Steamy Beef Hand

You ever wonder where some band names come from. I think this could be a good one. It started as I prepared one of my fabulous dinners (okay – took the ingredients out of the ziploc freezer bag and followed the directions from Dinner by the Dozen) —beef and broccoli. As I was browning my hamburger in a large pot the steam was bouncing off my stirring hand. I walked into the other room where the dogs became very interested in that hand.

mmmmm, steamy beef hand, I said aloud.

And a new band name was born. Now where did I put my drumsticks...

ICE CREAM MAN!!!!

Wow - just barely past 55 degrees out there and the ice cream man is out... (on a Friday at 1pm - although I think it is Spring Break for the neigborhood kids). There's still a patch of snow in the yard but summer must be just around the corner...

Not sure about him - it's a cute truck but things aren't the same today as they were when I was a kid.

Really want a [edited] bomb pop now...

The Klutz's Guide to Neighborhood Watch

The other morning my neighbor from across the street rang the doorbell. It was about 10 am and since it wasn't yet noon, I was still in my pjs and a sweatshirt (one of the perks of working from home office). I opened the door expecting him to hand me a package as the UPS guy is always delivering my stuff to him across the street.

Al: Are you okay?
Me: I'm fine, how are you?
[Al looks a bit confused.]

Al: Well I thought I'd just check on you since you were banging on the window...
[Now I look confused... scanning back through my previous 10 minutes...]

I realize that I had been banging on the window trying to get the squirrel out of the bird feeder. The squirrel completely ignored me, didn't even flinch. Al, across the street, who I was completely unaware of standing by his mailbox , heard me. I explain this to Al, who chuckles and moves on with his day.

I'm pretty sure the neighbors already think I am nuts ... but nice that they're keeping an eye on me none the less!

Birthdays, life, death and random thoughts in between

"...The important thing is not to be bitter over life's disappointments. Learn to let go of the past. And recognize that everyday won't be sunny. And when you find yourself in the darkness of despair, remember ... it's only in the black of night you can see the stars. And those stars lead you back home. So don't be afraid to make mistakes, to stumble, fall. Because most of the time, the greatest rewards will come from doing the things that scare you the most. Maybe you'll get everything you wished for. Maybe you'll get more than you ever could have imagined. Who knows where life will take you. The road is long and in the end, the journey is the destination." - Coach Whitey Durham (Barry Corbin) in One Tree Hill

I quietly turned 36 the other day. I didn’t mean for it to be quiet – I’d much prefer fanfare and celebration. But it seems you pass “a certain age” and birthdays get lost in the rigamarole of everyday.

With the passing of each birthday, thoughts turn to life. Am I where I wanted to be at this age? Where is it that I wanted to be? What is the meaning of life? 42 ... well, in this case, 36. It seems around my birthday, I am more aware of the fact life changes so much. Just when you think you might be in a pattern or a rut, if you step back, you'll feel the wind on your face as the world spins around you.

My grandmother is 77 – a fact that she brings up a lot lately. Perhaps it is a way to justify the whirlwind of changes she has just made. She moved from her house of 20-plus years into a stylish new place. It’s not assisted living, or a retirement building. It’s actually a pretty coo loft. But it is about one-quarter the size of her house – much more manageable for a 77 year old, albeit a fairly healthy one. She also sold the family cabin, as you may have read in previous posts. She's made these changes sort of as a way of getting her affairs together. Not that she is going anywhere. But she is 77, she will remind you this if you mention anything.

As I was contemplating the “when” of having a child, not the if, I suddenly was gripped with a fear that I might not be around for grandchildren. Then I realized that it is foolish to think that way. You really can't plan for anything in life. It doesn't work out that way. I am definitely a planner. My husband is a fly-by-the-seat-of-the pants-er. He’s been calling me type A lately. He’s right. He’s a B. So we complement each other by sometimes meeting in between. So I end up putting in place the financials, the schedules, the what-ifs, and he provides the why-nots, the let’s-gos, and the better-now-than-laters. Sometimes we flip when I suggest we run off to Paris next weekend and he reminds me we have to pay taxes.

Back to life’s changes. My mother’s brother is in the late stages of prostate cancer. He is in Salem, Oregon. I haven’t seen him in 20 years but have kept in touch on and off by email. I’d like to visit him but am having trouble getting the where-with-all to do so. True the cheaper fares are two weeks out. But life is so busy. There's a loan closing, a book club meeting, work, class to teach, taxes to do, dogs to board. All that can be rescheduled and taken care of pretty easily. I’m afraid to book a trip and end up being too late, but at the same time, afraid not to give it a chance.

On the other end of the spectrum, my sister is bringing new life into the world – due in September. For most people this is a joyous event and something I hope to do myself in the near future. But my sister wears blinders. She really flies-by-the-seat-of-her-pants. She’s a good person but just not a planner like her older sister. Her son has just turned 15. He’s a good kid but medicated and has a host of disorders defined by letters. This is mostly genetic. My sister herself is bipolar.

Her choice to get pregnant was that it was finally time, and she was in a good financial place. But she chose not to notice that she is just barely financially stable and that she really can’t stand her husband, who has a host of things going on himself. In order to get pregnant, she went off the medication to treat her disease. Then through a series of unfortunate events, lost her job.

I will admit this has affected my choices to become pregnant. Since there’s so much going on there, it’s hard for me to do the same and be happy about it, or for the rest of the family to be happy about it. I’ve always been my sister’s keeper. As I love her dearly, at the same time I am tired. It’s also very hard on the rest of the family – three other sisters and our parents. My mom is a worrier and has the blood pressure to prove it. One other sister has been going through her own changes in life – most recently health issues. Thankfully it turned out not to be Leukemia, as was a possibility, but instead good old-fashioned mono. She mirrors her big sister in work hours – too many of them!

The last thing about my birthday is that each March brings a reminder of an old friend’s birthday – exactly two weeks before mine. His mother and mine were good friends before we were around. There are pictures of us as babies, toddlers and young kids. I moved to a different town in third grade and didn't see him as often after that. His mom still came to Bridge night but he typically stayed at home. When I was 17, he took his own life. I had a great deal of teen angst and often wondered if I could just give up. I could never have gone through it. In reality, I just needed a good vacation. I often wonder what happened for him to be at a point in his life to do this. There was speculation of many things: that a former teacher of his was accused of molesting students and he might have been involved. Or possibly he had received a lower grade than expected (I believe he had a 4.0 GPA and was already accepted to School of Mines as a high school junior). Or that he simply had a shortcircuit in his body chemestry. There were no other indications, no signs.

Several years later, his mother succumbed to cancer that slowly took over her whole body. She was a wonderful person. No one deserves to lose a child this way and then lose her own life to such a horrid disease, but she deserved it the least. I think of her daughter and her husband left behind. I don't think my mother is in touch anymore but I hope that their lives are really good to them now.

The quote at the beginning of this post struck a chord with all these thoughts swirling around in my head. It’s a WB show about teen angst but the script writer has it spot on. And it doesn’t hurt hearing it spoken in the deep Texas voice of one of my favorite actors.

Life is a journey. You might as well eat cheetos in the car, take lots of pictures along the way, and maybe have a birthday party or two at McDonalds.

It's March 18 - do you know where your snow shovel is?

It's that time of year and we're about due for a biggie. The setup is right - rain due to start this afternoon, turning to snow overnight. Okay mother nature - what's the plan?

Tuft-butt season

In many parts of the country, the Groundhog may signal the coming of Spring. Here, it’s big tufts of white and brown fur everywhere. Yup, it’s tuft-butt season when our brown dog/German Shepherd mix Sarah-dog blows her coat. She has gorgeous fur - a marble of red, brown, white, tan. The birds love it too, lining the nest with her brushing piles from the yard. The cats are not so fond of it —especially when I give them little dog hair wigs. Now there's a picture for "Stuff on my cat." BA HA HA HA! [Yes, they will smother me in my sleep...]

George Clooney and dreams

And now, on a lighter note... (I do have several blogs started but not finished - damn work ... damn taxes ... damn life).

I need to start writing down my dreams. This morning I dreamed I was watching a movie at someone's house and George Clooney slipped some drugs into my drink or food. It was speed but in the dream I was a slug. I decided I needed to walk it off and Jason Alexander was there. He was helping me and saying that was really uncool of George.

??!

I sometimes try to figure out where this comes from and if there is a message. In the past I have had dreams that are foretelling things to come. Years ago I dreamt my biological Dad had died but all I got was a phone call and wasn't able to find out where he was, only that I needed to come deal with it. In the real world, the next day he called me to tell me he was getting married (to a very nice woman and they've been married ten years). I also had a very vivid apocalyptic dream on Sept. 9, 2001.

Anyway, back to George Clooney, whom I sure is a very nice guy. The drugs are probably because I have new glasses and am getting used to them (prescription changed slightly, not to mention that they actually sit in the right place on my face, which I am not used to). They do make me a little dizzy. Mr. Clooney was on the Oscars the other night. Jason Alexander was in a movie I watched over the weekend. Still don't know what it all means but it's funny to see how the brain works.

This is how a heart breaks

Have you ever felt so incredibly sad - like someone punched you in the gut? You fight to breath normally. The skin around your eyes stings from salt in your tears. This is my Saturday -- a beautiful, warm sunny blue-sky Colorado day. The hubbie and I went to the cabin to clear out the things we left for future visits. I took some pictures to remember everything about the place.

And I cried. A lot.

I recall crying like this only a couple of times in my life. Once it was at my Grandpa's funeral. I feel like he has died again. My heart races, my breath squeezed out of me. I have to say goodbye to this place and it's so incredibly hard.

On my final way out the door, I grab a wooden sign with the family name on it. There's four of these - one inside, one hanging outside by the driveway, and two at the dirt road intersections leading up to the place. This is the one I can bear to remove. Taking one of the others down is too painful. I will save this sign for the day when we can get our own place like this.

The air is crisp. The sun warm on my wet cheeks. The stiff breeze musically wind through the pine trees.

This is how a heart breaks.

It's gone

There are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. I think I’ll save some time and hit them all at once.

The family cabin is gone. Grandma rushed ahead and put it up for sale, even after the hubbie and I offered to take it over. It was gone in a day for more than what she asked for and definitely more than what we could have afforded. She’s never seemed to me to be someone so concerned about money and certainly didn’t need to be.

We are upset that we weren’t part of the discussion. I know I am not alone in this. My parents weren’t even in on the decision. My dad’s name is on the trust. He had to sign papers for the sale against his choice. This was supposed to be for all of us.

I know I am an incredibly sentimental person. This was one of the last places where my grandpa was still around. My grandparents bought the place in 1993. He died from cancer in 1995. The time in between, he spent hours rebuilding the place, making it a year-round family retreat. My grandpa’s spirit is there.

Now it’s sold.

Maybe it was better I didn’t know this when we were there before Valentine’s Day. I would have just been sad and not enjoyed the serenity, the peacefulness. There are things we have to pick up that we left there for our future visits. I will probably run up this weekend just to get it done with. The longer I wait, the harder it will be.

Acceptance is the light at the end of the tunnel. But in the meantime, I have four tough steps to get through.

You say Turin, I say Torino

I had Olympic aspirations. I was the roller skate queen of Arapahoe drive. Decked out in torn knee jeans and giant fuzzy bell pom-poms, I faithly hit my blacktop driveway whenever it was clear of snow. I skated my heart out to Abba's "The Winner Takes It All" or Neil Diamond's "America". I got my inspiration from ice skaters. Hey, I can do that triple twirl, toe-picking sowcow (not likely spelled that way and having nothing to do with farm animals). I flung myself into the air believing I was achieving that exact step. Nevermind my toe pick was actually a bright red stopper and my blades were actually wheels.

I was going for the gold.

Unfortunately, roller skating never became an Olympic sport. Eventually the white roller skates wore out. The fluffy pompoms disappeared. Abba and Neil Diamond were replaced with New Wave. Time on the blacktop turned into time somewhere else.

As I tune into the 2006 Winter Olympics, I watch the ice skaters and know somewhere inside the roller queen skates on.

Wobbly bits

I think that phrase may have come from “Bridget Jones Diary.” It’s been wobbling around in my head lately. For almost a year, I've been obsessed with my wobbly bits – more so then the usual. In March 2006, I was diagnosed with high-blood pressure, pre-diabetes, and poly-cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). I weighed in at my all time high of 235 pounds. I had joint pain and fatigue. I was winded walking across the campus where I teach. I don't know how it happened but gradually since college I had been moving less and eating not too bad, but not too good either. Coupled with the PCOS, which causes the weight gain, blood pressure, and blood sugar issues, I was losing the battle of the bulge.

Tired of feeling tired, I knew I needed to do something. I walked into a nearby commercial diet center and said, "what do I have to do to get started." The answer: a really, really strict diet, and a good chunk of money. In fact, it’s a paid version of an eating disorder. Okay, maybe that’s too harsh. But the program has a single sheet of paper listing what I can eat and when. No fruit after 6pm. Beef, cottage cheese and canned tuna can only be eaten every other day (a day between each item). I picked the program because it was advertised that is allows "real food." Yes, it does. But it's a very short list of real food. In addition, you buy "nutritional supplements" to fill in the gaps of the very short list. That’s where a lot of the program cost lies.

The program also doesn’t include exercise. It’s okay -- but they warn you it might slow your weight loss. (??!) This is true as muscle weighs more than fat. However, my goal wasn’t to just drop 90 pounds, it was also to be in better shape over all. So I also signed up with a personal trainer class at the rec center that is three blocks from my house.

At the time I started the diet program, I also started taking Metformin (a diabetes medicine) to treat the PCOS. The idea was to get to four pills a day, which was supposed to completely reverse the condition. My body really argued about the meds. I think much of my initial weight loss was more from the side effects of the meds, then the diet itself. I also went through Costco-sized bottles of pepto-bismol. I never could get past two pills in a day and finally ditched them mid-September. Some of the other treatments for the disease include diet and exercise. So I decided to stick to that route.

I lost about 50 lbs so far but hit that weight in October. Since then I have fluctuated a couple of pounds up and down but have really stayed in one place. This has been particularly frustrating. The diet center's answer is to take more of their pill supplements. Right now I take a multi-vitamin but draw the line at all the other stuff. I have similar reactions to supplements as I do to the Metformin.

One of the good things about this plan is that it is balanced. It doesn’t throw out entire food groups. I argue some are pretty limited but it has protein/starch/fruit/veggies. But I’ve also grown tired of the limited, bleak list of food and occasionally have added a few things in here and there. I know this has slowed down the weight loss but this is real life. I have learned about portions and calories. In fact, most of my “cheats” are things most people wouldn’t consider being a diet cheat. Carrots, for example, aren't allowed. Neither are bananas. Yes, these things will be "allowed" back when I hit the maintenance phase. But they have too much sugar for now. I also eat an occasional Hershey's kiss. Like I said, this is real life.

I’ve also recognized that stress plays a big part in your weight. A very busy life leads to food on the run and cooking what is easy. For me, that was refrigerated tortellini pasta. But I would eat the whole box myself with butter. Granted that was dinner after a day of maybe eggs and one other item. I wasn’t eating enough and what I was eating was storing itself and contributing to my insulin issues. It was comfort food - calming in the storm. I’ve learned that I can eat this stuff – but in balance and in portions. There's also other ways of calming stress.

Slowing down and eating away from the computer or TV has also helped. I have a hard time sitting and eating without doing something else. But watching a netflix blockbuster, I could eat a whole Chipotle burrito without noticing and then wonder why I felt like I was going to burst. Luckliy, I’ve discovered another obsession of mine (Sudoku) is something that slows me down. It works my brain and lets me eat slower. When you eat slower, you recognize when you are full. It also helps you enjoy the food more. Sometimes just a couple of bites of something you love can satisfy you just as much as eating the whole thing.

Cravings have been strange though. Last summer I craved Cheetos (the crunchy kind). This isn’t something I normally ate but I was obsessed with “cheatos”. If someone had a bag of them, I was a goner. Now I really crave one of those cheesy bites pizzas. They say cravings mean that you are missing something needed in your diet. I don’t think I am missing pepperoni but perhaps the calcium in the cheese. My diet doesn’t allow much dairy – 4 oz milk a day and 5 oz cottage cheese three times a week.

I work at home which has been both good and bad for the diet. It’s been good because I am not tempted by donuts/bagels/birthday cake and other goodies brought in by coworkers. I can make my meals fresh. The bad is that the kitchen is just down the hall from my office. I have to be sure not to have anything bad on hand.

Working at home, I keep the TV on the Travel Channel or HGTV. I see a lot of weight loss commercials. The common theme is “find the real you.” The real yous of all these folks are size sixes. I started at a size 20/22 and thought that 16 sounded pretty good. I wanted to be a size that I could walk into any store I liked and find something that fit. I wanted to fit into a "Large" so I could pick up cheap deals at Costco. I am now a size 14 ... petite. Ends up the round butt kept normal length pants and skirts higher off the ground. It's funny being considered petite but still being about 30-40 pounds of where I should be on the charts.

So while I am frustrated I’ve not lost the 90 pounds originally planned by the diet center, I have to look at the fact that I have lost 50 pounds. My blood pressure and blood sugar are back to a healthy normal. I can run around, even at 14,000 feet, and be able to breath, without my heart beating out of my chest. I can find things that fit on the clearance rack at Target and on the tables at Costco, as well as all my favorite stores.

I still have some wobbly bits. I started Jazzercise classes again (after a six year hiatus following my traumatic divorce). I would like to smooth out some of those bits (like my “belly butt” that appears with lower waist pants) but have decided that curves are pretty cool. I didn't lose the boobs, although now they’re a little lower without my belly holding them up.

I will continue the program as planned. At the same time, I will try to lighten up on myself. It's not a failure since I've accomplished all the goals but the actual number on the scale. And that’s a pretty cool thing.

Bridge over troubled water

Found this while randomly surfing blogs:

http://www.thisdayinmusic.com/member/birthdayno1.php

The number one song when I was born was Simon & Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water." (Okay ... water ... I am a pisces. Does this has some deeper meaning??)

When I turned 18, it was Rick Astley "Never Gonna Give You Up."

Somehow I always thought my life's theme song would be the theme from Fame.

The groundhog and the power of two

Man, that groundhog wasn’t kidding. Every February 2, when the little rodent sees his shadow, I think Duh! There are six more weeks of winter no matter how you look at it. Spring starts on March 20, 2006, at precisely 1:26 P.M. EST. That’s six weeks from February 2.

In my neck of the woods, this time of year is when the snow really starts to fall. The mountains have been walloped this year with tons of snow but down here in the front range, not so much. Our winter has been mostly wind. Lots and lots of wind. And some more wind. Did I mention the wind?

Saturday we had snow and some record low cold. It's -2 as I get ready for my 10:30 Jazzercise class. On goes my athletic socks, yoga pants and tank top. Then a warm up shirt that has long sleeves with thumb holes in the end. I top that off with a pair of sweat pants and wool socks. I add a fleece jacket. When it gets this cold, you start wearing two of everything: two gloves, two coats, two pants ... two nostrils frozen together.

When I am all bundled up to go, I feel like the “Christmas Story” kid. I also know why Minnesotans say “Uff Da.” It’s the sound you inadvertently make when you try to move around in this cold weather body armor.

Later as I am bundled into my cozy little house, I watch the cats lick the ice on the insides of the windows. I wonder if their tongues will get stuck to the metal. It’s “two” dang cold. Yet I know in a couple of months, it will be too dang hot.

Fun with Kennel Cough, plastic splinters, and large quantities of dish soap

I should just give up. I will never have a normal, easy life. Whenever I take some time off, something happens (usually some kind of damage to my house while I am away). We took a quiet weekend away for the two of us. Sarah-dog and Flounder went to Camp Bow Wow. When I made the reservations a couple of weeks ago, they told me their Bordatella vaccine was due and that we should probably get it beforehand since they had some kennel cough going around.

So the pups headed to vet two weeks ago for their shot.

Well, it ends up getting a Bordatella shot is a little like a flu shot. It’s going to protect the pups but not 100%. Apparently this is a more aggressive strain at CBW. Both girls are coughing and snorting. Sarah-dog thinks she needs to go outside every time she coughs and then seconds later scratches to come back in. It's made for a not-so-productive work day.

So to vet we go. I’ve now got some $60 worth of antibiotics (which are the plain old nasty tasting capsule not a nice, easy to administer beef flavored pill) and another $80 for the vet to see the pups and tell me they likely have kennel cough. I talked them out of the $140 worth of “cough suppressant” instead picking up a $7 bottle of Robitussin DM (which is okay for the pups). (I like the vet that we see but I’m beginning to think it’s awfully pricey.) Except I forgot to get a syringe (like for babies). The pups aren’t going to drink the Robitussin out of the little cup. I picked up a baby medicine syringe. What expressions on their puppy faces when I shoot a teaspoon of Robitussin down their throats. Getting the antibiotic pills into Sarah is pretty easy – she’s pretty docile. Flounder, who normally will eat anything that flies in the air, is clamping her mouth shut and tried to bite my head off. Not a happy camper. I tried rolling the pill in bread.–First one went in. Then as I gave her the second, the first one flew back out of her mouth. %#&^#%!! The blasted pills are so big, they're hard to hide inside something.

The good news is that now they’ve gotten this, they should be more immune to it in the future.

But a warning to those of you out there that board or take your dogs to the dog park or doggie daycare, the shot doesn’t make them immune right away (and doesn’t make them 100% immune). And when the doggie daycare tells you that they're having some kennel cough problems, heed that as a warning and you should probably make other arrangements. At least be sure they are updated on their vaccine – apparently the nasal version kicks in quicker than the shot (which I didn’t know before). The shot can take a couple of weeks. The nasal mist – a couple of days.

So my big babies will now have to endure some quiet time to get over their doggie colds. And I get to play traffic cop everytime they go outside to keep them from kissing their boyfriends Drake and Moby.

Not sure my week could go much worse but the day also included fun with a dozen plastic splinters in my hand (from a plastic rope holding my hanging chair), and fun with a Costco-sized bottle of dishsoap that has a mysterious leak and left about an inch deep sludge of soap in my cabinet. It’s soap, so should be easy to rinse off, Right? Well, not in large quantities. There were so many bubbles that later when I went to bed, there were bubbles coming out of the downstairs toilet. Yeah, shades of Amityville Horror —but am thinking it’s more of the minor day-to-day terror of everyday life.

The art of doing nothing

The hubbie and I took off early on Friday for the mountains. My grandma owns a cabin in Estes Park, near the south entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park. It's an 800 sq.foot two bedroom, 1.5 bath cozy hideaway with a wrap around porch and spectacular views.

My grandparents bought the place in 1993. It was a summer cabin built around the 1920s. My grandpa, a talented woodworker, and many members of the family stripped the inside and rebuilt it to be a year-round place. There's a lot of hard work there. It’s more special because it was my grandpa's last major project before he died of cancer in 1995.

This was our second annual Valentine’s Day weekend at the cabin. We brought books, movies (and a newer VCR and DVD player to upgrade what was there) and Suduku puzzles. We spent almost the entire Saturday in PJs, taking a late day bath (in the clawfoot tub) to go out to dinner at the nearby Dunraven Inn.

The cabin is a place we’d love to bring our children – even grandchildren. It’s a peaceful place that I would love to go to every weekend. Why we haven’t gone more often ... well, we can’t bring the dogs since other folks are allergic, and while Camp Bow Wow isn’t over the top expensive, it still is an extra cost to send them to doggie camp for the weekend.

Then there is the everyday beat of a fast-paced life. Weekends around here aren’t really days off. I vowed for new year’s resolutions that I would not work weekends. Surprisingly that has stuck so far (much to the dismay of my project managers). Well, at least the not working on freelance work on the weekends. Instead, I've been doing many projects, visited my sister in Albuquerque (and helped paint her kitchen), and have been helping my grandma go through years and years of stuff as she moves from her 4000 sq foot home to a two-bedroom condo (a really cool condo but considerably smaller than the big old house).

The cabin is a place that we can catch our breath. There’s a telescope to check out local wildlife (really animals, not the neighbors) or the night’s sky. You can sit inside the big picture windows when it’s cold and just stare at the beautiful mountains in front of you. When it is warmer, you can sit outside on the wraparound porch. You can sleep for 11 hours or be up at the crack of dawn, sipping fresh brewed coffee and watching a flock of crows. You can smell the clean, crisp mountain air.

The art of doing nothing.

Now it is Monday and I am home and relaxed but only for a moment. Ends up our mountain haven, the special place my grandpa put so much work into, is going to be put up for sale in April. My grandma says she's too old (she's not) and no one else seems to find the time to go there. It's a beautiful place and too expensive for her to keep up.

The breath I caught over the weekend has been whisked away. The art of doing nothing has become the need to do something. I am angry at my family for letting this happen. I’m not angry at my grandma but angry at my parents, my aunts for not seeing this place for what it is. In the past couple of years, I couldn’t get up there because there were always folks there. I can understand and I don’t think she should be expected to cover the place herself. That's where the rest of us should be helping.

So now I am torn. There’s no way we can afford her asking price. I am considering seeing if she'll let us take over the maintenance and perhaps buy the place from her over the long term. We could conceivably go up there several times a month. She doesn't need the money - that is, she isn't desperate for it as her house will sell soon.

She won’t put it up for sale until April. Maybe that will give us time to come up with an offer or perhaps win the lottery.

Is it practical? I am a terribly sentimental person. Can it be done? Maybe.

Maybe I just need to accept it and go on. But I don’t think I can do that. But do I have a choice?

Doggie TV

[Note: it's a double bonus blog day. I am cleaning out my old laptop so I can return it to Dell and thought I would just finish this one and post it already.]

It’s a wonder I ever get any work done. It’s so amusing watching the pups play. Now that the fence is down on two sides of the yard, I have two additional players in the doggie theater.

Drake, the Rottie behind me, loves to play basketball with himself. He throws the ball in the air, passing it to himself, catches it and then noses it along the ground to the other end of the yard. Then he throws it in the air again and starts over. He’s a one-dog basketball game and he’s having a blast.

Moby, the yellow Lab next door likes to climb the hill in his yard and rest in the tall grass. I think he pretends he is a lion watching for prey. He often comes over and plays with the girls. He and Flounder will be on either end of a rope toy. They start out pulling in opposite directions but soon he will start butting up against her. Sarah-dog runs circles around them barking play-by-play reports.

In fact Sarah-dog doesn’t really play with anyone but her invisible friends. We like to call her rain dog. She runs very precise, identical circles, barking to herself in the same place. Sometimes she chases invisible squirrels.

Moby will egg her on to play and eventually she will but most of it involves trying to bite him in the nether regions. But he has a short term memory problem and will keep chasing after her to get her to play again.

I’m going to move my office into the bigger room soon. This will allow me even more long moments sipping coffee or tea and watching my doggie TV.
Work ... what work?

The stupids

Do you ever feel just socially off in public? Like the moment you leave the person you just encountered, he or she is thinking “what a doofus”? Too often that’s been my kind of day. Maybe it is because I need to get out more often? Maybe I need more human interaction in my day?

I started the day at the CPA’s. I couldn’t come up with simple words - like “W2.” My mouth opened and out came random words only starting with the first letter of the words I really intended. He must have thought I had brain damage.

After that I went to the bank. I think I tried to make a joke about the check and it went over like a barrel full of lead at Niagra Falls. Better not quit my day job.

The cashier at Safeway had a bell and a note sitting on the ledge that said “ring for service.” Dopey me. “Do I have to ring it if you are already here?” hee hee? Maybe she just didn’t have a sense of humor or just thought I was really dense. No, she said seriously, taking it away from me.

A friend who recently had a baby claimed pregnancy brain. I can’t claim that right now. Perhaps I just have “Brain Full” brain. I need a hard drive backup and archive. They say stress is the biggest cause of the stupids. I’ve got plenty of that. But perhaps it’s just my good ol’ ADD.

Hey look ... a chicken.

Where the hell did February come from?

Whoosh. January flew by. Of course it helped that I was out of town for the first part and the last part. Puxatawney Phil has seen his shadow and now for six more weeks of winter. For my neck of the woods, the snow part really only gets started this time of year. I am already seeing bulbs pop up in the gardens.

So a review on the “resolutions” thus far:

1. Travel more. -- a relaxing trip to Hawaii the beginning of year and a weekend in Albuquerque at the end of January. Check!

2. Related to that - get a passport already! - it’s in the mail, so in a month or so, it will be here. Check!

3. Go outside my comfort zone (got a hike along a cliff side 1,000 feet up scheduled in a week - there will be some sweaty palms but a gorgeous view and a 500 foot waterfall). The waterfall hike was fantastic and only really steep in some places and it was great. Plus I flew on a smaller commuter plan without hyperventilating in the small space. Check!

4. Lose some weight. Okay that one may be almost a cheat ‘cause I am already doing that but I’ll keep it up. Still losing (and grumbling). There’s many a blog entry here. Check!

5. Do the Bolder Boulder (which I’ve done before -- race walking but should go again now that I am actually in shape for it). Hmmm. Still thinking on this one. I ran through the airport last Friday because I was late and everything was backed up, except my plane leaving.

6. Play more fetch and take more walks with my babies. If the blasted weather (wind) would cooperate, this one will work a little better.

7. Try to be more patient and understanding of my husband who is on a completely different planet (yeah, him -- Mars, me -- Venus, I know, I know...). Packing six pairs of shorts for a week’s vacation may make sense on Mars (three are khaki green and three are khaki tan). Weird that he’s actually the one that overpacks ... I think this is part of the fun of marriage. He has many charming and positive things about him and I really enjoy his companionship. So this is a check!

8. Edit, edit, edit. Ebay, charity, craigslist ... boxes to the MIL ... I need breathing room. Hee hee. A funny thing happened on the way to less stuff... Grandma is moving after almost 20 years in her 4,000 sq. ft. house to a two bedroom condo. I can’t throw anything out. So while some of it is just temporarily resting at my house before it moves on, I do seem to be moving in the opposite direction. Still working on this one.

9. More projects around the house. We may be here awhile so might as well keep it from falling down! And get rid of the remaining white walls. Got more excited about this one after visiting my sister in Albuquerque and painting her kitchen. Plus decided to change my office to a bigger, airier room. Lots of plans in my head and as soon as I am actually home on a weekend, then the projects will begin.

10. Add another human to my family. We’ll see.

11. Have more days off - at least one *whole* weekend a month. Funny, so far my “off” weekends have been not working at work stuff but doing a lot of packing at Gram’s and painting at Sara’s house, as well as a bunch of other fun social events. But not much actual down time. Still it’s better to get away from this ol’ computer.

12. Learn to better schedule my time (as much as I can with crazy clients and crazy project managers). Still working on this one. So far, it seems I am just scheduling more time into less...

13. Change my hairstyle (since my sisters accused me of having the same on from third grade -- they apparently forgot the long bangs, shaved head, purple hair, blue tail eras of my locks.) This is kind of a cheat - I had my hair cut two days ago and it is definitely different. Check!

14. Organize. Everything. See #9.

15. Write more often. There are children’s books in my head involving my pets’ escapades and my sister Annie’s big box of colored pencils. There are article ideas. There’s this blog. There’s a lot to say. Working on it...

And now on to February...

Kona Hawaii 2006

Ah, Hawaii. After the crazy holidays and before our crazy new semester/quarters and major upcoming projects, we took a quick Winter break to the Big Island of Hawaii.

We arrived in Kona mid-afternoon, picked up our car and headed down Ali’i drive to the Outrigger Keauhou. It’s a nice little hotel, right on Kahalu’u Beach Park. The lobby is fantastic, has a great bar right on the water overlooking tide pools full of turtles. One of the best places to catch a sunset with a Mai Tai. The rooms are a little dated but are being updated. The place was built in 1970 but more recently bought by Outrigger. The walls also are a little thin. We were between a family with small children and an older lady hard of hearing with a loud TV. Luckily we didn’t hear them too much. I would stay there again but probably in a more “off time” (the Fall) and would request an upper level end unit. We had gotten a free “upgrade” for a partial ocean view - which looked out over the Kahalu’u Beach Park and the ocean. That was worth it.

Our first full day, we gathered up the beach gear and headed next door to the Kahalu’u Beach Park, only to find it blocked off. Apparently over New Year’s weekend, there was really high surf that pounded the area and had broken a pipe and some sidewalks. We went up to the north end of the beach and found a place to watch the surfers. The surf was still rough for very good snorkeling but we did take a dip. Mostly watched the sea and did nothing.

In the afternoon, we headed to Buns in the Sun, the best deli in town for lunch. We boarded a van with Blake from Mauna Kea Summit Adventures to head up to the top of Mauna Kea for a sunset and some stars. Mauna Kea (“white mountain” in Hawaiian, due to the frequent snow on top) technically is the tallest mountain on planet earth. It rises all the way from the sea floor. From the island at sea level, it rises 13,792 feet. It is the second of five volcanos that make up the big island. It is dormant, last erupting about 3,500 years ago. Mauna Loa (“long mountain”) is the world’s largest mountain. It was very cold and very, very windy at the top of Mauna Kea but beautiful. We got to see a really cool shadow of the mountain on the clouds to the east. I've never seen something like that before.

We went to the visitor’s center at about 9,000 feet for a box dinner (Teriyaki Chicken that was pretty good), then ascended up the road to the summit. We wandered amongst the many observatories bundled in arctic parkas against the frigid wind and watched a fantastic sunset that included a really cool shadow of the mountain on the clouds over the east side of the island and ocean. Then we retreated to the warmer, less windy 9,000 feet for an astronomy show and some hot chocolate. We had some really great telescopes and our guides pointed out star constellations, planets, nebulas, galaxies and a wandering old Russian rocket booster (space junk). At Hawaii’s latitude, you can see both the north star and the southern cross, however the cross wasn’t up yet when we were there (was due up at 4 am). But pretty cool, none the less.

The next day after an extra cup of Kona joe, we headed up north of Kona to the Kohala coast beaches. The first one we went to, 'Anaeho'omalu Bay, is supposed to be gorgeous. However due to the same high surf from a few days before, crews had created sand berms to protect the property (Outrigger Waikaloa), which made it tough to hang out and watch the water, much less get in it. So we hopped back in the car and headed up to Kauna'oa Beach near the Mauna Kea resort. This was a fantastic beach - one of the best ever (listed as so by Conde Nast magazine). We found a secluded shaded corner and spent most of the day there lounging about, reading and swimming in the water.

This is the prime time of year for humpback whale sightings, although there are all kinds of whales near Hawaii year round. The Humpbacks winter in Hawaii, give birth and raise the youngins. Then they head back north to Alaska for the summer around March/April. We took a whale watch boat with a primo guide, Captain Dan McSweeney, who has a permit to get up close. We found several. I took horrible picture because I was so excited to see them, kept forgetting to click the shutter. (Plus I was kind of in stupid mode due to the Dramamine I took "in case." Duuude, it's a whale....). It was really cool seeing them so close. Dan knows a lot of information, as a whale researcher for more than 25 years.

Our Kahalu’u beach park opened back up so we spent some time snorkeling there. I brought out my camera in the underwater case and got a ton of great pictures. There are many sea turtles, as well as a ton of fish. Close to the shore there’s a fresh water leak which makes it a little murky but that’s also where most people stay. The park is surrounded by an underwater rock wall that helps protect it so you can go out pretty far. Which we did.

A trip to Kona wouldn’t be complete without a coffee drive. It’s a bit like visiting wineries in Napa Valley. You drive along, taste samples, tour the farm and buy up lots of pure Kona Joe. We planned for this by only packing half our suitcases, plus adding an extra duffle bag. We filled up all the extra crevices with coffee, coffee, coffee. Yum. The views from the coffee road is gorgeous. I could live up there (although it is on the third volcano on the island and one that is still mildly active, Hualalai).

I ventured out of my comfort zone for a valley hike in Pololu Valley (with Hawaii Forest & Trail). It really was worth it. It’s up high on the valley wall so is advertised not for those “extremely fearful” of heights. But the trail was wide in most places and the vegetation was thick so we weren’t looking straight down the whole time (just in a couple of places). The highlight was the 500 foot Kapaloa Falls that you get to walk behind. The trail is from building the Kohala Ditch system (which has an interesting adventure for a future trip). The ditch was built to gather water from this very wet side of the island and flow it to the drier side around the corner for sugar processing. The sugar companies are long gone and the ditch really isn’t used. But the trail is a great, easy hike with gorgeous scenery. Our guide, Denny was a lot of fun and had some great info on the way to the spot, which includes about 15 minutes four-wheel driving. (My teeth are still rattling.)

We visited two National Parks while we were there - Pu`uhonua o Honaunau and Kaloko-Honokohau. Pu`uhonua o Honaunau is the place of refuge where early Hawaiians who had broken rules could go and do certain things to be pardoned of their crimes. Part of this area was still roped off from the high surf. We were there at the end of the day and the light coming through the palm trees was really cool. Kaloko-Honokohau is a new one that we didn’t explore very much but got some information on. It’s earmarked for future trips too.

We spent several sunsets at Huggos on the Rocks, our favorite Mai Tai spot for sunsets. We also had beer and lunch at another favorite, the Kona Brewing Company. We also ate at Bubba Gump’s one night, which is a tourist madhouse and very fried! It’s fun but definitely not an award winning culinary experience. We had a wonderful dinner after our Valley hike at Merriman’s Market Cafe in Waikoloa (King’s Shops) where a very talented guitarist singer covered a wide variety of songs (and made Mark long to start a band again).

We had lunch at an excellent place on our last day, Daniel Thiebaut’s in Waimea. We missed it the last time through that area, coming through after lunch hours and before dinner. This time we just made the cutoff before lunch closed. It was fantastic! I had a tuna salad that was beyond anything I can describe, and we split a piece of kona coffee cheesecake.

Our last day we spent time driving around the north part visiting the Kohala bookstore and some of the galleries in Hawi and Kapa’au. On the way back to the airport, we stopped along the highway to watch the sunset. It was very quiet and one of the best sunsets of the week.

This trip, we did not visit Kilauea, the active volcano on the island. It’s a long drive from Kona and we wanted mostly to rest and relax. We’ve visited there before and will add it again on future trips (with a night or two stay in Volcano Village).

The best books for traveling to Hawaii are the “revealed” series. They are well written, have great maps and a lot of tips on things. I have copies for Maui, the Big Island, and for Kauai, which we haven’t visited yet but hope to soon - maybe in the Fall this year. There’s one more for Oahu that I haven’t gotten yet.

Many people ask me how we manage to go to Hawaii so often. We spend less on other things and also find a lot of deals. This time we booked an airfare, hotel and car package on United Vacations. It also included breakfast every day and a little package of goodies (t-shirts, tote bag, coupons and a CD of island music. I’ve signed up for email on sales and specials from many travel sites - Hawaii.com, Cheap Tickets, Expedia, various airlines, Site 59 and more.

The Travel Gremlin

Okay. Lately, something weird happens whenever both my husband and I travel somewhere together. Something on our property gets broken.

The first time was in March while we were getting married in Maui. We arrived home to find that the trash truck ran down our fence out front. It’s just a little split rail thing but it irked me they left without saying anything. The obvious green paint and marks matching the size of the large green bucket in the front of the truck. After several months, they finally replaced it.

In October, we went to Seattle for work/play. Arriving home, we found the plastic bubble over the front basement window smashed in. We couldn’t find who or what did it. It was probably one of the neighborhood cats or raccoons. There were no footprints around it so I know it wasn’t a human. We wanted to replace it with a nice metal one at some point anyway.

So just got back from our latest trip to find the UPS guy has smashed the glass in our new front door trying to deliver a package in the high wind. Our housesitter had called so we knew about it before we came home. He must have let go in a gust and it smashed into the wall opposite the door. Again, no note. But he left the package. Now I am trying to get someone to come “look at it” so we can get the process rolling. Which better be soon since we can’t get in and out the front door right now (there’s still glass everywhere).

So not sure what’s up with this. It has to be some sort of travel gremlin. I even joked with my housesitter as we left that I wondered what would be busted on my house this time...

Sigh.

2006 Resolutions

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.

Hey look at that -- it’s 2006 already! ‘Spose I should make some new year’s resolutions. (I know -- how original!)

1. Travel more. (Leaving on a jet plane tomorrow, in fact).
2. Related to that - get a passport already!
3. Go outside my comfort zone (got a hike along a cliff side 1,000 feet up scheduled in a week - there will be some sweaty palms but a gorgeous view and a 500 foot waterfall).
4. Lose some weight. Okay that one may be almost a cheat ‘cause I am already doing that but I’ll keep it up.
5. Do the Bolder Boulder (which I’ve done before -- race walking but should go again now that I am actually in shape for it).
6. Play more fetch and take more walks with my babies.
7. Try to be more patient and understanding of my husband who is on a completely different planet (yeah, him -- Mars, me -- Venus, I know, I know...). Packing six pairs of shorts for a week’s vacation may make sense on Mars (three are khaki green and three are khaki tan). Weird that he’s actually the one that overpacks ...
8. Edit, edit, edit. Ebay, charity, craigslist ... boxes to the MIL ... I need breathing room.
9. More projects around the house. We may be here awhile so might as well keep it from falling down! And get rid of the remaining white walls.
10. Add another human to my family.
11. Have more days off - at least one *whole* weekend a month.
12. Learn to better schedule my time (as much as I can with crazy clients and crazy project managers).
13. Change my hairstyle (since my sisters accused me of having the same on from third grade -- they apparently forgot the long bangs, shaved head, purple hair, blue tail eras of my locks.) This is kind of a cheat - I had my hair cut two days ago and it is definitely different.
14. Organize. Everything.
15. Write more often. There are children’s books in my head involving my pets’ escapades and my sister Annie’s big box of colored pencils. There are article ideas. There’s this blog. There’s a lot to say.

And with that -- Happy new year!

Time, time, time

Someone remarked the other day something along the lines of she doesn’t have time to blog because she works/has a family/has a life. I think it was accusing me of not having/doing that. I beg to differ! I work twice as much as most people. That is the life of a freelancer. It allows me more flexibility in the long run - such as putting my thoughts in to a dozen or so half-finished Word files in a folder on my laptop called “Blogs”. It also allows me to spend a lot of time with my family who happens to be all furry and four-legged but sometimes require the same attention as a herd of 4-year-olds.

Whether or not I have a life is up for discussion. Somedays I think my arms are permanently connected to the computer keyboard. Many of my conversations are in meow or bark. But I do get out from time to time, so haven’t become the old cat/dog lady just yet.

Do I have time really to do anything? No. Not really. So I fit in what I like first, then do the have-to’s second.

Speaking of time ... better get back to work!

If it is bad for you, eat or drink it faster

I was at a holiday party the other night where someone had brought Absinthe (yes, the real thing). I tried a sip and it was the most antiseptic thing I had ever tasted. One of the fellow party-goers’ theory was the more bad (or bad-tasting) something is, the faster you should drink it. Of course, I went with an alternate theory - don’t drink it at all.

I’m applying the theory -- slightly modified -- to holiday goodies. They’re not bad tasting but they are bad for me. So the theory is I’ll eat them faster. After all, once they are gone, then how can they be bad for me anymore!

A Barenaked good time...

One of my favorite bands was in town the other night -- the Barenaked Ladies. As usual the guys gave a great show but one of the best parts was before the show. We walked in the door and my sister nearly pulled my arm out of its socket. Standing in front of us was Tyler, the drummer. We got him to sign our tickets. The couple right before us had hugged him. My sister asked if she could hug him. He said, “well those were close friends. But I’ll shake your hand and look you right in the eye.”

We were all buzzy and I said, “I wonder if the other guys are around.” Then stopped right next to Steve. At this point, I remembered the great Barenaked for the Holidays santa hat I got from the fan club. So I had him sign that.

We ran into friend Nichelle who said Ed was back under the other stairs. On the way over, I caught Jim. Then I ducked under the stairs, realized there was a line I was not in, so started a conversation with the people at the front (like I was with them). A crew member came out and called Ed time for backstage. I asked if he could sign one more and he said, yes, walk with me.

The really nice guy I was talking to in line had a camera and I lamented not bringing my own. He said “quick, I’ll snap one and email it to you.” but there wasn’t time as Ed was leaving for the stage. But what a nice gesture. There still are cool people out there.

I missed Kevin but meeting four out of the five was awesome.

A group called the LeeVees opened the show - all Jewish and mostly songs about holiday food. They have the same quirky personality as BNL and put on a good opening act.

During the BNL show, Ed and the woman in front of me (who looked like Diane Keeton but maybe just a little younger) started this back and forth thing. She started acting like a teenage groupie (tongue-in-cheek). He threw a guitar pick at her (with remarkable accuracy). It bounced off my husband’s belly and fell at her feet. Then Ed mouthed “you’re so hot.” Then during one of the encores, he came out into the audience and stood in front of her while playing the guitar and she sort of fondled him (like a groupie).

After the show, I asked her, “so... uhm, do you know him?” She laughed and said, “well ... yeah.” But didn’t really offer much more info. She looked too old to be his wife (I am assuming his wife is close to his age), so must have been a good friend. All in all, the entire exchange was funny (not funny business, so Ed’s still okay in my book).

Just a *little* bit funny...

To my blog buddies at the show - you can get the recording here.

Happy holidays (and I mean all of them)

I’ve been getting a series of emails from some relatives (an older aunt, MIL, etc). The kind that are forwarded again and again. These particular ones are focused on what to say to other people at the holidays. They make me uncomfortable.

The most recent one was of a Christmas tree stating that it was a *Christmas* tree and not a Hanukkah bush or another symbol of a December holiday other than Christmas. (Okay, a Hanukkah bush?!). Well, duh. I can see it is a Christmas tree. The point they are trying to make is that they can @@$!$#^% say Merry Christmas to anyone they want.

Okay. Yes, it’s a free country. You can say what you want.

However ...

I say Happy Holidays to those I don’t know or don't know well enough but am trying to be polite. That covers everything for the person I am talking to -- Hanukkah, Kwaanza, Christmas, Festivus, even Happy New Year. Why should I assume that everyone is just like me and that Christmas is the only holiday this time of year. That’s like going to France and expecting everyone to speak English. Man, we Americans, especially Christian Americans are really self-centered (no, not eveyone but sometimes I wonder).

I think it’s my point of view from what I do for a living. I rarely work in English. I am fascinated by other languages, cultures, and the global market. I usually write ‘Thank You’ in the native language of the person I correspond with in email. You know, English isn’t even the most spoken language in the world. Mandarin Chinese is first, followed by Spanish (that’s got to chap some conservative hide). Then followed by English.

So if I know someone really well, I’ll wish them a happy whatever-it-is I know they celebrate. I even know how to write it out in a couple of languages (although pronouncing it aloud is a whole other thing). Chag Sameach. Joyeux Noel. Mele Kalikimaka. Feliz Navidad. Buon Natale. Happy Chriskwanzukkah to all. There, I think that covers it.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s my back fence ...

Ah, the joys of Colorado weather. You never know what you’re going to get. I recently made a comment that we are lucky we don’t get hurricanes. But instead we get cold hurricane force winds.

Monday morning started early - really early. Our beloved Labrador is really afraid of the wind and kept waking us up. About 5am, I heard a bizarre noise - like some of my wind chimes in my bedroom. I got up, put my sweatshirt, glasses and slippers on and went outside. I grabbed a few things that were wavering around and secured them down. Out front, I secured my lawn moose down better and grabbed the newspaper. It was really windy.

Well, that was just the wind-up. (get it? *wind*-up).

Once the sun came up, the gusts came harder. At the airport just north of me, they measured gusts of 92 mph. One of those gusts lifted a 45-foot section of my back fence about 10 feet into the air and then threw it 20 feet into the neighbor’s yard. Dang. We were going to get that replaced but thought it would hold to the Spring (since that section alone is about $1300!). My porch wall came apart too. Sigh.

Sarah-dog came out with me to survey the damage. The neighbor’s dog, Drake, a shy Rotweiller, poked his head out to see what was going on. He was very surprised when Sarah-Dog came over, kissed him on the nose (like “hey, howzit goin’”) and sniffed around his yard. His look was like Monk needing an antibacterial wipe. “Wha... hey, where’s the fence... hey, you’re in my space....” But Sarah-Dog being very socialized and familiar to him from sniffs through the fence, just went with the flow.

As the day went on, I tried to get him to talk to me and gave him a couple of biscuits. He was putty in my hands after two. I went back inside and noticed him periodically coming over and stealing the girls’ toys. Poor boy is out there 24/7 (yes, he’s out there in today’s below zero weather). His people seem nice but ignorant about him being out in the cold.

So now we have a little temporary fence up. I think when both girls out, they might gang up on him. We’ll ask Santa for a new fence. In the meantime, Drake the Rottie is getting a lot of extra attention. If only I could bring him in my house to warm up.

Cleaning out the closet

I’ve been meaning to get around to this the past 10 or so years. I just kept buying more hangers. But now the issue is nothing fits. Well, nothing seemed to fit six months ago (a little too small to way too small). Now most of my closet is way too big. I decided to start sorting through so I could get to what does fit right now.

Coldwater Creek is awesome. They take back things even after several years. It sounds like they take about anything back - worn, with or without receipts, but I think that’s pushing it. I do however have a lot of unworn things with receipts. I bought them on sale but either didn’t have an occasion to wear the item or it was just slightly too small. Since I lost way more than “a few” pounds, those are now too big. There are two boxes of these right now.

I also have some gently worn stuff from Coldwater Creek, JJill and some other name brands that I can post on ebay. Plus the stuff not worn that I can’t return due to time passed or no receipt. There’s three boxes of that so far.

A close friend has loaned me several pairs of 14-16 pants that have come in quite handy in the “transition” sizes. She is now embarking on her own weight loss plan so I have a very large box of recent clothes that she may be able to enjoy in her transition sizes.

As I’ve dug through the closet, I found several dresses I kept over the years that I can fit back into. While they are cute, they all seem to have either shoulder pads or empire waists (some have both). Empire waists make me look like a short Little House on the Prairie wannabe. So those and a bunch of other stuff make up five plus boxes going to charities.

Well, would you look at that, not one but TWO new pairs of Avia aerobics shoes. I also had wanted some Mary Jane style shoes, apparently I have bought 3 pairs now.

Now I should stress these are large moving boxes full of clothing. There are a ton of clothes here. I know they say if you haven’t worn it in a year, you should get rid of it. I agree and disagree on that. I have been quite happy to find some classic items (skirts, dresses, jeans) that I am glad I did keep as I am changing sizes. But perhaps I should keep a check on what’s in and what is still my style. Those cute shorts rompers from the 1990s may be back in style at some point, but really should not be worn past 30 years of age.

It’s easy to hoard clothes when you have a closet the size of a small room. But as a new year’s resolution, I promise to keep it more organized. Roy G. Biv and all. In the meantime, all these fantastic outfits, even the outdated ones, will make someone happy.

Did I mention the gazillion pieces of luggage? Boy I have a lot of baggage! Part of the hoarding comes from the fact I cannot throw out anything that can be reused or recycled. I must have been traumitized by films as a child showing landfills taking over the earth. Now that my little house is becoming smaller and I would like to make room for a new human or two, it’s time to deal with it.

A great web site with a list of recycling/donation places: http://www.officiency.com/recycling.html

Now I am going to try to get one of the local charities to come pick this stuff up!

Dear Santa...

Inspired by wish lists on my blog-buddies’ sites:

Dear Santa,
I think I’ve been pretty good this year.

After just hauling away several large boxes of clothes to charities, I could use some new clothes that fit. My favorite stores are Coldwater Creek, J Jill, Old Navy, GAP, Eddie Bauer, Lands End, Victoria’s Secret, and Target.

I would love so many music CDs, movies, and books so I have quite the long list at amazon.com (plus if you click through my web site, I also get a small portion to help cover my web fees). I’s also love a Dell MP3 player, as I like so many new songs, but not so many CDs.

I have wish lists (bridal registires) for the both of us on Crate & Barrel, Target, Bed, Bath, & Beyond, amazon.com, and the Home Depot.

The girls and boys can never have toys (and food). The cats would love a window birdfeeder.

Home Depot has a floor lamp with moose on it. It would be perfect for my home office moose room.

I also could use some new aerobics shoes and athletic tops. My shoes are from the late 90s (I took a lot of time off from Jazzercise but recently started up again). My tops are too big. OOPs. Scratch that. See the "cleaning the closet" post. Found two new pairs of Avias, as well as a bag of tops I apparently pulled out of my drawer more than six months ago (and thought would never fit again).

Since I can’t seem to get my four or five VCRs ever programmed correctly, I would love a DVR.

My creative siblings have it easy - I love their artwork.

That’s it. May everyone else’s holiday wishes come true!

Fishy follow up

Right after I posted my thoughts about the Aarone Thompson case, the Aurora chief of police held a press conference that confirmed a lot of my questions. How does a six-year-old girl just disappear?

Later that evening I answered one of my questions -- sort of -- while talking with a neighbor. There's a house on the corner, I affectionally call the Crack house. The people there, I am sure, are very nice but very, very reclusive. My neighbor Bridget's kids are friends with the corner kids but aren't allowed in the house. The shades are always drawn and most of the time looks like no one is home. We're not quite sure exactly how many people live there. The house was empty for about a year and then these folks seemed to move in in the middle of the night. So I can see how neighbors might not have known much about the Thompson family. My surprise in the conversation was that Alex's dad was going to help another neighbor move the hot tub. Alex is the little boy in the house but I've never seen dad so didn't know there was one. In fact, haven't really seen much of mom either.

However, the kids play outside and with neighbor kids. And I have talked to their adorable, although shy, five- or six-year-old. She's definitely there. The family may be reclusive but the kids all know each other.

Okay, this is just fishy...

One of the latest ongoing Denver news stories is of a missing girl, Aarone Thompson. Her father reported her missing on Nov. 14th. He said she ran off after an argument. After a few days, the police department received a tip that she actually has been missing for some time, perhaps dead. They changed their focus to look for a dead body.

Obviously in a case like this, there’s a lot not said. But I have some questions. Why is it that no one can vouch for seeing her in the last year to year in a half? She is six years old. Was she not enrolled in a school that has records of her being there? Does she not have playdates with friends whose parents can vouch for her? What about neighbors? The church? What have the other children in the house said?

According to the family spokesperson, Thompson told him Aaroné didn't enroll in school because her father couldn't get a copy of her Michigan immunization records. So she didn’t go to Sunday school or play with anyone outside the family? There seems to be an odd excuse for everything.

As for the neighbors, they were surprised to hear there were that many kids in the house. None of them were able to say they had ever seen Aarone. They also painted a picture of a reclusive family with a lot of domestic police calls.


The other kids in the family were interviewed. According to the news, those interviews further cemented that something had happened to Aarone some time ago. Another story explains why none of them said anything before now.


A week or so ago, the family held a news conference. They were represented by two grandfathers and a church minister. Both grandfathers pleaded with the public to continue to search for her. Ironically neither grandfather has seen her in the past year. One kept repeating the same incredibly annoying phrase over and over -- even when the question was not directed at him.

There have been reports that she didn’t have her own bed, that the family signed up for a Christmas charity list but her name was not included, that the family traveled to Disney World last year but she wasn’t included (okay, a side note... why would this family qualify for a charity toy donations, as well as low income housing, but can afford to take the whole gang to Disney World?).

The police department seems to be frustrated getting information out of the family. They also had a couple of missing children experts come in who came up with the same conclusions.

Generally there’s the idea of innocent until proven guilty. But when so many facts seem to be against them, you have to wonder. As for the family spokespeople, how are they so sure that the parents are innocent when none of them can vouch for seeing Aarone in the past year (and prove it).

So maybe the parents indeed did not kill her but maybe she’s been missing for much longer. Why report it now? Well, apparently there was a caseworker visit to the house for the family to continue to qualify for financial aid. That and Aarone’s birthday is today. Out of these two events, something came up and someone noticed she wasn’t around.

During the family press conferences with the minister and the grandfathers, someone brought up the Jon Benet Ramsey case. He seemed to imply that the Ramsey parents weren’t treated as suspects. Gee, what news were they watching? Perhaps the Ramseys cooperated with police better or just had better legal representation. But they were definitely considered suspects. That’s a whole other case.

As for the Thompson family, so far nothing seems to be proving their case. In fact, it appears one of the attorneys just quit. So it doesn’t bode well.

Happy birthday Aarone, whereever you are, I hope it’s a better place.

You had me at woof (and meow)

Lately I've been a little freaked out about my children aging faster than me. My beloved Flounder, a black lab, will be 8 years old the beginning of December. To me she's still that 10-pound roly-poly ball of fluff I brought home (only mysteriously 10 times bigger than that now!). Where does the time go.

She's a pretty healthy normal, somewhat gargantuan Labrador. However in the several months, there's been a lot more "garumpf" when she gets up from sleeping (a full time job), and less running around the backyard. I noticed she was getting very sore at doggie camp and tends to lay down more than sit. So we checked it out. Ol' Flound-dog is getting arthritic. Poor baby. We've put her on a new (and expensive!) drug Rimadyl.

Excuse me, is that a Labrador between your legs?
Yes, the old Flounder has returned. She's been back up on the bed, having an easier time getting up and down the stairs and more frolicking in the backyard. One of her favorite things is to come up behind me and pop her head between my legs, like some sort of clown act. And luckily we've found cheaper and reliable routes for the meds. I would do anything for the furries to make them happy and comfortable (well, short of a steak dinner every night).

Since I am a worrisome mom, I did a complete blood panel on the Flounder - part was required for the drug but also to get a baseline on how she is doing. Happy to say all parts are good and functioning. The part that makes gas is functioning exceptionally well.

Flounder is not my oldest though. My black cat Sebastian will be 14 this Spring. He's always been a curmedgeon but since the white cat Toby came into our lives (who I think will be 9), Sebastian has acted much younger than his age. Next trip to the vet though, he will also get a senior panel.

My fourth baby is Sarah-dog. Besides a bit of doggie autism and other mental issues, she's pretty healthy. She's also a mixed breed (German shepherd, which she takes very seriously, and something brown dog) which tend to be healthier and longer-living than purebreds. She's about 2 years younger than Flounder. She's my tattletale. I always know when a cat is someplace that he shouldn't be or that I've left Flounder outside, or a delivery is here, or that the house is being attached by squirrels. She'll let me know. Usually in a grab my arm/sleeve with her teeth "timmy-has-fallen-in-the-well" approach. She's also my worrier. She's very attached to Flounder. She likes to watch over her in the backyard and at doggy camp -- maybe a little too much for Flounder's taste. Her last report card from doggy camp said "likes to help supervise." Yup. That's my Sarah-dog.

Clean up on Aisle 9
I think my next baby will be human. In addition to all the normal reasons for having a baby, I think of my furry babies. Flounder loves babies and I know both dogs will thoroughly enjoy clean up around the high chair. My human children will be licked probably more than wet-wiped. Sebastian will probably be annoyed that there will yet another filthy vile creature in the house. He really wanted to be an only child. But I think Toby will enjoy a human baby (until the toddler years when both cats are likely to spend all their time hiding).

I cannot imagine my life without pets. I grew up allergic to everything with fur. I had a couple of dogs as a kid but they couldn't sleep in my room. I took two years of allergy shots specifically for pet dander before Sebastian came into my life. I had about six months of sniffling, sneezing and wheezing. Then became immune to the fur. Good thing. My house is now covered with it. When my first husband wanted a divorce, the first thing out of my mouth was "you're not taking the dog." The fourleggeds are priority in my life.

The girls (the dogs) are now outside barking their heads off at nothing (on the quiet neighbor's side of the house who must *love* them). The boys (the cats) are sitting on Mark's desk looking out the window at birds in the trees. I think for Christmas, I'll get them one of those bird feeders that attach to the window. It has a two way mirror so the birds won't see the wide-eyed drooling cat on the other side but it will send the felines into a foaming frenzy. The girls already have monogrammed holiday bandanas and collars. I think I have a dozen new squeaky toys and will probably bake dog cookies.

So for now, I worry. But I also enjoy. I don't take the short time for granted. There's plenty of rump rubs, lap cuddles, treats, walks, rides, and catnip. In return I get something you can't quite explain to someone without a pet - unconditional love and all that goes with it.

Coffee, grunge and blue skies??

The first two days I was in Seattle, I spent my time between the Comfort Suites Seattle Center and the Bell Harbor Conference Center for a conference. A great place to stay. They have free high speed internet (so I could check on the girls on the doggy cam at Camp Bow Wow). I had forgotten a network cable and they gave me one. The conference center is really nice - with a Odyssey Maritime Discovery museum on the first floor. It sits right on the water so has gorgeous views of the sound.

Wednesday night, the conference had a formal dinner at a place called Dimitriou's Jazz Alley. The food was fantastic. We were entertained by a Bay Area singer named Lorraine Feather. Unfortunately a good portion of the folks there talked loudly over her singing. So I felt kind of badly for her but bought her CD. She writes lyrics to old Jazz tunes (Fats Waller, Duke Ellington) and they lyrics are really fun.

Thursday the hubby joined me. During the day, I finished my conference and he worked at the Seattle office of the company he works with (doing computer *stuff*). We wandered off from the Comfort Suites that evening and headed to a little pub called McMenamins Queen Anne. They have their own beer (I tried Terminator Stout) and great Ahi tuna tacos.

Friday morning we took the hotel shuttle to Pioneer Square. Seattle is a very pedestrian city with great mass transit available. You don't need to rent a car. Many hotels have airport shuttles or you can take the Gray Line Downtown Airporter like I did. Mark got a car to get him to his office, parked it at the motel and then to get us to Olympia and back to the airport.

In Pioneer Square, we took the Bill Speidel's Underground Tour. Ends up the original Seattle burned down. It had been plagued with flooding and plumbing problems so the heads of the city, decided they would knock down a nearby cliff and build up the city. But in the meantime the owners of the buildings wanted to get on with it, so they rebuilt in stone and brick in the same place. After these buildings went up, the city built walls around them, filled up the streets with the cliff and other stuff. So now the first floors of these older buildings are underground and the street level is at the second story. The tours take you under the sidewalks and view a lot of fun things. They are led by people in theater and comedy and the history of Seattle is given to you very tongue-in-cheek.

After the tour, we ate paninis and limonada at a little mediterranean place (Mediterranean Mix) off Pioneer square. We ventured back out and walked down to the piers and the waterfront. I have to mention the weather. It was 50s and 60s and blue sky. Yeah - kind of weird for Seattle for this time of year. We had to stop in Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe on Pier 54. It's a combo shop and museum of the weird. There are human and animal mummies, a siamese calf, shrunken heads and more.

From there we took 185+ steps to Pike Place Market. Good thing we're from a high altitude so didn't have heart attacks. We visited a bunch of shops below the market, watched them throw fish, smelled gorgeous boquets of flowers. We bought some cinnamon hazelnuts, then ventured a little farther up hill to Westlake center. On the way to Westlake, I saw a sign for Three Dog Bakery and had to get the pups some treats from our trip. I put my cinammon hazelnuts in the same shopping bag. I got some odd looks munching on something I was pulling from the Three Dog Bakery bag. At Westlake Center we boarded the monorail back to the Seattle Center. It’s a quick trip but fun being so high above the streets (and a good way to rest weary feet).

We had started the day under the city and we ended it high above the city in the Space Needle. We watched a rain storm roll in from the north. There was a wine tasting from a Washington vineyard (NorthStar out of Walla Walla). The Stella Maris Columbia Valley Red was very tasty. We headed back down the elevator and up the Queen Anne hill for some dinner.

We chose a place from the guidebook called Ten Mercer, about 5 or 6 blocks from our hotel. As we walked up hill, the light rain turned into a torential downpour and came at us horizontally. We got to the restaurant soaked, walked in the door, looked around and noticed everyone seemed a little dressed up. We were in wet jeans. After some discussion about reservations (no) and tables (yes, please), we sat at the bar and tried another local wine. Ends up there was both ballet and opera shows that evening (which is why people were dressy). After that initial dinner rush, more people came in wearing jeans and less formal wear. Dinner was worth the walk in the rain and the service was fantastic. Yum!

Saturday we drug our weary legs out of bed, checked out of the hotel, and headed back to the Seattle Center around the corner. This time we went to the new Frank Gehry-designed building(?) housing the Experience Music Project. The building itself is a sight to see. Very curvy, metallic, colorful blop (like something dropped from the needle). EMP is a music museum/interactive experience (thus the name) mostly focused on Pacific NW musicians, including Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix. After that we visited the Science Fiction museum (housed in the same building). Lots of fun stuff there. Both museums are the ideas of Paul Allen (the other half of Microsoft). It was funny to see a lot of the items on display in the Sci-Fi museum were from his personal collection. Software geek = sci-fi fan. Imagine that!

Since two museums are not enough in one day, we hit the Museum of Flight near Boeing on our way down I-5 to Olympia. It's full of all things with wings. If you think my hubbie had fun in the Sci-Fi museum, he was a kid with cotton candy on Christmas day here. The museum includes an air park outside. They have a Concorde you can walk through. The only problem they had covered the seats with a plastic bubble on each side so you had barely enough room to walk through. It got jammed up at the cockpit so it was slow going. I was 30 seconds from hyperventilating - didn't realize I was that claustrophobic!

We headed down to my w-Dad's place outside of Olympia for the night. My hubby hadn't been out there to see his place yet. It was a quick visit but I'd be in trouble being the state without visiting! Sunday morning, he and his wife Marcia took us to this place down the road (Kennedy Creek) to watch Salmon spawn. Not only do they swim upstream but they like to run in very shallow water. They are big guys too and not very pretty. The Kennedy Creek area is somewhat rain foresty - lots of moss and mushrooms.

Then back to the airport and home to the pups and kitties.

Orange hands and other hazards of travel

I took a week off to head northwest to Seattle for a conference. I went out by myself (my hubbie arrived two days later). Traveling by yourself, you tend to be more aware of your surroundings and the drama in them.

I took the bus to the airport. The last stop before the airport picked up several airport employees. John, the fuel handler trainer sat in the seat across the aisle from me. The first call on his cell phone was to Rick - a new guy whom he apparently forgot his name but was training him. They discussed fuel stuff and the day's schedule for training. Then there was a long pause on John's end with a lot of uh-huhs. Then he said "yeah - I've been through that but mine was 12 years, not three." More uh-huhs. Then he says, "well ... I would put her stuff out on the front lawn and say goodbye. You got to cut your losses, man." Who knew Dr Phil was masquarading as a big, burly manly fuel handler man on the airport bus?

I love to travel to Washington and I love Frontier airlines. However the Seattle gate is at the end of the A councourse where about 500 gates are all stuffed in a corner. It's always a mad house. But fun to listen to the gate people try to steal the overhead paging system from one another.

"Attention Flight 844 to Sea..." interupted by "Last call for passengers on flight 63...." interupted by "Missus Pigg, Missus Ima Pigg, please come to a white paging telephone." Then they start to get testy and you hear "Att ... las... missus... 844 ... final... gate... grrrrr..."

As I am sitting reading the same sentence in my book over and over (ADD on overload), a mom and her 2-year-old sit down next to me. I am a kid magnet. Usually the ones with boogers, drool, dirt on their shoes. She's cute but is practically in my lap. She gets her dirty shoes on my skirt. I move farther to the right edge of the seat. Then mom hands her a bag of cheetos. This woman gets high marks in my book (not!). I stand up. She looks at me and I feel I have to say something. "Uhm - I'd rather not have orange hands touch me..." and I wander off to settle between a sleeping Japanese business man and a nicely dressed older couple - neither of whom have cheetos or boogers all over them.

Luckily when I board the plane - mom and the orange kid are no where in sight.

My friend Jospeh and his wife Ariela once visited Denver from their home country Israel. Ariela is a very talented artist. So one of the places I took them was the Denver Art Museum. Joseph got a kick out of the Native American area but then was done. He headed back downstairs to the couch by the front door. He finds observing people more fun than art. I like art but he's right on the people watching.

The gate I was facing said "Philadelphia" on the marquee. However, the plane at that gate was going to Las Vegas. It was very amusing to watch people run at full speed stop about 20 feet from the gate person and just look stupified. She would say "Vegas?" and they would nod. She would gesture them over. In the midst of the paging wars - you would hear her say "Flight 666 (or whatever it was) is now boarding at gate 56." So it was funny to watch people given those instructions but be faced with accidentally going to Philadelphia instead. Most of them were likely already liquored up for Vegas (baby).

However - I wondered about the gate people. I mean, really. How hard is it to type on the little keyboard and make the marquee say Las Vegas? But that would take the fun out of it, now wouldn't it?

Blasted Technology

Wrote a lengthy blog last Thursday night from my hotel room in Seattle. Free high speed internet comes with speed bumps. Hit one of those bumps when I tried to publish and the whole thing disappeared. Sumofa...

Guess I need to learn "save as draft" more often or perhaps use a text editor.

You just don't fit in

I caught the premiere of Martha Stewart Apprentice a couple of weeks ago. I was curious. I was a fan of her TV shows and still pick up the magazine once in awhile. But soon into the show realized I had no tolerance for adults generally acting like junior high school students. I was set to write comments about how that is not reality TV and why do they even call it that?

However, in the past couple of weeks, it's hit me like a wet fish. It *is* reality. Adults act like immature teenagers. It's most prevalent when they are put behind the wheel of a car. There's pages and pages of comments on that (and if I am to post this one in a timely manner, will let you use your own experience with this to fill in those paragraphs).

It also happens at work. I was always flabbergasted (love that word) at "office politics." Now they are kind of funny but also kind of sad. I remember one former co-worker complaining he couldn't sit next to another former co-worker because "she keeps looking at me." It didn't matter that they were cube pods set up in fours, with half walls, and her desk directly faced his. I've seen other former co-workers who were very easy to work with face-to-face but constantly running to the supervisor "he isn't doing it right," "she screwed up the files." It was just short of "I'm gonna telllll..."

I haven't missed that since working freelance. I still see a lot of this in emails between project managers and project leads and just chuckle to myself. I have the luxury of not being in the office, being able to ignore email and phones (for a little while at least) and mostly be removed from it.

So I guess why I can't stomach any more Apprentice, the only reality show I really watched, is because I've lost tolerance for this behavior. I mean really (or perhaps, WTF?!), what is the point of acting like this except making yourself look stupid? Then again, maybe that's my opinion of it. One person's stupid is another's normal life. But then again - I know everything.

[postscript: okay, fine. you got me. that was immature. sometimes you just get so angry that comments like that come out. but hey, they make it through filters easier than %##@$%$!!]

Goombah shirts and Power Panties

Men should not be allowed to shop by themselves. Especially when there's a specific requirement to what they wear. My darling hubby took off the mall one Saturday while I was off at book club. If you know my hubbie, you know that a Hawaiian shirt is his look. My perfect dress is a gorgeous blend of pink, red, orange and yellow. His assignment - a *solid color* shirt that matches my dress for my baby sister's wedding.

He found his perfect shirt and also bought a new pair of dress pants. The pants needed alterations so he didn't bring either home, instead snapping a photo of the outfit on his camera phone. Okay, camera phones are not high definition, but I swore this looked like more than one color and like a bowling shirt or perhaps an Italian Mafia shirt.

The clothes were ready Wednesday. We were leaving for Albuquerque Thursday morning. So in a brief moment of clarity, I decided to bring my dress with me to pick up his clothes. It was a very good idea. While the shirt is nice, it is three colors in large stripes and does not go with the dress one bit. The salesperson came to the rescue and led me to the perfect solid color shirt -- just one color -- in kind of a sherbert orange. It was perfect and looked fantastic. He got to wear his Goombah shirt for the rehearsal dinner -- it looked nice and actually went pretty well with my rehearsal dinner outfit.

While I was at Nordstrom's, I picked up a pair of "Power Panties" by a company called Spanx. Even though I have lost weight, I still have some lumps and bumps to corral. My previous piece of "shape wear" is a size 22. So this brought me to the Power Panties. I thought maybe they might give me superhuman abilities. Wearing this rather comfortable garment was fairly uneventful - perhaps I just gave off the vibe. Don't mess with me... I am wearing my power panties.