You Can't Make This Stuff Up

This is cool. I'd like to know what kind of job involves taking an elephant and an orangutan for a walk everyday.

Writing and Nunchucks

What do writing and nunchucks have in common? Well, let me tell you.

A few years ago I found a writing buddy on that fantabulous website Sparkpeople. We met on one of the writing groups and decided to do daily writing check-ins with each other. We'd set our individual goals, then report our status in our emails. If we met our goals, we'd get a "star" or a "thumbs up" or something like that. If one of us was slacking off, the other would threaten a "kick in the pants". It's amazing how accountability, encouragement, and the threat of a virtual kick in the pants can motivate you.

Well, our relationship has evolved over time. Our short, check-in emails are now long letters about everything from cats to movies to depression to religion to what we wore for Halloween. (When I say "we", I mean "her". I didn't dress up for Halloween, but since Evie had multiple costumes, I figure she covered that arena for both of us.)

Our rewards and punishments have changed a bit too. If we tackle a particularly challenging goal, we might be rewarded with three gold stars! If we need extra sternness, well, someone might threaten to pull out the nunchucks, and that generally takes care of the problem.

It was natural, then, that I would think of Evie when I went to the Moon Festival and saw a performance that not only involved nunchucks, but FLAMING nunchucks. Oh yeah, baby. I took this video just for her:





Course, the best thing about my writing buddy is that she's more than a writing buddy. In fact, due to various life circumstances, neither one of us is doing a whole lot of writing at the moment. But lulls happen sometimes and that's okay too. Meanwhile we're still there to offer each other encouragement and support through life's triumphs and trials, and while we may not be handing out too many "Gold Stars" these days, we're still giving plenty of "HUGS".

Shabby Chic?

I'm not sure what to call my holiday decorating style. It seems like it should have a name, but what do you call it when it's driven by speed, convenience, lack of funds, and children?

We have a grand total of six store-bought Halloween decorations that still manage to take up too much space in my closets. I let the children decide where these things should go, and this is what Ben did with half of them:

"Don't you think we should spread these out some?" I asked, as I started moving them away from each other.

"No," he said, moving them back. "The witch in the "Witch Workroom" [center] made a giant scarecrow and a giant pumpkin."

Now that's just cool.

A few days ago he brought home a craft from school - a fall tree made out of a brown paper lunch bag - and told me it needed to go behind the Witch Workroom. So we scooted that framed photograph back to make room.

I love looking at Ben's little collection. It makes me happy.

We also have Christopher's craft from school, hanging on our wall:

This led to the four of us making ghosts to add to our ensemble. I envisioned white ghosts with black eyes. You know, the usual. My children had something different in mind:



I didn't know ghosts could have teeth. Or, as Ben so helpfully labeled, spiders and guts:

John's even had arms, horns, and fangs. (Can you tell I live with boys? Can you??)

So, maybe shabby chic isn't really right. Maybe what I should call it is just... fun.

Blog Disconnect

I had an insight the other day. (Okay, it was a few weeks ago, I'm behind, but still...) I realized that something interesting happens when I'm experiencing something and simultaneously planning the blog I'll write about it. Taking pictures for the blog and making mental notes about what I should talk about tends to remove me from the experience.

Take, for example, our family's excursion to the Moon Festival.

It was a really cool event, but what I remember the most is taking pictures and videos. I remember other things too, and there was plenty of times when I wasn't taking pictures of course. But still. My mind was in blogging mode. And there's a strange disconnect that goes along with that.

I left the festival feeling a little disappointed. I wished I could go back in time and experience it more fully.

The following week we went to the zoo. I deliberately left my camera in my bag. I took one picture during the break at the water park. That was it. It was nice. I have good memories of that day.

I'm not saying I won't be blogging anymore. (Obviously!!!) I just think I need to be careful. There are things I want to write about, for sure. But more than that, there are things I want to live. I need to make sure the one doesn't interfere with the other.

Update

So my computer's been working since Saturday (HOORAY!!!) but I haven't had a chance to write a blog post yet. I still don't have time for the post I've been planning, but wanted to at least update on the all-important computer situation. Your lives can return to normal now. ;)

Waa waa waaaaaa!

That's me. Crying. Cuz our computer is dead. Well, maybe not dead. A fine fellow in our ward is trying to resurrect it for us. (Is that being blasphemous??) Anyway, my first concern is for our data, because you would think I'd have learned to back up regularly by now, but I haven't. I can't even think about my second concern, which is what it will cost to get a new computer if our current one gets sent to the morgue. I'm praying for it. Seriously.

So, if you don't see posts in awhile, that will be why. And if I'm not commenting on people's blogs, that'll be why. And if you see me driving down the street crying, that'll be why.

Okay, I'm only kidding about that last part.

Thank goodness for the library's public computers, even if they only give you an hour a day. I'll totally, totally take it!!!!

I'm Famous!

Okay, not really. But this is cool anyway.

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Check me out right HERE.

Cruisin' Christopher

So last Saturday, Chris decided he wanted the training wheels off his bike. This was after months and months of literally not touching his bike at all. So Brian took the wheels off, helped him get started a few times, and that was that. Chris was on his own.

It wasn't until we were at my mom's house later that day that I realized I should be taking pictures of his first bike ride sans training wheels. If it had been my first child, I'd have taken two rolls by then. Poor Chris.

But that's okay. I took lots of pictures AND wrote a blog post about it. So that proves I love him just as much as everyone else. ;)

I Could Keep Him Here Forever

You know, five days sure beats five hours. That's what Uncle Mike's previous two visits have been. About five hours. This time it was five days.

Still not enough.

I think my uncles should just move here. What do you think?

I didn't take hardly any pictures this time, but here are a few more random shots of the family get-together we had last Saturday.

Looky What I Found

See him?

Here's a better look. He's in the sun now, moving fast.

Yep. It's a three-foot long Bull snake. The fire department caught him once round the middle, then let him go and caught him near the head so I could get a better picture. (I swear, I did not ask them to do that.)



The guy decided to just hold him, but the snake was mad after so much handling and gave him a nice bite.

But they're harmless.

Mmm-hmmm.

Good for eating rattlers too, they said. Good for having around. I considered that for about ten seconds. Afterall, if a rattler decided to come into my yard, it'd be handy having something nearby that wasn't scared, just hungry. Still, even though my boys would've LOVED having this guy, I would just be too freaked out having him in my yard.

So, the nice fireman who wasn't afraid of a bitty snake bite walked him to the foot of the mountain one house down and let him go.

It was fun having Bull for a visit, but I hope he likes the mountain better. Maybe he'll find a nice, tasty rattler to snack on.

Thanks guys!

Ben's Bobcat

Ben is officially in cub scouts and he is LOVING it! This is his first official pack meeting, where he was introduced along with the other new Wolf scout:

This is after he received his Bobcat award. (Look at that cute little smile.)

John is in the Webelos den now which has been fun. Here he's receiving several awards he'd earned as a Bear, and one he's earned as a Webelos. They haven't had an awards pack meeting in awhile, and John missed the last one, so there was a lot of catching up to do!

This is a demonstration by the Bear den. They built their own radio. It was cool!

And this was the tree right by our van.

Apparently, it wanted to be climbed.

One Word

Fantastic.

Whether you have kids or not, this book is a must-read. Absolutely wonderful. If you do have kids, read it aloud to them. My whole family loved this book. We checked it out from the library (naturally) but we'll have to get our own copy. The beautiful illustrations are a bonus.

Snippets

Snippet #1

You guys are wonderful. Thank you so much for all the comments on my last post. I'm feeling much better now. :)

I, too, have read a few blogs where people are astonishingly honest about the trials they're going through. It's usually very inspiring. But that's not what I want my blog to be and that's okay. My journals cover the serious stuff just fine. My original intent for this blog was to keep in touch with long-distance family, and to create a cyber-version of my photo albums. (Since our photo albums are about a decade behind.) Between the two my personal history is pretty much covered.

An unexpected bonus about this blog is that it captures elements of my life I don't think would be captured any other way. Little things, but still part of my life. I tend not to journal about APOD, pizzokies, or funky sidewalks. But life, as they say, is in the details. I like having a place to put mine.

Snippet #2

Well, this is really more than a snippet but I'm fond of my title, so there you go. I finally heard back from the heart doctor and the results of the Holter monitor are in. No episodes. No nothing. And Christopher hasn't had any episodes since that really long one weeks ago. So HOORAY for that!!!

Snippet #3

I went to the park this morning, all by myself. It was lovely.

Just for the Record

Blogs are curious things.

My blog shows one little slice of my life. It's a very true slice, but if it's all you know about me, it gives a very skewed picture. Reading back over my entries, there's only a tiny hint of what this year has been for me. To be brief (and blunt) October through March was pure hell. March to now hasn't been as horrible, but it's still been extremely difficult. Truth be told, this is turning out to be a pivotal time in my life. There's been only one other time, eleven years ago, that changed me as deeply as this year has.

Most of the things I've been dealing with (and there have been several) are of the sort that I'm not going to talk about them on a blog. Or even with most of the people I know. Some people know one or two things, but very few know the whole story. And that's fine by me. I'm not saying any of this to whine or get sympathy.

My point is, sometimes I feel like these blog posts are a lie. The Carolina's one is a good example (and why I felt I had to write this post). Everything in the Carolina's post was true and we did enjoy ourselves. But what I didn't say was that the situation that prompted us to go was pretty serious, and that taking pictures for the blog was a grateful distraction from the somber events we were there to discuss. And truthfully, it was no where near the most stressful thing I've dealt with - I'm not trying to make it sound like it was life-changing or anything.

Still, I have zero desire to talk about any of those things here, but omitting all that makes the afternoon sound like a playful romp and nothing more. It makes me feel dishonest.

A good friend of mine made a comment to me about the discrepancy between this blog and my actual life. She's right. I've thought about this before. I'm not trying to be deceitful or paint a false picture. I'm just keeping private things private and leaving the rest. I know I'm not alone in this. But I feel funny about it sometimes. Does anyone else ever feel this way?

Edit: Just to clarify, my friend was not saying that in a negative way at all. It was just an observation - she was by no means the source of my guilt. I did that all on my own. ;)

Carolina's

Thursday Brian and I had an unexpected opportunity to have lunch together. He suggested a place he'd never been to before which had been recommended to him by a client. He described it as a "hole-in-the-wall" Mexican restaurant with great food. Sounded good to me!

We get there, and this is what we see:

Not only does it have a pay phone, it has a graffiti-laden pay phone.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask.

"I'd like to give it a try," he says.


"Will you protect me?" I ask.


"Yes."

See how willing he looks? Notice the tin shed behind him. Uh-huh. Okay then.

Well, we get inside and it's a bit, um, basic. You could also choose the words "old" or "run-down." A word you would not use is "charming." The concrete floor was peeling and the walls were bare... save for several magazine articles in cheap frames declaring the place one of "Phoenix's Best."

Magazines or no I'm still wanting to bail out, but Brian was all for it, so I agree to stay.

The food had better be good, I thought.

We placed our order at the counter fast-food style and got a number. There were several orders ahead of us, something I took to be a good sign. By this time a good five minutes had passed and no one tried to mug me, or even glare at me, so I started to relax.
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We went to get our drinks at the fountain. They had a station for Coke products, Pepsi products (to Brian's delight), and another for products with Spanish names I'd never seen before. Brian accidentally filled his root beer too high and some spilled on the floor. I grabbed a few napkins from a nearby table and held them out for him.

"What's that for?" he asked blankly.

"The floor."

"This floor?"

"You're right," and the napkins went back on the table.

We selected a spot and sat to wait. Several people came and went while we were there, and I'd never seen such a diversified clientele in one place before. We saw people of all colors, as you do just about anywhere in this city, and most the time we were in the minority. What was unusual, though, was the fact that we saw so many people whose appearances suggested a wide variety of backgrounds. We saw business men in shirts and ties, heavily tattooed girls, younger people dressed all in black, an elderly couple who looked like they came straight from Sun City, and men with scruffy beards and worn clothes who looked a step away from being homeless. I didn't see anyone who scared me.

Nevertheless, I wasn't too keen on drawing attention to myself. Here's a picture I furtively took from our table, flash off:

Can I be frank and say it's weird that I happened to take this picture when there were so many white folks in the house? When we first got there, we were in the minority, but most often there really wasn't a majority or minority of anything. I should've taken a few more pictures, at ten minute intervals say. That would've shown the cool variety people filtering in and out of this place.

Most importantly, here is the food:

I ordered the chimichanga. I have two words. Oh. Yum.

Brian ordered the flautas. I didn't take a picture of those, but I did take a bite and they were pretty good. Carolina's sells their freshly-made tortillas by the half-dozen, so we ordered some to take home.

The bag was comfortingly warm, and the tortillas?

Huge. My initial reaction to their taste was: "Not as good as I imagined." But they were pretty darn good, and now that we're finally out of them I'm tempted to go back for more.

So, final verdict? I'm glad we went. The food was good and, if nothing else, it was an experience. I don't think I'd ever take anyone there, but if Brian and I were in the neighborhood and felt like Mexican food, I'd be willing to stop in again.

Assuming the sun was still up.