of scenery. The Sunday was also the arrival of several things we had ordered, or were sent to us, for the baby. One of those things may have been a Bengals onesie complete with beanie and bib - the poor boy has to be ready for the Super Bowl next weekend, right?!

We stayed up late, again, watching the Olympics Sunday night and were, again, greeted with blue sky & sunshine Monday morning. As L stayed in bed, I took care of the cats and wandered into Russell's room, gawking out the window into the backyard to see the sun bouncing off the snow, birds taking turns visiting the feeder as well as this past December's Christmas Tree lying just below it and a feisty red squirrel protecting it's territory by chasing away it's bushy, gray brethren. 

A portion of Russell's room

Sipping on a cup of coffee, I couldn't help but come to the realization this would be the last day we would NOT be parents. Looking around R.O.K.S' soon-to-be occupied room, I laugh at the fact I'm going to be a first-time dad at 46 and - holy crap - we really need to organize the piles of collected baby stuff & supplies lying in the crib. 

Making her way out of bed, L's to-do list starts with calling our landlord and inquiring as to why the rent on our duplex would be going up another 10% (just short of 20% total the last two years). Hearing the frustration in her voice, she was not happy with the answer of "this coincides with the recommendation of the independent appraiser we hired." Concisely & calmly giving the person on the other end of the line a piece of her mind, L then hangs up. Now angrily spouting how wrong this is to the atmosphere around her, I interrupt the diatribe with this is not the time to get herself cranked up.

Getting her to relax and focus more on the to-do list to prepare for tomorrow, we agree that once we are settled with having a baby to care for we would then begin the process of looking for a home to buy. This, of course, would be months from now but still a little disappointing that The Fermented Firefly would be changing locations a little sooner than we had hoped - but good things do have to come to an eventual end: "We'd get sick on too many cookies, but ever so much sicker on no cookies at all." ~ Sinclair Lewis

Headed out the door at 7am
to extract Russell.

We were up at 6am, the cats knew something was up as bags were stacked at the door, we loaded the car, took a deep breath, I downed a quick espresso and we drove the five minutes to Grady Memorial Hospital just as the sun was rising. The parking lot was relatively empty and so was the hospital itself, but when we were escorted to our room there as a parade of nurses, physicians and medical personnel. Pre-operation steps get underway, awakening the butterflies for the both of us, well-wishing text messages began to chime in and soon I found myself in scrubs from head-to-toe....this was really happening.

A description of what would take place from here on out was detailed, then a nervous L was wheeled to the operating room - leaving me pacing in the room by myself searching for some sort of sanity. Soon a nurse pokes her head in coaxing me to follow and into a small prep area outside of the operating room. I wait, again, as the time is almost there and when finally beckoned - L is displayed on a table, covered in sheets and surrounded by what seemed to be every medical professional in the building.

R.O.K.S - shaking his fist at me 
moments after birth.

I sit on a stool next to her head which is poking out from behind a sheet screen, grab her hand and the procedure begins. We are given details as to what is taking place during the procedure, shielded by the work itself. We make fun, nervous small talk as she tries to ignore the pushing, squeezing and pressure being issue to her lower half. Before we know it, were told he has been removed from his human cocoon. A quick glance over the sheet and I see a tiny, purply, wet alien-like person held above the table with his tissue tether dangling below him. He isn't crying much, but rather is making annoyed squeaks similar to those made by the angry squirrels that take over our backyard.

Then the waterworks begin, L is crying and I'm a complete mucusy mess. The boy is brought over to meet his mom for the first time, then is placed into the warmer for post-op screening. I'm staring threw the waterfall of tears at this little person with breech birth legs sticking straight up into the air, being poked and prodded by nurses. As the medical personnel disperses, this tiny hand grips my finger and these steely blue eyes glare back - likely wondering what the hell just took place.... I'm right there with you, brother.

For a lack of a better phrase, L is stitched back together and we - along with an awesome hospital staff - welcomed the 7 pounds, 7 ounces and 19 inches of Russell Orland Kidder Simpson to the world at 9:52am on Tuesday, February 8th. For this one day, if ever there was one, all was right with the world.

So here we are, the two of us has become three - ending an era and starting a whole new chapter with stories to tell, mistakes to make, discoveries to uncover and a family to administer. It's all hands (and paws) on deck, for C, L, R.O.K.S, Whiskey & Jameson are about to begin....

Weezer - Beginning Of The End

Knocking on my door they tell me it's time to go on
Last check in the mirror to see if anything's wrong
The writing's up on the wall
A warning shot to them all

My head is spinning, it's the beginning of the end
The people freak out when I walk out there, so scared
My head is spinning, it's the beginning of the end
The people freak out when I walk out there, so scared

Nostradamus predicted a bomb would drop
And all our guitars will be humming in old pawn shops
Watch us brush off the dust, in heavy metal we trust
Then kick back and read The Sunday Times

My head is spinning, it's the beginning of the end
The people freak out when I walk out there, so scared

Fifteen hundred thousand years
Wouldn't be enough to dry these tears
I'll still be here hanging on, and on, and on
Things will never be the same
Save the pieces of your brain

My head is spinning, it's the beginning of the end
The people freak out when I walk out there, so scared
My head is spinning, it's the beginning of the end
The people freak out when I walk out there, so scared

My boy, the Bengal fan!

Highly recommended!

Jameson & Whiskey chillin' in 

the sun, unaware of the

forthcoming human noise maker.

This race has the coolest

shirt designs

Russell's room, the owl

cutouts came from the

library baby shower.

Russell's woodland

theme is everywhere

Russell!

C, L & R