Extreme Makeover--Landscape Edition

They live so far east that you can see the Milky Way at night. So far that coyotes sing them to sleep and roadrunners hustle through the yard. It's my favorite part of their house.

We spent a week getting intimately acquainted with their rocks, bushes, and trees. We experienced sweat-drenched shirts in the mornings and afternoon monsoons while we (hopefully) helped with the landscaping. So the holes are dug, the posts cemented in, the OSB nailed on. We started the paper and wire and then deserted them.

By now, the wall has been fully covered with black paper and chicken wire and the stucco is on. The sound of a trickling fountain and the beginnings of greenery are changing the extended patio. There's still lots to do...but at least we helped a little.

Higher Math

I can't believe that I have to "do the math" to figure out how old my kids are! It wasn't this hard to remember last year.

Somehow, as they progress through their 20s, it becomes increasingly harder to just spit out the proper age without even thinking about it. Was it all that long ago that I could tell you he was just 9-1/2 months? I remember when I could tell you he was 5-1/2 years old too.

Of course, when he was a teenager it was excruciatingly important to remember how old he was as we counted through all those milestones (entering high school, first girlfriend, drivers permit, driving test, college applications).

Somehow it wasn't hard to remember he was 20--good grief! I didn't have a teenager any more! And then 21--easy! 22 and 23 though, things got a little murky and I had to think a little bit when asked. At 24, I figure it's okay now if I'm right about what decade he's in.

More worrisome to me is the fact that I can see a time in the future when my boys are actually older than the age to which I will admit--a situation made worse by the fact that I feel about as old as my kindergartners' moms when I'm probably closer in age to their (shudder) grandmothers. Can I say right now that I just love those dads (think mid-life-crisis and second family) who are sending their oldest to kindergarten and are ACTUALLY OLDER THAN I AM? They are soooo good for my propensity to think that I am way younger and tons hotter than I actually am!

But enough about me...

Hippo Birdies to my baby. I hope this photo shows how I proud I am of the way he turned out and how much I love him!

Entangled in a Web

So glad Pooh and family are following my sterling example and beginning a family blog of their own. Actually I think that the Tigger just begged and bugged and wheedled and nagged (successfully). And since he knows his way around a computer, from the requisite gaming to graphics and presentations, it is fitting that he get a little blogspot time.

They are just starting, but I'm looking forward to watching them develop their blog ( http://www.3alwayshumming.blogspot.com/ ) since their life IS always humming whether it's school/work/garden/house/or the hummingbirds at the kitchen window! Have fun, guys!

Bakery Bones

My sweetie is a little jealous of Kharma's attachment to me, I think. I have a secret weapon though. I love making doggy treats. Virtually every pocket in every dress, jeans and jacket has the remnants of a treat feast. No wonder she loves me. I not only smell good, I'm like the ice cream truck is to a kid--irresistible. Unlike the ice cream truck, I pay off continually.

Kharma deserves nothing less than the best. I combine organic peanut butter, skim milk and whole wheat flour, cut, back and I'm set for a couple of weeks. By making her treats myself, I don't have to worry about pet food recalls. Her Peanut Butter Bones are healthy, yummy, cute, and much cheaper than the gourmet treats at our local dog patisserie. I don't feel guilty because they get my patronage for her regular (very expensive) kibble, her walking leash, car leash, collar, tags, dog toys and classes...

We share her treats with best friend Echo. Each batch has a few destined for Echo's delight. Then too, both dogs fetch the Frisbee during daily visits to the pasture and both get a nice treat each time they bring back a slippery Frisbee dripping with nice thick saliva (both girls are Lab or part-Lab). I have to admit that treats that cost next to nothing are pretty easy to dispense freely, especially when I think of how much we used to spend on Charley Bears, or freeze-dried liver or various types of jerky. And training happens much quicker with those rewards coming regularly!

I found the "bone" cookie cutter fairly quickly. It's a big large--I really love the teeny weeny cookie cutter bone that Jeannie has. That was a garage sale acquisition though and I'm not setting my hopes on ever finding one myself. I do love the two new "doggies" though. The one on the left sure looks a lot like Echo and the sitting one is a ringer for Kharma. Now I have to figure out how to make a dark Echo dog biscuit and a blonde Kharma treat...

Fond Fotos for a Friday

Honeymoon memories. (Appropriate since we just celebrated an anniversary.)

We look a bit younger than I remember being. But who isn't amazed when they look back at how young they were?

He got to share places he had visited before. I learned to read a map. He got to eat my camp cooking. I saw petroglyphs. We found out our Datsun didn't climb steep grades all that well and neither of us cared.

Friday's Fun Family Foto

What a cutie! Kindergarten, I think, from the date on the back and the lack of a school uniform.

Funniest thing he ever did: Pop up and show unsuspecting passers-by his face (post-gunpowder explosion) while Mom was picking up his prescription at the pharmacy.

Dumbest thing he ever did: Drop a match in the gunpowder (like his cousin showed him) and then bend down to see why it didn't explode. Boom.

Second luckiest thing he ever did: Blink his eyes just before the gunpowder went off.

Luckiest thing he ever did: Met and married my wonderful sister-in-law.

Smartest thing he ever did: Pick me for his sister.

Locking the Barn Door

Life isn't safe. Accidents happen. Tragedy happens. Sickness happens. Poop happens. I'm with the Boy Scouts and their motto "Be Prepared" though. You can buckle up, look both ways, wear clean underwear, take your vitamins, and not follow your friends when they jump off a cliff.

Is your children's school safe? You can, and should, ask hard questions of your school administrators. Find out their disaster plan. What would they do if there is a code red or a lockdown?

Then look at your child's classroom critically and ask if that plan is realistic. Can the teacher lock the door(s) from the inside? Can the view from the windows be blocked? Is there a place inside where the students can shelter? Could law enforcement reliably and easily ascertain which classrooms have a "situation" and which don't?

I know--scary stuff.

I don't want to be dooced, so I'm just making a suggestion that there might be room for improvement at a school near you.

There will never be a better time for it. Be proactive. Stand firm. Demand solutions. You might save a life.

Spring Fever

Actually my temp is perfectly normal, but my eyes tear up until well after lunch and I carry a little bottle of allergy eyedrops EVERYWHERE. The allergies this year are kicking my patootie, big time.

So when my MSN homepage appeared this morning and I saw a blurb about the 100 worst cities for springtime allergies, I figured that northern Nevada would probably occupy the first 50 cities cited.

Instead I am pleased to say that no wonder my poor dear brother-in-law has so many interesting allergies. He grew up in El Paso--number 13 on the list, folks. Truly horrific. You have my sympathies, Big D, and I'm so impressed that you cart your whole allergy-ridden family there to visit. You guys are saints.

And I always knew Las Vegas wasn't anyplace I wanted to live (although I love attending soccer tournaments there)--poor Vegas, number 19. Now I understand why during State Cup I loved the games, but couldn't breathe, slept sitting up, thought I had pneumonia and barely made it home to Urgent Care. Might have been something in the air.

I'm glad we only get to Albuquerque (number 38) in the summer. And even gladder that Son Numero Uno didn't inherit any hayfever.

For those of you who thought San Diego was one of the primo spots in the States--perfect weather year-round, sports, sailboats, fun--also a few pollens like the weather also. Number 54.

One more reason not to ever want to live in SLC, besides the fact that there are no trees, no water, no style and it's way too big--number 60 on the allergy list.

I'm crushed to find Lancaster PA at number 75. My brain--enamored with Amish quilts, farming and all things horses--is struggling with the idea that it's not all natural and healthy living, it's natural and Claritan-Clear living. Gotta love those drugs.

And, alas, Pooh escaped one cesspool only to land in Portland, number 84. Apparently all that lush greenery reproduces and sends its armies of evil minions directly to her home. Forget Clone Wars, it's more like Spore Wars.

Generally speaking, avoid Arizona and Florida as well as some "cities" in Texas that I've never even heard of unless you like living on antihistamines during the spring.

As the slide show of Cities To Avoid progressed, I got a little nervous. I had started out thinking that we'd be high on the list and then found myself wincing a little as each new slide appeared, hoping that perhaps the City of Trembling Leaves wasn't all that bad. (Amazingly) nothing in the Sierra Rainshadow made the list.

I'm not cured, but I'm much happier as I think of everyone out there so much worse off than I.

Family Foto Fantasy for a Freaky Friday

From our fridge: a fantasy.

There's no longer a beard, long braids, a diaper or shaggy blond hair. In fact, there's no longer even a wild California hillside.

We've all changed. Some have grown up and don't let their mom cut their hair anymore. Some have grown up and shed their baby fat and are rail thin. Some have grown older and gained a few pounds. Fashions have changed and tastes have changed. Sadly, we don't all live in the same state anymore.

This little pic decorates our fridge and brings back memories. Little kids and lots of love. Happiness and simplicity.

Life might be more complicated, the kids are grown and there have been so many changes. But the happiness and love are still there.

The Corner Office

It only took 30 plus years, but J.R. has earned a corner office! His morning commute is incredibly short and he reports almost no traffic--that alone is fantastic. If you look closely you can see the dress code is casual. That may not mean much to him, but makes my laundry load a little smaller.

It's not only a corner office, but it has a window. He's never had a window in his office--we'll see if he can resist the great view and still be as productive.

A downside is the lack of air conditioning (other than breezes sent by Mother Nature) which could be nasty when the weather turns summery. That situation might have to be addressed soon. This place doesn't have good storage either so much needed equipment isn't handily available. Good thing he is quite organized and good thing I'm merciless when culling unneeded items for him!

His immediate superior is a plane-commute away in SLC so he will be doing some travelling similar to when the company HQ was in Valencia. But we are both happy to still be Nevadans rather than relocating like so much of the company employees.

Hoppy Easter

Don't eat all your chocolate bunnies in one day!

Spring Rewards

This adorable little Easter bunny hopped my way via one of my morning kindergartners. I love the way the baker caught the typical bunny hunch (I'm not really here at all, Mr. Fox), those cute chubby toes and tucked-in scut. Bunnies are the best.

He tasted quite nice too. Soft, fresh whole-wheat bread with the perfect touch of sweet honey. I'm sentimental, but I admit that I ripped off his bunny feet, followed by his bunny ears and cottontail and popped them into the oven and then turned to menu item number two...
fresh eggs. Just spoil me rotten and get it over with! A morning kindergartner has seven hens a-laying (oops, wrong holiday) and my Easter gift was a decorated flowerpot filled with eggs. Three brown from the Plymouth Rocks and two green...yes, green!...from one of their more-exotic hens.

Applying the prinicple that any egg older than one day is an old egg...
we proceeded to whip up two cheese omelettes accompanied by the aforementioned dismembered and nicely heated bread bunny. Can you see how green that eggshell is? Amazing!

Teachers may not get the highest pay, but there are other reward--like spontaneous hugs and the makings of a simple but perfect dinner.

Grampa's Brother

It turns out that Mattie was my grampa's brother.

It's not my fault! Nobody ever referred to him as Uncle Mattie. (Not surprising, since I don't call any of my aunts or uncles anything but their name plain and simple. Guess it's a family tradition.)

On the other hand, I always knew that the Red Bluff relatives were Great Aunts and Great Uncles. And I saw them a whole lot less because a three hour drive with three siblings fighting in the back seat wasn't my parents' idea of a nice weekend excursion.

See, blogs are educational!

Fabulously Fantastic Family Photo for a Friday

In honor of Easter...

Four cousins (I'm the one with ribbons in her hair). Vickie and Shelly are older and the little boy is actually the cousin closest in age to me.

Denver was the closest they ever lived to the rest of the family--which makes it pretty impressive that they made the effort to return to the Bay Area to share Easter with my grandparents.

I was always pretty shy and the older girls filled me with awe.

Little Larry however was my bud. We shared Necco Wafers behind the foyer door where the others couldn't look. We made a tent using my daisy quilt with the lumpy cotton stuffing. Inside was our own purple-tinted world filled with imagination. I looked forward to his infrequent visits as his parents added child after child to their family and they travelled in a converted bus (precursor of today's RVs) from Ohio to California.

Then one day, my adolescent pal ran away from home (after an argument with his Air Force dad, as I recall, perhaps incorrectly). Adolescents don't need much of a reason to act irrationally though. He was hit by a car and killed. The news hit me hard even though we were basically strangers at that point.

A future where he and I shared our childhood memories with our offspring instead became a drawer that contains a lumpy daisy-strewn quilt and a fondness for Necco Wafers.

Fabulously Fantastic Family Friday

There's no place more wonderful than Yosemite in the Spring. Waterfalls roaring, the Merced tumbling bolders, chipmunks frenetically climbing trees, Half Dome looming mistily in the distance, heavy green canvas tents, carrying water in galvanized buckets, bears being hand-fed in the Meadow area and cruising the campsites later for midnight snacks.

Those were the days...and possibly the reason why my favorite Far Side of all time is the bears looking at the campers in their sleeping bags with the comment "Sandwiches!"

Actually, it wasn't the bears that made the big impression. Chipmunks are my first memory. I can see their little striped tails flicking with nervousness as they spiraled up and down the trees. I've loved the critters ever since.

I was two years old in this photo of my Dad and I, Half Dome in the background, probably on Inspiration Point. Those were the days, no annoying little brother yet, the apple of my parents' eyes. Yosemite in the Spring became a family tradition, usually on Memorial Day to catch the majesty of the waterfalls in snowmelt.

The March Girls

(A deceptive title to lure in those who love to read Louisa May Alcott and especially Little Women. Interesting the things that show up when you Google a phrase.)

Actually, since it is still March (the third month of the year not the literary family, third or otherwise) and it is Wednesday which in my pointy little mind is the third day of the week (workwise) and since two of my favorite relatives have their birthdays in this month--I thought it might be fun to surprise them with a post all their own.

So, Jeannie and Pama, this one's for you!

• Happy Birthday! No, I didn't forget, I never forget, I'm just apparently permanently birthday-card-impaired and I've ceased apologizing for it. I never used to be this way.
• If you sent me a birthday gift, thank you and I love the stickers which are destined to eventually end up on a gardening page in my scrapbook.
• If you didn't, then I love your blog posts and wish you would enable "comments" so I can drop by and visit via "Sweet Teas". Yes, I am quite bossy and opinionated and yes, it is your blog and yes, I am actually too lazy to email when commenting is so much easier.
• Unbelievably you both became published authors this month! How unlikely is that! Chronologically, not talentwise.) Let me be the first to say that I am glad that the ocean is still host to a pretty diverse set of characters and yet how unfortunate that most of them now have the intellect of a sponge instead of the average Land Shark (classic SNL fan here). And I look forward to reading about country churches--how wonderful to salute "your" daffodil cross at Eastertime.

You are both soooo talented and nice and kind and wonderful--are you related to me by any chance? Love you both!

Fabulous Friday (Slightly Slipped)

I've been scanning old b&w family photos and have been planning a weekly Friday post on them, but I have to get started sometime. So just pretend it's Friday and cut me a break.

There were relatives who turned up at my grandparents' ranch frequently, part of an extended cast of characters that flowed through--some had two legs, some had four, some I liked, some I loved. This photo is of Mattie and Ethel. They were wonderful. There are only two kinds of people in this world and kids know instantly which kind you are--people who like kids and people who don't. It's not like they played football with us or invited us for sleepovers or anything, but we knew they liked us.

They always (and I mean always) drove a grey Hudson. They drove it for 20 years that I can remember and I wouldn't be surprised to know they drove it for 40 years, because they never owned any other car. I think when they died that vehicle was still in their garage. Occasionally, a Hudson will cruise during Hot August Nights here in Reno and it instantly takes me back to the crunch of gravel on the road into the Ranch as that long elegant grey car would rock slowly to a halt outside the garden fence.

Mattie and Ethel lived in a little white house in Crockett close to the Sugar Refinery and although we probably didn't visit much, they were always glad to see us. The air that close to the Carquinez Straits felt different, exotic, moister than we valley-dwellers were used to and with a hint of saltwater to savor if the tides were running right.

Mattie always had stubbly cheeks and Ethel wore her hair in a braided coronet. To this day, I think women in braids look totally wonderful. I guess I always knew that Ethel was the taller, but then Mattie was so close to my grandpa's size that I never thought of him as short.

What does it mean that they are my first Fabulous Fun Friday Family post? (I don't even know exactly how they were related to us.) Maybe they were there to teach me something about accepting people who didn't fit the mold. They weren't parents like everybody else in my large Catholic family. They didn't look or dress or live like relatives who were more modern, but the clothes and hair and car were part of their charm.

Families are complex creations and we never know how our presence can ripple through the extended group and influence the least likely events. Mattie and Ethel were part of my childhood scenery and life would have been the poorer without them.

Going Batty on Our Play Date

We saw it from 395 and were dying to check it out but there was always so much that had to be done at Grammy's new house. Their lights would be on late for evening classes and we could see how large the store was. It's so close and convenient to Grammy's that we knew it would be a great resource, plus it's literally around the corner from Winco and down the street from the soccer complex. Finally, yesterday we found ourselves Going Batty.

The new quilt store in town was everything Grammy and I hoped it would be and more. They even had a doorman (well, make that doorboy since the owner's son was apparently on Spring Break and making himself useful).

They had sweet patterns for spring animals/dolls. It was not easy to restrain myself, but the thoughts of my sewing room currently piled high as we rearranged to make my sweetie a home office in a former guest room helped. Good sample quilts on the walls including a great monthly strip sampler with what I can only call a double friendship star block that I'll have to try soon.

And lots of luscious high quality fabric--the kind that has that lovely sheen and soft hand and incredible colors.

So, what did I buy?

Well, I've been wanting to make a theme pillowcase ever since Pacific International in October. I even helped Karen make one of her kits so I'd know how to sew it together--the pattern has a few special but easy tricks that are well worth the price. I fell in love with puppy fabric. Hey, golden puppies and frisbees, what could be more appropriate?! We matched it with a dog bones print and a grassy green accent. You can see how cute they look together. I can hardly wait to start having sweet (doggy) dreams!

Going Batty even sells Bernina products so I asked if they had someone who serviced sergers--and he was right there (owner's husband?). So after months of trying new needles and new thread and new tension settings and blowing out every speck of dust caught anywhere, I'll have a serger up and running in a week or so! I've had so many decorating projects to tackle and have been so frustrated without my trusty Bernette...

All in all, I think girls should have a regular play date!

Spring and Other Delights

What a difference a week can make in Nevada!

It wasn't a question of if we'd have a delayed start, it was a question of one hour or two. The two hour delay gave me time a morning off to watch Kharma romping through the snowy pasture with delight. We took our little neighbors and tired them out hiking through around the pasture, making snow angels and throwing snowballs for Kharma to catch.

Not even a week later, the annual race between the crocus, mini daffodils and mini iris to see which blooms first was pretty much a three-way tie. Okay, maybe the mini daffs were out a fraction ahead of time, but it was hard to tell with all the snow on them a little earlier.

It's been agony to come home for lunch, look at my garden basking in the warm sunny day and then have to return to school. I've been bursting to clean up the last of fall's debris on the sleeping flower beds and trim down the stems that mark the location of the herbaceous perennials and prune the peach tree and dream in front of the seed racks that have appeared in nurseries and grocery stores alike.

Fortunately those incredibly seductive warm days alternated with grey clouds and nippy winds on which I was more than happy to cuddle in the rocker and quilt. We've sprung ahead and took advantage of our long balmy evening to attack the peach and the apple with the limb saw and long loppers. They are completely pruned, but look much better and we'll have a full garbage can of cuttings for Tuesday's pickup.

Even better, it's Spring Break (can you hear the angels caroling with joy in the background here?) and I'll have nine uninterrupted days of garden time! Tomorrow it will be time to gather pussywillow branches for the mantle and to share with our neighbors.

(Sigh of delight). Life is good.

Speechless

There is nothing much to say.

We are glad it is the weekend, of course. I don't even have anything bad to say about the rain this time. ANY precipitation is automatically good and welcome at this point.

My sweetie talked me into going to his office to help him empty desks that are being sold. It's not my ideal weekend activity, but given that he didn't get home before 7 pm any day this week...guess it's a way to help him out.

We are continuing to reorganize--we are getting some new storage units for the garage and some thought has to be put into deciding where and what. I'm hoping that it is easier to get in and out of the car and that there is more room in front of the cars for us to get by (and for the lawnmower once it is that time of the year again).

I like organizing. It doesn't really get anyting done, but theoretically it should help if we should want to work on any of our dozens of projects.

We are getting another closed unit and two open metal bookshelves. I think this means saying goodbye to an old rickety shelf and an open one that my better half has always disliked. That's okay with me as long as it improves the flow in our garage. We both collect an awful lot of junk--it's time for it to either be thrown out or truly organized if we are keeping it. I'm not sure how the larger items are gonna fit in yet--maybe we will switch things around a bit.

Now all I need is some ambition to put in the time and effort instead of collapsing on the sofa and watching Oprah when I get home from school.

Ambition usually takes two ingredients. Weather over 50 degrees and under 90 degrees. And feeling healthy. Regretably my allergy pills are not doing the trick, so it may be time to ask my doc what we can do to help a body run amuck as the molds and pollens defrost. I sure appreciate all those hayfever free years when I could do as I please.

So, now that I've taken this much time to say absolutely nothing...I'm off to hit the elliptical machine and lift weights.

Happy Birthday, Kharma

At one year of age she knows these commands:

• sit
• lie down
• play dead
• roll over
• spin
• bring the... ball, squeaky toy, wire hoop, frisbee, or bone by name
• drop
• wait
• stay
• cross the street
• jump on and off
• heel

She also knows that she has to sit or we won't throw her frisbee. And she loves her frisbee and is great at catching it and bringing it back. She's getting better when told to leave something alone. We are working toward greater control off-leash and she's improving constantly. She is off-leash all the way to the pasture and back every morning for frisbee. We've found treats are very motivating. We can't thank Jeanie, our trainer, enough for all the helpful hints during our class.

We need to work on "come" till she has it perfectly. Then we can start agility training...yippee!

Meanwhile, I've got to get busy making her birthday cake and another batch of doggie treats.

WE HAVE THE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!

Forever a Puppy?

Today is Kharma's last day as an official puppy--she turns one year old tomorrow. And yes, we are having a birthday party for her, complete with friends (canine and otherwise) and a doggy birthday cake from our 3-Dog Bakery Cookbook).

While I'm proud of her generally very grown-up behavior, I'm gonna miss her puppy days. Wistful sigh.

When she was a puppy, everyone would say how cute she was. And, oh my, that round little body. She was so fuzzy and soft. Totally adorable! She took a long time to learn to manage those unpredictable baby legs and would trip and stumble and bumble along. We would find ourselves laughing all day long at her failed attempts to put the brakes on.

Big and little kids couldn't wait to pet her. There's nothing less intimidating than a blonde little puppy with a fat pink tummy. And a back end that wiggled side to side while her front end wiggled in counter-point.

Alas, she looks so grown up in comparison now that she's accepted by one and all as an adult dog. She may not miss the attention, but I have to admit that I do! It was fun.

So I had to post one of her puppy mischief photos just to remind myself that maybe it's a good thing that puppies don't stay puppies forever. Dogs are pretty wonderful themselves and we have some fabulous memories of our little puppy to treasure.

The Gift

Many thanks to my mom for sending this my way. I don't know the author, but she (must be a she) deserves kudoes for this one. It's a powerful statement and it would be great to feel this way about our bodies, our choices and our abilities at any stage of life.

"Old age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be.

Oh, not my body! I sometimes despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly.

As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avant-garde on my patio.

I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m. and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's, and if I, at the same time,wish to weep over a lost love... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful, But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be, but will continue to rejoice in what was."

Groundhog Day

One of our favorite movies is Groundhog Day with Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell. Wouldn't it be cool if we just kept repeating a day until we finally got it right? Reincarnation, but at a daily level.

If repeating this day, I'd have taken Kharma to the pasture five minutes earlier so I wouldn't have been five minutes late at school. Or I would have cut my conversation with a former kindergarten mom short so I wouldn't have had to run home to make up time which caused a very interesting series of sounds that varied from wheeze to whistle as I breathed.

I'd have avoided the upper end of the pasture with the apparently seductive dog smells so the pup would have come when I called. Or I would have physically gone and grabbed her instead of trying the dog trainer trick of calling her while hiding (in the weeds wearing polar fleece). Picking rabbitbrush bits out of my newly-washed jacket the entire afternoon was not my idea of fun.

Also, possibly I wouldn't have had the second half of a PBJ for lunch. I didn't really do enough to deserve the extra calories although a carrot stick just didn't seem to have the same appeal at the time.

Or possibly I would have done it all the same, because I feel like I had a very nice Friday. Every Friday is nice. How could it be otherwise?

Flower Power

Guess who got roses! Yes, twenty-four glorious buds in shades from sunshine to sunset.

I usually love to get live plants so I can enjoy many years of flowers. I have a gorgeous yellow rose that feels like an anniversary kiss from my sweetie each summer. The baby roses in pinks and corals and peaches that remind me of birthday givers. I have chrysanthemums that not only brighten the autumn, but bring happy memories of co-workers.

Usually I can tell how a plant is feeling with just a glance and am there with water or a move to a brighter window as needed. However, I am currently killing every plant I get with no effort on my part. Any plant that crosses the threshhold is doomed. Heck, if it even sets root on our property, it's a gonner. Now that I think about it, I've even done some long-distance killing if several bushes that lived all too briefly at Grammy's are any indication. It's an odd feeling to have a black thumb for the first time in my life.

We may be short one poinsettia, a variegated ficus that lasted several years until it entered my kill zone, and a lavender bush that I had big plans for (how do you hasten the demise of a drought-tolerant plant, for heaven's sake?). I am successfully giving rosemary a bad case of mildew and the oregano leaves look fried. Peace may not stand a chance if I can't even get one of these easily-grown houseplants through a summer.

So...I am loving every petal on my roses. They are lasting at least as long as any live plant would. I don't have to worry much about taking care of them since I can see through the vase when they need water. And, knowing that their beauty is fleeting, I am spending time each day to admire them and bless my sweetie for knowing that, this once, roses were the perfect birthday present!

Erkie's Adventures

Erk is our own personal entertainment center.

We recently realized that the reason we don't go dancing, hit the movies regularly or skydive is that we get a weekly dose of excitement from watching him play soccer. It helps that he is a goal-scoring machine on the pitch, but it's actually the quality of his play and the fact that he gives 100% on the field that is the attraction! He's currently playing indoor soccer on both a coed and a men's team--so we get double the fun each week. This is the first season he's played indoor since shredding his ACL his freshman year and, while we both had concerns at first, neither of us flinch much less cringe when we watch now. Erk told his friends up front that he wouldn't play unless it was on an indoor turf surface. We've especially loved watching the coed team--the female players are quite skilled and the teamwork and passes are a joy. Outdoor soccer is still a few months away and we should mention that we've watched his men's league team improve continually and were league champs this fall. Go, Lazyboys!

Now that we've got the soccer out of the way...

It took a few years, but he realized that sitting inside in front of a computer for eight hours a day wasn't really the way he wanted to spend his work hours. He'd been quite impressed with the physical therapists during his ACL rehabilitation so...farewell, Computer Science and hello, P.T! He's officially majoring in Health Ecology now (the catch-all title for those interested in a career pertaining to Medicine in some way, shape or form). He's a Physical Therapy aide for a group downtown--a way of earning money and getting experience in his newly-chosen field. We are thrilled that he's found his niche--with all his people skills and athletic experience, this just feels right to us. He has no problem getting to work at 8 a.m. so we know he must really like what he's doing.

He's still living in the same house fairly close to campus although the roommates have changed a bit as they graduate and get jobs. It's convenient to his job and it's not too far from us either. We enjoy a weekly family dinner so we can catch up, but still let him have plenty of independence. He'd love to have a dog, but knows school and work eat up too much time, so for now his parakeet keeps him company.




He's been an immense help at Grammy's. Her backyard landscape project wouldn't have gotten nearly as far without his muscles and willing gift of time over and over throughout a very hot summer. We are quite impressed with his hard work. Turns out that he and Amanda make a good team when it comes to landscaping. They somehow made it fun to move large quantities of soil. We all miss her as she completes her master's degree in Montana.

It doesn't seem that he could possibly be 23 now. We're glad he's still nearby. We trade haircuts for backrubs and he doesn't let us get away with any parental nonsense. We compare notes on novels and swap copies. Holidays are happier with at least one kid around and it's been wonderful to have three generations seated around the dinner table!

(Thank you, Pam, you got me blogging on him!)

Making a stand

I've been reading way too much about diets, scales, weight control, proper eating and resolutions this year. Being told what's good for me always makes me want to do exactly the opposite.

Just for the record:

• I have not been to the health club once in the last month
• I relished every last smooth and creamy bite of the holiday dark chocolate fudge
• I have not taken even one healthy long walk this whole vacation
• I have plans to combine a hot bath with one of Jan's homemade mints
• Made-from-scratch hot chocolate just became one of our holiday traditions and the holidays aren't over yet
• I was the culprit who finished off the peppermint bark

To every thing there is a season. This is my time to savor the epicurean treasures that appear only during the holidays. And they taste even better when the rest of the world is apparently revelling in crudites.

Family Update, Part Deux

Pierre is nicely settled in the southwest (with a wonderful girlfriend and her little girl), fixing computers and installing digital dental x-ray software. Getting software certified has meant a few trips to Atlanta and Salt Lake which also means the parental units get a nice phone call from him when he's on a layover (he's actually better at calling than I am).

He's renting a newer home with a home office. Good thing too, because he frequently has some very long days which extend into the wee hours when business is brisk, and it's soooo much nicer to get up, pet the pooch, and take a snack break in your own kitchen (see above). He's not doing much on the rental, because it is a rental. But...he's saving all those nickels and dimes and hopes to begin looking for a house of his own. Sounds like homes are still affordable there and I can just picture him fine-tuning a nice older home into a showplace inside and out.

When the company owner moved away to start up another office and expand the business, that left Pierre in a management position and he's had all the joys and tribulations inherent in finding the perfect (and some slightly imperfect) employees. It's good life experience, right? Fortunately, hiring and firing is not the biggest part of the job, and he enjoys troubleshooting computers. One nice perk is hockey tickets. Watching ice hockey up close and personal so you can really appreciate how hard players check is very cool (no pun intended) and Pierre and The Girlfriend make it a family evening.

He's still loves speed and is working on his "Z" as funds permit. He's mainly a self-taught mechanic, no surprise since he's always been hands-on with tools, and amazed his parents no end with what he can do. He even installed a sweet sound system in The Girlfriend's truck for Christmas.

We also are hearing that he makes a very calm and patient "parent"--of course, we think Lia is totally sweet, so how hard could that be?! But still, we are very proud of the way he's turned out. And very happy that life is dealing him some good cards finally. It's hard to believe, but he clicked off that quarter century mark on his last birthday.

He still loves doing anything outdoors and wearing t-shirts emblazoned with fast cars or microbrew logos.

2006..2007

Now's the part where I open our checkbook and write '07 on the next twenty checks.

No, we're not staying up for the new year in PST. It's already arrived in Paris and New York and Phoenix and it won't miss us greeting it. And I do want to tune in HGTV for the Rose Parade and unless we get some shuteye soon we won't be up in time (we are in vacation-sleep in very late mode here).

Favorite moment of 2006: seeing the puppy of my dreams after looking fruitlessly for almost four months.

Favorite accomplishment of 2006: standing on the summit of Mt. Rose together.

Favorite presents of 2006: E's Christmas card and Pierre's family photo, both tugged on the parental heartstrings.

Favorite event of 2006: Hauling the very very last wheelbarrow of 28 cubic yards of dirt (excuse me...soil).

Favorite photo of 2006: Grammy with the aspens blazing around her like 80 golden birthday candles.

Welcome, 2007. Bring us Peace. Bring us Laughter. Bring us Wisdom.

25...26...27...ready or not

Okay, you got me...I didn't update our Christmas newletter on the 25th as planned. Spent the entire day cooking, opening presents, and talking to family on the phone and the day was over before we knew it. We declared the 26th a day to do absolutely nothing (what bliss!), so no post then. But today, we're raring to go.

Our year had many memorable moments. We hiked to the summit of Mt. Rose for the first time on Labor Day. The weather cooperated, the company of friends was perfect and we plan to repeat annually. The aspen groves blazed later this fall. Tahoe was idyllic in July. The massive trout at Fanny Bridge left the family fisherman groaning over forbidden fruit swimming below. Sunnyside Beach had a pirate's ransom of beautiful stones to pick over and collect. I highly recommend riding a jet ski with Pierre, but found that other members of the family simply cannot steer a kayak. No one ended up in the cool waters of Tahoe though and it was nice to be with family.

The family geologist flew to Argentina early in the year to trek yet again in the Puna (the plateau on top of the Andes). He reported many changes since his first trip years ago, including paved highways and tamer wildlife. He visited Serbia in early winter and fortunately the weather cooperated. The rolling countryside was thinly forested with young deciduous trees. His unusual destinations furnish a variety of experiences. He seems to enjoy the geology and survive the accommodations but always is happy to get back to dining experiences that don't involve beef for breakfast, lunch and dinner!

The company closed their LA headquarters, so he will be reporting to Salt Lake instead. (It's always been convenient with drill sites and the office to be in the same area; we're hoping this doesn't mean that he will be spending even more time on the road.) Borax's parent company has reorganized, so personnel and locations are in transition. There is definitely potential for some interesting challenges and only time will show if the changeover is a positive one.

Kindergarten is a dream year with very small classes. We sometimes look around and wonder what we did with twice the kids last year! We see the benefit of individualized attention in their ability to read sight words, print in lower case, sound out words and count. It's really pretty amazing! I've enjoyed the opportunity to work with the high and mid level children as well as the lower group. My goal is to keep learning fun while still challenging them to do their best.

I had a new assistant coach helping me with the Soccer Chicks. She played for the Wolf Pack and somehow found the time and energy to help at practices and games. It was wonderful for the girls to have her as a role model. Our players improved consistently although our win-loss record didn't reflect the change. Then they surprised us all by somehow winning the Fall Friendship Tournament. It's a fantastic group of players and parents. So many of them were part of my original kindergarten class and it's been fun to watch them grow up.

Just when we were beginning to be frustrated by Kharma's teenage antics, we were lucky to find a wonderful dog trainer. She inspired us to be creative (hey, we should be smarter than our puppy, right?) and gave us a new focus. Kharma loves clicker training because it involves many wonderful treats. We love the success. It's wonderful to walk a dog who will heel. It's fun to teach her tricks. It's great to have the tools in place so we can continue working on good behaviors. I've begun to teach Kharma some basic agility and want to expand her boundaries beyond our backyard. We were totally fortunate to find such a great puppy. As they say, dogs are not our whole lives, but our lives are not whole without them!

More soon...

My Favorite Words

Christmas Eve

The night the entire family gathers.

The night you take a photo of the family dressed in red.

The night Santa drops a sheet-wrapped bundle in the backyard.

The night you hear sleigh bells on reindeer.

The night you get to open some presents.

The night Christmas lights gleam everywhere you look.

The night all the presents are wrapped and under the tree.

The night the refrigerator is stuffed with the Christmas edibles.

The night you can give a hugh sigh of relief as the stores are finally closed and you can't buy one more present even if you wanted to (which you don't).

The night you sing every carol you know.

The night it all began.

The night the Spirit of Christmas gifts each of us with a peaceful silence in our hearts.

Merry Christmas!

The stockings were hung

There's nothing in the stockings yet... but we're hopeful that we don't find coal in them on Christmas morning. How does Santa get down that chimney anyhow?

Currently enjoying:

• holiday vacation for the rest of 2006
• hot chocolate from scratch
• over-the-top displays of lights in Hidden Valley
• shopping far away from the mall and traffic
• the Carpenters' Christmas album
• a soft clean puppy that smells like soap
• Kharma cookies and homemade fudge
• receiving Christmas cards
• an expanded flock of antique Nativity sheep

What about you?

Cozy and Warm

There is no place better, on the shortest day of the year, than the kitchen. Decembear has been wandering through the house and wisely has been spending some time in the kitchen, enjoying family time while investigating the cupboard and the cookie jar.

This is the first year in memory that I have not made one single batch of cookies, fudge or peppermint bark! It seems a little sad that I haven't had time to do anything but cook dinner, however there is always a silver lining. I have very little self control around sweets (okay, I have no self control) and this December I haven't gained a single pound. We have had a few visiting elves and I can say that I'd rather have visitors than time to bake!

Have Some Bubbly

Currently enjoying:

• Mitch Miller and the Gang on the CD player
• Hot cocoa made from scratch--2 tsp sugar, 1 tsp unsweetened cocoa, dash salt, mix well with a little hot water, add milk and nuke for a minute and a half--yum
• The warmth of Sorel boots
• Garlic sausage, sauerkraut and Brussel sprouts
• A Stephanie Plum mystery
• A clean desktop
• A husband in the house
• Canine snowtoes
• My sewing machine

TTFN--time to grab a book and head into a toasty warm tub filled with bubbles.

By Any Other Name

Light
White
Soft
Clumps
Fluffy
Sparkly
Diamond Dust
Champagne Powder
Drifts
Showers
Magical
Shovels
Tracks
Silent
Chilly
Mittens
Mysterious
Discovery
Beautiful

Attics

It's a good day to rummage around in the attic--there's no telling what you might find up there: children's books, old soccer jerseys, stained-glass lampshades, twin sized blankets, aquariums, board games, picture frames, school memorabilia, turntable, college art and crafts, and some empty Christmas boxes and bags. Lots of things that fit a former lifestyle. Lots of things we don't need anymore. Lots of things that we can't bear to get rid of. Attics are a good place to have.

Sorry, Decembear, you're too late to find the holidays in the attic. They've moved on. Keep on looking--I'm sure it's somewhere in the house.

Soot and Cinders and Candlelight

We've always liked it best when Decembear stands on his head to look for the holiday spirit!

I guess we all get a little looney sometime during the holidays when our time gets short or our creativity falters or our patience lapses. Fortunately, it all seems to work out in the end. I'm way behind on many things but I have faith that this weekend will work wonders!

Since the D-bear looked after sundown, I suspect that he might have caught a glimpse of some Hannukah candles shining in the dark. I don't know about you, but I could really use a holiday that lasts for eight leisurely nights. And the Dreidel game is the best!

Got Dustbunnies?

Yes, indeed, that silly Decembear is looking under his bed for Christmas. It's a very kindergarten thing to do (something that I am an expert on). Any kindergartner will tell you, if asked about hide-and-seek, that under the bed is a hiding place par excellence.

But anyone who has ever been to our house in December would tell you that it takes more than the few cubic feet under a bed to hide our version of Christmas. We actually have seven very nice plastic bins that hold the majority of our seasonal decorations on the garage shelves. Added to them are the large wreath box that previously held the replacement top of a thirty-six inch kitchen range and the attic contents that are odd sizes and shapes with don't fit in a box. It takes a full day just to pull the non-tree items out and arrange them around the house.

Indeed, I am very lucky that my sweetie patiently endures my yearly decorating frenzy. (He knows that he really doesn't have a choice in the matter. It's like geese migrating or boys splashing in mud puddles--it's just gonna happen no matter what.) I'm not sure why I feel the entire house needs to be decked in green and red each December. I didn't inherit my tendency towards overkill. It's not neighborhood peer pressure.

I have no explanation. Except...maybe...I just love Christmas?

The Search Goes On

Decembear took a brief trip to SLC so his search for the holidays was temporarily interrupted.

He's back now though and has begun roaming through the house to see if he can find some of that Christmas spirit.

He had a little bear brainstorm and decided to look in the toy chest. (That's probably the most logical place he's looked yet.) He's found lots of toys there, but no nicely wrapped packages that make intriguing noises when he shakes them. He may not have found Christmas today, but I think he'll have fun with all those toys that he had forgotten about!

I grew up with two toy chests. One is a little bench with a lid that opens and decals decorating it. It wasn't large, but it held Raggedy Andy nicely along with my other dolls and toy horses and my favorite stuffed dog. My brother would look there for his tiny green toy soldiers and his slightly mangy stuffed tiger. As I grew older and used it less, my sister would store her treasures inside its depths. I realize now that it was a very small area, but it seemed more than adequate to a child. I think it resides now in Paso with my brother.

The other toy chest was a very large square box with a (totally unsafe) large lid that until recently resided on our parents' very long hearth. Made by my grandfather, it held toys for my kids when they visited as well as any other rugrats that happened along. The toys were castoffs that none of us has any emotional attachment to, but were still very fun. When my mother moved at this time last year, we gifted it to a young family so presumably another generation of three siblings is currently rooting around for their toys and fending off a brother or sister in the process!

Good memories.

Send Not to Know...

John Donne knew. We are all connected.

Rest in peace, Nate Krissoff...classmate, friend, whitewater kayaker, brother, son, Marine. You will always be part of our Roy Gomm family. Thank you for your courage and dedication in a land far away. You led your men in an environment that we can not begin to imagine. You inspire us. We'll do what we can for your parents and your brother. Fare thee well, say hello to Matt P and Matt B for all of us.

Tears today, but pride always.

Games

Decembear officially made it inside the house! I'm sure he'll be much warmer searching for the Christmas spirit there than outside, even if he is a bear with a nice furry coat. He's looking inside the closet under the stairs.

Oddly, we have exactly such a closet ourselves. Inside are games and more games. Monopoly, Checkers, Battleship, several versions of Trivial Pursuit, Don't Break the Ice, Junior Pictionary, Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Uncle Wiggly, All the King's Men, several decks of cards and, let us not forget, Uno. No, that's not all, but it's all my brain is going to come up with right now.

What's your favorite game? (Please remember that this is a family site and reply accordingly. Or not.)

And yes, it does say it's Tuesday the 5th up top, but that's because it's only 3 minutes away from the 6th. So I'm a little overprepared and have some caffeine in me, live with it!

Take the Fifth

He thought he might find Christmas underneath the doormat. I had a look at my multilayered mat today and found that it could use a good cleaning to remove leaf fragments that have escaped previous autumnal rakings and sweepings. Afterwards I stood back to look at the door and realized that it looks pretty welcoming at this time of year--a very country wreath, a snowman beside the door, Santa welcoming visitors from the wall, a post wrapped in red tinsel and bows, and the icicle lights dangling all around. Visitors welcomed...

p.s. If you feel like you are so busy you might as well be standing on your head...it's better than being a doormat!

The Front Steps

Decembear is looking on the front steps today.

Appropriate, I think, since many of us are focusing our attention on our outside decorations for one and all to enjoy. Isn't it nice that the Season brings out our hospitable side?

We not only decorate for our neighbors to enjoy, but we give to our local charities to help those in need of food or shelter as well as those international groups providing education or medicines to our global neighbors.

We admire the work our local Food Bank does in providing food for families. My scrapbook store is helping them by collecting food for babies (apparently this is an area that not many people think of when they are contributing to a food drive) and I had a blast in the babyfood aisle in Safeway. Doctors Without Borders is also getting a contribution from us this year--a well-run group providing essential services in places throughout the world. I am especially drawn to their work in Africa. I feel so helpless when I hear of the tragic events that have been much in the news this year and Doctors Without Borders has provided me with a way to help.

Decembear's Annual Trek

Welcome, Decembear!

Our favorite countdown to Christmas is hung. Decembear has already looked for Christmas in the sleigh (it wasn't there) and at the skating pond (cute little bear-ette, but no Christmas). He's checking the mailbox right now in hopes of finding some holiday. I don't think it would fit in there, myself--but then who would think a slightly overweight elf would regularly slide down the chimney? So...maybe.

We are getting in the holiday mood. Our Christmas lights looked wonderful in the crispy air tonight as we came home from a walk with Kharma. In fact, the whole neighborhood looked festive as each neighbor finds the time to unravel their string of lights and house by house. Looking for the Decembear wallhanging meant that all the boxes of Christmas paraphenalia had to be opened and searched. So as long as we had them unpacked, we decorated the whole house--fireplace, china cabinet, kitchen window, front door...well, you get the idea. Our whole house is red and green now!

Don't think that there is nothing more to do! I still haven't grabbed the odd items from the attic and the wreaths and Christmas star are still up high in the garage. They are on the list for tomorrow. And it will be a while before we go out and find a tree.

Having Decembear at the mailbox reminds me that I need to begin composing our annual holiday letter. Naturally we send it to let family and friends know what is happening in our life, but old versions have become a favorite tradition to re-read for a reminder of what life used to be when the boys were young. Cub scouts, violin recitals, band concerts, young fishermen and novice mountain bike racers, a parade of pets, vacations, both parent and kid sports--how wonderful to look back and realize how lucky we were although we may not have had to time to pause in the mad rush of parenting to reflect on our good fortune. How time has flown! So on this third day of December, our hope is that you have time to think about an earlier time and smile gently at your memories. Cheers!

Why didn't I put on my muffler?

Happiness is a warm house, a heavy jacket, gloves and a hat.

Temperatures rapidly switched from Indian summer to full-on winter during Thanksgiving vacation. Our day's have been in the 30s with icy breezes that swirl under coats, pants and collars. The mountain passes all require chains and deft driving around all the spinouts from the crazed SUV drivers who have no clue that there is a difference between steering and braking. We are expecting temps in the teens overnight. We've had little spits of snow for three days now. The smart folks put up their Christmas lights and decorations the day after a turkey dinner. It was relatively balmy and windless then. Now...let's just say we're in no rush to get those lights up.

Kids see it the process very differently. My kindergartners burst out of the classroom for recess today and screamed in delight, "Snow!" They didn't pay attention to the winds or the piercing cold; they were totally focused on the occasional snowflake that the weatherpersons reported as "lake effects snow" from Tahoe. And my favorite kindergarten quote for the day has to be, "It's a MIRACLE! I never even made a snowflake before!" from an astonished little girl unfolding her first-ever cut snowflake.

I'll welcome winter when it gets here because it won't be a cold as this change of season. We'll see snowy sparkling yards rather than a dusting of dry snow swirling along the sidewalks. We'll see neighbors shoveling driveways rather than deserted streets as we all huddle at home. We'll hear the excited yelling of children rather than gusting winds blasting against windows. It will be calm and peaceful even if it's also cold. And we'll be used to cooler temps and working in the yard when it's 35 degrees out, not huddling inside.

(I'm feeling a little guilty about leaving Kharma outside during the day while it alternately snows, sunshines, gusts, clouds--but my wonderful neighbor reports that the puppy takes it calmly and apparently ignores the weather while she plays in the yard.)

The Up Side

Indian summer leads to the first hard frosts. I'll spare anyone the photos, but it's so nice to have dog waste that is frozen solid. It doesn't stink, it doesn't stick to the grass, and it picks up nicely.

Hey, I'm just sayin'...

The Downside

There are many wonderful aspects of living with a dog. However, some things we could do without especially this occasionally rainy Autumn.

Rain, unlike snow, is wet.
Rain means a dog with muddy feet.

Rain, unlike snow, is not frozen.
Rain means soft soggy dog presents on the lawn.

Autumn is also called Fall for a good reason. There are leaves everywhere in our backyard, and if you don't keep them raked every day, then those soggy dog goodies are hidden.

Things hidden in leaves are easily stepped in and soggy things stick really well to shoes.

The family feels that puppies shouldn't be left out during the rain, even if they have a lovely dry doghouse. When puppies are left alone, even with toys galore, they find new things to play with. One rainy day, ours discovered toilet paper. This was a double roll--one of those wonderful rolls about 6 inches thick that just barely fit on the dispenser. Apparently those are the most fun to play with. We came home to find our downstairs bath looked like a freak blizzard had just roared through. Kharma looked very satisfied, entertained and ready for more fun!

We're so glad she doesn't mind being shut up alone.

Home Means Nevada

Home means Nevada.
Home means the hills.
Home means the sage and the pines.
Out where the Truckee's silvery rills,
Out where the sun always shines.
Home means the land that I love the best,
Fairer than all I can see.
Right in the heart of the Golden West
Home means Nevada to me.

Happy Nevada Day!

Well almost...it's technically the 31st of October, but certain misguided citizens voted a few years ago to designate the last Friday in October so as to get a three-day holiday. So Friday is the holiday, but Saturday is the parade in Carson and the 31st is a few days away...so I guess we can just regard it as one long party. I'm happy because it gives me more time to go around humming our state song!

Happy 143rd birthday to my favorite state. I'm proud to be a Nevadan.

Fourscore

I don't know the best way to celebrate a milestone birthday like Mom's 80th, but we did our best to make sure she enjoyed it. Pooh flew down from Portland and we drove up the Mt. Rose Highway to do a little sightseeing. Here's the birthday girl as we visited some aspen groves along the creeks. (We told her that the aspens were her birthday candles.) She sure doesn't look like she's 80!

Just having a family gathering was nice. We christened her new dining room with a birthday dinner. She may have made her own cake (guess she wanted to be ready!), but at least she let Pooh decorate it for her and she was surprised at the extra large birthday candles we found. There were balloons and flowers and long distance phone calls and gifts to open.

Happy Birthday!

Cinderella team

Here we are at the Fall Friendship Tournament this weekend. The Soccer Chicks had a roller coaster of a tournament. They got a hard-earned win on Saturday morning, then looked with disdain at the much-younger and much-shorter coed team later that afternoon and got their donkeys kicked as a result. So much talk, so many tears.

But one loss doesn't lose a tournament, so they put in a serious effort resulting in a win on Sunday morning and an advance to the championship game.

We tied the Championship game, went to overtime, and eventually a shootout. We had our most relaxed goalkeeper in the net and she saved penalty kicks time after time. Our best kickers shot hard and accurately. We could hardly believe we had won the division. So we all screamed and jumped up and down and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

We have a large trophy that is making the rounds of players' homes and each girl is wearing her medal with pride.

These girls have kept their spirits up and had fun even though they have lose our league games. They've kept working and had a great attitude. This tournament win was a surprise and an ego boost. They earned it and they deserved it. They earned their moment in the sun.

It went where?

Just today I remarked that this month was passing by way too fast. It's the twenty-second of September already! I just looked at the calendar...and found it's way worse than that!

It's the first day of Autumn.

I love the fall, but where did summer go? Just a week ago, we were still wearing sunblock and shorts in 90 degree weather. In the space of a heartbeat, the thermometer dropped, the sumac leaves began turning scarlet, and it's autumn.

Journal Jog #2

Last year, after a long summer of walking and talking, complaining and teasing, sore muscles and nice glutes, we ended the summer with our first-ever Journal Jog. The adrenaline kicked in and we stretched our leg muscles to their limit. The reward--we were thrilled to find we won silver medals in our team walk division. We all wondered why we'd never done the Journal Jog before--it's right in our neighborhood and we've lived here for ages. We had a ball and agreed to do it again.

Fast forward to last Saturday.

This is no time for modesty...with pride I can announce that our team kicked butt. We took 3 minutes off last year's time (okay, GinaMarie took 4 off her time, but then she's a teenager and therefore more fit even if she does complain more than the rest of us together). Yes, indeed, Carmelite Hill smoked the competition.

We now have gold medals to flaunt. Okay, they are tinier than last year's and look more bronze than gold, but they are indeed the celebration of friendship and triumph.

What's in store for next year's 40th running of the Jog? Well, we plan to actually train on the course for one thing. We will carry a stopwatch to check our splits. My personal goal is very ambitious. I want to do the 8K in an hour. That's a 12 minute mile, folks, and ya gotta be moving. And it would be nice if we all placed in our age groups.

I love my walking buddies. I'm grateful for all the laughter and support and the fun they
provide!

Best Friends

Remember when you used to be the center of the universe? Then your child grew old enough to want nothing more than to play with the kid down the street as many hours of the day as possible?

Turns out puppies do the same thing. Kharma will do anything to play with Echo. She hears her across the street and the whining and pawing and jumping and barking begins. If I make the mistake of opening the gate, she flies across the cul-de-sac as I give thanks yet again that we don't live on a busy street. If she's on leash, I'd better have a firm grip before my little freight train decides she wants to jump the track. Even our daily walks begin with her begging to go to Echo's house instead.

When they are together, they play till they drop. This photo was taken an hour and a half after they began their playdate in our backyard. That's how long it took for them to stay still for thirty seconds. About one minute later they had their second wind and were romping again.

In the park/pasture, they must run for miles as they either chase the frisbee or each other. Then they head for the black muck of the irrigation ditch for a refreshing drink and dip. Echo doesn't show the dirt, but Kharma can't just be hosed off, she actually has to be soaped clean before we can enjoy her white go-go boots yet again. And it frustrates me no end as she slurps a well-fermented slurry of cowpoop patty and nitrogen fertilized H-two-Oh. I don't really object to the patties; I think eating manure is a dog's inalienable right. It's more the idea that combine a little fuel oil with the nitrogen and you get a really nice explosion and here is my precious girl drinking it as well as splashing it all over her body. Makes me wonder why we shell out extreme amounts of money for a really high-quality, organic puppy food.

We're signing up for doggy classes although they don't start till later in October and we really could use them now. Perhaps we should just harness Kharma to a modern-day turnspit with Echo in front of her. We could undoubtedly generate enough electricity to run our house and Echo's too.

Mt. Rose

Yes, indeed, that's us with our friends on the tip top of Mount Rose at 10,776 feet!

The perfect September weather made for an excellent hike and even the breeze died down long enough on its notoriously windy summit for us to dine al fresco and enjoy the incredible 360 degree views.

It was worth the five steep switchbacks and the three long ones, the slippery talus slopes coming back down. On the positive side, the hike included the Galena waterfall halfway up as well as columbine and angelica and a chance meeting with three former neighbors also hiking to the summit.

We got to look down on Slide Mountain and the Chutes. Tahoe gleamed in the near distance. Peavine Mountain seemed so small that it took awhile before I realized what I was looking at. The Truckee Meadows seemed insignificant when viewed from such a height. We spied Mt. Lassen like a snowy mirage in the northwest.

What a perfect way to spend a day!