Oh my blog I do love you, but I have been busy keeping

Dear Blog

I believe you are feeling neglected, as though I do not care, but I do. My devotion, or lack there of is not deliberate. I think about you everyday-- somehow things just seem to be taking priority.

Like...Last Tuesday I organized the Diaperpalooza Baby Shower for two of the band directors who are going to be first time dads. They were totally surprised to not only see there wives in the band room but, there wives each surrounded by 2700 diapers and 3100 wet wipes (or least that is what one of the directors and his wife counted was the haul).

Wednesday I nursed my sick child, battled rush hour traffic to get to the doctor before I was due in the office. Then, I spent the evening in the church office printing off the monthly newsletter; biting my tongue so to refrain from wanting to say ugly things to the Rizo machine and the paper folder as it jammed. The picture of an almost laughing Jesus in the work room made me feel he was enjoying the comedy in it all.


Thursday was a great day and a bad day. Great day because D turned thirteen. We are a house of all teenage girls, YIKES! D's friends kidnapped her in the morning and dressed her up like this...
D looking like that lead to the bad in my day. D's friends, in all there excitement left the front door open and Uli escaped. I ran through the neighborhood for a mile (that is no exaggeration) in circles for 30 minutes in my PJ's and flip flops screaming profane things at the black devil till I caught her. I know for a fact she is alive only by the grace of God--it would have been a toss up on who could have taken her life, the car or me. The police car parked at the top of street was probably called to control the crazy lady--me. I guess it was Uli's way of saying hey how 'bout me, celebrate me living as a part of the family for a year now. I think I wanted to forget my moment of weakness when I agreed to getting the black devil for D's 12th birthday.


Friday was Senior Night. Only for the love of a child-- who has been in the marching band for four years-- would parents stand in the pouring rain to hear there child's name and future education plans announced to a dwindling stadium of fans...thanks family next to us for the loan of an umbrella--well King Ralph can't thank'em the umbrella was built for two, not three.

Saturday was another busy day. D and I logged some service hours at the church Pig Roast. We both could have done without seeing an elderly gentleman enjoying (way to much) gnawing with delight on the roasted pig snout. Then it was home to do a color guard hairdo for M and out the door to prepare lunch, or was it dinner...we'll call it linner for the marching band before the final competition of the marching season. Then back home to gather a spouse and a child and off to the dome we went...to see this, the marching band perform there field show "The Flight" a tribute to the 80th anniversary of Charles Lindbergh flight across the Atlantic.

(Princess A is on the 5 of the 50 yard line and M is running with the giant windsock on the 30 yard line)

The bitter sweetness is if Princess A doesn't decide to do college marching band that was her final performance on the field. As great as the band was this night, as sick as M was she pulled off her best performance--they couldn't reclaim that first place spot, they left with the second place trophy. Regardless we were proud!

Sunday...well, they're made for doing laundry. A lot of laundry.

I Heard Someone in the Mail Room Today Say, It's Time to Start a Fire

I heard someone in the mail room today say "it's time to start a fire this evening". I believe a typical sentiment for when school pictures are handed out. Although most of the children looked adorable there is something about an adult's school picture that leaves much to be desired.

It has been so long since I had a school picture. Today I burst into the house after work, in the same fashion as my girls and announced to all..."I got my school pictures today". To which one unnamed child said "oh gee mom, please, let me see". I even offered a wallet exchange--no takers, as of yet.

The last time I had a school picture I looked like this...

Let me be the first to say thank God that was in black and white sparing all from the sight of my frosty eye shadow, but still visible is the quintessential 80's strand of pearls required for all Senior photos.

Then there is this...

Mrs. Avery, Building Assistant

You may print it off and throw darts if you wish. Maybe draw horns on my head. Maybe a handle bar mustache. Do whatever your inner artist commands.

My Dirty Little Secret

The only way I could post my secret on Frank Warren's blog would be with a photo, which I never could. Never Will. We all have to preserve our reputations in some way...mine is never to open the door to divulge my crisis zone, the causality otherwise known as--the laundry room.

This week the front yards of my neighbors and myself resembles a panicked search for Jimmy Hoffa's body. We have multiple man holes dug up in our yards; the gas company is replacing gas lines. After each dig there is a conference between three employees...then it seems they all disappear, only a piece of plywood remains to trap whatever, or whoever may be lurking in that big hole(s). Although yesterday the positioning of one-man hole gave question to if one of them was trying to take off with my new mailbox.

So imagine this, my man eating pile of laundry on the ground, the racks of clean clothes hanging from rods (that require special talent to weave through and past) to access the back area (which is a mess of old toys and sewing notions) comes a ring at the door from a gas company employee--who wants to access my laundry room to light pilots on my water heater and furnace. YIKES! I was about to plummet into the depths of being mortally humiliated, I was! Princess A and M screeched, "he's going into the laundry room", to which I whispered back dial 911 if we don't return. But, before we reached the vault of sure death I had to race forward to slide the newly heaped pile of smelly laundry from the base of the steps. Then I warned him. He promised me as a gasman he has seen much much worse. I promised him he has not. The entire time I was thinking why did King Ralph have to go fishing this week; if he was home he could have lit all the pilots. I told the gas man I knew what his dinner table conversation was going to be...I could hear it in my head...Oh my gosh you should have seen this ladies laundry room, he assured he would not, I told him he was a liar. We both laughed. Once the pilots were lit and we nearly escaped the man eating pile of dirty laundry I made Mr. Gas Man raise his right hand place it on the bottle of liquid All and promise never to divulge my dirty little secret or, raising the box in my right hand I said or I'll have to Bounce you.

When I escorted him out the front door his co-workers hollered out "don't believe a thing he says" to which I screamed back "don't believe a thing he says."

I think I am in need of a laundry intervention. HELPPPPPP! My name is Keeper and I am a.......

Must Watch Wednesday

This is totally one of my favorite TV shows. It is so whimsical...has a bit of a Big Fish and Series of Unfortunate Events feeling.

The best part about Pushing Daisies is that it brings us all together to enjoy TV as a family. A rarity theses days.

Zippadeedooda

Let me just say I love working. I love it because when contemplation is the mode it clears my mind and lets my thoughts melt away. I feel refreshed and renewed as if I never had a concern. Hmmmmm...I guess work is like yoga.

King Ralph brought home three giant Merb's candy apples--coated in thick caramel, rolled in rich toasted pecans. Breakfast of champions I say. Candied apples are a sign that Fall is indeed the season even though my sister in law's spousal equivalent invited us to swim in the pool this weekend. Don't you agree that the mere fact that a STL pool is still "open for business", that the temperature warrants, has a certain oddity? Proof that global warming exists.

Tomorrow, being off work and the girls off school, we will resume the remodeling of the Jack-n-Jill bath-- as a family. My brother laughed at me yesterday when I said "the girls bathroom gut is hard...being down a whole bath". He laughed reminding me we still have two fully functioning bathrooms. Who in there right mind wants to go down a flight of steps to potty? Not a single person who lives here in this house. As if getting the toilet paper replaced wasn't fight enough, now it's dog eat dog for a spot on the pot.

I feel great today. There's something about eight hours of sleep, a caramel apple and a diet coke for breakfast that makes life seem absolutely-totally-unequivocally perfect!

To that I say good day!

Weekend Review In Pictures

Although I could have stopped by the alumni tent, slapped on one of the fancy stickers that announced the year that tagged me to the homecoming while securing a ticket for a free hot dog--I took the pass, instead indulging in the excitement that homecoming offered my two girls.


PRINCESS A AND HER FRIEND LIZ WELCOMED "HOME" THERE OLE' BAND BUDS


FRIEND NIKKI HUGS M--A GIRL DRESSED IN ALUMINIUM FOIL NEEDS A HUG--AFTER A GREAT HALF TIME PERFORMANCE


SISTERS LOOKING GOOD FOR THE LHS 2007 HOMECOMING "DISCO INFERNO" DANCE


WEARING THIS SEASONS HOT FASHION TREND...BOLD RED LIPS


M SMILES AT THE THOUGHT THAT SOON A NICE BIG JUICY STEAK AND A TWICE BAKED POTATO WILL BE PLACED IN FRONT OF HER


THE FRESHMAN GIRLS ONLY POSSE HAVING DINNER AT "HILLTOP MANOR"

Never End An Email With These Words...

Never end an email to the social committee chair who just opened her own restaurant with these words, "Let me know if there is anything else I can do to help, i am more than happy". You may be sorry.

You see last Saturday when I stepped up to the plate to take over serving the marching band lunch before competition...all the food was ordered by the chairperson, delivered...all I had to do was get it out on the table and serve the hungry mob. This time...this time I am off to the store to shop not only to serve dinner (the Friday night Homecoming banquet) to 220 high school band kids and there 145 8th grade band guests but basically do the whole thing. (Excuse me while I scccccreammmmmmm.) Don't bother with the math I'll do it for for you...THREE HUNDRED SIXTY FIVE STARVING TEENS!!!!!!!!! Plus the table decorations, which was the job I originally signed up to do. I hope all those episodes of Whose Wedding is it Anyway I have watched will turn out to be a helpful tool in pulling off this monster task that was tossed my way, MONDAY. This feels like a rushed wedding with a pregnant bride.

The little wrench in this plan is I now work so I can't really be there at the time I need to be in order for this whole dinner to play out like a well rehearsed symphony. I have lassoed in the only friend I have dumb enough to refuse me. She lovingly laughs when I list off "our" to do list.

I have just begun my IV of caffeinated Diet Coke before heading out to Sam's to purchase gallons of ranch dressing and bags of tossed salad by the ton.

By the time the evening is complete I will need a stiff drink. But, no time for that, not the whole weekend is there time for such pleasure. There will be nails to paint, hair to curl, more food to cook, dresses that need a nip and tuck, photos to capture, taxi freshmans to a dance........

Instead maybe my steam rolled body will need to be peeled up from the road.

Homecoming 2007.

Kitchen Nightmare

An episode of Kitchen Nightmare is taking place as type. D is baking some quick bread in the name of 10 extra credit points in her honors social studies class.

The recipe for nightmare goes as follows...
Drop egg on floor, check.
Dribble mashed pumpkin on floor, check.
Tip measuring cup filled with flour on counter, check.
Eliminate use of the Rachel Ray garbage bowl, check.
Add tablespoons of salt and baking soda instead of teaspoons, check.

I am getting more scared as watch this assignment unfold. This pumpkin bread may (no it certainly will) require a large glass of water for and during consumption.

I have done my best to "save" the quick bread--no matter how much cinnamon I pour in the batter the salt pops through. Let me rephrase that...pours through! I have been made aware it is not how it tastes but how it looks. Here's to looking good.

Tomorrow while eating D's pumpkin bread it's a toss up for her classmates--between playing Amazing Grace or Taps.

Big Smile...Say Cheese

While I mocked my children last night with the usual ritual of words--I don't know what to wear, I don't like your choices, what to do with my hair; all in honor, on the eve of school picture day. Not the kids. Mine.

That's right my friends, I got my school picture taken this afternoon. It was apparent by the look of the staff and student body that it was picture day. Everyone seemed a little more spit shined, hair coiffed, even saw a few lads with there collars "popped". My skirt was cuter than my black t-shirt, but when I suggested a full length photo the pho-tog-rapher snared at me. Even when I twinkled my toes painted in "The Deepest of Violets" polish--there bit of a goth-edge appearance might have scared her, not sure.

For Christmas this year you all are getting an 8x10 glossy of me--framed.

Tell your children I'll have plenty wallets for a swap.

My Kleenex Mom Moment

I have been known to write teachers notes thanking for touching my child's life and guiding them to grow in knowledge. I often find myself doing this in middle and high school since--unlike elementary school were most shower that level of teachers with holiday and end of the year mementos to show appreciation; the higher level teachers seem forgotten.

Never in my life have I ever dreamed I would open my email and find a note from a teacher thanking me for my child's efforts. It was a total Kleenex moment for this mom. As King Ralph is having a busier and more difficult night shift as Sgt. Sausage Fingers--when I read him the email it made his night... let's say a little brighter.

So if you don't mind, I think my four hours of labor pains bringing M into this world earned me this bragging right......

Hey Folks,

I wish you could have seen your daughter today! She has volunteered her time to help teach the 8th grade potential colorguard girls at Sperreng. Today, she commanded the majority of the group and had them looking pretty great by the end of our time together. As her teacher watching her teach, it was an AMAZING moment.

She has something that many people don't possess at her age; the ability to instill desire. Every 8th grade girl was looking up to her in astonishment. Not at how she spun the flag, but how effective she was as a teacher, and how easy she made everything seem. I know this skill comes from her hard work to be successful at high school, AND everything you guys do at home to insure that she "grows up right."

I just had to share this moment with you, because it was a proud moment. I really enjoy knowing all of the Avery girls, and I appreciate you as parents making the world a better place through your children!!!

Sincerely,
J. Hutson

Hat Day

In case you bump into me on a Saturday...every Saturday, now that I am a working girl and have to look presentable Monday through Friday, is hat day...or maybe ponytail day. No hat day.

Tomorrow I will be sporting the usual LHS Spirit of STL Marching Band hat. It's competition day.

Money and Mane

I had a moment today...

I was paying some bills on line, I quickly scanned my eyes up and down the ledger--what is that from the school district, you can't charge with the district,naaaa....hmmmmm.....what did I write a check for that amount...then it dawned on me, son-of-a-gun, it's my first paycheck--automatic deposit. It just took me off guard. Can you see me smile? I just made a financial contribution to our little castle for the first time since...well since a pig last flew.

Then there was this....

The blow dryer has been on the fritz for a while. I loathe buying things like blow dryers and curling irons (which both went kaput this week)...I'd rather have a new shirt or a home decorating accessory--a blow dryer just lacks that rush of great purchase. But, but today when I switched on the new blow dryer it may have sparked a little joy in me. For the last month I have been starting the dryer like someone would start there 1976 Pinto that is rusting in the garage, slowly warning it up. I was waiting for the dryer to catch fire and torch my hair till I was nearly bald before I purchased the replacement. King Ralph on the other hand prefers to keep the house (and my hair) in tact--so he purchased the replacement (now that's love). Maybe he still had visions of the time my previous hair dryer crapped out, I was on the way to a wedding and asked him to help me blow dry my hair with the leaf blower. I would start out with the old dryer on the cool setting with it's slow hum and ever slight breeze (really I could blow 40 candles on a cake with more wind than that the dryer gave out) and work it till it was blowing good, then pump it up to warm, turning it off at times when the scent of burnt rubber started to fill the air. Today...oh baby, today I turned that new dryer on and it went like a 2007 Corvette on the open road. My hair was blowing in the wind like a super model at a photo shot.

How 'bout this...

I am pleased to also announce I have managed to stay in the staff Survivor pool. They must like me right, they asked me to play there game and only 16 can play? Then again maybe they just like my money? Well either way I am one week closer to the pot of green.


So I have money in the bank and good hair. Good day I say!

Corny Mom Says Corny Prayer

I know I said the corniest of prayers ever. I was so nervous for M to preform her color guard routine at competition I actually prayed for two days to God that she not drop a single guard implement on the field during competition this afternoon--and she didn't. Prayer heard. Amen!

Get this, the color guard won best auxiliary in there division and best color guard out of all three divisions. M needed this esteem booster.

Princess A isn't quite as happy since the marching band as a whole won second place in the division. Hard to swallow after being grand champs last year. Oh well tis' good to share.

Back to color guard... M's performance costume is less than attractive, she refers to it as her space suit...you can be the judge for yourself. M's opinion of it--uhg!, no more like UHG-LEE!



*I was going to post a better shot I took but, the girl in front of M has a wicked camel's toe...total yo-yo...it ain't a pretty sight.

Friday's Sweetest Things

Listening to my dear friend's 2 year son say "I wuv woo mommy"...because she never got to hear that phrase from her first child. Sweetness.

The little girl in my Kindergarten lunch group that cried on Thursday because her daddy forgot to pack her a cookie; giggled today that she forgot to mention to her daddy last night that he forgot her cookie. So adorably sweet.

Driving down the highway with all my girlies singing Dione Warwick's Say a Little Prayer for Me. Relished Mother-Daughter sweetness.

Shopping with my two high school girlie's for homecoming ensembles. Sweet is the price of the dresses purchased at Forever 21 and sweeter is the shoes to match on sale at Macy's. Double the sweet.

Pulling in the garage after a night at the mall, closing the garage door, sitting in the car listening to the radio to finish singing Spice Girl's Wannabe with Princess A and M-- all of us crazily knowing every word. Crazy sweetness.

King Ralph agreeing to pick up bobby pins for M...you have no idea the direction and description it takes to get the King to understand what is a bobby pin (or in the case of the paniced phone call, hair pins) . Sweet daddy.

Biggest sweet of all...filling out a time sheet for the first time in nearly 18 years.

It really is always the small things in life that make the days--sweet!

Note to Myself

I need to remind myself-- as a Building Assistant I must...

1. Remember to wear my watch (shoot I mean find my watch).

2. Bring my own combination lock for my locker (I know it is such a hoot, I have a locker. I felt like a middle school girl starting 6th grade and having my first ever locker...every lock they gave me didn't work. I had to call the janitor to use his emergency key to free my purse from captivity).

3. Memorize the names of 868 elementary school children.

4. Next time a whole grade level applause me for being the new Building Assistant--curtsy instead of bow (my kids, who weren't anywhere near the school said I embarrassed them when I told them I bowed).

5. Don't spend a penny earned...Princess A applied to Loyola this week.

Green Light Means Go

I got the green light. I'll be starting work tomorrow (at the place in the photo). I hope they like me. It has been nearly 18 years since I have had to say, "I have to work tomorrow".

I'm excited and nervous.

Monday Morning Meditation

I think I need to meditate. Here's my list of contemplation.

The hardest part of mothering is hoping you say the right thing to your child. My quote for M this day is " You must be proud to be different. Your only shame is to have shame".

I think no matter how many e-notes the middle school principal sends out there will remain parents who will never understand the concept of the car pool lane and how to make to it flow a wee-bit faster. This is why I seldom drop off in the morning. (Praise be to the big yellow bus!)

Will this house ever truly possess enough feminine product? I think answer is never when one needs it.

Why did the dog have to chew--to the point of total destruction--MY shoe?

Is there such thing as getting enough sleep?

Why can't some company that produces sandwich bags package them in boxes of 10,000?

Why can the kids pack for a trip but never unpack?

Is it acceptable to go downtown for an FBI background check unshowered with a ball cap substituting for a hair-do? Because that is unquestionably the Monday plan.

Here is what I heard inside my head while I meditated... having determined it is easier to just have some powered sugar donettes and a diet coke than find answers to these questions.

Brit, can you really sing?

How can I sleep tonight without commenting on the VMA choice of Brittany Spears for the opening? I can't so I will comment.

Britney just got beat up in our living room.

One, she totally lip synced the whole song!
Two, her butt cheeks didn't fit her sparkly black ensemble...although there wasn't much to the ensemble, typical Brit T & A.
Three, she lacked any sign of emotion that evoked she was enjoying her little comeback--dead in the face.
Four, nice spray tan.
Five, her weave didn't match her roots.
Six, Gimme More...that's what the backup dancer said after he grabbed her breast.

Gimme More? No that was more than enough Gimme for this gal!

Then Sarah Silverman came out and totally, totally dissed I-have-gone-off-the-edge-Britney--ouch!

Weekend Review

I can offer no photo of Friday's standard high school marching band/football fun-- since, I had to run for my life from the metal football stands. Being a human lighting rod left little opportunity to snap photos of the band-sis-ta-s. I guess I could have snapped photos of King Ralph and I enjoying our rain out game fun at Clipper's with our friends--the cranberry and vodka was a relaxing touch to a busy week--but I didn't.

Saturday we began phase one of our final stint as parents of a confirmation student--D's turn. We played enough "get-to-know-you" games that if you don't know me (us) now you never will or don't care too. I can't not mention how King Ralph had to leave camp early to do his midnight duty as Sergeant Sausage Fingers; leaving camp with MY car keys in his pocket (which I never gave to him but D did) leaving me to send someone under the car in the pouring rain to retrieve my hide-a-key. (Thank you Steve!) I am also happy to report that in all the years I have slept at Camp Wartburg there were no, I will repeat, NO snoring women to disrupt the small amount of sleep I had. You have no idea how fabulous that was!

Can't have a weekend at Camp Wartburg without playing the hat game!

...another year of hat game causes M to lose her mind and go totally c-r-a-z-y!

Sunday Princess A had the opportunity to fulfill a dream she never knew she had--back up singer for a Christian rock band, of course she had company in the experience. Oh wait, come to think of it she wasn't just a back up singer, the high school kids actually wrote a verse and sang it. The only reason I have any idea what they sang is I was monitoring the writing session...I think it went something like this "when you're chilling in your Ford believe in the Lord, our God is an awesome God". (So what do you do if your vehicle is a Toyota or a Dodge? What rhythms?)


You rock girls...next time though, don't think the microphone can do all the work-- raise those voices!

...and since this weekend really was all about D here she is adding color to the rocking outdoor worship service with her yellow banner

Buffing my Briefcase

I chose Tommy Girl. I must have had the right scent.

It's a tie for my favorite interview question:

Do you like Mexican food? To which I nicely replied yes I like Mexican, very much (what I really wanted to reply with was, hell ya but mostly with a margarita)

Do you sing...do you like to sing? To which I replied yes I can to sing I sing all the time, it doesn't sound so good but I like to sing (what I really wanted to do was break out in my rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody completed with a little air guitar action).

Now I won't exactly be buffing my briefcase, I won't need one but, I got offered the job--I accepted.

Chipping off the Rust

Okay I don't want to say much--afraid I may jinx myself. So all I am going to say is, I hopefully chipped all the rust away. The only thing more I will say is when she called last night she said, "so they can sniff you out" and I replied, "well then I will wear perfume".

Question. Which perfume-- Tommy Girl or Shi?

Happy Birthday Doghter

Today just happens to be my doghter's birthday...Happy First Birthday Uli. Since I have a hidden talent-- I'm part Keeper of the House and part Dr. Doolittle, I had this conversation with Uli.

ME: Uli you know it's your birthday what would you like...a dog bone, maybe a new leash?

ULI: I was thinking something more practical like an full ovarian and uterine extraction and a micro chip implanted under my skin.

ME: Oh Uli I knew you were the doghter for me, you think practical in terms of gifts. The sisters would have asked for things like Jimmy Choo shoes or a Kate Spade bag. You don't think it will make me appear a little like a Dr. Kevorkian?

ULI: No, no not at all. But, you know I don't want my gift to be that easy. I would like you to take me to the Humane Society where the vet students come once a month to do a few pracitce hysterectomies for a discounted rate... which means you will have to engage in rush hour traffic, say at 630am. Remember I won't be able to eat in the morning so be sure to have the sisters leave an apple granola bar in the back seat to tempt me while freaking you out as you try to merge from one highway to the other. Of course when we get the Humane Society I will be sure they have a one eyed black cat perched at the front desk--I know how you love a good cat.

ME: Aaaaaaachoo! How about this...since it's your birthday I will ask them for a few pain killers so you can experience a physcodelic trip post surgery...say for at least a few days. I'll play some Doors tunes, maybe rent the movie Pink Floyd's The Wall to enhance your doggie drug tripping experience.

ULI: You're the best!

ME: So I've heard.

Firsts & Lasts

It was a Friday night of firsts and lasts...

First football game of the season. First half time show of the season. First time the sister's hit the field in performance together. It was the last first game for Princess A and, the first first game for M. Then it started to get silly with the seniors--how's that last first after half time soda tasting...how was your last first performance of your LHS marching career and so on....


Then there was this...my first photo of the band sisters for the season but, surely not my last.

Reclaiming

Yesterday evening when I rang the dinner bell alerting all that a feast of spaghetti with meat sauce and tossed salad was ready for consumption--instruction were to grab a plate, claim a 12x12 square of ceramic tile anywhere in the center perimeter of the kitchen, be still and eat; while standing.


It appears by the looks of things that every flat surface had, has been monopolized by homework...poster board swallows half the kitchen table with all its accent pieces and snippets of magazine pages. The island's upper level is exhausted with freshman class binders and folders in coordinating colors; to identify French II from Honors English and so on... The lower portion of the island stacks with more attempts to bring on the need to create carpal tunnel syndrome for me with a signature here and there. Then somehow we manage to toss in a desktop and a laptop into this mix of education muddle. Then because space is at such premium in the central station of the house; Princess A had her constant course of AP Psychology (I swear she will be able to offer therapy session by years end) diverted to the lower rung of the house....


I wonder why I bother to ask myself why King Ralph may have a case of the shingles. Just looking around at this mayhem would make anyones skin ache! Certain too it will take a bit more than gummed reinforcer to secure things back in order.


To simply put it...I NEED TO RECLAIM THE CENTRAL STATION OF THE CASTLE!

Quite the Dog Day

I think... maybe...today, I'd like to be Leona Hemsley's dog.

What the *&^% is a dog to do with a trust fund of 12-million dollars?

I don't even know if one can answer that question.

Snow Day In August

This is what the opening page of the school district web site read this early morning--to be sure my tired eyes aren't seeing wrong they posted it in red...

"Due to air conditioning failure, all classes and events at ******* Middle School are canceled for Wednesday, August 29, 2007."

I suggest a few blocks of ice and a couple of fans...that should keep the building cool and the kids on the path to education...and my renewed; relished peaceful days in tact.

Humdrum Tuesday

Laundry day. I have been churning it out at a constant pace-- since 9am. Fresh undies for all. Matched socks. T-shirts that smell like fresh rain. Bath towels stacked to tower height.

To entertain myself between loads I have sunk to an all time TV low, I am watching season one of Tori & Dean:Inn Love. Why? Why am I watching this ridiculous reality TV show? For some odd and demented reason I am laughing (out loud) at Tori catching a mouse from the blue room bathtub and sneaking it out in a shoe in avoidance of guest awareness...mental check for me? I believe so!

I suppose I will relish in the remainder of humdrum Tuesday because the rest of the week lends little for a calendar break--open houses, fall sport pep rally night, football games and marching band...

The Powerhouse

It's a slumber par-tay in the basement family room tonight. The celebration--we are the people with the power, the electricity. M has her "in the dark" posse down there staying cool, pillows and blankets swallow the sectional couch. The girls are eating ice cream, popsicles, popcorn, drinking soda-pop. All while doing a round of DDR, rocking out with Guitar Hero, watching movies, telling stories about high school life as a freshman, moans of how they are to survive a year of French II with a certain teacher...

In other words, it is incredibly fun to see M and her friends being giddy high school girls. It even more fun to see and hear our resident senior Princess A join in the conversation and know exactly what and whom they are talking about.

Today, I love teenage girls--even more than yesterday. And...since,I loved them a ton yesterday I love them two tons today.

Blog Interuption

Pardon me while I take an intermission from blogging. True I have a bit more; actually a lot of school supply shopping. Real reason for this unplanned interuption is I have a 7th grade Challenge English class homework assignment. Yes me, the parent--a paper titled ONE IN A MILLION.

In a "million words or less" (I'm teetering with the idea of going for the million words to screw with the teacher, I love a challenge) I am to describe my child...basically introduce D.

I am sweating my use of proper grammar, punctuation, pulling out my thesaurus to jazz up my vocabulary...I am on a mission to receive an A, nothing less will I settle for.

Since the English teacher and I share a surname I am planning my witty sign off...Respectfully submitted by "The Other" Mrs. A.

Back on the Sandwich Bandwagon

They're off, off to the first day of school--12th grade, 9th grade and 7th grade.

When I asked the girls what they wanted me to pack in there lunches M moaned "back on the sandwich bandwagon". (I think she is having a hard time embracing the standard staple of school lunches--the sandwich. Since our backpacks while hiking the month of June were always stuffed with a sandwich.) Princess A is also still suffering from the affects of sandwich overload, sandwich burnout. She did however request a turkey and cheddar on sour dough. M requested turkey with lettuce on white...because we all know she only likes the white bread. D on the other hand is not totally ready to embrace the sandwich bandwagon and requested a chef salad--I obliged her.

Of course the day started with alarm clock music; a little Beatles, a little Christian rock. Really mixing it up. The guy upstairs knew I was going to need a higher power presence (this day via music) to make it through this morning...looming ahead was another fashion fight--static with stilettos.

While Princess A and D dressed minus any dissension M was preparing to duel the queen. (FYI, the queen always wins!) A & M had to get their dress fix in on the first day since zero hour band rehearsals start tomorrow...that means comfortable marching clothes. D, well, she is finding her feminine side--finally.

Back brace. M has chosen to make a medical decision, relinquishing herself from the bondage of her brace. I gently said, if some ogre is going to be cruel on the first day they are certainly going to be cruel on the second, third, fourth...but I'm just a mom, what do I know. Princess A assured her that this is high school, not middle school; people aren't that cruel they've matured--hopefully. Shoes. As you can tell from this years first day of school picture I was without a doubt going to achieve victory in the shoes battle--or barefoot it would be. We found compromise with the borrowing of a pair of metallic weave wedge sandals from Princess A's closest. Stiletto subject settled.

D walked to the bus stop at exactly 6:54am and 56 seconds. The bus arrived at 6:55am. Perfect timing. We managed to avoid the stress topic of the gummed reinforcers. Thank you very much.

At precisely 7:15am Princess A and M loaded themselves, a few spiral notebooks and pencils in the Toyota to test out the official nature of that newly acquired high school campus parking permit.

Here I sit, alone, with loads of dirty laundry. First, off to the doctor...this summer cold has become something more than just a cold.

**************************************************
1254PM: King Ralph called to inform he has procured a package of gummed reinforcers. This hot potato is closed!

First Day of School Eve

To simply sum up the first day of school eve--King Ralph wishes he was on the night shift this month so to avoid all the female teenage drama that accompanies this eve.

When I returned home from the first ever "Freshman Transition Day" I was worked up at the lack of conscience on the part of the upper classmen who volunteered themselves up as mentors...not to mention the lack of organization the day possessed. So, I fired off a letter to the freshman principal, who then forwarded it the head principal, who then forwarded it to the freshman counselor...to make the long story short it seems the head principal has named me a parent member of next years transition day committee.

Princess A helped to save the afternoon of freshman newbie nerves by helping M plot a course of direction to properly navigate the hallways of her "new" school. The calmness of an afternoon turned to twisted nerves, cries of "please don't make me wear this back brace the first day" which elevated into "I'm going to be the freak in the freshman class" to "you have no trust in me"...a full blown poor-me-life-handed-me-a-barrel-of-lemons episode. I tried, like a any good mom, to assure M that one can make lemonade from a barrel of lemons. Then it seems she drinks the lemonade from a old smelly shoe instead of a nice crystal beverage glass. I'll trudge on doing my job best I can...self esteem I say you are there somewhere.

In the mean time D suddenly decided to jump on the sister's fashion wagon. She has informed us she does not have ownership of a proper purse to match the printed dress that is to be the first day of school outfit. Never mind borrowing M's purse which is a perfect match because, in the midst of a melt down you do not ask to borrow anything from a fellow melt downer. Besides what does a 7th grader need a purse for? Her tampon? Okay, I'll give you that--if she was menstruating, which doesn't seem to be at this present time. Then to make the drama even richer she had a total flip out over the fact I did not purchase gummed reinforcers (which were on the school list). You "definitely need these the first day of school". To which I say h-o-g-w-a-s-h. I struck a deal if any teacher curses D for her lack of gummed reinforcers to strengthen those hole punched papers I will do her chores for a week. I am almost certain I will not be unloading the dish washer or taking out the trash.

Princess A was in a tizzy over needing a slip for her black linen skirt. Why don't stores sell slips anymore? The "spousal equivalent" aka opticman did a segment on his radio show about this...woman do in fact still need slips, really more often than they think. So being the genius mother I am I took one of my hibernating 80's ankle length slips and hacked it off. Presto instant mini slip. When I had to give my opinion on the perfect necklace--I thought the King was going to loose it. He just doesn't understand the being of a teenage girl, girls!

Really...honestly...I could use another of Lisa's margaritas! I guess with my summer cold I'll have to settle for a shot of NyQuil.

...continued

I just lifted my September issue of Good Housekeeping from its plastic postage wrap...the cover reads "Easy! 20 Chicken Recipes" It's like the devil has a hold of me--both in temperature and chicken. I think I may have even dreamt I got a job at Tyson, plucking chickens.

How can I escape the chicken? I'm drowning.

Chicken Hell

Chicken. Hell. Chicken Hell. I am in Chicken Hell.

I know this because the only thing in our freezer is chicken. I know for certain I am in hell-- temperatures swirl at 105*, lest not forget it "feels like 107*". So that certainly means hell? Yes.

King Ralph went to the grocery store last evening for his own fruition. He returned with $140 of light, fat free, low or no cholesterol food options--rices, yogurts, ramen noodles (in a variety of flavors)...the only produce he managed to toss in the cart was blueberries and green grapes... and chicken. He actually suggested I toss the Popsicles to make room for the chicken. CHICKEN-CHICKEN-CHICKEN.

I am beginning to emanate chicken from my pores. My girls have sprung the beginnings of a beak. As the King's cholesterol lowers our feet are morphing into web. I no longer yell at my girls, I cluck. No need to shave we preen.

I am in chicken hell. Cholesterol-free-chicken-hell.

I had a break down, like Tim Allen's character in Wild Hogs, I mashed potatoes and drowned them in butter barely escaping my desire to literally eat the stick whole.

Last night I binged on brownies my friend baked me. I couldn't decide how many I should stop with on my binge...and I was not about to go "super-model" after the binge, I was keeping them--all four. I need a mixer for the chicken. I need fat grams.

I am to the point of chicken hell where my dreams are certain to turn nightmare--Colonel Sanders chasing me with a butcher knife and a bowl of his original recipe seasoning.

God save the chicken. Save me!

The Best Koolaid Stand Ever!

While I sip Apple-Cranberry martini(s) here in Michigan...I am flipping through my sis's bartender pocket book.

If I have a stand with this koolaid will you come? Do you think I will make a lot of money...even have enough customers to make it worth my while?

Electric Koolaid Cocktail Recipe

Ingredients : - 1/2 oz amaretto
- 1/2 oz blue curacao liqueur
- 1/2 oz peach liqueur
- 1/2 oz melon liqueur (midori, melloni...)
- 1/2 oz cherry brandy
- fill with 1/2 sweet and sour mix
- fill with 1/2 cranberry juice
- 1 splash grenadine syrup

What do you charge for such a fine cup of koolaid? Should I card?

Innocence

I don't know if my niece Chlo-Yo and I are buds because I witnessed her entrance into the world--but we are. Always have been. Always will be.

Today at the beach-- as we sat on our towels playing a game-- she was so adorable when she innocently and sweetly said with a dose of amazement,"oh-my-gosh did you see what God just did, wasn't that cool". All "God" did was move a cloud over the sun.

I wish I still had the thrill of a child. Instead I have a mild sunburn.

Choo-Choo

Me and D are taking the train to MI tomorrow morning--on the 435am train bound for Chicago before catching another on to Ann Arbor. We are excited despite the ridiculous time.

Princess A and M are off to 4 days of intense band rehearsals in the wilderness...removed from all the distraction of everyday life. It's going to be an all out sweat fest. 100* temperatures swirl. God lov'm!

The King...well...he's gonna keep castle solo. Four estrogen free days. For some strange reason I think he wishes we were all going to be home to drive him batty.

Celebrating a Year Older

Friday, my actual birthday, I spent torturing myself in wilds of the school supply isle at Walmart all in the name of tax free day...to what save a few pennies while losing compassion for my fellow man, or this situation mothers? I watched a mother beat her toddler in the cart for touching the pencil pouches and then beating her again for crying. I listened to a mother's response to every thing her child read off the school list with a "bullshit". I tried like hell with my psychic abilities to get the lane blockers to move there carts to one side of the isle--my power weakens in my year older state. All the while I silently sang Happy Birthday to myself; spirits up I said. I had a lunch date for Chinese with King Ralph and D. Then at 515pm I got my annual millisecond of fame with my sister-in-law's DJ spousal equivalent's on air birthday shout-out. I ended the day by falling asleep on my new couch-- my favorite thing to do.

Saturday, myself, my niece (whose birthday is August 1) and spousal equivalent (whose birthday is August 4)-- whom we affectionately nicknamed "Opticman"-- had our annual celebration...this year pool party style. I sipped margaritas while the others tipped back beers and pina coladas.

Here we are with our fantastic pool party birthday cake (half chocolate, half yellow with custard filling)...


Wait I think you need a close up of that cake...


To say the least, it was a great birthday!

Brain Fart

I am not sure if it is the fact that I am a year older today, waking at 6am to prepare the girls' marching band water coolers, staying up till after midnight or a combo of all--I cannot type my own entries or even reply to others without some type of error with a dyslexic flair. I mean to type fond and I type found. I mean to how and I type who. There is something happening up here in my head and it could be more than just a little brain fart?

Chanel No. 5?

It seems to be happening more frequently--home alone.

So what's a girl to do? Invite a friend over for popcorn and a Blockbuster movie? Exactly.

The flick was Perfume The Story of a Murder. In the event that my scent may evoke some emotional meaning to a curious male--this movie let's me know bathed or unbathed makes no difference. Let's just say I may have to rethink the whole sweet smelling scent splashed on my body.

Strange, strange movie.

Big Day

It's a big day around here...Princess A drove solo (meaning no mom or dad in the passenger seat)--M was in the passenger seat instead. There she went at 635am zipping down the street in the little blue Toyota towards school. One hand I bit my nails, with the other I swept up King Ralph's falling hair--as if it were a ceremony we stood watching from the front door glass.

It's also the first day to the end of the summer--marching band rehearsals commence, 7am-530pm of instruments, flags, marching, conditioning training...

Although M has been at practice twirling her flags and sabor now for three weeks this is her first day with everyone, from freshman to seniors, really feeling like she in high school. She left wearing "Helga", with the plan in mind to dump her in the car when the long beginning of director talk ends. She'll learn the arduous routine and figure out how to get her 18 hours of torture managed.

I really don't know what is harder to accept, Princess A with a driver's license, Princess A being a senior in high school or M being a freshman in high school? I might just have to have a stiff drink tonight to help soak it all up and in!

AAAAHHHHH

how the $%&^ do you get this twitter on the side!?? HELP! I hate being computer stupid!

Cholesterol

King Ralph had his yearly physical. The king, has high cholesterol. We are now on a chicken diet.

I may have to reinvent the shrimp scene from Forrest Gump with chicken...there's chicken soup, broiled chicken, baked chicken, chicken with rice, chicken with broccoli, chicken stew, rosemary chicken...

Chances are we will all start to cluck and grow feathers behind our ears.

War of the Roses...

...that is how you can imagine purchasing new furniture with King Ralph was like.

At one store we actually had two salesman; one who understood to be on the woman's side meant a sale, while the other was rallying behind the man--bad salesman! No sale here.

After a dozen stores, a refueling with a Lion's Choice roast beef, a diet coke and a badgering from our daughters (I needed some extra neck turning power) King Ralph finally decided that compromise means meeting in the middle, not getting his way.

I really think next time we need new furnishings it would be easier to just shoot myself in the foot.

Dog pulls a Trix move on the Lucky Charns

It came to be known that our little puppy prefers a bowl of Lucky Charms to her morning portions of Purina Puppy Chow. To make things worse I had just prepared this somewhat healthy-nutritious- magically-delicious breakfast for myself with the last bit of the milk--pretty much any hope for a bowl of cereal was dashed away. If only I could train the kids like the dog (has trained itself) to drink all the milk in the bowl. I then scooted Uli out the house to the yard while I murmured something to the affect of... get out there, go crap out magic shapes in 8 colors, silly dog Lucky Charms are for humans...really, it was more like this, @#=$%^&*

The following should be read realizing the quality of sarcasm and annoyance in my tone. The tone only a mother can pull off.

Then top it off M who keeps her room in such impeccable shape offered Uli the option of an evening snack-- M & M's or a Hershey chocolate bar...she took both, consumed one. UHG! That would be a double UHG, one for the room and one for the dog.

On another note, of the musical kind. M has told me to stop singing. That I sing all the time. I am assuming that it is either a bad thing because, my voice sucks, or that she feels threatened by my untapped talent. So now I am surfing YouTube for the perfect Happy Birthday video to send to my brother-in-law--diverting from the usual phone call with moi's voice booming out the celebratory tune.

So now I have loaded the dishwasher, dusted the living/dining room, grilled some meat, cleaned the windows, and well, I feel nostalgic over this summer's road trip...I need another get away. How 'bout another hand full of my favorite picks? Ya? Okay you got it!

Father and daughter climb the incredible red rocks in Garden of the Gods, Colorado Springs

The "Balancing Rock" at Garden of the Gods

Watermelon night at the campground, 1/6 of a melon for $1...cleaned it to the rhine

The last of our self timed family pictures, about 3/4 of the way down Pikes Peak Barr Trail

Brain-on-Pause

I have successfully managed to do nothing today...unless watching TLC's marathon day of Little People Big World counts as doing something...I'm thinking it does not!? Oh wait, how 'bout that grilled cheese I made the hubby before he put on the blues turning into Sergeant Sausage Fingers, headed out the door to bring home the bacon for his fam...that kind of Sunday supper counts for something. Doesn't it?

I did however spend time with the laptop resting on my, ummm, lap, while stretched on the couch picking out what I think are my favorite vacation pictures. I am so daunted by the volume of photos I took that I can't begin to allow myself to load the shots into an online viewing album. Instead I will just post a few here. Enjoy.

The girls taking in the beauty of the Badlands

The girls at Tower Falls in Yellowstone's Grand Canyon

Driving into Gardiner, Montana we crossed this geographical mark

The buffalo (and A & M) that roamed daily in the campground in front of our camper

The Rocky Mountains from The Seven Falls trail...this is the view Helen Hunt Jackson took in while she wrote her novel Ramona

Maybe tomorrow I will post a few more favorites...but it seems Lifetime Movie Network is hosting a Christmas in July movie marathon...as long as I am in the marathon spirit......

A New Twist on the Pick Up

Last night M's orthodontist treated his patients to a screening of the new Harry Potter flick. M was in hysterics when I picked her up. Seems the lad next to her tried to (these are M's words) pick her up via his Blackberry. He typed in "Hi my name is Alex, this is my Blackberry, do you have a Blackberry, HAHAHAHA", stuck it in the cup holder and turned it towards her.

M swears it was a lame attempt to pick her up. I am of the belief the young lad is more in love with the Blackberry than he could be in like with a living breathing human of the opposite sex. However, if it turns out that that was a pick up move-- this generation of young men will be striking out often.

Greatest Movie Line Ever

Ever since we watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding while on our vacation we girls can not refrain from often saying this line to King Ralph--the man may be the head of the house but the woman is the neck (then in unison we continue) and she can turn the head any way she like.

I love that line. We love that line. The king, well, not so much.

It must be hellish (at times) to live in a house of total domination. Even if you are a king, of sorts.

But we still love the king!

The Dog had a Brittany moment

Uli got her first doggie makeover--a day at the dog spa, the beauty parlor.

Like a true female her day of beauty ran two hours over; causing an aggravated delay in our Sunday plans.

When we picked Uli up from the dog groomer she was...bald. We have a bald dog. Now Uli is having an emotional break down. Her once sparkling puppy eyes look sad. I think she feels a bit like we all did when Brittany Spears shaved her head. It may be cause to call in Dr. von Zimmer (remember the shrink in Down and Out in Beverly Hills) to realign Uli's yin and yang.

Maybe she just needs a ball cap and a pair of dark glasses so none of the pooches in the neighborhood recognize her.

We've all had the hair cut that was to short...I guess a dog has to have a moment in time like it also.

A sign it might not be a party

I entered another dimension this evening,a dimension I have actually not entered till tonight--despite its occurrence every year. Wayne's World.


Julie and I strolled through the galaxy with our children and a mojitos...the hubby's trailed behind with a Styrofoam cooler of beer...till we crossed the street and entered "Wayne's World".


Most of the "grown-up" parties I attend have a variety of morsels to choose from to A. soak up any consumed alcoholic beverage in an attempt to keep some what sober or B. because a party always has tasty treats (at least some cocktail weenies for goodness sake). Near the end of the our time in this new dimension Julie spotted a quarter bowl of Doritos. Party? The deck bar--which was tended by a babe in Daisy Dukes and a knotted T-shirt--was plenty stocked.


So I ask, if there is not morsels to consume is it a party? Or is the goal of the evening, after the backyard firework display--which was actually produced more for a sound effect than visual effect; with its 4 half sticks of dynamite blasting sonic booms--more to see who will get drunk enough to sit in the hot tub and get alcohol poisoning first?


That my friends is a STL neighborhood Independence celebration.


Happy Fourth of July!

Shower, No Shoes

Since Wednesday my showers seem to be getting better and better. It just may be that with each shower I have taken since Wednesday [night], it becomes more and more pleasurable to shower minus my Old Navy brown flip-flops. While the fear of some foot fungus that would require me to take doses and doses of Lamisil or have planters warts singed from bottoms of my feet are now eluding me; I am in a state of rhapsody. I wiggled my toes in the collecting water in the shower basin before it swirls down the drain--just because I can. I try to moon walk on the basin tiles, of course with little success or similarity to the move--I do it because I can, with no shoes.

I am sitting here typing away with my bath sheet wrapped tightly around me, feet dancing to the softly playing music I have going--just because I can. The idea that I must leave the house in 30 minutes, that I have to dress and end this moment of post-camping ecstasy is, well, kind of a bummer. Not that I'm looking to be a near nudist or anything close to it...but, showering in campground bathrooms for three weeks leaves little room to linger after a bathe.

I suppose I should go lather myself in melon lotion, dress and continue on with the Saturday chores.

Life is good with no shoes in the shower!

Simply Summing It Up

24 days
4 National Forests
3 National Parks
2 National Monuments
More mountain ranges than we can name
77 miles of hiking
3 collectable snow globes
8 souvenir t-shirts
1 souvenir hoodie
1 Christmas ornament
1 oil change
3 car washes
$40 in quarters for the laundry mat
3 Greatest Hits CD’s
2 Classic Rock CD’s
iPod tunes enough to choke a horse
15 DVD's
10 campgrounds
1 hotel
More dollars than I want to admit we spent--mostly on gas (most expensive $3.49 a gallon; cheapest $2.79 a gallon)
2000 plus snap shots
1 mountain that kicked my *^%
4251 miles traveled
WE ARE HOME!
Increasing our living space by more at least 3000%

Now I just have to…
Move the house back in from the camper
Do 15 loads of laundry
Restock the house with groceries
Take whirlpool baths three times a day while eating Advil like M & M candies
Sort through a pile of mail as tall as Pikes Peak
Pay bills
Watch King Ralph shave the beard
And life…well, it should resume to normal in no time at all!

(Uli was so darn happy to see us all she nearly wet the grass doing flips at the sight of us)

Almost Home

I am near cripple. It's okay to laugh, I cannot help but laugh at myself every time I exit the car. The girls laugh, take video to remember this moment, then we all laugh (at me) together. My hip muscles (which I didn't even know I possessed or possibly only used in the spawning of my offspring) are so stiff I walk like I am on the hunt for a cane...no a wheel chair...actually I walk like a duck with a stick up its butt. I am on a four hour cycle of popping 600mg of Motrin with a gas station soda pop chaser-- so I can exit the car at rest stops. I do not take steps without comments from strange gentlemen...one said "traveling is hard on the body", another guy at a rest stop hung his head out his car window and said "I'm fifty and don't walk nearly like that". To both I replied, well I hiked Pikes Peak yesterday, so there! Regardless the crippled condition I am in, I am 100% glad I can say I took on the Pike. (I'm thinking in four days I should be back to normal).

King Ralph wanted to try to take on a straight through drive from Colorado Springs to St.Louis--crazy foolish idea. The girls devised a plan (while in the gas station rest room) to play Patsy Cline's greatest hits (not his favorite CD) and sing every word (which they do know) till he agreed to stop at a hotel for the night. They popped in the CD. King Ralph thought they were so funny that he danced to the tunes, even repeating a song or two. The plan either worked or the king finally admitted to himself (not us) that he was tired and crazy to try a 14 hour drive in one day. Here I (we) sit at the Days Inn -Topeka Kansas.

The Days Inn...aaaahhhhh! A hot tub...double aaaaahhhh! I took a shower without my flip flops on...triple aaaaahhhh! A TV with a screen larger than 14 inches in a room which more than quadrupled our recent living space...ah, ah, ah.

I'm so close to home I can almost smell home sweet home.

Celebrating with an alcoholic beverage

Excuse me while I toss back a Smirnoff Ice and sing America the Beautiful-- in celebration of a marvelous feat...I climbed-- as did the spouse and our offspring-- Pikes Peak.

It was an early start, with a ride to the summit on the Cog Railway's 8am train. We snapped a quick photo at the summit sign and we were off.

The first 2 miles were the most difficult-- snowy. Maddi lost her footing on the snow and went for a body surf down the mountain for about, we guesstimated 50-100 ft. When she finally came to a stop we called out to make sure she was okay...she cried because her "hands were cold". Then we felt it okay to laugh a little. Honestly it was rather spooky!


It took us 7 hours (with a 30 minute lunch break at Barr Camp) to hike the 13 miles from Pikes Peak Summit down to Manitou by way of Barr Trail.

(here we are at the end, 13 miles and totally exhausted)

To be honest, as I sip my cocktail, I feel a bit crippled in the feet, legs, hips...hell I feel it from head to toe. I am without a doubt proud of our final adventure on this, Vacation 2007!

Row Row Row the Boat

Today was a day of white water rafting on the Arkansas River with Echo Canyon Rafting Co. Our river guide J.T. was great--very personable, as well as river knowledgable. He said the five of us were "awesome" in some of the tougher rapids (better than the Boy Scouts he had yesterday). We were a family in sync (at least with paddles).

So I'll leave you with a picture of our adventure.

Tomorrow is our last day in Colorado. We postponed our Pikes Peak hike for last Sunday till tomorrow... will let you all know how it goes when we complete the challenge.

Dr. Phil Please Diagnose

So the conversation went like this...

Me: M you are totally crazy

M: I know I am

Me: you need to chill, calm down...you're losing your mind

M: I am crazy... I have lost my mind... wouldn't you think I have reason after being in a camper this long and not talking to anyone but you four people...

Truth is M has a good point! We are all crazy--in a good way--from this trip, this experience. We have laughed so hard we have all wet our pants (well not the king, he laughs but has total bladder control, still). We have gotten on a few of our nerves but, still laugh and still love. Good memories are being made.

With that said trip continues...tomorrow's adventure Royal Gorge Bridge.

The Estate on Wheels

I know you all have been wondering, chomping at the bit, dying to know what our lovely little eBay purchased collapsible estate on wheels looks like...it's your lucky day because, I am giving free tours this morning of our luxurious June residence (before we pack up and head off for our final destination of the trip, Colorado Springs).

Camper Sweet Camper

(This photo was taken @ the Bridge Bay campground in Yellowstone National Park)

(The Kitchen--at work as you can see)

(A little more kitchen; when you turn your back. Wow a microwave--not used in Yellowstone or Grand Tetons, no electric there)

(The Pantry)

(The tri-feca of camping space--dining room, couch and D's bedroom)

(Behind the dining room is Princess A & M's bedroom)

(The master bedroom--on a cold night in Yellowstone can sleep three girls)

Final on the tour...

(The bathroom--complete with Tidy Bowl blue water when flushed)

John Denver Sing to Us...

...so I popped in his CD and he sang, Rocky Mountain High. Good gosh only I would have a John Denver CD. But it was a rather fitting song as we drove back to the camper after an afternoon of hiking in the mountains. I enjoyed the Rocky Mountain National Park hiking best of all. The nature that surrounds is spectacular.

You may (or may not) want to know (but you're going to hear anyway) the campground we are at was once land purchased to use as a set for the filming of Bonanza and The Virginian. Turns out after only 3 episodes of Bonanza and a few Virginians filmed the creators of the series decided the weather was to unpredictable and closed up shop; and sold the land off. Also in the lodge there is a bar (from the old Winston Hotel in Denver) that Calamity Jane once tried to belly up however, being a girl they would not serve her so she shot the place up. There you have it, a little history lesson. This campground is nice! The bathroom smells like cleaning product --which after the "Fountain of Death"-- puts a smile so huge on my face. The pool is heated so the girls swam after the hike yesterday.

I will leave you with a few pics from our hike...

Off to New Territory

At this present time (not posting time) we are cruising down I-25 heading south on our way to Estes Park, Colorado. I cannot be happier to say we are out of Thermopolis—even more so Fountain of Youth RV Park. Fountain of Youth, ha, Fountain of Death! The nastiest RV park ever; complete with a child-molesting father groping his teen daughter in the hot mineral pool (right in eye’s view)! I will spare you all other details. I do however continue to question why FDR felt the hot mineral springs had medicinal healing powers…I feel it is a warm pot of pee, germ breeding gross water. Never take me back here again. (This was King Ralph’s pick).

Little Camper on the Highway and the mini-van has now logged 2618 miles, reached elevation of over 9600 feet, on travel day 14 with 10 to go. I am happy to report we have not left [on purpose] any member of family behind. But have had a moment or two of constant togetherness--that is when vodka and rum comes in handy.

We have logged nearly 60 miles of hiking.

King Ralph has a beard, and I am not sure if being in 12 sq ft with 4 women is the cause for the gray coloring or if it is just due to his age. He also has been in the company of we women long enough that he makes statement/questions in stores like; “tampons, do you need any?” Which is a bit on the scary side.

I have been on the road for so long enough now that I have taken to having my daily constitution in public places (something I have swore to never do). I have perfected the art of sandwich making while flying down the highway at 65 mph—ham & cheddar or turkey & mozzarella.

Princess A is an artist at makeup application while bumping and bouncing down the highway.

M has taken near permanent residence in the “way back” to ease the discomfort of wearing “Helga” (the back brace)—except at moments like now, when she gets car sick from watching a movie in the car, taking place in the navigator's seat.

D has spotted all but 2 state license plates (Rhode Island and Hawaii).

We are also wondering if Uli has forgotten she has a family or if our friends will give her back to us upon our return home.