Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Finally going somewhar this summer
Its been a rough couple o' weeks, and not just for me, for everyone, it seems. But now I am on the eve of a road trip, and other than the nerves, I couldn't be happier. I love driving for miles. I love seeing scenery. I love rest areas, except for that smell that hits you, and its always when you Really have to pee and can't afford to pass this one up. Let's just put it this way, I like walking and running around rest areas. Sure there are nice ones in Florida, but the ones in other states...woah! Exciting! Sometimes they are hilly. They have REAL grass. Unless you're in Wyoming and they have Gravel! I love eating fast food. I love arriving somewhere. I love leaving places and moving on! I love state parks! Picnic-ing, hiking, taking goofy pictures of my daughter in the back seat. I love the conversations you get into. Yes, even with myself. I love having a giant diet soda to sip on all day. I love the DQ and froyo stops. I love cruise control. I love having an alternate route, even when I have to take it because of heavy or stopped traffic. I love seeing what a city has to offer, and picking the very best thing for me. I love the magazines filled with cheap hotel rates that you find at state welcome centers!
This trip will take us through many states east of the Mississippi: Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, North and South Carolina, Virginia and Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Maryland, Delaware, and maybe a little New Jersey and DC.
Yay, summer! Yay, road trip! Yay, frequent stops! Yay, nephews and nieces! Lucky me!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
stargazing party
Beyond identifying Orion and occasionally a Dipper, my stargazing experience and expertise is really minimal. I did get one of those telescopes that seem ubiquitous every five or ten years as the fad passes. They are really not well made, despite being about a hundred dollars, and only an expert could "find stuff" with them. At least one of the lenses had visible dark specs within, but mostly it was frustrating because there weren't very good instructions that came with it other than, "Locate an object with the attached viewfinder, then look through the main instrument and turn the focus knob...". Yes, well, it didn't work for me. And now, twenty years after Jody Foster made "Contact", I still don't believe in aliens. But I do still enjoy looking out into space. Recently I got to view Saturn through a well-aimed, large-barrel telescope. It was still really small. And that is not something you want to tell a man who is proud of himself: "Hmmmmm, I thought it would look bigger...." It is a testament to just how far away things in space are, that looking through optics that would be impressive in viewing wildlife, for example, I could barely discern rings that told me this was not, in fact, Jupiter.
I remember watching a meteor shower and being very impressed at the frequency and duration of these shooting stars. Once I swear I saw a meteor really close - as in flaming through the atmosphere - rocket over 34th Street and Archer Road, but no one else claimed to see it, nor was written up in the paper, so I wonder if I imagined it or dreamed it. Still, my weirdest stargazing experience was while I was in college. I attended a party given by my chemistry professor. I caught a ride with one of his graduate students. I saw the Pleiades. The grad student drove a VW Sirocco and told me about stealing butyric acid from the chem lab in order to make the Tolbert Area Mudfest mudpit stink like sewage back when he was in undergrad. Looking back, I wonder at my boldness. I did everything 'they' tell you NOT to do. I socialized with someone much older, who was in a position of power in that he determined my grade. I got a ride from someone I didn't really know. In his really old car. Far away to an address I was so unaware of then, that even now I couldn't begin to tell you where it was in this town I now know so well. I think I even drank a beer and was underage. I did go with a girlfriend, but still, it was a party, way out of town, dark enough that there was little interference from city lights for the star gazing. Someone had set up a telescope and it was a crystal clear cold night. And I got to see the Pleiades!
I remember watching a meteor shower and being very impressed at the frequency and duration of these shooting stars. Once I swear I saw a meteor really close - as in flaming through the atmosphere - rocket over 34th Street and Archer Road, but no one else claimed to see it, nor was written up in the paper, so I wonder if I imagined it or dreamed it. Still, my weirdest stargazing experience was while I was in college. I attended a party given by my chemistry professor. I caught a ride with one of his graduate students. I saw the Pleiades. The grad student drove a VW Sirocco and told me about stealing butyric acid from the chem lab in order to make the Tolbert Area Mudfest mudpit stink like sewage back when he was in undergrad. Looking back, I wonder at my boldness. I did everything 'they' tell you NOT to do. I socialized with someone much older, who was in a position of power in that he determined my grade. I got a ride from someone I didn't really know. In his really old car. Far away to an address I was so unaware of then, that even now I couldn't begin to tell you where it was in this town I now know so well. I think I even drank a beer and was underage. I did go with a girlfriend, but still, it was a party, way out of town, dark enough that there was little interference from city lights for the star gazing. Someone had set up a telescope and it was a crystal clear cold night. And I got to see the Pleiades!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
old truck
We sold the truck today. This is the one that I bought from the local Mazda dealership. We had it 13 years. It ran well enough, despite less than optimal care during its last two years with us. Fortunately, a mechanic bought it, as a more efficient pickup for his daily drive. Coincidentally, we bought a more fuel efficient vehicle for dear husband's daily drive. Yay, we both win.
Still, DH took it to heart, losing the truck, because he had grown accustomed to the thing. And I admit, that I missed it this past weekend as well. I hadn't realized how much I relied upon it, until I was contemplating buying a couch, and realized it would not be nearly as easy to cart home in my vehicle, and impossible to take home in the replacement vehicle. It's okay, since I was sick this weekend, there was no couch buying anyway. Still, I did miss the truck's utility if not its daily use.
I was remembering getting that truck stuck in the sand on one, no actually two, of my adventure trips, off-road bike riding, once north and once south of home. The south trip first - I was trying to take a dirt road short cut to a forest road. Well, it wasn't dirt. It was sand and it was DEEP. It hadn't been graded recently, and it hadn't rained in forever. So, rear wheel drive and all, I got nasty stuck. I never would have gotten myself out, even doing that rocking back and forth thing (which is darned difficult in a stick shift, by the way). I tried traction on the floor mats, and everything, and was just about to try to call triple-A (from a nearby pay phone - this was pre-cell), when a local offered to drag me out. I was so grateful, but I am ashamed to admit, that I don't think I thanked him enough. He was country, and I probably treated more like an employee than a saving angel. I was embarrassed because I didn't even have cash to offer him, not that he would have taken it, but I couldn't offer what I didn't have. and I acted totally tongue-tied, and I felt really stupid for getting stuck in the first place, even though an older gent nearby reassured me that it was the county's fault and they should have warning signs, etc, etc. Still, it has haunted me that I had to rely on the generous help of someone else, that I could never repay. And I still worry that I haven't paid off that karmic debt. So in a way, I am glad to be rid of that truck, and that foolishness of mine.
Still, DH took it to heart, losing the truck, because he had grown accustomed to the thing. And I admit, that I missed it this past weekend as well. I hadn't realized how much I relied upon it, until I was contemplating buying a couch, and realized it would not be nearly as easy to cart home in my vehicle, and impossible to take home in the replacement vehicle. It's okay, since I was sick this weekend, there was no couch buying anyway. Still, I did miss the truck's utility if not its daily use.
I was remembering getting that truck stuck in the sand on one, no actually two, of my adventure trips, off-road bike riding, once north and once south of home. The south trip first - I was trying to take a dirt road short cut to a forest road. Well, it wasn't dirt. It was sand and it was DEEP. It hadn't been graded recently, and it hadn't rained in forever. So, rear wheel drive and all, I got nasty stuck. I never would have gotten myself out, even doing that rocking back and forth thing (which is darned difficult in a stick shift, by the way). I tried traction on the floor mats, and everything, and was just about to try to call triple-A (from a nearby pay phone - this was pre-cell), when a local offered to drag me out. I was so grateful, but I am ashamed to admit, that I don't think I thanked him enough. He was country, and I probably treated more like an employee than a saving angel. I was embarrassed because I didn't even have cash to offer him, not that he would have taken it, but I couldn't offer what I didn't have. and I acted totally tongue-tied, and I felt really stupid for getting stuck in the first place, even though an older gent nearby reassured me that it was the county's fault and they should have warning signs, etc, etc. Still, it has haunted me that I had to rely on the generous help of someone else, that I could never repay. And I still worry that I haven't paid off that karmic debt. So in a way, I am glad to be rid of that truck, and that foolishness of mine.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Equestrienne
Dear Daughter is becoming quite the horse-rider. It started...
Well, it started before she could speak, practically, Gramma throwing her up on a painted cow to sit astride. Then it was the ponies walking in tiny circles, the miniature horses at the apple festival, and don't forget the classmate's post-Christmas birthday parties where the mom was the accomplished rider, taking kids on her gentle horse. It morphed into (that same) Gramma wanting one more trail ride, and then another one. So lessons were in order so that D.D. could do it. The last two summers she went to horse camp for two (and then three) weeks. Now it is once-a-week lessons at the farm, and she is starting to post her trot. We have been to several horse shows, and she loves the English style and tack.
Yes, we have had those conversations and discussions about owning one's own horse. Unless I sell all my worldly goods, that is not happening now. Besides the Magic Meatball and the iCarly traffic light say "no". But D.D. is sporting breeches, Ariat boots and Half-chaps now, as well as her own helmet. Give her a year and she may be showing at a 4-H.
Well, it started before she could speak, practically, Gramma throwing her up on a painted cow to sit astride. Then it was the ponies walking in tiny circles, the miniature horses at the apple festival, and don't forget the classmate's post-Christmas birthday parties where the mom was the accomplished rider, taking kids on her gentle horse. It morphed into (that same) Gramma wanting one more trail ride, and then another one. So lessons were in order so that D.D. could do it. The last two summers she went to horse camp for two (and then three) weeks. Now it is once-a-week lessons at the farm, and she is starting to post her trot. We have been to several horse shows, and she loves the English style and tack.
Yes, we have had those conversations and discussions about owning one's own horse. Unless I sell all my worldly goods, that is not happening now. Besides the Magic Meatball and the iCarly traffic light say "no". But D.D. is sporting breeches, Ariat boots and Half-chaps now, as well as her own helmet. Give her a year and she may be showing at a 4-H.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
cotton t-shirts
Hubby and I love our cotton t-shirts literally to their death. There is something about a perfect soft well-worn, broken-in t shirt that beats any other garment in our drawer. I am not always sure at the time of buying a souvenir shirt what that magical 'it' quality is that will be revealed slowly over time to make the ideal shirt. It is not obvious at first. Only a hundred wearings and washings will show which is our favorite. We wear our favorites faithfully every week until they perforate, pit-seams rip, and the decal is illegible. And then we wear them some more. We wear them until they give out. Until one can read print through them. Until we are just too ashamed to be seen by each other in them. And only then do we grudgingly give them up. With a sigh that seems to say...I remember not when you were new, but when you were whole and I could read where I bought you, and you didn't embarrass me, but that was a long time ago. "I wish I had gotten two of you," I have thought on many occasions.
They are not all the same brand. They are not all the same fit and size. They are from here there and anywhere in my travelling history. They must be not too tight. They must be not too loose. They must not be too short. They must not have stitching, only an iron-on. The iron-on must not be too big, nor too stiff, nor sticky, perhaps the best ones are screen printed and the location is right in the fabric. They must not be too heavy to start with or they are too hot to wear often. They must not be too thin to start with or they wear out before they start being great.
I think I have this formula in purchasing a shirt. I will think to myself, "this has all the qualities I am looking for". Alas, there will be no dressing room in the outdoor markets, booths, or touristy shops for trying it on. I will get it home and try to wear it lovingly, faithfully. And I will fail. Or it will fail me. It will be too hot (deadly sin in the south). It will be too dense and won't breathe. It will have too long of a sleeve and my arms will be hot. It will be too tight in the chest. It will shrink. The neck-hole will strangle me. The decal will be too hot either in the front on my ample bosom or on my back. It will fit weird, and be too tight on my hips. Sometimes its just the wrong color. It might even be too long. I have a stack of shirts that I wish I could love from places I enjoyed going. But the touch of any of these on my skin makes me itch, yank, pull, chafe, sweat, and swear in vain. I will continue to loath their touch, and no amount of washing, wearing or even stretching and sewing will turn them into a favorite.
I can't predict which ones I will love and which ones I will continue to re-stack in my shirt drawer, shifting them around, only wearing them on laundry day, shedding them as soon as my beloved shirt is clean and dry.
Last year I returned to the place I got one of my favorites seven years before. They didn't have the same ones. Even if they did...would it have worked out just as well? So I continue the search for new ones - future favorites. I continue to mourn the passing of a favorite. I continue to revile those who failed to please.
They are not all the same brand. They are not all the same fit and size. They are from here there and anywhere in my travelling history. They must be not too tight. They must be not too loose. They must not be too short. They must not have stitching, only an iron-on. The iron-on must not be too big, nor too stiff, nor sticky, perhaps the best ones are screen printed and the location is right in the fabric. They must not be too heavy to start with or they are too hot to wear often. They must not be too thin to start with or they wear out before they start being great.
I think I have this formula in purchasing a shirt. I will think to myself, "this has all the qualities I am looking for". Alas, there will be no dressing room in the outdoor markets, booths, or touristy shops for trying it on. I will get it home and try to wear it lovingly, faithfully. And I will fail. Or it will fail me. It will be too hot (deadly sin in the south). It will be too dense and won't breathe. It will have too long of a sleeve and my arms will be hot. It will be too tight in the chest. It will shrink. The neck-hole will strangle me. The decal will be too hot either in the front on my ample bosom or on my back. It will fit weird, and be too tight on my hips. Sometimes its just the wrong color. It might even be too long. I have a stack of shirts that I wish I could love from places I enjoyed going. But the touch of any of these on my skin makes me itch, yank, pull, chafe, sweat, and swear in vain. I will continue to loath their touch, and no amount of washing, wearing or even stretching and sewing will turn them into a favorite.
I can't predict which ones I will love and which ones I will continue to re-stack in my shirt drawer, shifting them around, only wearing them on laundry day, shedding them as soon as my beloved shirt is clean and dry.
Last year I returned to the place I got one of my favorites seven years before. They didn't have the same ones. Even if they did...would it have worked out just as well? So I continue the search for new ones - future favorites. I continue to mourn the passing of a favorite. I continue to revile those who failed to please.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
summer fun
It seems like this summer is flying by so fast, especially when I look back and see how much has passed, and then look forward and see how little time is left. And yet, in the middle of the day, in the middle of another major whine episode, in the middle of another "Mom, play with me" demand (not request), its like a walker in a desert...no oasis in sight. The summer started out pretty fine. We had more than a week where nothing was planned, and we ended up going to my mom's house, swimming in the pool, eating healthy food, going to her community center gym. It was actually really nice. I usually like to plan trips and outings and have something on my schedule. I really wanted to go camping or on a road trip right after school ended, but I was feeling broke, I am not sure how much more my car will realistically take, and daughter was completely against the idea. I admit to some disappointment that my daughter is not the outdoorsy camping adventurous type that I was hoping, that I saw glimmers of three years ago. So I couldn't realistically plan a trip without her, nor could I change her mind, so we did the gra'ma's house thing, and it worked out well. We also went to Weeki Watchee which is a state park now. It was as good as I remembered it. Laugh at those mermaids if you dare - they are some of the strongest, bravest, prettiest women I have ever seen! We also go to see (and pet) a pine snake, a king snake, and an alligator.
The second week of summer was scheduled, with me painting minis and daughter going to horse camp. Camp is at a great local stables, is day-only, but with up to three riding sessions per day, plus games, grooming, and occasional movies. Daughter loves it, but it is very hot and tiring for her. She is good the entire day there, and when she gets home, she puts on her devil horns and gives us hell the rest of the night. Still, its worth the 50 per day for her to do something she loves and for me to have time to myself. I wish I spent my alone time more efficiently, but I do the best I can. Unfortunately, this week was extra hot in town, with highs in the high nineties, before our summer rains set in, and daughter got a touch of heat exhaustion on Thursday, so I had her home on Friday.
The third week was unscheduled, but not for lack of trying. I wanted daughter in a half-day gifted program, but they ended up being full, and no one dropped at the last minute, so she was home. I got ZERO mini work done. I don't know how Cynde was able to work with kids. Although she says that they entertained each other, but I think she just put her foot down and forced them to, because I am not as firm, but I am failing miserably at getting even the most simple things done. It didn't help that we were battling fleas at the time. I was vacuuming every other day at that point, and constantly washing something... rugs, clothes, and cats.
The fourth week was supposed to be spent in the gifted program, too, but since that didn't pan out, I found another job - cat-sitting for my mom while she went to visit the Chicago grandchildren. It was nice having her big, pretty house to myself (and my daughter's self) for the week. Her cats didn't appreciate us much until about the fourth day in, but we got to swim in the pool, hang out with my aunt for fourth of July, eat frozen yogurt at Yogurt Mountain practically every day, but otherwise eat fairly healthy from my mom's extensive food stores. Plus, I got paid! The only thing I didn't get much done of was minis, but as with most things, if you keep going at them, eventually you make progress.
The fifth week (last week) was another session of Horse Camp. This time daughter made it through the week. It was a lot less hot, and some of the time activities were rained out, but she was still plenty sore each night, but stronger each morning. I made a point of making her drink water more often, and that seems to have had a good effect. Daughter really wants horse riding lessons - through the year, so I will be spending my money on that, but she will not be able to get as much other 'stuff' as a trade-off.
She also saw an episode of "Toddlers and Tiaras" and wants to enter beauty pageants. I told her she might get a chance to enter a horse show 'which is just like a beauty pageant...only on a horse'. I had no idea how true that was, but it really is!!! Part of the reason the owner of the horses wants my daughter is because she fits that stereotype of thin, blond, poised, horse-crazy girl that is successful at shows. Pair her with a pretty, well-trained horse and you have a recipe for trophies and ribbons.
After two more weeks, we will be going on my birthday vacay - okay, also for my cousin's wedding - out to Washington State, then Vancouver, and then a cruise to Alaska and back to Seattle. We will get back in the night before school starts. Coincidentally, Cynde and Ron will be in AK the same time we will! At least I don't have to feel too guilty about slacking off on minis then!
The second week of summer was scheduled, with me painting minis and daughter going to horse camp. Camp is at a great local stables, is day-only, but with up to three riding sessions per day, plus games, grooming, and occasional movies. Daughter loves it, but it is very hot and tiring for her. She is good the entire day there, and when she gets home, she puts on her devil horns and gives us hell the rest of the night. Still, its worth the 50 per day for her to do something she loves and for me to have time to myself. I wish I spent my alone time more efficiently, but I do the best I can. Unfortunately, this week was extra hot in town, with highs in the high nineties, before our summer rains set in, and daughter got a touch of heat exhaustion on Thursday, so I had her home on Friday.
The third week was unscheduled, but not for lack of trying. I wanted daughter in a half-day gifted program, but they ended up being full, and no one dropped at the last minute, so she was home. I got ZERO mini work done. I don't know how Cynde was able to work with kids. Although she says that they entertained each other, but I think she just put her foot down and forced them to, because I am not as firm, but I am failing miserably at getting even the most simple things done. It didn't help that we were battling fleas at the time. I was vacuuming every other day at that point, and constantly washing something... rugs, clothes, and cats.
The fourth week was supposed to be spent in the gifted program, too, but since that didn't pan out, I found another job - cat-sitting for my mom while she went to visit the Chicago grandchildren. It was nice having her big, pretty house to myself (and my daughter's self) for the week. Her cats didn't appreciate us much until about the fourth day in, but we got to swim in the pool, hang out with my aunt for fourth of July, eat frozen yogurt at Yogurt Mountain practically every day, but otherwise eat fairly healthy from my mom's extensive food stores. Plus, I got paid! The only thing I didn't get much done of was minis, but as with most things, if you keep going at them, eventually you make progress.
The fifth week (last week) was another session of Horse Camp. This time daughter made it through the week. It was a lot less hot, and some of the time activities were rained out, but she was still plenty sore each night, but stronger each morning. I made a point of making her drink water more often, and that seems to have had a good effect. Daughter really wants horse riding lessons - through the year, so I will be spending my money on that, but she will not be able to get as much other 'stuff' as a trade-off.
She also saw an episode of "Toddlers and Tiaras" and wants to enter beauty pageants. I told her she might get a chance to enter a horse show 'which is just like a beauty pageant...only on a horse'. I had no idea how true that was, but it really is!!! Part of the reason the owner of the horses wants my daughter is because she fits that stereotype of thin, blond, poised, horse-crazy girl that is successful at shows. Pair her with a pretty, well-trained horse and you have a recipe for trophies and ribbons.
After two more weeks, we will be going on my birthday vacay - okay, also for my cousin's wedding - out to Washington State, then Vancouver, and then a cruise to Alaska and back to Seattle. We will get back in the night before school starts. Coincidentally, Cynde and Ron will be in AK the same time we will! At least I don't have to feel too guilty about slacking off on minis then!
Monday, May 30, 2011
You kids today do NOT know how nice you have it...
...compared to back in my day. Let me tell you!
Dear daughter comes to me to tell me of her boredom, and I just cannot care. She took out her DIDJ (electronic handheld learning game) and played it a while. She didn't even consider that she hadn't used it in months and the rechargeable batteries in it STILL WORKED. Thank you Sony Eneloops - wish I had you when I was young. And for that matter, thank you Leap Learning systems, with your addition and spelling drills in a fun, Fairy environment. All I had was this really dumb baseball handheld that blew up like Jiffy pop in the hot car window where I accidentally left it one afternoon, no thanks to the car manufacturers who didn't invent darkened glass in back seats until after I was old enough to know better. That game sucked anyway, but it also really sucked that my mom didn't warn me to put it down in the footwell, either. No my kind of growing up was the school of hard knocks and "too bads". Oh sure, we had our schoolhouse rock, thank goodness, or I never could have memorized the Preamble to the Constitution.
But beyond the fact of Disney East AND West channel, NICK east and west, and a whole fuckin' channel for cartoons, lies the lack of appreciation for having as many toys as she has, the quality of the toys she has, the quality of toys I have that I let her play with, and it makes me want to have a temper tantrum and kick my heels on the ground. Why couldn't I have had a scooter, a boogie board, an iPod? Oh yeah, they pretty much weren't invented yet. If our childhood was so much more fun than our parents, with their limited toys and space, and our children's childhood is so much more fun than ours, what will our grandchildren's childhood be like? Portable on-demand cheap tv shows anywhere and everywhere? Videogame style learning in school? Wireless messaging for play dates? And then what? I cannot even imagine. I know I should appreciate my old bike, the hours of Gilligan's Island, my neighbor's Atari, and all the books, records, and tapes. But will she appreciate what she had when faced with the new toys in the future?
Dear daughter comes to me to tell me of her boredom, and I just cannot care. She took out her DIDJ (electronic handheld learning game) and played it a while. She didn't even consider that she hadn't used it in months and the rechargeable batteries in it STILL WORKED. Thank you Sony Eneloops - wish I had you when I was young. And for that matter, thank you Leap Learning systems, with your addition and spelling drills in a fun, Fairy environment. All I had was this really dumb baseball handheld that blew up like Jiffy pop in the hot car window where I accidentally left it one afternoon, no thanks to the car manufacturers who didn't invent darkened glass in back seats until after I was old enough to know better. That game sucked anyway, but it also really sucked that my mom didn't warn me to put it down in the footwell, either. No my kind of growing up was the school of hard knocks and "too bads". Oh sure, we had our schoolhouse rock, thank goodness, or I never could have memorized the Preamble to the Constitution.
But beyond the fact of Disney East AND West channel, NICK east and west, and a whole fuckin' channel for cartoons, lies the lack of appreciation for having as many toys as she has, the quality of the toys she has, the quality of toys I have that I let her play with, and it makes me want to have a temper tantrum and kick my heels on the ground. Why couldn't I have had a scooter, a boogie board, an iPod? Oh yeah, they pretty much weren't invented yet. If our childhood was so much more fun than our parents, with their limited toys and space, and our children's childhood is so much more fun than ours, what will our grandchildren's childhood be like? Portable on-demand cheap tv shows anywhere and everywhere? Videogame style learning in school? Wireless messaging for play dates? And then what? I cannot even imagine. I know I should appreciate my old bike, the hours of Gilligan's Island, my neighbor's Atari, and all the books, records, and tapes. But will she appreciate what she had when faced with the new toys in the future?
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