One Percent

NOTE: I know I've been incommunicado for a week or two - refer to my vow of not excusing myself - but I really haven't forgotten to document all the fun. And I have been starting posts...just not finishing them. Witness this episode I almost completed from 08/14/2010

We were lucky for the last few days to have RHM visiting. And though she's one of MY dearest friends from college, Tarzan and ATL have adopted her into the clique of They Who Sit On The Couch With Their Laptops:

She was sweet enough to take us to dinner - such good Tangerine Beef! - and we took her to one of the museums (almost) in town. As a designer, this is one of those "if only" situations where there was an unlimited budget and no restrictions other than 'spend it all.' The donor wanted to get rid of the money - tax evasion maybe? - but the city wanted the revenue from visitors, so the museum is free but parking costs $15. There are probably five people who live close enough to walk to the thing and everyone else has to drive. The experience is needs to be experienced at least once if you live here and I deem it worth the exorbitant parking fee if you go with friends:

There is a lot of travertine:

Also a lot of stairs:

A few elevators, but I get the feeling the architect did not want to include them, was forced to for accessibility reasons so he stuck them in the most out of the way places:

Dude had serious ideas about how people should tranverse this place. Witness the walkways:

I do particularly love these:

Because from far away it looks very organic, rooftop growing, living umbrella kind of thing but when you get next to it you realize they are steel reinforcing bars:

This set of directions amused me. This was the sign at the bottom of the stairs:

We went up the stairs:

And this was the sign at the top of the stairs:

In the end we had to walk back down, around the stairs, out a door and up a RAMP to get to the level they were alluding to. All that rigmarole for this sculpture plaza:

Oy.

There were alternative sculptures - modern versus the classical - on the adjacent lawn. Here is me not touching one of them:

The maze was cool:

In fact, all the landscaping was lovely:

Maybe I'm just not an art person?

We did have a good time, so that's all that really matters:

This is me and we were culturally edified.

Prophetic

I never realized until now how scarily accurate Schoolhouse Rock is:

This is me and that's eerie.

We Have A Winner

I think I've given you all enough time to think of a decent response to "How Embarrassed WAS I?" and so I now officially declare a winner.
Cathie is the winner!
I started reading Cathie's blog because Rocketgirl told me to. But I kept reading because she's funny, smart, she loves to cook and SHE remembers to take pictures. Also, if you ask, she will come, comment, or anything else you have asked of her. She's awesome and we've never met.
So, Cathie, send me your address and favorite variety of cookie via tempest30ATgmailDOTcom and they are as good as yours.

This is me and when she says the word, the cookies are in the mail.

Rava-Ma-Olis

Why do I never think to take photographs of the food until after it's in our bellies? Not the sort of picture that's easy to achieve or to look at.
We made cheese ravioli tonight. For anyone interested in making your own pasta there are two things you should know.
1. Use semolina flour. You will thank me later.
2. It gets easier every time so don't get discouraged if it looks weird the first three or twenty times you try.
3. Take pictures for your blog.
Okay, three things then.

This is me and one day I might remember.

Baseball

Last night was Mormon Night at the local baseball stadium and we went as we do every year. This season, Tarzan wanted to try the all-you can-eat pavilion out in left field - or right field, I can never tell - one of the fields. I was all excited until I looked up what was included in this all-you-can-eat deal; the stadium hot dogs, sodas, nachos, peanuts and popcorn. Tarzan can eat his weight in hot dogs but after one and a half I'm done. Now if they'd included ice cream, cotton candy and/or the frozen lemonade it would have been a whole different story.
Nevertheless, it was an eventful...uh, event.
As we arrived, so did an ambulance:Apparently a guy on the other side of the field had a heart attack.

Editor's note: we have since learned that the man passed away. Makes me feel bad for making light.
Our seats were really pretty good, on the walkway between sections so we had plenty of leg room and no one standing in our way, even during the wave.

I don't know if it was my hair, a lucky night or the fact that my skills at self photography have improved but these did not suck as much as others I have taken.

ATL and I:

Tarzan and I:

And this was an action shot from all the way across the field. LOVE my 18x optical zoom baby: I didn't realize it at the time - though I should have - that this guy was a regular but he was so funny and it's a great song and he probably has a contract now:

What happens if he doesn't come every night?
Oh, and our team lost.

This is me, at a baseball game.

Oh Crap

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38560562/ns/us_news-life?GT1=43001

This is me and you know it's going all the way to the Supreme Court.

Black On Black

The down side to having black kittens is you need the flash for EVERYthing:

This is me and it's a small price to pay.

Speaking Of Faith

I must confess to a love/hate relationship with Dr. Gregory House. (Yes, I do know he's not real.) Most of the time I find him amusing and straightforward - cutting through all the politicking that goes on in a lot of work environments - but there are times he irritates me SO MUCH I want to turn off the show, which is a HUGE decision for me. I really hate to leave in the middle. Of anything. But tonight was one of those episodes. It was a random rerun - I don't watch it on a regularl basis - about a patient who had recently changed her life drastically and become strictly religious. The doctor's assessment was that she was suffering from guilt, or masochism, or was trying to commit suicide to get away from the life she chose. (He changes his mind about a dozen times as the show goes on.)
He spent a lot of time mocking the faith and rules the woman and her husband were adhering to and as I watched I became very much aware of how glad I am that I know there is a God.
I know there is someone watching out for me, someone who knows more than I about what is, and will be, best for me. I know there a reason why I follow "the rules" so devotedly, I know there is a place to go when this life is over, I have an eternal goal to be working toward.
I know this and though I can't "prove" it to anyone - I can't point to a specific time and say, "There. There is when I knew" - maybe I've always known - I can not deny that I DO know.
And I'll tell you why I keep sharing what I know, despite the jokes, the teasing, the snide comments, the rude insinuations, the mocking, laughing and dismissals.
Because, whether I am right or not, whether it changes anyone's life or not, knowing that there is a God makes my life happier, full of purpose and it gives me confidence to continue on.
This reminds me of a lesson I taught in college to a girl investigating the LDS church about eternal families. I was explaining that being a member of the church is a good thing because we believe in eternal families which means we will be together again after we die. She asked me if she wouldn't see her father - who had passed away - unless she joined our church. Now, I was young and stupid and didn't know how to answer that. Someone else took the discussion thread and I stopped talking. It wasn't until a few years later I realized what I had been trying to tell her was that of course she would see her father again, no matter what. But the knowledge of families being reunited after this life makes living easier, more comforting and there isn't such a pit of despair left behind when someone we love dies. Her life would be happier and she hurt less if she knew what I know.

This is me and I know.

And That's Why I'm Asking You

Have you ever said "I am SO late," and had a smart aleck friend/spouse/acquaintance respond with, "how late ARE you?" Or commented on the weather with "it is SO cold," and been asked to elaborate with "how cold IS it?"
Well I have a better one; I was SO embarrassed.
Imagine, if you will, my calling Tarzan on his cell phone, all teasing and stuff "did we not have [insert marital relations euphemism here] last night?" and having him say "um, Jane, you're on speaker phone, so say hello to [young teenager in the car]"
Then imagine my face going seventeen shades of red - despite the fact no one could see me - while trying to recover without sounding like a complete and utter moron.
Fail.

This is me, and whoever comes up with the best answer to the "how embarrassed WERE you?" question will receive a dozen cookies of your favorite variety via me.

Busted

Totally random email from a friend today made me laugh out loud:

This is me and that chicken is in trouble.

What Are Yours?

You know how when you turn on the television all the movies have started already? Usually that bugs me - I hate to miss any part of the movie. If we come during the previews I consider myself late - and I will spend an inordinate amount of time searching for the next showing of the same movie so I can not miss the opening credits. Tarzan thinks I'm insane.
But I have discovered there are a few films where it does not matter when I come in. In fact, no matter how many minutes are left, I will always watch the following list of films, even though I own some of them and even if I just saw it yesterday. In no particular order:
1. Mr. & Mrs. Smith
2. Miss Congeniality
3. Legally Blonde
4. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
5. The Italian Job
6. The Lake House

This is me and what are your no matter when movies?

How Sad Is It?

How sad is it that the biggest thing I missed while at my parents for the last two days was the energy pack from Mafia Wars?

This is me and I have got to get a life.

So Very Bizarre

We are back, it was hot, everyone was good and pictures are forthcoming.
Tonight we had dinner with Tarzan's uncle and aunt-in-law and some of their friends. I think I met the family my family would have been if circumstances had been different while I was growing up.

This is me and it was a Twilight Zone moment.

Out

We're gonna be out in The Desert for the next two days - and alas there is no Internet out there - so don't fret.

This is me and we're incommunicado for a while.

In This We Are Alike

My mother-in-law forwards us a lot of emails, some funny, some weird, some intriguing, at some I roll my eyes and some make me scream. This one though, I really like a lot. The presentation is not emotional, it's objective and it lays out the facts. The logical, rational facts. I appreciate an argument like that. It's rare; a logical argument.
And though I don't know if I want a gun I agree that people who do want them should be allowed to keep them.
To a point.
I don't know that anyone needs an AK-47 at their house, or a machine gun, but a lower caliber shotgun can be quite useful and not just for self defense. (I am looking at you possum in the backyard raking through the garbage every night.)
It comes down to one of my favorite phrases; moderation in all things.

This is me and I agree Smedley.

Male Bonding

I suppose, since the kitten can't drink a beer, this is the next best thing:

This is me and aren't they adorable?

Burn Baby Burn

I hate to use an overused phrase, but kids, it isn't rocket science. Why would you come to the beach, wanting to build a fire, and bring only lighter fluid and a cord of wood? Fuel good, even an ignitant - is that a word? It should be - is a good idea - we had some - but the starter is quite possibly the most important part of the bonfire.
Some people's kids.

This is me and it's good for them that we had some extra.

Letter To An Airline

I wrote this the day we flew back from seeing Tarzan's family but what with the weird dreams and the phone calls and visits to the doctor, dentist and vet - there is a sizable post coming about the kitten situation, be warned - I totally forgot I had even started it. I give you now a letter to the airline. If it sounds harsh, keep in mind I was tired from travelling and still had a lot of suitcases to unpack and laundry to do.

Dear Unnamed-Because-I-Don't-Want-To-Give-You-Free-Publicity Airline,
Two things.
Firstly, can you not talk to each other? Our plane was a few minutes late landing - and most of that was spent on the ground waiting for another behemoth hunk of metal to get out of the way - and you couldn't note that half of the passengers were waiting on other flights. Other flights that left while we were running from the make-shift, DIY shed of a terminal, across the tarmac and into the real building, only to see our connecting flight home pull away from the gate and THEN SIT ON THE RUNWAY FOR FIVE MINUTES WHILE THEY WAIT FOR CLEARANCE TO TAKE OFF? Just so they could say they left on time. Seriously, SO annoying. We were an hour and half later getting home because no one can talk to anyone else in any other branch of any corporation ever. I have yet to meet a department that could.
Secondly, I really do not think that two bags of peanuts makes up for $25 in checked luggage fees. Unless the peanuts were gold. And they weren't.
But my mother told me to not give criticism without something positive as well, so here you go, a positive comment. I appreciate that the pilot told us take-off would be bumpy, so I didn't freak out when we had some turbulence, unlike other aircraft I have ridden in where the pilot said it would be clear skies and didn't announce anything when we dropped five feet in the air with no warning. I like to be prepared, so thanks for that.

This is me, a extremely disgruntled passenger who does not want to ever use your airline again but will have to because you are who we have our frequent flyer miles with.

Joke-Of-The-Day

The hottest cars travel faster than sound. You’ll be in the hospital before you even start the motor.

This is me and it's been a long day cleaning because someone's boy.friend is coming to visit and in this state my brain finds this joke funny.

Cleaning

The irony is, once you've finished cleaning the bathroom you really need to take a shower, or wash your face and hands at least, but you don't want to mess up the clean after all the work it to get everything there.

This is me and it's quite a dilemma.

Whooping Cough

Does anyone else's doctor keep pushing vaccinations on them? Last year I had to get my Rubella shot updated - the third one that I can remember - and then on Tuesday I got a DPTSSPTWX vaccination. Something about tetanus and whooping cough. Whooping cough, really? Am I likely to get whooping cough? I have never known anyone to get whooping cough. Ever.
It's almost like my doctor get a bonus for the number of shots he gives out, a twisted sort of sales commission. I think it's a good idea for children and babies to be vaccinated and I got all mine when I was young but what's the deal recently for me to get a whole bunch? I read a lot of blogs and I haven't heard anyone else complaining about red sore injection areas.

This is me and I am not amused.

Weird Dream #33 and #34

It's been a while since I posted about my dreams, not because I haven't been having them, but they have been fading quickly upon awakening and haven't been too cohesive. When and what I can remember, I try to figure out what in my waking mind caused the wacky dream. Sometimes it's easy and other's not so much.
First, last week at Tarzan's parent's house for the wedding, I had a really vivid dream where I was back in design school - which came from talking to Liezel about her plans for school - and I was married to Tarzan but he never appeared and didn't live in my basement apartment - which came, I suspect, because we were sleeping in the basement of Tarzan's parent's house. When I was in the studio my professor - my much older with grey hair professor - would come by and berate me for not working hard enough and making enough progress. Then one day he walked in while I was working, told me I should work harder, started to leave and then said "Or you could marry me." I was startled, but not ridiculously so, and told him I was already married. He then said, it was okay we could just make out, and that's what we did. First in the studio - no one else was ever there - then in my apartment. During one of these sessions a girl from my class walked by outside and threw a baseball glove at my window - that came from us finding two gloves while we were cleaning out the living room for the wedding. I have NO IDEA where the rest of that came from. I have never had a crush on a teacher - ESPECIALLY one from design school - or an employer. But in my dream, my professor was a really good kisser.
Then, last night, I dreamed I was in a large, really extraneous house, with doors, stairways, courtyards and rooms everywhere. And children, there were kids everywhere, all ages. I was helping out with cleaning and errands and whatever the lady of the house needed. It was all very Cinderella-like. Amongst other people living in the house was Neil Patrick Harris - likely because we have been watching a lot of How I Met Your Mother recently - and he was pursuing me around the house. Again I was married though Tarzan never made an appearance and so I rebuffed him nicely since we had to work together. He was relentless, all over the house, no matter what I was working on, he was there and wanting to help, being chivalrous and sweet but obvious. I was weakening near the end, but then the 'family' came home and right before he left to look after the kids - that was his job - I threw my arms around his neck and said the kids were lucky to have him. We had to go back to work and then I woke up.

This is me and the insanity lives on in my brain.

FYI

The problem is apparently not my hair, but my inability to STYLE my own hair.

This is me and does anyone know where I can take a class in styling my own har?

Calls From The Future

I don't usually post twice in one day - spread it around mateys - but this was too freaky.
You may or may not have known that we cancelled our telephone landline and bought a MagicJack to cut down on the monthly bill. We mostly use our cell phones but telemarketers and people from church call us on the house phone. It hasn't been too much of a bother to switch.
But since the MagicJack only works when my computer is on, we will ofttimes come home to an email saying we have a new voice message. The weird thing is that we have been sitting here all evening, with my computer on and I just received an email saying we have a message. A message from Tuesday, June 29th. This is the exact wording, except for the x's of course, that's our number and their number:

"You received a new 0:37 minutes voicemail
message, on Tuesday, June 29, 2010 at 12:16:50 AM in mailbox xxx-xxx-xxxx from
xxx-xxx-xxxx."

This is me and that's spooky right?

Not Enough Spaces

Is it sad that I forgot how my desk was laid out while we were gone? I couldn't figure out how to plug in all the accessories - my speakers, the printer, the MagicJack, the external hard drive, my mouse and the cooling pad thingy - until just now.

This is me and we are back, open letter to the airlines to follow.

Three Thousand Words

This is me and there you have it.

Countdown In Ten

Shopping, cleaning, picnic, volleyball and noses, family, bonding. It was a busy day today but tomorrow is the day we have all been waiting for.

This is me, I hope my dress isn't too blue.

A Snippet Of The Good Times

Today was spent bonding. First, Rocketgirl and I - and a very classy friend - went to have our hair done. It was an experience I have been severely overdue on receiving and so I may have indulged a tiny bit. So much so that Rocketgirl and Lola sat around with me for almost an hour, watching my highlights dry and chatting up the other stylists. How is that for friends? It was tres to the awesome.
I had Tarzan take the before - with the growth and the leftover super old highlights: And the after: Also the after from the other angle:
Pictures. Perhaps not the greatest lighting for my color to shine but I think it will be excellent. Very violet-red so it won't look so obvious when my hair grows out and it's an easy to care for and versatile style. I think I might want to marry Dorene my stylist. She was awesome.
The afternoon was spent hanging with the children - why do I always think "that would be a great picture" AFTER the moment has passed? Because I am a genius that way - and doing some cleaning up.
Dinner was quite possibly the most fun I have ever had ever eating in my life. Tarzan, his siblings and their spouses and spouses-to-be all went to eat at The Melting Pot in the area. (How lucky are we that there is always one around when we need some fonduing?) It was hilarious, there were so many stories - thanks Rocketgirl for asking us each to share how we met and got engaged, so awesome - and so much food. We were all stuffed and barely able to move but I think good times were had by all. Rocketgirl - the veteran blogger among us - thought to bring a camera so she has the pictures which I will steal in a short while and claim as my own. That's the point of having a genius family.

This is me and it was a red letter day.

No Time

No time, no time at all - not like I ever really have any - but we flew into The Rockies last night to be with Tarzan's family because PhatFiddle is getting married on Friday. She's a doll and seeing everyone is fantastic but there is no time to blog. I have dozens of pictures and videos from the pool this afternoon, adorable shots of cousins playing, sisters, brothers, in-laws, it's awesome. And it will come. I promise.

This is me and I have got to get some sleep before we get our hair all wedding-ified tomorrow.

It's Always Been Blue

I totally copied Cathie's post today and took the color test to see if my favorite color has changed:

It hasn't. It's still blue.

The interpretation is fairly accurate I suppose. I am, by nature, an introvert (55%) and have had to grow extrovert wings (45%) to keep up with my husband, his family, my profession (WHY did I want to be an architect?) and all the tasks that come my way.

I am balanced in my understanding of the environment with 35% morals, 33% ideas/feelings/experiences and only 31% facts. Facts just cloud up my mind anyway.

My relationships with others are 53% influenced by my own creativity and spiritual impulse and 47% by my family and personal ties.

My decision making is 65% inner conviction and 34% conversing with others. Does that make me independent or just stubborn?

Tarzan should be happy to know that I take my spouse's sensibility into account 43% of the time. I am driven by my personal goals 56% of the time.

Apparently I am imaginative, intellectual and well-thought (I don't really understand that one) but I don't care too much about others. Perhaps a little resentment still lingers from last night.

This is me and the short version is I am a moderate person. Straight down the middle of the road. At least according to my color preferences.

In Which I Vent Loudly

Oh my freaking good golly. I do not understand other people's kids. I just don't. I don't understand other people's kids' parents either.
How can they sit and watch their 8 or 9 year old child ignore the instructions, multiple times, from the adult in charge - which was not me - and then throw a fit, a literal fit, screaming and thrashing on the ground when the alternative choice is to sit next to said parent. (As in "if you think casting the fishing line is boring, go sit next to your mother.")
I know, I don't have children, I don't understand the emotional, physical and mental stress of having kids. I realize that children come into this world with personalities of their own and they can't be changed. I really do get that I don't know what it's like to be a parent.
But.
I have seen parenting done well a - very - few times and wonder why some people get it and others don't realize that rules and consequences are a necessary part of life. When your kid disobeys, in a public place, disrupting a large gathering of people, ruining the other children's enjoyment and makes a scene, punish your flippin' kid okay?

This is me and GAH!

Put One Foot In Front Of The Other

An interesting story on the news feed this morning: British College Under Fire For 'How To Walk In High Heels' Course.
I am torn between the two sides - as I usually am with these media 'scandals' - because 90% of women I see in them don't know how to walk in high heels, with the shuffling and the clomping and their ankles waving in and out. It doesn't say that pupils can declare how to wear high heels as their major so I would say it's harmless, like taking a ballroom dance class at school.
Then again, if it's costing taxpayers money, they should have been made aware of it and why can't the students just pay for the six-week class themselves, like they do for any field trip or assignment that's extra in an educational environment? Also, the class should be emphasizing how to walk in the heels they will be wearing in the workplace, pumps, wedges, peep-toes etc., not lady-of-the-night shoes.
And I suppose the real point of the class has been made because I am talking about it and that's the free publicity they were looking for.

This is me and I would have taken the class. High heels are awesome.

Martian Child

Just watched Martian Child, starring one of my favorite actors of all time, John Cusack. It wasn't a new plot - the kid isn't really from Mars but why does all the weird stuff keep happening? - but it was touching. Mostly because the story focused on the relationship between David, John Cusack's character, and Dennis, the "Martian" child. The production team didn't push any romance, or extraneous storylines. It was simple and to the point and I liked it.
I'm also fairly sure they cast the kid because he could hang upside down for a long time, from pretty much anything and not crack a smile.

This is me watching a movie.

He Who Hath Clean Ears

P.S. The guy who invented the Q-tip was a genius.

This is me and it just feels good.

A Typical Monday

Because yesterday was so much fun...
8:00am - got up, got dressed, fed the kittens, got changed after they splattered their solid food all over me and don't get very much in their mouths, then fed the outdoor cats
9:00am - ate my breakfast, did dishes, started the list of what needs to be done today
9:30am - remember the promise to read ATL's final paper for her Bachelor's degree and get on that
11:00am - random wanderings through the Internet to find Kristin Chenoweth is doing a remake of Promises, Promises on Broadway and Promises, Promises is a musical version of The Apartment. All of which I love, Kristin, musicals, Broadway and the movie.
11:30am - fed the kittens, paid bills, sorted through emails, started this blog post, played some Mafia Wars on Facebook
12:45pm - snagged some lunch
1:00pm - dropped ATL off at her school to turn in said paper, then ran errands to the bank, to get cat food and the grocery store. On the way home from this excursion, Tarzan's mother called to ask if I could drive her from the hospital where she is visiting one of her brothers to the hospital where that brother was being transported. Turned the car around, realized I still had ATL in the car with me and she has a final super early tomorrow, turned the car around again and got on the freeway at a point where I couldn't get off when I needed to, had to pass the exit I could see but not use, turned around AGAIN, let ATL off at the house, unloaded the car, prepared to leave and answered the phone just in time to find out Gamma got a ride with the ambulance.
6:30pm - started dinner and fed the kittens
7:00pm - ate dinner, made and iced three dozen cupcakes for Tarzan to take to school tomorrow for the last Book Club meeting of the year
10:00pm - did dishes from dinner and the cupcakes, finished this post and you guessed it, fed the kittens
11:00pm - go to bed

This is me and these kittens really need to learn to feed themselves.

A Typical Sunday

I thought I'd try and document exactly where my time goes in a week. Once I quit work I figured I have all the time in the world to do things I liked to do. Read, garden, decorate, sort through old boxes, visit the beach, you know. It hasn't exactly gone according to plan. This was today's schedule.
7:30am - get up, get dressed and feed the kittens.
8:30am - out the door for church
9:00-10:45am - Ward Council - which is not supposed to be more than an hour - wherein we discuss A LOT of people, family situations, needs, calendars and organizational issues along with the jokes and quips that come with being at church two hours or more earlier than the rest of the congregation.
11:00am-2:00pm - church, wherein Tarzan does a lot of things and I never get to talk to a grown-up.
2:00-3:00pm - wait for Tarzan to finish counting the tithing money and then make the deposit at the bank. Yes, of course I could drive my own car to church and then not have to wait for him but since the time we spend in the car is often the only time we have together in a day, it's not a bad trade.
3:00-3:30pm - come home, eat if it's not Fast Sunday like today was, feed the kittens, do the dishes I didn't get up in time to do in the morning, field phone calls from family
4:30pm - out the door to the Stake Center for a baptism, fireside, home teaching or like today, four baptisms
6:30pm - come home, change out of church clothes, start dinner, feed all the rest of the cats, feed the kittens again, set the table, call back the family we didn't get a chance to speak with previously
8:00pm - eat dinner
9:00pm - do dinner dishes, store leftovers, empty compost,
9:30pm - start the blog post about my day, sort through emails and comments from Facebook
11:30pm - feed the kittens
11:59pm - go to bed


This is me and I thought the Sabbath was supposed to be a day of rest?

Memorial Day Weekend 2010

Finally, what you've all been waiting for; THE TRIP recap. We thank you for your patience.
The short version is we went up to The Temperate Zone to see my brother, his wife and their kids. Most especially because my parents hadn't seen his newest daughter, Halo, yet:

Luckily Tarzan had last Friday off from work, so we rented a moving truck, picked ATL up from work, emptied her apartment, drove back to our place, emptied the truck and returned it. Then we headed out to get the rental car which we then packed and went to get my parents and siblings from The Desert who got off work at 9pm. Once we got there, I unloaded the kittens to leave with the sister who was not coming with us and we were on the road around 1am. We were blessed with really great traffic and no accidents. I drove the first few hours and Tarzan slept, then I slept and he drove and we traded off all the way up to my brother's house and we pulled in there at 10:45am.

Tarzan, bless him, looked like this practically the whole trip:

He was unstoppable. Unfortunately I was not as virile. Anytime I sat down - especially Saturday - and wasn't actually speaking, I fell unconscious. This is one picture in which we were not asleep on that couch:

Sunday was much better, after a full night's rest, and when church was over my brother took us on a little trip to show off his town. I had not know the "sundial bridge" was so close to where he worked:

It's very tall and it's hard to get the whole thing in one shot:

My brother and LittleJ:

BabyR:

My brother and sister-in-law:

His whole family:

Me being totally cheesy with the daisies:

ATL and BHB creating optical illusions with the bridge:

Looking up at the spire from underneath by the water:
The Canadian geese who like the water:

BHB and me, and Tarzan sneaking in a smooch:

A bluejay in the tree:

I cannot believe this is the only shot I got of the creepy and very large spider that was hanging around:

It was pretty extreme. ATL and BabyR ignored it however in favor of happier things:

The whole gang in the shade of the bridge:

Then we wandered on over to the lake/dam/mountain spectacle that the whole place is named after:

ATL and BHB creating optical illusions with the dam:

Funny story; LittleJ wanted to walk around the lake and look at something so I went with him and took a picture of the rest of the family from our side with my 18X optical zoom lens. What with LittleJ wanting to stand on the side wall and everything it wasn't until we got home that I actually looked at the peeps I had snapped:

This is the group I really wanted:

And then it was time to go back home, have a BBQ dinner, sleep and hit the road pretty early in the morning so we could get back to The Jungle while it was still Monday.

This is me and the next time I get a new neice/nephew, remind me that it's better for everyone involved if I don't drive all night to get there.

Little Know Fact

More about the trip later but first I have to ask your opinion of Glee this week. I don't care how young they are, pregnant women just do not do that do they? I have never been pregnant so I don't know firsthand but I have met a few women who were expecting and they did not bend that way or jump that high. I suppose it's my fault I never asked them to try, but can you blame me? Also, I could have done without the chorus line behind Quinn and some of their bulges looked - and moved - a little funky. I know, none of them are actually pregnant but there is clearly an enormous costume budget for the show so they could get some better fake stomachs.
Clearly this show is not entirely based in reality but if we're going that far out of this galaxy why not have them in moon suits dancing through the stars?

This is me and I am deeply amused AND horrified by this show. At the same time. I will, of course, continue to watch it each and every week.

Edited For Time

Driving all night and going the next day with no sleep is not the novel lark that it was when I was twenty-four. I like my sleep, I need my sleep.
I have tons to tell you, pictures to post and it was a good trip but wow am I tired right now.

This is me and as you may have guessed, we are back. Can I ask you; WHAT was I thinking?