The Graduate Cometh

I know, I know, I've been promising this post for weeks - literally weeks, gah - but I've been...I hesitate to say busy because that's lame - who isn't? - or occupied, that's too vague. Lazy might be more accurate but I'm not laying around watching television or playing Frontierville all day - really, I'm not - and I don't think I'm lacking motivation - it was a really great trip and we had a surprisingly good time. I want to share! (This missing post has been bugging me since we got back.) Maybe it's my lack of specific pictures.
Yeah, let's go with that.
And it's true in a way. I took a lot of photos, but not the ones you would think of. As it will become quickly obvious where we were I will save time trying to think of a cute name to disguise the town we visited. QC graduated in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah on Saturday, July 23rd. We flew into SLC Friday morning - we left at the ungodly hour of 4:30AM - again - why do we always DO that? - the ceremony and celebrations were Saturday and we came back Sunday afternoon. So there was time for sightseeing and relaxing which is a rarity on our vacations.
We stayed at a hotel that was literally across the street from Temple Square:

So I have a few photos of that building: Though it's smaller in real life than I thought it would be: I took a lot of pictures of Tarzan:
Tarzan with his Lebanon cedar tree:
He searched all over for this tree, having heard of it's notoriety - apparently it came from Jerusalem and once got trimmed incorrectly which created a wiggle in it's trunk - but not sure which of the many trees in the area it was. He asked every person who looked like they weren't tourists, scared a number of sister missionaries with his intensity and finally found the answer from a dude, dressed for the 100th anniversary of the Hotel Utah and who might have been around when the hotel opened.
What's fortunate is there are a lot of pictures of the actual graduation ceremony and since that was ostensibly the reason we went, I'm happy about that.

Rather wordy sign on the sports arena stairs:On the way in:

Gimme some tassel:Takin' my diploma:

All done graduatin':

After the ceremony we walked around Temple Square some more - there are a billion things to see there - randomly ran into a friend from school and his son:

And toured the conference center. It's ENORMOUS (This is not my picture):

I was impressed with the feat of engineering that enables every seat in the place to have an unobstructed view: That's right, no columns:
During one of the gallery walks, PhatFiddle, Liezel and Fuzzy (in utero):
In another huge space with pretty things on the wall, SBB (with Abe in utero), QC and MusicMan:
After all day interviewing, graduating, walking around and everything, he soon settled down in true QC fashion: Then came the feast of celebration wherein we all ate more than was probably healthy:On the way back to the hotel where we passed out this was the back seat:

Tarzan and me:

QC photobombing us:
Sunday the family was leaving at various times. Tarzan and I, having left our house at the most ridiculous hour we had, we did not rise with the dawn to go home. Again the proximity of Temple Square drew us in and we were able to see Music and the Spoken Word, which is broadcast every Sunday morning. I've heard it dozens of times but I have to say, nothing prepares you for the experience in person. This video is of the organist practicing the closing hymn the day before:

This is me and in all seriousness, Congratulations QC!

Yoga

As seen on my parents' living room floor yesterday and Friday morning:
This is me and two flexible siblings.

Pizza

What is it about cold pizza?
The first bite is fabulous and you figure you could eat the whole pie by yourself.
In fact, most of the first half of the first slice is excellent and you wonder why you don't eat your pizza this way all the time.
By the time you reach the crust, it's okay and if the bread is good, you finish it and it was nice.
The second slice isn't nearly as good and by the time you get to the end of it you don't feel well and can't stand to look at the other pieces in the box. So you wrap it up, put it in the fridge and hope that your husband will finish it before you have to see it again.
And then you burp pizza all night long.

This is me and it's much better in theory.

The Internet Returns

Aaaaand we're up and running again. Woot!
I guess the router just got old and died. We called the DSL people and they rushed out a replacement and it started right up so we're good.
I haven't forgotten the travelogue - it's in the works - and our project in the back yard is almost done - we're waiting on a few more pictures.
Is it sad that I have nothing to report after five days without Internet? You know how some people are SO! AMAZED! at how much stuff they got done when the cable/Internet/TV etc. was broken?
Not us.
Either the Internet doesn't matter or we don't do that much in the evenings on a regular basis.

This is me, connected again.

Curses

Just stealing a quick second here at work to let you know my Internet is broken - has been since Wednesday - but should be fixed by tonight or tomorrow.

I know you were crying in your pillows.

This is me, unconnected.

Exciting News

The travelogue will come soon - tomorrow maybe - but first, some exciting news from The Other Side Of The World. My sister, M2, her husband PIT - along with big brother Squishy and big sister Rosy - welcomed baby Ecru on July 12th:Barely into the 12th he was born a few minutes past midnight. Weighing in at a respectable 9lbs 7ozs and 21 inches long, he looks exactly like he belongs in the family:

Because they live so far away, we don't see my sister's children as they grow into each phase of their faces. It's a sudden thing instead of a gradual shift, so it was highly amusing to see how Rosy now looks EXACTLY like her mother and though Squishy has his father's chin, his expression and hair style is the twin of my baby brother, his Uncle SLB. Baby Ecru just looks disgusted with it all:

I delayed so long in posting because we didn't have a name until twenty minutes ago when it was posted on Facebook. (It's not real 'til it's on Facebook.) My sister is apparently inclined to have only girls as she has a dozen or so female names picked out and Rosy was christened almost before she opened her eyes. The boys however have each had to wait two or three weeks while an appropriate moniker was selected. Still, I expect little Ecru won't remember not having name, so it's okay:

This is me, Aunt again.

Best Houseguest EVER!

While Tarzan and I were gone, ATL had a friend over for the weekend.
We didn't mind; she's nice and they had fun and there was someone else to remember to feed and pet the cats.
Her plane left almost as ours got in so we didn't see her to say good-bye but look at what she left for us:

To thank us for letting her stay in our house!

This is me with the best houseguest EVER!

Procrastination

We're leaving town tomorrow morning - EARLY tomorrow morning - as in 4am tomorrow morning - to meet up with Tarzan's family for QC's graduation.
We've known for months now and we'll only be gone for three days.
So why have I left the packing and everything until a few hours before?
So that I can avoid this:Which is this:And this:

This is me, and it's every time we get ready to go.
P.S. There will be Internet but I am not bringing my laptop so I don't know if I will get to post. If not then definitely on Monday.

Or Something

I must be some kind of amazing. I went to pick up my book - granted, it's 1437 pages, so heavy though a paperback - it slipped and I broke my middle fingernail in three places and the adjacent ring fingernail in half.

This is me and there has to be a place for talent like that right?

To Jean Or Not To Jean?

Usually, I would not darken the door step of Wal*Mart. I some issues with the way they do business and all that. But I overheard a conversation - while in one of the many lines I stand in on a Saturday - where two ladies were discussing this brand of blue jeans. According to them, the jeans fit really well - with an actaul waist, not this hip hugging nonsense that is going on all over - are not rediculously expensive and are at Wal*Mart.
I am short and round and have a terrible time finding jeans that fit and look decent, and the one pair that I have that fits all the criteria is developing some holes in some not holy places.
So I went to Wal*Mart.
And there they were. Real jeans - not the pre-worn looking stuff with holes already in them - in my size, in EVERYone's size actually, with a Tall, Medium and Short for all the numbers too. There were various shades of ble and they fit. It was a pretty emotional moment.
So, do I buy them and become hypocritical because previously I wouldn't buy things at that store? Do I not buy them and possibly not find a good pair of jeans again? Don't laugh, it's happened before, my deciding to wait on an item because "I don't really need it right now" and then not being able to find it ever again. Ever.
So I'm stuck between my principles and being decently clothed. What is a girl to do?

This is me, caught on the horns of a dilemna

Sleepy

I am constantly amazed that cats can sleep in positions like they do:

This is me and he's a sleepy kitty.

To Be A Painter

I call it 'Still Life With Hydrangea':

This is me with a picturesque table.

Note For The Future

I learned something day before yesterday. Something about myself that I thought was true for years and years is not actually true.
I do not want an island in my future kitchen.
I KNOW! This is HUGE news!
For as long as I remember, any kitchen I have had the privilege to call my own has needed work. Improvements. Upgrades. And I thought for sure one of those would have been an island. Every kitchen you see in the movies or on TV has one. All the upgrade magazine include a new fancy island for the kitchens.
But after Wednesday's adventure I don't think I would like one.
My job is kind of vague in the description part. Basically I do whatever Aunt Richie asks me to do. I pay bills, Internet shop - this is a job?! - and then return things, label, file, laminate - there is a lot of that - help the books and art breathe, make and take and reschedule appointments. Occasionally I venture out of the office and into other areas of the house.
The other day she decided to make a tart with the fresh plums picked from her yard. Then stuff happened and she got distracted and in an attempt to stay on track asked if I would make the tart. I was flattered but a little overwhelmed to be let loose in her kitchen. I mean, our entire house would fit in her kitchen.
Seriously.
But I have also been a little anxious to be able to see all the cool tools she has and to play in such a fantastic space. So I dove in.
Let me tell you, it can put a girl off her game to have her employer, a granddaughter and all the house staff watch her make a quasi-fancy dessert in a strange kitchen. It was tough. And enlightening. The island kept getting in my way. Every time I wanted something, it was on the other side of the counter and I had to walk out and around. When the timer on the oven went off I was on the wrong side of the room and everyone came running before I managed to get it turned off. (They don't use the oven timer much.) Granted, Aunt Richie's kitchen is HUGE and the island in the middle is more than four feet across, so really it's like another room inside the room, but still. Having to go around to reach things, or reach across; much more inconvenient than I would have imagined. And unless I can get what I want and where I need to be without a half marathon it's not going to be worth it.

This is me and that's what I learned at work.

Peculiar

How is it the best breeze in the house comes through the bathroom window?


This is me, and is it too weird if I sleep in the shower?

At Long Last - The Explanation

So about this new job I have.
A few weeks - about six now - Tarzan was super anxious about his layoff notice, there were no jobs here in the Jungle and we were planning moves to other states and countries around the globe.
(Just covering all the bases you see.)
Because I love this city, my house, my cats and my fruit trees, I offered to look for a job too, around here, just in case. Before the words were completely out of my mouth the phone rang. It was Tarzan's cousin asking if I had some free time to spend helping her mom, Tarzan's Aunt Richie. She's a very particular woman and her daughter doesn't have the patience to spend do things her mom's way. But she thought I might do well at it. (Patience? Meticulousness? Have they even met me?)
Tarzan accepted for me on the spot, then hit his knees in thankfulness.
And that's how I became a personal assistant for a wealthy woman.
I am not sure how I feel about this whole change of situation now that I've been there for a while. The money and the hours aren't bad - she let's me have my Thursdays off so I can still volunteer at the food bank place - and it's certainly not difficult work. Aunt Richie tries hard to separate between personal and professional and it's been fairly easy to maintain that line. She's very generous and except for the commute - which is terrible, about an hour each way, oy - it's a very cushy job.
I think what bothers me the most is the loss of my disposable time. I can't plan meals the way I used to, there's no running to the store when the produce shipment comes in so I get the pick of the sale items, I've been forgetting to pay the bills, there's less time to do the chores, Tarzan has to pick up ATL from work most nights....I just miss doing what I needed to when I wanted to. Previously I tried to do the housework, shopping and bill paying when Tarzan was at school so when he came home I could be less distracted. That's less and less possible since he beats me home most every night now.
I know what you're thinking; if this is your biggest complaint in life Jane, you're a lucky girl. And it's true, I shouldn't whine. It's a good job and I am learning her system, which is particular but not hard or illogical. Things could be worse. Heck, they have been much worse.

This is me, employed once more.

This Was A Good One

I just discovered the marvel that is Pandora radio. What a brilliant idea. Start me off with a song I already know I like, reccommend others that are like it, then let me pick whether I like it a lot, a little, or not at all. The ones I don't like aren't offered again. The ones I do like are fodder for the next selections and as it goes along I found they do better choosing what I like. I can also make up more than one 'station' in case, as I do, one like classical AND 80's rock AND Josh Groban AND the Motown label.
It's awesome.
Though there still are commercials, they are short, singular and not obnoxious.

This is me with a radio station that I really like.

Oh My Berry Goodness

I got a berry:

Well, three:

Okay fine, there were five berries.
I ate two already just to check and make sure they are, in fact, blackberries.
And they are! It's fantastic.
I probably need to recant my exasperation over the blackberry vine incident. It turns out that blackberries are a bi-annual plant, which means they grow one year and blossom the next. It's kind of sad to only get berries every other year, so what most growers do is have two vines planted next to each other. When one is growing the other is making fruit. After the harvest the old vines are cut back and the ones for next year can get bigger. It's an intriguing system. One I hadn't figured out how I was going to implement until I noticed that the vines that came from Tarzan's grandfather had blossoms, and the ones that had been cut back where now growing:So I ended up with what I had wanted, and all because the neighbor had been helpful. Maybe I should take him cookies - he felt really bad.

This is me, with renewed hope in my - pale - green thumb.

This Would Have Been Lengthy

I wrote an excellent - if I do say so myself - thoughtful, well-composed, balanced post in response to Newsweek's article this week The Mormon Moment. It was long and complex and really one of my best works.
Then Blogger ate it. And I can't get it back.
And now I am annoyed at Blogger and upset at Newsweek which is not a good place.

This is me, apologizing for deficiencies in the machinery.

More Like Bringer Of Confusion

95% of you know more about music than I do, so it with great trust and complete seriousness that I ask; what is the deal with Jupiter?
Opus No. 32 - otherwise known as Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity - from the suite The Planets, by Gustav Holst is one of my favorite pieces of music:

But I do not understand it.
It was played on the classical radio station the other day on my way to work (more about that soon) and I was pleased to be able to hear the whole piece start to finish. I was also curious to know how it would sound after hearing the tinny totally-not-professionally-recorded version on my phone for so long. Part of Jupiter is my ring tone.
The beginning of the piece is fine, upbeat and jumpy - bringer of jollity, sure, I get that - and about three minutes in comes the greatest 1:53 of music known to man. I love that blurb right there. I tried for days to get the best copy I could for my phone and it never gets old when I hear it. But after the awesome swell and drums and strings...it trails off like someone forgot where they were and picks it back up further in. Yes, it references that minute fifty-three again but it's such a distinct movement with that weird ending and I don't know why it's like that.

This is me and what don't I know?

Are They Kidding?

Who, I ask you, WHO makes a movie like Bad Teacher, right now, in this political climate?
WHO?!
What with the whole thing in Wisconsin between the teachers, the administration and the state and then here Tarzan was issued a pink slip in March, apparently there isn't enough money to keep funding the libraries so just let the kids check out the books to themselves - and back in again, HA! - and even though some of these librarians have 20+ years with the school district let's kick them out because they aren't 'relevant' because they haven't been in a classroom and for kicks let's have them removed to a smelly, leaky, basement somewhere so they can beg for their jobs from some lawyer who's making $500 an hour to mock them and say high school is easy. Then, when the humiliation is over the state realizes they have "miscalculated" the expected income for next year and maybe they won't fire them all after all.
Into this hoo-hah let's release a movie about a sub-par teacher who - in the trailer's own words here - is "a foul-mouthed, junior high teacher who, after being dumped by her sugar daddy, begins to woo a colleague -- a move that pits her against a well-loved teacher."

This is me and Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Batman?

One Of Those Days

I try to be efficient, I do.
What with being suddenly back in the workforce - post about THAT to come soon - my time is not as flexible as it had been - even when I was helping my parents out every week and that's still going really well - and I like to get as much done in one trip as I can. Makes me feel good to leave the house and come back with half a dozen things off my To-Do list.
I got home a little later than usual today from the Cannery where I volunteer and needed to do a few things before dinner. Get gas in my car, visit the post office, the bank, the store, the usual stuff.
So, I headed out the door with the reusable grocery bags, because I love the environment; my book, because the lines are way long at the stores in our neighborhood; a movie to return, the grocery list, my purse and my car keys. First stop was for gas, and in the resulting exhilaration of paying less than $4.00 a gallon, I mailed the grocery list along with the Netflix envelope.

This is me and days like this happen all too frequently.

Teething

Not that I remember the last time I had a tooth come in but I would swear that's what's going on in my mouth right now. It started all of a sudden and it really hurts. I can't chew on the right side and the left is getting very tired.

This is me and I will see the dentist on Saturday.

One Year Old

Here you are, the first intallment of a series I have entitled: Posts I Am So Late In Getting Up People Will Forget That They Even Cared.
Catchy yes?
So, about the kittens, you remember the kittens don't you? Chubbs and Spike:The kittens were born in May, May the 4th and their first few weeks of life were chronicled here, here and here.
And that, ladies and germs, is when I totally dropped the ball.
I meant to post about Week Four. I even started an entry in which I whined thusly - "Instinct schminstinct.
I would like to know who decided kittens will "instinctively" dig in the litter when they have to poo or lap at the bowl with warm food in it. It's not instinctive at all. They don't want to lick my finger or the bowl to get the food they can get much easier from the bottle - which they now recognize and will claw my hand to reach.
They don't want to dig in litter and get it between their toes if I will clean them instead.":But I never published it. That was the weekend we went North to see my brother. There was sleep deprivation involved, Week Four ran into Week Five in which I was driving people around town amid random errands and emergencies. They did of course learn to feed themselves:And use the litter box, which was fortunate because then came Week Six and holy sha-moleys people.
Remember when I mentioned there might be a third kitten we thought we heard under the house? We assumed it must have died because we didn't see the mother and the mewing stopped. You know what they say about assumptions...This is as far as I got with the post after a grey striped kitten wandered up onto the back porch looking for food - "Well she's now ensconced in our bathroom along with the other two."
Yeah:And we were out the door again for PhatFiddle's wedding. (Which will be installment #2 of Posts I Am So Late In Getting Up People Will Forget That They Even Cared.) That encompassed Week Seven.
Week Eight started like this "As you may have heard, we missed our connection coming home from that adventure, church was early the next morning and so it wasn't until we got home from THAT that we noticed what looked like Spike running around outside with Drool. But wait, it gets better. Not Spike - we checked - but a FOURTH kitten who looks exactly like Spike:Yes, Drool, had four kittens, kept two for herself and shared the other two with me. Sweet, I know."
We took a short trip out to my parents house one weekend to give them the two "new" kittens, christened Bruno (grey stripes) and Boots (Spike's twin).
By that time I was so far behind in the weekly posts it was just silly:More weeks became months and here we are at one year old already.But in case you cared then, now or ever, these are the kittens at one year old. Spike:Who - at nine pounds - is still smaller than Chubbs. She might even have a different father for the way they are growing. She is mostly an indoor cat. On occasion she goes out but cars, birds or a passing breeze usually have her back at the door trying to come in.Chubbs is huge - he's eleven pounds and those two pounds sure make a difference:He loves the outdoors and as soon as I get up in the morning he's at the back door crying to go out. I'm not sure what the others think of him or he of them. They chase each other whether in fun or not I can't tell. There are eight others outside though so they deal. Chubbs does come back - nearly of his own accord - every evening. They are both good eaters but we have to watch them because since they think they're people they figure they can eat people food:They are both a little less cuddly than they were but they still come when I call and still try to sleep with us at night. It usually ends with them in a long black line of kitty on my outside edge and me wedged between them and Tarzan. And Tarzan is still alternately charmed and annoyed by them both.
They were both at the vet this morning getting medicine for tapeworms and ATL thought I should make my Facebook status "The cats have worms and the prosecution didn't want me."

This is me, Happy Birthday Spike and Chubbs!

Reverse Decision

Many of you know that I am one of twelve people in this country who don't start making up excuses when the jury summons comes in the mail. Maybe because of that I get called to serve with amazing regularity.
And it was my turn again on this April.
But this was the weirdest turn at the courthouse I have ever had.
I showed up the first day, just like usual and we got the lame orientation speech, complete with jokes no one laughs at, as usual. They called the first panel and I was on it, as usual.
Then it became not usual.
We met one of the courthouse employees in the hallway where we were given a piece of paper with our instructions to return for the jury selection process.
In two weeks.
So I waited two weeks, through Tarzan's spring break, trips to my parents' house and came on the 24th as instructed. That was a Monday. The judge - in a manner that was WAY too chipper - told us it was a murder case we were being selected for and, AND! the death penalty was a possible outcome. We were given a thirty 30! page questionnaire to fill out, mostly about our stance on capitol punishment and then we were told to come back on Friday of that week. We were to learn later that there were two panels of 75 people each they were pulling from - and the judge had other cases she was hearing - so we were only getting 35% of her attention.
My situation is such that these weird schedulings were only inconvenient but there were others in the group who were getting a lot of flak from their bosses - who were paying for their jury service - and it made for irritable jurors in the hallway. Especially when buses were late or broken and we had to wait over an hour for people to arrive. People who didn't call to explain to the judge why they weren't coming. Which made the bailiff - who was adorable and I may have developed a slight crush on - exasperated as he had to try and find these latecomers. (The rule is we can't start anything in court unless everyone is there.)
On top of that, on Friday, first the judge and then the lawyers for both sides got a crack at us, individually and as a group and the whiplash from the defense attorney's jokes, quips and attempts to be all nicey-nicey and friendly to the District Attorney who was anything but, left me feeling very tired and anxious, something I have never been before when jury duty was involved. The day's events left me with a distinct icky feeling towards the defense attorneys and genuine respect for the People's lawyers which surprised me. The judge dismissed us early that day - apparently she was tired and cranky too.
We were to come back on Tuesday, which was today.
Now, I didn't want to be a juror for this case. It wasn't quick or easy - as other cases had been - and the descriptions of the evidence was not making me want to become involved. The D.A., though I respected him for his approach to the possible outcome of the case, made me take a closer look at my own views on capitol punishment - I had always been in favor of it, I'm big on justice - and it's a lot more complicated and a much harder decision than I had thought it would be. I wasn't sure I could do it.
With all the discussion and questions we had had earlier it wasn't supposed to take long to select the twelve jurors and two alternates and when they called me to sit in the jury box I figured that was it. Never have I been called to sit in one of the twelve seats and then been dismissed. If I sit there, I am on the panel, so I resigned myself to four weeks of testimony and evidence and then a long and possibly hard decision in the deliberation room.
And then the prosecution said I was thanked and excused.
I don't think it's vanity to say I was a little stunned. I thought the prosecution like me. It never occurred to me to lie when an attorney asked a question and I think I answered them all firmly and with resolution. I could understand that the defense wouldn't have wanted me to stay. The man - a white man - was accused of killing his wife - a white woman - for financial gain. But the prosecution should have wanted me to stay.
I'm not supposed to speculate as to why they didn't keep me on the jury but I did feel slightly let down as I waited for the elevator back to the jury assembly room. Which is weird because I didn't want to serve at all and then when I couldn't I wanted to.
Like I said, a very different jury service process this time around.

This is me, oddly regretful.

Berry Miracle

It looks as if one of the replacement vines Tarzan and I got from his grandfather's house - a replacement for the ones that were inadvertantly cut down a few weeks ago - the replacement vines we planted, fenced and have been dilligently keeping the cats from sleeping on - has blossoms! Two really, big blossoms:It's a berry vine miracle! (Or a really good growing year. All that sun and water.)

This is me and I might get an actual berry or two this year after all.

My Feet

While waiting my turn in the temple Wednesday night I noticed that my feet are not symmetrical.
I may have mentioned previously that my feet are not the same size which makes shoe shopping an adventure. (Where can one buy a pair of shoes where the right foot is a half size larger than the left? That's what I thought.)
Now it looks as though my feet may have come from two different places altogether.
Let's just start at the beginning.
The big toes; the right one is bigger and more bent than the left. The left has a larger callus - from all those years spent running barefoot before we freaked out over broken glass and nails on the sidewalk - and a weirder toenail.
The second toes; the right one is longer than the big toe on the same foot but is very straight. The left one is not longer than the big toe on that foot but it is twisted so the nails can touch each other.
The middle toes; are pretty normal though the left one is shorter and thinner than it's equal on the right foot.
The fourth toes; are both curved but the left is curved A LOT, such that the nail is almost behind the middle toe. And on both feet the fourth toes are A LOT shorter than the middle ones. Like they were leftovers from a smaller model.
Last but not least, the baby toes; the right one is bigger but the left one can stretch a lot farther away from it's neighbor than the right one.
I had a long time to examine my feet.

This is me, and it's weird the things one notices.

Asking For A Ticket

Saw a teenager driving a beat up old car today.
Seat laid back nearly horizontal.
And his left foot was out the window.
OUT the WINDOW!
He could barely reach the steering wheel let alone control the vehicle.

This is me and that is how traffic on the freeway ends up a mess.

Easter 2011

So yesterday a friend from church came over to help Tarzan change out our water heater - which was leaking and apparently 1/256th away from flooding the entire shed and backyard - and I wanted to do something nice for him. Today being Easter I thought I'd make some cupcakes and decorate them all cute.
It was doomed from the start; I was out of oil. Being the kitchen diva I am, I used melted butter.
ATL thought white cake was too boring so she encouraged me to add sprinkles to the batter. The colors ran and bled all together.
Then when they were finally baked I dared to test one. Tarzan thought it tasted excellent but the bottom ripped off with the paper.
I finished the process, dyed the icing and all that so they looked pretty:But the insides were all green-y grey and they ripped when taking the paper off, so I couldn't in good conscience give them to anyone. So we kept them.
Tarzan was okay with it.

This is me and I'll just have to think of something else.

Friday Night

While at the social function of the week - a fundraiser for the young women at church - Tarzan managed, with a single sentence, to make all six missionaries in the room blush beet red simultaneously.
Even the African-American one.

This is me, amused and mortified all at once.
(Read the comments if you want the whole story.)

Scheduling

You know you're busy when you have to put 'Take Shower' on your to-do list to make sure you get one that day.

This is me and it's par for the course right now.

Ode For A Busy Man's Birthday

Dear Tarzan,
This year I'm very glad I do these 'odes' which some think are silly - maybe they are - because you are so stressed and preoccupied right now you haven't got the time to spend but one day you can come back and reread my birthday wishes for you.
I wish you a job that you love, with none of the bureaucratic silliness that gets in the way of doing a good job.
I wish you time. TIme to spend on all the things you want to learn and share and find and be.
I wish you the desire to grow and progress but contentment with our place right now.
I wish you joy in the work that is life, happiness in the journey and laughter together.



This is me and Happy Birthday honey!

So Sue Me

I know, it's been a long time. No excuses. Just more of the same, I am not dead and don't want to bore you with repetition. Aren't I the nice one?

This is me with nothing.

Merryweather

Flora, Fauna...and Merryweather.
I don't have anything to say about the weather - other than it's raining AGAIN - but when I hear one, I can't NOT think of all three:
Plus, Merryweather is the more practical of the group and they never listen to her. We have a connection.


This is me and Sleeping Beauty is my favorite Disney movie.

Fauna

**Disclaimer - unlike the flower pictures which were all taken by me, with my own camera, most of these animals were not. The animals are less stationary than the flowers and I don't have the skillz.**
The first dozen times visiting my parents it seemed a barren, boring place. Dry, sandy, brown, hot and that's it. But as we learned in the last post it's all about looking around - that and a lot of rain - and noticing what is there even if it's not so visable.
This is the animal life - that we've actually seen - from The Desert.
We see this Egret (Ardea Alba) twice a year. He stops by on his migration we think. This picture was one of ours:We aren't sure what the Coyote (Canis Latrans) was eating in the back yard but he was not to be moved from it so we snapped a couple of good shots:These Desert Quail (Callipepla Gambelii) are everywhere. Small and quick but majorly indecisive. Will they cross the road or not? Or stop in the middle of the lane, look at the car and imagine themselves invisible: There have been several Black-Tailed Jackrabbits (Lepus Californicus) hopping through the yard this spring:There are actual Roadrunners (Geococcyx californianus) which are much smaller than the cartoons would have you think but just as fast. I don't see the Coyote, wily or not, catching one of these things: The Ground Squirrels (Spermophilus tereticaudus) are TINY and can be mistaken for leaves or dirt blowing across the road very easily:Technically this is not an animal - the Desert Spider Beetle (Cysteodemus armatus):But we've seen an increased number of the blister beetle family and figure it can only be the rain.

This is me and this concludes our nature lecture. You all get an A.