Looks like a bunch of musicians, including David Gray, REM, Jet, and Badly Drawn Boy have created a download-able collection of music, the proceeds of which go to help Sudanese refugees.
Titled Songs for Sudan, the 14-track set became available today (Sept. 3) via download only at BigNoiseMusic.com, which was launched by British-based charity Oxfam to raise money for various causes.
To download the compilation costs $14.31; $8.95 of which will go to Oxfam’s effort to aid the hundreds of thousands of homeless and starving people of Darfur. No artist that contributed to Songs for Sudan will received royalties.
Rebel militant groups took up arms in February 2003 in response to alleged discrimination by the Khartoum government, and began ravaging Darfur villages and homes, either killing the residents or forcing them from their homes. About 50,000 Darfur people are estimated dead and more than one million people have become stricken refugees.
Too bad I've only got dial-up--the conflict would be resolved by the time I was able to download the whole thing.
September 03, 2004
What Kind of World?
I simply cannot understand the mindset behind acts of terrorism like this.
RUSSIA SAYS 10 ARABS KILLED: Andreyev said 10 Arabs had been among the gunmen killed, adding fuel to Russia's contention that Chechen rebels are backed by foreign Islamic militants.
Some officials suggested an al Qaeda financing link to the gunmen.
Couldn't even a wild-eyed religious lunatic see that killing children on their first damned day of school wouldn't accomplish anything? Seems to me that's the best way to achieve the exact opposite of your mission. That's why I'm not sure I believe that the Chechen rebels really are behind this. I couldn't begin to say who was responsible--I don't understand domestic politics, much less international conflict like this, but doesn't it seem incredibly odd that this kind of devastation could be anyone's "solution"?
RUSSIA SAYS 10 ARABS KILLED: Andreyev said 10 Arabs had been among the gunmen killed, adding fuel to Russia's contention that Chechen rebels are backed by foreign Islamic militants.
Some officials suggested an al Qaeda financing link to the gunmen.
Couldn't even a wild-eyed religious lunatic see that killing children on their first damned day of school wouldn't accomplish anything? Seems to me that's the best way to achieve the exact opposite of your mission. That's why I'm not sure I believe that the Chechen rebels really are behind this. I couldn't begin to say who was responsible--I don't understand domestic politics, much less international conflict like this, but doesn't it seem incredibly odd that this kind of devastation could be anyone's "solution"?
September 01, 2004
What a Difference a Day Makes
I had an e-mail from my aunt this morning saying that I should definitely not plan on going to California. They've decided that there will be no service for my grandmother (which still isn't, um, quite necessary), and my aunt tells me there is a considerable amount of infighting between she and her siblings, and presumably my sister. She referred to a lot of fighting, so that's who I'm guessing it's between since those are the people down there right now.
I'm honestly very relieved. It definitely wasn't going to be any kind of fun, and I know that my grandmother would feel that this was right for me. She was always tremendously supportive of me, particularly as far as me leaving the Jehovah's Witnesses went, and was horrified by the treatment that the JW part of my family gave me afterwards. I'm not sure how else I can honor her memory.
In other news, Matt and I started tearing down wood panelling from our dining room today. Half our house is done in this godawful stuff, and we've wanted to get started on it for a long time. So we jumped right in. God, what a mess. It's going to be great when it is all done, and based on what we did today I'd say that it will probably be finished around 2008.
I am sensing that Matt's stress levels are getting a little high right now--why do men feel like everything must be grilled at maximum heat?--and I think I'd better go rescue dinner. 'Night, y'all!
I'm honestly very relieved. It definitely wasn't going to be any kind of fun, and I know that my grandmother would feel that this was right for me. She was always tremendously supportive of me, particularly as far as me leaving the Jehovah's Witnesses went, and was horrified by the treatment that the JW part of my family gave me afterwards. I'm not sure how else I can honor her memory.
In other news, Matt and I started tearing down wood panelling from our dining room today. Half our house is done in this godawful stuff, and we've wanted to get started on it for a long time. So we jumped right in. God, what a mess. It's going to be great when it is all done, and based on what we did today I'd say that it will probably be finished around 2008.
I am sensing that Matt's stress levels are getting a little high right now--why do men feel like everything must be grilled at maximum heat?--and I think I'd better go rescue dinner. 'Night, y'all!
August 31, 2004
In the Doldrums
I'm feeling very slumpy today. Waking up sick didn't help. Do you think it's possible to have food incompatibility issues with patty-pan squash? That's the only thing I can think of that would have set me off. I've got terrible issues with green peppers, and this was pretty similar. So now I've got another squash on my kitchen counter and I have no intention of eating it. I'll send it to whoever wants it. Which reminds me of the time that someone gave me a ginormous zucchini and I didn't know what to do with it. (This was when I was living in the Treasure Valley in a subdivision.) I stuck a stamp on it and attached a post-it note saying, "Happy Give Your Neighbor a Zucchini Day!" and stuck it in my next-door neighbor's mailbox. Never heard a word about it. Go figure.
Looks like I'll be heading to California for the service when my grandmother does pass away. I'm not going without reinforcements, which is why I'm taking my father (aka, The Crazy Norwegian). Matt is in the middle of the worst-possible time of year, and I'm not sure that my mother's side of the family wouldn't try to steamroll him anyway. But ain't nobody gonna fuck with Daddy. So I have that to look forward to.
Anyway, I figured I'd leave you on a high note and tell you the dirtiest joke I know. I heard this one when I was in the second grade and didn't get it until about freshman year of high school. That was a moment...
Okay, so this woman goes into a tattoo parlor and requests the tattoo artist to etch the likeness of John Lennon on the inside of one of her upper thighs, and Paul McCartney on the other. It takes quite a while, but finally the tattoos are completed. The woman looks at them in a mirror, but can't quite decide if she is satisfied or not.
Not sure how to reassure her, the artist looks out the front door and spots a drunk slumped up against a nearby building. He grabs the guy and brings him in the shop, where the drunk finds himself looking at the woman, who is naked from the waist down.
The artist says to the man, "So what do you think? Does that look like Paul McCartney and John Lennon?"
The drunk peers at the lady and finally says, "I dunno, but the one in the middle with the bad breath sure looks like Willie Nelson."
Looks like I'll be heading to California for the service when my grandmother does pass away. I'm not going without reinforcements, which is why I'm taking my father (aka, The Crazy Norwegian). Matt is in the middle of the worst-possible time of year, and I'm not sure that my mother's side of the family wouldn't try to steamroll him anyway. But ain't nobody gonna fuck with Daddy. So I have that to look forward to.
Anyway, I figured I'd leave you on a high note and tell you the dirtiest joke I know. I heard this one when I was in the second grade and didn't get it until about freshman year of high school. That was a moment...
Okay, so this woman goes into a tattoo parlor and requests the tattoo artist to etch the likeness of John Lennon on the inside of one of her upper thighs, and Paul McCartney on the other. It takes quite a while, but finally the tattoos are completed. The woman looks at them in a mirror, but can't quite decide if she is satisfied or not.
Not sure how to reassure her, the artist looks out the front door and spots a drunk slumped up against a nearby building. He grabs the guy and brings him in the shop, where the drunk finds himself looking at the woman, who is naked from the waist down.
The artist says to the man, "So what do you think? Does that look like Paul McCartney and John Lennon?"
The drunk peers at the lady and finally says, "I dunno, but the one in the middle with the bad breath sure looks like Willie Nelson."
Further Details
I know I don't often post on Tuesday mornings--I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me, because I had a bit of a rough night and am home from work this morning. I think I'll probably go in a little later.
Anyway, I talked to my aunt last night. She said that when my grandma fell and broke her hip, the entire hip socket basically shattered. The doctors say there are two options: one, they can do hip replacement surgery on an 86 year-old Alzheimer's patient who has been borderline vegetative for the last two years. Two, they can put her in a morphine coma so that she doesn't feel any pain. She also doesn't feel any need to eat or drink, and after a few days her systems start to fail and she dies. Because my grandmother left a living will, power of attorney and all kinds of consent forms, this last option is the one that is going to happen. No one in the family has a problem with that at all because it really is time for this to be over.
My question is this: why does Dr. Kevorkian take the heat for assisting his patients to commit suicide? Is this in any way, shape or form morally different?
Anyway, I talked to my aunt last night. She said that when my grandma fell and broke her hip, the entire hip socket basically shattered. The doctors say there are two options: one, they can do hip replacement surgery on an 86 year-old Alzheimer's patient who has been borderline vegetative for the last two years. Two, they can put her in a morphine coma so that she doesn't feel any pain. She also doesn't feel any need to eat or drink, and after a few days her systems start to fail and she dies. Because my grandmother left a living will, power of attorney and all kinds of consent forms, this last option is the one that is going to happen. No one in the family has a problem with that at all because it really is time for this to be over.
My question is this: why does Dr. Kevorkian take the heat for assisting his patients to commit suicide? Is this in any way, shape or form morally different?
August 30, 2004
Sheesh, What a Day...
Today was just full of good news. (Got your Sarcasm-O-Meters turned on?)
I got a phone call from my dad today saying that my grandmother fell and broke her hip. Nana has been in an Alzheimer's treatment center for the last seven years, which is about the same time that she lost pretty much all of her self-knowledge. She has no inkling who anyone is, friend or family or even nursing staff. So I guess there is some connection with physical trauma and Alzheimer's patients, and the doctors are guessing that Nana has between five and seven days left to live.
It's a mixed blessing, really. I feel like she died years ago when her mind left. Her body has been suspended on earth, and it really is just tragic. And now I'm trying to decide if I go to California if/when there is a funeral. As I have mentioned, my mother and I are irrevocably estranged by her religion. I couldn't been anything but cooly polite toward her. She'd be a gibbering booby, alternately hating me for not being a believer, and then begging me to re-establish our horrifically dysfunctional relationship.
Anyway...
I also found out today that our former neighbor is in the final stages of cancer. He's been in and out of remission for the last couple of years, but his wife says this is it. He's off all treatment and the doctors say that all they can do is try to make him more comfortable.
Peachy day. Just friggin' peachy.
I got a phone call from my dad today saying that my grandmother fell and broke her hip. Nana has been in an Alzheimer's treatment center for the last seven years, which is about the same time that she lost pretty much all of her self-knowledge. She has no inkling who anyone is, friend or family or even nursing staff. So I guess there is some connection with physical trauma and Alzheimer's patients, and the doctors are guessing that Nana has between five and seven days left to live.
It's a mixed blessing, really. I feel like she died years ago when her mind left. Her body has been suspended on earth, and it really is just tragic. And now I'm trying to decide if I go to California if/when there is a funeral. As I have mentioned, my mother and I are irrevocably estranged by her religion. I couldn't been anything but cooly polite toward her. She'd be a gibbering booby, alternately hating me for not being a believer, and then begging me to re-establish our horrifically dysfunctional relationship.
Anyway...
I also found out today that our former neighbor is in the final stages of cancer. He's been in and out of remission for the last couple of years, but his wife says this is it. He's off all treatment and the doctors say that all they can do is try to make him more comfortable.
Peachy day. Just friggin' peachy.
August 29, 2004
Who Knew?
Who knew the Greeks were such big Neil Diamond fans?
We were just watching the closing ceremony of the Olympics, and everyone in the audience, athletes, spectators, etc. turned on little flashing lights that hung (presumably on string or something) over their hearts. The lights in the stadium dimmed, and each flashing light represented the spirit of the Olympic torch that each person would carry with them for the rest of their days.
Did I see the symbolism? No. I saw E.T. sticking his knobby finger out and groaning, "Ellll...eeeee...ot." And then Neil's voice rose to a crescendo in my head:
Turn on your heart light,
Let it shine wherever you go.
Let it make a happy glow
For all the world to see...
No need to thank me for getting that song stuck in your head.
We were just watching the closing ceremony of the Olympics, and everyone in the audience, athletes, spectators, etc. turned on little flashing lights that hung (presumably on string or something) over their hearts. The lights in the stadium dimmed, and each flashing light represented the spirit of the Olympic torch that each person would carry with them for the rest of their days.
Did I see the symbolism? No. I saw E.T. sticking his knobby finger out and groaning, "Ellll...eeeee...ot." And then Neil's voice rose to a crescendo in my head:
Turn on your heart light,
Let it shine wherever you go.
Let it make a happy glow
For all the world to see...
No need to thank me for getting that song stuck in your head.
That's Just Sad
I didn't have any idea Laura Branigan died until I was looking at Google News a minute ago.
She was only 47 years old.
She was only 47 years old.
Farewell to August
I can't believe that Tuesday is the last day of August. Seems like yesterday that it was May. Summers around here fly by. Maybe that's because we have six months of winter and only three to four solid months of warm weather. The rest is just cool-ish.
Several hunting seasons begin tomorrow, which means that Matt's busy season has started. It is not out of the ordinary for him to work five ten-hour days a week and two sixteen-hour days in addition while hunting is at its peak, usually in mid-October. I don't see him around the house all that much, but it's something I've grown used to. When he and I first moved in together, I had a terrible time adjusting to his schedule. I'd come home from work and be ready to eat dinner, but wouldn't want to eat until we could eat together. After a week or two of eating at ten o'clock (and often by myself anyway), I thought I'd lose my marbles.
Other game warden wives would tell me that I'd get used to it and that he'd just be damned lucky to have a plateful of food waiting in the fridge when he got home. And I think I have, at least far more used to it than in the first few years. Good thing I didn't marry an attorney or someone starting up an internet business, huh?
Anyway, fall is nearly upon us. Tomorrow and the next day are supposed to be nice, then it will get crappy again. And guess what I heard on the radio today? *drumroll* It's supposed to snow next weekend. Yep, Labor Day weekend and snow. Yeesh...
Several hunting seasons begin tomorrow, which means that Matt's busy season has started. It is not out of the ordinary for him to work five ten-hour days a week and two sixteen-hour days in addition while hunting is at its peak, usually in mid-October. I don't see him around the house all that much, but it's something I've grown used to. When he and I first moved in together, I had a terrible time adjusting to his schedule. I'd come home from work and be ready to eat dinner, but wouldn't want to eat until we could eat together. After a week or two of eating at ten o'clock (and often by myself anyway), I thought I'd lose my marbles.
Other game warden wives would tell me that I'd get used to it and that he'd just be damned lucky to have a plateful of food waiting in the fridge when he got home. And I think I have, at least far more used to it than in the first few years. Good thing I didn't marry an attorney or someone starting up an internet business, huh?
Anyway, fall is nearly upon us. Tomorrow and the next day are supposed to be nice, then it will get crappy again. And guess what I heard on the radio today? *drumroll* It's supposed to snow next weekend. Yep, Labor Day weekend and snow. Yeesh...
August 26, 2004
Feedback
Has anyone out there ever left negative feedback for an E-Bay purchase? If so, how did it work out for you? Did you get negative feedback in return?
I bought a pair of new boots from a seller and the seller claimed that they were new. Not worn once, not new condition, but new. I tried the boots on and as I was tightening the laces, one of the lace eyelets popped right out. I looked closely at it and the metal is all tweaked out of shape like it had happened before.
I e-mailed the seller and asked them how we might resolve this, but I haven't received a response and it's been 3 days now. Any suggestions?
I bought a pair of new boots from a seller and the seller claimed that they were new. Not worn once, not new condition, but new. I tried the boots on and as I was tightening the laces, one of the lace eyelets popped right out. I looked closely at it and the metal is all tweaked out of shape like it had happened before.
I e-mailed the seller and asked them how we might resolve this, but I haven't received a response and it's been 3 days now. Any suggestions?
Big Day, Big City
Matt and I headed off to Boise this morning. He had to get a receiver hitch put on his new truck for trailer towing and stuff, and I had an appointment with my OB/GYN.
My dad picked us up at the U-Haul place while the hitch was getting installed and we hung out drinking coffee (tea in my case) at Pastry Perfection and solving all the world's ills. Ol' Dad loves it when he can hang out with his kids, and particularly loves hanging out with my husband. Matt pays attention to Dad like none of my siblings' spouses do, so he's got #1 In-Law status with Dad.
We picked up the truck and headed to CostCo, where through some amazing quirk of serendipity, Matt paid for all the grocery stuff and I got to buy fun things like new bath towels, a new bathroom rug and flaming liberal propaganda.
The next step was the doctor's office, and I could pretty much have saved myself the trip if only I could prescribe my own drugs and hormone supplements. I'm developing a theory (any lawyers out there want to start the class action suit for me?) that years on Depo-Provera have completely knocked out my brain's ability to stimulate the hormone-producing glands. You'd think most women would be grateful to not have periods, right? Well, not if you're trying to have kids. I actually accused my doctor of being a wild-eyed optimist when he insisted I do a blood pregnancy test. The kind in the box has already told me I'm not pregnant, but he says stranger things happen all the time. I told him I'd buy him dinner if he was right.
I also found out that Rita, my doctor's assistant, has cancer. She's been absent for a few months now and I finally asked him what was up. He said this is the second time she's been diagnosed and that she's in a pretty aggressive regimen of chemotherapy. I feel so badly for her. She was half the reason I was going to that doctor in the first place. I hope she'll be okay.
We finished up our day by heading to The Record Exchange, Boise's best independent music store. I buy most of my greeting cards there, and snagged several good ones today. I also picked up Steve Miller Band's Greatest Hits in the used section.
*grooves* Jungle love, it's driving me mad, it's making me crazy! */groove*
My dad picked us up at the U-Haul place while the hitch was getting installed and we hung out drinking coffee (tea in my case) at Pastry Perfection and solving all the world's ills. Ol' Dad loves it when he can hang out with his kids, and particularly loves hanging out with my husband. Matt pays attention to Dad like none of my siblings' spouses do, so he's got #1 In-Law status with Dad.
We picked up the truck and headed to CostCo, where through some amazing quirk of serendipity, Matt paid for all the grocery stuff and I got to buy fun things like new bath towels, a new bathroom rug and flaming liberal propaganda.
The next step was the doctor's office, and I could pretty much have saved myself the trip if only I could prescribe my own drugs and hormone supplements. I'm developing a theory (any lawyers out there want to start the class action suit for me?) that years on Depo-Provera have completely knocked out my brain's ability to stimulate the hormone-producing glands. You'd think most women would be grateful to not have periods, right? Well, not if you're trying to have kids. I actually accused my doctor of being a wild-eyed optimist when he insisted I do a blood pregnancy test. The kind in the box has already told me I'm not pregnant, but he says stranger things happen all the time. I told him I'd buy him dinner if he was right.
I also found out that Rita, my doctor's assistant, has cancer. She's been absent for a few months now and I finally asked him what was up. He said this is the second time she's been diagnosed and that she's in a pretty aggressive regimen of chemotherapy. I feel so badly for her. She was half the reason I was going to that doctor in the first place. I hope she'll be okay.
We finished up our day by heading to The Record Exchange, Boise's best independent music store. I buy most of my greeting cards there, and snagged several good ones today. I also picked up Steve Miller Band's Greatest Hits in the used section.
*grooves* Jungle love, it's driving me mad, it's making me crazy! */groove*
August 25, 2004
The List
Kalisah got me thinking when she mentioned men she'd leave her husband for. Not bad choices, either.
Matt and I have a little agreement about such things. If one of our respective celebrity loves ever offered to shack up with us for the night, we'd have a short list of five people with whom the other spouse would have to say, "Have fun, dear. I'll see you tomorrow."
Here's mine:
Karl Urban
Pat Monahan, lead singer of Train
Angelina Jolie
Sting
And last, but not least...
Sam Elliott
Eclectic, perhaps. Who's on your list?
Matt and I have a little agreement about such things. If one of our respective celebrity loves ever offered to shack up with us for the night, we'd have a short list of five people with whom the other spouse would have to say, "Have fun, dear. I'll see you tomorrow."
Here's mine:
Karl Urban
Pat Monahan, lead singer of Train
Angelina Jolie
Sting
And last, but not least...
Sam Elliott
Eclectic, perhaps. Who's on your list?
August 24, 2004
An Unpaid (as yet) Endorsement for LL Bean
I have discovered a very comfortable, flattering pair of pants: the Perfect Fit Pants from LL Bean.
My sister-in-law wears these, but is much skinnier than I am. I have a...uh...more womanly figure. (Read: extra junk in the trunk.) I avoid knit pants because they tend to ignore my proper butt and instead hug my under-butt, that pesky region around the tops of my thighs. The Perfect Fit Pants don't do that, so I highly recommend them to any of you ladies with under-butt issues.
They come in tall sizes, too!
My sister-in-law wears these, but is much skinnier than I am. I have a...uh...more womanly figure. (Read: extra junk in the trunk.) I avoid knit pants because they tend to ignore my proper butt and instead hug my under-butt, that pesky region around the tops of my thighs. The Perfect Fit Pants don't do that, so I highly recommend them to any of you ladies with under-butt issues.
They come in tall sizes, too!
Ahh, Blessed Peace
We have our house to ourselves tonight. The in-laws left this morning, so things are returning to normal around the Casa O'Connell. Did I happen to mention my in-laws are named Gene & Jeanne? I refer to them as He-Gene and She-Jeanne. I think they had a good time and we did not suffer unduly, so it can go into the successful visit column.
Having them out of the house means that I can now haul in all my E-Bay loot from my car. I operate under the principle that they really don't need to know about my E-Bay addiction. Early on in the visit, She-Jeanne had gently mocked me about an order from Payless Shoe Source that arrived on our porch via the internet. It was gym shoes for a "Sole Mates" drive the local community action program holds, which provides athletic shoes to kids in town returning to school. And she mocked me for buying poor kids shoes! Okay, she commented about how Matt needs to watch my spending on the internet. Little did she know that I had three E-Bay packages sitting in my car...
Having them out of the house means that I can now haul in all my E-Bay loot from my car. I operate under the principle that they really don't need to know about my E-Bay addiction. Early on in the visit, She-Jeanne had gently mocked me about an order from Payless Shoe Source that arrived on our porch via the internet. It was gym shoes for a "Sole Mates" drive the local community action program holds, which provides athletic shoes to kids in town returning to school. And she mocked me for buying poor kids shoes! Okay, she commented about how Matt needs to watch my spending on the internet. Little did she know that I had three E-Bay packages sitting in my car...
August 23, 2004
How Cute is This Guy?
I'm awfully happy that Jason Gatlin won the gold medal in the 100-meter. I'm just amazed his thick, curly eyelashes didn't create too much drag. That guy has the nicest eyes...
"Instead of Maurice Greene defending his Olympic 100-meter title Sunday, the quiet one of three U.S. finalists, Jason Gatlin, won in 9.85 seconds. Five men broke 10 seconds for the first time, relegating reigning world champion Kim Collins to sixth place with a 10-flat at Olympic Stadium."
"Instead of Maurice Greene defending his Olympic 100-meter title Sunday, the quiet one of three U.S. finalists, Jason Gatlin, won in 9.85 seconds. Five men broke 10 seconds for the first time, relegating reigning world champion Kim Collins to sixth place with a 10-flat at Olympic Stadium."
August 22, 2004
Interesting Site for Idaho Folks
I ran into a librarian in the woods the other day. Not literally of course (is that a pun? If so, it's a poor one), and we struck up a conversation. Turns out there's a really interesting database available for all Idahoans to use. It's located at www.lili.org, and it allows the user to search an enormous online library for an infinite variety of topics.
As I was poking around, I found ways to access national newspapers and search for articles by topic, found information about National Book Award winners and found no reference to myself in the Knight-Ridder newspaper collection database. I don't know if that last is a good thing or a bad thing.
If you're one of the Idaho area bloggers, take a look. You might find that it's a really helpful resource!
As I was poking around, I found ways to access national newspapers and search for articles by topic, found information about National Book Award winners and found no reference to myself in the Knight-Ridder newspaper collection database. I don't know if that last is a good thing or a bad thing.
If you're one of the Idaho area bloggers, take a look. You might find that it's a really helpful resource!
August 20, 2004
Movie Quotes
I was just over at Casey's site. (No, I'm not suffering from multiple personality disorder.) A mention was made of Steel Magnolias, and I thought, "I swear, Miss Truvy, I will not allow my personal misfortune to interfere with my ability to do good hair." Daryl Hannah was actually pretty enjoyable in that. Too bad Julia Roberts sucked butt (as usual).
It got me thinking about some of my other favorite quotes from movies:
Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? Monty Python & the Holy Grail
I laughed so hard I spotted. Always
I packed your angry eyes. (Mrs. Potato Head to Mr. Potato Head) Toy Story II
Anyone want to share a favorite movie quote?
It got me thinking about some of my other favorite quotes from movies:
Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? Monty Python & the Holy Grail
I laughed so hard I spotted. Always
I packed your angry eyes. (Mrs. Potato Head to Mr. Potato Head) Toy Story II
Anyone want to share a favorite movie quote?
August 19, 2004
In Laws Say the Darndest Things
My in-laws...some of the things they say just kill me. Matt's mom doesn't really reference the fact that he hasn't lived in Wisconsin for 18 years and doesn't really know any of the people he's talking about. Here's a sample conversation:
Mom: Remember the Schmelters?
Matt: No.
Mom: Well, their daughter Roberta was in a class with your sister Michele, and... yadda yadda yadda.
I think the best thing so far was when Matt asked her about her bladder control problem (shh, they'd kill me for blogging this), because Mom had an electronic device similar to a pacemaker put in surgically about 6 months ago.
Matt: How's that working for you?
Mom: Not very well. It's turned off right now.
Dad: She's got a remote control for it. Tell them about the air conditioners!
Mom (with an exasperated look toward Dad): We have new remote-control air conditioners in each room of the house and every time we turn one on, I get a jolt.
Me (thinking to self): Wonder what would happen if I hit the garage door opener right now?
Mom: Remember the Schmelters?
Matt: No.
Mom: Well, their daughter Roberta was in a class with your sister Michele, and... yadda yadda yadda.
I think the best thing so far was when Matt asked her about her bladder control problem (shh, they'd kill me for blogging this), because Mom had an electronic device similar to a pacemaker put in surgically about 6 months ago.
Matt: How's that working for you?
Mom: Not very well. It's turned off right now.
Dad: She's got a remote control for it. Tell them about the air conditioners!
Mom (with an exasperated look toward Dad): We have new remote-control air conditioners in each room of the house and every time we turn one on, I get a jolt.
Me (thinking to self): Wonder what would happen if I hit the garage door opener right now?
August 17, 2004
Talk Me Down
Boy, I just got screwed over by someone who regularly screws over lots of people. This clearly does not make me special in any way. Still, it smarts. I thought I had something good coming to me, and someone in a position of power decided I really didn't need it after all.
So remind me: good karma is its own reward, right? I'm trying to think peaceful thoughts and keep it all in perspective. It doesn't have to be about me. This person is a jerk and does things like that. I don't need to judge myself because of his own lack of regard for me, right? And the good thing is that he's rotten to everyone almost unilaterally.
I just have to remember, I'm a good person. I do good things. Karma is a wheel.
So remind me: good karma is its own reward, right? I'm trying to think peaceful thoughts and keep it all in perspective. It doesn't have to be about me. This person is a jerk and does things like that. I don't need to judge myself because of his own lack of regard for me, right? And the good thing is that he's rotten to everyone almost unilaterally.
I just have to remember, I'm a good person. I do good things. Karma is a wheel.
August 16, 2004
By the Pricking in My Thumbs...
I am flat-out rendered tonight. I have been cleaning every single surface in my house with a madness that indicates urgency, if not methamphetamine addiction. No, I haven't turned our crack house into a crack home, but something major is afoot: my in-laws will be here tomorrow for a week-long visit.
This isn't the dire news it used to be. I used to beg to get sent away on work assignments when they'd come visit before Matt and I were legally wed. Since we were living in sin, it seemed I was to be treated as a sinner. (Matt was innocent, merely led astray by my Jezebel-like ways.)
But then Reverend Van Dunston (of the Special Memory Wedding Chapel, Las Vegas) made an honest woman out of me and my treatment by Matt's parents got better. His mother and I discovered a few commonalities that allow us to have civilized conversations. His father continues to politely ignore me, but in a much more friendly fashion.
Still, I cannot have this house anything but spit and polish. Matt says I should just calm down and that they won't notice. That may well be, but I'll be thinking, "Will this be the trip where they mention that they've been performing the white glove test on my mantle and shelves?"
Stay tuned for more updates...
This isn't the dire news it used to be. I used to beg to get sent away on work assignments when they'd come visit before Matt and I were legally wed. Since we were living in sin, it seemed I was to be treated as a sinner. (Matt was innocent, merely led astray by my Jezebel-like ways.)
But then Reverend Van Dunston (of the Special Memory Wedding Chapel, Las Vegas) made an honest woman out of me and my treatment by Matt's parents got better. His mother and I discovered a few commonalities that allow us to have civilized conversations. His father continues to politely ignore me, but in a much more friendly fashion.
Still, I cannot have this house anything but spit and polish. Matt says I should just calm down and that they won't notice. That may well be, but I'll be thinking, "Will this be the trip where they mention that they've been performing the white glove test on my mantle and shelves?"
Stay tuned for more updates...
August 14, 2004
Wedding Bell Blues
Today we went to one of the more interesting weddings I've ever been to. This wedding was actually interesting weeks before it even started. We received our invitation and a small piece of paper fell out. It said, "The couple is registered at Linens 'N Things and WalMart." Anything I say about that will absolutely exceed my weekly catty quotient and I'm really not saying this to be mean. The bride and groom are nice people and I wish them the best. I just think they had a funny wedding is all.
So we got to the site, found seats, and the event got underway. The groom's 13-year old son was his best man. About five minutes into the ceremony, this kid folded like an origami crane. One minute he was standing there--the next minute he fell over like a plank. Everyone figured it was the heat of the day.
As I was sitting at the table (yes, we were seated at the dinner tables for the ceremony), I noticed that the centerpiece was a filled water goblet with a fish in it. My eyes kept wandering back and finally I realized, "That fish is belly-up." Yes, they thought of everything with the decor, right down to the dead fish in the water glass.
Anyway, I'm not exactly the Martha Stewart of weddings. Matt and I got hitched in Vegas, so we didn't really go through all the choosing of table linens and such. And I do wish this couple the best. But (hee hee) there was a dead fish on the table...
So we got to the site, found seats, and the event got underway. The groom's 13-year old son was his best man. About five minutes into the ceremony, this kid folded like an origami crane. One minute he was standing there--the next minute he fell over like a plank. Everyone figured it was the heat of the day.
As I was sitting at the table (yes, we were seated at the dinner tables for the ceremony), I noticed that the centerpiece was a filled water goblet with a fish in it. My eyes kept wandering back and finally I realized, "That fish is belly-up." Yes, they thought of everything with the decor, right down to the dead fish in the water glass.
Anyway, I'm not exactly the Martha Stewart of weddings. Matt and I got hitched in Vegas, so we didn't really go through all the choosing of table linens and such. And I do wish this couple the best. But (hee hee) there was a dead fish on the table...
August 13, 2004
I'm Hot, You're Hot, He's Hot, She's Hot
Miserable damned heat. My car registered 95 degrees on my way home from work today. Cascade is supposed to be around 7 to 10 degrees cooler than Boise, so it must be an oven down there. I flat out cannot drink enough water today.
So I think I've got it all straightened out: this is Zach, and this is Corey. Both are loads of fun and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better.
What a busy few days it has been. Here I was just complaining about having no social life... Yesterday was the girl's day, which really did turn out to be fun. Today one of my co-workers had a barbeque dinner, then I helped out the local Search & Rescue department registering people for a training session. Tomorrow we have a wedding to go to (and I'll be taking a few hours off work for that), and we're heading to the movie (The Village) Sunday night. Matt's parents show up for a weeklong visit Tuesday. I'm trying to reserve judgement on that, but if it doesn't go well you'll all be hearing about it, believe me.
So...wishing you all a good weekend and hoping that you're staying cool and well hydrated!
So I think I've got it all straightened out: this is Zach, and this is Corey. Both are loads of fun and I'm looking forward to getting to know them better.
What a busy few days it has been. Here I was just complaining about having no social life... Yesterday was the girl's day, which really did turn out to be fun. Today one of my co-workers had a barbeque dinner, then I helped out the local Search & Rescue department registering people for a training session. Tomorrow we have a wedding to go to (and I'll be taking a few hours off work for that), and we're heading to the movie (The Village) Sunday night. Matt's parents show up for a weeklong visit Tuesday. I'm trying to reserve judgement on that, but if it doesn't go well you'll all be hearing about it, believe me.
So...wishing you all a good weekend and hoping that you're staying cool and well hydrated!
August 12, 2004
Thursday, Shmursday
Looky here! Another Idaho blogger, and better yet, one who seems to share many of my political and religious opinions! I could just piddle from the excitement. Thanks for posting a comment, Corey. Hope to get to know you better.
Today is the big girlfriend get-together day. Why am I feeling so ambivalent about this? Since moving to Cascade four years ago, my nearby girlfriend quotient has dropped dramatically. I don't have seven kids and my husband doesn't beat me, so I have very little in common with many of the women in this area. (Okay, that was hyperbole, but I am a charming and fascinating person who just isn't finding a whole lot of companionship outside of my home.) So I should be excited about seeing the girls, right? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my right eye is swollen halfway shut after an allergy attack yesterday afternoon. Matt suggested I wear an eye-patch and talk in pirate speak all day. Helpful, isn't he?
I dunno...I guess I feel like several of the girls and I have grown apart in the last few years. We're lacking some commonality anymore.
It's supposed to be 104 degrees in Boise today. I'll likely wilt like a flower, don't you think?
Today is the big girlfriend get-together day. Why am I feeling so ambivalent about this? Since moving to Cascade four years ago, my nearby girlfriend quotient has dropped dramatically. I don't have seven kids and my husband doesn't beat me, so I have very little in common with many of the women in this area. (Okay, that was hyperbole, but I am a charming and fascinating person who just isn't finding a whole lot of companionship outside of my home.) So I should be excited about seeing the girls, right? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my right eye is swollen halfway shut after an allergy attack yesterday afternoon. Matt suggested I wear an eye-patch and talk in pirate speak all day. Helpful, isn't he?
I dunno...I guess I feel like several of the girls and I have grown apart in the last few years. We're lacking some commonality anymore.
It's supposed to be 104 degrees in Boise today. I'll likely wilt like a flower, don't you think?
August 11, 2004
Camping, Again
Since Tuesday is actually my Friday, what with working on the regular weekend and all, Matt and I decided to take an impromptu camping trip. We headed up into the Payette National Forest, which surrounds the town of McCall and points north.
I'd never been to Hazard Lake before. As we were leaving, my friend Julie said, "Consider the name. Y ou really want to camp there?" Julie isn't an outdoor person. Three hundred thousand acres of the Payette Forest burned during the Blackwell/Chicken Complex fires of 1994. Ten years later, things are still looking a little bombed out, but little trees are coming up all over and flowers are in abundance.
We camped at the trailhead to Scribner Lake last night. Neither of us had been there before, so we got up this morning to hike in and fish it. The lake is "a Monet"--beautiful from a distance, but up close it's a mess. It was absolutely full of weeds and I'm not sure there was a single fish in it.
Scribner Lake
I'd never been to Hazard Lake before. As we were leaving, my friend Julie said, "Consider the name. Y ou really want to camp there?" Julie isn't an outdoor person. Three hundred thousand acres of the Payette Forest burned during the Blackwell/Chicken Complex fires of 1994. Ten years later, things are still looking a little bombed out, but little trees are coming up all over and flowers are in abundance.
We camped at the trailhead to Scribner Lake last night. Neither of us had been there before, so we got up this morning to hike in and fish it. The lake is "a Monet"--beautiful from a distance, but up close it's a mess. It was absolutely full of weeds and I'm not sure there was a single fish in it.
Scribner Lake
After leaving Scribner Lake, we went to Hazard Lake and fished a while. Matt had a few solid bites, but I ran into my usual trouble. I can't tie a decent fishing knot to save my life, so after I lost a couple of lures, I turned in my fishing rod and just hung out with the dogs. We eventually wound up at Granite Lake, which is a really pretty medium-sized reservoir.
You'll likely never run into an English Springer Spaniel that doesn't like the water. That's just a gross understatement when it comes to our younger dog, Grover. I think he's part fish.
Grover Makes a Splash
You'll likely never run into an English Springer Spaniel that doesn't like the water. That's just a gross understatement when it comes to our younger dog, Grover. I think he's part fish.
Grover Makes a Splash
August 10, 2004
What a Story
A friend of mine recently attended a funeral for a young lady who died of cancer. At her funeral, they played a Hawaiian version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," a song I remember hearing at the end of the ER episode where Dr. Green dies.
Another friend mentioned that the song was performed by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, and that the song was made even more poignant by the fact that the singer died at a young age himself. I had to put his name into Windows Media and listen to the song again, then I looked up his obituary.
Do yourself a favor--track down a copy of the song and listen, then do a little research about him.
Another friend mentioned that the song was performed by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, and that the song was made even more poignant by the fact that the singer died at a young age himself. I had to put his name into Windows Media and listen to the song again, then I looked up his obituary.
Do yourself a favor--track down a copy of the song and listen, then do a little research about him.
August 09, 2004
Roaring Springs
I've got a girlfriend coming down to visit from Anchorage later this week. When I say coming down to visit, that means that she'll be within 85 miles of me, so of course I'll be going to see her. She and a few other girls and I all used to run around together when we all worked in the same building in Boise. We were all a little more wild and wooly in those days, and I know I was about 15 lbs. lighter.
So it was something of a surprise to me when she e-mailed us all and said, "Why don't we all go to the water park?" Why? I couldn't believe she asked why. How about:
Because the elastic in my swimsuit bottom no longer clings to my bottom.
Because it costs $23 to get into the park and no one will ride the slides with me.
Because the rest of you have small children and I don't want to hang out in a urine-soaked kiddie pool all day.
But you know, I didn't say a word. I figured I could hack it for my dear friend who I only get to see once a year or so. And you know what? Someone else spoke up instead and now we're just having a barbeque instead. Praise Jaysus! Say 'hallelujah'! And pass the potato salad.
So it was something of a surprise to me when she e-mailed us all and said, "Why don't we all go to the water park?" Why? I couldn't believe she asked why. How about:
Because the elastic in my swimsuit bottom no longer clings to my bottom.
Because it costs $23 to get into the park and no one will ride the slides with me.
Because the rest of you have small children and I don't want to hang out in a urine-soaked kiddie pool all day.
But you know, I didn't say a word. I figured I could hack it for my dear friend who I only get to see once a year or so. And you know what? Someone else spoke up instead and now we're just having a barbeque instead. Praise Jaysus! Say 'hallelujah'! And pass the potato salad.
The Most Romantic Story of All Time
Matt bought me "Cold Mountain" on DVD the other day. I have now read the book once and seen the movie twice, and I'd say that qualifies me to judge it the most romantic story I've ever known.
It just kills me. Every time... Each time I watch it I'm hoping that somehow Inman is going to...well, I'd probably better not spoil it for anyone who may not have seen it yet.
Anyone care to post what they think the most romantic movie of all time is? (In those rare cases where you don't agree with me 100%.)
It just kills me. Every time... Each time I watch it I'm hoping that somehow Inman is going to...well, I'd probably better not spoil it for anyone who may not have seen it yet.
Anyone care to post what they think the most romantic movie of all time is? (In those rare cases where you don't agree with me 100%.)
August 07, 2004
*Beam* :-D
You all remember the grassroots movement to send wedding bouquets to gay couples getting married in San Fransisco? Well, there's a guy making a movie about it.
Gives me a warm fuzzy, I tell ya. Shamlessly pilfered from Erica.
Gives me a warm fuzzy, I tell ya. Shamlessly pilfered from Erica.
Mrs. Michael Jackson
I just spent more time than I should have watching part of VH1's "Man in the Mirror," a special about the life of Michael Jackson. Apparently the actor playing Michael didn't want to go through the painful surgery of having his nose disappear, because he's got a notably larger proboscis than the real Michael Jackson currently does.
What sucked me in to the show was a reference made to the Jehovah's Witnesses, which I was a member of for the first 21 years of my life. When I was nine years old and MJ's album "Thriller" was at the apex of it's chart climb, I was dead-level certain that I was going to marry him one day. I mean, we were both Jehovah's Witnesses, right? What more could two people need in order to have a successful marriage? That was my theory at age nine, and is still the theory of JW's the world over. As long as you have your faith, it doesn't matter how bad your other problems are. God (aka, Jehovah) will take care of it all for you. Cancer? No problem! Even if you die, Jehovah will resurrect you after he gets done killing off all the bad people. I was seven years old when my mother told me that God was going to kill my non-believing father. Not a cool way to grow up, so it's not really a surprise to me that Michael Jackson turned to a fantasy world of his own creation after living in a fantasy world of someone else's creation for so long.
Anyway, you've probably realized by now that I'm not married, nor have I ever been, to Michael Jackson. Boy howdy, did I dodge a bullet there...
What sucked me in to the show was a reference made to the Jehovah's Witnesses, which I was a member of for the first 21 years of my life. When I was nine years old and MJ's album "Thriller" was at the apex of it's chart climb, I was dead-level certain that I was going to marry him one day. I mean, we were both Jehovah's Witnesses, right? What more could two people need in order to have a successful marriage? That was my theory at age nine, and is still the theory of JW's the world over. As long as you have your faith, it doesn't matter how bad your other problems are. God (aka, Jehovah) will take care of it all for you. Cancer? No problem! Even if you die, Jehovah will resurrect you after he gets done killing off all the bad people. I was seven years old when my mother told me that God was going to kill my non-believing father. Not a cool way to grow up, so it's not really a surprise to me that Michael Jackson turned to a fantasy world of his own creation after living in a fantasy world of someone else's creation for so long.
Anyway, you've probably realized by now that I'm not married, nor have I ever been, to Michael Jackson. Boy howdy, did I dodge a bullet there...
August 06, 2004
A Little Poem for You All
A poem of Bushisms put together by a Washington Post writer. http://www.snopes.com/politics/bush/piehigher.asp
MAKE THE PIE HIGHERby George W. Bush
I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It's a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.
Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?
They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.
Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!
MAKE THE PIE HIGHERby George W. Bush
I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It's a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.
Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?
They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.
Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!
*Cry*
Things were just getting interesting between Adam Levine (from Maroon 5) and I when my alarm went off this morning. Life is so damned unfair!
August 05, 2004
My New TV Thrill
Is anyone else watching Bravo's Things I Hate About You? It's kind of a reality/game show where they take a couple who have been together for a while, and then videotape them going about their days. Each person in the couple identifies several things that drive them up a wall about their mate, it all gets taped, and then it's reviewed by a panel of judges who gets to decide who the more annoying person in the couple is. Fascinating stuff, and Matt and I keep identifying with different people on the show. I yell at other drivers in traffic and often "shoot the bird" out my sunroof (it's so annoying and painful when I forget that the sunroof isn't open). He tends to talk in a goofy little language that is often funny, but is also often annoying.
Anyway, they had this one lady on there last week that drove me crazy. Her big thing was putting Splenda on damn near everything she ate. I'm talking salads here, people. She'd reach into her purse, whip out two or three packages, and dump them all over a chicken caeser. *hork* In one scene, she noticed a waiter looking at her out of the corner of his eye and she confronted him and said, "Hey, it's what I like. What's that saying...don't yuck my yum?" I'm sorry, but what the fuck saying is that? I've never heard it in my life. I think it was something her nutjob little pea brain came up with to justify a truly bizzare compulsion. Don't yuck my...I'll yuck your! Freak!!!
Anyway, they had this one lady on there last week that drove me crazy. Her big thing was putting Splenda on damn near everything she ate. I'm talking salads here, people. She'd reach into her purse, whip out two or three packages, and dump them all over a chicken caeser. *hork* In one scene, she noticed a waiter looking at her out of the corner of his eye and she confronted him and said, "Hey, it's what I like. What's that saying...don't yuck my yum?" I'm sorry, but what the fuck saying is that? I've never heard it in my life. I think it was something her nutjob little pea brain came up with to justify a truly bizzare compulsion. Don't yuck my...I'll yuck your! Freak!!!
I Shalt Too Covet
This is one of my favorite skin designs ever. No surprise that it was done by one of the talented girls over at Blog Moxie. I can't wait until I can afford to have Mel do another design for me. I'm so happy with the one that I currently have, but I am starting to think it's time for a change. Something autumnal, perhaps?
August 04, 2004
Wednesday Ramblings
I'm home with the dogs for the next couple of days while Matt is at the Idaho Conservation Officer's Association annual meeting. I let him take my car, which gets much better gas mileage than his Nissan Frontier pickup. He called me from Twin Falls about an hour ago and said, "Guess what I did?" I was thinking my car was wrecked, since I couldn't make heads or tails out of his tone. I gave up quickly and he said, "I bought a Titan!" A Titan is Nissan's new full-size pickup, and the thing that Matthew most covets in the whole, wide world. He was planning on stopping at the dealership, that I knew, but I had no idea he'd end up with a new truck, particularly since his Frontier is sitting in our driveway. My first reaction was, "What did you do with my car?" My little baby car is going to sit at the auto dealer while Matt drives his new truck to the three-day meeting (in Jackpot, Nevada, which is why I chose to stay home--108 degrees and me don't mix). Matt will then stop in Twin Falls on his way home, switch vehicles at the dealership, and drive mine home. Then he'll drive his "old" truck to Boise, replace the windshield as promised to the dealer, and switch trucks again in Twin Falls. Complicated, eh? And the only bad part of all of it was at the end of the conversation when he said, "Thanks for not being mean to me about it." Wha? I can't figure out why he'd think I would be mean about it--his payments are going to be less on the new, full-size truck than they are on the smaller one. That's not a problem. He's only been talking about getting a Titan since they first came out. I don't get it...
Grover's ears seem to be getting a little better. He doesn't seem as uncomfortable as he was a few days ago. I get to try giving him his ear medicine tonight. Bleah.
Not much else going on. If I'm quiet, it's because my friggin' internet connection/modem/karma is going bad and I'm having a hell of a time staying online.
Grover's ears seem to be getting a little better. He doesn't seem as uncomfortable as he was a few days ago. I get to try giving him his ear medicine tonight. Bleah.
Not much else going on. If I'm quiet, it's because my friggin' internet connection/modem/karma is going bad and I'm having a hell of a time staying online.
August 02, 2004
Day Ten: All the Way Home
(I decided to just go ahead and post Day Ten, since it's a quick one and then we'll be all wrapped up.)
We woke up rather late on Day Ten (7:00, which is pretty late considering the birds and squirrels had been up for hours already). We broke camp and headed across the rest of Oregon. I know I mentioned it before, but there's really nothing good to see along this route besides the Shoe Tree.
We hit Boise around noon and did some quick grocery shopping and then met my dad after lunch. Dad's birthday was on the 20th, and so we were on the road and didn't get to celebrate with him. I had, however, found a great present for him in Port Orford, Oregon early in the trip. My paternal grandfather was full-blooded Norwegian and my grandmother was about 3/4. My dad has anger management problems, and so that's why I bought him a t-shirt from the restaurant pictured below:
A Crazy Norwegian at The Crazy Norwegian's
He loved it. We hit Highway 55 and made it back to Home Sweet Home at early evening. The dogs had had a wonderful time with the dog-sitter, who taught them to ride in both a canoe and a sea kayak. Two springer spaniels and a sea kayak sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, but she said they only tipped her once.
In summary, our vacation was really memorable and provided us the relaxation we really needed. I hope you guys liked hearing about it and that it wasn't like your Uncle Biff's vacation slide shows when you were growing up. Maybe it gave you a few ideas for a trip of your own!
We woke up rather late on Day Ten (7:00, which is pretty late considering the birds and squirrels had been up for hours already). We broke camp and headed across the rest of Oregon. I know I mentioned it before, but there's really nothing good to see along this route besides the Shoe Tree.
We hit Boise around noon and did some quick grocery shopping and then met my dad after lunch. Dad's birthday was on the 20th, and so we were on the road and didn't get to celebrate with him. I had, however, found a great present for him in Port Orford, Oregon early in the trip. My paternal grandfather was full-blooded Norwegian and my grandmother was about 3/4. My dad has anger management problems, and so that's why I bought him a t-shirt from the restaurant pictured below:
A Crazy Norwegian at The Crazy Norwegian's
He loved it. We hit Highway 55 and made it back to Home Sweet Home at early evening. The dogs had had a wonderful time with the dog-sitter, who taught them to ride in both a canoe and a sea kayak. Two springer spaniels and a sea kayak sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, but she said they only tipped her once.
In summary, our vacation was really memorable and provided us the relaxation we really needed. I hope you guys liked hearing about it and that it wasn't like your Uncle Biff's vacation slide shows when you were growing up. Maybe it gave you a few ideas for a trip of your own!
Day Nine: The Road to Home
We bid a fond goodbye to Lassen NP on the morning of Day Nine. Sadly, there really wasn't a lodge to speak of, so we were forced to eat granola and yogurt for breakfast at our campsite. The drive through northeastern California was nice for a while--you could see both Mount Shasta and Lassen Peak from a number of vantages and there were some cute little timber towns along the route that reminded me a lot of Cascade.
We hit ranch country about midday and found ourselves in the town of Bieber, California. It's a very small, unscenic town. The only thing that makes it notable is its sister-town about six miles away: Nubieber. That's right, not "New Bieber," but "Nubieber." I guess they thought the first one was so good that they needed a nu-er version. We had rollicksome fun making Bieber remarks. Sample conversation:
Casey: What do you think the Bieber Joint School District mascot is?
Matt: The Beavers.
Casey: I wonder if when the towns finally grow together they'll call it Bieberopolis.
Matt: Maybe once it reaches perfection they'll call it Biebertopia.
We subsequently went through the town of Lakeview, Oregon, which appears to be at least 200 miles from anywhere else, including the Biebers. There's a sawmill there, some farms, lots of hayfields, and a Forest Service and BLM office. But I just can't fathom how far they are from a CostCo. I thought Cascade was isolated.
The rest of the drive through Oregon was ugly and uninteresting. We made it to Burns that night and decided to drive north of town to a campsite Rand McNally showed in the atlas. We were very pleasantly surprised at how nice it is, considering what an armpit Burns is. Our second-to-last picture of the trip shows my little car (a Toyota Matrix, if you were wondering) parked in front of our campsite. We had a great hike that night after dinner and felt a little sad at spending our last night sleeping in the tent, believe it or not.
The Weary Road Wagon
We hit ranch country about midday and found ourselves in the town of Bieber, California. It's a very small, unscenic town. The only thing that makes it notable is its sister-town about six miles away: Nubieber. That's right, not "New Bieber," but "Nubieber." I guess they thought the first one was so good that they needed a nu-er version. We had rollicksome fun making Bieber remarks. Sample conversation:
Casey: What do you think the Bieber Joint School District mascot is?
Matt: The Beavers.
Casey: I wonder if when the towns finally grow together they'll call it Bieberopolis.
Matt: Maybe once it reaches perfection they'll call it Biebertopia.
We subsequently went through the town of Lakeview, Oregon, which appears to be at least 200 miles from anywhere else, including the Biebers. There's a sawmill there, some farms, lots of hayfields, and a Forest Service and BLM office. But I just can't fathom how far they are from a CostCo. I thought Cascade was isolated.
The rest of the drive through Oregon was ugly and uninteresting. We made it to Burns that night and decided to drive north of town to a campsite Rand McNally showed in the atlas. We were very pleasantly surprised at how nice it is, considering what an armpit Burns is. Our second-to-last picture of the trip shows my little car (a Toyota Matrix, if you were wondering) parked in front of our campsite. We had a great hike that night after dinner and felt a little sad at spending our last night sleeping in the tent, believe it or not.
The Weary Road Wagon
July 31, 2004
Day Eight: Lassen Volcanic National Park
If you haven't yet been to Lassen Volcanic National Park, you need to pack your bags and git. Git! That is, you need to go if you're the same kind of camper I am. I hate, loathe and abhore National Parks that are crammed full of people. I may never set foot in Yellowstone again because of all the people. But Lassen isn't like that at all. You've got amazing scenery (even the pictures without me in them are pretty good), lots of hiking, uncrowded campgrounds, and friendly people. In fact, I'd say Lassen was the friendliest park I've been in yet as far as the park employees, concessionaires and other campers go.
That's Lassen Peak and That's My Orange Shirt
Our first stop was the visitor center/gift shop (nothing new about that) and then we set out to find a campsite. We arrived at Summit North campground and found a terrific tent site near a little pond. Then we went looking for a hike. Our plan was to go to Bumpass Hell, largely due to the name. Believe it or not, it was actually named after a guy who fell into one of the boiling mudpots down there and badly burned his leg. How 'bout that. Anyway, we were disappointed when the trail was still closed due to slippery snowbanks on the route. Guess that's what happens when you're 7,000 feet above sea level in July. We settled for a hike to Shadow Lake, which was pretty dang nice of its ownself.
Lassen was declared a National Park in 1916 after Lassen Peak erupted and kept right on erupting. In fact, it was quite active from 1915-1917. Things are quiet now, and you can check out all kinds of nifty lakes, mountain peaks and volcanic features. I very highly recommend it as a great place to visit.
That's Lassen Peak and That's My Orange Shirt
Our first stop was the visitor center/gift shop (nothing new about that) and then we set out to find a campsite. We arrived at Summit North campground and found a terrific tent site near a little pond. Then we went looking for a hike. Our plan was to go to Bumpass Hell, largely due to the name. Believe it or not, it was actually named after a guy who fell into one of the boiling mudpots down there and badly burned his leg. How 'bout that. Anyway, we were disappointed when the trail was still closed due to slippery snowbanks on the route. Guess that's what happens when you're 7,000 feet above sea level in July. We settled for a hike to Shadow Lake, which was pretty dang nice of its ownself.
Lassen was declared a National Park in 1916 after Lassen Peak erupted and kept right on erupting. In fact, it was quite active from 1915-1917. Things are quiet now, and you can check out all kinds of nifty lakes, mountain peaks and volcanic features. I very highly recommend it as a great place to visit.
July 30, 2004
You Had to Know That Was Coming
You Are Big Black Boots!You can be best described as: attitudeYou've got lots of it - and you love to give it A guy has to be pretty gutsy to hit on you But if he's your type, you'll warm up... a little What Shoe Are You? Take This Quiz :-)  |
Kind of via Mia, who, if she were a porn star would be Tera Patrick.
Day Seven: Halfway Across California
We woke on the morning of Day Seven to a rain shower in the redwoods. You could hear that it was raining really hard, but so little rain was reaching the ground due to the heavy overstory. All of the banana slugs had disappeared from our campsite, so we weren't able to say goodbye to Flash and Squiggy. Life's like that sometimes.
Strangely enough, a girlfriend of mine from Boise was in her hometown of Arcata, visiting her father. We had plans to meet up with her for lunch, so we took camp down quickly and headed to the campground showers. It was there that I discovered that Millcreek Campground did not supply electricity to the bathrooms, and it was subsequently there that I discovered that the alternating-current plug in on my car will not power a blow-dryer. Dammitalltohell!!!
We had a great lunch in Arcata at a place called Mizotti's. Right outside of the restaurant is the town square, which is where all the kids from Humbolt State University go to buy their pot. I should be fair and say this is where all the drop-outs from HSU go to buy their pot. I was a little surprised, being an innocent Idaho flower. I'm not completely without urban graces, but damn, these kids were baked!
Anyway, Matt and I were very excited because we were pretty sure the Humbolt State University mascot was the banana slug, so after lunch we wound up at the HSU bookstore. We were ready to invest in some serious Banana Slug paraphernalia: sweatshirts, visors, bumper stickers, bongs (just kidding). Turns out HSU is the home of the friggin' Lumberjacks! Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it, and it wasn't until we got home that we learned it is actually the University of California, Santa Cruz.
Arcata is where we started crossing east across California towards home, so we said goodbye to the ocean and headed for that night's stop in Redding (go Motel 6). Along the way, you pass through Willow Creek, California, which is where the famous "real" film of Bigfoot walking along a riverbed was filmed. Cryptozoologists (those in the know about things that might not actually exist) swear that no human being could walk in the same way this Bigfoot was walking on the film, so it must be true. Plus, you couldn't see a zipper anywhere on the hairy suit, and that lent credence.
Sadly, the Bigfoot Museum was closed, due to it being Monday. I guess there aren't many true believers on the highway on Mondays. Poor Matt was pretty devastated, as it has been a childhood dream of his to visit all the Bigfoot sites that he possibly can. He had to content himself with the picture below.
Hey There, Did You Know I Had a Bigfoot Friend?
Strangely enough, a girlfriend of mine from Boise was in her hometown of Arcata, visiting her father. We had plans to meet up with her for lunch, so we took camp down quickly and headed to the campground showers. It was there that I discovered that Millcreek Campground did not supply electricity to the bathrooms, and it was subsequently there that I discovered that the alternating-current plug in on my car will not power a blow-dryer. Dammitalltohell!!!
We had a great lunch in Arcata at a place called Mizotti's. Right outside of the restaurant is the town square, which is where all the kids from Humbolt State University go to buy their pot. I should be fair and say this is where all the drop-outs from HSU go to buy their pot. I was a little surprised, being an innocent Idaho flower. I'm not completely without urban graces, but damn, these kids were baked!
Anyway, Matt and I were very excited because we were pretty sure the Humbolt State University mascot was the banana slug, so after lunch we wound up at the HSU bookstore. We were ready to invest in some serious Banana Slug paraphernalia: sweatshirts, visors, bumper stickers, bongs (just kidding). Turns out HSU is the home of the friggin' Lumberjacks! Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it, and it wasn't until we got home that we learned it is actually the University of California, Santa Cruz.
Arcata is where we started crossing east across California towards home, so we said goodbye to the ocean and headed for that night's stop in Redding (go Motel 6). Along the way, you pass through Willow Creek, California, which is where the famous "real" film of Bigfoot walking along a riverbed was filmed. Cryptozoologists (those in the know about things that might not actually exist) swear that no human being could walk in the same way this Bigfoot was walking on the film, so it must be true. Plus, you couldn't see a zipper anywhere on the hairy suit, and that lent credence.
Sadly, the Bigfoot Museum was closed, due to it being Monday. I guess there aren't many true believers on the highway on Mondays. Poor Matt was pretty devastated, as it has been a childhood dream of his to visit all the Bigfoot sites that he possibly can. He had to content himself with the picture below.
Hey There, Did You Know I Had a Bigfoot Friend?
July 28, 2004
Day Six: Giants of the Forest
It is extremely difficult to put the Redwoods National Park experience into words. The best we could come up with was, "Whoa." Eloquent, I know. But when you're standing underneath the largest living organism you've ever seen in your entire life, words sort of escape you.
Our first stop was Jedediah Smith State Park, a really godawful campsite, but with an amazing stand of redwoods nearby. The Stout Grove is about 44 acres of some of the largest, oldest redwoods in the world.
Looking Up--Waaay Up
As I stood there with my hand on the bark of a tree that was probably 1500 years old and 20 feet in diameter, I thought to myself, "I wonder what they think of mankind as a species. Have they even noticed us? Or do they wish we'd just go away?" Regardless of the answer, I quit feeling like mankind might be the pinnacle of creation, the neatest trick evolution had produced so far. I was nothing underneath those trees--merely a gnat, a speck.
Maybe it's my Anglo-Norse nature-worshipping legacy catching up with me, but I think I could get behind a religion that adored trees like these. None of this Judeo-Christian stuff for me: give me Gaia.
Matt dragged me out of the grove by the hand and made sure I didn't trip over anything on the way out. Looking up at redwoods gives you a real neck ache, and if you're like me you eat a lot of mosquitos because your jaw has dropped and you can't seem to regain control.
Our campsite was just down the road at Del Norte State Park. This was probably the best campsite of our trip. Each tent site is surrounded by high foliage and trees. Best of all, the place is practically overrun with banana slugs. They look a lot like their namesake. They're bright yellow, tube-like, and don't move very fast--all qualities commonly associated with bananas. We had at least four at our campsite, two of which we named Flash and Squiggy. We tried to get them to race, but didn't have very good results. Banana slug racing is a lot like watching paint dry and I don't think it's going to catch on.
We took an after dinner walk on the loop trail surrounding the campground. We were looking for Bigfoot, who has been rumored to frequent the area, but we were the only hairy bipeds to be found. It was just us and the banana slugs out there.
Our first stop was Jedediah Smith State Park, a really godawful campsite, but with an amazing stand of redwoods nearby. The Stout Grove is about 44 acres of some of the largest, oldest redwoods in the world.
Looking Up--Waaay Up
As I stood there with my hand on the bark of a tree that was probably 1500 years old and 20 feet in diameter, I thought to myself, "I wonder what they think of mankind as a species. Have they even noticed us? Or do they wish we'd just go away?" Regardless of the answer, I quit feeling like mankind might be the pinnacle of creation, the neatest trick evolution had produced so far. I was nothing underneath those trees--merely a gnat, a speck.
Maybe it's my Anglo-Norse nature-worshipping legacy catching up with me, but I think I could get behind a religion that adored trees like these. None of this Judeo-Christian stuff for me: give me Gaia.
Matt dragged me out of the grove by the hand and made sure I didn't trip over anything on the way out. Looking up at redwoods gives you a real neck ache, and if you're like me you eat a lot of mosquitos because your jaw has dropped and you can't seem to regain control.
Our campsite was just down the road at Del Norte State Park. This was probably the best campsite of our trip. Each tent site is surrounded by high foliage and trees. Best of all, the place is practically overrun with banana slugs. They look a lot like their namesake. They're bright yellow, tube-like, and don't move very fast--all qualities commonly associated with bananas. We had at least four at our campsite, two of which we named Flash and Squiggy. We tried to get them to race, but didn't have very good results. Banana slug racing is a lot like watching paint dry and I don't think it's going to catch on.
We took an after dinner walk on the loop trail surrounding the campground. We were looking for Bigfoot, who has been rumored to frequent the area, but we were the only hairy bipeds to be found. It was just us and the banana slugs out there.
July 27, 2004
Dude, Grover is Stoned
Poor little baby dog! Grover has been shaking his head for over a week now and we finally got around to taking him to the vet. We figured he'd got a grass seed in one of his big, fuzzy ears. Wrong. Turns out our dog has abnormally small ear canals--like the size of pencil lead. The vet actually had to anesthatize him to clean his ears out, so now Grove is staggering around the house running into things.
Springers have lots of ear issues, mainly because their ears are so long and heavy. They get disgusting infections all the time and you (and when I say "you" in our household I'm talking about Matt, not me) have to clean the ears out often to avoid it. Matt has been doing an admirable job of it, but it turns out that lots of icky muck was getting down near his ear drum.
As Chris will tell you (apropos of a recent comment I made to him), I am thoroughly grossed out by cleaning dogs' ears. It is right up there with sewage pumping as far as I am concerned. It's a vile, revolting, nasty business. And the vet referred to Grover's ear goo as being, "Packed in there like concrete." I think I just threw up a little thinking about it. But to get his ears as clean as we need to, I'm going to have to start participating. *cry*
So our little guy might need to have an operation to get his aural canals enlarged so that he doesn't get horrible infections and potential deafness. Poor little doggy!
Springers have lots of ear issues, mainly because their ears are so long and heavy. They get disgusting infections all the time and you (and when I say "you" in our household I'm talking about Matt, not me) have to clean the ears out often to avoid it. Matt has been doing an admirable job of it, but it turns out that lots of icky muck was getting down near his ear drum.
As Chris will tell you (apropos of a recent comment I made to him), I am thoroughly grossed out by cleaning dogs' ears. It is right up there with sewage pumping as far as I am concerned. It's a vile, revolting, nasty business. And the vet referred to Grover's ear goo as being, "Packed in there like concrete." I think I just threw up a little thinking about it. But to get his ears as clean as we need to, I'm going to have to start participating. *cry*
So our little guy might need to have an operation to get his aural canals enlarged so that he doesn't get horrible infections and potential deafness. Poor little doggy!
Day Five: Cetaceans & Pinnipeds
Day 5 saw us more than ready to get out of Bullard's Beach State Park and on the road. We didn't have far to travel: our campsite that night was only about 70 miles south, so we took our time seeing the sights.
We hit scenic Highway 101, aka the Pacific Coast Highway. It's well known throughout California and Oregon, as it rarely gets more than about 5 miles east of the ocean at any spot. Our first stop (and arguably the best one of the trip) was at Cape Blanco State Park. The park boasts a lighthouse, which you can tour for $4/person. Again, that seemed a little touristy and it was too foggy to get a good view, so we skipped it. But behold:
Cape Blanco Lighthouse
We drove through the park and found a terrific little campground (too bad we already had reservations elsewhere), and walked to the beach from there. Visibility was in and out, but as we were walking up the beach, Matt spotted a flipper rising from the water a hundred yards or so out from shore. We both got very excited, thinking maybe there was a porpoise or something fishing. Then we saw another huge flipper, and suddenly a giant fluked tail slipping beneath the surface and realized that what we were looking at was much bigger than a porpoise. It was a small pod of California Grey Whales!!! It looked to us like the pod was feeding, because you'd see a spurt from the blowhole, a substantial stretch of back and maybe a flipper, and then the tail. They stayed in the same area for nearly 15 minutes. I got excited and took several pictures, but never at the right time. I could show you, but it wouldn't be worth the space. Whales are very difficult to photograph, I think. And as we stood there watching, a seal poked its head out of the waves between the whales and us. Malia could say for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was a harbor seal.
The whales left us and visibility faded, so we returned to the car very excited and raving about what a privilege it was to see real, live whales out doing what whales do. We tried to figure out what kind of mountain wildlife sighting here in Idaho that it could compare to, and decided that it was like seeing wolves in the woods. They're an elusive population and it's rare to see them, they're a species in danger, and they're really not that afraid of humans. It was just amazing.
Our drive took us to Gold Beach, Oregon, which is where the Rogue River meets the ocean. Salmon season was in full swing, and we could see boat after boat near the river's mouth. We stopped to watch, and Matt was able to count 85 separate boats in the half-mile stretch of river between the ocean jetty and the river bridge. While we watched, what looked like a very graceful, very overstuffed sack of fat swam through the boats. It was a sea lion, and he was out fishing. You could tell the fishermen were getting agitated, as the critter was likely chasing the salmon and baitfish all over the place. The sea lion cavorted about for quite a while, then disappeared from view, presumably to enjoy his dinner.
It was a great day. Unfortunately, the night was not so good. Our campsite at Harris Beach State Park was much prettier and closer to the beach than our site the night before, and things started off well. However, a group of campers moved in two sites away from us at about 10:30 that night. It's not a good sign when folks show up that late. It means they're going to have their headlights on to set up the tent, then they're going to raise hell cooking and eating dinner. These people were beyond all of that. They had a new puppy that barked in a very shrill and repetitive manner and they never did anything about it. This pup literally barked for an hour straight. They performed the requisite "Stomp" reprise while making dinner, banging their pots with wild abandon. And just as we thought they'd settled down, the kids started skateboarding. At midnight. I was asleep through parts of this; I could sleep through a brass band much of the time. Matt, however, is another story. My sleeping bag and I horizontally levitated about a foot off the ground from fright when Matt finally bellowed, "It's after midnight! You need to quiet down!" Wasn't quite prepared for that, but it was worth it because a young voice called out, "Sorry!" and not another peep was heard out of them all night. I woke up the next morning to a very grouchy husband, though.
We hit scenic Highway 101, aka the Pacific Coast Highway. It's well known throughout California and Oregon, as it rarely gets more than about 5 miles east of the ocean at any spot. Our first stop (and arguably the best one of the trip) was at Cape Blanco State Park. The park boasts a lighthouse, which you can tour for $4/person. Again, that seemed a little touristy and it was too foggy to get a good view, so we skipped it. But behold:
Cape Blanco Lighthouse
We drove through the park and found a terrific little campground (too bad we already had reservations elsewhere), and walked to the beach from there. Visibility was in and out, but as we were walking up the beach, Matt spotted a flipper rising from the water a hundred yards or so out from shore. We both got very excited, thinking maybe there was a porpoise or something fishing. Then we saw another huge flipper, and suddenly a giant fluked tail slipping beneath the surface and realized that what we were looking at was much bigger than a porpoise. It was a small pod of California Grey Whales!!! It looked to us like the pod was feeding, because you'd see a spurt from the blowhole, a substantial stretch of back and maybe a flipper, and then the tail. They stayed in the same area for nearly 15 minutes. I got excited and took several pictures, but never at the right time. I could show you, but it wouldn't be worth the space. Whales are very difficult to photograph, I think. And as we stood there watching, a seal poked its head out of the waves between the whales and us. Malia could say for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was a harbor seal.
The whales left us and visibility faded, so we returned to the car very excited and raving about what a privilege it was to see real, live whales out doing what whales do. We tried to figure out what kind of mountain wildlife sighting here in Idaho that it could compare to, and decided that it was like seeing wolves in the woods. They're an elusive population and it's rare to see them, they're a species in danger, and they're really not that afraid of humans. It was just amazing.
Our drive took us to Gold Beach, Oregon, which is where the Rogue River meets the ocean. Salmon season was in full swing, and we could see boat after boat near the river's mouth. We stopped to watch, and Matt was able to count 85 separate boats in the half-mile stretch of river between the ocean jetty and the river bridge. While we watched, what looked like a very graceful, very overstuffed sack of fat swam through the boats. It was a sea lion, and he was out fishing. You could tell the fishermen were getting agitated, as the critter was likely chasing the salmon and baitfish all over the place. The sea lion cavorted about for quite a while, then disappeared from view, presumably to enjoy his dinner.
It was a great day. Unfortunately, the night was not so good. Our campsite at Harris Beach State Park was much prettier and closer to the beach than our site the night before, and things started off well. However, a group of campers moved in two sites away from us at about 10:30 that night. It's not a good sign when folks show up that late. It means they're going to have their headlights on to set up the tent, then they're going to raise hell cooking and eating dinner. These people were beyond all of that. They had a new puppy that barked in a very shrill and repetitive manner and they never did anything about it. This pup literally barked for an hour straight. They performed the requisite "Stomp" reprise while making dinner, banging their pots with wild abandon. And just as we thought they'd settled down, the kids started skateboarding. At midnight. I was asleep through parts of this; I could sleep through a brass band much of the time. Matt, however, is another story. My sleeping bag and I horizontally levitated about a foot off the ground from fright when Matt finally bellowed, "It's after midnight! You need to quiet down!" Wasn't quite prepared for that, but it was worth it because a young voice called out, "Sorry!" and not another peep was heard out of them all night. I woke up the next morning to a very grouchy husband, though.
Addendum to Day Four: Tokeetee Falls
Tokeetee Falls
Ooo and ahh at your leisure. We guessed the falls to be about 60 feet high from the pool to the top.
July 26, 2004
Day Four: To the Coast!
Day Four found us freshly showered and stuffing our gobs full of breakfast at the Crater Lake Lodge once again. We left the park fairly early because we both had a yen to see the ocean.
We had reservations that night at Bullards Beach State Park. The Oregon State Parks webpage describes it thusly: "Bullards Beach is a large, family-oriented park located just two miles north of Bandon. The campground is nestled among shore pines and well protected from the strong ocean breezes. " If you throw in a public relations filter, family-oriented means that it is absolutely crammed to the gills with people, and well protected from the strong ocean breezes means that you're a 3/4 mile hike through sand dunes before you even get a look at the beach. It was kind of a ghetto.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. On our drive out of the park, we went through a big section of the Umpqua National Forest. We pulled off the highway at a sign that said, "Clearwater Falls," mainly as a bathroom break, but also to check out some of the sights. So glad we did!
Clearwater Falls
We continued on to yet another beautiful waterfall, Tokeetee Falls. I have a picture, but I'm dumb with this Picasa software and may just have to post it seperately.
As mentioned above, our campground was close to the touristy little town of Bandon. It was while wandering around through the scenic downtown that I was struck with Traveller's Discomfort. Thirty minutes and a stiff slug of Pepto-Bismol later, and all was restored. We returned to our campsite where we learned that we were camped next to what Guiness would probably describe as The Woman With the World's Most Carrying Voice. It wasn't that she was speaking loudly, exactly, but that her voice just projected so far. She and her group got jiggy with Lynrd Skynrd's Greatest Hits until about 8:30 that night, all the while bragging about the 200 crabs they'd caught so far. I assume they meant Dungeness, rather than genital.
Interestingly, the Oregon State Parks all have a requisite "Wash Your Hands to Avoid Disease" sign on the inside doors of the bathrooms. More interestingly, they don't provide soap at any of their bathrooms. Scare tactics!
We had reservations that night at Bullards Beach State Park. The Oregon State Parks webpage describes it thusly: "Bullards Beach is a large, family-oriented park located just two miles north of Bandon. The campground is nestled among shore pines and well protected from the strong ocean breezes. " If you throw in a public relations filter, family-oriented means that it is absolutely crammed to the gills with people, and well protected from the strong ocean breezes means that you're a 3/4 mile hike through sand dunes before you even get a look at the beach. It was kind of a ghetto.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. On our drive out of the park, we went through a big section of the Umpqua National Forest. We pulled off the highway at a sign that said, "Clearwater Falls," mainly as a bathroom break, but also to check out some of the sights. So glad we did!
Clearwater Falls
We continued on to yet another beautiful waterfall, Tokeetee Falls. I have a picture, but I'm dumb with this Picasa software and may just have to post it seperately.
As mentioned above, our campground was close to the touristy little town of Bandon. It was while wandering around through the scenic downtown that I was struck with Traveller's Discomfort. Thirty minutes and a stiff slug of Pepto-Bismol later, and all was restored. We returned to our campsite where we learned that we were camped next to what Guiness would probably describe as The Woman With the World's Most Carrying Voice. It wasn't that she was speaking loudly, exactly, but that her voice just projected so far. She and her group got jiggy with Lynrd Skynrd's Greatest Hits until about 8:30 that night, all the while bragging about the 200 crabs they'd caught so far. I assume they meant Dungeness, rather than genital.
Interestingly, the Oregon State Parks all have a requisite "Wash Your Hands to Avoid Disease" sign on the inside doors of the bathrooms. More interestingly, they don't provide soap at any of their bathrooms. Scare tactics!
July 24, 2004
Day Three: Crater Lake
The morning of Day Three found us at the pay showers in the campground. I'm weird about shaving my legs--it has to be done daily. I can miss a day here and there, but only under extreme emotional duress. So we popped our quarters in the pay boxes near the showers. I finished in four minutes howdoyoulikemenow?
We headed up to the Crater Lake Lodge for breakfast. That's kind of a thing with Matt and I in National Parks; we gotta try the lodge (where available) for at least one meal. It was heavenly. I had marionberry stuffed French toast. Mmm.
There is only one trail down to Crater Lake, and you have to drive halfway around the lake to get there. Not that I'm complaining. It was such a beautiful drive around the rim and there were so many places you could get out and see the lake from another perspective.
We hit the trail shortly before noon. You hike 1.1 miles to the lake shore, but you descend roughly 800 feet in that mile. It's a wee bit steep. The trip down was a cinch, but the trip up...
Mr. Crabby Wouldn't Smile
We took a breather down at the shore and watched the excursion boats go by. For $20 each, you can take a scenic boat ride. It probably would have been worth it, but we're both allergic to anything with the word "excursion" in it. Too touristy. Anyway, let's think about this for a minute: big boats, probably 30 people per boat, one trail down to the lake, no road. How the hell do they get the boats in the water, you ask? I asked, and they do it by helicopter! Neato, huh? We actually saw a Sikorsky Sky Crane over the park the day we got there. I have no idea if it was dropping a boat into the lake or not.
We challenged ourselves on the hike back out. The sign at the top said that it takes between 40 and 80 minutes. I bet Matt we could do it in 25 and he agreed. A coronary later, we were at the trailhead in just at 25 minutes. Booya!
Finished up the lake drive, hit the gift shop again (I'm a conspicuous consumer--sue me), and camped at a new campground--little Lost Creek, with only 16 campsites. It was a much better, quieter night without so many neighbors.
We headed up to the Crater Lake Lodge for breakfast. That's kind of a thing with Matt and I in National Parks; we gotta try the lodge (where available) for at least one meal. It was heavenly. I had marionberry stuffed French toast. Mmm.
There is only one trail down to Crater Lake, and you have to drive halfway around the lake to get there. Not that I'm complaining. It was such a beautiful drive around the rim and there were so many places you could get out and see the lake from another perspective.
We hit the trail shortly before noon. You hike 1.1 miles to the lake shore, but you descend roughly 800 feet in that mile. It's a wee bit steep. The trip down was a cinch, but the trip up...
Mr. Crabby Wouldn't Smile
We took a breather down at the shore and watched the excursion boats go by. For $20 each, you can take a scenic boat ride. It probably would have been worth it, but we're both allergic to anything with the word "excursion" in it. Too touristy. Anyway, let's think about this for a minute: big boats, probably 30 people per boat, one trail down to the lake, no road. How the hell do they get the boats in the water, you ask? I asked, and they do it by helicopter! Neato, huh? We actually saw a Sikorsky Sky Crane over the park the day we got there. I have no idea if it was dropping a boat into the lake or not.
We challenged ourselves on the hike back out. The sign at the top said that it takes between 40 and 80 minutes. I bet Matt we could do it in 25 and he agreed. A coronary later, we were at the trailhead in just at 25 minutes. Booya!
Finished up the lake drive, hit the gift shop again (I'm a conspicuous consumer--sue me), and camped at a new campground--little Lost Creek, with only 16 campsites. It was a much better, quieter night without so many neighbors.
July 23, 2004
You Want Pictures?
The Lovely Couple, The Lovely Lake
Day Two of the Trip: We had a really questionable continental breakfast in Burns at our hotel (pre-wrapped cheese danishes and coffee), and continued the drive west. Eventually things started to get a little more scenic and we arrived in Bend around lunchtime. I could tell you what we ate because I somehow have a photographic memory for vacation food, but I don't want to bore you. Okay, I had corned beef hash and fried eggs. God, I love corned beef hash.
At Bend we headed south and stopped for a while at the High Desert Museum. It was full of interesting exhibits about the wildlife, ecology, economy and history of the high desert, specifically southern Idaho, eastern Oregon, darn near all of Nevada, and parts of California and Utah. It also had live animals in dioramas, including otters, birds of prey and mustangs. Good stuff!
After the museum, we went to Crater Lake National Park You have never seen such a shade of blue in your entire life. It is the deepest lake in North America, at nineteen-hundred-and-something feet at the deepest point, which is why it is so doggone blue. We set up camp at Mazama campground, which is named for Mount Mazama, the volcano that blew its top to create the lake.
Since it was getting a bit late, we decided to prioritize the gift shop, which was very nice and had many attractive items at value prices. Ha. National Park gift shops are such a rip-off, but that didn't stop me from buying a t-shirt for me, a t-shirt for our house-sitter, a mug, a magnet and a deck of Wildflower Identification Playing Cards. I had money and I was there to spend it.
A moderately restful night followed, interrupted only by a tree-climbing rodent of some sort dropping a pine cone on our tent. It was here that I recalled the agony of a hugely developed campground where you can't just wander out of your tent in the middle of the night when you need to go wee-wee. I immediately instated my personal "Nothing to Drink after 7:00 p.m." policy, and it served me well.
More tomorrow. Are you guys enjoying this kind of travelogue, or would you rather I just cut to the chase?
July 22, 2004
Momma's Home!
Hey!!! I'm back!!! God, what a great vacation. And I plan to tell you all about it--one day at a time. I figured I'd go through the vacation and try to relive the interesting bits chronologically. I've got pictures for most days, and Sweety, if you don't go to the Redwoods after seeing these pictures...
Enough foreshadowing. I left work at about 3:15 on Tuesday afternoon, raced home, and Matt and I jumped into the car, which he had been working on loading all day. On our way south to catch the freeway, we drove through the town of Emmett. I like to say that I spent a decade living in Emmett one year. Actually it was more like three years spent there. I have bad feelings about Emmett, mostly attached to my destroyed relationship with my mother, via the Jehovah's Witless experience.
Anyway, after driving as quickly as possible through that, we hit the world's ugliest stretch of road. Highway 20 runs between Ontario and Burns, Oregon. There isn't one damn thing to see there except for the Shoe Tree. It's about 30 miles east of Burns. Every year, the graduating high school seniors in Vale, Oregon (15 miles west of Ontario) drive out to the Shoe Tree, tie the laces together on their sneakers, and pitch them up into the branches. There must be 200 pairs of shoes in the tree, which leads me to believe they've been doing it for quite a while, as Vale probably doesn't graduate more than about 15 people each year.
My boss had told me that the Pine Room in Burns was the place to get a steak in Oregon. It was right next door to our hotel, so we decided to go for it. I ordered the small size New York Strip. The meal started out with shrimp cocktail, which meant about 15 baby salad shrimp buried under 2 tablespoons of cocktail sauce. I figured this was going to be another boondoggle sponsored by my boss until the soup arrived: tomato/tarragon bisque. Heaven in a bowl. Salads came and mine had homemade bleu cheese dressing. Not too shabby. And then the steak...ahhh, the steak. I don't know how the cook got such a perfect sear, but it was delightfully crisped on the outside and rose pink and juicy in the middle. I think there might have been a potato. After we finished, the waitress brought us complimentary slices of pumpkin bread with strawberry butter. It was great. We turned in early that night with very full tummies.
More to come tomorrow, this time with pictures. You'll likely notice two recurring themes to my little travelouge: food, and the orange shirt. You'll see what I mean.
Mucho thanks to Sweety and Chris for taking over while I was gone. You guys did great and I owe you one!
Enough foreshadowing. I left work at about 3:15 on Tuesday afternoon, raced home, and Matt and I jumped into the car, which he had been working on loading all day. On our way south to catch the freeway, we drove through the town of Emmett. I like to say that I spent a decade living in Emmett one year. Actually it was more like three years spent there. I have bad feelings about Emmett, mostly attached to my destroyed relationship with my mother, via the Jehovah's Witless experience.
Anyway, after driving as quickly as possible through that, we hit the world's ugliest stretch of road. Highway 20 runs between Ontario and Burns, Oregon. There isn't one damn thing to see there except for the Shoe Tree. It's about 30 miles east of Burns. Every year, the graduating high school seniors in Vale, Oregon (15 miles west of Ontario) drive out to the Shoe Tree, tie the laces together on their sneakers, and pitch them up into the branches. There must be 200 pairs of shoes in the tree, which leads me to believe they've been doing it for quite a while, as Vale probably doesn't graduate more than about 15 people each year.
My boss had told me that the Pine Room in Burns was the place to get a steak in Oregon. It was right next door to our hotel, so we decided to go for it. I ordered the small size New York Strip. The meal started out with shrimp cocktail, which meant about 15 baby salad shrimp buried under 2 tablespoons of cocktail sauce. I figured this was going to be another boondoggle sponsored by my boss until the soup arrived: tomato/tarragon bisque. Heaven in a bowl. Salads came and mine had homemade bleu cheese dressing. Not too shabby. And then the steak...ahhh, the steak. I don't know how the cook got such a perfect sear, but it was delightfully crisped on the outside and rose pink and juicy in the middle. I think there might have been a potato. After we finished, the waitress brought us complimentary slices of pumpkin bread with strawberry butter. It was great. We turned in early that night with very full tummies.
More to come tomorrow, this time with pictures. You'll likely notice two recurring themes to my little travelouge: food, and the orange shirt. You'll see what I mean.
Mucho thanks to Sweety and Chris for taking over while I was gone. You guys did great and I owe you one!
A day dream
I’m at work and it’s SO quiet. A lot of people are on holiday (including my boss YAYYYY!). I could of course start the projects I’m supposed too… But with the lack of time pressure it’s much nicer to slide in to a daydream and think of good things to come. Like our trip to California in December.
It will be awesome. We’re flying to San Francisco and stay there for a couple of days. Then we’ll rent a car and follow the coast line down to San Diego, stopping at places we feel like spending more time at. We both have never been to California. I’m so excited! If time & money is left (we’re still planning this holiday) we’ll spend Christmas on Hawaii. Mmmm…. I wonder if it’s possible to swim with dolphins there. I’ve never done that.
What do you think we should visit while we’re in CA?
It will be awesome. We’re flying to San Francisco and stay there for a couple of days. Then we’ll rent a car and follow the coast line down to San Diego, stopping at places we feel like spending more time at. We both have never been to California. I’m so excited! If time & money is left (we’re still planning this holiday) we’ll spend Christmas on Hawaii. Mmmm…. I wonder if it’s possible to swim with dolphins there. I’ve never done that.
What do you think we should visit while we’re in CA?
July 18, 2004
Who stole summer?
I think Casey has borrowed our summer and took it on her camping trip. Because our summer? NOT here. No where to be found.
This seems to be the problem in quite a big part of Europe, since Tjej (from Sweden) has not seen summer either. And I’ve heard a part of Germany even had snow. SNOW. In July.
For the last years the temperatures (here in The Netherlands) in July & August were between 73 F and 87 F. It’s been like 62 F the last two weeks. And that’s not considering the thunderstorms we had yesterday.
Summer better be hiding in August because I'm writing a letter of complaint to.. to.. to Mother Nature.
This seems to be the problem in quite a big part of Europe, since Tjej (from Sweden) has not seen summer either. And I’ve heard a part of Germany even had snow. SNOW. In July.
For the last years the temperatures (here in The Netherlands) in July & August were between 73 F and 87 F. It’s been like 62 F the last two weeks. And that’s not considering the thunderstorms we had yesterday.
Summer better be hiding in August because I'm writing a letter of complaint to.. to.. to Mother Nature.
July 16, 2004
Rejoice!
Today? She is Friday! Personally, I couldn't be happier. I've been trapped in a land of meetings and proposal writing and I'm not happy about it. I can only imagine how much more fun Casey is having! Regardless, its Friday! And weren't we supposed to be having a party? I need to check what I was supposed to bring again! :-)
July 15, 2004
Superman, a naked dog, Spiderman AND Courtney Love
Can I just be a total lazy guest blogger and tell y’all to go haiku here with Superman, a naked dog, Spiderman AND Courtney Love?
Can I?
Please?
Pretty please with sugar on top?
Can I?
Please?
Pretty please with sugar on top?
July 13, 2004
Thanks, I'll Be Here All Week!
Hey everyone, Chris here. Can you believe Casey took off on vacation and left me and Sweety the keys to her blog. I think we definitely need to throw a party.
Now, what do I want to talk about here? I'm not quite sure...yet. But I've got some time so check back with me in a little while.
Meanwhile, we've got a party to plan. What are you going to bring?
Now, what do I want to talk about here? I'm not quite sure...yet. But I've got some time so check back with me in a little while.
Meanwhile, we've got a party to plan. What are you going to bring?
Blogging, babies, GI JOE & Lucifer
It seems I’m sharing this blog-sit opportunity with Chris Cactus! I’m totally honoured! The word blog-sitting made me think of babysitting (my god that was cheap).
Like probably every teenage girl, I’ve baby-sitted many times. When the parents were out on a perfectly wonderful date, I was changing less perfect poo diapers (I hope the word poo is allowed on Casey’s blog ;). Most of the children I looked after were pretty cool. And for most of the families in my childhood neighbourhood I was their regular baby-sitter. There was however one family for whom I baby-sitted once. And after that I swore that even if they offered me a gazillion dollars (or Dutch guilders at the time) I’d never step foot in their horror house again. Ever.
When I arrived the mom introduced me to her little monsters. It was the 5 year old Lucifer and his 8 year old brother Satan, both wearing angel-looking smiles on their faces. As soon as the mother turned around to get her bag, those smiles disappeared as a drop of water on a hot plate.
God help me.
When their parents had left I asked the boys ‘So, what do you guys wanna do?’ They looked at me as if I replaced their GI-Joes with pink & fluffy bunny rabbits. Okaaay. Wrong start.
They’d choose to ignore me first (mumbling they were too old to have a baby-sitter) but it wasn’t for long until they made fun of me. After two hours of torture by this comical devil duo, I send them to bed.
It couldn’t have been 10 minutes later when I heard “help me, help me”. How could I not run upstairs? When I got there I found Lucifer with blood & slime pouring out of his nose. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Satan had knocked the shit out of his little pointy tailed brother. We washed the blood of little Lucifer and put him back to bed. How much worse can it get?
I grabbed some chips and a coke and settled to watch my girlie movie. *crack* *crack* It was them on the staircase. *crack* *crack*. They’d come down again. I send them up. They came down. I send them up. Down. Up. Down. It wasn’t until their parents came that they’d stayed up, pretending to be asleep.
‘How were they?’ their mom asked. ‘To be honest, they were terrible’ I replied.
With disbelieve she looked at me, her eyes were saying ‘my little angels?’. I took the money and left.
Now, the boys are teenagers and they’re terrorising the neighbourhood. I hear my parents complain a lot. My reply ‘No? Those little angels?’
Hope I haven’t bored ya'all with this post and hope to be a good guest blogger for Casey while she's enjoying her holiday. Sweety ;)
Like probably every teenage girl, I’ve baby-sitted many times. When the parents were out on a perfectly wonderful date, I was changing less perfect poo diapers (I hope the word poo is allowed on Casey’s blog ;). Most of the children I looked after were pretty cool. And for most of the families in my childhood neighbourhood I was their regular baby-sitter. There was however one family for whom I baby-sitted once. And after that I swore that even if they offered me a gazillion dollars (or Dutch guilders at the time) I’d never step foot in their horror house again. Ever.
When I arrived the mom introduced me to her little monsters. It was the 5 year old Lucifer and his 8 year old brother Satan, both wearing angel-looking smiles on their faces. As soon as the mother turned around to get her bag, those smiles disappeared as a drop of water on a hot plate.
God help me.
When their parents had left I asked the boys ‘So, what do you guys wanna do?’ They looked at me as if I replaced their GI-Joes with pink & fluffy bunny rabbits. Okaaay. Wrong start.
They’d choose to ignore me first (mumbling they were too old to have a baby-sitter) but it wasn’t for long until they made fun of me. After two hours of torture by this comical devil duo, I send them to bed.
It couldn’t have been 10 minutes later when I heard “help me, help me”. How could I not run upstairs? When I got there I found Lucifer with blood & slime pouring out of his nose. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Satan had knocked the shit out of his little pointy tailed brother. We washed the blood of little Lucifer and put him back to bed. How much worse can it get?
I grabbed some chips and a coke and settled to watch my girlie movie. *crack* *crack* It was them on the staircase. *crack* *crack*. They’d come down again. I send them up. They came down. I send them up. Down. Up. Down. It wasn’t until their parents came that they’d stayed up, pretending to be asleep.
‘How were they?’ their mom asked. ‘To be honest, they were terrible’ I replied.
With disbelieve she looked at me, her eyes were saying ‘my little angels?’. I took the money and left.
Now, the boys are teenagers and they’re terrorising the neighbourhood. I hear my parents complain a lot. My reply ‘No? Those little angels?’
Hope I haven’t bored ya'all with this post and hope to be a good guest blogger for Casey while she's enjoying her holiday. Sweety ;)
July 12, 2004
Domestic and International Blogging Superstars!
I'm happy to introduce you all (those who aren't already acquainted) with your Guest Bloggers, who will be holding down the fort while I'm gone on my camping trip:
*applause*
First we have Sweety, who is coming to us from the Netherlands. How cool is that? Sweety has a great site and I know will be bringing some terrific perspective to this Idaho girl's blog.
Next we have Chris of Rude Cactus fame. Chris is a pretty darned popular blogger and Haiku Smackdown Grand Master. Don't be intimidaed by his credentials: he's pretty down to earth for all of that.
Thanks for pitch hitting for me, you two!
*applause*
First we have Sweety, who is coming to us from the Netherlands. How cool is that? Sweety has a great site and I know will be bringing some terrific perspective to this Idaho girl's blog.
Next we have Chris of Rude Cactus fame. Chris is a pretty darned popular blogger and Haiku Smackdown Grand Master. Don't be intimidaed by his credentials: he's pretty down to earth for all of that.
Thanks for pitch hitting for me, you two!
July 11, 2004
Random Shtuff
Has anyone paid any attention to the song "Take Your Mama," by Scissor Sisters? It would be way too obvious for me to say that they sound exactly like the younger, flashier days of Elton John, so I won't say that. And the video! Elton, baby. Check it out.
We're working on getting packed up tonight and finishing some housework so that our house-sitter doesn't have to live in a pestilent cess pool while she's here watching our dogs. Not that the place ever gets that dirty, but I do get a bit obsessive-compulsive when I know someone will be entering the front door for more than a minute or two. Thank God for Swiffers.
Still. Looking. For. Guest. Bloggers. Did I mention I don't have any criteria? You don't have to post every day. You don't have to be all alone--you can tag team it with a close friend. If you don't currently have a blog of your own, it's a good way to test the water. And finally, if you do have a blog, perhaps your amazing wittiness (word?) here will draw more visitors over to your own site! That's my sales pitch. Oh, and I'll guest for you someday.
We're working on getting packed up tonight and finishing some housework so that our house-sitter doesn't have to live in a pestilent cess pool while she's here watching our dogs. Not that the place ever gets that dirty, but I do get a bit obsessive-compulsive when I know someone will be entering the front door for more than a minute or two. Thank God for Swiffers.
Still. Looking. For. Guest. Bloggers. Did I mention I don't have any criteria? You don't have to post every day. You don't have to be all alone--you can tag team it with a close friend. If you don't currently have a blog of your own, it's a good way to test the water. And finally, if you do have a blog, perhaps your amazing wittiness (word?) here will draw more visitors over to your own site! That's my sales pitch. Oh, and I'll guest for you someday.
July 09, 2004
Care to Buy a Watch?
Which Survivor of the Impending Nuclear Apocalypse Are You?
A Rum and Monkey joint.
I'm all about surviving the Apocalypse. If you are too, check out Emergence, a now out-of-print novel by David Palmer. You can pick up used copies through Amazon or wherever. Great, great book.
Quiz via Mia.
Having Reservations
I've mentioned that Matt and I are heading out on vacation next week (still looking for guest bloggers--you all aren't exactly beating my door down). It dawned on us last night that we're arriving on the Oregon coast Friday afternoon, not traditionally a good time to just waltz into a campground and think you're going to get a site.
We ended up at Reserve America, a national reservation system that rents out campsites for numerous states' parks, Forest Service and National Park Service sites. We reserved nights from Friday through Sunday of next week at two different Oregon State Parks and a California State Park. Ho. Lee. Cow. Can you believe we paid $77 for three nights?!
The reservation system charges a fee in addition to your campsite fee. For the Oregon sites it was $6.00 and the California site was $7.50. Each campsite ran between $17 and $23 per night. Camping. In a tent. No valet parking, no continental breakfast, (no phone, no pool, no pets, as the song goes).
Still, I guess it's worth it to have the peace of mind knowing that we will be waltzing into a popular campground on Friday night and will have a spot waiting for us.
We ended up at Reserve America, a national reservation system that rents out campsites for numerous states' parks, Forest Service and National Park Service sites. We reserved nights from Friday through Sunday of next week at two different Oregon State Parks and a California State Park. Ho. Lee. Cow. Can you believe we paid $77 for three nights?!
The reservation system charges a fee in addition to your campsite fee. For the Oregon sites it was $6.00 and the California site was $7.50. Each campsite ran between $17 and $23 per night. Camping. In a tent. No valet parking, no continental breakfast, (no phone, no pool, no pets, as the song goes).
Still, I guess it's worth it to have the peace of mind knowing that we will be waltzing into a popular campground on Friday night and will have a spot waiting for us.
Camping Trip Pics
We really had a fun camping trip. We left early-ish on Wednesday and got to our campsite at about 1:00. We chilled at camp for a while and Matt tried his hand at fly-fishing the very fast-flowing Imnaha River. There were no bites, but maybe the fishing will be better and the river will be slower the next time we go.
The dogs had a great time, despite the fact that a coyote howled near our camp at about 2:00 in the morning. They were a little nervous, but didn't wig out completely.
We returned yesterday via Halfway, Oregon, which is a pretty cool little ranch town right in the transition zone between the mountains and pine forest, down to the more barren rangeland around Brownlee and Oxbow reservoirs.
Matt Fly-Fishing on the Imnaha River
The dogs had a great time, despite the fact that a coyote howled near our camp at about 2:00 in the morning. They were a little nervous, but didn't wig out completely.
We returned yesterday via Halfway, Oregon, which is a pretty cool little ranch town right in the transition zone between the mountains and pine forest, down to the more barren rangeland around Brownlee and Oxbow reservoirs.
Matt Fly-Fishing on the Imnaha River
The Dogs and Me, Wallowa-Whitman National Forest
We'd hiked up a horrific slope to find this lake. We looked at the map and thought, "Huh, only a 700' elevation gain in two miles. Not bad." Little did we know that we climbed about 1500' and descended 800' to get there. Still, it was a great hike and definitely made us ready for dinner.
July 08, 2004
This May Be More Accurate
Also from this place, though slightly different.
You are a WECL--Wacky Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a people's advocate. You are passionate about your causes, with a good heart and good endeavors. Your personal fire is contagious, and others wish they could be as dedicated to their beliefs as you are.
Your dedication may cause you to miss the boat on life's more slight and trivial activities. You will feel no loss when skipping some inane mixer, but it can be frustrating to others to whom such things are important. While you find it difficult to see other points of view, it may be useful to act as if you do, and play along once in a while.
In any event, you have buckets of charisma and a natural skill for making people open up. Your greatest asset is an ability to make progress while keeping the peace.
Buckets of natural charisma, indeed.
You are a WECL--Wacky Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a people's advocate. You are passionate about your causes, with a good heart and good endeavors. Your personal fire is contagious, and others wish they could be as dedicated to their beliefs as you are.
Your dedication may cause you to miss the boat on life's more slight and trivial activities. You will feel no loss when skipping some inane mixer, but it can be frustrating to others to whom such things are important. While you find it difficult to see other points of view, it may be useful to act as if you do, and play along once in a while.
In any event, you have buckets of charisma and a natural skill for making people open up. Your greatest asset is an ability to make progress while keeping the peace.
Buckets of natural charisma, indeed.
And People Call Me a Bitch...
From here:
Your score as a human being is 81.2.
You are close to ideal. So close, and yet so far. Amusing, really, to watch someone squirm so close to the vaunted ranks of perfection and still remain so very, very ordinary. It is all one can do to keep one's ingratiating smile from polluting one's perfect face.
Actually, one recommends you take the quiz again and lie a little.
Your score as a human being is 81.2.
You are close to ideal. So close, and yet so far. Amusing, really, to watch someone squirm so close to the vaunted ranks of perfection and still remain so very, very ordinary. It is all one can do to keep one's ingratiating smile from polluting one's perfect face.
Actually, one recommends you take the quiz again and lie a little.
July 06, 2004
"Mean Mommy"
We have these friends...let's call them Kim and John. Kim and John have two children: a four year old boy, Fred, and a one year old daughter, Jane. (Names are changed to protect the innocent--me.)
Kim is a working mother and has a fairly high-level management job. John is a sales representative and makes a very good living on commissions. The problem that we notice with Kim and John is that John refuses to discipline the kids, Fred in particular. John wants to be the "fun parent." If Kim tries to get Fred settled down, John says, "Fred isn't ready yet!" and gets him all riled up again.
Tonight was especially noticable, as little Fred was throwing a rubber ball all around their living room and John was participating heartily. Kim asked John to stop getting the kid wound up, and finally John listened. So what did he do? He told Fred to stop, and then looked over at Kim and said, "Mean Mommy!"
There's more. Fred went outside with the ball and immediately started throwing it at the windows of the house. At this point, John went outside, ostensibly to discipline Fred. Didn't happen. Another game of catch ensued and before too much longer Fred was throwing the ball at the windows again.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who would have given Fred a spanking and John an ultimatum.
Kim is a working mother and has a fairly high-level management job. John is a sales representative and makes a very good living on commissions. The problem that we notice with Kim and John is that John refuses to discipline the kids, Fred in particular. John wants to be the "fun parent." If Kim tries to get Fred settled down, John says, "Fred isn't ready yet!" and gets him all riled up again.
Tonight was especially noticable, as little Fred was throwing a rubber ball all around their living room and John was participating heartily. Kim asked John to stop getting the kid wound up, and finally John listened. So what did he do? He told Fred to stop, and then looked over at Kim and said, "Mean Mommy!"
There's more. Fred went outside with the ball and immediately started throwing it at the windows of the house. At this point, John went outside, ostensibly to discipline Fred. Didn't happen. Another game of catch ensued and before too much longer Fred was throwing the ball at the windows again.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who would have given Fred a spanking and John an ultimatum.
A-Camping We Will Go
Matt and I are going to head out in the morning for a quick overnight camping trip to the Imnaha River in Eastern Oregon. You might remember that we went there a few weeks ago. It was a great trip, and we hope to enjoy some sunshine there this time around.
We're heading off on our big vacation next week to Crater Lake, Redwoods National Park, and Mount Shasta. I'm looking for a few good people interested in guest blogging. Leave a post in the comments if you'd like to be signed up to take over for me for about 9 days. Thanks!
We're heading off on our big vacation next week to Crater Lake, Redwoods National Park, and Mount Shasta. I'm looking for a few good people interested in guest blogging. Leave a post in the comments if you'd like to be signed up to take over for me for about 9 days. Thanks!
July 05, 2004
Getting Peeved
I don't know what the hell is going on with the computer/internet/modem/me. At least 50% of the time that I try to click into my site, whether it is from my favorites list, from Blogger, or from another site, I get booted to a "Cannot Find Server" page. It isn't happening with any other sites (that I am aware of) on our favorites or other regularly scheduled pages. This has been going on for days now.
Thoughts?
Thoughts?
Way to Go, Idaho!
All you Idahoans need to get your tukkuses over to A Small Victory and take up for our great state.
The jist of the post is that each and every state has something that makes it great. People have commented about pret'near every state in the union, but I was dismayed to find I was the first to make any real effort to say what is great about Idaho.
Git over there. Git!
The jist of the post is that each and every state has something that makes it great. People have commented about pret'near every state in the union, but I was dismayed to find I was the first to make any real effort to say what is great about Idaho.
Git over there. Git!
July 03, 2004
Cool Site!
I had an e-mail in my inbox this evening that invited me to submit a personal photo (not necessarily of myself, but of whatever), along with an essay about the photo to the website 1000 Words. The site started in Australia, and is now going global with submissions from all over the world. (That's what "global" means.) *eye roll*
The site's creator, David Chin, is looking for new material and is interested in hearing from pretty much anyone, near as I can tell. Check it out!
The site's creator, David Chin, is looking for new material and is interested in hearing from pretty much anyone, near as I can tell. Check it out!
July 02, 2004
You Gotta Have Goals
Let's talk about my goals tonight, shall we?
My first goal is to someday not live in a resort town. I also do not want to live on the road that is on it's way to another resort town. Traffic is sucking the big schlong tonight. All the area campgrounds were full as of Thursday morning, but people just keep pouring in with their big-ass trailers. We're full! Go home!
My other goal is to be on The Today Show someday.
And now we've talked about my goals.
My first goal is to someday not live in a resort town. I also do not want to live on the road that is on it's way to another resort town. Traffic is sucking the big schlong tonight. All the area campgrounds were full as of Thursday morning, but people just keep pouring in with their big-ass trailers. We're full! Go home!
My other goal is to be on The Today Show someday.
And now we've talked about my goals.
Just Click It
You gotta look at this. Why? Because it cracks me up so damn bad. Just look, okay?
DUDE, DOUBLE YOU TEE EFF is two papers?
*snort*
DUDE, DOUBLE YOU TEE EFF is two papers?
*snort*
July 01, 2004
How Does My Garden Grow?
I actually did some gardening today. I feel no affinity for gardening whatsoever, but I forced myself to get after it. The former owners of our house really worked hard at providing a nice, seasonal perennial garden for us. Every spring we stand and look at our tulips, crocus and daffodils and say, "Thank you, Mrs. Miller!" (Mrs. Miller was the former owner who worked so hard on the flower beds.) In the summer the lupines and columbines bloom, the hummingbirds come to enjoy the nectar, and we again say, "Thank you, Mrs. Miller!"
Mrs. Miller had her son build her a raised strawberry bed in what is now our back yard. She didn't tend it the last few years of her life, so after we moved in we decided to try to replant it. It didn't work out, mainly because we forget to water stuff. So up until this afternoon, the raised bed was a huge tangle of weeds and chamomile.
I joined The Arbor Day Foundation about a year ago because I love trees. I can keep trees alive, generally speaking. Every few months, the Arbor Day Foundation sends me a little offer where I can make a donation--usually $15 or so--and they will send me some more trees or another goody. This last time it was a summer bulb garden. There were all kinds of little bulbs: anemones, swordflower (?), and allium.
I planted, I watered, and I doubt anything will ever come of it.
Mrs. Miller had her son build her a raised strawberry bed in what is now our back yard. She didn't tend it the last few years of her life, so after we moved in we decided to try to replant it. It didn't work out, mainly because we forget to water stuff. So up until this afternoon, the raised bed was a huge tangle of weeds and chamomile.
I joined The Arbor Day Foundation about a year ago because I love trees. I can keep trees alive, generally speaking. Every few months, the Arbor Day Foundation sends me a little offer where I can make a donation--usually $15 or so--and they will send me some more trees or another goody. This last time it was a summer bulb garden. There were all kinds of little bulbs: anemones, swordflower (?), and allium.
I planted, I watered, and I doubt anything will ever come of it.
Right Here in Valley County
Valley County official, ranch hand fined in wolf killing
Valley County Commissioner and rancher Phil Davis and his hired hand have been fined $750 each in the shooting death of a wolf. Few ranchers in Idaho have been fined for killing a wolf since their reintroduction in 1995.
The wolf, protected under the Endangered Species Act, was found dead by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service enforcement officers May 25 on Davis' 6,000-acre Bar O Ranch north of Cascade. Jerry Ussery, an employee of Davis, told officers he shot the wolf May 24 while it was near a herd of cattle north of the Warm Springs Highway.
Davis said Ussery heard two cows bawling when he came on the scene and saw the wolf running across a road past the cows, which had week-old calves.
"There's no doubt this wolf was going to kill a calf," Davis said.
Under the current rules, a landowner can shoot a wolf on private land if it is killing, wounding or biting livestock.
"We would have given them the benefit of the doubt if there had been evidence that cattle had been attacked," said Craig Tabor, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service officer who investigated the case.
Davis and Ussery might not have been fined had they called authorities within 24 hours, Tabor said.
Davis runs 4,000 head of cattle on the ranch with the oldest brand in the state, dating back to 1863. May is his busiest month of the year. He was in the middle of moving cattle from his winter and spring range near Mountain Home to summer range near Cascade when Ussery called and told him he had shot the wolf.
Davis was too busy with other work to respond immediately, he said. He told Ussery to hide it because he thought it was visible from the road and could have prompted calls from passers-by.
When Davis woke up the next morning, he was preparing for 500 head of cattle to arrive then.
"I plumb forgot about it," Davis said.
Meanwhile, biologists for the Nez Perce Tribe picked up a signal from the wolf's radio collar that indicates an animal isn't moving.
Tabor and another officer realized the signal was coming from Davis' ranch and stopped by his house to get permission to look for the wolf.
Davis and Ussery took them to the wolf and told them their story. Ussery said he could have shot the wolf numerous times but didn't until it threatened the calves.
The wolf, a male, had just joined the Orphan Pack, which has been living in the areas since 1996. A member of the same pack is believed to have killed two of Davis' calves in 1996 and also a neighbor's calf.
Ussery acknowledged that the wolf was running away from the cattle when he shot, which was one of the reasons charges were filed, Tabor said.
I'm not going to post about my personal opinions in this situation. I'm happy that my husband was not involved with this case in any way, since it's a pretty controversial subject here in town.
But the question for discussion is this: do you think a politician who breaks federal law should step down from their post?
Valley County Commissioner and rancher Phil Davis and his hired hand have been fined $750 each in the shooting death of a wolf. Few ranchers in Idaho have been fined for killing a wolf since their reintroduction in 1995.
The wolf, protected under the Endangered Species Act, was found dead by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service enforcement officers May 25 on Davis' 6,000-acre Bar O Ranch north of Cascade. Jerry Ussery, an employee of Davis, told officers he shot the wolf May 24 while it was near a herd of cattle north of the Warm Springs Highway.
Davis said Ussery heard two cows bawling when he came on the scene and saw the wolf running across a road past the cows, which had week-old calves.
"There's no doubt this wolf was going to kill a calf," Davis said.
Under the current rules, a landowner can shoot a wolf on private land if it is killing, wounding or biting livestock.
"We would have given them the benefit of the doubt if there had been evidence that cattle had been attacked," said Craig Tabor, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service officer who investigated the case.
Davis and Ussery might not have been fined had they called authorities within 24 hours, Tabor said.
Davis runs 4,000 head of cattle on the ranch with the oldest brand in the state, dating back to 1863. May is his busiest month of the year. He was in the middle of moving cattle from his winter and spring range near Mountain Home to summer range near Cascade when Ussery called and told him he had shot the wolf.
Davis was too busy with other work to respond immediately, he said. He told Ussery to hide it because he thought it was visible from the road and could have prompted calls from passers-by.
When Davis woke up the next morning, he was preparing for 500 head of cattle to arrive then.
"I plumb forgot about it," Davis said.
Meanwhile, biologists for the Nez Perce Tribe picked up a signal from the wolf's radio collar that indicates an animal isn't moving.
Tabor and another officer realized the signal was coming from Davis' ranch and stopped by his house to get permission to look for the wolf.
Davis and Ussery took them to the wolf and told them their story. Ussery said he could have shot the wolf numerous times but didn't until it threatened the calves.
The wolf, a male, had just joined the Orphan Pack, which has been living in the areas since 1996. A member of the same pack is believed to have killed two of Davis' calves in 1996 and also a neighbor's calf.
Ussery acknowledged that the wolf was running away from the cattle when he shot, which was one of the reasons charges were filed, Tabor said.
I'm not going to post about my personal opinions in this situation. I'm happy that my husband was not involved with this case in any way, since it's a pretty controversial subject here in town.
But the question for discussion is this: do you think a politician who breaks federal law should step down from their post?
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