My Fan

I went to a training meeting after school on Thursday. At one point in the evening, we were instructed to regroup at our tables into teams that would mix up the disciplines of the subjects we were hired to teach as professional trainers. Then we were going to use the laptops there to do the next activity.

As we waited for everyone to get settled and turn on the computers, my partner to the left of me introduced herself and asked my name. She then said, "I know you from somewhere..." We exchanged current teaching assignments, past teaching assignments, possible training classes we'd attended together. She was sure she knew me. She inquired that perhaps I'd been here or there with her. No, it was pretty clear we'd never been enrolled in any professional development classes together, nor taught in the same building. I assured her that I had "one of those faces" and fairly often I met folks who thought they knew me, but it turned out I just looked like someone else they knew. No, she was still perplexed--she knew my voice--I was just so familiar.

Finally, I laughed, and said, "Well, I was on t.v. last fall. Maybe that's it!" And she stared at me and said, "The Millionaire show??" ....Yes...Well, it turns out that she had just watched me in re-runs last week. She didn't usually watch it, but as it came on, the announcer said it was a teacher from Las Vegas and so she sat and watched it to see if she knew her. "Yeah, you called your daughter for help, right?" ....Yes.... She went on to say I had been so sweet as a contestant and she really thought it was so cool that I'd won a bunch of money. And then she could relax and enjoy the rest of the meeting because she DID know me from SOMEWHERE and she finally knew where.

I live in Bizarro Land.

It's All in the Timing

Today, the fourth day of the new school year, was long. It is the fourth day in a row of intense, focused teachering, and then at lunchtime I found my lunchbox (under my desk) was filled with ants who'd invaded the plastic wrap of my sandwiches. All I had left to eat was a plastic container of watermelon that they had been unable to penetrate. ARRRRGGHHH!!! So, I sprayed all over the floor under my desk with some stuff from the custodian, and I guess I'll have to put my lunch on top of my file cabinet from now on.

Immediately after school, I rushed down to a school office building where, as a new member of the Social Studies Professional Development team, I attended a two hour (paid) meeting to learn about my new part-time job.

Then, I stopped by the city library to find an appropriate video to show tomorrow to the fourth graders about the solar system so we can fill the final hour of Friday. This hour will be filled on all future Fridays with fun activities when our "Electives" are fully organized by our counselor. But, tomorrow...

So, I arrived home hungry about 7:20 P.M. (after leaving home at 7:40 A.M.) to find Cool Guy just parking his motorcycle. He'd been out for a ride. I pulled into the open garage, shut off my car, and rolled down the window. I looked at him and said, "So, where's my supper? I'm starving!"

He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, and replied, "Right here, Sweetie." Then he opened up the right saddle bag lid, and lifted out a container of ribs, some baked beans and coleslaw!!! He'd just come back from picking it up.

Yes, my jaw dropped, I shouted a loud hurrah, and went in the house to get some napkins.

Wow. You couldn't have planned that one.

Manna Shoes

Yes, we've discussed my pathetic feet several times in this forum. They tend to dominate my thoughts now that school is starting again---tomorrow is the Big Day. I spent so much of last year in pain because of the combination of the flat feet, pronation, tendon strain, joint misalignment that can only be corrected by lying down all the time.

No, really, I have diligently worked on the PT exercises to strengthen my muscles to realign my hip and leg and foot so that I do not over-extend the whole thing with my weird foot problems. And I bought new shoes (that really do help) and I've had a summer off from the constant standing. I even got extra drugs to really knock back the inflammation. So, I'm starting out the year with non-sore feet and a non-sore leg. Crossing my fingers, doing my exercises.

Well, I decided I wanted to have some new shoes. White sandals, specifically. I felt hopeful that between all the stores they have here in the Shopping Mecca of the West I would be able to find a pair of white sandals that would also be supportive and reasonable to wear to school. I drove to my first choice to look, and I found a parking space in the shade, exactly across from the door! So far, so good. Then, I walked into Dillards, and as I entered the shoe department, it was like a little ray of light descended on the shoe display on the wall and there was a pair of white sandals, the brand I've found that keep my feet aligned the right way! And they had my size. And they were on sale!! So, therefore, I am referring to them as the "manna shoes" because they were there right where I needed them, right when I needed them and so they are a blessing.

Covenants

I gave a talk today in church. I was asked to use this talk as my source material. It was about the power of covenants and I learned a couple of things I want to share. First, when you look up covenants in the Bible dictionary, it points out that we don't enter into covenants with God as equals--it's not like we make some deal with God. He sets out the terms, we accept or not. But He has an excellent record for keeping His side of the agreement. We are guaranteed results for our puny efforts. Another thing I liked was reviewing the etymology of the word endowment. We refer to the temple covenants as the endowment. It is a perfect term because endowment refers to a gift that generates income. (Like a rich alumnus endows a college chair for a professor.) Well, when we keep our side of the agreement, we certainly do experience incoming blessings.

Three of the strengthening effects Elder Christofferson spoke of were being strengthened by 1)gifts and blessings, 2)with increased faith, and 3)with the "power of Godliness". We get blessings every day through keeping our promises we make at baptism to be like Jesus. Who isn't blessed by trying to be honest, or kind, or by trying to do good to others? And more literal blessings like the health effects when we abstain from harmful substances and behaviors? Also, I was impressed by the concept that I have experienced in my own life: when you exercise a little faith, you are blessed by God with power, and His spirit which expresses His love for us, and His pleasure that we are willing to obey Him. This enlarges our souls, gives us confidence to use faith again, thereby enabling us to feel His love and joy. It's a cycle.

Plus: it isn't anonymous. These important covenants are done personally, individually, by name. Think about it---we are referred to by name when we make these covenants at baptism and in the temple. It is personal--just us and our Father in Heaven agreeing to something, and He always keeps His promises. He never lies.

Finally, the last thing that was so powerful to me is that the number one covenant that God has made with us is that, if we believe in His Son, Jesus Christ, and try to live His teachings, we will have eternal life. He sends us the Holy Ghost to be with us always to give us strength to do hard things, power to overcome temptation, knowledge of how to speak up for Him, and the ability to feel God's love.

I learned a lot preparing for this talk. I'm sure it is all information I've heard before, but something about trying to distill another's words into a form that one can explain to others is always so educational. I hope you learn something, too, reading this.

Vacation

Well, in two weeks it's back to school for the teachers. I've definitely gotten my summer's worth this year! I've been on five different trips away from home--whew. And some of them were strictly for fun, too. In the past I've felt like summer was when I got my "real life" back: I didn't have to get up and leave home and go to a job every day. I could stay in my own home, sew, clean, cook, take care of my kids, do service for others--all the things I did for the 18 years before I became an employee.

This year, something changed, however. Maybe it is because I've been an employee for almost as long as I was a mom at home; this will be my 15th year as a teacher. Maybe it's because I don't have kids at home--this year is the first time someone didn't come and live with us for any part of the summer. (sigh...) But this year I really felt like I was just "on vacation". That perhaps my "real life" is the life of a school teacher, and I was having a break.

Of course, it could also be that because I was enrolled in a college class all of June, and spent any time not reading, writing and studying for that, in preparation for our family reunion, that I didn't actually experience any time "off." Then in July, I traveled here and there and everywhere... So I've been vacationing during this Summer Vacation.

This week and next, I have no official duties for work, so I have a list. I've checked off parts of it too: go exercise every day; rotate the tires; move all the furniture and scrub the tile floors; organize the pictures and artifacts I brought home from the reunion. I'll go into my school next week for a day or two because I need to unpack my stuff in my new room (natural lighting!!!). But, even that will be okay, because I won't be on the clock yet. I'll still be ON VACATION.

A Daughter of Neptune

As you can read on the title page of my blog, I have an affinity for California. I've lived in two different counties there, San Diego and Ventura, and both of them have very moderate weather. By "moderate" I mean fabulous, consistently fabulous. It is neither hot nor cold most of the year. It is simply nice. Well, I spent last week in Ventura county, camping at the beach, enjoying the company of those of our children and grandchildren who could get there, too. And, once again, I found myself wondering why I don't live there still. There are several reasons, none of which I will go into here. I'm not sorry we moved each time we did; there were compelling reasons. Now, California is in terrible condition, governmentally and fiscally, and despite a drop in home prices, has outrageous real estate costs. And yet, it remains my number one favorite place to live. So, someday I will return there. My well-worn line to CoolGuy is..."I'd live in a tipi on the beach, if I had an internet hookup." We did have a tipi, a kid-sized one we recently purchased, and we did have internet when CoolGuy turned on his computer, and it was good.

The ocean is what draws me back there. The campground is on the east side of the Pacific Coast Highway. There is a trail under the highway for access the beach. The campsites are all shaded with large trees, there are real toilets and hot showers (you turn on the timed water heater with coins), we had a fire ring so we could have a campfire each night. This isn't roughing it. Plus, we'd rented a motorhome for the week, and it allowed me to cook on a gas range and use a refrigerator, and in the middle of the night, I could use the bathroom without needing shoes and a flashlight. It was awesome. The ocean is very rough there, so we didn't swim, but the kids played in the sand building towering structures and we walked along the shore, and enjoyed the sights and sounds. You could hear the surf all day, and the seagulls calling. (At the campground an enormous flock of wild parrots--orignially from escaped pets--would descend on us each morning and scream and holler as they ate the berries from the many varieties of trees. They were a little annoying.) But seagulls are a great sound. Along that shoreline we had always seen plenty of dolphins and we were not disappointed on this trip. Everyday there were two or three pods of at least six swimming just offshore, fishing and frolicking. I love to watch pelicans as they skim just above the surface of the water, adjusting their height as the waves surge up and down beneath their outstretched wings. Occasionally you get to see one as it spirals down from a higher flight and dives with precision straight into the water to fill up its bill with fish. The beach is the only place I go without anything to read. I just love to watch the ocean and the wildlife that it supports.

I took the boogie board one afternoon and drove north to a more swimable beach. Everyone else was satisfied to walk down the trail and build sand castles and nap. But I'd had a little taste of the surf the day before and was craving the full immersion experience. Yes, the ocean water off southern California is cold, has lots of seaweed and other random plants and animals. Yes, sharks live there. But I love the chilly, salty, living reality of it. I waded in gradually, letting my body get accustomed to the coolness. I had the board strapped to my wrist, and finally got up my nerve to lay on it and paddle out to the breakers. I got drenched, pounded, soaked and blinded by the first wave. The next I rode all the way in, and then I just paddled out and floated on them, letting it roll under me and leave me there, while I laid on the board and felt at home. I love the ocean. I love swimming in the ocean. I could have stayed there all day. Except that I've become such a weakling this winter that soon my arms were quivering with the effort it takes to hang onto the boogie board and keep upright and on top of the waves. I realized that I need to really get serious about getting back in shape if for no other reason than the ocean requires you to be tough. Plus, if I ever want to go to Surf Diva school, I can't be a wimp.

Some day, I'll be back to stay. I'll go to the ocean everyday. I'll surf, I'll swim, I'll just sit on the seawall and watch it. But, I'll be there. I'll be the one with the long gray braid, wearing sandals, and sunglasses, with the boogie board, looking at the waves and smiling.

La Vida Loca

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.

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.

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.

The 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.

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...

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.