Age is Just a Number

My One and Only Political Statement

For this election anyways.

Chris Evert - Rosenapped!

Spouse-man has a nice little rose garden where he has done well with the five rose bushes he has so far;  healthy, beautiful and he picks them for me!  For Father's Day, we went out to the nursery to add to his rose collection.   We shopped and shopped, carefully sniffing and gazing at the colors.  He settled on two, one of which happened to be the last one:  a Chris Evert.   

We brought our cart to the door area where the helpful garden lady clipped the tags and took them inside where I proceeded to check out.  Spouse-man was outside people watching, say 7-8' feet from our cart when Bleach Blonde Lady and Neanderthal Man strolled along.   So as not to surprise you with the next part - or maybe you guessed it already - they set their gaze upon our cart; specifically Chris Evert with her one and only blossom standing tall amongst our selections.   Next, and this part may actually shock you, they picked up Chris and toted her off to their cart.  Spouse-man followed them and did the "Ahem, that's our rose". 

And if partifular members of the human race have not utterly blown your doors off up to this point, Bleach Blonde Lady peeped:

"Oh, was that yours?"

And if that wasn't startling enough, neanderthal man grunted:

"Well, there weren't any others back there!" (read:  so I am entitled to swipe yours!)

Tell me, when was the last time you were in the grocery store and there were no boxes of poptarts left on the shelves, and the first cart you came across you took one out of someone elses?  What is this, Road Warrior?

Chris in all her glory:

Art Exhibit in Town

For those of you who appreciate Art (and who happen to live in the Denver area), there is a free Art Exhibit in town called "From Durer to Rembrandt ...  the rennaisance of faith in art". 

Check out the website here, and get your tickets (yes, free, yes, tickets required).

Let me know if you go, and what you thought of it after you went!

Now I am Mad

J.K. Rowling dragged Dumbledore out of the closet.

I have been happily reading the Potter series since they came out - no maniacal waiting-in-line for 3 days for the books, rather acquiring them at some point and keeping up with the story line.  I even read the last 2 over again just to get a better grasp of the story.  Not for one iota of a nanosecond did I consider Dumbledore's "relational preferences".  Not a one.  I read along merrily dining on the clever names and inventive scenarios and tales.

And today Rowling outs Dumbledore.  I want to return all my books.  I have no joy in reflecting over the books now, visualizing the story behind the story of say, when Dumbledore had all his private teaching sessions with Harry.  Am I to wonder now if Harry was of special interest to Dumbledore in some other way than how I have read the books up to this point?  No! I don't want to go there; now I want to erase it all.  Why on earth does this little tidbit need to be injected into what was a very creative set of books? I wondered, often, how Rowling came up with the silly, imaginative names and admired her creativity.  No more, not for me; it is a mere boast of homosexuality, as one person says: "Jo Rowling calling any Harry Potter character gay would make wonderful strides in tolerance toward homosexuality."

Not in this camp; Familiarity doth not breed acceptance.

You lost me on this one, Rowling.  I am sorry I invested the time in your stories, I am sorry I spent the money on your books, and I am sorry that I thought you original and clever.

Shut It Up!

My sister lives in Arizona.  We chatted today.   I highly suspect she is somewhat loyal to the Diamondbacks.

Me:    I just want to start out by saying that I apologize in advance for the humiliation the Diamondbacks will suffer ... she interrupts here while I am still talking .... at the Rockies hands on your home turf.

Her:    Your nephews told me to tell you to just Shut It Up.

I guess they were ready for my phone call.

How to do a Road Trip

Any Questions?

A Wing and A Prayer

Or in this case, a Miata and a Prayer. We’ll be driving this:



to Florida shortly. Yep, 3 or more days in this little thing. I was coining the phrase "Death Rocket" to coworkers until one made several appeals that I refer to it as something else…maybe I should. Okay, it’s "The Mazda".

I admit, I have some trepidation. This is a little car. An 18 wheeler could run over the top of us and he wouldn’t know the difference. We may not either. We could run into – no pun intended – the same fate as my nephew, the owner, when he ran into a horse that was hit on the road late at night in the complete dark on an Indian reservation. Okay, so we’re not driving across any reservations that I am aware of, but we’ll be going through places like southern Kentucky and Tennessee and Georgia where, according to Hollywood, the word cousins take on a whole different meaning.

I love road trips, but I haven’t experienced one strapped into a cocoon with only enough room for my water bottle and couple carrot sticks. The trunk won’t even close on an upright inflated bag of chips. Believe me, I’ve already tried. In this car, the Laptop will mean literally that, on my lap for the entire time it is not in the trunk. I even thought it might be handy to lose some number of pounds, but rationalized myself out of it when I figured we’d need the weight to give gravity a hand on the highway.

So, I ask all of my devoted and consistent readers to lend a few prayers for safety and no hitches for this trip. We’ll be thankful and send a postcard.

Yes, I Video'd, 'cept....

Well, the follow-up to the previous post looks like this – partly in hindsight, partly in puzzle fill-ins….

Yes, I video’d, on my own, except with my little digital camera video-ing capabilities, which really is NO match for the camcorder that cost twice my camera. The real camcording happened because the older sister was strong-armed (my words, however accurate they may be) by The Mother to get recordings because The Mother went out of town camping. Both daughters were upset by this and apparently since The Mother "made reservations" they had to go camping. Along with this, it became clear that our cheerleader, in effect, had to come to our house because, with sissy off to college now, she kinda needed to. Yes, sissy off to college, but called home once again to record cheerleading activities. And, with sissy off to college, I am recognizing now how much she filled in where The Mother left off: a plant was brought over to our house to caretake, a hermit crab was carried in …. No, you did not detect any gripey-ness in the previous recap.

To Video or Not to Video

It’s a dilemma. Tonite is the first high school football game and my stepdaughter’s first cheerleading experience in the real sports world. We’ve been blessed by having her presence in our house this week for the first time in 3 months ‘cept for 2 days 2 weeks ago. So we get to take her and experience a little reminiscing ourselves of sitting on hard bleachers, hearing the whistle, the cheers and, last but not least, the marching band. I’ll tell ya right off the bat, I don’t cheer. I don’t do the 2-4-6-8 Appreciate thing. You might, might, catch me on a good day at the baseball game raising my arms in a faint attempt to do the wave. I don’t have a secret desire to be a tv star or do motivational speeches for lots of money either. If you know anything about me, Limelight does not come to mind. Oops, I started to ramble-rant.

So here we are, the neglected stepfamily suddenly reinstated after a summer hiatus. The family cheerleader is very excited about this whole deal, especially since she is a freshman and she made the varsity squad (do they still use that word?).

She asks me last night: "Do you know how to videotape?" "Uh, not sure." was my most articulate response. She says, "Can you videotape me cheering since mom can’t see me and she wants to be able to see me cheer?"

Now wait just a minute, I didn’t envision going to my first high school football game in 20…25…um, ok, nearly 30 years to sit behind a digital camcorder recording cheerleaders so that The Mother, who is not present for some important work related unavailability, can see her daughter cheer for the first time in high school. We’re leaving work early to get her there early, why can’t The Mother take time off 10 minutes away to make a showing? Why can’t the stepdad camcord for his wife?

I suppose the Christ-like thing to do is to lovingly smile, pick up the camcorder and happily fulfill the request for this youngster who probably needs to see more Christ-like examples in her life, and who probably has no other concern on the planet than whether her makeup will be right, hair in place and if she has the right set of cheer clothes on per her coach’s request. I am, however, not feeling very Christ-like. My selfish, beat-up feeling, taken-advantage-of, and gossiped-about self wants to give a big giant NO and explain all the reasons why, point out every negligent aspect of her mother and throw in the stepdad too while I’m at it, maybe toss in a few other people and leave the camcorder on The Mother’s front doorstep and ring the doorbell 92 times while she’s sleeping.

Thanks for letting me get that out of my system.

Self Note: Read Eph 5:1 from The Message for an attitude adjustment.

My Back Hurts

I can tile.  I can do lots of other things too.  However, I am learning that, just because I can tile, I think I can be finished with that little foray into home improvements.  Just give me a hammer and nails, a drill and a sliding, compound, miter saw and some wood and I'll be happy - mainly because those kinds of tasks are mostly done standing up.  This is what's been keeping us busy the last month or so - good thing we have AC:

   The Bathroom

   The Foyer

Next home maintenance/improvement project:  fix front sprinkler system leak and install the whole back sprinkler system - hoses, pipes, fittings, heads, nuts, bolts and nails.   Oh, there aren't nuts, bolts and nails, but all the other stuff.