It Rained

It rained in the desert a couple of nights ago. I'd seen the lightning zapping the mountains to the north as I came out of the temple. It was hot. My truck thermometer registered 105, at 9:00 P.M. It's August...it's going to be hot. I drove home, watching the lightning skitter over the sky as it slowly advanced toward our house. I'd been home about a half hour, when the thunder claps started on our block. The windows shook, it was so close. When the lightning lit up the whole yard around the house, I opened the front door so I could watch without being out there in it.

Soon, the sidewalk began to receive huge splashing raindrops, but very few of them. You could easily count them because there was enough space between each. I watched as each drop hit, spread out bigger than a quarter, and then immediately began to fade and evaporate until there was no evidence of its having been there. I realized the sidewalk was still so hot, that it took only seconds for the rain to dry up as it landed. I counted--ten seconds from splat to dry.

But then, the tempo of the rain picked up, new drops fell so quickly that I could no longer distinguish one wet spot from another. It started to drip off the roof, and soon it was pouring off in a stream. Roostertails of water flew from the car tires as people drove down the steaming street. In a moment, the sidewalk was puddling and a trickle ran off into rocky dirt so dry it couldn't absorb it for a few minutes.

The spicy scent of creosote and sage filled the fresh air that wafted across our street as the clouds unzipped. The leaves opened every pore to drink in the fleeting moisture, letting their pungent resins spread through the atmosphere. The splatter of the raindrops caused the palm fronds to wave gently and I breathed deeply the cool, fragrant smell of rain in the desert. The thermometer on the patio registered 88 degrees. It was 10:15 P.M.

Back in the Game

And by that, I mean the Cute Shoes game. I've always had weird feet, and I've always searched for cute shoes that would fit on my weird feet, and allow me walk in them. There are a lot of cute shoes out there.

 But I can't really wear most of them, especially now, because they don't offer the support need by my newly reconstructed tendons.

I don't have room in these for the icky new shoe inserts that I ought to wear. But mostly, I'm just not able to balance enough to wear heels like this. My toes aren't really helpful like they used to be. 



Even these cuties don't offer enough support, and I'd just be aching and limping if I wore them for  few hours.

However....CoolGuy was looking on-line recently, and found a website that offered clothes to people who love to go to certain car shows and have a particular taste in music: rock-a-billy. He was looking up the details for the Primer Nationals in Ventura, California, that is held on the Labor Day weekend each year. We went a couple of times and it is quite fun. The show is for cars and trucks older than 1968 and motorcycles 1969 and earlier. CoolGuy's bike is a 1969, so he sometimes thinks of entering it. I don't know if he'll enter it this year, but I think we'll still go. We lived in Ventura County for six years, and we'd really like to live there again, actually. But it is a fun weekend to take the motorcycle, and just spend a couple of days checking out old cars and motorcycles, and riding up and down the Pacific Coast Highway.

So, here's what CoolGuy found for me on this website:

Kitty Face Mary Janes!! Check out the tail below:

They are leather, they have those nice thick soles and they support my stupid feet very nicely. I've been wandering around the house wearing them since the FedEx guy dropped them off. I'm SO excited to wear them to school. Don't you want some, too??

Need An Idea for a Wedding Reception?

I went to the church on Saturday to practice for the Sunday hymns, and there was a wedding reception being created. I don't know who the bride and groom are. Apparently, there were a number of weddings on our side of town scheduled, and this couple had to book our building, because the buildings in their stake were all spoken for already. It's weird living here in almost-Mormonland, because the geographic size of the stake boundaries are so small, compared to most of the other cities in which I've lived. But, the decorator was busily working and I just wandered around admiring the theme.

The bride is enamoured of the "country" motif, and the groom, although not-so-much, signed off on the decor. It wasn't over the top, but actually really tasteful and I just wanted to share a few photos because it was so cute. And, hey, maybe one of you out there is planning a wedding and would like some ideas.

For example: the canning jar chandelier! I know I've seen this on some website, so it isn't original, but it is adorable. In the bottom of each jar is a battery powered votive candle. When it is dark, it will be illuminated and very attractive.

I didn't take a good close-up of these tables, sorry, but the centerpieces are also a series of jars, painted with matte paint, inside and out, in varying shades of brown and tan. And each grouping included a brown root beer bottle. The painted jars, which were all different sizes (some quart, some pint, some wide mouth, some narrow)--(they were canning jars and pickle jars and jam jars)--were filled with flowers later when the reception was about to start. Each jar was tied with ribbon or lace or raffia, and some had romantic sayings glued on in place of a label.

 (I sneaked back up there, just to see the final result, but there were lots of family members milling about, all dressed up, and even I didn't feel comfortable snapping pictures when no one knew why this weird lady wearing jeans was crashing their party... The flowers were in shades of orange and yellow and cream/white. They used snapdragons, daisies, sunflowers, mums. It was terrific!  There were flowers everywhere. Some of the vases were  hidden in cowboy boots placed around on the shelves and other decor surrounding the edges of the room.)

Also, notice the bows on the chair covers: wide burlap ribbons, tied into bows! The runner in the center of the table is burlap, too. They used burlap ribbons all over, some tied into bows, other strips were threaded on a string so that it formed twisted loops. It was very attractive. Along the side walls, there was a tall picket fence, natural old wood, and from the fence were hung photos of the bride and groom, pieces of country-stye decor (old lamps, rake and hoe, branding iron) and lovey sayings painted on wood posters. Here's one I especially liked:

They used the burlap and lace theme for hanging the photos and the pieces of decor on the fences, too.

You may be wondering, "What was the clothing theme?" Well, I just happen to know...The night before, I'd gone to the temple to be with a friend who was attending for her first time. Unfortunately, I lost my fabric envelope when it apparently fell out of my pocket, and even though we searched all over for it, it wasn't found. So, one of the nice ladies suggested that I return in the morning and check at the laundry because they have a Lost and Found there. So, on Saturday morning, as I was walking back out through the temple foyer, after successfully retrieving my newly laundered (!) fabric envelope, I saw two young adult women dressed in simple peach-colored, knee length lace dresses, wearing identical brown cowboy boots walking in the door. Hmmm...So that's what the bridesmaids are wearing, huh?

Anyway, it was very creative, cheerfully casual, and personal wedding reception decor. I hope the sweet couple had a pleasant wedding and that the party was as nice as the motif.

More Good Eats

This time I think I need to praise olives. Recently, we went to our favorite pizza place, Settebello, and I got the capricciosa: it features Greek olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and thinly sliced Italian ham. As I was savoring the olives, I recalled my olive evolution.

As a little kid, we ate olives fairly often, as I recall. They were not just reserved for special event meals, like Thanksgiving or Easter. Although we always had them on those occasions. It was always black olives. Sometimes they had pits, but sometimes not, because I distinctly remember putting olives on my fingers, and you can only do that with the pitted kind. As usual, my mother was serving 10 people most of the time, so everyone knew that you got three olives and that's all. But, we'd still put our olives on our fingers. I don't know why it is so irresistible to do that. But it is still occurring...

Black olives are really fine. They're good as a snack or with a meal. They are tasty cooked into things, they are great sliced up on pizza. They're just delicious. Then, I discovered green olives.

Green olives or Spanish olives, became my teen aged snob food. They weren't tasty to little kids. They are very sharp and vinegary and had a serious kick when you ate them. But I loved them! I felt sophisticated when I ate them. These were definitely only bought by my mother for holidays. But when I finally got a little cash of my own through babysitting, I bought my own bottle. The kind I found in our little grocery in the mountains always came with pimento stuffed inside. This just made them even more appealing because pimento was also exotic. To me. Then, I moved to California.

I could buy green olives with almonds stuffed inside. Or green olives with garlic stuffed inside. I even found green olives stuffed with jalapenos. Many of these were offered at the market stands that were along side an orchard. I'd buy bags of oddly shaped oranges that couldn't be sold to stores, but were perfectly delicious. They were offered at a bargain rate, so I'd have enough money to treat myself to exotic versions of green olives.

I don't know when I first tried Greek olives. I didn't like them. So, I avoided them for years. However, there must be something about being a Woman of A Certain Age, because now, they are my favorite version of olives. I buy them at the olive bar in markets that offer hummus and marinated mushrooms and sell specialty cheese. During school, I'll make a salad for lunch, and carry kalamata olives and fresh cooked beets in another container to add so that the marinade from the olives and the beets is the dressing. Yummm....salty and vinegary! Just the thing to satisfy for entire afternoon.

 I know that olives are an ancient food, mentioned in the Iliad, even.  The Bible references olive trees and olive cultivation over and over. I know that there are olive trees that are documented to be over 2000 years old. It is astonishing to me to realize that a plant can live so long and be productive yet.Olives and olive oil are such a part of Mediterranean culture and cuisine that I'm amazed that they made it, even in the canned form, to my little Wyoming world so long ago.

 Olive oil is so versatile, so amazingly varied and so healthy for you. I've watched television shows where the host joins in the olive harvest, and helps with pressing the oil. They drink it right from the press in a little cup and savor its amazing variety of flavors. When I looked up facts about olives, I learned that there are more than twenty varieties. I also found that more than twenty countries have a significant olive crop, Spain being the leader. Not all of them were Mediterranean countries either---Peru! Australia! Olives and the production and consumption of olive oil are no longer exotic. Both are world wide staples. I hardly use any other type of oil in my cooking.

So, when you feel tempted to put an olive on each finger tip, go ahead. Then slurp them off, one by one and savor the taste. Olives are full of fat, but it is the "good" kind. You'll be helping your heart with your consumption of olive oil and olives, and you'll be eating a food that the world has savored for millennia.

Invasion

Occasionally, the weirdest things happen. Take last night, for example. CoolGuy went out and turned on the pool filter, in preparation for heating the spa. It's done every night. A little water mixing to get the random fallen flower or leaf out of the spa and through the filters, then he switches it so that the water is just filtering within the spa so that the heater is only changing the temperature of that smaller amount of water. He turned on the pool lights to see that everything was working as it should, since he went out after dark to start it up. Then, per usual, we ate dinner while watching Jeopardy (yeah, yeah, old geezers...)

Then, he went outside to start the heater for the spa so that we would be able to do another nightly ritual--take a nice soak before bedtime. And, bonus night: full moon. It's lovely every night to soak in the hot tub and gaze at the night sky, but the full moon makes it especially pleasant.

Suddenly, he poked his head through the patio door and called, "Come and look at this!" I was thinking, "Extra special full moon?" Nooooo....invasion!!

It looked like leaves floating on the pool surface, or flower petals or something. But it didn't make sense because the wind was not blowing, the leaves on our tree are all green and the yearly wilt-with-the-heat had passed anyway. No...it was flying bugs who'd been attracted by the pool lights, apparently. Lots and lots and lots of bugs. Drowned and floating on the surface, piling up in drifts on the steps, covering the bottom of the pool as they sank.

It was ridiculous! In seven years of living in Nevada, I have not seen this many insects, cummulatively. Seriously. This is a relatively bug-free place. I mean, what are they going to live on? Sand? Dirt? There's not much food for insects here.

You can see the orange flowers that fall from a climbing vine we have, then get blown into the pool. But they are so random, that it isn't a nuisance. But the bugs!! We think it must have been some swarm that just happen to fly by, and seeing the lights on the pool, were attracted to their doom. Since it was dark, I could only get a couple of photos near the edge with the flash. It doesn't do justice to the vast numbers floating on the entire surface, and covering the bottom.

Weirdest thing this year. They were not ants, or termites. I have no idea what they were. They had long lacey wings, and bodies shaped like a little worm. And there were gazillions of them drowned in our pool and spa. So...we scooped them from the spa, ran the filters for another half hour in the pool and they all went away. See if we leave the pool lights on at night anymore!  

Summer Temples

I spent a lot of time traveling this summer, and as a result, I passed a number of temples. On the afternoon after my family reunion, I decided to go to the sites of some of these temples. I first drove around the Logan Temple. This is the second temple built that is still in service as an operating temple. (The St. George Temple is first. I visited there two summers ago.)

 The Logan Temple was dedicated in 1884...a really long time ago. It is another monument to people whose lives weren't that easy, yet knew that they needed the blessings of this edifice, so they sacrificed to construct it.  I've been inside a couple of times, for weddings and sealings of relatives. It's obviously a very old structure when you're inside. But, like the older temple in Southern Utah, it is clearly their very finest effort. I read an article about a family who honored one of their relatives who worked on this temple and lived in Brigham City. Their ancestor hiked over the hill to work on the temple, so the family reunion included the 27 mile hike.

Well, now, those people who live in Brigham City don't need to hike, bike or drive up over a pass (elevation: 5868 ft.) and through a series of canyons in order to go to the Logan Temple. They are getting their very own temple in September. The open house is August 18 through September 15. My aunt and uncle lived in Brigham City for about 40 years, so I've been there, and traveled on that canyon road in the winter. It's a really treacherous drive. I'm so excited that people don't have make that trip for the temple this winter. They can just go to this site now.

 It looks enormous, but it isn't really. It's a rather small design, only 26, 000 sq. ft. The Oquirrh Mountain temple is 60,000. But it is very lovely and looks terrific. I'm so happy for the people of Brigham City and the whole area.

Then, I drove south on I-15 toward Salt Lake City. I couldn't see the Odgen Temple from the freeway. They are remodeling it, and when you go to various websites, you can see how it looks now. As I continued on my trek, I knew the next temple I'd see from the freeway was the Bountiful Temple. It is a striking sight, too, perched high up on the "bench" that forms the lower part of the Wasatch Range along that section. These benches are portions of the shoreline of ancient Lake Bonneville. The settlers named their town Bountiful in 1855, and it lived up to its name because it was planted with orchards for many years and was an agriculture center. It's a very nice town, still, and during my drive around, while I hunted down the location of the temple, I was impressed by the obvious prosperity. Fewer orchards, more really nice houses.

This temple is perched on the bench and built down the slopes. The parking areas are on different levels, the view from everywhere is SPECTACULAR. You can see all across the valley that includes the entire Great Salt Lake. It's simply breathtaking. I'm really impressed at the engineering that got this building on this site. I also wonder how the patrons drive up there in the nasty weather that winter can bring. Especially during the "lake effect" storms that pick up the moisture off the lake to the west and dump many feet of snow on the east side. I guess this is the purpose of  snow tires and four-wheel drive, huh?

Well, next summer, I will have completed my endless master's degree studies (crossing my fingers) and so I will not have to attend classes in June. My friend and I have been planning a trip and we'll have to finally take it: the I-15 Temple Tour. Or possibly the I-5 Temple Tour. Either way, we're going to have a great time. The plan is to take an interstate, and attend each temple that is near it, from border to border. Although, now...there's a temple in Vancouver, B.C. so that will entail a border crossing. Cool. I'll keep  you posted. In a few years, we could start in Tijuana...hmm.  Maybe we'll have to do the I-15 trek first.

Frankenfoot--The Finale?

Look what I wore to church today:

Regular shoes! On both feet! At the same time! Cool.

Of course, I sit most of the time at church, playing the organ or the piano. But, it was a very exciting moment when I put these sandals on and realized that my feet weren't swollen and I could, in fact, put on the sandals! So, I wore them to church and I walked just fine, and everything felt excellent.

I discovered at beach camping that walking around in sand is a really theraputic activity for my feet. The sand supports my feet, but, it also moves. I was not hammering my feet against a hard and level surface (like every floor) but, the action of walking around on the shifting sand made every muscle, joint and tendon flex and move and support my body, but also allowed it to be supported. So I was flexing everything, using everything, and there wasn't any pounding involved. It was terrific! I've decided to make myself a sandbox to walk in. I have a big container (with a lid so no one ... KittyCat... gets the wrong idea) and I'll walk in place in it everyday to strengthen my weirdo feet.

Anyway, it was a thrill to wear church-like shoes again (not sneakers) and have my feet actually fit in them and to have walking around feel somewhat normal. Yeah!

It's Where I'm Meant to Be

I'm meant to be floating in the ocean.



 I'm meant to be on a body board, with the water rolling under me toward the shore.

I'm meant to be riding a wave while my grandchildren (or children) play in the surf.



I'm meant to be dripping wet from salty water with kelp swirling around my ankles.

I realize that I hadn't experienced this until I was an adult, but from that first experience in the Pacific Ocean, I knew that this was my natural environment. I love swimming in the ocean.

Thoughtful

This is a blog about a very thoughtful fellow. He is one of my grandchildren, and while we were camping at the beach last week, he showed it in several ways. He is a thinker. One night, as he was heading off to his sleeping bag, and hugging and kissing the adults who were sitting around the campfire, he turned to CoolGuy/Grandpa and noted, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have my mom! Thanks!" So dear...

Then, a couple of days later, he went out shopping with his sister and his aunt (who had generously picked them up at home, drove them to the beach, and then took care of them for four days, because their mother -- her sister -- had to work.)  They came home from shopping with their bounty and busily showed off the new flip-flops, and shirts and hats. And then, he pulled out a set of earrings from the bag. "Here Grandma, these are for you. I tried to find flamingo earrings, but we couldn't. So I got you these."

First, I couldn't even remember telling him about my wonderful flamingo earrings that had been stolen years ago. Then, that he would recall that story and be consciously looking for a replacement set (he's only six years old!) was just so dear. I carefully listened as he pointed out the details of the gift.

Look closely at them, and you should be able to realize why he felt these were an excellent substitute for the flamingos. They are beach camping earrings. There are the little campfires in the top center. Then, you see the suns on the bottom right, the sunscreen on the bottom left. See the frogs in the center bottom? Every night as we sat in our chairs and watched the campfire, we listened to the frogs singing in the marsh that edged the bottom of the canyon in which the campsite was located. There are little lanterns on the middle left--just like CoolGuy/Grandpa's lantern that hissed in the center of our dinner table. We weren't much bothered by bees, and their beehive wasn't a feature, but we sure did spend a lot of time with marshmallows (upper left) and graham crackers (upper right.)

In fact, S'mores making and toasting Starburst candies was the main purpose for sitting in front of the campfire in our chairs. We'd eat a melted Starburst (this activity introduced by Auntie) and partially eat a S'mores, but mostly we'd just set marshmallows on fire and watch them puff up into astonishingly large charcoal blobs, and finally, slip off the end of the toasting sticks and land on the hot coals. Don't know why setting things alight in the campfire is so intriguing, but it is. And it is an important part of camping: playing with fire (in a controlled environment.) I vividly remember, as a child, holding my marshmallow toasting stick in the coals until the end of it was glowing (or flaming,) and then waving it in cool patterns through the inky night air in the pasture where our family bonfire dinner had been served.

So, anyway, I just really wanted to share the wonderful gift I was given by a young man who is a thoughtful person, in so many ways. I immediately put the suns in my ears, and wore them the rest of the camping trip. Thanks again!

Too Busy Having Fun

That is why there haven't been any new posts lately! Yes, I've been waaaay too busy having fun. I got back from the east coast visit to the sons, and then worked double-time to finish the final project for my on-line class. Got an A, ta da! Then, I drove up to Utah and picked up three grandchildren. We returned to Las Vegas the next day and commenced "Grandma Camp."  Actually Grandpa was here, too, but since it is initiated by the grandma, I get to name it.

We mostly spend GC eating, swimming, staying up and watching movies, and playing games. Since we live in the Entertainment Capital of the World, ahem...mostly adult entertainment, I know...we also did a few visits to appropriate and fun venues such as the Shark Reef and the Springs Preserve. We had intended to also go to the Tournament of Kings dinner show, but, for the first time since I moved here, I couldn't get tickets on the night I wanted them. Procrastination...bah. However, we did stay in the swimming pool that evening until 9:45 P.M. as a bonus, because it was our last night of GC.

One night, after it got completely dark, we drove out into the desert to look at stars. We took the big air mattress, inflated it, and laid it on the ground and then just gazed at the show overhead. We saw a few shooting stars, and several familiar constellations. Grandpa has an app that you can use for the iPad for star-gazing. You hold it up toward the location in the sky you wish to identify, and the names of the stars, planets and constellations appear on the screen in red letters (so you don't mess up your night vision.) We were doing great, too, till Someone, ahem... said, "I wonder if we'll see any desert animals out there. Night is when they come out. Listen closely--maybe we'll hear a coyote."  Then one of the older cousins gave a little fake coyote howl, and the youngest cousin didn't realize it was a fake coyote howl, and had to climb back into the truck and hide. But, besides that, we actually had a pretty good time looking at stars.

Finally the end of Grandma Camp arrived, and we packed up and drove back up I-15 to their homes. That would be my fifth trip on this highway in a three week time span. Yeah. But, now it almost seems like a shorter drive because I know every inch of it so well. I watched the hay grow, then get cut, then baled, and now they were hauling it. I also saw a lot of amazing fire residue. Between two of my journeys, there was a huge brush fire that closed the interstate, and it was sobering driving along between the blackened swaths of the fire's trail.

Then, after depositing the children with their parents, and sharing our fun adventures, I attended my brother's and sister's reunion at my brother's house. It is so fun to see everyone. There were eight babies born between the 2011 reunion and the 2012 reunion! And four of them that were born within weeks of one another in March and April, were there for us to admire. It is a little disconcerting to realize that now, my sisters and I, are the gray-haired ladies of the oldest generation. I so vividly remember going to reunions with my mother as a child, and, frankly hardly knowing many of the people. But, hey--she had 25 aunts and uncles. But there were so many oldsters there. Now, I are the oldster. 

Then, I got back in the trusty Silverado and drove, one more time, south on I-15, back to the desert. Tomorrow morning: we head even more south! We rented a campground at the beach where we used to live, and some of our kids and the children are rendezvousing there for five days of laying around, digging in the sand, and swimming in the ocean. I'm taking books to read and I intend to lie in the hammock for an hour every day to do so. S'mores and dutch oven potatoes are on the menu. We'll see dolphins and go to the tide pools. I'm really making the most of this summer, as you can tell.

Here are the remaining brothers and sisters. We're still missing Trish...

I'm not really that short, (see below). I must have been standing in a low spot.

However, I am  that chubby...sigh.



We did a lot of this in Grandma Camp.....

We did a lot of this, too.

And we did a lot of this...

And I was informed, one afternoon, that the pool was more fun when Grandpa was there...Well...But, it was true. I mean, Grandma didn't initiate Super Soaker battles. Nor did she teach anyone how to sit on the bottom of the pool, and time how long you could stay down there. She also wasn't the one who tossed you straight up and across the pool from her clasped hands. Boring Grandma...



Walking Through History

One of the places I visited in my recent trip to the east coast was Boston. It's called "The Cradle of Liberty" for a good reason. When you get there, and come up the stairs of the underground parking lot to the open green space above, it is a thrill to realize that this is the Boston Common. It has always been public land for the citizens to use together. When it was first settled, it was used for grazing livestock. It was also used as a place to give rabble-rousing speeches against the tyranny of the King, and the British soldiers camped there before they marched up to Lexington and Concord to that first battle of the Revolutionary War. It almost makes you shiver a little to stand there.

It is also the site of one of my favorite children's books. How many times did you read Make Way for Ducklings?  Well, Robert McCloskey wrote that book because of an incident that took place at Boston Common, so it is appropriate that they have this bronze statue group here.

The bronze is kept nice and shiny by all the little children who can't resist sitting on the ducks. Or if they can resist, their parents place them on the ducks for the cutest pictures you've ever seen.

After we admired the ducks, we found the visitor's center and started on The Freedom Trail. There are actually bricks placed in the sidewalk (and paint over the pavement) that you can follow and take a walking tour of Boston to all the iconic spots of historical significance. Several of those places are churches. In some, there were famous speeches given, historic acts planned (Boston Tea Party) and in one, the movement for the abolition of slavery in the United States was introduced and promoted.

Here's another monument that, if you've seen the movie Glory,  then you need no explanation. This illustration is familiar and iconic. If you haven't seen this movie, then you simply must watch it.

A Civil War reenactor guy hangs out there daily, so I asked them to pose together for a cool shot. (Yes, he accepts tips.) This honors the 54th Massachusetts Regiment, which was formed entirely of African-American soldiers. It was the first of its kind and many were skeptical. So, you should read about it, and see the movie and then you'll know about this heroic group of men and their leaders.

One highlight of the trail is the wharf where the oldest commissioned Navy warship is tied up. Yes, this ship is still in active duty and is manned by sailors who get chosen during boot camp. Apparently, every few months, someone will show up and ask for voluneers to do a tour of duty aboard Old Ironsides. My sailor said they didn't come during his boot camp experience, or he'd have voluneered in a minute. George Washington was the president when this ship was built. He named it.

 It is a very large ship with rows of cannons along each side, so they can shoot off twenty two cannonballs from each side. There are also guns on the deck, so it can carry fifty weapons.

These are really big cannons. They defeated the HMS Guerriere in the War of 1812, to the shock of the Royal Navy. They had been the biggets, baddest for a long time. The USS Constitution had gone against the Barbary Pirates and defeated them, too, when the Commander in Chief was Thomas Jefferson.

Due to its status as a commissioned vessel, as we got to the end of the tour, and were departing the ship, the Sailor turned, snapped to attention, and gave a salute to those Stars and Stripes waving in the left side of the photo. It was so cool. It was the perfect end of my day walking through history.

Some time, I hope you get a chance to go to Boston and walk The Freedom Trail. I taught fourth graders about these events for several years as part of our social studies curriculum. But, it was a serious thrill for me to walk around and see the Old North Church, the plaque in the sidewalk marking the site of the Boston Massacre, and the home of Paul Revere. It would be a great Independence Day vacation. Happy Fourth of July!

They Need A Copy Editor

Yesterday, I heard an ad on the radio as I was driving around town. The announcer said, "You don't want to have an accident in your bathroom! Call [our company] for an estimate to install safety bars or a whole new room."  They went on and on about the walk-in tubs designs, and other great features.

But all I could think was:  IF I'M IN THE BATHROOM, IT ISN'T AN ACCIDENT.

Checked It Off My List

Many people have a list of things they'd like to do or see at some point in their life, and I do, too. Last week, I accomplished one of them. I circumnavigated Rhode Island! Now, some definitions of that term reference traveling on water. However, it generally means to "travel all the way around" a location. So, actually I did both. I did travel all the way around Little Rhody, and I did travel over water quite often.

As you can see, it is a very watery state. Another of its official nicknames is The Ocean State, and as one drives around, it's very evident that this is an apt choice. I started in Mystic, CT, just next door, and drove on Highway 1 along the southern edge of the state. Suddenly, in the middle of a town, it became Rhode Island. I stopped to chronicle this event, and also send a photo to CoolGuy so I could share my groovy trip.

 

Rhode Island is not only small, but it is old, being one of the original Thirteen colonies. In fact, I think it was #3, because it was founded as a place of refuge by Roger Williams for people who were exiled by the Puritans from Massachusetts in 1636 over religious differences. Someone was always unhappy with someone else when you study history.

It is a place of old placards and historical markers, and really old, very beautiful historic buildings. The first thing I did was go to the ocean. I love the ocean! It was a gorgeous June day, hot as the blazes for the East Coast, and the beach is the best place. It was packed. It was also private. I just pretended I was a local (hah! Not dressed in beach clothes! But, I was just looking...not staying.) Then I got some lunch, and got back onto the highway to keep driving east.

This looked like a fine place to chow down. It was delicious, too. I was waited on by a 13 year old boy, whose mom was back in the kitchen stuffing lobster into rolls for the customers. I chose the over-stuffed version--hey! When in lobstah land, you should chow down.  I didn't get any chowda, however.

And,  yes, it was super yummy.

So, pretty much Rhode Island is all about water and trees. Like many places in the east, you don't really get "scenery" as  you travel along. You just see trees. There are houses along the small road that I was driving on, so I saw houses, little stores, some schools. It was small town RI. Many signs directed you to turn here for this park or that beach, or this resort or that bed and breakfast. But, again, like Maryland, most of the coast is privately owned. California was my norm, with the coast mostly public land, and all the beaches open and free. Not the east coast.

Then, I got far enough east that I was on the edge of the Narragansett Bay and a huge bridge loomed ahead. If  you refer to the map, you'll see a medium sized island (St. James) that is in the middle of the lower part of the state. The bridge connects you to this island, then you drive across that island, take another enormous and beautiful bridge to a bigger island with the city of Newport and then cross again to the mainland to go north. 

Everything was breathtakingly beautiful. The blue, blue water, the greeness of the islands as you travel over the high bridges. There are stunning mansions in Newport. There are sailboats dotting the bays. Everything was just gorgeous. I know they have wicked winter weather, but June is just fantastic.  

My biggest reason for wanting to take this crazy tour was just that Rhode Island is so small. I've told my students here in Nevada, that the whole state could fit into the valley where Las Vegas is. So, I just had a craving to drive all the way around it, one day. CoolGuy refers to "driving across Texas, one day for a week" and so I wanted to drive around Rhode Island, one afternoon. It took about 3 hours. And it took three hours, because most of the roads I traveled on have a 35 MPH speed limit. Really: RI:  1544 sq.miles.  Las Vegas valley: 1600 sq.miles. Clark County is 8091 sq. miles. How could I resist??

 So, I've done it. I guess I can focus on something else now. Hmmm...Four Corners monument?

Some of My Grandchildren Are Cats

Meet Leroy. He lives in Baltimore, Maryland. He is the King of KittyCats in his world. Actually, he has a Tumblr page called "Leroy Everyday" that you can go to and admire him, daily. I do. He's a totally awesome cat who is the mascot of my son's recording studio. He is beloved by many, including me.

Being Grandma

The reason I moved to Nevada seven years ago, was to be closer to most of my extended family. That included, at the time, two grandchildren. Now, there are four of them, and I drive up the interstate to visit them as often as I can. After spending a week trying to get ahead on my class assignments, I made one of those trips to spend some time with the buddies. I had several agendas.

First, it's summer, so we wanted to do some adventures for which summer vacation is designed. We met up at the Bingham Canyon Copper Mine in the Salt Lake Valley. It's the biggest open-pit copper mine in the world. And it is awesome, I'll tell you. It is a really, really big mine. You feel a little dizzy when you look over the fence, down into the mine. Also, they have some enormous trucks there. The littlest one (2 years old) LOVED the trucks! She was thrilled and would have just spent her whole morning leaning over the fence pointing at the trucks.

 

However, she wasn't so excited to be near the big tires that those big trucks use. They have one of the tires as a photo-op in front of the visitor's center, and she was quite reluctant to stand near it for grandma to take a picture. Plus, her brother, 6 years old, just loves to be silly whenever asked to pose for a photo. So with her squealing, "Nooooo, no big tire!" and brother laughing maniacally and hiding, it is amazing I got this shot! (Actually, I offered to pay him 25 cents to use in the binocular-thingy if he'd stand there...) (It worked for both of us!)

Big Sister calmed down Little Sister and we got several cute "posed" shots before Brother decided to rush off again! That's Cousin in front of the big tire with the others.

We had a fun day. Then we went to a restaurant to use up my gift card given by a grateful student to me on the last day of school.

After that...I got to attend a minor league baseball game with the Cousin, also known as 1st Grandchild. What a gorgeous night! The beautiful mountains, the clear blue twilight sky, green grass, fun times!!  After the game, we went down and sat on the infield and watched a terrific fireworks show and then---even more fun---any child who wanted to, could go line up and run the bases! We went home and flopped into bed!

The next afternoon, I went back to their house to accomplish my second reason for the visit. I videotaped 1st Grandchild being the "bad example" for my school project. The assignment was to make a movie that could be used for a public service ad about some type of educational issue. So, I planned to make a little video entitled, "How to Raise a Reader."  My grandson, who reads above grade-level in two languages (Spanish and English) was willing to be the bad example: playing on the computer, the DS, the iPad, and his Wii. I strung it all together in the segment, "What NOT to do."  But, ultimately, he was the star in the finale as the Reading Boy, too.

I also taped the other three in various examples of great things to do so your kids will love reading and then I drove back to Nevada and spent a day with the movie-maker program on my computer and made a really spiffy film. I uploaded it  to the professor, washed my laundry and flew off to Maryland the next morning.

(And, sorry, I tried to  load up the video and it wouldn't go...trust me, it's wonderful--I got all the points for it.)

And: in case you're wondering: here are my suggestions:

1) Read to your babies and toddlers, everyday!

2) Provide lots of books in your home. (library books are free...)

3) Motivating experiences encourage reading. (ie: library summer reading clubs, school contests, magazine subscriptions in their name)

4) Don't allow unlimited screen time (all the screens--computer, DS, TV, PS3, etc.)

5) Read, read, read---even if you don't read English; read to your children in whatever language you speak, because reading skills transfer.





I've Been Everywhere, Man

When I wrote the blog on June 9th, and it was titled, "The End," I didn't really mean it to be the end of my blog. It's just a coincidence that I got really, really busy and didn't write any blogs. I enrolled in my final three elective credits for the master's degree I almost have completed (!!!) and it was an on-line class. That was both scary and, ultimately, convenient.

 A couple of months ago, I bought a plane ticket to go visit my two sons who live on the east coast. Knowing I would be enrolling in a class during the four week June semester, I planned the trip for a longish weekend and was just going to throw myself on the mercy of the instructor so that I'd be able to make up the work for the couple of classes I'd be missing. However, the class I chose turned out to be conducted entirely on-line. So the rule was--turn things in early if you want. Well, I've been focusing on doing just that. I read my articles, I wrote my responses, I prepared my projects. I turned in everything I could, so that while I was traveling, I wouldn't need to be trying to get computer access to keep up.

But the projects were elaborate! The class is Technology Applications for Elementary Curriculum. I've been making power point lessons, newsletters with hyperlinks, a digital photo-book that tells a story about tech in my life, and a movie. We had to make a public-service digital announcement about some education topic. So, my brainstorm was to video my (brilliant) grandchildren as the actors in a suggestion to parents for "How to Raise a Reader." That required a trip to visit them. Oh, what a sacrifice...

So, every day since school finished, I've been glued to the computer. Then, I went up to Utah to visit the little buddies for a few days. We did some fun things together and I spent some time filming my movie scenes. I came on back to Vegas and labored diligently to get my movie edited and snipped and clipped and organized. (Hey, it turns out that it is easy-peasy with the computer programs I downloaded.) I rushed around, washing my laundry from the first trip, tweaking the movie, then I up-loaded my work, packed my clean clothes,  and flew off to Maryland.

I just got home this afternoon from a breathless trip. And, I've been everywhere, man...  Actually, I went to Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts---all in six days. Whew. So, this week, I'll try and take some time to tell you of my road trip.

The End

It's the end of another school year, at least. It's an important ceremony for the students to stack the desks on top of each other and pile up the chairs. Then, of course, they always want to know if they can lie on the floor! Sure...go ahead...it's filthy, but go ahead!

I started a new tradition when I first came to Las Vegas. My original school had 100% "free or reduced-price lunch" students. Many of them ate most of their meals at school, and several students were given backpacks filled with food, (like individual servings of pork and beans or granola bars) to go home for the weekend through a program sponsored by a charity.  So, when the last day of school approached, I realized that, because we dismissed before lunch, a few of my students might not get any lunch at home that day. I know, I know...feeding  your kid seems to be a basic function of parenthood. But, seriously, some of our parents weren't into basic functions sometimes. Sigh.

Anyway...we'd also read a story earlier in the year about a runaway pancake, and I discovered that some of my students had never eaten pancakes. Now, before you roll your eyes too far, realize that it was simply a cultural thing: if your Mami made you a delicious Mexican breakfast each morning, you weren't missing pancakes. So, I decided to get two birds with one meal by feeding my class pancakes on the last day of school. Plus, it would fill the hours between 9:00 and noon in a fun way. 

We had the pancake breakfast. I brought in my griddle and cooked pancakes till even my hungriest gordo was filled to the brim. It was a huge success! We had fun, I knew no one was going home to an empty house with an empty stomach, and everyone loved Mrs. [EarthSignMama] for feeding them! I've been making pancakes on the last day of school ever since.

In my new school, it was a bit more complicated. I taught the entire fourth grade----usually 100 + students. But, we cycled them in and out of my room, and the aide helped with pouring the milk and I used two griddles, and it still worked. The other teachers played games with them in their rooms. Last year and this year, a new partner volunteered to feed two of the classes, and I'd feed two, so that is even more awesome and we had an even more fabulous fun time. Seriously, we can never stop this tradition. I have kids who ask on the first day in the fall if we're going to have pancakes on the last day...their older brother or sister was also in our school and everyone knows about the pancakes.

So, we had our pancakes, we played Heads-up Seven-up, we stacked our desks, we passed out report cards, we all hugged and said good-bye. Then, the kids went home and the teachers ate a lovely lunch our principal had ordered in from a local Mexican restaurant (which makes the best enchiladas in the world). Then, we went to our classrooms and ---no! We didn't clean up and go home that afternoon! We'd decided a couple of weeks prior that, instead, we'd have a planning time.

It sounded like such a good idea at the time. We usually hold a "retreat" with this school. When we had more money, we'd rent the clubhouse of a local golf-course and meet there on a Saturday near the end of school. We were fed breakfast and lunch, and we'd spend the time going over what worked and what didn't work from the previous year. Then we'd plan the next year and develop a theme for for teacher training. Really, it was very beneficial and is a big reason I love this school. We're truly on the same page here. I've worked in schools where there were little cliques, or where the administration was in an adversarial position in relation to the staff. But our school---we're in this together. The upper grades collaborate regularly with the lower grades so that we're not working against each other. We help each other across grade levels. We identify kids early so that we can keep track of their progress all the way through. We keep data so we know what works and what isn't so effective. I love working here.

But, this year...we're broke. We had a little staff training money left over, so we agreed that we'd spend the afternoon on the last day of students doing our collaborative planning in our grade levels. When we were officially off the clock at 3:45, we'd be paid from our last bit of staff development funding from 3:45 to 7:45 P.M. Then, we could go home, come back on our last official workday on Friday to clean and pack up our rooms prior to check-out for the year.  About 5:00 P.M. fourth grade hit the wall. So we went over to Sonic and got some tall slushy fruit drinks and came back to keep on trucking.

But! It was great!! We started using the new Common Core State Standards this year, and they were confusing to most of us. So this gave us a chance to look them over, and figure out how we were going to teach them and how to help each other. Since we're departmentalized, it is trickier. We don't have a science and social teacher, so we have to integrate it into our other subjects. I use information they read in their Nevada state books in reading class for writing prompts and I make up language and grammar lessons using that text, too. Then, the students are using the same information several times and it helps to develop vocabulary and teach them about their state and country. We're so good. We planned some Science Fridays, too. They'll read and write about it during the week, we'll do the labs on Friday, and then reflect and read and write some more another day. I'm actually really pumped for next year! I don't have to think about school at all this summer now, because we spent the time and we're organized. Whew.

I'll close with my favorite shirt from the last day of school. I laughed so hard when I saw one of the fifth graders wearing this. I insisted that he stop by my room first, so I could take this photo. It's a perfect sentiment for the Last Day of School:

  

Size 12

You know, after all those months of hobbling around with one messed up foot and then another, and then spending all that time lying on the couch (both times) convalescing, I've gained a few pounds. Blah. I am appalled to know that the last time I weighed this much, I gave birth the next day. That child is now 27 years old, so I can't blame it on post-partum-ness. In fact, I lost all the baby weight and was svelt and slim with no effort until I hit about 41. Then, if I wanted to be slim and trim, I could still do it, but it involved gym memberships and bicycling and lots of work.

What is different now, after living the life of a cripple, is that I'm not merely overweight, but it is all flab and I also have NO stamina---zero, zilch, nada. I walk upstairs at my school to get my students every morning and I'm panting by the time I reach the door. I simply have no get up and go. I know that one loses conditioning much faster than it can be regained. I also realize that it is harder to be energetic and go-go-go when one is still walking very carefully. I really do think about my steps. It is too easy to limp or shuffle along and favor one foot or the other. But when I conciously think about walking heel, toe, put the foot down, lift it up, do it the right way, then, I have a more comfortable pace and I feel the benefit to my leg muscles, back and abs. But, I'm slower than I used to be. CoolGuy likes that. In the past, he'd often urge me to remember that I didn't need to use "teacher walk" when we were out together. He sometimes has to wait for me, lately.

But--in reference to the title of this post...I tried on some new jeans capris in the store tonight. Typically, I wear size 12 jeans. I'm apparently shaped differently than many woman. Size 14 droops off my hips and looks baggy in the derriere. But the waist fits. Size 12 fits like I prefer around the fanny and thighs, but I usually unfasten the button and just pull the zipper up tightly. This spring, however, I pulled out my jeans capris from the drawer--pants I've worn for several years. I got them pulled up over the hips and found that I can't even get the zipper edges to meet, let alone the button! There's no way I can close the zipper...Well, tonight, I tried on some "size 12" and they're very comfy. They're a stretchy model, but even the button closes. Hmmm...I like the way they fit and look---no droopy bagging anywhere. But, size 12?? Seriously?? Are clothing manufacturers fudging it a little bit lately? Actually, I don't care if they are. I like the pants; they fit; I'll take them. If I'm "size 12" ---well, then, I guess I'm size 12. Yeah...riiiigght

Jury Duty

Sorry it's been so long between posts. There are only four and a half days of school left, and that makes every day after school, busy and very valuable---plus people keep scheduling things and I end up getting home really late. Sooo...

We went to visit our grandson for his birthday over Memorial Day weekend, but had to get back to Las Vegas on Monday evening because, of course, it was school the next day. I had an extra little wrinkle, too, it turned out. I'd been issued a summons for jury duty in January that would have required me to appear the day before my scheduled foot surgery. I begged off, citing the pending surgery, but mostly because I didn't want to be out of school any more days than necessary at that point. I had things to do and things to get ready and, even though they'd have given me a pass, I would still have had to show up that day at the courthouse. So, my new jury date was Tuesday, May 29th, and---sure enough---when I called the phone number to see whose badge numbers were being called in, I was on that list.

I drove downtown to the parking garage they'd designated (in the Fremont Center experience) and parked. Then, I hiked the three (huge) blocks to the courthouse to see a line of people that went out the door, down the steps, around the corner and then half way down the next block. We had to go through an airport-like screening procedure. I don't blame them---two years ago, a disgruntled man came to the federal courthouse a couple of blocks south of the county court building. He had hidden a shotgun under his coat, and he just walked in without saying a word, and began shooting. It was crazy!! A security guard was killed, another was wounded, with the gunman himself being killed nearby, as he attempted to run away. So, there is no question that security procedures at Las Vegas courthouses are not academic.

But, I was dismayed to see that there would be a long wait to get inside the building. I hoped they wouldn't be too pesky about my being late for my designated arrival time. However, my little concerns about jury duty were eclipsed by the young woman standing in line behind me. She had a deadline, too--an appearance at 8:00 A.M. in a court--as the defendant. She complained to all around her about the length of the line. She smoked a cigarette. She complained some more. She smoked another cigarette. The line moved steadily, but it was such a long line, that we weren't going to get in that door before the top of the hour. As we were moving up the granite steps, edging ever closer to the door, she got on the phone to someone. It wasn't clear who. It could have been a lawyer. The woman pointed out that she WAS there! She was in line! It was a &%$## long line!! Did she miss her appearance?? OMG!!! How can she have a warrant already?? She was TRYING to be there!! She was stuck in this *&^%*$ line!! OMG!!

Just then, I saw another person with a jury summons in their hand walk through the glass door marked "Staff, Attorneys" so I went up the steps and entered there too. I still had to walk through all the metal detectors, removing my shoes, putting my watch and purse, etc. in the little bin to go through the X-ray machine. But, I didn't have to listen to the distressed rantings of the woman whose life had just gone from bad to worse.

As I stood in the line, I realized that I live a sheltered existence. In my line of work---school teaching--I am rarely in the presence of people who smoke. There are very few people with visible tattoos (except at the end of the day when I supervise the crosswalk and various family members come to pick up their children). And I rarely hear profanity. But, as you observe the variety of people entering the county courthouse, there were some patterns. People are either quite professionally dressed: business suits, with the women wearing heels and deliberately coifed hair, or the people are dressed very casually in commonly seen motifs (sagger pants, wife-beater shirts for guys, and skin tight jeggings, snug, cleavage revealing shirts for the ladies) with an abundance of visible tattoos,  and lots of nervous smoking. Lots. Oh, and conversations using words that will get you recess detention in fourth grade. There were a few scattered folks who were somewhere in between: not dressy, but not quite as casual---most of us clutched a jury summons.

I didn't get chosen for a jury. That's good, because I really didn't want to miss more days of school. I was hoping that I could plead that I really needed to be in my classroom, if I'd had to make a case for it, but, since I wasn't chosen, I just left at the end of the day and I don't have to worry about it for another eighteen months. I  would really like to serve as a juror sometime. I think it would be very interesting. CoolGuy served once in California, in a robbery case. Any other time I've been summoned for jury duty, I had preschool children, and that excused me from having to appear. Someday, I'll get called up again. I'll hope it doesn't happen during the last week of school and then I'll get a chance to stay there and immerse myself in a whole new world.