We were riding the motorcycle a couple of nights ago on our way to a new restaurant CoolGuy saw and wanted to try out. (Unfortunately, the location we went to was only open for lunch...) We ended up traveling south on Las Vegas Boulevard in the downtown section--not The Strip. The distinction is that downtown is a little shabby and far less manufactured and corporate.
So, as we were riding up the street through the older part of town I noted the sequence of businesses.
a) Wedding Chapel
b) Bar
c) Strip Club
d) Bail Bonds
All that was missing was the attorney. You know, to get you back out of jail and file the divorce papers.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Cousins Reunion
The two little blondies that are the same size in the center and just to the right in this picture are my cousin and I. My birthday is February and hers is October. Our dads were brothers. We seldom had any of these occasions when we were all together--they were four girls, we were four girls (and then two more girls and two boys, eventually)--[and the girl on the end is from the third sibling, our dads' sister). So, now after probably 40 years since we last visited, my cousin and I have spent a week together. Our dads would be excited that their kids are getting together again.She has retired and wanted to buy a house here in the desert because she lived here for many years and the climate agrees with her. Her husband is still working in Oklahoma, but he's willing to live here, too, upon his eventual retirement. In the meantime, she'll split her time between the two homes for her health. I got involved in this, after having not seen her for so long, because her dad, just before he died a couple of years ago, put her in contact with my brother who lived near her in OK. When she told him she was coming out to Nevada, he forwarded that info to me, we exchanged e-mails, and I was very happy this week to help her out of a jam when the closing didn't go through as planned and her hotel room budget was being drained dry.
She has stayed at our house, and spent the days dealing with realtors, property managers, bankers and contractors. Tonight she could finally move into her new house. We'd been storing several boxes at our house (she bought new furniture here) and we got it all carted over there and she is unpacking.
It has been interesting to talk about the ways our lives diverged, the commonalities, the memories we have our limited family interactions as children. The fact that the few photos we have of her dad are all of him holding a string of trout. He loved to fish, just like my dad...Family ties. It's good to have them. And now, I have a relative in town.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Beat the Heat on the Grey's River Loop
We went to Wyoming for a three-day trip. There was a wedding in CoolGuy's family and it was being held at the Box Y Ranch, a favorite place to visit, so it was an easy decision to go. Also figuring into the equation was the temperature in Las Vegas on Thursday: 110 degrees. The Box Y is at about 7000 feet above sea level, so we knew it wouldn't be 110 there. It was, however, 85 at the peak of the afternoon. When we left Las Vegas the temperature on our truck's thermometer was 108 and ten hours later, as we went over the pass into our hometown's valley the thermometer read 49 degrees. It was amusing. We got back and it's still at 110 here. But, it is summer and it is the Mojave Desert, so I'm not surprised nor complaining. The swimming pool is the mitigating factor here.
As we left the ranch, CoolGuy asked if I'd like to take the scenic route home. (As if anywhere we drove up there would be the non-scenic route...) So we traveled around the "loop", following the river to its headwaters, going over a little pass, and going down back down the other side to end up on the opposite end of Star Valley. It was outrageously beautiful. There were wildflowers everywhere. We saw towering mountains still amply streaked with snow in the ravines. We saw a bull moose, a cow and her calf, some antelope, grazing deer, cattle and sheep. There were expansive meadows and narrow ravines where the road seemed to be little more than a trail with the shrinking stream rushing below us in the twilight of the dark pine trees. We finally got to the top of Three Basin Pass (where the water travels downward into the three different drainage basins: Columbia, Great Basin and Colorado) and then the streams grew wider as they picked up capacity from all the little springs and trickles on that side of the divide.
Here are some photos. What a drive! What a fabulous area! I can't believe I lived on the west side 
of this place for all those years and didn't even go there. The bigger picture is a beaver lodge in a pond. The smaller image is a long view of a valley that goes east to another town in Wyoming on the other side of that mountain.
of this place for all those years and didn't even go there. The bigger picture is a beaver lodge in a pond. The smaller image is a long view of a valley that goes east to another town in Wyoming on the other side of that mountain. 
The 
next few are pictures of wildflowers--lupine, sunflowers and Indian paintbrush.
next few are pictures of wildflowers--lupine, sunflowers and Indian paintbrush. 
And the final one is a cow moose and her calf. They were standing in a stream as we came around a corner and they didn't like us seeing them, so she was heading uphill into the trees. 
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Government Groupies
We had a tour of the Capitol Building while we were in D.C. I've been there before, a couple of times, but it isn't a place where you go once and then the next visit is just ho-hum. Each time you are there, it is obvious that you are in a special environment with history seeped into every corner. If you forget for a minute that it is a unique location, you can just look down and perhaps there will be a brass plate on the floor declaring this spot to be where A.Lincoln had his desk when he was in the House of Representatives. Or, there will be a bust of John C. Calhoun in an alcove as you walk down a corridor.
Then, you can wait in a line, pass through another metal detector (in case you were able to slip something through the metal detector and purse search at the main door), you can quietly enter the gallery of the House or the Senate. There you take a seat above the main chamber floor where the two legislative bodies covene. First, we went into the House gallery and looked around at the empty desks, asked quiet questions of the guide standing there. I told the two granddaughters about how the Constitution allows every state two senators, but the representatives were apportioned according to population, so there are many more of them. After about 10 minutes of boring (for them) sitting there looking at empty chairs, we left.
We (the grandmothers) wanted to see the Senate chambers too, but we promised the girls that if there was a long line, we wouldn't make them wait. Luckily there wasn't a wait at all. We whisked through the metal detectors, left our electronics with the guards and slipped into the gallery seats to discover that the Senate was in session! Someone I didn't recognize was giving a speech about an amendment that was on the floor. The Sergeant at arms was there, the clerks, the pages, but--only one senator--the one speaking. Weird...but then Senator Boxer from California came in and called for a vote on the amendment. And over the next fifteen minutes, 98 senators came through the doors (which were opened by pages) and went up to the clerk's desk to give their vote, which she then announced into her microphone. (Two senators, Byrd and Kennedy weren't there because of medical reasons.)
"Mrs. Feinstein, No. Mr. McCain, Yes." etc. etc. We (the grandmothers) were beside ourselves. We recognized face after face as they came through the door. Knowing we'd be immediately ejected by any outburst, we pantomimed our excitement as each political celebrity walked into the room and went up to record his or her vote. They stood around in little clumps chatting with one another while the entire process was completed. The amendment was not passed, Sen. McCain got on a mic and complained to the body about not doing as the president had asked--pass the amendment-- "My Friends", and urged them to reconsider and then everyone filed on out the doors again.
The granddaughters watched the two grandmothers wiggle and whisper-squeal with one another, and I tried to explain. "It's like if you went to a Jonas Brothers concert and Hannah Montana showed up too, and Beyonce..." Sort of...But I think they got my drift. We finally left and when we got out into the foyer again, with our electronics and purses returned, the grandmothers grabbed each other's hands and jumped around in a little circle and squealed out loud, for real. Yes, we got looks...but hey!! It was like all those celebrities showing up at once for us political junkies. So awesome...
Then, you can wait in a line, pass through another metal detector (in case you were able to slip something through the metal detector and purse search at the main door), you can quietly enter the gallery of the House or the Senate. There you take a seat above the main chamber floor where the two legislative bodies covene. First, we went into the House gallery and looked around at the empty desks, asked quiet questions of the guide standing there. I told the two granddaughters about how the Constitution allows every state two senators, but the representatives were apportioned according to population, so there are many more of them. After about 10 minutes of boring (for them) sitting there looking at empty chairs, we left.
We (the grandmothers) wanted to see the Senate chambers too, but we promised the girls that if there was a long line, we wouldn't make them wait. Luckily there wasn't a wait at all. We whisked through the metal detectors, left our electronics with the guards and slipped into the gallery seats to discover that the Senate was in session! Someone I didn't recognize was giving a speech about an amendment that was on the floor. The Sergeant at arms was there, the clerks, the pages, but--only one senator--the one speaking. Weird...but then Senator Boxer from California came in and called for a vote on the amendment. And over the next fifteen minutes, 98 senators came through the doors (which were opened by pages) and went up to the clerk's desk to give their vote, which she then announced into her microphone. (Two senators, Byrd and Kennedy weren't there because of medical reasons.)
"Mrs. Feinstein, No. Mr. McCain, Yes." etc. etc. We (the grandmothers) were beside ourselves. We recognized face after face as they came through the door. Knowing we'd be immediately ejected by any outburst, we pantomimed our excitement as each political celebrity walked into the room and went up to record his or her vote. They stood around in little clumps chatting with one another while the entire process was completed. The amendment was not passed, Sen. McCain got on a mic and complained to the body about not doing as the president had asked--pass the amendment-- "My Friends", and urged them to reconsider and then everyone filed on out the doors again.
The granddaughters watched the two grandmothers wiggle and whisper-squeal with one another, and I tried to explain. "It's like if you went to a Jonas Brothers concert and Hannah Montana showed up too, and Beyonce..." Sort of...But I think they got my drift. We finally left and when we got out into the foyer again, with our electronics and purses returned, the grandmothers grabbed each other's hands and jumped around in a little circle and squealed out loud, for real. Yes, we got looks...but hey!! It was like all those celebrities showing up at once for us political junkies. So awesome...
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Off-Line
I returned last night from a week in Washington D.C. with my friend and her daughter and granddaughters. We stayed in a motel that did not have a business center, and as a result, there was not computer access for me all during that week. And I survived nicely. I did read the Washington Post everyday, which was really indulgent. It is one of my favorite newspapers to hold and read. Note how I didn't just say "read" because I don't really enjoy reading it on-line too much, although I do read parts of it. But as a reading experience, the WaPo is simply marvelous.
The newsprint they use is sturdy and feels good in your hands. They have a nice mix of photos and writing. They employ such excellent writers, too. I don't always agree with their editorial positions, but I love to read the way they write it down. I even read the sports section of the WaPo just for the craftsmanship.
When I read the paper (any newspaper) I need to read all of it. It is probably just a manifestation of some sort of disorder that I obsessively read an entire newspaper. But I can't help it. And when I'm reading the Washington Post it is a very satisfying hour. Reading a paper on-line just doesn't do it for me. So, that's one thing I miss since leaving Maryland--the daily paper.
The newsprint they use is sturdy and feels good in your hands. They have a nice mix of photos and writing. They employ such excellent writers, too. I don't always agree with their editorial positions, but I love to read the way they write it down. I even read the sports section of the WaPo just for the craftsmanship.
When I read the paper (any newspaper) I need to read all of it. It is probably just a manifestation of some sort of disorder that I obsessively read an entire newspaper. But I can't help it. And when I'm reading the Washington Post it is a very satisfying hour. Reading a paper on-line just doesn't do it for me. So, that's one thing I miss since leaving Maryland--the daily paper.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
The First on the Fourth
33 years ago, it was the Bicentennial of the United States of America. (Well, yesterday it was, anyway. I didn't realize it was so late when I sat down here.) So all of the country was in a state of massive celebration and there were parades and speeches and I remember they sailed the USS Constitution again and a lot of spectacular spectaculars occured. But mostly it all went right past our family.
We had our very own Spectacular Spectacular event. We brought our first born child home from the hospital on the Fourth of July, 1976. He was born on the first. His due date was July 1st. Isn't that just so convenient that he was born on his due date? It set a standard that most of his siblings could only approach, and none of them achieved. Most were pretty near, the last one quite a long time after, but I always had that expectation that pregnancy and birth would be orderly and sensible because his whole existence up to, and including, his birth were orderly and sensible. When he came out, the doctor held him aloft and declared, "It's a boy." To which his dad replied, "I know." Now, mind you---we didn't get sonograms or 3-D prenatal photos in those Olden Days. His dad just knew. He'd had a feeling one day, and from then on, we just knew.
So, anyway, I'll always remember the fabulous Bicentennial Celebration of the United States of America because I missed it all. I do remember walking around my living room with him in my arms, realizing that it was the Fourth, and just being really excited that we were all home, our new son was so cool, and that no celebration could ever eclipse the fabulous, fantastic reality of being a parent.
And, so far, no celebration has ever done so. And he is still a fabulous, fantastic son.
We had our very own Spectacular Spectacular event. We brought our first born child home from the hospital on the Fourth of July, 1976. He was born on the first. His due date was July 1st. Isn't that just so convenient that he was born on his due date? It set a standard that most of his siblings could only approach, and none of them achieved. Most were pretty near, the last one quite a long time after, but I always had that expectation that pregnancy and birth would be orderly and sensible because his whole existence up to, and including, his birth were orderly and sensible. When he came out, the doctor held him aloft and declared, "It's a boy." To which his dad replied, "I know." Now, mind you---we didn't get sonograms or 3-D prenatal photos in those Olden Days. His dad just knew. He'd had a feeling one day, and from then on, we just knew.
So, anyway, I'll always remember the fabulous Bicentennial Celebration of the United States of America because I missed it all. I do remember walking around my living room with him in my arms, realizing that it was the Fourth, and just being really excited that we were all home, our new son was so cool, and that no celebration could ever eclipse the fabulous, fantastic reality of being a parent.
And, so far, no celebration has ever done so. And he is still a fabulous, fantastic son.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Packrat Payoff
I have finally started my summer vacation. School ended on June 5th, but I was immeshed in a graduate class that took up many hours, and then preparation for the family reunion scooped up the rest of the time. I also traveled a couple of places. But...here I am, up to my elbows cleaning out my spare room/office. Since we have a newly empty space in our bedroom because we were able to take our daughter her cedar chest, I've decided to move some bookshelves over to that room. Which requires that I clean them out first. Which is a time consuming operation, because I need to evaluate each item to see if it is a keeper or a tosser. I've found some really excellent artifacts, too. I opened the binder that holds my oldest son's elementary school memories and found an envelope from his college freshman composition class. It has fantastic essays in it! Plus, how I could I resist re-reading the scrapbook made by my former co-workers in the school where I taught for nine years?
But, the best find, there only because of my dreadful pack-rat tendencies...is a packet of medical papers from my adventures in mal-digestion from four years ago! When I took an antibiotic that destroyed the good flora in my guts resulting in months of diarrhea. Yes, months. So, now I have a similar malaise and even though my gastroenterologist has ruled out worse problems, his evaluation that "there is nothing wrong with you" is incorrect. There is definitely something wrong with me. But, now I have a whole packet of papers complete with the name of the medication that solved the problem four years ago. So, I will move this bookcase, and then I will drive over to the walk-in clinic where I started this whole mess when I got the initial meds for the sinus infection, and tell them what to prescribe. I'm on my way to Washington D.C. on Sunday for a week being the tour guide for my friend and her grandchildren. I know I'll be standing in line a lot, and I know how few and far between the public bathrooms are there.
But, the best find, there only because of my dreadful pack-rat tendencies...is a packet of medical papers from my adventures in mal-digestion from four years ago! When I took an antibiotic that destroyed the good flora in my guts resulting in months of diarrhea. Yes, months. So, now I have a similar malaise and even though my gastroenterologist has ruled out worse problems, his evaluation that "there is nothing wrong with you" is incorrect. There is definitely something wrong with me. But, now I have a whole packet of papers complete with the name of the medication that solved the problem four years ago. So, I will move this bookcase, and then I will drive over to the walk-in clinic where I started this whole mess when I got the initial meds for the sinus infection, and tell them what to prescribe. I'm on my way to Washington D.C. on Sunday for a week being the tour guide for my friend and her grandchildren. I know I'll be standing in line a lot, and I know how few and far between the public bathrooms are there.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Family Time
I've been very busy during the last week preparing for my family reunion. When my mom died three years ago, we all agreed, in a meeting following the service, that we would have a formal family reunion each year. Our parents worked very hard to maintain family ties with their extended families, and in some cases, that took a lot of effort. So we made a decision, unanimously, that day when we all became orphans, to meet each year. We divided up the responsibility for host duties so that two of us would be in charge each year. This year it fell to me and my youngest sister, so we decided to have the party at her home in our home town.
She and her husband were heroic! They hosted 46 people for two or three days! We ate there, we slept there and at different relatives' homes around the valley, but the main event on Saturday from noon to 6:00 was all at her house. He got several of his horses from a distant pasture so we could take rides with our little grandchildren. He helped cook breakfast and dinner on the grill and in Dutch ovens. He put up with non-stop talking and laughing. I really appreciate his willingness and sportsmanlike attitude. She was a human dynamo! She is so calm with all the amazing chaos around her. She made a variety of huge salads the day before, she constantly answered questions of "Do you have..." "Where is the..." "Can I get a ..." with patience and calm and everything turned out fabulously. We simply had a terrific reunion and I totally credit them with a large portion of the success because of their incredible hosting.
We had a chance to sit and discuss the life of our Dad, who died 25 years ago. I'd prepared a presentation with pictures and narration that came from memoirs that each of my brothers and sisters wrote and sent to me. We made a disc for every adult in the family (so I can send them to those who weren't there) and included the pictures, the articles, and several other documents that are relevant to our Dad's life story. I did a good job, thank you, and it was all due to my very difficult graduate class from this winter where I learned to make a really good presentation using PowerPoint. Anyway, it turned out great, I had a fine time creating it, and Cool Guy outdid himself in converting it to a format that everyone can use, and adding the documents. Then, he copied all the discs for me AND made a really awesome label. The label was the crowning touch. Then he and our son set up and ran the technology so we could all view it.
So we had a good trip, we enjoyed the camraderie of relatives, Star Valley was exquisitely green and blooming, the weather cooperated by being perfect. I am relieved that it is finished, we've been plotting it for a year. And I'm relieved that it was so fine. So thanks to everyone in my family who helped and we'll look forward to next year! It'll be great too!
She and her husband were heroic! They hosted 46 people for two or three days! We ate there, we slept there and at different relatives' homes around the valley, but the main event on Saturday from noon to 6:00 was all at her house. He got several of his horses from a distant pasture so we could take rides with our little grandchildren. He helped cook breakfast and dinner on the grill and in Dutch ovens. He put up with non-stop talking and laughing. I really appreciate his willingness and sportsmanlike attitude. She was a human dynamo! She is so calm with all the amazing chaos around her. She made a variety of huge salads the day before, she constantly answered questions of "Do you have..." "Where is the..." "Can I get a ..." with patience and calm and everything turned out fabulously. We simply had a terrific reunion and I totally credit them with a large portion of the success because of their incredible hosting.
We had a chance to sit and discuss the life of our Dad, who died 25 years ago. I'd prepared a presentation with pictures and narration that came from memoirs that each of my brothers and sisters wrote and sent to me. We made a disc for every adult in the family (so I can send them to those who weren't there) and included the pictures, the articles, and several other documents that are relevant to our Dad's life story. I did a good job, thank you, and it was all due to my very difficult graduate class from this winter where I learned to make a really good presentation using PowerPoint. Anyway, it turned out great, I had a fine time creating it, and Cool Guy outdid himself in converting it to a format that everyone can use, and adding the documents. Then, he copied all the discs for me AND made a really awesome label. The label was the crowning touch. Then he and our son set up and ran the technology so we could all view it.
So we had a good trip, we enjoyed the camraderie of relatives, Star Valley was exquisitely green and blooming, the weather cooperated by being perfect. I am relieved that it is finished, we've been plotting it for a year. And I'm relieved that it was so fine. So thanks to everyone in my family who helped and we'll look forward to next year! It'll be great too!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day
I've spent the better part of the last three days making a presentation for my upcoming family reunion. It is the reunion of my parents' family and, since this year is the 25th anniversary of his death, we are going to highlight my dad's life. Most of the grandchildren don't remember him or weren't even born yet during his life. I've been putting captions with photos telling about his childhood and the years of our family as they added one child after another until all eight of us were born. I've been having a great time, and each of my brothers and sisters have sent me a memoir of him from their growing-up years. We have a theme: his love for us, his hard work, and the way he took care of people less fortunate than himself.
I hope our children will also be able to look back and appreciate their father, too. I'm confident that they will, because I think they appreciate him now. I know we all appreciated our dad at the time, too, as well as in retrospect. But here are a few examples of why Cool Guy was/is a great dad.
He was never afraid to get right in there and be the dad. He changed diapers and cleaned up vomit and walked all night with sick babies. This might not seem so amazing, but when we started with the baby-having time in our lives, this wasn't common place for men to do.
He set a good example that work was for everyone. He got up from the table one day when the first ones were very small and said, "Would you rather have me give baths, or clean up the kitchen?" I was taken aback. He'd already worked his job all day, and the home was my job. But he said he felt dumb sitting there reading or whatever while I did all of it, and it was no problem for him to join in. So, he'd choose a "helper" and the two of them would clean up the table and wash the dishes while Mom bathed the babies. Everyone took their turn helping Dad and learned that it isn't just Mom's house--we all live here, so we should all help doing the work. Plus, he has had a paycheck-paying job since he was 12 years old. That, all by itself, is a legacy for our children...who all work to support themselves and their families in a very responsible way.
He's very funny. Humor is a great quality to have in a family. If you can't laugh at things that happen, then you're in for a very difficult life. He doesn't make fun of others, he's just able to laugh at himself and at situations. It's a good skill to have with teenagers, because a little laughter helps people to not take themselves too seriously and lightens the atmosphere for all.
So, Happy Father's Day, Cool Guy. I appreciate the awesome children you helped me create. I hope they'll always appreciate you.
I hope our children will also be able to look back and appreciate their father, too. I'm confident that they will, because I think they appreciate him now. I know we all appreciated our dad at the time, too, as well as in retrospect. But here are a few examples of why Cool Guy was/is a great dad.
He was never afraid to get right in there and be the dad. He changed diapers and cleaned up vomit and walked all night with sick babies. This might not seem so amazing, but when we started with the baby-having time in our lives, this wasn't common place for men to do.
He set a good example that work was for everyone. He got up from the table one day when the first ones were very small and said, "Would you rather have me give baths, or clean up the kitchen?" I was taken aback. He'd already worked his job all day, and the home was my job. But he said he felt dumb sitting there reading or whatever while I did all of it, and it was no problem for him to join in. So, he'd choose a "helper" and the two of them would clean up the table and wash the dishes while Mom bathed the babies. Everyone took their turn helping Dad and learned that it isn't just Mom's house--we all live here, so we should all help doing the work. Plus, he has had a paycheck-paying job since he was 12 years old. That, all by itself, is a legacy for our children...who all work to support themselves and their families in a very responsible way.
He's very funny. Humor is a great quality to have in a family. If you can't laugh at things that happen, then you're in for a very difficult life. He doesn't make fun of others, he's just able to laugh at himself and at situations. It's a good skill to have with teenagers, because a little laughter helps people to not take themselves too seriously and lightens the atmosphere for all.
So, Happy Father's Day, Cool Guy. I appreciate the awesome children you helped me create. I hope they'll always appreciate you.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Bathing Suit Solution
I've worn out all my swimming suits. My one really favorite one was killed by an overdose of chlorine from the pool at the hotel in San Diego at Christmas. But the others have just deteriorated through the four years I've been swimming here in my own pool. We don't have to use as many chemicals as a commercial pool because it is usually just the two of us. The filter can keep up with our cooties with just a little boost from a floating chlorine tablet basket. But, the sun and the years and the chemicals have finally wrecked all of my suits and I have been shopping for a new one.
What a drag. Quite a few parts of me have changed in the four or five years since I last bought a suit. None of them for the better. I'm just a bit too larded to comfortably fit into the biggest Misses size, but I'm not quite yet one of the X girls...you know--20X, 22X, etc.
So, I've come to the realization that the ultimate solution is: just go to nude beaches for the rest of my life. You see, there I wouldn't need to worry about looking like a pregnant grandma encased in Lycra. Nor would I look like a German sausage in floral casing. I would just be another person in skin. I'm guessing that most people at a nude beach aren't there to make judgements about the rest of the naturalists. So, I could just calmly be a little saggy, a little too chubby here and there, a little wrinkled and cellulitish without a qualm.
Or, I could try and lose 10-15 pounds this summer by exercising and eating more salad and fewer cookies.
Hmm...I'll have to give this some thought.
What a drag. Quite a few parts of me have changed in the four or five years since I last bought a suit. None of them for the better. I'm just a bit too larded to comfortably fit into the biggest Misses size, but I'm not quite yet one of the X girls...you know--20X, 22X, etc.
So, I've come to the realization that the ultimate solution is: just go to nude beaches for the rest of my life. You see, there I wouldn't need to worry about looking like a pregnant grandma encased in Lycra. Nor would I look like a German sausage in floral casing. I would just be another person in skin. I'm guessing that most people at a nude beach aren't there to make judgements about the rest of the naturalists. So, I could just calmly be a little saggy, a little too chubby here and there, a little wrinkled and cellulitish without a qualm.
Or, I could try and lose 10-15 pounds this summer by exercising and eating more salad and fewer cookies.
Hmm...I'll have to give this some thought.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Not-so-Dusty Winnemucca Road
If you're a Johnny Cash fan, then the title should provoke humming. If not...google it. But, we were in Winnemucca on Friday and it was definitely not dusty. It rained most of the way across northern Nevada on I-80 all day Friday and Saturday. It was beautiful and green. And orange--as in safety cones funneling us all into one lane of the interstate while crews fixed the other lane--either widening it or repaving it. Blah. We spent a great deal of time wedged between 18-wheelers inching our way along. Then, we'd break free for a few miles and it would start raining again. And not just rain, but torrential downpours that forced us to drive slowly again. So, instead of traveling at 80 on 80 (as is traditional in Nevada) we alternated between 40 and 60. But, it was a pleasant drive anyway with hilarious commentary between Lil' Dude and SBoogie in the back seat.
"But, I don't want to be a mountain."
"Yes, you have to be a mountain and I will be the clouds.."
"No, mountains have grass on dem. I don't want to have grass."
And on, and on.
Oh, pleasant, except for the, ahem, cramping and nausea. I just finished a dose of antibiotics to wipe out a sinus infection before I flew up to Sacramento and I wiped out more than the infection. I also apparently wiped out all the good flora and fauna in my digestive system, too. So, about one hour after I'd eat anything, the pain would start. It is actually quite a long way between rest stops in Nevada. Pepto Bismol helped for a few hours, but ultimately we had to find somewhere to stop for a few minutes for Grandma. Geez, I'm such an old lady. I got some meds this afternoon to restore everything to normal. Whew, because I've "gone" everywhere, man.
"But, I don't want to be a mountain."
"Yes, you have to be a mountain and I will be the clouds.."
"No, mountains have grass on dem. I don't want to have grass."
And on, and on.
Oh, pleasant, except for the, ahem, cramping and nausea. I just finished a dose of antibiotics to wipe out a sinus infection before I flew up to Sacramento and I wiped out more than the infection. I also apparently wiped out all the good flora and fauna in my digestive system, too. So, about one hour after I'd eat anything, the pain would start. It is actually quite a long way between rest stops in Nevada. Pepto Bismol helped for a few hours, but ultimately we had to find somewhere to stop for a few minutes for Grandma. Geez, I'm such an old lady. I got some meds this afternoon to restore everything to normal. Whew, because I've "gone" everywhere, man.
Friday, June 05, 2009
Coed Redux
Yesterday, I had my photo taken and was given my 5th college ID card. It's not that I lose them. I mean, it was the fifth college for which I've needed an ID card. And that doesn't include the three other colleges I've attended for just a single class through an affiliation with a school in which I was enrolled. Or, I attended a week-long or week-end seminar, and was allowed to receive credits by having seat-time and writing a big paper. Whenever I request transcripts, it is quite a production.
I intend to complete my master's degree here at UNLV and then---that's it! NO more degrees, no more transcript requests. No more ID cards. Too bad I didn't keep all of them, it would be a cool post to scan them all in and see how I've changed over the years.
I intend to complete my master's degree here at UNLV and then---that's it! NO more degrees, no more transcript requests. No more ID cards. Too bad I didn't keep all of them, it would be a cool post to scan them all in and see how I've changed over the years.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
June Zoom
Well, if you look at my calendar for June there are very few days that do not have an appointment. Sigh. But, it's all my own fault. I agreed to be on a textbook selection committee way back in January. That is four days worth. Then, I signed up for a graduate class--hey--It's 3 credits in four weeks! That's a deal. Then I only have to take one class per semester next winter and spring to fullfill my required 3 classes per year. But, it's a doozy and is MTW from 4:00-6:45 and she pointed out that we would not be finishing early. Ever. There's the family reunion. There are two doctor appointments. I must go to physical therapy three times a week to try and help my pathetic right leg. And, minor detail, I have school the rest of this week and next Monday (the last two days are teacher days) and I have to pack up my entire room to be moved out so they can rip out the ceilings and replace the air-conditioning.
So, if I'm not blogging much in June, it's because I don't have a spare minute. See you in July.
So, if I'm not blogging much in June, it's because I don't have a spare minute. See you in July.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Don't Take Your Ego to Fourth Grade
About a year ago, in anticipation of my pending appearance on television, I changed my hair slightly. I have worn my hair long for years. I occasionally catch a glimpse of myself in a reflection and will be dismayed to see a haggy looking old person looking back. But...I've cut my hair short several times in my life and I've always disliked it intensely. So, I continue to wear it long, now it is long and mostly gray. But, the style I got last summer was a bit of a change--a few layers, just to give it some body, and I really like it that way. It is still possible to French braid it or wear it up in a clip or a bun, so it wasn't too radical. This picture is from 1974...
This morning, I washed my hair, dried it, used the curling iron and the hair spray and I was pleased with the result.
I went to school, and about 1:00 P.M. a boy said, "Is this crazy hair day today?"
I replied, "Not that I know about, why?"
"Oh, you just looked like you fixed your hair for crazy hair day, that's all."
Hmmm...that's all.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Workers
I just returned from a weekend surrounded by my people. I went to a family wedding, then spent the next two days with a variety of sisters, visiting cemeteries in the communities that dot the valley of my childhood home. We placed an abundance of flowers on the graves of loved ones because I've reached that age where I know about as many people underground as I do above-ground. As we visited the cemeteries I encountered a few old friends and several relatives. We chatted, and I realized that, whereas I've moved a long way from the world of my youth, they live right there, still surrounded by people who mostly earn their living through physical labor of some type.
When I was growing up, everyone I knew--including most of my teachers--lived on farms and milked cows or raised cattle or sheep. This involved the related activity of growing feed that could be stored and used to keep these animals alive throughout the long winter. Everywhere I looked there were vast acres filled with grain or hay, carefully cultivated, and then cut and stored, always through the hard work of us people. Again, I repeat, even many of my school teachers had farms and animals and were engaged in this pursuit, despite having graduated from college and being employed in professional, white-collar jobs.
The fact that they farmed as well as taught school, or ran a ranch (a local doctor) or had a herd of sheep (a store owner) seemed normal to me--in fact--it seemed correct. After all, in my mind, farming was the premier job. It was the job that resulted in all the other jobs. It was like this: if there weren't farmers, then there wouldn't have been a tractor dealership, nor a grain mill, nor a creamery/cheese factory, nor the hardware store. Then, there wouldn't be people who needed to shop at the grocery store, or the drugstore, or go to a movie theater, restaurant or bar. There wouldn't be children for teachers to teach, or patients for the hospital. It all started with the farmers; the others just came along to serve his needs.
It may be a faulty concept, but it illustrates my teeny-tiny world at age 10. But I have always been proud of my farm girl roots. I remember once meeting the father of a college roommate. He had a prominent, highly regarded job in a very large city, and had grown up there, been educated there, and was reknown in his world. He asked what my father's profession was, and I proudly told of his dairy farm in Wyoming. The tone of the reply and the expression on this man's face made it clear to me that this pride was wholly unrequited and, in fact, dismissed. At that moment, I lost my respect for that person, and didn't consider him my father's equal. My dad would have shown much more regard for someone's work, regardless of its stature in the world's eye.
This brings me to a pet peeve. I am a teacher, yes. But I think we in America have made a big mistake in educating every student as though they are all going to grow up to be English professors. It doesn't suit everyone. We still need plumbers and mechanics. By insisting that a school's success is only measurable by the number of students who are accepted to a university following their high school graduation, we cheat those kids who would be happier and much more suited to work in the trades. I think that a "degree" has become devalued. There are many students who are completely unsuited for the standard college-prep curriculum. They'd be so much better off in a program that truly taught them a marketable skill. A few high schools here in Las Vegas have been retooled, or built from scratch, to do just that.
But there are far more students who would benefit from that type of education more than they do from the usual "push everyone into the round hole of college-prep" that schools are attempting now. The drop out rate will never go down as long as boys see no point in their literature class when they can already earn money repairing cars. Why not offer a comprehensive course for these natural mechanics that includes reading skills and math but in a context that will be useful for them and help them to become capable of operating a business, or at least managing someone else's shop? Then there would seem like there was a point to the torture that school is for many. Such a torture that they readily drop out and turn to gansterhood for a buck, when they have a talent for so many other jobs that don't require one to write about the motivation of the characters in a book written by a lonely English woman two hundred years ago.
I don't mean to disparage literature--I love it. But we need to find a solution to the thousands of students in our cities that drop out of our traditional schools because they see no point to the education we are forcing on them. There must be another way to help these students gain a skill with which they can support themselves. There is a lot of effort put into building self-esteem, but true self-esteem comes directly from being competent and knowing you can do things for yourself. Here's a link to an article my daughter sent me that articulates this much better than I do. I hope that we can retool our education system and really help our students to gain more from their public education than a sense of frustration and failure.
When I was growing up, everyone I knew--including most of my teachers--lived on farms and milked cows or raised cattle or sheep. This involved the related activity of growing feed that could be stored and used to keep these animals alive throughout the long winter. Everywhere I looked there were vast acres filled with grain or hay, carefully cultivated, and then cut and stored, always through the hard work of us people. Again, I repeat, even many of my school teachers had farms and animals and were engaged in this pursuit, despite having graduated from college and being employed in professional, white-collar jobs.
The fact that they farmed as well as taught school, or ran a ranch (a local doctor) or had a herd of sheep (a store owner) seemed normal to me--in fact--it seemed correct. After all, in my mind, farming was the premier job. It was the job that resulted in all the other jobs. It was like this: if there weren't farmers, then there wouldn't have been a tractor dealership, nor a grain mill, nor a creamery/cheese factory, nor the hardware store. Then, there wouldn't be people who needed to shop at the grocery store, or the drugstore, or go to a movie theater, restaurant or bar. There wouldn't be children for teachers to teach, or patients for the hospital. It all started with the farmers; the others just came along to serve his needs.
It may be a faulty concept, but it illustrates my teeny-tiny world at age 10. But I have always been proud of my farm girl roots. I remember once meeting the father of a college roommate. He had a prominent, highly regarded job in a very large city, and had grown up there, been educated there, and was reknown in his world. He asked what my father's profession was, and I proudly told of his dairy farm in Wyoming. The tone of the reply and the expression on this man's face made it clear to me that this pride was wholly unrequited and, in fact, dismissed. At that moment, I lost my respect for that person, and didn't consider him my father's equal. My dad would have shown much more regard for someone's work, regardless of its stature in the world's eye.
This brings me to a pet peeve. I am a teacher, yes. But I think we in America have made a big mistake in educating every student as though they are all going to grow up to be English professors. It doesn't suit everyone. We still need plumbers and mechanics. By insisting that a school's success is only measurable by the number of students who are accepted to a university following their high school graduation, we cheat those kids who would be happier and much more suited to work in the trades. I think that a "degree" has become devalued. There are many students who are completely unsuited for the standard college-prep curriculum. They'd be so much better off in a program that truly taught them a marketable skill. A few high schools here in Las Vegas have been retooled, or built from scratch, to do just that.
But there are far more students who would benefit from that type of education more than they do from the usual "push everyone into the round hole of college-prep" that schools are attempting now. The drop out rate will never go down as long as boys see no point in their literature class when they can already earn money repairing cars. Why not offer a comprehensive course for these natural mechanics that includes reading skills and math but in a context that will be useful for them and help them to become capable of operating a business, or at least managing someone else's shop? Then there would seem like there was a point to the torture that school is for many. Such a torture that they readily drop out and turn to gansterhood for a buck, when they have a talent for so many other jobs that don't require one to write about the motivation of the characters in a book written by a lonely English woman two hundred years ago.
I don't mean to disparage literature--I love it. But we need to find a solution to the thousands of students in our cities that drop out of our traditional schools because they see no point to the education we are forcing on them. There must be another way to help these students gain a skill with which they can support themselves. There is a lot of effort put into building self-esteem, but true self-esteem comes directly from being competent and knowing you can do things for yourself. Here's a link to an article my daughter sent me that articulates this much better than I do. I hope that we can retool our education system and really help our students to gain more from their public education than a sense of frustration and failure.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Techno Mama
Wow, I achieved a level of technological independence last night that is unprecedented. I needed to take the photos off my camera. I can do that. But...I wanted them onto my i-Pod--the Christmas gift from Cool Guy so my gramma-cam photos could be carried around conveniently. Well, when he gave it to me in December, he'd put several groups of photos on it already. But these were recent pictures of both sets of grandchildren from Spring Break. Since I'm headed up to a family wedding this weekend, I wanted to take the pictures on the i-Pod to show off.
Cool Guy is out of town. I was reduced to managing my own technology. Uh-oh. But, guess what? I DID IT! He'd shown me what to do, and I remember it seemed really easy and intuitive. Just, click, click, select, load, sync, wait. Except that when I went to actually do it last night, several days after he'd shown me how...rot-roh. I googled directions. They seemed relatively easy. I followed them. It worked. I could load up a particular folder of photos. But--it removed all the other folders already there. I could put another folder on, but every time it removed the current folders.
So, I tried again, and again. I read some more directions. Then, finally I found a folder labeled "i-Pod" in my pictures folder and YES--this time I realized it was the folder that Cool Guy had directed me to initially. I clicked, clicked, selected, loaded, synced and waited and...and...and...
I have cute pictures to carry with me and show off to my sisters! Yeah! I didn't get upset, I didn't give up, I just kept clicking here and there and looking at folders and voila! Success!
(This whole post is for Cool Guy--he'll be excited that I've done something successful while clicking all over and looking for blue bars.)
Cool Guy is out of town. I was reduced to managing my own technology. Uh-oh. But, guess what? I DID IT! He'd shown me what to do, and I remember it seemed really easy and intuitive. Just, click, click, select, load, sync, wait. Except that when I went to actually do it last night, several days after he'd shown me how...rot-roh. I googled directions. They seemed relatively easy. I followed them. It worked. I could load up a particular folder of photos. But--it removed all the other folders already there. I could put another folder on, but every time it removed the current folders.
So, I tried again, and again. I read some more directions. Then, finally I found a folder labeled "i-Pod" in my pictures folder and YES--this time I realized it was the folder that Cool Guy had directed me to initially. I clicked, clicked, selected, loaded, synced and waited and...and...and...
I have cute pictures to carry with me and show off to my sisters! Yeah! I didn't get upset, I didn't give up, I just kept clicking here and there and looking at folders and voila! Success!
(This whole post is for Cool Guy--he'll be excited that I've done something successful while clicking all over and looking for blue bars.)
Monday, May 18, 2009
Music Day
A couple of weeks ago, our bishop held an unusual Sacrament meeting program. He'd asked me the day before at a Scout function if I'd be okay with the format he wanted to use, and I assured him I could do it. He borrowed this idea from a previous bishop, and it was wildly successful.
Instead of speakers, we held a version of testimony meeting, only--the testimony had to be about a hymn that was meaningful to you for some reason. Then, after your introduction, the congregation would sing the hymn. It was actually really fun! We had an interesting variety of people, from old to young, a mix of men and women, and their choices were just as random.
We sang some old familiar standards. We sang a couple of the Primary songs that are now in the hymnbook. When someone announced a song I knew I could not manage on the organ, I just walked over to the piano to accompany everyone. One person chose a song that neither I nor the conductor knew, so she asked him to stand at the microphone, please, and help us. It was a lovely song, and since it was in classic hymn format, not that hard to play after all. It was arranged by Ralph Vaughn Williams whose arrangements are highly loved by choral groups.
I recommend this activity to any of you as an interesting way to really wake up your ward and have a great, spiritual meeting. It's good to do no more often than once a year. We had so many who wanted to tell about a song, that ultimately we were forced to sing just one verse of their hymn. Sometimes, they requested a particular verse, not just the first.
My choice for the meeting was "Though Deepening Trials" which you can listen to if you click the play button at the link. However, I prefer to play and sing it at a faster tempo that this version. It is an optimistic song. The words are written by one of my favorites, Eliza R. Snow, and it tells us to be cheerful and happy because Christ is Lord and He watches over us all. My favorite thing is to sit and play and sing it when no one is listening. It is a terrific hymn. Here is verse 3:
Instead of speakers, we held a version of testimony meeting, only--the testimony had to be about a hymn that was meaningful to you for some reason. Then, after your introduction, the congregation would sing the hymn. It was actually really fun! We had an interesting variety of people, from old to young, a mix of men and women, and their choices were just as random.
We sang some old familiar standards. We sang a couple of the Primary songs that are now in the hymnbook. When someone announced a song I knew I could not manage on the organ, I just walked over to the piano to accompany everyone. One person chose a song that neither I nor the conductor knew, so she asked him to stand at the microphone, please, and help us. It was a lovely song, and since it was in classic hymn format, not that hard to play after all. It was arranged by Ralph Vaughn Williams whose arrangements are highly loved by choral groups.
I recommend this activity to any of you as an interesting way to really wake up your ward and have a great, spiritual meeting. It's good to do no more often than once a year. We had so many who wanted to tell about a song, that ultimately we were forced to sing just one verse of their hymn. Sometimes, they requested a particular verse, not just the first.
My choice for the meeting was "Though Deepening Trials" which you can listen to if you click the play button at the link. However, I prefer to play and sing it at a faster tempo that this version. It is an optimistic song. The words are written by one of my favorites, Eliza R. Snow, and it tells us to be cheerful and happy because Christ is Lord and He watches over us all. My favorite thing is to sit and play and sing it when no one is listening. It is a terrific hymn. Here is verse 3:
Lift up your hearts in praise to God;
Let your rejoicings never cease.
Though tribulations rage abroad,
Christ says "In me, ye shall have peace."
Christ says, "In me, ye shall have peace."
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thirty Five Years
To keep your marriage brimming,
with love in the wedding cup,
whenever you're wrong, admit it;
whenever you're right, shut up."
Ogden Nash
Ogden Nash
Today is the thirty-fifth anniversary of the grand experiment of the CoolGuy/Earthsignmama connection. According to the data, the partnership should have been easy. We grew up in homes seven miles apart, in the same cultural, religious, and educational institutions.
However, we could hardly be more different in temperament. We have managed to work with these differences and raise five excellent children. We have worked hard to stay married, and forgive and forget when necessary. We've come to realize that each of us have been greatly improved by the need to grow and accommodate the other. We are better friends now than we have ever been. We know that we really need each other, and that this need isn't a failing, but is essential to a happy marriage. When you recognize that need, then you can relax and be in love. Love is why we've stayed married through all the exciting adventures and misadventures.
So, Happy Anniversary! Here's to many, many more.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Carpenter Cool Guy
I have a new closet. It was formerly the hall coat closet, but now it is a very useful pantry. Our house has many fine qualities. But storage space in the kitchen is not really one of them. The kitchen area is small and open to the dining room/family room area, and therefore entirely lacking one wall on which to put more cupboards. So we got the idea to transform the coat closet, just around the corner, into a pantry closet. It turned out great!
Cool Guy, as you know, is very clever with tools. He is a master mechanic, can fix computers, plumbing, electrical stuff, the pool equipment...lots of things. But I just didn't realize he was such a carpenter, too! I'd looked at different closet systems in home improvement stores and on-line, but I wasn't satisfied with any of them. Well, he got some heavy-duty plywood and his electronic leveler and his measuring tape and you can see the fabulous results! He put in deep shelves on the diagonal so that the narrow door didn't prevent him from using all the interior space. I still have room for my winter coats (which I use occasionally, but usually just for visiting up north) and the ironing board. But I have loads of room for food storage, all my big bottles of various liquids and spices, my vast cookie cutter selection, and waaaaay up high--out of reach--some ant spray. I'm just delighted. I told him that my carpenter Grandpa would be pleased as anyone at this delightful and professional transformation. Now he's inspired to start in the bedrooms! Neato!
See the diagonal shelves? I will be able to get more storage items now that I have an adequate place. One cannot have too many cans of olives for the coming Apocalypse.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Remembering Mother Day
It will soon be three years since my mother died. She was anxious to leave, by the end. My dad had died 21 years before, and she never stopped missing him. I understand. She'd been doing okay, not great, but then she suddenly went into decline, and less than three months later was gone. We honored her well at her funeral, we all rejoiced that she was finally free from the decades of pain she'd hid so well from the world, and we know that she and our dad had a wonderful reunion.
But, it doesn't matter how old you are when you become an orphan, it still feels bad. I haven't erased her phone number from my cell phone. Her address is still in my contacts. Every year I make Mother's Day cards with my students in which we write a cinquain poem about their mother. I show them the sample card I made about my mom (it is about 8 years old) and they always ask if I'm going to mail it to her. They get very quiet when I tell them she isn't alive anymore, but then I say that she was really old, and she is in heaven with my dad, and it breaks the tension. I would love to mail her a card. I compulsively call my sisters in a rotation because I used to call my mom just to chat about the latest trivia concerning my children, and even after three years I still miss having her to tell it to.
I remember when her mother died. I was 19. Grandma had been extremely ill for a couple of years. She'd lived with my aunt and was bedridden, and mostly out of it for a year. She was quite old, too. So, I blithely came home from college for the funeral thinking it was routine. My aunts and mom were up half the night in the kitchen talking, laughing, crying. My grandpa looked lost. He sorted photos at the table. It dawned on me that more than just a little old sick lady had gone. She was the Mother. It was only four years after the tragic death of their youngest brother, an Air Force test pilot, so the sisters were still heart-bruised from that. So, even though their mother was relieved of her burdens, I now know how they felt. Mother is Mother. It's never a good time for her to go.
But, she left me a good legacy of working hard, being cheerful, being kind and generous, and of always keeping family ties strong and active. So, this Mother's Day I will think of her fondly and hope that some far off day* my own children will miss me as much as I miss her.
*(from my lips to God's ear..."far-off day")
But, it doesn't matter how old you are when you become an orphan, it still feels bad. I haven't erased her phone number from my cell phone. Her address is still in my contacts. Every year I make Mother's Day cards with my students in which we write a cinquain poem about their mother. I show them the sample card I made about my mom (it is about 8 years old) and they always ask if I'm going to mail it to her. They get very quiet when I tell them she isn't alive anymore, but then I say that she was really old, and she is in heaven with my dad, and it breaks the tension. I would love to mail her a card. I compulsively call my sisters in a rotation because I used to call my mom just to chat about the latest trivia concerning my children, and even after three years I still miss having her to tell it to.
I remember when her mother died. I was 19. Grandma had been extremely ill for a couple of years. She'd lived with my aunt and was bedridden, and mostly out of it for a year. She was quite old, too. So, I blithely came home from college for the funeral thinking it was routine. My aunts and mom were up half the night in the kitchen talking, laughing, crying. My grandpa looked lost. He sorted photos at the table. It dawned on me that more than just a little old sick lady had gone. She was the Mother. It was only four years after the tragic death of their youngest brother, an Air Force test pilot, so the sisters were still heart-bruised from that. So, even though their mother was relieved of her burdens, I now know how they felt. Mother is Mother. It's never a good time for her to go.
But, she left me a good legacy of working hard, being cheerful, being kind and generous, and of always keeping family ties strong and active. So, this Mother's Day I will think of her fondly and hope that some far off day* my own children will miss me as much as I miss her.
*(from my lips to God's ear..."far-off day")
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