Letters From Third Grade

Moving Sucks

2011-07-10T18:30:00.000-07:00

Hey, lookey, it's my one year anniversary since I've blogged. I really should have been blogging this whole time because this year has been crazy. Randy took a job in Norman, OK, 130 miles south of here, last September. He got a temporary apartment while I got the house ready to sell. Turns out we had a lot of stuff and we spent a few months getting rid of quite a bit of it. By then it was getting close to the holidays, and we didn't want to put the house on the market until after the holidays. Finally got it on the market mid-February.

All this time, Randy is working in Norman during the week and I'm in Enid. For awhile I was still doing my court abstracting also. So he would come home on weekends and I would go back down with him on Sunday afternoon, with a load of stuff, and spend a night or two.

Didn't have many lookers at the house, due to the housing market. We made offers on a couple of homes in Norman that didn't work out. Finally found a new home and made an offer on it. Three days before closing, Randy's boss told him that the company was not in good financial shape and they may be having to lay off people. He said this would not be a good time to have two house payments. So we backed out of that and bided our time. Meanwhile, Randy had been looking for jobs elsewhere. Long story short, we decided to stop looking for jobs anywhere USA and decide where we want to live, go there and then get jobs. We chose the Minneapolis area, mainly because that is where our son and daughter-in-law are, and that's also where Jess wants to go.

SO! Moved everything back from the apartment and storage unit in Norman. Jess had moved back here after she graduated college. Now we are in the process of packing and moving the last of it up to Minnesota. Storage units until we find a house. Staying with Randy's parents. Jess will stay with us until she gets a big girl job.

Moving is one of my least favorite things. We moved ourselves to Enid from Pond Creek, 25 miles. Up until then, we'd always had a company who paid to move us. This is brutal. We have so far a broken thumb (mine) and a hernia (his). But we are excited and optimistic. And now I will post some pictures and then go take a shower because, OMG, I can't believe how awful I smell after packing in this heat.

Jess got to drive behind this for twelve hours. Yeah, that was fun.

My daughter, my nephew, my grandog and the chaos that our house has become.

We are actually having quite a time with this. That's my hubby smiling and it's way too early to be drinking. BTW, we celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary yesterday. We are embarking on a new chapter of our lives. It's exciting.

And now I'm going to find some soap.

Still Driving Around

2010-07-10T18:53:00.000-07:00

Sooo . . . Jess and I went to the Castleberry family reunion (my maiden name). This is an annual event, on this weekend because my grandfather was born on the fourth of July. Our family went in 1990 and 1999, which means none of us had been there in eleven years. Jess and I stopped at a couple of interesting places on the way out to Illinois.

Outside of a hot dog place. I don't know why.

One of the reasons I love Route 66. World's Largest Rocking Chair.

That's Jess with my great Aunt Grace. I'm not sure how old Aunt Grace is, but I'm guessing at least ninety. And let me tell you, I had trouble keeping up with her when I was following her out to her farm. Maniac.

We left Illinois with Grandma Castleberry and went to Branson. Grandma and I caught the Patsy Cline show, very nice, while Jess caught the Outlet Mall. We also went to The Butterfly Palace and The Chinese Acrobats.

All in all a great trip, now we are getting ready to go to Minnesota. Randy is going to the Boundary Waters and I am getting some more quality time with my daughter-in-law. More pics soon, she has a baby horse!

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . .

2010-06-25T18:10:00.000-07:00

I posted a blog. Since then, I have been busy, busy, busy and have not posted another until now. This is what I've been up to. We left the Grand Canyon early (got up to see the sunrise)and were going to Amarillo that night. The only thing was, there was a nasty ass blizzard coming in that was supposed to muck up the Texas panhandle and most of Oklahoma. So we decided to drive all the way home and try to get there before the storm hit. Got in around midnight, got up around noon and sure enough,there was the crap we drove out of. Not a fun night of driving, but better than being stuck in Amarillo in a blizzard.

Went back to work, but then we went to Minnesota for a week. Hubby helped his Dad with some projects (MIL was visiting relatives). Curtis went to see his space camp alumni in Kansas for an Apollo 13 anniversary deal. So my DIL and I got to painting their new house. We did four rooms in three days and got to spend some quality time together. Then she took a day off work and we went shopping! Came home and one of my baby girls got married.

Then I went on a whirlwind three day/seven court working trip. Yup I hit seven courts in three days, including one in Boise City, which is AAALLL the way up into the panhandle of Oklahoma. Put almost a thousand miles on the van. But saw some pretty interesting stuff.

One of my courts is in Beaver, Oklahoma, in Beaver County. They're quite proud of the Beaver, among other things. The people are super nice, I have to say.

While we were staying in Elk City, right on Route 66, we saw this in our hotel parking lot.

Later that day we saw them all parked in a Route 66 museum parking lot in Clinton. I'm guessing they are taking my Route 66 dream vacation.

Then we helped Jess move, played some golf, did some landscaping in the front yard and worked some more. And one day, on the way to Woodward, we saw some awesome clouds.

Next week Jess and I are driving to southern Illinois for a Castleberry family reunion. After that, she and I and my stepmom are driving to Branson for a few days, after which Grandma will come here for a couple of nights. We'll take her back to OKC for a flight home on Friday, which will be our 27th wedding anniversary. And that, in a nutshell, is what's happening since my long ago last blog post. Thanks for still reading!

Random

2010-03-18T08:19:00.000-07:00

Jess and I left Enid last Saturday, driving west. We gained an hour when we crossed into New Mexico. Of course, that was the day we kicked into DST, so we were supposed to spring ahead that night. We were so cocky about the fact that DST was not, for once, going to affect us, because we just got back our hour by being in a different time zone. Yeah, that was all well and good. Except that yesterday, we continued driving west into Arizona, where they don't fart around with the whole DST thing, so we gained another hour. Very cool. Until we drive home this weekend and LOSE TWO HOURS. We're screwed.

Anyway, this was yesterday. I had heard about this place, La Posada, on NPR, long story, but it was a fancy hotel during the depression where a lot of celebrities stayed because it was right on the railroad tracks. It was a Harvey hotel. At some point it was gutted and used for the railroad offices. Then someone bought it cheap and restored it close to its original self. We ate lunch in The Turquoise Room and it was fabulous. We are having such good food on this trip, I don't know what I'm going to do when I get home. Hamburger Helper ain't going to cut it.

La Posada is in Winslow, Arizona, and you know what you have to do if you are in Winslow, Arizona. That's right. You stand on the corner.

It's a girl, my Lord, in a flat bed Ford.

On the way up to the Grand Canyon we passed Fred's diner (as in Flintstone) and had to take some pics. Such kitsch.

Then we did sunset at the GC.

All in all a wonderful day. When Sleeping Beauty wakes up (the altitude is kicking her butt) we are headed back to the GC for sight seeing and hiking. Then home tomorrow where we will surely feel the full effects of DST and time travel!

Santa Fe and OMG

2010-03-16T22:06:00.000-07:00

Jess and I headed up to Santa Fe this morning and had a wonderful day. We saw some beautiful things, bought some beautiful things and enjoyed a beautiful spring day in northern New Mexico. We also had a fantastic lunch at La Fonda.

This is the miraculous staircase at the Loretto Chapel.

This is (purportedly, I don't know how to prove it) the oldest church in the country. That is a classic New Mexico sky color.

But by far, the most beautiful thing we saw today was my three day old grand-niece, Mallory.

Men can make chapels and staircases, but only God can make something as wonderful as this precious infant. It was a joy to hold her!

Road Trip, Days 2 and 3

2010-03-15T21:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we picked up my BFF Mary, who was my matron of honor a bunch of years ago, and went to El Paso. El Paso is where I met Mary and hubby, we bought our first house and both of our children were born. Lots of wonderful memories there.

Here is Jess celebrating the fact that she's home - she's a native Texan, after all!

Where hubby and I had our first 'date.' We just hung out, had a couple of beers, played some pool and Frogger and Tron.

Today we left Las Cruces and headed to White Sands. The Organ Mountains were really striking with snow and clouds.

Then on to White Sands. It wasn't the best day for White Sands, what with the wind and chilly temps, but still fun.

Back on the road to Albuquerque, we stopped to see some petroglyphs and took some pictures of different mountains with clouds and snow.

Tomorrow we are off to Santa Fe where there are lots of fun things to see, lots more pictures!

Road Trip!

2010-03-13T21:38:00.000-08:00

Spring break, so Jess and I are headed west. Spring break this year is Grand Canyon. Here are some pics from our first (long) day on the road. Hubby and I drive by this place on some of our travels for my job. This has to be the most evil chili I have ever seen.

Here is a giant windmill farm. I love these things. They kind of look like they are dancing.

Then we stopped in Amarillo for lunch. This is the place where you can get a 72 ounce steak, small salad, baked potato, shrimp cocktail, and roll free if you can eat it in an hour. While we were there they had three guys from Cushing, Oklahoma, attempting this feat. I think they came close, but no cigar. This actually draws quite a crowd around the glutton wannabes. I don't know if people think they are going to actually witness someone accomplishing it, but I would be afraid I would see projectile . . . well, you get the picture.

And then in Tucumcari (which creeped hubby and me out a couple of years ago) I got to see the Route 66 sculpture.

Now we are chilling in Las Cruces and going to pick up my friend, Mary, in the morning. Then we're going to El Paso to show Jess where she was born, her first house, and all that cool stuff. After that, on to Albuquerque where we will get to see my nephew's new baby (who hasn't arrived yet, but is, after 30 something hours making her mother wish she would). Then on down Route 66 to Winslow, Arizona, where we will be taking pictures on the corner.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

2010-03-10T17:59:00.001-08:00

Just a few pictures from my recent travels.

A giant pistachio sculpture from the pistachio farm near Alamogordo, NM.

Where I worked today, Kay Covnty courthouse. A wonderful, if quite disturbing, sculpture.

And for all of you who are doing something 'until the cows come home'. . . you can stop now.

My Funny Guggenheim

2010-01-16T11:35:00.000-08:00

So we just got back from Arizona, where hubby goes to golf every year after the holidays. He goes to Casa Grande and meets up with some other guys, mostly guys from Minnesota who want to escape winter in the great white north. I went with him two years ago and, while he was golfing, I went up to the Grand Canyon and took a bunch of pictures. Last year I didn't go, but this year I decided I would tag along again.

One day, while he was golfing, I took myself up to Phoenix to visit Taliesin West. This is where Frank Lloyd Wright built his second Taliesin home, the first being in Spring Green, Wisconsin. He also established a school of architecture and the winter campus is here. Me being the FLW freak that I am, had to see it. I started out with a 90 minute guided desert hike, to see the landscape that inspired the design of the house. Also, the students design and build their own 'shelters,' where they live while they are going to school here. Pretty fancy shelter, if you ask me.

After the hike, I had another 90 minute tour of the house and school. If I had to sit down and dream up one of the best days ever, it would have been close to this one. Wonderful hike, perfect weather, actually being in a FLW structure, getting to see all of this up close and personal. Yup, nearly perfect. Then I went into the gift store and the perfection was complete. I have to say I spent a semi-obscene amount of money in there, which I VERY rarely do. I have enough coffee mugs and T-shirts, but I had to have one of each. I found some beautiful FLW inspired earrings for Jessica, and some placemats for my dining room table (which will be removed before anyone eats there). But the coolest thing I found was a Lego set of the Guggenheim museum in New York City. I love Legos, I was disappointed when the kids were old enough to put theirs together themselves. So here is the original in NYC . . .

. . . and here is my own little Guggenheim, which I spent the last hour assembling.

Sometimes I'm such a geek. I have to say, though, I'm kind of kicking myself for not getting the Falling Waters Lego set also.

Giving Thanks

2009-11-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I wrote about the 50th Thanksgiving that my in-laws had spent with another couple. This year marked the 53rd, held at my sister-in-law's house, 40 in attendance.

Here is number one nephew Bob carving one of two turkeys.

No, that is not a used car lot.

It was nice enough outside for my niece to play with the dog.

Minnesota people will appreciate this pic.

These are the original couples. The rest of the pics are just people having fun, chilling out, some watching football.

All in all, a very nice Thanksgiving, so good to see people we have known for so long, to share what they have experienced this past year. The food wasn't bad, either.

Endless Road Trips

2009-11-19T18:38:00.000-08:00

I started a new job in March, as a court abstractor. This requires that I travel over the year to 18 counties in Oklahoma. Some I visit several times a year. My territory is pretty much the northwest quadrant of the state. Hubby goes with me on most of these trips, makes it more fun and we get some quality talk time in the car.

Many of these counties have courthouses that are in fairly small towns, so it's kind of amazing when you drive into a tiny town in Oklahoma, to the county seat, and see something like this.

This is in Sayre, Oklahoma. If you watch "The Grapes of Wrath" in the scene where the Okies are fleeing Oklahoma, there is a fleeting image of this courthouse in the background.

This is a statue in front of the courthouse.

And this is where we stayed, an original Route 66 motel. It was updated and quite clean, and had wireless internet. Right across the street from a Route 66 museum.

The same three night trip, we visited another county, Roger Mills (town of Cheyenne, population 778), that built a brand new courthouse in the eighties, during the oil boom. Very nice building with lots of paintings and sculptures, but they preserved some of the old.

What the sign says is that this is the records vault built in 1907-1908.

Protected the court records in the courthouse fire of 1916.

State Historical site of Oklahoma.

Next to that is this globe sort of thing made of horseshoes.

And last but not least, we have the veterans memorial.

Those are two of the courts and towns, I have lots of pics of the others coming up. Stay tuned.

Rumors of my Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

2009-11-13T15:35:00.000-08:00

To those loyal readers who have kept checking back for another post while this blog has been neglected for two and a half months, thank you! I even missed my three year blogiversary last month. I could say that I was having a hard time topping the last post featuring my daughter. But the real reasons for the neglect are 1) I started a new job last March that requires travel almost every week (which I will elaborate on in a future post), and 2) I got on Facebook. Soon after signing on, I realized that I am at least ten times more likely to get a comment from anything that I post on FB than I am here. And since I am a blatant comment whore, well, you can see why FB has lured me away from the blog. I have missed it, though, so thanks for your gentle nudging back to it.

When we last checked, Jessica had turned 21. She asked me about a year ago if I would take her to Las Vegas for her 21st birthday and I was happy to oblige. We went over Labor Day weekend. To those of you who have followed this blog from the start, you may remember my first November 4th post was about my dad, and how I met him in Las Vegas on Labor Day weekend. This past Labor Day marked the 25th anniversary of that meeting. Sadly, this trip we had to visit him at the cemetary, but it turned out to be a very nice visit. We hadn't seen his headstone, it has a cowboy hat on it. We sat down in the grass and told Grandpa stories and we could almost feel him laughing with us.

Other than that, we did the usual Vegas stuff, played some slots, went to a fancy restaurant, looked at the shops in Caesars Palace and Bellagio, saw the water show, visited the grand canal at the Venicia.

That is a key lime pie martini with graham cracker crust on the rim of the glass. To die for!

We had to go to Hoover Dam.

Full circle, that's me and Dad 25 years ago at Hoover Dam.

We stayed at the Luxor, the pyramid shaped hotel/casino. Because of the interesting shape, the elevator goes up and sort of sideways. They don't even call it an elevator, it's an inclinator. The evening we boarded along with several very loud, inebriated young women, it was quite amusing watching them try to stay upright.

We took this picture of the Hard Rock Cafe for my son, the guitarist. Figured he would appreciate the huge axe. He pointed out that the G string was missing.

And, of course, we had to have a picture in front of the famous sign. All in all, a wonderful weekend with my daughter. I have to say I am honored that my 21 year old wants to spend a long weekend in Vegas with me!

21 Already?!

2009-08-31T14:39:00.000-07:00

Twenty one years ago, this beautiful little person came into our lives.

Nurse: "Oh, whose little blonde baby girl is this?"
Randy: "MINE!"

First birthday at Chuck E. Cheese in Corpus Christi. She was the only little girl not screaming whenever Chuck E. or one of his friends came near.

This is on her second birthday. I didn't scan the photo of her in her pointy birthday hat stuffing cake into her mouth with her fist because it was Corpus Christi in August and the only thing she was wearing - besides the hat - was a diaper.

Her fifth birthday party at Ruttger's Resort in Bemidji, Minnesota, with her grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins.

Tenth birthday at her grandparents' new house in Eden Prairie, Minnesota. She and I spent the day at the Mall of America.

Fifteenth birthday at the bowling alley. A month later, she and her friend did their annual combined birthday party (Kate's birthday is in November). Kate's mom and I drove twelve kids to Greenleaf State Park where we rafted down a river. Then we checked into this cabin. Jan and I took the bed, the kids sacked out literally wall to wall in their bedrolls on the floor.

Last Saturday her friends threw her a party at the home of one friend's parents (who happen to have a backyard pool). They also rented a moonwalk.

Today we went to Stillwater to take her out to lunch at Chili's. She ordered a Jamaican Paradise, and boy, did her eyes light up when she got carded!

Happy Birthday Jess, we love you!

Back to the Wild

2009-08-19T13:52:00.000-07:00

Last month we went back to the Boundary Waters. There were seven of us, six from last year plus a newbie. Our son and his bride weren't able to accompany us. It was the general consensus that we would not portage this year, no canoe carrying or schlepping of large, heavy packs. On that note, we set out from a different outfitter onto a very large lake.

We paddled out in search of a campsite. We came around a bend to see our first choice, which had a large, flat rock sloping down to a nice sandy beach. Unfortunately, there were several tents up and a naked guy standing on the rock, so we kept paddling. We didn't see any more naked guys, but every campsite we came to was already occupied, so we kept paddling. We'd been on the lake quite awhile by then and were getting a bit concerned about the availability of campsites. We were in an area where there had been some fires a few years back, and also a massive blowdown of trees during one storm that produced very strong straight line winds, so some of the campsites were uninhabitable. The thing was, the sky was starting to look ominous and the lake was getting choppy, and we had several confabs as to who was reading the map correctly.

We finally found a nice site just as the sky opened up and dumped its entire contents on our heads. Thank God for rain suits. We managed to get camp set up and the rain stopped long enough for us to get supper. Here are our resident engineers contemplating the design for putting up the food packs.

It rained a good portion of the night and then off and on all the next day, making it a day suitable for sitting in the tents and visiting and reading, or under the tarp, not so much for exploring or fishing. The following day, however, was beautiful.

Trevin cleaned his first fish, and he even had some fun with the fish head. Just kind of stuck his fingers into it and turned it into a little Billy Bass. This was Jessica's reaction.

The mosquitoes were out in full force this year, so I resorted to walking about with this on my head. I think I should send it to the What Not To Wear people and see if I can make them stroke out.

The next morning we paddled back out, took showers, stopped in Grand Marais for lunch, and headed back to The Cities. I collected scrapbooks from last year so I can add our new adventure and our new memories. All in all a fun trip. I think these two pictures sum it up nicely.

Going to the Chapel and We're Gonna Get Married . . .

2009-08-03T08:05:00.000-07:00

Everyone has been asking for more wedding photos, so here they are!

With best man, cousin Bob.

Being escorted to my seat by my ever so handsome son.

How did I get such gorgeous children? And would you check out those hot pink shoes!

Is this a wedding party or the Minnesota mafia?

Pastor Paul loves weddings!

That is a Hudson like the one in the movie "Cars." Very cool.

The fab four.

Weddings do make for some of the best pictures ever.

Road Trip Part 3

2009-07-21T18:57:00.001-07:00

Between work and car accidents, I haven't had time to post the last leg of the road trip to Atlanta. We started out from the hotel in Atlanta at something called a cyclorama, which was a 42' high, 360 degree painting of the battle of Atlanta. You are seated stadium style and rotated (slowly) while the narrator points out key pieces of the battle and the painting. From there, on to Graceland. Have to say it in pictures.

The infamous jungle room. Yeah, that's green shag carpeting ON THE CEILING!

This used to be a raquetball court.

From there we went to the Jack Daniels distillery in Tennessee and the Clinton presidential library in Little Rock. Then home and back to work. That's a tromp l'oeil wooden bench. You can sit on Hillary's lap.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we are off to return to the Boundary Waters Wilderness Canoe Area. We have hubby and me, his parents, Jess and two of her friends. The kids didn't want to portage this year, so we are taking a long haul across a big lake and setting up camp. I have some home remedies for mosquitoes (that smell ever so nasty) that I'm hopeful will keep them at bay. I'll let you know . . .

Footnote: We went out for Chinese last night for my birthday and Trevin's fortune cookie said this: You will soon be crossing great waters on a fun vacation. Bodes well for the mosquito situation. Indeed.

Close Call

2009-07-06T17:42:00.000-07:00

Every time my daughter leaves in her vehicle, I say a prayer for her safety, and I thank God for keeping her safe. He sure came through last night.

Jess and her BFF, Trevin, were driving in the dark on a dirt road (not much else to do in these parts) when a deer jumped in front of the car. Trev swerved to miss it (instinctual) and they went into a ditch and hit a tree. The impact was on the right front, so the side air bags deployed. That's where Jess was sitting.

They called the police and the parents. Several cars driving by stopped and asked if they could help. One of them was coming home from a weekend at the lake and had water in his cooler, which they greatly appreciated. The tow truck came and they got back into town a little after midnight. Jess had a huge bruise on her right arm and something of a burn from the air bag. She and I went to the chiropractor. He x-rayed her to make sure nothing was broken and fixed her up as much as possible. She's just going to be sore for awhile. We went down later to get some stuff out of the car. Not a pretty sight.

So again, praise to God for keeping them safe, and thank God for air bags and seat belts. And kids that, after that ordeal, are able to walk away and be goofballs.

Road Trip Part 2

2009-07-01T19:50:00.000-07:00

Hubby had a seminar Saturday, so my camera and I set out to explore Atlanta. We started at the aquarium.

From there, we went to the Rhodes house, also known as 'the castle on Peachtree Street.' It was built in 1904 by Amos Rhodes, a furniture magnate, in Romanesque Revival style, copied from some castles Amos saw in Europe. It was one of the first places in Atlanta to have electric lights. It also had a form of security system and an intercom system. Quite avant garde.

Those tall windows on the curved part of the building are protected from the sun from the outside because they are marvelous on the inside.

They appear to be stained glass, but they are actually painted. A pair of brothers from Germany painted some windows that won awards at the world's fair. Amos commissioned them to paint windows depicting scenes from the United States Civil War, and they are amazing.

There was a period beginning in the sixties when the house was empty for about two decades. City officials were afraid the windows would be damaged or vandalized, so they moved them (keep in mind, they are 15 feet tall) AND the mahogony staircase, to the archives building until they reopened the home for tourists. I'd kind of like to know how you go about moving such things.

From the Rhodes house, I went to the Margaret Mitchell house and saw where she wrote "Gone With the Wind," pretty cool. Then the Atlanta History Center and back to the hotel to rest up for the Jack Daniels distillery and Graceland on the way back home.

Road Trip

2009-06-27T16:37:00.000-07:00

A journey of 2000 some miles starts with a single . . . tank of gas, a cooler with sandwiches, juice, water and veggies, some snacks, a couple of laptops (working vacation), a few suitcases and a camera. Hubby had a seminar in Atlanta and we decided to drive so we could see some fun stuff along the way. And drive was pretty much what we did the first day. The terrain changed a lot from our neck of the woods and we stopped in Jasper, Alabama for the night. Next morning we drove into Atlanta, checked into our hotel and headed for the World of Coca Cola Museum.

The museum chronicles the history of Coke, has tons of Coke memorabilia and at the end of the tour you can taste over 60 Coke proucts from all over the world. Some of them are yummy, some taste like water, and some taste how I would imagine some of the yuckier Harry Potter Bertie Botts jelly beans would taste.

We made a stop at the Hard Rock cafe and I liked their neon sign out front. Oh, and the car stuck into the side of the building.

On our way back to catch the train to the airport, we encountered what has to be the longest escalator in the world. It was so long and steep that the floor below us looked like the wall, and we had to hold onto the railing to keep from tipping over.

When we got back to the hotel, we encountered what has to be the biggest tow truck in the world. It was, as they say, a badass.

But I guess you have to be a big honkin' tow truck if you're going to haul this thing around.

So that was our first afternoon in Atlanta. I get as much of a kick out of the mundane but funky things as I do out of the touristy things. Little things amuse me. We did get to see some other cool touristy things, though, so there'll be more pics coming up.

(There will also be more wedding stuff, but I'm waiting for some photos.)

New Definition of Biker Chicks

2009-05-20T19:01:00.000-07:00

First wedding story. We (moms, sisters, bridemaids, etc.) at the salon getting our hair done. Sipping mimosas, although I thought nine a.m. was a little early to be imbibing. Didn't participate.

Very nice salon, though, catering to us. I got my hair done in record time. The whole salon experience was fairly perfunctory, except that the photographer happened to be a bit avant garde. He looked out the window and saw some bikers. He said to me "I'm going to go out and ask those bikers if they'll let the bridesmaids sit on their motorcycles." I said "Go for it." He came back in and said "They're cool with it." So we went outside (and it was cold) and got some pics. They didn't actually sit on the bikes, but the photographer told them to get the biker attitude.

What I thought was amusing, and I should have totally gotten a picture of it . . . the bikers (leather, chains, do-rags) all pulled out their cameras and took pictures. Love it!

Nearly Wordless Wedding

2009-05-13T15:28:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a cue from some of Jeff's wordless and nearly wordless blog posts. I can't believe our little dude is getting married on Saturday!

First solo, flight instructor Dad

We love you so much and wish you both a world of happiness. Can't wait to be part of your big day!

Stay tuned for wedding pics.

Mother Nature Says No to Home Show

2009-04-26T11:38:00.000-07:00

The home show was going very well, good attendance, even in this economy. Had some interest in the business. The booth was in good shape. Jess and I took a break to look at the other booths and sample dips and cheese balls.

The show ran until seven last night, so I came home late afternoon to make some tacos. Hubby and Jess came home, we ate supper and were watching the television when Rick Mitchell came on to say that we had some nasty weather heading our way. Hubby got three motorcycle helmets and we went into our laundry room, because it's at the center of the house away from windows. The tornado sirens went off five or six times and we listened to storms hit and then fade away. Finally, they told us we could come out of our hidey holes.

Shortly afterward, they started showing pictures on the television about the tornadoes that had hit north Enid, which is where we live. In fact, the Expo Center, where the home show was being held (two miles east of our house), took a direct hit. Obviously, the home show was cancelled for today. We went over a couple of hours ago to see what was left of our booth, if anything.

This is the main part of the building. Our booth, however, was way down at the other end, near that awning on the right side of this photo.

This was a utility pole out by the street.

This is what we saw when we went in to see if any of our stuff was salvageable. This had been the booth behind ours. One of the back doors had been blown off, so everything in that buiding got tossed around for awhile.

This was taken from where our booth had been. Some of our pamphlets are over there, the blue ones. Oh, and that pink bowl was one of the ones we had candy in on our table.

Jessica had taken the balloons and put them in her car last night, I'm not sure why. We had a couple of boxes of pamphlets and flyers, some candy, a few snacks, a pot of flowers, and our banner. They were all there, still intact. All in all, we got lucky. But our booth doesn't much resemble the photo from the last post.

And that's how we do an Oklahoma home show!

Weekend Warriors

2009-04-24T14:42:00.000-07:00

Our town is holding its semi-annual home show this weekend and hubby decided it would be fun to rent a booth. He's going to be promoting his engineering and business consulting, and plant design. Jessica will be drumming up business for her web design division of the company. I'm going to be the one who runs out for food or a pot of flowers because the table is 'not colorful enough' or whatever else needs to be done.

The show goes five hours this afternoon and evening, ten tomorrow and six on Sunday. Not your typical weekend, but it will probably be an interesting one!

If we weren't doing this, I would probably be in St. Cloud, Minnesota for Jeff's CD release party. Congratulations and have fun, Jeff!

I Think That I Shall Never See a Thing as Heavy as a Tree

2009-04-19T15:40:00.001-07:00

When we lived in Minnesota, our next door neighbors were Bill and Lois. They are still some of our dearest friends. Bill is really smart and very kind. He is also a character. One day, he decided he was going to cut down the tree at the corner of his house. He had it rigged so that it would fall out into his back yard, missing his garden, the garage, and all the other trees around. It was a good plan. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

I had just come home with the kids. We came out of the garage and started up the driveway and then stopped because Bill was taking a chain saw to a tree. We knew something exciting was about to happen. And it did. The tree fell, but instead of taking the preferred path down, it came out at an angle from the house, in a direct line with where my son, who was seven, was standing. I was not concerned, because I knew the tree was not tall enough to make it to the driveway, but he didn't. The tree fell, taking out their clothesline and ours, the ground shook, and Curtis burst into tears. Lois came out of the house and yelled at Bill for upsetting Curtis. Bill got his chain saw, cut up the tree, and righted the clotheslines.

So you can imagine my interest yesterday when hubby came home from Saturday breakfast with the boys to tell me that they were going over to one of the guys' house to cut down a tree. Where's my camera? Bill, you may want to take notes.

Lots of ropes controlling the path of the limbs.

The first of two big limbs coming down, spewing smaller limbs everywhere.

Now that the second big limb is down, it's a matter of cutting it up and cutting the trunk down to a stump. When that was done, they loaded it onto a trailer using a crane. Then they hauled it to the dump, where it weighed in at 1540 pounds.

I'm just glad no clotheslines were harmed in the cutting down of this tree.

Road Trip

2009-03-31T15:04:00.001-07:00

I did some work related travel last week and it turned into a bit of an adventure. Check it out.

Yeah, that was fun.

White Stuff

2009-03-28T11:47:00.000-07:00

Wasn't spring nice this year? But it sure went by so dang fast. What happened to my pretty hanging basket?

Ah, I see. Now there are things hanging from my hanging basket. Well, doesn't look like a good day for a walk.

Or a cup of tea on the patio.

This little guy doesn't know what the hell just happened.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put on my coat and my Sorels and walk to the curb to get the mail. Tune in in about three and a half to four months when I will be bitching and moaning about the heat.

Is It Spring? Check 'yes' or 'no'

2009-03-26T12:11:00.000-07:00

Ah, spring in Oklahoma. Isn't it lovely? All the blooming, beautiful colors.

So isn't it really too bad that tomorrow afternoon we won't be able to see them because they'll be buried UNDER A HALF FOOT OF $#@%^&* SNOW!!! Okay, I'm done now.

Tiger Would be Proud

2009-03-21T19:09:00.000-07:00

Country Club Membership: $10,000 per annum

Small child golf clubs: $39.98
Small child golf duds: $34.99

Teaching your grandson to play golf: Priceless.

For the record, I took this at a local country club on the way home from job training. I love golf, but there is no way I would pay that much for it. Just saying.

What's in a Name?

2009-03-14T14:19:00.000-07:00

Someone sent me an interesing e-mail the other day, and I feel compelled to share. It was a list of legitimate companies who have seriously flawed web addresses. For instance, there is a website where you can go to find the name of the agent that represents any given celebrity. I don't know why you'd want to, but if you do, just go to www.whorepresents.com.

The next one is a knowledge base where programmers can exchange advice and views, called Experts Exchange. They had the good sense to change their domain name, probably because they were getting hits from pervs at this address: www.expertsexchange.com.

Then there is a wonderful pen company, where you can get custom made writing instruments. Unfortunately, their web address evokes an image that has nothing to do with fountain pens. Check them out at www.penisland.net. Please note: that's dot net, NOT dot com.

Need a therapist? You can find one at www.therapistfinder.com. You can check out an Italian power generator company at www.powergenitalia.com. Or IP computer software at www.ip_anywhere.com.

Last, but not least, you can find the designers at Speed of Art at their wonderful site, www.speedofart.com. I'm going to lob this one into Jeff's court because he is the expert on all things poopy and gaseous, and he was asking for blog post ideas awhile back. It's okay, Jeff, you can thank me later.

Would You Please Repeat That?

2009-02-22T12:31:00.001-08:00

I was channel surfing the other night and caught the end of "Blade Runner." That's special in our house because my first date with hubby was to see "Blade Runner." It also has one of my favorite movie quotes. The replicant, Batty, is sitting on a rooftop with Deckard, in the rain, and he is dying.

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time . . . like tears in rain. Time to die."

That got me to thinking about other memorable movie quotes. Two of my favorites are from Jimmy Dugan, the coach in "A League of Their Own." "THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!"
"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great."

"Month Python and the Holy Grail" has enough good quotes for a dozen blog posts. Here are a couple of gems.

"Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries."

I could sit here and quote movies all afternoon, but I am supposed to be making curtains and balancing my checkbook, so I'll just sign off with one of the all time greats.

"I know what you're thinking. Did he fire 6 shots, or only 5? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya' . . . punk?"

Well, here we are

2009-02-07T21:18:00.000-08:00

Okay, as a mom who always looks at what her kids are doing and pictures the worst case, I have to say this doesn't look good. I'm talking running with scissors, leaning back in your chair and cracking open your head.

Seriously, is this a good idea?

Global Warming - Yeah, Right

2009-01-27T15:18:00.000-08:00

This is the view from the front door today.

It's a good day to stay inside and get some work done. Or battle cabin fever by working on a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle.

The real subject of this post, though, is my grandog. Our daughter was here with her puppy over Christmas break, and again last weekend. That little critter has more personality than any dog I've ever known. You can't look at her without smiling. Her name is Lucy, but she is also called Lucille and, occasionally, Lucifer.

She has several things that sort of define her personality. She's a thief, she's a jumper, and she's a runner. You don't want to leave anything, especially a sock, lying around on the floor, because she will steal it and run like the wind away from you. She's very sneaky about it. If she happens upon a pile of laundry, she'll look at you sideways, nonchalantly pick up a sock, turn around and walk a few steps, then streak out like lightning. She takes great sport in knowing that she will be pursued.

She jumps like a cat. She can scale things you would never believe her short little legs could get her onto. And when she wants down, she doesn't really jump or slide, she launches herself out into the air, reminiscent of the final scene in Thelma and Louise.

The running part isn't so fun. If she happens to get out without a leash, she will take off in any direction and you can't possibly catch her unless she stops because she runs at cheetah speed. Which almost stroked me out a few weeks ago when she got out and made a beeline across the street where our neighbors were backing both cars out of their driveway. I went chasing after her screaming at the top of my lungs and waving my arms. "LUCY! STOP!" I guess it was sufficiently maniacal that the neighbors heard it and both stopped, one of them inches from Lucy's body. When I came back in the house, I had to sit down because I couldn't feel my legs.

But one of the most striking things about her is that she bears a striking resemblance to this critter.

Which is why she's also sometimes referred to as Gizmo.

It's Not a Myth

2009-01-08T18:41:00.000-08:00

Gee, you look away, have a wedding, a visit with your son and future daughter-in-law, do Christmas with them, then do the 'real' Christmas and New Year's, look back, and it's been three weeks since your last blog post.

So, there was this quaint little restaurant downtown that had soups, salads and sandwiches for lunch every day. They closed last October. Meantime, there is a small place at our regional airport, Woodring, that does okay, but not all that great. Here is the story of the new place.

I thought it was interesting. Jessica's friend from school was visiting for break, so we all went to have lunch. It was a madhouse. The place was packed. There was a long table, which was three square tables pushed together. There were two elderly women at the end, the three of us parked at the middle one, and there were three good ol' boys at the other end. The wait staff was frantic but trying to please everyone. Somehow, they managed to combine our ticket with the three guys at the next table. We all realized it (except the wait staff, which was understandable, given how busy they were). The guys kept making jokes about how we were going to pay for their lunch. We were having a good laugh about it.

But when it came time for the bill, they had to leave, and they took the entire check. They said "We're paying for ya'll," and they did. Which is good ol' boys being really sweet to women. But that's Oklahoma. So I guess there is such a thing as a free lunch.

Bittersweet

2008-12-16T19:43:00.000-08:00

I went to a Board meeting today for Youth and Family, whose new shelter has been featured repeatedly on this blog. Right after we wrapped up the meeting, someone came in and yelled "Hey, they're tearing down the old building!" Which was something we'd been waiting for, and had been delayed a bit by crummy weather. But that has been our agency for thirty years. Despite the fact that the Christmas tree fell through the floor a few years ago, and parts of the kitchen had been condemned and we were putting band-aids on bleeding wounds . . . it was a refuge for thousands of children. We love our new building, but it was hard to watch the old one come down.

That used to be one of the girl's rooms.

So, the end of an era. We love the new, it's hard to see the old, no matter how decrepit, go.

On a lighter note, I was visiting with a couple of the Board members and got this story. Last week, we had a snowstorm. The weather, roads, and visibility were all crap. C was at a medical clinic and they asked her to go across the street to the hospital for a procedure, for which she would need an epidural. She said she'd walk and they advised her to drive . . .??? Anyway, she pulled out of the clinic, which is on a hill, slid, there was a car coming down and she couldn't stop, it honked, she hit the rear end of it. She got out, the other driver got out, and it was another Board member, J. They've been friends for years, so the first thing they did was hug. Damage to the vehicles was almost non-existent, so they got back in them and went about their business.

Meanwhile, C goes to the hospital and, in her words, "have my butt up in the air so they can figure out where to put the needle," and the woman administering the needle is telling the nurse how she just witnessed an accident outside and "they HUGGED!" So C, butt in the air, says "Yeah, that would be me." I have to say, we got a good cackle out of it.

Office Space

2008-12-11T17:00:00.000-08:00

When hubby quit his job and started a consulting firm two and a half years ago, he started on the dining room table. It was practical, he wasn't sure where and when he wanted to rent office space. It was fine until such time as he had enough business to merit piles of paperwork, and the dining table ended up looking like this.

I loathe clutter, so I would try to not look at it. But every six months or so, I would freak out and say why does the @#*&%*&@#!$!## house have to look like something off Clean Sweep?

We have a spare bedroom that I wanted to make into an office. It tends to be the place where everything goes that I don't want to deal with right now, so there have been times that I had to wade through junk on the floor to get to the window to open the shades.

Meanwhile, our daughter moved into an apartment last fall, and her room was largely empty, or, as she put it when she came home one weekend, sad.

Hubby and I both wanted an office in the spare room, but we disagreed on a fundamental item - the desk. I wanted a nice wood computer desk, maybe a dining room table sized desk facing it, and a bookcase. He didn't like the stuff I liked and he thought it was cheapo. He wanted something more industrial. I was picturing something like a metal desk with green sides, and I didn't want the home office to have that look.

My non-profit just moved into our new shelter and didn't take everything from the old one, so we had a big sale a few weeks ago. One of the sale items was a desk from our Office Manager's office. I liked it because it was nice wood and he liked it because it was sturdy. Okay, the thing is six feet long and weighs a ton.

We brought it home. The next day, hubby was out for around three hours running errands. When he came home, he had an office. I had cleared out all the junk, reformed the entire east wing of the house. He was shocked. He had underestimated how much I loathed the clutter, and underappreciated that I only blew up every six months or so. He said it was like a spring unloaded.

And Jessica's room is no longer sad.

And best of all, we have a dining room table. Just in time for Christmas!

So Peter Walsh will not be visiting me anytime soon. Well,unless he looks at the garage . . . .

Do You Know the Gingerbread Man?

2008-11-30T18:52:00.000-08:00

I have always liked gingerbread houses. They're so pretty, they're so Christmas. They remind me of the dollhouse I had as a child and even kind of the Barbie Palace Jess had as a child. Or the Legos the kids had. Small houses fascinate me. Probably because they are not so large that I can't control the cleaning of them or the possible freakout of the water heater that ruins the carpet in the closet, or the weird rupture of something under the kitchen sink that ruins the floors of the kitchen and dining room, which actually turned out to be a good thing because those floors were horrible and the insurance paid to replace them.

Jess and I tried constructing a gingerbread house some years ago, made the gingerbread from scratch, even. It was a disaster. We figured we'd made the gingerbread too heavy for the icing that was supposed to hold it together.

So hubby and I were in Sam's Club a couple of weeks ago and I saw a gingerbread house kit that had EVERYTHING you need to make one. It was only ten bucks and I thought maybe we could redeem ourselves and have a pleasant mother/daughter afternoon doing so.

Here's what happened. That's our scarecrow in the background. He's supposed to be outside, but it's been so windy that we have let him stay in, rather than get blown into the next county. I don't know what happened to the center of the box, but it looks quite creepy. What the focus is supposed to be is the upper left corner. That's the quintessential gingerbread house.

So we were decorating the roof and sides of the house and then we attempted to put it together. It worked.

At first. Until this happened.

We tried a number of things after that and it didn't turn out well for the house. Here is our attempt at keeping up the roof.

We however, did have a nice mother/daughter time eating frosting, candy, and gingerbread. The bottom line was that the house fell down and killed all the snowmen. The carnage was horrendous.

We probably won't be trying this again soon.

Giving Thanks

2008-11-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

My non-profit had a 'garage sale' after we moved out of the old buiding, and hubby bought a huge desk. That is a whole other blog post. But, I got to set up an office for him and move his stuff from the dining room table and living room floor into the 'spare' bedroom. After which I went into a cleaning frenzy and spent about 16 hours Monday and Tuesday sprucing things up. So Wednesday, I did the mani-pedi thing.

While my feet were being pampered, I listened to a conversation between a woman getting a manicure and the owner of the nail establishment. It started out with her asking him if he had ever smoked, and he replied that he never had, but his father does. And then the conversation went something like where does your father live, Oklahoma City, have you always lived in Oklahoma and he said no. He said that his father used to work for the North Vietnamese government, until they changed and became Communist, after which his father spent 8 years in a Vietnamese prison. They were finally able to make some sort of application to come to the United States "and have freedom."

He said that a church sponsered them to come to the United States and paid for their housing and food for the first several months they were here trying to get on their feet. Once they were employed and had steady income, they paid the church back every penny. He lived in California for awhile, but didn't like it because people were too materialistic and life was too fast paced. He likes living in small town Oklahoma where the cost of living is good and things are more laid back.

"I don't need a lot of money. My business is good, I can buy a house, I can raise my children in a free country. That's all we need. We're very happy."

His appreciation for everything he has, and his humility, really made an impression on me. Here we are complaining about the price of gas, the plummeting stock market, crappy economy and a lot of other things, and we take our freedom for granted. I was glad I was present to hear his story, and freedom was one of the things at the top of my blessings list on Thanksgiving.

Foodnetwork.not

2008-11-12T09:21:00.000-08:00

I love the food network. And I love to cook. I like trying new things, sometimes getting fancy, but mostly cooking is a way of nurturing. For instance, I spent last Sunday afternoon using leftover turkey to make a pot pie and a casserole to send back to school with my daughter. After which, I made a batch of apple cinnamon jelly and a batch of hot pepper relish.

The food network has started doing holiday shows, which fascinate me. The fascination part being how they can spend so much time doing things that are completely unnecessary. There are some things we can do without.

We don't really need to talk about fruitcake because we all know there are many uses for fruitcake that do not include ingesting it. Speed bumps, sending it to the troops so they can drop it on the enemy, the list is endless.

Mincemeat. The dried fruit is good, but then you get to the meat. It reminds me of the 'Friends' episode where Rachel makes the trifle, mixes up the pages in the cookbook and puts beef sauteed with onions in the middle. "It tastes like feet!"

Giblet gravy. I like it but my family will gag and run for the barf pan if I put anything in the gravy besides maybe mushrooms. So I just eat the liver, gizzard and heart myself, which grosses them out anyway. In our house, gravy comes from a can.

Scalloped potatoes. Thanksgiving potatoes are mashed and covered with canned gravy. And the potatoes come out of a box. You mix them with milk and some butter. I used to boil potatoes and mash them until I discovered that my family liked the kind in the box better.

Homemade egg nog. Alton Brown has a recipe that uses 4 eggs, a pint of whole milk, a cup of heavy cream, some sugar, bourbon and freshly ground nutmeg. Egg nog comes in a carton. You pour it out into a glass and, if you like, you add some booze. Feel free to sprinkle some nutmeg, from a small can, on top.

Stuffing with nuts or worse, oysters or sausage. I like oysters, just not in my stuffing. Stuffing comes in a box. You add water and butter.

Last, but by no means least, cranberry sauce. The food network chefs go out into the bog and pick fresh cranberries, bring them home and do weird things to them. They add nuts and other kinds of fruit and make a huge deal out of the 'presentation' and how beautiful the dish is. Cranberry sauce should have can lines. Period.

Scrooge City

2008-10-31T16:13:00.000-07:00

That's me on the right. Because much like Linus, somebody ruined Halloween. Our doorbell just rang for the first time tonight, and I didn't answer it. I felt a pang because I loved Halloween when I was a kid, and again when my kids were little. I always liked opening the door to small, adorable children in cute costumes. The problem is, the past couple of years have shown a dearth of small, adorable children in cute costumes, and a glut of rude, obnoxious brats.

When we lived in a small town in Oklahoma, I opened the door to kids I knew. Even after we moved here, I still knew the neighborhood kids. Now, kids come from neighboring towns, and other neighborhoods in the city, in large vans that they park at the end of the street. I don't know them and frankly, I'm beginning to feel a little like Joe the Plumber. I also don't like jacked up candy prices, especially when I am handing out three times what I used to. And I really hated it a couple of years ago when a kid threw his candy back into my bowl and said he wanted Reese's. Oh, and later that night when the doorbell rang at 10:30, I wasn't very happy. So, I am totally Scrooging out this year and opting out of Halloween. I may pay for it with toilet paper antics, or worse, but I guess that's a chance I'm willing to take.

So on that bitchy note, I would like to thank everyone who shows up and reads this blog - today is my two year blogiversary. Yay!

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2008-10-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

In one of my very earliest posts, I wrote about my penchant for eavesdropping on other peoples' conversations while out in public. A slight variation of that happened last week when I treated myself to a mini-spa day, with a mani-pedi and a haircut. While I was getting a pedicure, a woman came in for a fill and a pedicure. She seemed quite, shall we say, outgoing (loud), and asked everyone in attendance what color polish she should get. She said she wanted something that would compliment her tan, after which she told the room that everyone she knew could go into the tanning bed and fall asleep, but she couldn't. As a result, she just lies in the tanning bed, bored. As she sat down, she commented on the elevator music, asking, "Where's the rock and roll?"

The pedicurist had her sit down while she ran the water. The client put her feet in it and said that no, it wasn't too hot. She said she liked hot water. I said, "The water feels good, my feet have been cold all morning." To which she replied, "Yeah, I can't shower with my husband because I have to have the water HOT and he likes it lukewarm." Oh, I KNOW you didn't just say that to me because that is way too much information. Thankfully, my pedi was almost over and I got to leave before I found out what may have been even more revealing details about her and her husband.

I heard several conversations a few weekends ago, when we were at an airshow with an attendance of 35,000 people. The one that stuck with me was a woman, about my age, on her cell phone as everyone was leaving. "I'm on my way now, what is wrong with you? God, why do you have to be so %#@*ing rude?" Gee, I don't know. Because it's so polite to yell %#@*ing rude in a crowd, particularly one with multitudes of small children.

Last, my daughter and I were at Red Lobster a few weeks ago. There was a table near us with four people, who appeared to be co-workers lunching outside the office. They made no attempt to be discreet about any of their table talk, which was mostly mundane. At one point, though, I heard the only woman at the table loudly exclaim: "The man is obsessed with donkeys. He absolutely LOVES donkeys!" Guess we know who he'll be voting for next month.

Hunkering Down

2008-10-13T18:23:00.000-07:00

Some people call it nesting, but I'm okay with hunkering down. It's the way I roll in the fall when I want to clean and cook. You know I like my jam and jelly. I love the way it smells and how pretty it is in the jars, and the popping of the lids.

Here is another favorite. There is a roast underneath all of that. Around the roast are carrots, celery, onion, red, green and yellow peppers, and two kinds of squash. That all goes in the baking stone, along with some broth. I used to put potatoes in the mix, but I ended up with so many veggies that I now nuke the potatoes separately. I made that last night. So tonight, I cut up the leftovers, tossed in a can of corn, some leftover peas, a tomato, and some salt and pepper, and, with some crusty bread, we had another meal. We have enough for tomorrow night also. I have to say a big pot of soup is great for our first real fall night. We got a cold front from the north and it's been rainy and gray all day.

In addition, as an update on my September 4th post, in which I mentioned Alfie the Squirrel, he has decided to be part of the family. He comes to whatever window he thinks will give him a view of me (desk, living room, bedroom) and looks in so that I will bring pecans. He has gotten so comfortable with me that he takes pecans out of my hand. I go out to the back porch and hold them out. He comes to my hand, puts his little paws around my finger, takes the pecan in his mouth, looks at me and runs away to stash it somewhere. I really like the little guy.

Pssst! Don't tell my father-in-law. He hates squirrels.

This 'n' That

2008-10-11T11:10:00.000-07:00

The move-in to the shelter was hectic, and we didn't get phones or internet until Tuesday, so it was still somewhat chaotic. Here are some highlights of the week.

On Saturday, hubby and I went out to Vance Air Force Base (our house is in the flight path for landings, so we get a lot of jet traffic overhead) because they were having a huge airshow. We only wanted to go mid-afternoon to see the Thunderbirds. We drove out, fought traffic, found a parking spot in a field, I turned around to get my camera . . . and realized it was sitting on my desk where I'd been loading photos of the big move. My zoom lens was in the bag in the back seat, and it would have taken some awesome pictures had it actually been connected to a camera. Oh well, maybe next time. The show was amazing anyway. I don't know how many times I've seen them perform, but it never ceases to impress.

I could have taken this picture. You know, if I'd had a camera.

Of course this time of year one always must decorate for Halloween, Thanksgiving, Harvest etc. It would be nice if the wind would simmer down a bit. Every time I go outside my little scarecrow is saying "Linda, help me, I've fallen and I can't get up."

Thursday night Jess came home for the weekend with a friend. We have graduated from Guitar Hero to Rock Band II which has, in addition to the guitar, drums and a mike for vocals.

While they played that, I slaved over a hot stove making chili for the United Way Chili Cookoff the following day. YFS always has a booth there. I'm surprised my house doesn't still smell like chili.

The cookoff was, as always, a success, with 37 booths. I'm proud to say our chili won second place, and we will get a nice plaque for our shiny new building. Thanks to April for the recipe.

Last but not least, hubby came in last night and said that my van had been 'violated.' Jess and Andrew had decided to jazz it up.

Don't ask me what a hornbeam is because I have no clue. Here is Jessica's signature vampire. She also likes to make this on the back window when the van needs washing.

And this is a tribute to Live's song "All Over You," which she and I crank and sing along with and giggle because the words make no sense.

"Our love is like water,
Pinned down and abused for being strange."

So . . . that is the week in review. Fun, busy, pinned down and abused for being strange. Just kidding. Looking forward to what the next week will bring. Well, I think I am. At least the stock market will be closed on Monday.

Home at Last

2008-10-05T15:24:00.000-07:00

Jessica came home from school last Thursday night and Friday morning we got up to head for Youth and Family Services around seven o'clock. Our Development Director had arrived even earlier to put up this banner and set out this cake.

Several more Board members arrived, followed by some staff. We knew we were in for a long, hard day, but we were pumped up!

We hired professional movers for the big stuff, but staff and volunteers carried everything else: plants, paper, files, phones, kitchen stuff, food from the shelter, toys, bedding and whatever else you can imagine would be in a youth shelter/counseling center. Here is our fearless leader (ED) hauling files.

That's the son of one of our counselors, another counselor and my daughter.

We broke at eleven for sandwiches and fruit and vegetable trays in one of our beautiful new rooms.

Our Executive Director told the shelter staff that he wanted the shelter to be as close to normal as possible before the kids got back from school, around 3:30 that afternoon. They hustled in the kitchen, in the common area, unpacked bedding, Jess and I made beds. This is what it looked like at ten a.m.

And this is what it looked like when the kids came in. Our agency has the most dedicated staff and Board, willing to do whatever it takes for our kids. I stayed until 4:30 and Jess stayed another hour or more after that. It was a long, completely rewarding day.

And yes, we're finally home.

Gingerbread Man

2008-09-15T18:44:00.000-07:00

So, when hubby was studying for his professional engineering license, he became interested in Fresnel lenses, which are pretty cool. I realized that they were magnifying lenses, but wasn't aware that they are also what is used to bring ships safely home via lighthouses. Hubby acquired a few Fresnel lenses, one being about the size of a magnifying glass, another being very thin and plastic. He used it to light the fire when we were in the Boundary Waters. It worked much better than rubbing two sticks together.

He also acquired one that was fairly large. He and our daughter amused themselves by melting pennies on the driveway. I've seen mean boys burn ants with magnifying glasses, but I have to say I was impressed by how little time it took to melt copper, and I think we might have started a driveway fire with not much trouble.

Hubby and daughter also took a welding class together last summer, just for grins, something new to do in their spare time. This is the frame she made for him, compliments of welding class, for Father's Day. Love the picture of them before class.

With that background, here is a dream I had several days ago.

I was in the kitchen when hubby and daughter came in from the garage, wearing their welding gear. They had scouted scrap metal because they were going to make the world's largest cookie cutter. After which they were going to make the world's largest cookie. It was going to be a gingerbread man. Their biggest dillemma was how to mix that much dough. And then there was the question of how and where to bake it. But they had pretty much decided on the driveway and something to do with the Fresnel lens. The phone rang and I, thankfully, awoke. Because what the hell am I going to do with the world's largest gingerbread man?

Given my penchant for cooking when the weather turns cooler, I can see a lot of cookies and jam coming up! Anyone want jam?

Alfie and Co.

2008-09-04T18:57:00.000-07:00

We live across the street from a vacant lot, which is owned by the people caddy-corner to us, who keep it neatly mowed and landscaped. Behind the lot is a lake, which is the reason we get a lot of interesting visitors in our back yard. Critters like large tortoises, large toads, mama ducks trailing babies and such.

One guy who has been here since we moved in four years ago (and has nothing to do with the lake) is a squirrel. He hangs out in the back yard and likes the tree just across our back fence. He also likes to tiptoe along the top of the fence. He amuses me when I am sitting at my desk.

A couple of years ago I was on the phone with my daughter, while I was sitting at my desk. I told her the squirrel was on the fence looking at me. She said that I should name him and that his name should be Alfred. Last winter, the day before a blizzard was supposed to hit, I saw Alfie in the yard with a large pecan. I don't know where he gets them, because I don't notice any pecan trees nearby, but he doesn't seem to stray far, so there must be some. Anyway, he dug a hole and buried the nut. Then, he went to another part of the yard, dug up a pecan, took it to a different location in the yard and buried it. He repeated this process several times until all the nuts were apparently in their most desirable locations. I had no idea we had all these buried nuts in the yard.

I was at a garage sale several months ago and bought a large bag of pecans, still in the shell. I thought Alfie might appreciate them. I tossed a few out and they stayed there for quite awhile. I figured Alfie didn't like nuts with human 'stuff' on them. But they did eventually disappear, so I threw out a few more. They were taken sooner than the first, so I continued tossing them. Long story short, Alfie has started expecting the pecans. He even has taken to coming to the window and looking in if I forget to toss them. Even if I do, he likes to check in. Last weekend, I was doing a workout in the living room and he decided to veg out on the chair on the porch and watch while I lifted weights. I have never seen a squirrel so laid back.

Later on that day, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Lo and behold, we had a rarely seen roadrunner in the back yard. He ran back and forth for awhile, flew up to the roof of the neighbor's shed, went back to run back and forth, then flew over to the fence and into the field behind the house.

Then, of course, we have this little mutt. Our daughter's new puppy who lives at her apartment with her and we dogsit from time to time. Including tonight. Yeah, she's getting the drift with the house training, but you can tell it was a struggle. I need to get out the steam cleaner.

Breaking Camp

2008-08-28T18:21:00.000-07:00

After three days of no bathing, lots of exercise, mosquitoes and no cell phones, the younger members of our camping expedition were fairly motivated to break camp and get back to civilization. I have to say I was looking forward to that shower myself, and I swear if I ever go there again, it will be when I invent something that annihilates blood sucking creatures for a hundred mile radius. We actually got up, some of us ate breakfast, took down our tents, packed up our gear, and shoved off at a little after seven a.m. The lake was like glass, so paddling was quick. Portaging took less time because, duh, there were showers at the other end.

We made it back to Sawbill, greatly enjoyed our showers, and headed for Duluth and a meal at Grandma's Saloon and Grill in Canal Park. We were hoping to get to see Bill and Lois, but there was a miscommunication and I'm sure Bill will never let me forget about it. I'm SORRY you wore your good clothes all day!

While reflecting on the trip myself, and with other family members, I have come to a conclusion about taking such a challenging excursion that most people would not call 'fun.'

I think that the eight of us are very different people in a lot of ways, but also very much the same in that we were willing to put ourselves out there, take risks, embrace challenges, both mental and physical. There were things about the trip that none of the eight of us was pleased to have to deal with (they were different for all of us, the same for some of us). There is something quite rewarding in the fact that we portaged, survived in the wilderness for a few days, didn't succumb totally to the insects, and managed to get along without a lot of amenities that we take for granted. Also, we managed to get along with one another in unusual circumstances, and not a whole lot of space to escape one another. And you get some bragging rights for being able to accomplish what we did. It's not a spa vacation, by any means. But when I look at the pictures, I know exactly why we did it and what I'm going to remember about it. I'm glad I went . . . and I'm glad for my traveling companions.

Now that is an un-messed-with photo, and it doesn't get more beautiful than that. The love of my life and a perfect morning.

Quiet Magic

2008-08-23T14:09:00.001-07:00

When you wake up in the Boundary Waters, you hear loons on the lake, birds chirping, maybe water lapping against the shore, and your fellow campers stirring. If you're lucky, the cooks are already up and you smell breakfast cooking on the fire. First order, of course, is to use the facilities, which doesn't take long because, well, yeah.

I don't know why it is, but meals always taste so much better when you are in the wilderness. And we were reaping the rewards of hauling in all that food because, boy, did we eat well!

After cleaning up from breakfast, your day is wide open. You can head out in a canoe to fish or explore other islands and lakes. I had a chance to read a book I hadn't had the time to start, take photographs, and have several nice conversations with family members. I got to sit down with my father-in-law and ask him questions about a journal his mother had written when she and some friends hitchhiked from Minnesota to Yellowstone in the summer of 1924, and it gave me an idea for a 'tween book.

Others of us busied themselves with catching supper.

Which the rest of us devoured, thank you very much Curtis and Grandma.

After such a hectic and stressful day, there's only one thing to do. Roast marshmallows and enjoy the sunset.

Which is exactly what we did.

Wondering Why

2008-08-18T18:04:00.000-07:00

I've had a couple of comments about why we are doing this Boundary Waters stuff. I told Lois I might comment on that in the next post, which would be this one. But I think I'll wait until the final one in this series. It'll make more sense.

We carried all our gear over two portages and found our campsite. Everyone put up their tents. We had a wide variety. Ours was a four man. This was home for a few nights.

There were a couple more two and three man tents, but then, we had the mansion across the way, which was the tent we gave our son for his birthday. I think it was a seven person tent.

Once we reached our campsite, we put up the tents, the portable table, hauled out the food and started supper. It was later than we thought we'd arrive, so we had to find a place to haul the food up for the night so that the bears wouldn't get it. We had unfortunately picked a site that didn't have trees that were accommodating for such a thing. It ended up that the food pack was strung between a couple of trees compliments of some creative tying and hubby hoisting our son on his shoulders to tie it up. Very impressive.

The first night was a little weird for most of us because it was so quiet and yet so loud. Noises we were not used to, like loons and, for some reason airplanes. People were sore from portaging. But we got up the next morning and had pancakes, eggs, and bacon for breakfast, and it was a beautiful day. Okay, the lake actually had sparkles.

And I have to say, these are not the faces of unhappy people.

We had no computers, television, or bars on cell phones. We had the wilderness, and it was marvelous. We had quiet and we had time to sit and talk with one another. We had a different way to live. Some of us freaked out over some of it (and I admit the airplanes in the wilderness freaked me out at three a.m.), but on the whole I think we handled the differentness very well. We were a wide variety of people.

Next . . . quiet magic.

The Ritual of the Portage

2008-08-14T18:20:00.000-07:00

So this is what happens when you portage. Portage is both a verb and a noun. It is the physical act of carrying the gear, but also the route on which the carrying is done. You take everything you brought, food, clothing, tent, sleeping bags, whatever you thought you couldn't live without for a few days, and put it into the canoe. Then, you paddle across a lake in whatever direction you've chosen, until you find a portage that you have selected on a map. Portages are pretty easy to see because they are a little different than the average shoreline. There is usually a bit of a clearing and a noticeable trail running up from the water's edge. Once you get close, you can see marks from previous canoes on the rocks, so you know you're in the right place.

Portages can be long or short. They are measured in rods, a rod being 5.5 yards, which is 16.5 feet, or roughly the length of a canoe. Sounds like not so long, but when you add a canoe that weighs about sixty pounds, or a Duluth pack full of food or cooking gear that weighs around thirty, factor in the rocks and, if it's been raining (which it had), the mud, it can be quite challenging.

The four youngest members of our group were surprised by the difficulty of the portages. The seventy-somethings and the fifty-somethings were carrying as much, if not more, of the weight of the gear. We all, however, had done this before and knew what to expect. The twenty-somethings did not. And I have to say, even I was a bit stunned by the portages. The reason being that when hubby and I went a quarter of a century ago, we had a 20 rod portage. And we were half our age. Still, the kids were troupers.

Once you're at this point, you have no bars on your cell phone. It looks like a nice little trail, but you're pretty much out on your own here. It took almost all of us making two trips down this trail to get our gear down. One of the reasons that we picked this particular week is because the mosquitoes are usually not as bad. We, however, experienced horribly large and aggressive insects while we were there. Deet wasn't very effective on them. I actually sprayed it right onto a mosquito on my jeans and I think it drank it.

This was our first portage, the second was ten rods longer. By the time we reached our destination, everyone was pretty tired. . .

The Land of Sky Blue Waters

2008-08-11T13:20:00.001-07:00

There is a place up north, at the border of the U.S. and Canada, called the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, which will be the subject of my next few posts. It's a magical, pristine place about which the likes of Longfellow waxed poetic. Here, you can really 'get away from it all.'

So what, you may wonder, would happen if, say, two seventy-somethings, two fifty-somethings and four twentyish-somethings all went up to the BWCAW together for a three night stay? Allow me to enlighten you.

Hubby applied for a permit last winter, and people are picked by lottery. There is a limit to the number of people who can go in one group, and if you want a specific time, you have to request it. We got the permit and the time slot we wanted, and the planning was under way. Hubby and I went to the BWCAW twice, the first two summers we were married. The last time was 24 years ago. His parents have been there many, many times and, as a result, have years of notes from trips, lists of equipment and food they took, menus from meals, and so forth. This wealth of information was where they and hubby began.

We got our group together: In-laws, hubby and me, our son and his fiancee, our daughter and her best friend, four canoes. The Oklahoma contingent had a twelve hour drive to get to the in-laws, and the van was loaded down.

The day after our long drive was for packing and loading. Which looked something like this.

A couple of us also set up our tents because they were new, and we didn't want any surprises once we got there and attempted to set up camp.

We set out early on Friday morning, heading north, the direction of Lake Gitchee Gumee. We made one stop in Hinkley for some famous Toby's doughnuts. Farther north, Tofte is the city where we got off the beaten path, picked up our permit from the ranger station, and headed the 25 miles to Sawbill Outfitters, where we would eat lunch, rent canoes, and shove off.

We had a brief lesson on how to portage the canoes from one lake to the next. Here are the kids putting their newfound knowledge to good use. We hauled the canoes and all our gear down to the water's edge.

After another brief lesson on how not to tip the canoe and send all your gear and food and clothing into the drink, we were off to conquer new worlds and seek new adventures.

Excitement and anticipation were high, particularly in the four youngest members of the party. Little did they know - DUN DUN DUN - what was waiting down the trail.

Sorry, I'm Too Attached

2008-08-05T13:14:00.001-07:00

So it's come to this. Guess I'll just stick to regular.

Busy Bee

2008-07-22T18:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, almost a month since the last post and I've been busier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Here's a quick update. The toe was broken, we stopped in Wichita on the way to Minnesota at a doc we used to go to there. He said just tape it, elevate and ice it and get some Nike Shox, which I was going to do anyway because they are what I wear for our walks and mine were worn out. I wore them to my niece's birthday party with a sundress, and then with my little black dress to Curtis' future parents-in-law 20th anniversary vow renewal ceremony, which I photographed. Here are my adorable children cutting up before the nuptials.

The next day was my son's 23rd birthday. Here is a picture of him and his fiancee and sis with their ASL teacher from Eden Prairie, a most entertaining and intelligent individual.

When we got home, Jess picked up this little number that she had acquired right before the trip. She has been a challenge to house train.

The biggest reason for not blogging is that we (as a home-based company) have had a large job, requiring many hours. We worked through the fourth of July, our silver wedding anniversary, and I worked several hours yesterday for my birthday. Kind of a drag except I invoiced the client today and realized it's all good.

Other than that, Jess went to a Cubs/Cardinals game over the fourth and got this amazing pic.

We also moved Jess into her apartment in Stillwater for the upcoming semester, got the patio finished and planted some tomatoes. Oh, and we got to see one of Jessica's friends star as Lt. Joe Cable in "South Pacific" at our local community theatre. He is majoring in musical theatre at Ball state and he is amazing.

Those are the tomatoes on the right, they are a little dry from the heat. The tree on the left has died. I am planning to put flowers in the planter by the window and some big pots with ferns on the patio. Maybe a small water feature. In my spare time.

Last, but certainly not least, last Sunday we went to Oklahoma City to celebrate hubby's Professional Engineering License certificate ceremony. He studied very hard (and we had a very questionable hotel stay the night before his first test) and we are really proud of him.

So that is what we have been doing while I have not been posting on the blog. Tonight, I am getting ready to go back to Minnesota. Hubby and I and six others are going to go to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area on a canoeing/camping expedition. I am being very protective of my toe. And I will be sure to post when we get back next week.

Oh! I almost forgot my most amazing feat of all. I sucessfully separated Siamese squash. After which I sauteed them in olive oil . . . and we ate them. Is that wrong?

P.S. In a future post, I would like to highlight this amazing new product.

Whatever

2008-06-24T19:43:00.001-07:00

We are leaving for Minnesota tomorrow. I'm going to photograph a vow renewal ceremony and we are going to celebrate our son's birthday. I haven't posted in awhile, so I thought I would post this.

I was doing laundry, along with all the other things you do when you are gone for a week, and I stubbed my toe. I've stubbed my toes a lot, because they tend to be large, but this one made an odd noise and it looked like this.

This is what the other foot looks like, which bears a similar resemblance to the way the first one looked.

My poor feet are weird enough looking, they don't need this crap! Although I must say, my toenails are pretty.

Daddio

2008-06-14T14:11:00.000-07:00

In June, 1985, my husband became a father. He liked being a dad and, even though he had no experience, he was actually quite good at it. And Curtis loved hanging out with his dad.

In 1988, hubby got to find out what it was like being a daddy to a little girl. He liked that, too.

He worked hard to provide for his family, and I felt blessed that I was able to be a stay-at-home mom. We did the usual family things, picnics, vacations, school functions, dance and karate, and the kids managed to grow up without too much trauma. I think. Now that they are grown, I'm happy to see how their relationships with their father have evolved. They love and respect him, and they truly like to spend time with him.

Hubby taught our son to fly an airplane. This was the day Curtis soloed. It's hard to say which one of them is more proud!

So today, I would like to say Happy Father's Day to a dad who is always up for a good game of golf, Mario Kart or Guitar Hero.

He's a guy who will go with you for a motorcycle ride, take a welding class with you, and teach you how to cut down a tree.

To all you great dads out there, Happy Father's Day!

Area 52

2008-06-09T12:55:00.000-07:00

We have a small 'area' in front of our house which has been problematic. When we moved in, four years ago, there were some small trees and large bushes and a few flowers. I think the previous owner hired someone to keep weeds out, but to us it was just kind of messy looking. Jessica and I spent a very hot couple of days digging almost everything out and starting over. We got a nice bench, a load of wood chips, and some small trees and bushes. Which we purchased from Roger the Shrubber. It looked much nicer.

Slowly but surely, all but one of our plants died, the wood chips blew around, and we couldn't keep the weeds out. Neither hubby nor I are into the whole gardening scene. We want our yard to look nice, we just don't want to have to spend a lot of time doing it. So when we were out one day looking at open houses, which we do for sport on occasion, I saw something interesting at one of them. Other than the fact that it was an 'area,' it bore little resemblance to ours.

Ours

Theirs

I decided that was what we should do with our problem area. We researched putting down the plastic with the river rock on top, waffled back and forth, would it really keep the weeds out? How would we keep crap like leaves and such out of the rocks? It might end up looking just as cruddy blah, blah, blah.

We have a friend who has a multi-faceted business, one facet being all things concrete. What we decided to do is a kind of stained or stamped concrete, thereby putting the whole weed question to bed. He brought some guys about a week ago to dig everything out in preparation for the concrete. Here he is with hubby. They like hard work. They can sit in the shade and watch it all day long.

They have to go to the city to get some materials before they pour the concrete. In light of our recent weather, however, we have since changed our minds about the area. We've decided to keep it a swimming pool.

What a Man

2008-05-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

When Jess and I were cruising, one of our stops was George Town, Grand Cayman Island. We didn't book a shore excursion, we just got off the ship to go shopping. We were on our way to the tourist traps when we saw a large sign with the following story.

There was this dude who was born of 'royal' African parentage and kidnapped by French slavers, who named him Richard Le Noir (noir,of course, meaning black). Apparently, he was quite rambunctious and made repeated attempts to escape. The French decided he wasn't worth the trouble, so they tossed him overboard near a Caribbean Island which may have been Grand Cayman.

Miraculously, he reached land, and went to work in a sugar cane field. He also learned to turn sugar cane into some of the Caribbean's finest rum. In addition, he learned to cultivate tobacco plants and to hand craft the richest cigars in the area. Ah, rum and cigars.

In the early 1700s, his Caymanian master rewarded Richard's hard work by setting him free. Richard, a skilled seaman, earned the rank of captain of a 3-masted square rigger named "Caymanus," which had 20 cannons and 200 crewmen.

Richard Le Noir was a dashing and handsome man, who apparently dressed like a pimp, in a bright purple velvet coat and a red silk sash. He was a big hit with the ladies, reportedly because of certain physical attributes. After a successful career, he retired to make rum and cigars. Oh, yeah, he ditched his French name when he got his freedom, so for the rest of his life, he was known as . . . .

And after reading that story, there was only one thing to do. Go to Margaritaville.

Stormy Weather Redux

2008-05-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

Geez, you get end of the school year stuff, wedding stuff, hubby's birthday, Mother's Day, upcoming birthdays and Father's Day, spring stuff, and the next thing you know, you haven't done a blog post for a month. Whatever.

When we lived in Minnesota, I discovered that there are times that you spend the entire day just dealing with the weather. You get up, it's snowing, you have to either shovel or plow or both. The kids have to bundle up, schlep through it, you have to take extra drive time. If you are running errands, every time you come back to the car, you have to scrape off more snow and ice, everything takes longer. The kids come home from school, take off the boots, snowpants, coats, hats, gloves, toss them on the floor (we didn't have a mud room, there was nowhere else to put it). Then you have soggy clothes and a wet floor. They have a snack, put the clothes back on, go out to play while you clean up the floor. They come back in and everything is on the floor again. You gather it up, put it in the dryer, clean up the floor again.

I've also discovered that there are times in Oklahoma that you spend the entire day just dealing with the weather. Not hands-on like the snow, but paying attention. To where the 'severe weather' is, where it's headed, how long it's going to last, and where you're going to go if it's headed your way, having to check and shut off the weather radio fifty times. You learn what a meteorologist means when he says things like: rain wrapped (you're screwed, you can't see it), hook echo (you could be screwed if it's coming towards you), mezocyclone (well, that's just not good), wall cloud (ditto).

A couple of days ago, hubby and I were out garage sailing (yeah, spelled wrong, I thought it was punny) west of town. We stopped at a shop called Antiques and Things. The proprietors were out back looking at the increasingly bad weather and saying that there was rotation, always a bad thing. So we headed back into town (the opposite direction)and stopped at the grocery store before we went home. While we were checking out, the sirens went off. We have discussed where to go in this event, ever since we moved to this house. We used to have a hidey-hole, aka, storm shelter, but now we have a room in the middle of the house with no windows. Just a washer, dryer, and a kitty litter box.

So, the worst of it went around us to the east or the west, but one came close. This is what I got standing in my back yard.

And here we have what they call 'the lowering.'

The amazing thing was that the clouds were all rotating. Not in a frenzied, tornado-like way, just very slowly, but quite clearly. And while you don't want these things hitting yours, or anyone else's, homes, there is something about them that is absolutely awe inspiring.

Having said that, it looks like we are in for a pretty bad tornado season, so please, keep us in your prayers. And maybe I'll get a few better photo ops.

Wild Hogs

2008-04-28T21:20:00.000-07:00

I live with a motorcycle gang.

That's my daughter and one of her BFFs, Jenn.

That's the two of them and hubby, ready for a road trip.

And there they are, riding off into the sunset. Easy Riders. Well, two of them have no clue what that even means. It's all good.

Home for Christmas

2008-04-16T16:15:00.000-07:00

Trevin told me he was bored and that it's time to get off my butt and write a blog post. Okay, he was not that rude about it, but I get the point. I still have a couple of stories from the cruise, but I had one other thing that I wanted to get on here, because it's something that is very near and dear to my heart.

I have been on the Board of Directors of Youth and Family Services for several years. Our agency provides counseling for children and families, parenting classes, anger management, to name a few. We also provide a shelter for children who literally have nowhere else to go. Our shelter is about 35 years old, so you can imagine it's not in the best shape. Several years ago, just before the holidays, the children were playing games in the living room, and the Christmas tree suddenly fell through the floor. Several areas of the kitchen are unusable because they violate one code or another.

We spent two years on a capital campaign, during which we raised 1.3 million dollars. Our ground breaking ceremony was way last fall, and then nothing happened for months. Finally, construction started, and we saw progress being made. The past few weeks have seen a new roof, brick exterior, and carpet, flooring and tile samples. Yesterday, after our Board meeting, several of us donned hard hats and toured the construction site.

It was so exciting to see our dream taking shape, to imagine a beautiful place that will shelter children and heal families. And the best part is that it will be done before Christmas. Right up there, in front of that window, we are going to put a Christmas tree. There will be another one in the living room, which will have a concrete floor, covered with carpeting, and will be surrounded by gifts and safe, warm children.

In Memory

2008-04-02T18:55:00.000-07:00

On Easter, Enid lost one of its own sons in Baghdad, when his vehicle was hit by a roadside bomb. The effect on our community has been profound. Sgt. Chris Hake's body arrived in Enid on Monday, met by his family, an honor guard from Ft. Sill, and an entire town whose citizens lined the streets from the airport to the funeral home.

His funeral was held this afternoon at the private school he attended. He will be buried Tuesday at Arlington National Cemetary. We, his fellow Oklahomans, want his parents, siblings, and his wife, to know how deeply we appreciate his sacrifice. We want baby Gage to one day understand how much that means to all of us. So you can imagine our dismay when we learned that a certain Kansas 'church' planned a protest. These are the people who like to show up at the funerals of fallen soldiers spewing their vile, repugnant ideas like so much sewage.

I drove with my daughter and her friend to the site of the protest. I drove past parking lots filled with people carrying flags. Past a nursing home with twenty-five to thirty residents, some in robes and slippers, many in wheelchairs, curbside, with American flags. And, past a hearse, followed by 100+ Patriot Guard Riders. Citizens had organized a peaceful counter protest, actually, a demonstration of love and respect. We held signs, we sang patriotic songs and hymns.

Five people showed up from Kansas. They were apparently across the street from us, behind the state troopers. They were outnumbered 25 to 1. They stayed until we sang "Oklahoma" at the top of our lungs. Then, they got in their vehicle and left. We stayed.

Yes, we have the right to free speech. We have the right to peaceful protest. But some things are just plain wrong. Disrespecting, dishonoring, degrading and defiling the memory of a fallen hero, who died so that you have the right to stand in the path of his funeral procession and cause more grief to a family who has already had more than they can bear.

Not in our town.

Blowing in the Wind

2008-03-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

When I booked the cruise, I forgot that you have to choose your dinner seating for the main dining room. There are so many people on the ship that they have to split them up into main seating and second seating (and this is three levels of dining room, to boot). By the time I remembered you have to do that, main seating was filled, so we were relegated to second seating, which means supper isn't until eight o'clock in the evening. Unless you specifically request your own table, you are seated with six or eight other people at a larger table. On our family cruise, we had some rather odd table mates; on another that I took with my sister, we were seated with a young married couple and a retired couple, he from the FBI, so the table talk was lively and interesting.

We were a little concerned about who we might end up supping with, as you can imagine. They turned out to be two ladies, about my age, friends who had their children, a nephew and a son's girlfriend, all from the Oklahoma City area. We got along famously the entire week. Even if they had been mutant face stuffers from hell, we still would have muddled through.

It was very windy out of Galveston, and the ship was doing some weird kind of roll-y things. Not nausea making so much, just, as one of our dinner mates pointed out, "It's really annoying." Nothing I had encountered on previous cruises.

I have been pushing my workouts, trying to lose some weight and get in shape for our backpacking/canoe trip to the Boundary Waters canoe area in July (more about that in upcoming months). I was determined not to be one of those people who gain 7-10 pounds during their cruise vacation. Yes, there is a lot of food, but that also means that at least half of it is healthy food. Thank God I like healthy food.

The ship has a large fitness center, and also offers yoga classes, pilates, stretching, and so forth. My favorite way to exercise on the ship, however, is just to walk around the deck. My daily walks are four miles, so that was my goal. That and taking the stairs up and down the 12 decks, rather than using the elevator. Getting lost repeatedly while trying to find our cabin probably added many miles, in addition.

So, on the deck, five laps is one mile. Cool, twenty laps around the deck. I started out. Nice, wind behind me, sunny, this is . . . wait, what just happened? I turned the corner and . . . I can't stand up! After a few moments to adjust, I carried on, although I have to say, it wasn't easy. I managed to make it around the end of the ship, so that the wind was at my back again, but each time I turned at the other end, I was face into it. I had seen on the ship news on the television in our cabin that the wind was blowing 27.9 knots. I didn't know what that meant. But I live in Oklahoma, how bad can a few knots be? But then, I remembered that the ship was going 26.9 knots straight into the 27.9 knot wind. I'm neither nautically nor mathematically inclined, but it felt like about 50-60 mph winds that I was walking into head on. It was tough, but I did it.

Of course, even in near gale force winds, you can't bitch and moan too much when you are walking on the deck of a ship looking at the most amazingly beautiful blue water all around you. Made even more stunning by the accents of the whitecaps. Whitecaps. You know, because of the stupid wind.

Embarking

2008-03-26T17:40:00.000-07:00

When we (finally) arrived in Galveston and checked into our hotel, Jess was antsy to get down to the beach, which was only a block away. It's been six years since she's seen the ocean, and she was eager to get her feet wet.

A few hours later, the crazy "call me" boys from Texas stopped by the hotel room to say hello. They turned out to be three college kids from Dallas, who were just wrapping up their spring break. Very nice, polite and respectable young men.

The next morning, we headed for the pier, and Jess watched the luggage while I went to long term parking for the van, which cost about half what it cost to book the cruise. Okay, that's an exaggeration. Of course, they had to take a picture of us as we 'embarked' on our journey.

I feel ridiculously short. Anyway, we headed straight for the buffet, because we were ravenous, and our cabin wasn't ready yet. First face stuffing of the cruise. After we got into our room and got settled, we headed to the deck for a little pink drink with an umbrella and watched as we sailed away. We were really looking forward to this being our home for the next seven days.

Tomorrow: uh, define 'gale force' for me again.

Whaaaaat?

2008-03-25T16:22:00.000-07:00

So I was on the computer this morning, checking e-mails and news stories, and I saw the following: "Miley Cyrus Seen Stuffing Her Face." I'm thinking, what fresh hell is this? I clicked on it and got the picture. Now, I just spent seven days on a cruise ship, and I think I know what stuffing your face looks like. And this ain't it. When you get to Popeater, go to Features on the left side, and click on Photo of the Day.

This is a teenage girl politely eating a french fry. I'm just saying.

Cruise posts begin tomorrow . . .

Road Trip

2008-03-15T21:55:00.000-07:00

Jess and I got up five-thirty to sixish this morning, picked up some lattes, and headed for Galveston. It was pretty much an ordinary road trip, changing radio stations when the static got too bad, okay traffic except for Dallas. Stopped for lunch a little late (because I wanted to get through Dallas) so we were starving and stuffed ourselves.

About two and a half hours north of Houston, we were in pretty heavy traffic, admiring a cute little irridescent purple bug, when Jess said, "Oh my gosh, look!" A big, black pickup truck had just passed us. Inside were three young cowboys, who were holding up a sign that said "Call me" with a phone number. We couldn't read it, so I sped up a little until we were side by side and Jessica put the number in her phone. Then she dialed it and 'Matt' answered. They introduced themselves, had a nice little conversation. She told him we were going to Galveston to go on a cruise, he told her they were going to a wedding in Houston and then on to Galveston later tonight. I was cracking up the whole time.

After she got off the phone, she texted her dad and told him about the phone number in the window. He texted back: "Did you moon them? It's spring break, after all." (I don't know what HE used to do, but I never mooned anyone on spring break.) She texted back: "Moon them? Hell no, I called them." Except when she sent it, it didn't go to her dad, it went to Matt, which she quickly realized. "Oh, NO!" By this time I am laughing so hard tears are running down my face. I think maybe we'd been in the car a little too long.

Anyway, Matt and his peeps are en route to Galveston and are going to stop by the hotel and say howdy. I guess you can never have too many crazy friends.

Sailing Away

2008-03-14T21:20:00.000-07:00

So, tomorrow morning, Jess and I are heading south to Galveston for an overnight stay before boarding a cruise ship Sunday morning. We are going to Grand Cayman, Montego Bay and Cozumel. Needless to say, we are pretty excited. I'd be more excited if I looked better in my bathing suit, but oh well.

I am hoping to get onto the computer while asea, but Royal Caribbean's version of nominal internet fee may quite well be vastly different than mine. So I may post once or twice this week, or I may wait until we get back, on Easter Sunday.

Having said that, here is the big news. Our son, Curtis, and the lovely Christina, are engaged. So now we have a future daughter-in-law/fiancee, who already feels like our daughter. We couldn't be happier!

All Tied Up

2008-03-07T14:15:00.000-08:00

While writing my last post, I had one eye on the television, watching Rick Mitchell, who was telling me that a tornado was pretty much headed straight towards us. Fortunately, it met up with a cold front, which effectively murdered it before it arrived at our doorstep. I was completely distracted from the looming tornado, however, by Rick's necktie. It was striped, sort of Easter colors, very pretty, very long.

Now, I have had a theory about neckties for quite some time, so I Googled the history of them. They've been around a long time, since the early 1600s. Here are some necktie facts I found interesting.

1. The Windsor knot was named for the Duke of Windsor, although he didn't invent it or use it. He liked big, fat knots, but the way he got them was to use thicker fabric. My guess is that he never figured out how to tie a Windsor knot.

2. A necktie can be seen as a sign of membership, i.e. belonging to a certain school, or the military. Or the I Wish I Could Breathe Club.

3. In many hospitals, ties are thought to aid and abet the spread of disease, apparently since they are cleaned less than other articles of clothing. Doctors routinely lean across patients and their ties may brush them, pick up some nasty thing, and carry it to the next unsuspecting and trusting fool. I'm glad my doctor is a woman.

4. People in Iran do not wear ties because they believe them to be a decadent symbol of Western oppression. Really? That makes about as much sense as some of the other things they believe.

Okay, my theory is that they are part of the male mating ritual, designed to draw attention to certain parts of the anatomy. Think about it. They aren't comfortable, but they continue to be an important accessory in the average man's wardrobe. Because basically, they are one giant arrow pointing to . . . well, you get the picture. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

Whose Side Are You On?

2008-03-02T17:00:00.000-08:00

About half a dozen people have pointed out that I have been neglecting the blog. So, while I am keeping an eye on the television, waiting to see whether a tornado is going to materialize, I will remedy the situation.

The title of this post does not refer to the upcoming election. It has to do with a much deeper and more serious question. Which side of the bed is yours, and, is it necessary to even have a side?

Hubby doesn't think people need to have a side that they always sleep on. A chiropractor that we had in Wichita vindicated him by telling us that he made his wife switch sides every three months. To which I replied that his wife is nicer than I am. I also had a conversation with my current chiropractor, whose wife isn't a fan of sides. He, however, is of the opinion that not having a side is sheer insanity. Like hubby, his wife would have a difficult time prying his fingers from the sheets on HIS SIDE of the bed.

Having said that, we have mitigating circumstances. Hubby has something of a snoring problem some nights. What bothers me about it is that he stops breathing and I know that isn't good for him. What I used to do is to gently roll him over onto his side and he would stop. Apparently, I wasn't rolling as gently as I thought, or else he just plain didn't like it. Because one night, after I did it, a very digruntled voice pierced the darkness. And it said, "I could be in my coffin and you'd be rolling me onto my side!" Gee, Honey, why don't you say what you really mean?

So, the next time he was holding his breath, I got out of bed, went over to his side and got in. Which caused him to turn on his side so he could snuggle. Which turned out to be a better solution. I can never stay on his side of the bed for long. We have adjustable mattresses, and, after while on his, my ribs start to hurt and I have to go back to the sane side of the bed where the firmness of the mattress is adjusted correctly.

So, we seem to have made peace with our sides of the bed and what to do with a snoring spouse. Which is good, because our last resort is a bedroom like Lucy and Ricky had. Nobody wants that.

What Planet Are We On?

2008-02-13T12:15:00.000-08:00

Since our trip to Arizona was over a month ago, I guess I will tell the story of the last leg and then move on to other issues, like the commercialization of Valentine's Day or something.

After the scary guy on Highway 54, our drive was uneventful, and we cruised into Tucumcari just after dark. Tucumcari is a fairly small town on I-40/Route 66. We found a hotel just off the freeway, checked in, and went to find some supper.

We drove down a long street that used to be Route 66 and still has lots of kitschy stuff, like a Mexican restaurant with a huge neon sombrero, pink flamingos, etc. We stopped at a sixties style eatery called Dean's Diner. Looked homey and like it would have good family style food. We walked in and something weird happened. There were probably 15 people at various tables and booths. Men of all ages, mostly dressed in coveralls, and, I must say, eating dinner with their hats on, stopped talking and stared at us. Stared as if we had just stumbled into a place where we had no business being. I felt like I was in "Rosemary's Baby." Or "Deliverance."

We stood there for a few minutes, not knowing if we should seat ourselves or wait for the waitress. After awhile, we decided to sit, and found a booth. All talking had stopped when we came in and, after we sat down, it resumed slowly. We sat for maybe ten minutes, no one greeted us, brought us menus, or acknowledged our presence in any way. Finally, I took a note pad out of my purse, wrote "maybe they ignore people who aren't from here until they go away," and passed it to hubby, who nodded. We decided to leave. On our way out, the waitress, who had been pouring coffee, turned around and almost crashed into me. She laughed a little and said, "Oh, I almost got you!" Then she went on her merry way to pour coffee for someone else. Didn't say, "Oh, I'll be right over," or "I'll get you a menu." Clearly, nobody was sorry to see us go.

The next morning, we got gas, and then I had to take pictures of Dean's because obviously, it was going on the blog. Now, don't you think, if someone comes into your eating establishment and just stands there snapping pictures, you would sort of freak out? Especially if you were the pod people from the previous night. But no, Dean's was a totally different place in the light of day. I stepped in and started taking photos. My goal was to snap a few and then run away before they mobbed me.

Instead, I heard what sounded like nice, sane folks in the background, and they seemed to think it was pretty cool that I was in there with my camera. I heard one guy say to the waitress (not the one who had almost scalded me to death with hot coffee), "Hey, Marge, show her the mural in the back, that's what she oughta be taking pictures of!" So Marge obliged, led me to the back where, indeed, there was a cool mural. She asked if I wanted her to "put the spotlight on it," and I said no thanks. Because I didn't trust them and still wanted to get out of there. Part of me thought maybe they had taken me to the back so that they could make me disappear forever. So I took the picture and left. We drove home, wondering all the way what the hell was up in Tucumcari. We will probably never know.

The Vows Say Nothing About the Price of Tuna

2008-02-06T17:15:00.000-08:00

Overheard at the grocery store, a conversation between a couple that I suspect have been married for at least sixty years:

He: "Here it is, it's 68 cents," pointing to a can of tuna.

She: "It's supposed to be 79 cents!"

He: "But it's 68 cents, that's better."

She: "I'm not buying it here. It's supposed to be 79 cents. I'll buy it at United."

He: "But if you buy it here, you'll save 11 cents."

She: Quite indignant. "I would NOT!"

He: "Yes, you would."

She: "It's FIFTY-NINE CENTS!"

He: Quite confused. "Fifty-nine? You said seventy-nine."

She: "I did NOT!" Starts on down the aisle pushing the cart. He's following and mumbling.

"I don't know why you don't just buy it here . . . "

I am cracking up. And wondering how long before hubby and I will have conversations like that in the grocery store. Oh, wait . . .

The End . . . Almost

2008-02-03T21:50:00.000-08:00

We spent the night in Las Cruces and the next day drove around to see how much things were different. Which was a lot. From there, we drove over the Organ Mountains, named because they supposedly look like organ pipes. I used to rock climb up there. What an idiot. Back then, I probably would have taken that Bright Angel Trail at the Grand Canyon. Ah, youth.

Then we went through White Sands and Alamogordo, then up 54 back to I-40 into Oklahoma where we could go north to home. US 54 is an interesting road between Alamogordo and Santa Rosa. Mainly because there is NOTHING there. Oh, there are a couple of 'towns,' but you can drive there in the dark and see no lights for hours. There was some construction on one part of the road, so we had to stop until the 'guide car' came for us. In the meantime, on a not that cold day, we encountered this.

He would look up the road and then turn around and stare at us. Okay, he was probably looking down the road, but I swear it looked liked he was staring at us. I'm not prone to paranoia, but after awhile, like five minutes of this, I turned to hubby and said, "I feel like I'm in a horror movie." After which, he very slowly turned to me, so as not to annoy the whatever, and said, "It's pretty creepy." Well, of course, I had to take a picture for the blog, but we were right in front of him and I knew he could see us taking a picture. There was nothing else to be taking a picture of, so he had to know it was of him. So I was ascared. But it's the blog, so I did it anyway.

We finally got through without carnage and drove until dark. Which was Tucumcari. What a nightmare. DUN, DUN, DUN!

The Big House

2008-01-30T17:30:00.000-08:00

My second morning at the Grand Canyon, I woke up to rain and abandoned all hope of a sunrise photo. I turned on the t.v. to hear that it was snowing in Flagstaff, which was on my route south, so I hightailed it out of there, hoping to get through it before it got too deep.

Sure enough, a few miles west of Flagstaff, I drove into a blizzard. Fortunately, I was only in it for about 45 minutes before it turned back into rain. Lots and lots of rain. By the time I got to Casa Grande, it was clear and warmer. I pulled into the hotel and there were hubby and his friend smacking balls on the driving range. AND, a bunch of people over by the practice putting green getting ready for a wedding! It was pretty cool, actually. I went back up to our room and watched it from the balcony. When the ceremony was over, the bride and groom started back down the aisle to the traditional music. Suddenly, it fizzled out, made the scratched record noise, and everyone went awwww. But then, on came James Brown's "I Feel Good," and the couple danced the rest of the way down. Then I watched them take wedding photos, which I have done, but not outside in the wind. Quite educational.

The next day, I took the camera and went to explore Casa Grande and the nearby monument. The monument preserves the ruins of the Hohokam farming community, especially the Great House.

After hanging out there for awhile, I went back to Casa Grande and snapped pictures of things that amuse me. As you can see, I'm easily amused. By such things as . . .
orange trees in January.

Or this quaint little eatery. I figured they probably had good food, but I knew I was going to be driving the next day, on a road with few places to stop, so I passed.

We headed for home the next morning, via southern New Mexico, which is where I grew up and went to college. It was fun to visit the old haunts. Speaking of haunting, we had a couple of fairly creepy experiences there . . . .

Warning

2008-01-26T21:00:00.000-08:00

Death by Guitar Hero.

Please come back for more Arizona adventures. They get better/weirder.

The Big C

2008-01-23T18:45:00.000-08:00

I was hoping to get a sunrise and a sunset photo at the Grand Canyon. But when I got up my first morning there, the weather was being uncooperative. It was rain snowing, which sounds like sleet, but it really wasn't. I drove in and pulled into the first lookout I came to. Now, I've been to the Canyon before, about 21 years ago. But when I got out of the van and walked to the edge and looked out, it was like I was seeing it for the first time. Even without the sun, it was breathtaking.

I walked from one lookout to the next, snapping hundreds of pictures, like a total tourist. I finally made it to the Grand Canyon Village, which was where the Bright Angel Trail started. I had researched some trails online, and I knew that this was a four mile hike. I was really looking forward to it. But when I arrived at the trail head, I realized that this was a rim trail. Meaning, you're not on a paved trail with railings. Not at all. What it means is this. You are on a narrow dirt trail that has patches of the recent snow and ice.

Those black dots to the right just below center are people hiking. That thing to the left is a 3000 foot drop. About this time, my healthy fear of plunging to my death kicked in and my head said loudly and clearly to me, "Oh, HELL no!" So I took my fogie self back on up to the paved trail and took off. I saw a show on the Travel Channel about the Grand Canyon and how they spend five to ten years training the mules who take people down that trail. I figured, since I haven't been trained for five to ten years, it's probably better that I stay off of it.

To be continued . . .

Arizona Adventure Continued

2008-01-20T18:00:00.000-08:00

After I left the hotel at Casa Grande, my camera and I went north, in search of photo ops. And we found plenty! First stop, Sedona. The Native Americans believe that there is a vortex of electromagnetic energy in Sedona that is beneficial to health and spirit. I didn't feel a vortex or anything, but I loved the scenery.

We continued north in Oak Creek Canyon to Slide Rock State Park. Seriously cool place. It's like a natural water park. The rocks are so smooth you can just slide them on down the creek, thus the name, duh. It must be awesome in the summer when it's hot out and you can actually get in the water without perishing from hypothermia. But it was still amazing in January with snow on the ground. I climbed over a lot of big rocks, balancing the camera in one hand, and the next morning I felt some muscles I'd forgotten I had. But it was worth it.

After Slide Rock, I got onto a winding mountain road. I had the GPS on 'view map,' and the road ahead looked like a knot. I was a little freaked out, and then I saw a bridge. I have a bridge phobia, which my husband has never understood. After recent local and national bridge collapse incidents, he feels my fears may have been somewhat vindicated. I crossed the bridge and pulled into the lookout area. It was a nice view, a long ways down, but they had our backs.

A little farther down the road was another lookout where Native Americans were vending their wares. Could have easily spent a couple hundred there, but I managed to get away with only a necklace for our daughter and another for our girlfriend-in-law. Oh, and I encountered yet another interesting warning.

The GPS lady got me lost in Flagstaff, and, when I turned around and went the way I thought was right, she got pissy and refused to speak to me. Wouldn't give me a map, my speed, just stuck a big question mark in the middle of the screen. I'm sure the question was, "Why is this idiot not listening to me?" You'd think an attraction as visited as the Grand Canyon would have better roads into it. But no. I did manage to get there before dark and get checked into my hotel. The next morning, the GPS lady was speaking to me again, so we headed for the Canyon . . .

Twilight Zone

2008-01-15T11:00:00.000-08:00

We interrupt Alice's Adventures in Arizona for the following latebreaking news item. I read Jeff's post on Saturday about Microsoft error boxes popping up at inopportune moments. Yesterday, I was showing it to my daughter, when something eerie happened.

At first, I thought Jeff had rigged something up to freak people out (because he's quite clever and amusing), but Jessica confirmed that it was the real deal.

I got nothin'.

Movin' on Down the Road

2008-01-13T21:45:00.000-08:00

From brunch at McDonald's in Shamrock, we kept west on I-40, all the way into Albuquerque. My mom and siblings live there, with assorted nieces and nephews. Spent the night with mom and ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant, with the whole clan.

Next morning, we were on the road bright and early, still on I-40. Here is another gem from Route 66.

Nice to know. We drove west into Arizona, to the Painted Desert. We were wanting to get to Casa Grande late afternoon, so all we did at the Painted Desert was eat lunch at the park cafe, which was pretty neat. I had the chili, and there was a recipe for it and a recipe for Indian fry bread.

From there, we went through Flagstaff, a lot of wind-y roads, through Phoenix and into Casa Grande.

We were staying at Francisco Grande, which is a golf resort. It dates back to 1959 when the owner of the San Francisco Giants baseball team developed the property as a training camp. The pool is shaped like a baseball bat and the hot tub is the baseball. The main buildings are the same, although, in the sixties, it had one of those motor inn signs out front and another about the San Francisco Giants. This is what it looks like today.

The Tower is pretty much the same, although rennovations were done a few years ago. We were up on the sixth floor, and I walked the stairs for some exercise. That last picture was taken the morning after we arrived. We went into town for breakfast. Hubby was waiting for the other golfers to arrive, and I went north. Adventure continues . . .

Gettin' Our Kicks

2008-01-09T22:10:00.000-08:00

We left for a vacation on New Year's Day. Which means multiple blog posts over the next week. About driving, hotels, eating establishments, and lots of photos. This is a short one, because I drove all day and I'm ready to hit the sack. We started out going south to I-40, which used to be Route 66, one of my favorite places. We stopped in Shamrock, Texas, because our daughter was visiting her boyfriend there, who was doing pipeline work just north. It was, of course, January 1st, so pretty much the only place open to eat was McDonald's. But on the way to brunchfest, we encountered something pretty cool.

Apparently, this particular building was featured in the Disney movie "Cars." I haven't seen the movie, so I wouldn't know. But here it is, in all its glory. Seems it houses the offices of the Chamber of Commerce and a gift shop. I think it's neat that it's still around.

That is the first installment of the 2008 vacation. Oh, but just wait.

Like a Bowl Full of Jelly

2007-12-29T14:30:00.000-08:00

This is what happens at my house on Christmas.I prepare an obscene amount of food so that I don't have to cook for, like, a week. And this doesn't even include the pies. Or the Godiva chocolates and pumpkin bread that we received as gifts. Or the other box of chocolates or the baklava Jess and I made.

So then what happens is I have a dream that I sit down at a stool at a counter in some store and the clerk comes over and yells at me to get off of it because I'm so large he thinks I'm going to break it. And then I wake up from the dream and get out of bed only to hop on the scale and see that I have gained four pounds. Yeah, that was fun.

Jingle Bells

2007-12-18T11:00:00.000-08:00

I've been shopping,
I've been wrapping,
I've been mailing Christmas cards.

I've been writing Christmas letters,
I've been working very hard.

Blaring carols in the van,
Christmas spirit in a can.

I've been baking cookies,
making menus, perusing recipes.

Cleaning house and decorating,
spreading Yuletide glee.

Wait! Hold the phone. This guy has the right idea. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.

Random Ramblings

2007-12-11T17:10:00.000-08:00

We went to Minnesota for a few days and, ever since we came home, I have been busy with this and busy with that and have once again neglected le blog. Not having any one thing in mind to write about, I will update on some previous posts.

We were in Minnesota for the 51st Thanksgiving of the Ks and the Hs. There were a record number of people, some forty or so. Some new faces, and a niece and nephew that we don't get to see as often as we would like. It was fun to get to know them and see what neat people they are growing into. One of our boys was absent and greatly missed. He is a United States Marine serving in Iraq. When you are saying your prayers, please include one for Jonathan.

Here is an interesting Thanksgiving guest. Several of them showed up and hung around for awhile. I guess they figured they were safe, since our birds were already cooked. And speaking of turkeys, when we came home, we discovered that the city fathers had changed the sign down the road. Now it looks like this.

As a woman, I think I am offended by this. Are they implying that the tom turkey is nicer to look at than the previous hen turkey, as you zip by the sign? And what I really want to know is why they are spending my tax dollars on a new sign with a designer turkey silhouette when we have local bridges and library roofs caving in.

Moving on to our recent hotel experience whereupon we caused much gnashing of teeth for the hotel clerk and manager because we had impudently made online reservations. They comped us the extra cost and let us stay in The Executive Suite. Guess what charge showed up twice on our bank statement. The cost of the hotel room. We were not surprised. We were not amused.

Last, but by no means least, Bugsy has gone to a better place. One, I'm sure, where he has unlimited access to candy canes. We will miss his beady little eyes.

Bridge Over Troubled Water

2007-11-19T20:30:00.000-08:00

Hubby has been studying for his Professional Engineer's License. Although he's been an engineer for forever, he's consulting now, which means different rules for some of the things he wants to take on. He took his first test a few weeks ago and will take the next one in six months.

Most of what he studies is review, but he ran into a few things that he didn't encounter in college. One was statically determinate trusses, which involves the method of joints and the method of sections. He wanted some hands-on, so he found a book entitled "Designing and Building File-Folder Bridges." And that means building a bridge from the stuff of which file folders are made.

That's the plan and the pieces of manila envelope cut out to fit. The whole thing turned out to look like this.

It weighed two ounces. He then proceeded to place it between two chairs and put eleven pounds of books on it.

Here he is putting the smallest of the books on the top of the bridge. It held up. I'm impressed.

Someone's In The Kitchen

2007-11-09T16:30:00.000-08:00

Every fall I start wanting to cook. A lot. Even when it's not so cold outside yet, I get the itch to make stuff. Maybe it's a need I have to hunker down for the long, cold winter. I want to make stuff that looks like this.

I get sick of all my standard recipes and start going through my cookbooks, old Taste of Home and Hometown Cooking magazines and trying new dishes. I peruse the food network website and watch Paula Deen.

The year my daughter was born, we had a garden that produced copious amounts of tomatoes and zucchinis. We couldn't give them away because all the neighbors had gardens of their own. So it happened that when I was eight and a half months pregnant, huge and it was August in El Paso, I spent a weekend making things with zucchinis and freezing them, and canning tomatoes. I think I have never been that hot in my life.

My favorite thing to make in the fall is jam and jelly. I love the berries, I love the jars, the whole process of making the stuff myself. I know, doesn't take much to amuse some people, huh? My favorite part of the jam is putting the lids on and then waiting to hear when the middles start popping in. If you don't make jelly, you probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about. My daughter thinks I'm a little dotty because I like to hear the lids pop. But one day I was watching Paula Deen make jelly. When the lids started popping, she said, "Isn't that just the sweetest sound?" AHA! I'm not the only kook.

But I have to say, when I hand my daughter a piece of warm home made bread slathered with my jam, nobody's laughin' at Mama.

Orange Power

2007-11-05T16:20:00.000-08:00

Our daughter is a freshman at Oklahoma State University. Two weeks ago, for the football homecoming game, her ASL class was going to sign the National Anthem before the game. We thought that was pretty cool, so we got tickets. We drove down, ate supper, and went to the new Boone Pickens Stadium.

This is a very impressive structure. It can also be intimidating, particularly when you go in on the opposite side from where your seats are and you can't figure out how to get to them. And so it happened that during the National Anthem and the signing, we were in the bowels of the stadium looking quite lost. We never even heard "O say can you see" being played. We eventually made our way to our seats where our daughter was waiting for us.

Now we are not big football fans, so we figured we would probably stay until half-time and then head home. It didn't take long, however, for us to get caught up in the game because a) it was close all the way, and b) these Big 12 Conference people take their football VERY seriously. Hence, it was easy to get caught up in the excitement.

I'm here to tell you - this crowd can make a lot of noise.

Whenever OSU makes a touchdown, the band plays the school song and this guy comes riding out on Bullet.

So, we ended up staying for the whole game, which we won by two points in the last six seconds. It was way cool.

A couple of days ago was another home game and the ASL class was signing again. So we trucked on down for the game, making sure we got there in plenty of time for the National Anthem, AND that we went in on the proper side of the stadium. We were right there with our cameras when they brought out the flag. Then, the announcer started talking about this eagle. The bird came soaring out, crossing the stadium several times during the song. It was really awesome.

But, of course, not as awesome as getting to see this.

We stayed for the whole game again, because it was just as close and exciting as the last one. We lost by one point in the last two seconds. Whatever.

Suite and Sour

2007-10-31T15:00:00.000-07:00

So after the ordeal with checking in, we were given our room key. And not a little credit card like thing. Well, see for yourself. I considered it a good sign that we were not also presented with a paper clip or told that the room couldn't be locked from the outside.

Now when someone says "suite," I picture walking into a small living room like area with a foldout sofa, desk, chair and a television. Maybe a sink, fridge, microwave and coffe pot. Then there is a separate bedroom with a bed, desk, chair, and an armoire with a television. And, of course, a bathroom in there somewhere. What we walked into was a normal sized hotel room with a bed, armoire with television, desk, chair and a small non-foldoutable loveseat. In the corner was a mini fridge with a small microwave atop it. It was okay, but I definitely would not call it an executive suite. It did have some interesting features, however.

Random stuff lying around.

Questionable light fixtures.

And our very own Jiminy Cricket in the bathtub. Not to mention the large stain I spotted on the bedspread while we were sitting on it watching t.v. Hubby thanked me for pointing it out. But I think he was being sarcastic.

One thing that was conspicuous in its absence was . . . a clock. No clock of any kind anywhere. We resorted to hubby's palm pilot and my cell phone for alarms. But the getting up time was crucial, and there is something comforting about waking up and seeing the big red time flashing at you. Consequently, hubby's sleep wasn't as restful as it could have been.

We planned on going to the lobby and having the continental breakfast. Our room was right over the lobby and, while I was dressing, I started smelling burnt coffee. I had seen pictures of a continental breakfast at the front desk, complete with cereal, fruit, juice and coffee. They must have stolen the pictures from another hotel. What we walked into was burnt coffee and a bunch of greasy donuts. Fortunately, there was a small diner across the parking lot and breakfast was saved. I dropped hubby off, went back and hung out until checkout time and took hubby a sandwich for lunch. Then I went to an 850 booth arts and crafts fair, bought Christmas gifts and ate greasy fair food. At least it ended well.

Today is my first year blog anniversary. To all of you who read, and especially to those of you who comment, a great big THANK YOU!

Hotel California

2007-10-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

Jeff is famous for bad hotel experiences. The following does not approach some of his adventures in traveling, but I thought it was blog worthy.

My husband was scheduled to take a test in Edmond, just north of Oklahoma City. He was to be at the testing facility at 7:15 Saturday morning. He booked a hotel online that was literally three minutes from the facility. Friday afternoon, we drove to Edmond, checked out the building where the test would be administered so that he would know where to go next morning, ate supper, and went to the hotel to check in, carrying the printout confirming our reservation.

Girl behind desk, whose accent I could not place: "Can I help you?"
Us: "Yes, we have a reservation."
Girl: "What is the name?"
We told her. "I don't have that name in the computer."
Us: "We made the reservation last Sunday night. We have the reservation number."
Girl: "You have a reservation number?"
Us: "Yes, it's . . ."
Girl: "I don't need a reservation number. Your name isn't here."
Us: "We have a confirmation number."
Girl: "You have a confirmation number?"
Us: "Yes, it's . . ."
Girl: "I don't need a confirmation number. I don't have your name here. How did you make the reservation?"
Us: "Online."
Girl: "What website. We only do hotels and travel." What?

Meanwhile, another woman had wandered in and was listening to the conversation, looking a little doubtful. The phone rang, the check-in girl answered it, clearly frustrated with our stupidity, listened for a minute and informed the caller that she would have to call him back. She wanted us to go away and we wouldn't, so she called the manager. He came out and she explained that our name was not there and handed him our printout. He got onto the computer to check out the situation and the check-in girl asked the doubtful woman what she wanted and she said a room with two beds.

"I have a room with two beds but it's smoking."

Manager, who had a very heavy accent and was kind of hard to understand: "I have a non-smoking room with two beds, but you can't lock it from the outside."
Woman: "But I would be safe from the inside, right?"
Manager: "Yes, but you can't lock it from the outside, so your belongings would not be safe if you went to dinner. You would have to bring them to the office for us to watch. Would you like to see the room?"
Woman: "Yes, please." She took the key and left.
Check-in girl: "The man in 211 can't get into his bathroom. He's locked out of it."
Manager: "Oh, yes that lock is problem. I will go in a minute and show him how to get in." As he says this, he holds up a paper clip that he has straightened out, indicating that this is the magic that will allow Mr. 211 to get into his bathroom.

He had figured out the problem, but the only room he had left was the executive suite. Which was forty dollars more, but he comped us the forty bucks and apologized profusely for the misunderstanding. The interesting thing was, when check-in girl realized manager wasn't going to make us go away, but was actually going to be nice and accomodating, her demeanor changed completely. All of a sudden, she went from "I don't have your name!" to "Oh, I'm so glad you didn't come later or the room would have been gone." Yeah, right.

Since this is already getting quite lengthy, I will save the rest of the story. Tomorrow, DUN, DUN, DUN! The Executive Suite!

These Are The Things I Can Do Without

2007-10-15T15:30:00.000-07:00

I have been away from the blog due to chili. The non-profit of which I am a Board member sponsored a booth at the annual United Way Chili Cookoff last Friday. The theme was "Oklahoma Proud - First 100 Years," because our state is celebrating its centennial this year. The founder of our organization happens to be 101 years old, so we tied that into our theme. Our booth ended up being very labor intensive and turned into a four day all day process. It turned out well, though, and everybody liked our chili. My house smelled like chili for a few days.

While I was chili-ing and not blogging, a couple of products came to my attention that made me go "Hmmm." Hubby handed me a flyer from the newspaper and said, "We'd better stock up on this." He was referring to a product called Anti Monkey Butt Powder.
I did not know that such a condition as monkey butt existed. I was also unaware that it's a common term used by motorcyclists to describe the condition of their posterior after a long bike ride. Thus, the fact that there was a powder for it came as quite a surprise. But it makes sense and is probably a good product. Unlike the next, which I really don't think anyone needs at all.

Now, I like Jones Soda. They have some yummy flavors, and I like the fact that you can submit your photos and they may become Jones Soda labels. Because I am a photographer, and I think it would be awesome to see one of my photos on, say, Fufu Berry soda. However, I think they may be making a major marketing mistake with their proposed new flavor. Apparently, someone decided that football fans wanted to know what their favorite players' sweat tastes like, so they came up with a sweat flavor that has a "stinky football sock" finish. I think it's called Sweet Victory, which would be quite misleading.I was amused by the Harry Potter Bertie Bott's jelly beans with flavors like dirt, earwax and booger. I didn't want to eat them, but they were fun for kids because kids like grossout stuff. But seriously, does anybody want to drink sweat? I'm just saying.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

2007-10-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

After visiting the cow camp on the weekend, we figured we had to go out and watch as they broke camp and continued north. I won't bore you with a lot of chatter. The pictures speak for themselves, starting with this one of a little dude and his dad who lived nearby the camp and came to help out.

Taking the victuals along.

These guys figured half a mile was a good enough walk and they needed a snack.

Bringing up the rear.

So there it is, what Carmen refers to as "the grandaddy of them all." Awesome.

Head 'em up, move 'em out!

2007-09-30T15:55:00.000-07:00

We live smack in the middle of the Chisholm Trail, which was a major route used for cattle drives in the mid- to late 1800's. The route went from southern Texas, across the Red River and north to Abilene, Kansas.

This is our friend, Carmen. She participated in the Cherokee Strip Land Run Centennial cattle drive in 1993. She and others began talking about another cattle drive this year, for Oklahoma's Centennial celebration. But they wanted it to be big. They've spent 14 years planning for this.

For the past three weeks, they have been herding 450 head of cattle from the southern to the northern borders of our state. This weekend, they stayed overnight in our town, and we got to visit the cow camp. Carmen gave us the lowdown on the drive.

The 25 cowboys get up at 4:30, eat breakfast, break camp, and start rounding up the cattle. They ride about 15 hours a day, and the cattle set the pace. They want to keep them all healthy, so if one goes lame or is having trouble, they load it up and send it safely back to its owner. They have been traveling alongside Highway 81, which is well traveled, but Carmen says the cattle are pretty calm and the traffic doesn't seem to bother them. She did say that they went through an area where there were some llamas, and that didn't go over well. The cattle gave them a wide berth, and the horses got skittish. Must be a history of bad blood between the equines and the llama population.

There is another week left of the cattle drive, and Carmen says she doesn't want it to end. She tells us that the people of Oklahoma have been amazing, turning out, offering food and water. She has even met people from places such as Norway and Germany. She didn't have words to describe the experience, but that ear to ear grin that never left her face spoke volumes.

They are breaking camp and continuing north tomorrow morning. They will be heading out around 8 a.m. Carmen told us the best place to watch as they leave. Because, as cool as it was to see the camp and the cattle grazing, it's got to be way cooler to watch 450 cattle being herded by a lot of dedicated cowpokes. There will be pictures. I just hope I don't run into this bad boy.

Home

2007-09-29T12:10:00.000-07:00

Hubby went away for a week, to Minnesota. He went to help our son move, to celebrate his mom's birthday, go to a seminar with his dad, and play some golf where it's not hot as hell. For various reasons, I opted out of this trip. I figured I would get some 'me' time and maybe some 'girl'time with my daughter.

I pretty much didn't cook, ate whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it, or ate nothing because I felt like eating nothing. I didn't clean, other than keeping the sink from piling with dirty dishes (I wouldn't have actually washed the dishes, I mean, there is a dishwasher), or do much laundry. Not that hubby expects these things to be done on some sort of schedule when he's around. In fact, he really doesn't. I just didn't feel like, say, changing the sheets. Some days I was kind of a slob. If I didn't have anywhere to go other than maybe the grocery, I didn't even shower. Daughter and I watched some chick t.v. when she was home for the weekend. I watched a little when I was here alone. Some Lifetime, Oxygen, Turner Movie Classics. Maybe some USA, a little TNT, who remembers?

Jess had planned to ride her motorcycle while she was here, but the battery was dead, so she was going to charge it. When she moved it, she realized her tags were expired, and she left it kind of in the middle of the garage. I figured I would move it back so hubby could get his car in when he got home. I got it mostly figured out, but the back was too heavy to scoot, so I left it a little in his path.

On the night he was due home, I heard a car door in the garage, so I went out to see him. He had just gotten back into the car after moving the bike. He saw me come out and I got the smile. The same smile I saw when I met him, eyes lit up and the dimples and it was like the sun coming up. Twenty-five years later, that smile still melts me. Then he opened up his arms and I went into the safest place I have ever been. He was home, and so was I.

Okay, maybe I watched a little too much sappy television while he was gone. Whatever.

I Deserve a Break Today

2007-09-24T16:15:00.000-07:00

The Geico gecko bugs a lot of people. I don't really mind him. Probably because, when we lived in Corpus Christi, geckos were everywhere and I thought they were really cute. Well, I did mind that morning when I opened the cupboard door to get my coffee cup and a gecko leapt off the shelf and onto the countertop. From there, he made a jump to the refrigerator and stuck there like a magnet. And I really didn't like it when I pulled back the shower curtain to find two of them in the bathtub. Oh, and there was that time that my mom and her friend (who was also her boss) were visiting. We opened the front door and two geckos ran into the house and under the couch. My then four year old son raced after them, threw himself on the floor, looked under the sofa and said, "Where did those damn geckos go?" Kids. They say the darndest things.

There are a few ad personalities that bug me a lot, however. Like this dude, whose plastic surgery went horribly awry. I'm pretty sure when my kids were little, they would have been terrified of this guy.

The Quaker Oats man has been around forever, and he never really bothered me. But now he's lurking around every corner, at the school bus stop, carrying trays of sweets for the children. My mommy told me to steer clear of freakishly dressed weirdos who offered me candy.

I don't like the Nasonex bee, either. His eyes are creepy and he likes to assault pretty flowers. He's also seriously in need of a good orthodontist. And what is up with that accent? No wonder the French hate us.

But I have to say, the ad that bugs me the most is the one for Air Wick. For a long time, I didn't even know which air freshener was being advertised, because I was too distracted by the big purple elephant with the English accent. Who was having trouble controlling odors in her home because of all the smelly sneakers that were funkifying the atmosphere. Because she's married to a centipede. Now that's just wrong.

Boundaries Please

2007-09-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

When my daughter was born, I told my husband that someday he would have a teenage daughter and a menopausal wife at the same time. That time has arrived. Which may be why hubby has spent a good deal of time in Minnesota the past month. Seriously, I don't think we're that bad, but I have had a good case of the blahs, which has resulted in neglect of my house, yard and blog. However, while clicking aimlessly through channels a couple of days ago, I heard something that made me stop. I thought I heard someone say "anal bleaching," so I waited to see what it was that they had actually said. And it was this: anal bleaching. I can't not write about that.

I listened while a woman described very matter-of-factly what this was. And then I got online because I wanted to know if she was putting me on. I found this article, which told me way more than I ever wanted to know about it.

Okay, I don't even get the whole Brazilian wax phenomenon, but anal bleaching. Who really needs this? Crappers Quarterly says porn stars. I don't watch porn, so I don't know, but do these areas really get that much camera time? Models and actresses. I guess if you're Britney Spears and you insist on going pantiless and getting out of cars that certain way she does, but other than that, who sees this particular part of one's body? Other than your doctor say, during a prostate exam, and he probably doesn't really care what color it is. I mean, isn't it kind of like bleaching the back of your throat?

I guess nothing really is sacred anymore. We have Oprah and Dr. Oz talking about poop on a weekly basis, and now we are discussing the tint of our anuses. I'm just saying.

Old Blue

2007-08-28T13:50:00.000-07:00

So after hubby relinquished the keys to the Civic he had just bought, the search for a car for him resumed. He found exactly what he wanted in a small town in Missouri. He was leaving for a trip to Minnesota anyway, so he opted to make a detour to pick up the new car and leave the old one in Missouri. Awhile ago, we were cleaning out the fifteen year old Accord. After having told Jeff that I don't get attached to vehicles, I have to admit I had a twinge or two thinking back on our adventures in Old Blue.

Here she is the day we picked her up at Krenzen Auto Mall in Duluth. Our first ever brand new car. The first summer we had her, the kids and I took a 2000 mile trip to New Mexico. Later that summer, we all headed to Seattle, another 2000 miles. In August, my daughter took an art class at The Depot. One of the assignments was to draw a picture of what you had done over the summer. Most kids drew lakes or swimming pools or skylines of Minneapolis. My daughter drew a picture of a little blue car. When the teacher looked confused, Jess explained that she had spent a LOT of time in that car over the summer.

Our little blue car took us to Seattle, California, Washington D.C., Canada, and a lot of other places in between, as you can see.She's a little worse for the wear, but she still plugs along. Yeah, I did get a touch of nostalgia for all the family vacations we took when the kids were little. So I must be somewhat attached to the car. But here's the cool part. The people hubby is buying the car from are going to buy Old Blue and fix the CV joints. There is an elderly couple in their small town who need a car and don't have one, so Old Blue will be a gift to them. Now that's good karma.

Easy Come, Easy Go

2007-08-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

This is the vehicle that our daughter has been driving for the past two years. I call it The Banana. It's been a fun little truck for her, and the 4WD served her well the winter she spent in Minnesota. It's also been great for muddin'. For those of you not from these parts, muddin' is pretty much what it sounds like it would be, and the ultimate conclusion to a good muddin' session is a trip to the car wash.

Recently, Jess made up a budget for college and realized that The Banana is not a good car for commuting to and from college (those weekend trips home to do laundry and get some mom cooking). She made an ad for Auto Trader online with plans to start looking for a more gas friendly automobile.

Meanwhile, hubby has been tooling around in a Honda Accord with 320,000 miles on it. He's been sorta kinda looking for another vehicle, and last Thursday, he found one. A nice little Honda Civic only an hour away in Stillwater. Last Friday, he drove the Accord down and bought the Civic. Later that afternoon, Jess put her ad online.By Saturday morning, she had received five calls about the truck. One of them was a farmer up near Topeka (about a 4-5 hour drive from here), who said he would drive down that afternoon with payment. So Jess and a friend set out to clean the truck in anticipation of a sale. During this time,she's still getting calls and e-mails from interested parties.

Late afternoon, the farmer and his wife pull up. He checks out the truck, takes her for a spin, and his wife writes a check, 24 hours after the ad was placed. He was happy, we were happy, as we watched The Banana turn the corner and disappear. Jess, remembering all the good memories of the truck, heaved a little sigh and looked a bit rueful. Then, she turned around and beheld a shiny, red Civic parked in the garage. Dad reached into his pocket and handed her the keys. It's all good - he really didn't want a red car anyway.

Oh, and I think the farmer is going to want to remove this. Yeah.

U.N.C.L.E.

2007-08-19T01:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting at the desk again with the insomnia. That started with the whole daylight savings time and I thought that would be the end of it, but NO!

I have pictures of my family covering my desk. I was trying to decide if I wanted to read or watch television or just lie in bed praying for sweet sleep, when this picture of my son (one of my favorites) started looking weird to me.

I'm starting to wonder if this is really my son, or an actual 'Rooshan' spy in the guise of my son. Check it out. There is snow in the background. The hat, Russian down to the fur. He's obviously not a big fellow, but his coat is wide, so I'm thinking there are cool spy things hidden in it.

His left hand is freakishly long, almost like an amphibian device. The right hand seems normal, but there is a large ring-like implement on the third finger. I'm thinking some sort of locating device, or a transmitter.

Then, there is his face. Note the piercing eyes and the bushy,arched brows (which he gets from me - no, wait, he's not my son, he's a spy). And it looks like he's implanting something into the propellar of the plane while trying to look cool for the picture.

I'm thinking he's up to some evil and I would like to know what he's done with my son. Having said that and gotten to post a blog after a fairly stressful week, I think I'm going to sleep. I know it's summer, but keep your eyes open for guys in mad bomber hats.

Paper Tiger

2007-08-10T14:30:00.000-07:00

I'm not big on celebrities. I think most of them get way too much press for really stupid things. Sure, I like to watch their movies or listen to them sing, but they don't do many things aside from that that I find particularly admirable.

There is a group that I find impressive, however, and that is professional golfers. Not only are they great athletes (they make golf look easy, and it ain't), with rare exception, these guys are down to earth. Most of them don't have the arrogance of other professional sports stars, they donate their time and money to a variety of charities, and when they win a tournament, the first thing they do is embrace their children. I like that.

Two days ago, we had the opportunity to attend a practice round of the PGA Championship at Southern Hills in Tulsa. This is how much I wanted to go see my golfers. I don't do mornings and I don't do heat. I got up at 4:30 a.m., drove to Tulsa and spent five and a half hours walking in the 95+ degree weather. I not only got to watch the guys play golf, I got to take pictures. One of my favorite golfers is Retief Goosen. He plays amazing golf, and I am in awe of him because he has been struck by lightning. Twice.

The first time, he was 15. It burned his clothes off and melted his shoes. He was in the hospital for six days and two weeks later, he was playing golf again. Okay, I'm not going to focus on how dumb it is to be out playing golf when there is lightning around (twice), because that would spoil my image of what a badass he is. It was probably freak lightning from a clear, cloudless sky anyway. Yeah, I'm sure of it.

So I, who isn't easily impressed, came around a corner and turned into a teenage girl at a rock concert because "OHMIGOD IT'S TIGER WOODS!"

The only thing cooler than to watch him drive and get a couple dozen pictures would have been to get his autograph. Probably just as well I didn't get that close to him. I might have passed out. Just saying.

Times Have Changed

2007-08-07T14:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the dorms opened at OSU. Daughter was eager to check out her crib and make a game plan for what she will need when she moves in, in a couple of weeks. Check out her new digs.

I'm very impressed with this space. It's actually in one of the older buildings on campus and it's not central to the campus. Which means she'll walk a lot, which may help fend off the freshman fifteen. She doesn't have a roommate and she has her own bathroom.

Being there got me to thinking about the dorms I stayed in when I was in college oh so many moons ago. Always had a roommate and two suitemates. Now there's a kooky plan - four teenage girls and one bathroom. Our beds were narrow and hard, we had desks the size of postage stamps. We didn't have mini-fridges or microwaves or laundry rooms (non-coin operated even) down the hall next to the lounge with the cozy chairs and flat screen television. There wasn't a coffee shop or a cafeteria on the bottom floor.

We had RA's who had been trained by Hitler. We also had room inspections every few weeks, so we had to keep everything shiny and clean. And my room did not resemble hers at all. In fact, I found a picture that reminded me of one of my dorm rooms.

I'm just saying.

My Peeps

2007-08-06T01:45:00.000-07:00

I've been in a slump and not prone to writing, and I think I've figured out why, due to some big deal things. A wedding, a baby shower, and kids going places. I homeschooled for several years and then my kids went back to public school. We lived in a small town and our son went to school there. But our daughter wanted to do junior high thirty miles south, so I drove her down every morning and went back to get her in the afternoon. Do the math. It was worth it. And this is why.
Bad picture of a picture. The guy on the left is Joe. Joe is the kindest, most sensitive person on the planet. He has a great singing voice. I would have a van full of kids talking louder than you can imagine. ANY song that came on the radio, you would hear Joe's voice from the back of the van "I LOVE THIS SONG!" Always followed by a chorus of "JOOOOOOE!" They all called me Mom. One time, Joe needed my attention. After a few feeble "Moms,", he said "Mrs. Kooiman!" Brought the entire van to dead silence. Love it.

Next over is Jennifer. Jenn was a year older and didn't spend much time at my house. Suffice it to say, she's a firecracker outside and a marshmallow inside.

Fourth over is Kate, whose wedding we attended yesterday. Surrealistic, given that my favorite memories of her are riding on the back of the lawn mower while Jess mowed our lawn in Pond Creek.

Next is Jess, who gets a lot of press on this blog. Then, there is Bennett. My favorite memory of Ben is when he and my daughter were doing a project together. It consisted of building a finite object from balsa wood, and designing it in such a way as to stand many pounds of pressure before collapsing. They had been working on it in class for a couple of weeks, and had one weekend to finish on their own before grading. I picked the kids up after school, dropped several of them off, and got to Ben's house. When he got out, their project fell out of the car and shattered. Bennett looked down and was silent for a couple of seconds. Then, he broke out into bwaahahaha laughter. I wish I had a picture of that face.

Then there is Tonica, third from left, a force with which to be reckoned. Since I've known her, when she was 13, that child could belt out a song . . . you can't imagine. She sings all the time. The only time she didn't walk through my door singing, she walked through it after a breakup from a year long relationship with her first love, straight into my arms, crying. I prefer the singing. Hubby has said for years that he would sponser her to audition for American Idol, and I would go as her chaperone. I wish she would do that. She just left for boot camp for National Guard. I'm so proud and so scared.

These are my kids. They have been a huge part of my life. I love them beyond measure. I pray that their lives are all they hope for, and I am so grateful that I have been blessed to have experienced them.

Home on the Range

2007-07-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

I have been in a slump or a funk or whatever and have not been motivated to post anything on my blog. Very sad. I haven't been inspired to write the last installment on our recent trip to Wisconsin and the harrowing trip home. I wouldn't even have to think much about it because the grisly details are still fresh in my head. No, just been feeling vaguely mopey-ish.

But today, something happened that catapulted my motivation into action. Jessica and I got in the van to run an errand. I usually go north out of our neighborhood and hang a left on the first street, which is right on the edge of town. So, fairly rural. Today, on a whim, I decided to take the twisty route south through our residential area for a change. I turned a corner and saw something interesting. It actually took a few seconds for it to register and go wait, what? That's just not right. I wasn't the only one, as traffic was stopped up and down the street. Of course, I had to grab the camera and take some pics for the blog.

I don't know if they were just out for some exercise, maybe wanted to play a little basketball or take a dip in the lake. I don't even know where they came from. But it is, after all, Oklahoma. Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain. And the cattle go strolling through the lawns.

The Okies in the Dell

2007-07-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

Our son's girlfriend thought it would be nice to celebrate his birthday in the Wisconsin Dells, and graciously asked if we would like to accompany them. This made for a lot of driving because we went straight north from college orientation in Oklahoma. But it was his birthday, after all. The Dells is a real touristy town with tons of things to do. "See the loveli lakes, the wonderful telephone system, and many interesting furry animals, including the majestik moose . . ." Sorry. Anyway, the main attraction to the Dells are the resorts and water parks, many indoor (because of the winters, doncha know). These things are popular because they drive you through the woods and then take you down streams and onto lakes.

We arrived at our waterpark resort late in the afternoon with just enough time to hang out at the pool and sip fruity little drinks with umbrellas. We only had one whole day there, so everyone had to decide how they wanted to fill it. Next morning, the girls went in one direction, went horseback riding, shopping at the outlet mall, made a stop at the deer petting farm, and headed back to the hotel for more water fun. The boys and I headed to a sweet little golf course I had located online. Let me tell you, we are not used to trees on our golf course. Let's just say they were problematic. On the way out, I saw my next vehicle.

We all met up and went to a funky little restaurant for the birthday dinner. Of course, we had to ask the waitress if they had any kind of birthday ritual, which they did. She said it was "borderline embarrassing," so it was a done deal. After she left, my son decided he just HAD to make a visit to the little boy's room. While he was gone, the waitstaff showed up with a huge sundae and a couple of other little things and were dismayed to find him gone. They left the sundae and told us they would be lurking about waiting for his return. He came back, saw the sundae, and got all cocky that he had managed to elude them. Suddenly, someone crept up behind him and placed something on his head. The look on face says it all.
When I shot this, the staff was clapping and singing a very loud birthday song. Fun times.

We only had half a day left, so the next morning, we headed into town to behave like complete tourists, check out the shops and buy some t-shirts. Downtown Dells is an interesting place. This certainly caught my eye.
The sign above the door reads "have a swig with Nig." I wanted to go in and see what was up, but apparently, it was too early in the day for such an establishment to be open.

So, we had lunch and went our separate ways. Which will be the subject of the next post. Dunh, dunh dunh! The Ride Home. Hint: there has been recent flooding.

Mynd you, moose bites kan be pretti nasti. I'm just saying.

Slip Slidin' Away

2007-07-01T18:15:00.000-07:00

For the first time in two years, we actually went away for a few days of fun. I know, we work too hard. We started out Monday morning driving to Stillwater for our daughter's OSU orientation. That was a day and a half of some good information infused with some total BS. I think we ultimately came out okay, but I have to confess I fell asleep in a couple of the parent sessions.

For those of you not from these parts, this guy is a local icon. "He" started out as a bar, evolved into a burger joint and now has a Mexican and an Italian branch. We ate at the Italian. My first Eskimo Joe dining experience. I highly recommend it.
From Stillwater, we headed east toward Tulsa. These roads are good, but take you through a lot of small Oklahoma towns with some really neat things to photograph.

Now this is just plain cool. I would wager that the folks who worship here are some good people. I'll bet if you needed anything, they would totally have your back.

We ended up getting onto I-44 in Tulsa, which is on the old Route 66, which, if you've read previous posts, you know I love. There are still so many of the old-timey restaurants and kitschy sights to see. Classic cars, a big pink elephant, not sure why, but it was fun. Unfortunately, it was on the other side of the road. And we were in a hurry.

We spent the night in a small town in Missouri, got up early and had so much fun in St. Louis. Not. Coming into town, we were informed that the route we wanted was closed due to an overturned semi on the Poplar St. Bridge. We reverted to Plan B via hubby's atlas and daughter's GPS. Ended up in the ghetto. Where I attempted to enter the left turn lane only to find a pimp mobile was trying to pass in that lane, he had to take evasive action to roar around on the right and continue straight while giving me what has to be the longest flip-off in the free world. That's okay, at least he didn't stop and open fire. We got back on track and drove for many eons until we reached our destination. But that is a post for tomorrow . . .