Just One More

I am NOT addicted to Blogthings. Seriously. I hit them about once a year. But I read Chana's post about this one, and I was curious. What time of day would they think I am? BWAhahahahaha!

You Are Midnight

You are more than a little eccentric, and you're apt to keep very unusual habits. Whether you're a nightowl, living in a commune, or taking a vow of silence - you like to experiment with your lifestyle. Expressing your individuality is important to you, and you often lie awake in bed thinking about the world and your place in it. You enjoy staying home, but that doesn't mean you're a hermit. You also appreciate quality time with family and close friends.

What Time Of Day Are You?

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Blogthings Memes About SCONE


1. You Have a Melancholic
Temperament
Introspective and reflective, you think about everything and anything.
You are a soft-hearted daydreamer. You long for your ideal life.
You love silence and solitude. Everyday life is usually too chaotic for you.

Given enough time alone, it's easy for you to find inner peace.
You tend to be spiritual, having found your own meaning of life.
Wise and patient, you can help people through difficult times.

At your worst, you brood and sulk. Your negative thoughts can trap you.
You are reserved and withdrawn. This makes it hard to connect to others.
You tend to over think small things, making decisions
difficult.

What Temperament
Are You?

2.

You Belong in London

You belong in London, but you belong in many cities... Hong Kong, San Francisco, Sidney. You fit in almost anywhere. And London is diverse and international enough to satisfy many of your tastes. From curry to Shakespeare, London (almost) has it all!

What
European City Do You Belong In?

3.

You Were a Peacock

You carry yourself with beauty, dignity, and confidence. You are able to see the past, present, and future with clarity.

What
Animal Were You In a Past Life?

4.

Your Inner Blood Type is Type A

You seem cool and collected, though a bit shy. You are highly driven and a perfectionist, but that's a side you keep to yourself. Creative and artistic, you are a very unique person who doesn't quite fit in. People accept you more than you realize, seeing you as trustworthy and loyal. You are most compatible with: A and AB Famous Type A's: Britney Spears and Hilter

What's Your
Inner Blood Type?

5.

You Have Low Self Esteem 24% of the Time

Generally, you feel pretty darn great about who you are, even when you mess up or fail. Occasionally, a huge setback will make you question yourself, but you pick yourself up quickly.

How is Your Self
Esteem?

6.

What Your Face Says

At first glance, people see you as strong willed and stubborn. Overall, your true self is passionate and physical. With friends, you seem dramatic, lively, and quick to react. In love, you seem like a huge flirt. In stressful situation, you seem like you're oblivious to the stress.

What Do
People Think Of Your Face?

7.

You Are a Chocolate Chip Cookie

Traditional and conservative, most people find you comforting. You're friendly and easy to get to know. This makes you very popular - without even trying!

What Kind of
Cookie Are You?

8.

You Are a Boston Creme Donut

You have a tough exterior. No one wants to mess with you. But on the inside, you're a total pushover and completely soft. You're a traditionalist, and you don't change easily. You're likely to eat the same doughnut every morning, and pout if it's sold out.

What Donut Are
You?

9.

Your Power Level is: 75%

You're a very powerful person, and you know that all of your power comes from within. Keep on doing what you're doing, and you'll reach your goals.

How Powerful Are
You?

10.

Brainy Kid

In high school, you were acing AP classes or hanging out in the computer lab. You may have been a bit of a geek back then, but now you're a total success!

Who Were You In
High School?

11.

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few. But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski

If
Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

12.

People Envy Your Ingenuity

You're a person with unique ideas, big plans, and a zany outlook on life. Many people look to you for inspiration. People envy your creativity and "who cares?" attitude. They feel very ordinary next to you - and they usually are!

What Do
People Envy About You?

13.

Your Life Path Number is 11

Your purpose in life is to inspire others Your amazing energy draws people to you, and you give them great insight in return. You hold a great amount of power over others, without even trying. You have the makings of an inventor, artist, religious leader, or prophet. In love, you are sensitive and passionate. You connect with your partner on a very deep level. You have great abilities, but you are often way too critical of yourself. You don't fit in - and instead of celebrating your differences, you dwell on them. You have high expectations of yourself. But sometimes you set them too high and don't achieve anything.

What Is Your
Life Path Number?

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. astrocoz
2. Surrender Dorothy
3. Jen
4. Heather
5. Julie
6. Denise
7. Yellow Rose
8. Chana


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Another Thing About Where I Live

So, I was just thinking a couple days ago, "Gee, we've probably seen the last of the snow for this spring... surely we have..." After all, we've had sunshine and temperatures between 75 and 90 for several weeks. Even a 40-degree drop wouldn't be enough to bring snow. Rain would be nice, though...

Would you believe a 50-degree drop?

Don't Call Us...

I just had another long-distance interview, this time for a job in the place I grew up. I don't think I made a good impression. Or maybe they're just not that interested in filling the position quickly. I don't know. The woman I talked to said she'll probably call me in a couple weeks to talk about maybe bringing me out for an interview. Maybe.

Oh, here's another guilty pleasure I left off my T13 yesterday: traveling without my kids. Whee, what fun. I feel terrible about it, but it helps me remember that I (at least used to) have another facet to my identity besides "Mama." Did any of that make sense? I'm going to lie down now.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen of Scone's Guilty Pleasures 1. Chocolate. Of course. 2. More chocolate. No seriously. 3. Marshmallow Peeps-- they're not just once a year. 4. Naps. Mine and the kid's. (Yes, only one kid.) 5. Going barefoot. Especially in summer. 6. #5 is getting to be less of a pleasure since my feet went bad. Mostly it just hurts now. 7. Blogging. 8. Reading other people's blogs. 9. Reading just about anything else, especially British mysteries. 10. Blowing off other responsibilities to just play with my kids. 11. Especially the Pirates! game. 12. Playing The Sims 2, even though the last 2 expansions sucked. Sigh. 13. The Indian song from Disney's Peter Pan-- I know, I know, it's totally un-PC and revolts the modern sensibility; I think what I mostly like is the running-about-madly-uttering-war-whoops part. I guess I just feel the need to yell. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. TLC 2. Nikk 3. Chaotic Mom 4. Carmen 5. Surrender Dorothy

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Wednesday Wondering

I'd really like to know:

• What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen 150-pound cast-iron table as it goes flying up and over the deck railing toward the neighbor's yard?

and

• How big a person could that same wind lift? ("Wendy, I can fly!")

I can see my kids getting a big kick out of that.

Those Who Do Not Study History...

So #1 Son tells us tonight that at "Mommy's" church (supposedly Lutheran and actually her husband's, not hers), his Sunday class learned that the Lutheran church came about because Martin Luther didn't believe in tithing. Um, don't you mean indulgences? No, he's certain they said tithing.

((Here Scone pinches her eyes together and rubs her aching head but does not actually quote Malachi 3:8-10.))

Well, that would explain a few things Miss Thing has said. It explains why their biggest point of doctrine seems to be that churches that teach tithing are evil and that all their members are going to hell and should therefore be screamed at. On the other hand, it doesn't explain how this group can teach whatever they want and still call themselves Lutheran. Our dear friends down the street are quite strongly Lutheran and have never heard of such a thing in their church. Is that normal? These congregations are less than 100 miles apart, not on opposite sides of the world or anything. Anybody know what's up here?

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about WHERE SCONE LIVES The climate here is sunny and dry. Very, very dry. Bleeding skin dry. But it keeps me from getting attacks of seasonal depression. Usually. People elsewhere usually think we're constantly buried under snow and ice. If that were true, I'd have gone screaming out of my mind long ago. We do have plenty of wildlife--skunks in particular. I think one has made a burrow under our deck. Houses around here are fascinating. Some are tiny little gingerbread houses, some are massive and ostentatious. Some (of all sizes) have bronze statues on their front lawns. I hear that we're now part of an "X-YZ metro area" (think Dallas-Ft. Worth). Our part of the area (X) is undergoing rapid expansion-- new houses going up everywhere. The YZ part of the metro area is now full of empty storefronts. It's spooky. I blame the New Mall. We have about 10,000 banks here. Of the new construction, about 1 in 5 lots is going to have a bank on it. We are getting no new gas stations, though, despite the fact that they are at least 5 miles apart in our area. Well, at least we only have one place to sink our money. We are also getting a new hospital, although our town (X) has one already, and so does YZ. There are less than 200,000 people in the area. Guess the banks were bored. YZ contains the best school in the state and several other excellent charter schools. X has things that pass for schools, but only barely. People here are trying to shut down that best school and preferably the other good ones, 'cause it's not fair that some kids get to go to good schools while others don't. Huh?? Tell me in what world that makes sense. In the medians along the interstate in this area, they've put up barriers made of several steel cables strung along deeply buried steel poles. They can take the top right off any car that bumps into them (I have seen it). But then there are these signs every so often: STAY OFF MEDIAN. Again: huh?? Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. Momma M 2. Nancy 3. Surrender Dorothy 4. LifeCruiser 5. Yellow Rose

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Monday Motivation

I'm feeling down and discouraged. My health has been deteriorating in ways that are scary. My kids are out of control with spring fever, my house is a wreck, I have to work on this white paper but I'm hating it more every day. I have a lesson to prepare for writers group Wednesday, and the wonderful dear person I'm trying to collaborate with is going to wonder why I haven't been working on the book to our musical. And I feel I really need to write cards or letters to a few people and I never get around to it.

And in the middle of all this, Satan Herself starts another firestorm over the Easter break that #1 Son gets this year: "What do you mean, I don't get to take all 6 days instead of the usual 1?" Nevermind that the court docs specify 1 day. Whatever Miss Thing wants, Miss Thing had better get, or there'll be... well you know what to pay. And #1 Son doesn't want to get in the middle of it, though he's the only one who can. And he's whining that he still has homework to do even though it's bedtime as if it's my fault he spent 45 minutes on the phone to Miss Thing about nothing in particular and as if it's my fault he didn't do his homework over the weekend because after all, it was his time with Mommy and there were all these parties to go to...

I'm about ready to crawl into a hole and cry. I can't succeed at the tasks before me no matter what I do, the pain is driving me slowly mad, and I'm a failure as a mother. That's how I feel.

Well, felt. As he was lying on the bed kicking me in the face during storytime tonight, Punkin Boy started singing, "Old King Cole." My mind grabbed hold of that; the old boy apparently was an ancestor of mine-- a rather successful Norwegian king back in the far olden times. And suddenly, I remembered where I come from. I come from the land of Valkyries, of strong warriors and successful raiders. I come from people who would spit on the minor troubles that surround me now. I felt them then, Vikings in armor swirling around my head, strong, defiant, utterly capable.

Hand me my axe; I've got some writing to do.

Career Discovery

The saga continues... In the car on the way to school yesterday, #1 Son piped up from the back seat, "I've figured out what kind of scientist I want to be when I grow up!" He hadn't been able to decide on a specialty: geologist, veterinarian, botanist, chemist, etc., so we were excited. "What kind is that?" we demanded, all aflutter.

"An electrician!"

Eureka.

Art Part 2

Now you've probably read my April 1 entry (which by the way was not a joke) and thought, "Gee, she's pretty harsh." But really, I just hate to see people I care about banging their heads against the wall for no good reason. If Plan A doesn't work, try Plan B. And keep trying and revising until you get positive results. It only makes sense. Nonsense is fun for a while, but it's no way to run your life. Not really.

The day after the P/T conference, #1 Son mentioned that he'd had art class that day. So I asked how his teacher had liked his sketch that was their previous assignment. He shrugged. "All right," he muttered.

"No way," I said. "That drawing was awesome. What did your teacher say when she saw it?"

He squirmed, but eventually admitted, "She said it was the best drawing she'd ever seen in fifth grade."

I thought so. The boy's got artistic talent coming out his ears and spilling off his fingers. I will so kick his butt if he stifles it.

His Own Medicine

This week they had parent-teacher conferences at #1 Son's school, and we got to see his grades for the quarter. Actually, I sat out in the car with a sleeping toddler while The Man went and talked to the teacher. When he came back out, he said, "We need to stop giving this guy white bread, and take all the sugar out of his diet." Then he proceeded to tell me about something unrelated that happened in his class that day.

I scowled. Not that I didn't want to hear about his day, because I did. I just really wanted to hear the more urgent news at the time. Well, said TM, #1 Son is probably better suited to being an artist or writer than a scientist or mathematician (which is what he wants to be-- one of those). He got out the report card and pulled the Pollyanna routine that he's so incredibly good at. "Got a B+ in art, an A in karate, an A in music..." (I hope no one heard my gasp, but the boy is, after all, tone deaf.)

After saying something congratulatory like, "That's great, kiddo!" we noticed that #1 Son was in the back seat sobbing. "I don't want to be an artist!" he wailed.

Sigh. So I asked how the rest of his grades were. Spelling: F, science: F, 4th-grade math: D+. Wait, D+? Wasn't he getting a B a few weeks ago? What's up there? No clue forthcoming from the back seat. Composition: C-, Reading: C-, Spanish: C. Well, there's a bright spot. Hey wait, he's got a B+ in history/geography. Excellent! "You don't have to be an artist after all-- you can major in history!"

Louder wails from the back seat. "But I want to do math and science!"

At this point, TM went into lecture mode. You know, about going with your strengths, it's no shame not to be good at everything, or even at the things you really want to be good at. The advice about not burying your talents. You know the spiel.

At some point in this tirade, I burst out laughing and just couldn't stop. My darling husband is an entertaining and creative writer (visit him here), not to mention a budding artist. But he's taking calculus I for the third time (this time, we're gonna pass, darn it!) in an effort to get a biomedical/computer science degree. It would be a really cool degree, honey, in a really cool field, but, um, are you listening to yourself?

I don't know whether he'll re-evaluate his career path, but I'm guessing not. Got to set an example for the kids, you know.

Pic from our Trip

Check this out:

Punkin Boy loves his newest cousin.
We love her too.

Saga Update

It's only fair that I should give a quick update on our week's adventure. First of all, The Man's gone back to that faraway town to pick up our car after repairs. (New axle, anyone?) Great. At least it's not snowing this time.

Punkin Boy has been saying "We're driving this car. Our car is in [Faraway Town Name]" for a couple days now. He's getting a kick out of our rental car, a brand-new (doesn't even have license plates), strangely retro Nissan Altima. Mostly, I think he likes it because he can get into it without a rope harness and pitons. (No, our car's not really that big, but exaggeration is funny, see?)

OK, so what else is going on? Pirate Boy has been giving his younger brother Spanish lessons, which is kinda cool. And Punkin Boy has been studying U.S. geography, which is awesome. He knows at least half of the states by shape, and can place them in the right spot on a map. I love the way these guys just do this stuff with no prompting.

#1 Son is still struggling at his new school. They did warn us his grades would probably drop, but I don't think anyone expected it to be this bad. He's failing two subjects, spelling and science, which is troubling to the editor and scientist who live with him. He is getting a B in math, which was cause for optimism until we discovered that he's in the 4th-grade class. (He's 11 and in 5th grade for those without a scorecard.) Well, at least he's no longer feigning blindness every other day. It's been an interesting adjustment.

Every day is an adventure. Fortunately, I'm a writer always looking for new material. It's everywhere.

Waiting and Wondering

If anyone's reading this tonight, I need your prayers. The Man is out there somewhere in this cold, icy storm, and I don't know when or how he'll get home. He crashed our only car 100 miles from here this evening and eventually managed to let me know about it when some good samaritan came by and lent him their cell phone for a minute. I haven't started worrying (too much) about what will happen in the morning when #1 Son has to get to school or how much the repairs are going to cost or any of the practical stuff. Right now, I only want my sweet husband back home safely.

Places to Do

My cousin sent us a link to this game a while ago, and recently my kids have really gotten into finding the states. On the intermediate setting, most educated adults score in the mid-90s; the Pirate Boy gets about 65-75% correct, and the Punkin can make about 50%. Not bad, considering the littlest guy can't even read...

Pilgrims Progress

When I was a young teenager, I read the John Bunyan classic The Pilgrim's Progress out of some misguided belief that it would inspire me or enrich my life somehow. Even then, the most memorable thing about the whole experience was how unutterably, intensely, and excruciatingly boring it was. But my point (and I do have one) is that this past weekend was so non-boring as to possibly rate as the pinnacle of non-boringness. It was, in fact, an interesting time.

Road to Nowhere
Well, mostly interesting. Actually, it was quite boring driving 10 mph through the lower part of the Rocky Mountains. For more than an hour. For no reason that we could discern. There were some bloody great semi trucks along the side of the road getting tire chains put on, sure. But hey, they were well off the road and besides, the sign said that chains were mandatory. OK, not a great beginning, but sometimes these things happen. I figured our trip was going to be a little longer than usual, but we could probably make up the time later. Pah.

The snow got heavier, and the roads got slushy. No sweat; that happens every time we travel that route in the winter. It never takes us too long to get through. Sigh.

Actually, I was very cheerful and positive, even as the visibility fell to maybe 20 feet ahead, so I was going probably faster than I should have been when suddenly the fog lifted and there, maybe 50 feet ahead of me, was a line of cars nearly a mile long. Stopped. Dead. And those were the words that occurred to me, sort of: "If I can't stop, we're dead." As I thought this, and as I pressed gently on the brake, I knew for a certainty that I wouldn't be able to stop. With my precious babies in the car, I began to feel terrified even as I considered my options. My car slid sideways as the brakes failed (they didn't lock; we have ABS-- they just felt like they were locking), and I realized what I needed to do.

I plunged over the embankment into a ditch full of snow and slid (eventually) to a halt in front of a large, vicious-looking bush. I took a deep breath and looked over at The Man. I smiled. "We're alive." Our little guys were still playing happily in the back seat (#1 Son was riding in the second car with his cousins; we waved to them a few minutes later when they passed). Then I had a heart attack. Well, maybe it wasn't, but it sure felt like what I expect one to feel like. At the same time, my sciatic nerve went all twangy on me. I clutched the armrests for a few minutes until things subsided, then gave The Man another (slightly shakier) smile. "Still alive."

We held hands for a while and watched the cars pass us. Eventually, a trucker called out an offer to call a tow truck for us, and we waved gratefully. There seemed to be a large tanker blocking part of the road up ahead, and when I noticed the flow of traffic seemed to have stopped, I guessed (correctly) that the material in it was hazardous. OK. So, stop and evaluate situation. No traffic coming: Does that mean no tow truck? Well, we had 3 hours to wonder, as we sat there in the snow-- comfortably warm, I must add, because I kept the engine running and the heater on.

Eventually, Pirate Boy looked up from his coloring. "Are we in Utah?" he asked. "No, honey." He looked puzzled. "Where are we, then?" "In a ditch." "A ditch?" But he didn't ask why. He sat and did his homework, then decorated it for a his teacher. We had snacks and sang songs. Eventually, I introduced him to the concept of roadside "bathrooms." It gave him quite a kick to make yellow snow, and I was glad, momentarily, that I had only boys. I don't know how a daughter would have taken this.

Spanish Lesson
Throughout all of this, I wasn't particularly frightened or worried. My husband has the strongest and largest reserve of faith I've ever encountered, and he was calm and assured that we'd make it through just fine. I've learned to trust that. Besides, we were on a pilgrimage. More about that later. For now, you can peruse The Man's version of the story for a lot funnier take on it. He goes into detail about what happened once we got to our destination. I hate to even mention it, because I don't want to give La Quinta (slogan: "Spanish for... whatever we want it to be") more press than they deserve.

But then I realized, there is such a thing as bad press for service-based companies. (Of course, in this case, I'm using the term "service" in the loosest possible definition.) So let the slaughter begin. First read this gem from my dear sister in spirit, Surrender Dorothy. Her dear husband was driving the second car in our caravan, and she was riding along bravely, trying so hard not to give in to the stress. And to cope with 3 children of pre-adolescent age, which I didn't try to do. She's my hero, and not just because she gave up her chance to pass out at 3 a.m. instead of 6.
She's my hero in part because she didn't rip off the head of the manager of the La Quinta (Spanish for "your problems are none of our concern") at which we had 3 rooms reserved, prepaid, and with our names on but somehow which weren't available when we got there, despite our having called ahead earlier that night to tell them "We'll be there in a little while; please keep our rooms." Oh yes, they had said. We will.

Well, technically they still had the rooms. They just didn't have them available and ready for us to sleep in. In fact, they were occupied by people who were shortly to join us in being very put out with the management of La Quinta (Spanish for "I'm sure there's no one in that room; OK, this one"). I don't know how many people they called at 3-something in the freaking morning (yes, the "freaking" is necessary there)-- one room they actually broke into at something closer to 4 a.m. because they wouldn't believe that anyone was really inside, despite the security bar being across the door. Hello? Anybody seen a brain around here?

However, I missed the break-in and the reason for strangling the manager because SD and her family had graciously given us the one room that the La Quinta (Spanish for "total incompetence") desk clerk could scare up. It was, as TM notes, the worst one in the place and probably the one they save for only the absolutely desperate, because they are the only ones who will tolerate it. Them and the ones who've been driving through a blizzard for 19 hours and just want a bed to crash on, even a straw pallet in a barn, anything. Somewhere soft to land. So we got our little ones to bed around 3 and managed to grab about 20 winks, despite the presence in the hallway of (I kid you not) most of a high-school marching band enjoying a trip away from home.

After 4 hours' sleep, I was awakened by the squeals of my little sons bouncing delightedly on the hotel bed. Ah joy. TM and #1 Son were still sound asleep, so I began to get ready for the day. The contents of my stomach having clogged up the toilet, I went to the phone to call for maintenance. Except the phone didn't work. Sigh. OK, I'll talk to them when we're down for breakfast. I'll pass over the flimsy bowls that wouldn't hold cereal and milk. The waffle irons that lacked any batter to pour on them. The other stuff.

TM in his post was outraged beyond speech that the morning desk person at La Quinta (Spanish for "do it yourself; what am I, your maid?") had simply handed me a plunger when I informed her that our toilet was stopped up. That part didn't bother me; I can deal with muck. It was the fact that the plunger she handed me was in no way capable of unclogging the toilet in our room (and possibly in any other room in the place) that really got my goat. Baah! The toilet drain was square; the plunger, of course, round. And flimsy. REALLY flimsy. It had no more chance of forming a vacuum seal on that drain than my left sock.

I admit it was unkind of me, but at this point, I woke up The Man. "Good morning, honey; hope you don't need the bathroom." The phone still being out of commission, I ventured back downstairs and informed the already-sobbing desk clerk (who was probably bearing the brunt of several guests' anger for the night shift's unbearable incompetence) that I needed something more. No problem, she said, and a while later, she and another person came up with a drain snake and eventually got things sorted out. Oh, by the way, I said, our phone doesn't work. In fact, it was in pieces. She put the pieces back together and managed to get Line 2 operative again before cheerily making her way back to her front-desk purgatory.

The next time we used the toilet, it clogged up again. I swear, we did not eat the mountains on our way through.

Oh, Give Me a Home...
Eventually, we found out what had happened to our traveling companions. After another 2 hours of waiting in the lobby of La Quinta (Spanish for "Who cares?") for the management to do the right thing, they were sent to a Quality Inn a few miles up the road. To the King suite. With grapes on the canopy and piles of fluffy cushions and a fancy jetted tub. Of course, they only got to enjoy sweet blissful oblivion for 3 hours before the incompetents at La Quinta (Spanish for "inconsiderate in the extreme") called them up and told them that their stay would be gratis. They called us, too, but at this point, I was starting to feel like they'd need to pay us to stay there another day, so wretched was our accommodation.

However, we had other things to do. Our day was packed with fun and family and such special experiences that I can barely put into words how happy I was. To see my sweet little sister and her husband finally make their baby girl part of their family forever was almost overwhelming in its sweetness. And the faces of all the family gathered around, smiling-- how wonderful. You could feel the love in that room very tangibly, and I was so grateful to be there.

Afterward, I picked up the croup medicine for #1 Son-- it was the first free hour I'd had since Thursday afternoon when I took him to the doc. The croup itself was a blessing because it made his Mommy (Spanish for "wicked witch of the South") not want to have him with her for Spring Break, so he got to come on our trip, visit with the relatives, and see his dad baptized. That was the other incredibly wonderful event that happened on this trip. I think I'll keep my feelings about it private because it was so special, but I will say that it was the best thing that had happened to me in a very long time.

The baptism was also a social event, filled with I don't know how many dozen family members and even several friends from the other side of the mountains. (One on vacation, and a family who had moved a while ago.) And in true fan-boy form, TM also invited Howard Tayler, the creator of Schlock Mercenary (one of our favorite Web comics). Howard graciously attended and witnessed the event, then presented TM with an autographed portrait of him done in Schlock style. He's a classy, intelligent guy, and we'd both like to have the opportunity to spend more time around him.

If there's anyone still reading this (hi, Jack!), thanks for listening. I just had to get it off my chest. When we were sitting in Grand Junction eating burgers and thanking God for the lack of mountains and snow, SD's Beloved Husband said, "I can't wait to see the blog entries about this trip!" Rebelliously, I thought, "Oh, I won't be blogging about this. Not even the 3 hours in a ditch." But we didn't know the horrors of La Quinta (Spanish for "It's not Hell-- but you can see it from here") yet. So here it is, in all its glory.

For SD's take on the car trip, click here. She does a great job. I like the split-level effect particularly.

Rhyme Time

You know that scene in The Princess Bride where Inigo and Fezzik are playing their rhyming game and you discover that Fezzik isn't all muscle but has something upstairs after all? (If not, go back and watch the movie again. You know you want to anyway.) Well, my boys like playing that game. Especially Punkin Boy (still 2 years old). Pirate Boy has been studying poetry in kindergarten (I love the Core Knowledge program!), then comes home and plays school with his brother.

So you get little exchanges like this throughout the day:

Pirate Boy: Water tower!
Punkin: Eisenhower!

They play variations on the game, too. The other day Punkin was getting all Gertrude Stein on us, saying things like "a rose is a rose" and "a nose is a nose." #1 Son decided to get in on the action, throwing out similar phrases to see what rhymes his brother would respond with. It went on for a few rounds, then #1 Son decided to get tricky.

#1 Son: A horse is a horse--
Punkin: Of course, of course!

Smirk. Not much gets past that kid.

What a Trip

Back from a whirlwind trip to Kansas City (hi, Filegirl!), where I met some really lovely people who are thinking of maybe just possibly hiring me and where I saw some really unbelievable houses and some others that might even be in my price range if I ever get a job again that pays anything...

OK, stop and breathe. I picked up a cold or something on my trip and did a couple quick rounds with Montezuma's Revenge. Yuck. Oh, and got maybe 4 hours of sleep before my interviews, 'cause my plane had mechanical problems and I didn't get to my hotel until 2 a.m. local time. Ech.

However, I also picked up some great characters and situations for future writing, which is how I live my life now and have a blast no matter what. For instance:

• The woman obviously returning from a ski trip, wearing crop pants and 4-inch heels. Oh, please, honey. Don't you know that this airport is larger than most cities?
• The orange-haired woman wearing rust and brown clothes and a red tie-dyed cowboy hat. I thought this was the weirdest thing I'd see that night until I noticed another woman in a pink felt cowboy hat. Good gravy, people.
• The man(probably on a business trip) who waited in line for the security check semi-patiently for 10 or 15 minutes, then burst out with, "I showed up 15 minutes early and now I'm going to miss my $&%$*# flight!" Ooh. Y'know, even before 9/11, I wouldn't have cut it that close. Not even in a reasonable-sized airport, which this one is, as I've mentioned, NOT.
• The cute young Japanese couple who hugged goodbye outside the security line; he watched longingly for several minutes before leaving the terminal. A few seconds later, I saw her on the phone. I bet it was him.

People are fascinating. Here's another interesting thing. When I got to security, I didn't take off my shoes because I can't really walk without them and I can't bend over to do anything with them without hurting myself. After all, the sign only says "We recommend that you remove your shoes." Well, the security guy told me to do it anyway. When I explained why I hadn't (hoping that they could just do the wand-waving thing around my feet), he said, "I'll have to send you for a secondary check because you fit our profile."

Um, excuse me? <-- See that picture? Does that look like a terrorist to you? Well, unless you're doing reverse profiling, maybe. "Fat white female, rapidly approaching middle age, obviously married, professional, and terribly sedentary." What the heck? Last thing I want to do is blow myself up, along with a bunch of weekend skiers and college students.

Did I mention people are weird? Oh yeah, fascinating. That was it. Hee.

Hyper Haiku

Just for fun. I call this one New Mall.

Stupid, overpriced,
Inconvenient heap of-- wait.
Is that P.F. Chang's?