Somebody, Quick, Turn Back Time

This is it, officially the last week of summer break.  Sigh. Next Tuesday I will be posting a picture of M & D as they head off for a new school year; for M her final year of high school, for D a move up the "food chain".  For me the last year in my building before its transition back to a middle school--twenty-five years as an elementary school comes to an end.  So today we are all waking early making our own transitions.  As wonderful as staying awake till 130am watching old black and white movies is...real life beckons to rear its ugly face once again.  Alarms will awaken at 515am, while lunches will need to be packed and pencils sharpened.  All the absences that made summer break so enjoyable are ending.  Resurfacing will be those famous Avery Sister fashion fights: she's wearing my socks, I didn't say you could wear that shirt, hey those are my sandals take'm off...oh gosh I can hardly wait.  Not!  Till then we have last minute summer reading requirements that are in the crunch mode--for a seventeen-year old Madame Bovary lacks that grasp-ya.

In the mean time I have been getting in last minute appointments. M tried again, to no avail, to find a cure for her vision condition.  Now we just sit back and watch her eyes slowly change till the inevitable of another surgery.  No time frame was given, and I didn't care to ask, just left knowing one day she'll be under the knife again.  However in the possibilities of health issues I dare not complain.  Her life is full and rich despite.

Friday Princess A and I will be off to explore her new university choice through an orientation.  She's at peace with her decision to make the transfer and of course when I paid her tuition I felt my wallet sing a Pink Floyd tune.  Okay so we don't have enough money left to buy a football team but there is cash left for maybe a two star [not a four star] dream.  However it's not about how much money King Ralph and I are saving, it is about Princess A finding happiness in her journey through higher education; coming to a place where she feels undistracted and satisfied with her level of intelligence.  I know she will be thrilled to not be sick all time.  When she was away at school she spent more time in the health center seeking cures than she went to the pediatrician in her early years.  The Dayquil/Nyquil profits will take a hit with our Princess A healthily  residing at home.

All this realization of what is about to start all over again means one thing...three more days to bronze my skin.

Good-bye blog, hello pool.

:-)

Yesterday was a happy day.  Not because I spent the afternoon floating in the pool bronzing my skin.  Not because there was no band practice to drive to at the crack of the summer's day's dawn.  Not because Mother Nature gave a break from the oppressive heat (well truth be that sure did add to the happy day).  Not because I have just made my auto insurance company a little bit wealthier.  Yesterday was a happy day because M got her driver's license! 

Now I am not sure it was an all out happy day for me or King Ralph since sending our kid out on the road solo means noshing at our fingers nails till our baby girl returns home safely.  Regardless we have been through this teen driver experience once before...it never minimizes the parental stress.  We do hope that having our girls wait to drive till they are high school seniors, allowing the last portion of the developing brain to evolve--reasoning--helps them to be more responsible drivers.  We really are proponents of making the driving age 18.       

Since King Ralph's new life goal is to have more cars in front of our house than the frat boys next door...we have a little Honda we added to our stock.

So here's to you M, may you never roll a stop sign and may you always drive the speed limit. You too M can be the receiver of Dad's standard last words as you walk out the door--"be safe."

Yes, be safe.    



  

Add Candle Please

I am celebrating the merriment of growing a year older.  Or am I celebrating the merriment being perimenapausal?

I had this dream last week that I took a pregnancy test and it came out showing an odd sign on the stick so I peed on the stick again for it to show positive.  I believe I woke in a sweat, a cold sweat this time.  I mentioned to Princess A and D last night my lack of menstruating when it was suggested that my dream might be coming true.  I don't know what made me speak what was rolling in my mind out loud but I replied "not a chance I was in a camper" forget the dawg was snipped a decade plus ago.  The look on D's face was, well, priceless.  Forget that my favorite thing in life was to trap the girls in the car and talk sex ed with them (a trapped captive audience when driving 65mph down the highway can't escape the lessons)-- they would prefer to believe a stork dropped them off at the door than that their parents....

I considered making this Paula Dean treat for myself for my birthday except one, it is to damn hot outside to fire up the oven and two, with my metabolism all whacked the last thing I need to add is hard to burn fat to my frame.  I guess I'll stick a candle in my celery stalk snack.

I am going to take the hiatus of the curse of womanhood as a birthday gift of sorts.  What do I call that two hour hot flash I had Saturday night causing me to lose sleep?        

If I don't melt away on this birthday of mine I will consider it a great accomplishment in my year older--feels like 111* today. Uhg!

Here's to great adventures to come in my-- another year older.

The Week's Calendar Says

My week is filled with driving M to the high school for more of this...

I suppose someday when my calendar doesn't say it is filled with this, I will miss it.  Until then waking at 6am in the summer to drive screams--nightmare. 

Hey Chelsea, How 'bout One of These Tasty Treats

These delicious cup sized cakes are full of glutens and animal products.  They don't stop traffic but yet certainly could.  They could cause gluttony but at the beer man's budget.  I bet they would go good with a nice bottle of $9.99 wine from my rack--that was not complimentary.      

I'm just saying....

Swagger Wagon I Will Always Remember You With Fondness and Love

She sparkles like diamond dust in the shining sun but is black as ebony. She purrs like a kitty and glides like freshly sharpened skates on smooth ice. She's muscular yet feminine. She prefers the scent of lavender to musk. She hums country while still able to breathe rock and jazz. She could lift granite but prefers silk. Could fill with Kens but will fill with Barbies. She prefers TUMS to Smarties. She is my Anna Sewell novel--my Black Beauty.

MY new ride.

I Dare Not Complain About the Heat

While I am inside enjoying the pleasures of air conditioning, on these miserable hot Saint Louis summer days, my middle girl is doing this:

(in this clip she's the one getting a drink of water)
 
(in this clip, near the end, she's the girl with the flag in hand)

I am Br'er Rabbit On The Hunt For A New Ride

Being a parent comes with it moments, especially when you have a teen who lapses momentarily in sound judgement and thinks she is dumb like a fox.  Don't kids realize parents always find out and the consequence is always greater than the moment of thrill?  So while I have one child and her electronics on house arrest I found a very comical text yesterday she received, it goes like this: "hey jailbird! i've been doing some thinking about your predicament, and im going to mail you a copy of "escape from alcatraz" for inspiration"

Oh course I laughed; then went and hid all the nail files, shovels and rope. Then I uncovered my copy of Scholastic Grammar Lessons & Strategies to mail to the textor; who apparently missed the lessons on capitalization and punctuation way back in first grade.

Now to the thing that has me chewing on TUMS...buying a new vehicle.

While we were on vacation and the swagger wagon was huffing her way up Hwy 550 in Colorado (most gorgeous scenic drive ever!) towing the pop-up I told King Ralph I thought we should start putting our retirement plan into the works and purchase a truck.  Then while we were cranking up the pop-up I decided we need to invest in an expandable travel trailer to make our lives easier.  Never mind we are like magicians with that darn camper, in the snap of the fingers she is up and ready for company...it just got old every three days cranking her up and down.  So today, again, we are out searching for the perfect quad cab truck.  Buying vehicles makes my stomach hurt.  I really thought when we started the search that I was feeling good about it, being that we have all our finances in order...nevertheless big ticket items make my stomach ache and my head hurt.

Here's to hoping the heat doesn't kill while walking the car lots before I overdose on TUMS and sign on the dotted line.    

I Feel Like Marian Paroo and Carol Peterson And It's Just Monday

It's Monday.

Which means a couple of things.

One, even though I'm still on summer break M and 190 others friends claim they are not. Which somehow seems unfair because I love staying up late watching old black and white movies and sleeping till 930am. Leaving the house at 630am seems sort of like a cruel punishment. Seems? No it is!  But someone else has other plans for me...that someone leads the band.  Yep, marching band is back in full swing.  Sure M's been spinning her flag and rifle like there is no tomorrow since the first part of June--today marks the beginning of full band.  This means up early, fighting the campus construction, parents and teenage drivers on the high school lot. For M it means up early, out in the heat and humidity all day, working towards the same goal as her 190 friends, coming home to be crabby by 7pm and in bed by 9pm dreaming of bandwiches and marching down Pasadena's Colorado Blvd.  

Second, as mysteriously as the Klopek's came and went so comes our new temporary neighbors...we'll call them "frat boys".  Although we are not sure how many boys fill the house we are certain by the cars parked in the driveway and on the street that there will be many.  King Ralph is walking around instructing the girls not to talk to the "frat boys" or even look there way. Protective father, oh-brother.  I have a feeling landlord has let it be known that those of us who bookend the ole' mysterious rental house are not all that fond of our revolving neighbors.  I have a feeling I may have more to share about the "frat boys"...time will tell.  I'm thinking it's gonna be an Animal House this go around.   

Now, since Mondays mean really only one thing around this female dominating house, The Bachlorette (cause there is nothing better than cheesy-trashy-head-shaking-love-seeking-mini-porn reality televison), I must part way.

Until later....            

Funny Things Get Heard on the Way Through Parenthood

The girls like to keep us laughing and turning our hairs grey...of course we wouldn't have it any other way.

Here's a few weekend moments. 

-I love it when King Ralph is doing something so neandrathal like and M says
"you married that, I was born into it."  Either way you look at it we are stuck with it.


-I love it when I am in a deep parent/teenager conversation of lesson taught/learned and D walks in and immediately looks at me, interrupts by saying, "ooooo mom you need to color your hair."  Everyone of these grey hairs is like a badge I earned. Some nearly scream Olympic gold medal. 

-I love getting in Princess A's car to find her latest musical selection is the late Frank Sinatra. Listening to what comes out of her car speakers is like a Cracker Jack surprise--one day it is disgusting rap, the next great classic rock and then today....   

Just a few reasons I absolutely love being a mom, their mom.

How I Met My Daughter's Roommate

There is some reality TV shows that I just have to draw the line at watching--Toddlers & Tiaras is one of those. I blame it on Jon Benet Ramsey who's passing brought spotlight to the world of little people beauty pageantry. A world of pint sized babes with over lacquered hair, pancaked make-up, spray on tans, fake teeth called flippers and Little Miss Sunshine talent moves.

Last November Princess A's long time college roommate withdrew from school due to a serious medical condition. She went quite a long while living the private dorm room life. If you can't have the roommate you love and adore than sleeping single in a double room was the cat's meow.

Until...

"Miss America" moved in.

Well, not literally Miss America, more like Missouri Miss Teen International. Not one of those authentic titles either; it's one of those titles you purchase with an over priced pageant entry fee. "Miss America" was Princess A's roommate from hell. She would never take the trash out and when suggested would ask how to perform such a task. Making a bed...another task that offered challenge, requiring a lesson (but not given more than an eye roll of "really") . The saving grace was "Miss America" was hardly a permanent resident of the room. I often visited Princess A at college, with it being only a hundred miles away, and never once did I meet the illusive roommate. Not once.

Now I know why.

I was out last night and received a call I answered to a screeching voice that was near inaudible. It turns out "Miss America" made her debut on Toddlers & Tiaras. She is a pageant coach, has her own home run business complete with a pageant practice room. OMG! "Miss America" was responsible for several of these pint sized beauty babes trying to attain a "supreme title" in some small town here in Missouri. And double OMG that I actually sat to watch my first (and last) episode of this absolutely ridiculous reality show laced with mom's who appear to have missed out on what they probably see as their long desired opportunity to a sparkling crown, satin sash and a title of there own.

While King Ralph and I were meeting the roommate for the first time, Princess A's cell phone was ringing and buzzing with text coming in from sorority sisters. All the while I just sat there shaking my head saying seriously.

So while we never got to meet and greet the roommate at least know we know what she was up. She was busy enhancing the world with fabricated beauty.

Add Another Candle to the Cake

His age fluctuates depending, he says, on how the teenagers behave and their ability to drive him totally crazy.

Some days he is 51 and some days he claims to be 65.

Today we'll stick with celebrating you turning fifty-one.

I am of the belief that living in a house of female domination keeps you youthful.

Happy Birthday honey!

Please Daddy Not Dodge City

Since King Ralph has a vague resemblance to Chevy Chase he had this idea that we should retrace a few of the Clark Griswold's steps from his Lampoon Vacation. Mainly a visit to Dodge City.

Rewind with me.

A week before we left I had made my weekly call to my Grandma who told me she had been to Dodge City and had nothing positive to say about it; pretty much dogged any hope it had. I decided to hold this information to myself as I didn't want to spoil a vacation stop King Ralph had visions for. Especially after I convinced the family to take that detour to the Oz Museum to see scary mannequins impersonating characters from the Wizard of Oz...I figured I should keep my mouth shut. Only fair I have an imprinted horror vision of a poorly recreated western city imprinted on my mind since King Ralph is left with this Dorothy: Then as we sprawled out in our spacious Marriott room the girls began questioning Dodge City. Before we know it we were ending our trip on a near Clark Griswold location. Not Wallyworld but Worlds of Fun in Kansas City.

After a day of centrifugal force on the brain from high velocity roller coasters and constant spinning in circles from crazy amusement park rides--it was home to good ole'St. Louis.

In the Rapid Sunshine Before Demi Spilled Over

Click on the title for a peek into our white water trip on the Royal Gorge.

The Destination That Never Happened

We left Mesa Verde with the car set in the direction of the Great Sand Dunes National Park. As we drove along the rain started to fall more and more. As we approached the GSDNP the mountains were draped in rain clouds so thick that the mountains were invisible. I had been checking the weather from my cell phone for a few days and what was to be great sunny days in the eighties was now offering days with thunderstorms and temperatures in the low seventies/high sixties [for the day time hours]. We quickly decided on a change of plans. We figured with two days rain five grown people in a pop-up camper would offer little long term harmony. We then came to the conclusion we had no choice but to forfeit our prepaid $28 in camp fees.

Where to go to now? We threw around some ideas. The idea of heading to Colorado Springs and taking in the Rocky Mountain National Park again was one idea. It was our favorite hiking when we last visited Colorado in 2007. Good thing we didn't as we heard on the radio the next morning the park had roads closed due to snow. Snow in July? That snow, cold front, from the Rockies was putting a rainy chill all around. In the end we ended up at a Marriott in Pueblo we Pricelined.

You would have enjoyed the sight of us in the parking lot. Since this hotel was in the downtown historic area of Pueblo we didn't have a large parking to maneuver the camper around in. Nor did we have a dark area behind the building to open the camper and retrieve pajamas and clean clothes. There we were in the front of the building with the camper opened 2 feet and the bed ends pulled just enough to access clothing. Princess A and a flashlight stuffed through the crack reacting to commands--clean underwear, black shorts, pajamas....

Then we entered what felt like a palace--the hotel room. We were missing a national park we so wanted to see, but we had to see a plus in this. We were missing BBQ and marshmallows roasted over a camp fire...but all this space and cable TV was like champagne and caviar. No one was fighting the rain to set up camp. Instead fighting about who was sleeping on the floor.
Until...

We headed to bed when Princess A had to remind us that our toothbrushes were sealed tight inside the camper. King Ralph asked if his black bag was in the room and we said yes. He smiled and said "I got my toothbrush." Well, girls we have floss and gum. If Jessica Simpson can get away with only brushing her teeth twice a week we could manage a toothpaste mouthwash, floss and peppermint gum for a day.

With one change we decided to make another change. And, we wer off to...

Mesa Verde National Park

My good friend emailed me today and asked if we had a national park passport. Funny thing is we looked at the passport in the Mesa Verde Far View Visitor Center; I commented we should have bought one back in 2007 when we visited our first national park:Badlands. Oh well, live and learn. So after a short 40 mile drive from Durango to Mesa Verde we realized we were back in a desert region. We stopped to take our usual entrance sign snap shot and found grandparents who were also snapping a photo with there great-grand kids for a keepsake. We shared snapping each other's family souvenir photos. We set up camp. Toured some of the no ticket necessary cliff dwellings before returning to camp to grill steaks and roast marshmallows for S'mores.

We woke in the morning to M complaining she had a stomach ache. Please no, we had tickets for Long House and Cliff Palace. Before we knew it M was experiencing a case of the 24-hour flu. If there was an orifice something was expelling from it. King Ralph felt like this history adventure was more meaningful to me so he wanted me to go with Princess A & D for the tours. I wanted to do one tour, he the other. We made a sick bed in the "way back" of the swagger wagon for M and he stayed with her while the three of us toured Long House. When I got back he told me M had gotten sick again. By the time we got to Cliff Palace he still wanted me to go and him to stay with M. I couldn't change his mind. M hadn't gotten sick in a while and I was able to get her drinking Gatorade. When we got back from the tour I told King Ralph that he could see Cliff Palace from an overlook. He walked slowly with M, who was tearful at missing all this history (her favorite subject in school), for a quick look at Cliff Palace. Truly an amazing sight and perplexes the modern mind in question as to why anyone would want to live in the cliffs.
With M starting to perk back up I made the suggestion we get tickets to Balcony House for the next day 9am tour. That would allow M to experience a cliff dwelling up close and us get back to the camper to pull out on time. I originally didn't want to do Balcony House because of the height. I have this thing, fear, with going up in an area with no safety boundaries. But, for M, anything. When I stopped in the Far View Visitor Center to purchase tickets Princess A and D turned in the Junior Ranger booklet. It was a mission now to achieve Junior Ranger status every place we went. Sadly I told them at Arches we didn't have the time. I took M's oath for her by proxy and later after rehydrating with Gatorade and a wheat bread chaser, presented her with the official plastic ranger badge. To celebrate I believe they sang Colors of the Wind to there Disney CD of favorite tunes. I know, I know, wrong era of Indian but an Indian tribute song nonetheless. Besides King Ralph was starting to go crazy from them singing all those Disney tunes...for some reason a house of girls finds pleasure in aggrevating the only man in the house.

When M woke in the morning she was feeling pretty good. We closed up camp, had the camper sitting there waiting for us to return to hook up and tow away.

Balcony House had it's height for me--tall ladders. Sure my heart beat fast which made breath a bit harder, voices kept saying "are you okay mom"...in the end I am so glad I experienced the dwelling with M. I was okay all the way through. Of course King Ralph couldn't visit the dwelling without the girls snapping his photo as he crawled through the tight entry squares. I know M was glad she felt well enough to experience a cliff dwelling for herself and not have to say she saw Mesa Verde from the back seat of the swagger wagon.

Before we drove out of the park we stopped and took showers. At Mesa Verde the showers are free, an offer unheard of in a national park that offers showers. Oh ya, they have free Wifi in the laundry room and the camp store--at a national park?!

On our drive we passed another continental divide--The Great Divide. No one was in company at the sign to capture our family photo so King Ralph snapped a girls only picture. It was cold at 10,000 feet and the rain was beginning to fall. This marks continental divide number six for us.

Then it was off to the Great Sand Dunes National Park...or so we thought.

Silverton-Durango

It was time to move little camper in the woods. We were off to Silverton-Durango; looking forward to a hot running water shower. Since the Black Canyon of the Gunnison has to haul there water in from Montrose we didn't get the usual comfort stations where you could deposit your gray water as we have in other national parks. We used our gray water from doing dishes to put out campfires at night. Which means washing hair was out of the question. Two days of dusty hair was hidden under hats and a scrubbing was in order. As beautiful as the drive was it was also a bit stressful pulling the camper up the steep, sometimes no guard railed highway; with the swagger wagon towing ever slowly up the mountain. Only a panoramic camera would have served justice in snapping a photo of remembrance of the Switzerland of America. The vision of that drive is stored in my memory as a happy place to go when I need it. Unbelievable beauty of peace and tranquility.


When we got to Silverton, a cute little western gold mine town with a mountain top cool temperature, full of folk getting off the narrow gauge train-- we talked to a local who recommended The Bent Elbow to us for lunch. Yummy. Great home cooked meals of hearty helpings at pocket change prices. The bread pudding with whiskey sauce we shared for dessert was delectable! King Ralph took a taste and said "grandma likes her whiskey". You could almost cop a buzz off that bread pudding. Oh-my-gosh thinking about it makes me hungry for it. We were so preoccupied with the thought of showers we forgot to do the Old Hundred Gold Mine Tour we intended while passing through. Oh well.


We headed down to Durango to a campground that had no Woodall's listing, no Internet site for preview...it was the only campground with Fourth of July availability between Silverton and Durango. When I made the reservation with the old broad I told her I was rolling in there on a wing and prayer. Cottonwood Camper Park needs lots of prayers. WHAT A DUMP! I admit I am a campground snob. I want all the amenities of a hotel with the beauty of nature's surrounds. King Ralph seriously sat there and said "this place is a resort--a last resort". Once we managed to maneuver around the ruts in the dirt ground of our site that resembled four-wheeling tracks we set up our home on wheels and headed to the showers. Suitable shower house...that is my only compliment, because it was then that we realized that our site backed to a dog kennel. Dogs barking 24/7 with the fresh aroma of warm Colorado dog crap in the air. I immediately took the laptop to the bathroom (b/c that was only place you could get Internet reception in the dive) and got numbers of area campgrounds hoping for a cancellation and an open, available spot. Jesus loves me because I found one and the next morning we packed up in record time. Happiness was restored.

After checking in and setting up camp at the charming campground with the Silverton-Durango Narrow Gauge running through it, we decided to rent inner tubes and float the Animas River for the day. If D could handle a bounce into a Class V rapid we figured we were game for tubes in Class II rapids. Water was like an ice bath. Once we finished the float the barefoot-dreadlocks- facial-pierced-crazy-eyed-hippie at the rafting joint told us to take the trolley back to the location of our car. We wanted to wait while King Ralph took the trolley since the girls were in their bikini's but he convinced us that the trolley stop was just "right there". Right there was not "right there". The girls traipsed some near mile down a busy road with boys howling and whistling at them, me laughing so hard I was peeing my pants only to have the trolley conductor tell us "no bikinis on the trolley". Dam that hippie and King Ralph for doing that to us. The thing about family vacations is that it forever imprints moments of great laughter on us--and this was one of those.

Once we got cleaned up we headed into the historic area of Durango for the Fourth of July parade of promoting politicians (thank you Tiffany Lee for the vote for me chapstick), listened to the band playing for the street dance and ate at a fun Mexican restaurant with great salsa and strong margaritas. We bought candy treats from a chocolate shop for dessert before finding a curb to perch upon for the firework display. Great fireworks Durango! Some of the biggest fireworks I have ever seen and several that shot all the way to Mars before blasting an umbrella of colors that engulfed the sky.
(See the American flags in the hands of M & Princess A?...the say "Made in China". What the heck is our country come to when we can't even wave our flag produced in our own country when celebrating our independence?)

Thanks Silverton & Durango for your hospitality we had a great time.

Next stop Mesa Verde.

Arches National Park

So none of you were up to the "Just a Tease" challenge...afraid of a failed guess?

The answer: Arches National Park in Moab, Utah

King Ralph and I didn't tell the girls our plan--, just to hop in the car with hiking gear. With Arches only 171 miles from the Black Canyon it seemed crazy not to live on the side of spontinaity and go for a bit of unplanned adventure. I needed to hike more to keep my strained muscles warm and moving from the strenous canyon hike and Arches seemed like the place to do that. We packed a picnic lunch and off we went for the day.

Arches National Park is a place I have always wanted to visit. I was so glad we decided to go, not knowing if we would ever be out that way again. Boy was it hot there! Dry, desert heat. For a girl, a family, who lives with high humidity at 300 feet above sea level; we could feel our skin screaming for the morning dew that usually rest on ground and not the dry oppressive heat at an elevation of 5700 feet that had us all guzzling water. However that feeling of the heat disappeared when we looked at the spectacular beauty of the sandstone arch formations--Ancient Sand Dunes, Windows, Landscape, Double Arch....




Another national park add to our list. Another great and fun family vacation day!

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park

We woke on the morning of June 30th to take our last coin operated 7-minute shower (which you have no idea how long 7 minutes can be; a longggg time) before we headed up higher into the mountains to a semi primitive world. Sure we had electric, a definite bonus for using a heater at night...but no running water, flush toilets or showers. Who could complain when nature's surround was spectacular!

As we headed up the mountain we passed through the Gunnison and San Isabel National Forests and crested at the Monarch Pass Continental Divide-- 11,312 feet. Burrrr it was cold, majestic and a great potty stop. I believe at this point we have crossed five continental divides in our travels over the years.

We arrived at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park; our nation's newest park to the national park system. One of the national parks that I don't think gets the visitorship that it deserves. A canyon of huge proportion and beauty. (this photo was self timed and Princess A bolted across the road before it took)

When we checked out the visitor center the ranger offered D a chance to earn her Junior Ranger badge. The challenge came with not the usual plastic ranger badge but a glow in the dark patch. This Junior Ranger program was the "Night Explorer". Princess A and M upon hearing of D's invitation to earn the prestigious badge read that it was available to those "10 and up". BINGO! That meant a 20-year old and a 17-year old were geared up to be part of the "dark wars" too. We attended Ranger Randy's--a man of serious dry humor-- program and learned lots about the night sky and that we "are all made of star dust". Before we left the park for our next destination the girls met Irm, a volunteer ranger, who not only graded their Jr. Ranger booklet thoroughly; she did a fantastic swearing in ceremony. Here you have it three "Night Explorers" of the Black Canyons of the Gunnison National Park.

As hiking is always in some way a part of our national park vacations we decided to try a more difficult hike-- a canyon hike. Yes-sir-ree, one mile down with an incline of 1800 feet. I acquired the necessary permit, we all got the explanation speech of the hike and were informed that some say it is harder and more difficult than hiking one of the many fourteeners in Colorado. I figured we tackled Pike's Peak so we could do this. Ha! Well Ha! for me. The rule was if one in the group felt they needed to turn back it meant the whole group had to turn back. I don't know how many times I used the phrase "I'm sorry", but apparently enough times that King Ralph told me to stop apologizing. You do feel bad when everyone else feels capable and you don't. However my muscles were giving out, the boulder fields began to feel more unstable under my footing and the idea of having to pull myself up that 80-foot metal link chain was haunting my thought of body weakness. The ranger asked me when I stopped if I still having fun and felt pleasure in making it 58% of the way down. I said yes, I stopped before it felt like misery. It was without a doubt the hardest, steepest, most challenging hike up I will have ever attempted. I can say that at the point I stopped I saw a most majestic and spiritual view of the Gunnison River emerging through the canyon walls feeling the mark of God's wonderful earthly creation. What was really cool as I took a break after climbing back up the 80-foot chain a mule deer saw the girls farther up the incline but not King Ralph and I, he got to us froze in shock of a human in arms reach, stood for a good twenty seconds and then bolted down that incline with lightening speed.

So we all went 2.5 days without a real shower; just boiled water for sponge baths, campfires and roasted marshmallows, singing songs together like we were the Gorneky's, dancing on the astro turf rug like we were in Saturday Night Fever, waiting and watching for that 18-month old male black bear roaming the campground to appear (which was always a miss for us)...in other words we had a great time in the Black Canyon connecting as family we are.

Just to Tease

Because sadly we have been chased by rain --and clouds so low they hide the mountains-- from our intended destination, The Great Sand Dunes National Park, to the Marriott Pueblo...I leave you with a picture to tease.For the first person who can name where we are gets a drink, purchased by me.

Royal Gorge Rapids and Bishop's Castle

Daily chores do not elude even when on the road; so I sit this morning in a laundry room hogging five machines. I guess when it is barley six o'clock it is hardly hogging, most sensible folk are still sleeping. But we are on the move again today, so it is a chore that is a priority. Also a good time to have some peace and blog.

Now I am sure you are wondering about our adventures....

On our second day in Canon City we took to the white waters of the Arkansas River. We have rafted the river before but not the Royal Gorge- Class V rapids. We agreed as a family after several white water experiences that we were ready to tackle the fast moving waters. D admitted to us and our guide to being a little scared but was ready for the challenge. We rafted the calmer rapids early in the day, stopped for a great lunch that the guides prepared for us and then back in the water were we warmed up a bit in preparation for the big Class V rapids. We tackled the rapid named "sunshine" fine...then let me give it to you in the words the guide gave D in case she has to write a "what I did on my summer vacation" paper...we were teeing up ready to make the bird bomb on the sledgehammer.... Okay this is the part in the adventure were we had to A. put all the safety talk into play B. let my mother's heart calm and follow those safety directions C. control King Ralph from his innate being to always be in emergency response mode--you can take the cop away from the job but can't take the cop out of him. As the raft hit the rapid known as sledgehammer I looked to the right side of the raft directly opposite D on the left side and watched my baby bounce up and over the raft. The guide screams calmly directions and for King Ralph to sit down, as he was ready to jump in and save his little girl from the rushing waters. Safety lesson number one is don't jump in after someone, then the guide is saving two. We are all yelling at King Ralph to follow the paddle commands: forward paddle, stop, back paddle stop, right side paddle forward, stop. All the while I see my baby in that rapid head up assuming the white water position and her eyes open wide as a saucer. D said her first instinct was to swim till she saw large rocks then remembering the safety talk she flipped to her back, arms stretched out to paddle. In those 40 seconds that felt like forever our guide Brady directed D back to the raft where he and King Ralph grabbed the shoulder straps of her life vest and pulled her back in. Her eyes remained saucers for a few more minutes. We paddled to the bank so everyone could calm the nerves. When D was asked if she felt the shock of the cold water as she went over board she said she felt nothing, only thing on her mind was to stay clear of the rocks. Woooshhhh smart thinking. Later she said she was praying the whole time in the boat to God to keep her in the boat and safe. I replied to her that God answered her prayer, maybe not the in the keep in the boat part but the safe part. Safe is answered in different ways--in this case being pulled safely from the rapids was the answer God gave.

And, in the end, D says she would raft the gorge again.

So assume we had a blast. We did. Have a blast.

Then it was onto a bit of roadside America. I had found Bishop's Castle on roadsideamerica.com before we left town, suggesting we visit and see this construction wonder for ourselves. After a drive through the San Isabel National Forest, which was absolutely beautiful, we came to a sea of cars lining the roadside and crazyville. Cra-zee-ville I tell you! Mr. Bishop's castle is two parts: one part construction marvel (no blue prints required just vision) and one part insane man. While I navigated the shady construction, at times questioning my safety...oh ya when you sign his guest book it is to stand as a waiver that you are basically agreeing if you fall through his rod iron welded balconies you won't sue (which I didn't sign since he was out of paper in his tablet and ink in his pen)...I decided I had to turn back. My fear of heights without safety boundaries came into play and I felt my heart beating. I had already had enough excitement for one day. The rest of the family ventured to the top scaling the shady construction job and rang the bell. As they scaled and explored the top portion of the castle I stood center castle on a wood plank floor listening to crazy man Mr. Bishop rant to visitors about our president and secretary of state. He used colorful language. Language that was unfit for young ears and offensive to grown ears. He has personally designed signs stating his political standings on paying taxes, the unlawful need for a driver's license, and my favorite was the signs that left the "r" and "d" off of Republican and Democrat and replaced with symbols. In the case of Republican the "r" was replaced with a swastaca. I may be a registered Republican but I ain't no Nazi! I promise you that, Mr. Bishop!! We strolled his gift shop which offered a sampling of mood rings and plastic Viking helmets...'cause every castle has a Viking (and every Viking ship has a princess).... Roadside America, gotta love'r.

And so ended June 29 and a wonderful stay in Canon City and the Royal View Campground.

Pause

Yesterday was a day full of adventures. Adventures that offer good stories. However I need photos to tell these stories of adventures and I had to much laundry to mess with anything else.

Be patient with me, because tomorrow we are going primitive. Well, we'll have electricity but that's it. No water-- we'll haul that in with us. No showers-- I'll prepare boiled hot water sponge bathing basins for the family at night after hiking. Hopefully we will enter into a world where there isn't a fire ban so we can sing silly songs while roasting marshmallows.

Until then....

(Feel free to be jealous, especially of the no available showers)

Driving the Gold Belt

Yesterday we took a narrarated driving tour of the Gold Belt, the old Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad. The CD we purchased from our campground was a great history lesson.

Here is some of what we saw.

The narrow gauge
The old mines in Victor

A view from the top looking down at Cripple Creek

Off now for a great day of adventure and our last here in Canon City.

Dorothy We Aren't in Kansas

I sit here watching the sun rise over the Royal Gorge Bridge, which I see clearly in the distance from my camp site here at the Royalview Campground. There is a chill in the air that is so welcomed after Saturday's St. Louis departure humidity and Kansas 104* pit stop.

Let's chat a bit about that ride into Kansas.

You know how when you drive down the highway there is always road signs alerting to up coming historical sights that are begging travelers to break from the highway, pause and visit? In true Lampoons Vacation style I suggested we stop at the Oz Museum--really why not, we were in Kansas. I had visions of bright colors, munchkins and yellow brick roads while music played and we sang along "we're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz". Well, twenty-eight bucks later (and that was a triple A and a college ID discount)...it failed to live up to any of our expectations; although I am told it isn't at the level of my taking the family to Windmill Island in Holland, MI. Because of our disappointment I refused to drop another dollar at Toto's Tacos. Truly a roadside America stop to a not so exciting museum in a quaint little Kansas town--with one stop light.

Next stop the world's biggest ball of string.

Kidding.

After an overnight in Salina, Kansas at a nice little KOA--where we practiced our rhythm of popping up the camper as a family in sinc, like a well oiled machine, impressing people that we can have her up as fast as David Copperfield can wow folks with a magic trick. Then we had dinner at a Mexican restaurant; the only one in the US that does not serve margaritas--so wrong and then the weary travelers rested.

Next thing you know we have our feet planted on ground of Colorado, were the air is cool and the sun shines. Bummer is here in Canon City they had a wild fire so we can't BBQ or have camp fires due to a temporary city ban. Of course most everything we have to eat is needed to be prepared over hot coals. So the marshmallows rest in the bag unopened.

Today we wake ready to explore.

Let's Go Camping

Tracey reminded me it's a great day to camp.

I have been crazy busy packing up the box to the left with everything but the kitchen sink...well, cause, there is already a sink in that box. You know this box:

(box looks the same, the kids though have grown and matured since this photo)

Then we'll pop that box up and out and have us a Great American Backyard Campout; except in someone else backyard.

Anyone else up for camping?

Friendtastic

This month has been friendtastic. First my BFF surprises me with a mid-week knock at my door. The BFF lives in Chicago. Then my good friend from San Francisco comes to town and we meet for coffee drinks, chat and chat while the rain poured down outside--we chatted the rain away. Today I breaked from moving everything we own to the box to the left to hang with my friend from high school, who was our class foreign exchange student from Mexico, and now lives in Rome, Italy; came back to St. Louis for a visit. I invited our other good friend over to the house and we ate lunch and caught up on our lives in person. Real conversation, not emails and instant message chats. Oh course a photo to mark the moment.

Then while we continued to move everything to the box to the left; the moment D has been waiting for came early. Her bestie who moved to Massachusetts last summer arrived in town 5 hours earlier than expected. The squeal of three friends greeting the bestie "home", becoming four, could have been heard for miles. I was flashed back to many years of the girls' booming voices when they converged in our basement . A boom that lit my heart for friends separated now by distance but not by heart. Oh course a photo to mark this moment too.

Like I said a friendtastic month!

Preparations

There has been a sudden change in temperatures around town. It won't last long but long enough for me to escape town to a cooler region.

So with that said I am busy today; and the directions I sing sound like this:
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
Everything you own in the box to the left.

Hot Summer

Every time I step one foot outside I think Charlie Daniels Band will be waiting to fiddle me the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"...unfortunately the devil is stuck in Saint Louis; although I am wishing him down to Georgia, or down to anywhere but here. Oppressive heat suffocates us here. Gatorade is replacing milk at meals. Pool water that is suppose to fell refreshing is more kin to bath water. And the dog has canceled her summer track season. Now you know it is hot when Uli chooses to lay all day on the ceramic tile floor of the "red room" opposed to kicking up dirt while sprinting the yard.

Hot I tell you. Hot!

All this heat drags a person. While I am getting things completed, I am not getting everything completed. That means one thing: rushing around in the days to come. I am churning the wash machine as fast I can. I have a few floors yet to mop and toilets to scrub. In between I run this kid here and that kid there. All the while an alarm clock ticks in my head reminding me I'm on a time line.

The alarm clock is set to go off on Saturday morning at 9am. I can hardly wait!

Good-bye Summer Playhouse We Enjoyed You For The While

I was shaken from my slumber this morning from a dream that had back ground music; and the song was Gary, Indiana.

Summer. It seems to have us moving more than during the school year. As one obligation ends another begins.

After chiseling off five days of hair spray over spray off my skin and wood floor from curling D's hair in spiral curls that needed to hold through a performance in the dreadful St. Louis humidity and mopping up eye shadow residue; the curtain on Whitecliff Summer Playhouse [in the park] The Music Man has come down. The stage is silent--for a while.




Life in the house paused from the clock's summons today; I so needed the break from rushing and late nights. So, the house got scrubbed. Smile.

The pause is short lived as we are about to begin a regiment of color guard.

Sigh. I was liking the pause in the calender and the chiming of the clock's alarm.

But alas, it's about the girls and treasured memories.

A Father's Day Tribute

Imatating the likeness of a dad like King Ralph can be hard but, with a Flip Video it makes creative juices flow. I believe the girls did a pretty good job capturing their daddy in some of his more memorable, I mean unforgettable, moments--in this Father's Day tribute. These moments are the reason they laugh and love him. It was the gift wrap that required no fancy paper or tape.

Happy Father's Day King Ralph!

The Best Alarm Clock Is Sunshine on Chrome

I woke this morning at 445am, crawled out of bed at 5am to a liking of Tim Allen in Wild Hogs. There stood my man in his blue jeans, rustic orange Harley T-shirt (that he bought in San Juan over spring break, because it seems he collects Harley shirts like old ladies collect spoons on vacations), the black riding boots and...a doo rag. Oh-my-gosh what a sight! Then I went to move the car to the street so he could get the hog out of the garage and I felt rain.

Then the next layer appeared.

A rain suit.

I thought he owned a rain suit for fishing but, it turns out that when I close my eyes something new--and needed-- appears. Necessaries. Of course. Like the special underwear he bought yesterday for twenty bucks. I don't even own a pair of twenty dollar underwear. Good thing the dog only has a taste for the female undies. These golden undies are made specially for riding; I take it from the looks that the fabric is more breathable. Underwear are underwear to me. Wear a few holes in a pair of Fruit of the Looms and wa-la, breathable panties. Or better yet, stop riding, stand-up and let air circulate around saddle bound seat. There was also a special waterproof sissy bar bag (known to us females as luggage). Next there was the speakers he purchased and mounted to the handle bars to which he can play his iPod through...music, wind in the face, new luggage and fancy panties down a country highway what more can a man desire?

At 830am King Ralph woke his family with a text message picture of all the guys' Harley's resting at the gas station. D was less than impressed as she was in a sound slumber. M shakes her head and I just giggle; forwarding the message to the cousin's wife. Princess A shared some wise cracks with the gals from work which also had her doctor boss inquiring.

In the mean time I am tracking the trip through the bank. I can see how far they have traveled by where the debit card says the boys fueled.

Then we think the trip has met its high by traveling the highways and byways we get a final text picture message of Frank from the History Channel's American Pickers. Seems that King Ralph and his cousin noticed the American Pickers boys in the hotel. Next thing they know they are buying one of them a beer and chatting up a storm about the old bikes they uncover when "picking".

The girls gave King Ralph a Flip Video camera for Father's Day to record his trip and the guys attempt to mimic the Wild Hogs movie.

So while the gang of guys stretch out the celebration of fatherhood I am left home tending to a full calendar of band trivia night, band car washes, four days of summer community theater performances, dishes, laundry....

Only Bikers Know Why Dogs Stick Their Heads Out of Car Windows

I did something I swore to the good Lord above I would never do-- in order to preserve the life of one parent; ride on King Ralph's motorcycle. It was all the King really wanted for an anniversary present. So I obliged. I put on the helmet he specially bought for me, which is a cross between looking like a Storm Trooper and Transformer. Of course a gal like me cannot saddle up on a Harley without the offspring rushing out with cameras to record the moment for all time. When I first started on the ride I felt like I was on a roller coaster without a safety bar. It was kin to my fear of heights with no security boundaries. I laced my fingers through King Ralph's belt loops and locked them to my palms till the hands were purple and numb with finger nail indentations. To ease matters I stared at the back of a helmet that said "skid lid." Then suddenly when I least expected it I fell right into a comfort zone--placed my hands on my lap and let the wind hit my face as we cruised down the country roads. In front of us were King Ralph's cousin and his wife. We stopped at a wine bar that over looked the Mississippi River sat on the patio watching the Cardinal game on the outdoor screen, ate and sipped wine. Well, I sipped wine.

Next thing I know King Ralph decides he and I, along with the cousin couple are a little motorcycle gang. Another scheduled excursion for us four the following weekend was planned. There we sat on the patio of the Montelle Winery all of us sipping blackberry wine, listening to my co-worker's hubby's band sing to us on a beautiful May 30 evening.

Now this motorcycle loving brainwash needs to stop because I found myself on the back of King Ralph's bitch again heading to his sister's to swim. If my offspring weren't bad enough with cameras, my sister-in-law had to snap photos for herself as we headed home.


As Father's Day approaches the cousin-in-law and I are sending our men on a real life Wild Hogs trip. A trip like this does not welcome the wives. To which I believe deserves an--Amen!

Hello Summer You and I are About to Meet Again

Tomorrow is the last day of school...I mean work. I can hardly contain my excitement. And, it's a holiday weekend. So I've got plans that will keep me from this keyboard.

I plan to hang with my BWFs and sip cocktails and toast what was a great school year--after the bell rings and we all wave good-bye to the buses.

I plan to BBQ and swim with family on Saturday. Because working on that summer tan and eating foods cooked on an open flame is the best way to start off the summer.

I plan to celebrate twenty-three years of wedded bliss to King Ralph on Sunday at a winery that over looks the Mississippi River. While I sip my wine I will be listening to my co-worker's hubby's band play.

I plan on Monday to celebrate the silencing of the alarm clocks and sleep till my body says it wants to wake.

Then I'll be back on Tuesday.

Till then....

My Day of Lasts

It seems like I blink and the days of firsts become the days of lasts. I stand in the middle of the kitchen screaming AMEN!, as I pack the last lunches of the school year. I have a break from the worry of do I have enough sandwich baggies.

Three more days. Just three more days.

For me those three days are full days, for the girls short days. Short days filled with stressful test taking. M is a more relaxed teenager than D haven taken three AP test a few weeks back. To which I really holler an AMEN! because I am not sure I could have handled much more of M's stress level at that point.

Today also marks D's last piano lesson with her (and Princess A's) long time music teacher. I have been scurrying across town for nine years to make lessons on time, giggling at there rewards of a single Pez for a lesson well performed and staring at the giant pine tree suited for a Rockefeller Center Christmas tree [that consumes the entire front yard] for nine years and today...today that all ends. Bitter sweet. Fear not the piano will not be silenced as we meet a new teacher next week.

So I say...good-bye school lunches, till we meet again. Good-bye Mrs. Johnson, may the silencing of the piano in your home and idle parents parked at your curb bring you a joyful retirement and mostly in honor of the kids, good-bye 6th hour, may your finals' questions be kind and easy.

Opening Day

The next best thing to opening day at the ballpark is opening day at the drive-in-- Skyview Drive-in.

We like to treat the drive-in like it is our dinner theater. We opt for a more gourmet pallet of pre-show foods. Sure we have the standard fare of M&Ms, Mike & Ike's, Raisinettes and popcorn when the sunsets, but....we like to start things off with a meal that turns heads green with envy. For this opening day we had a menu of teriyaki pork tenderloin, hash brown casserole, Zia's salad and bakery bread.

Now we still relish in the scents that make the drive-in the drive-in--concession stand grease, bathrooms that have lines as long as Texas is wide (that sometimes can't keep flush up with the patrons needs) and the smell of wet gravel road dust; which is drowning in years of mystery scents. All the things that make the drive-in feel like going home again.

So I present to you: "how we roll"

The Klopeks Unveiled

The evening air has a feeling of a summer family camping vacation, warm but with a cool slight breeze-- the kind of cool breeze that welcomes a camp fire and a cocktail. This comes on the heel of a rather hot spring afternoon.

While no fire is blazing I took to the deck for a Cinco de Mayo celebration for uno. Just me, my margarita and my book. The peace and tranquility it offers is a nice ending to a busy work and mom day.

And.

The view of the Klopek house is even more alluring with a margarita glass in my hand. Maybe the fact that the landlord and an accompanying neighbor made an inside visit to the mysterious closed up house yesterday makes it more bewitching to stare. Since I am the farthest thing from a Mrs. Kravitz I miss out on all the sudden dramatic events that happen footsteps from my front door. I am told there was a screaming match as the landlord defended herself from the harsh words of the Klopek.

While no illegal activity was spotted we aren't ruling out that there may still possibly be a little girl tided up under the mountain of crap that lines the walls to ceiling and floors of the house. Who knows there is probably a lone pot plant in there vying for sunlight. No furniture was spotted except for a trundle bed that the little Klopek sleeps on. It is noted that the poor kid didn't even have sheets on his bed. There is no couch. There is no kitchen table. Which in all honesty I would think nothing of that if it weren't for the fact that there probably isn't basic furniture pieces in the house due in part there is no room for it amongst the crates of crap. I guess one would say it is an episode for A & E's Hoarders. Nicey Nash wouldn't want them, there is nothing to sell in a yard sale. My favorite is the collection of trash bags the Klopeks had lining the backyard. Clever hoarder he is brought in a small trailer with high plywood sides, loaded the trash bags to the top in that ghetto rig to hide them. Really?! How about paying for a once a week curbside trash pick up? Last week he ran out of gas (I think) for his mower and the back yard looked like an alien ship landed. You know like a crop circle, except not as detailed and artistic as a martian can make. I would place a bet that a martian did land, walked in the house realized the single path way through was to narrow for his beefy martain physique, scared to death at the sight of what earth presented, trail blazed it back to his ship high tailing it back to Mars. Yesterday the landlord sent in a landscaping company to cut the yard properly.

You know my dead azaleas in my front planter are looking better and better to the neighborhood.

There you have it...the Klopeks exposed. They are genuine hoarders!

Project Runway

As I have spent a week scampering around a bolt of black "watered" moray taffeta, shreds of cream cotton jersey knit, thread trimmings and straight pins with yellow flower heads...I realized tonight it was, is worth it.

Tonight the high school hosted there own version of Project Runway. We sat in the front row in front of the stage--feeling like we had those seats only the A-List celebs get at the runway shows. The fashion show music was spun by a beloved high school classmate with a flare and knack for disc jockeying. The fashion creations...well, most good, some great construction while others bordered on the line of loving hands from home and tranny mess. The kind of tranny mess that would give Michel Koors and Heidi Klum nightmares for years and put Nina Garcia into a coma. Still it was all about the teens trying there hand at a craft that has fallen by the way side but is slowly making its way back in the world of desired skill/talent--sewing.

So my little (tall) fashionista decided after years of stitching her own clothes she was ready to let the world judge her talent.

With a bolt of fabric M got from her grandmother she designed an adorable fun short and flirty skirt. A skirt with a high waist and a thick elastic waste band. M paired it with an off the shoulder T embellished with brushed gold chains that picked up the gold dual zippers that accented each side of the skirt. No pattern needed. Just a creative mind along with the desire and skill to work the Singer.

After the girls all strutted down the runway and the judges took a good look at each entry's construction up close, the winners were announced.

M won first place in the casual category.

Who knows maybe one day M will hear Tim Gunn saying to her "carry on carry on."

Those Forgotten April Holidays

Those forgotten April holidays and I am not just talking April Fools Day, which by the way I seem to forget every year.

I was sitting at my desk yesterday working and listening to the radio when the DJ announced it was "remember your first kiss day." I stopped and let my mind wander back to my freshman year when Jim Clark kissed me in the courtyard of the commons area during a hanger dance. At the time he was the buff jock who made good grades and I was the new girl in school. When the BWFs got back in the office I asked who was their first kiss? Then we started asking everyone who came through the office. There were some good stories of kisses in the back row of the movie theater and kisses in the fifth grade on the playground that got the school hot under the collar. There were some disturbing stories of kisses had way to young. We all remembered that first kiss. We did our part well in celebrating this forgotten gone by the wayside holiday. The laughter we had in our moment of reminiscing made the day.

So then I got to thinking, what other holidays in this month of April are we missing out on?

Not to let "remember your first kiss day" get all the glory this month how about we celebrate these gems as well. Join me in entertaining ourselves this week. Take special notice that today is "Tell a Story Day." The gals and I at work shouldn't have much trouble with this day since we all we love to tell stories.

Do take notice that "National Hairball Awareness Day" takes up two days this
week--Tuesday and Friday, or is that a typo? I think the hairball just doesn't get the respect it deserves. I'm expecting poems from all of you on Wednesday and I suppose you'll find some dancing in our little office on Thursday and, well, us all appreciating great hairstyles on Friday. . And, since it is honesty day if my hair looks like shit I'm expecting those who pass me to tell me. We will celebrate the week's end with a handful of raisins-- the healthy snack that is a good source of iron.

So here you have it, a list of the week's forgotten holidays:
April 26th
Pretzel Day
Hug an Australian Day
Hug a Friend Day
Remember Your First Kiss Day

April 27th
Babe Ruth Day
Tell a Story Day
National Hairball Awareness Day
National Prime Rib Day

April 28th
Kiss Your Mate Day
Great Poetry Reading Day
National Bulldogs are Beautiful Day

April 29th
Shrimp Scampi Day
Dance Day
Zipper Day

April 30th
Honesty Day
Hairstyle Appreciation Day
National Raisin Day
Arbor Day (Always the last Friday in April)
National Hairball Awareness Day (Always the last Friday in April)

Well I should part here, have to stop by the store for some Baby Ruth candy bars to celebrate The Great Bambino's day.

I Think My Neighbor May Be Related to the Klopek's

Remember the Tom Hanks movie The Burbs?

Next door to me is a rental house that mimics the Klopek's. Never mind it is clearly outlined in the subdivision by-laws that no home can be rental property. We try to forget that the landlord who should know better lives four houses up the street. It doesn't, well didn't-- before landlord left this earth from sudden death-- much matter that not only us but the young couple on the other side of the rental house had moaned calmly our disgust.

The house is creepy! Every single window is blinded down tight...never breaching to catch a ray of sunshine. Never does a light bulb gleam in the dark hours. There is a movie camera in the front window capturing who-knows-what because we never see anyone come for a visit...or to mow grass or shovel snow. There is no trash service scheduled over there. Instead the trash is collected in black yard bags, piled in the back of a primered-unplated-tireless-pretty-much-dilapidated-going-nowhere pick-up truck. We affectionately refer to the "renters" as "the vampires". Because who else lives in such mysterious darkness, than a vampire? Once the vampire was three months behind on the rent and in the eleventh hour saved himself by presenting the landlord with nearly four grand in cash. CASH! Who pays rent, late rent, with a large wad of cash? We all have our own ideas. Most on the same path of thought.

Saturday M and I along with our neighbor and her three-old twins had our own Ray Peterson moment. You see the Vampire and his baby vampire (who does emerge for trips to the bus stop but never utters a word) was rumored to be out of town. As we all stood there chatting about the vampires my neighbor said we had to see what she has to look at out her windows. What I no longer can see since the magnolia tree sprung its spring look. So we all strated to make our way over when the video camera was brought up,; "hell I don't care about that camera" as I danced for it-- in case it was recording. Wait, the constant blue light shining is signal it is always in record mode. Then we trudged up the driveway to see rows of trash bags, guts of a car interior and tires all strewn andheaped around two beater cars. M then says "I see a crack in the window I'm going to peek." Our neighbor says "careful there may be a little girl tied up in there." We all laughed by the humorous comment when really who knows what goes on in there. Then one of the twins squeaks that she wants to look, her mom replies "no honey there are drugs in there." We all giggle again. Then we strolled back home without really uncovering much substance to our wonderings.

What is in there? Or goes on in there?

Time can only tell.

Time is going to tell sooner than later. You see landlord's estranged wife is now the keeper of the keys to his kingdom. She too thinks the place is a bit on the creepy Klopek side. She has scheduled a walk through to access things... well she wanted it this past week when the vampire so curiously had to go out of town. Curious, huh? Well those of us who book end the Klopek like house believe so.

So I guess until then we all sit back staring at the drawn blinds on the dark house with its landfill building in the backyard while a video camera records us walking the sidewalk as we all wonder what is going on and what is inside there.

I live next door to a Klopek. And, we are all turning into Ray Peterson and his friends.

Lost and Found

I spent an hour this afternoon looking for my vacuum. Really a vacuum doesn't just up and disappear inside a house. It was aggravating me to no end. Then I got M looking with me. I looked in all the usual possible places; laundry room, storage room, front foyer closet. She in the not so usual places; sump pump closest under the stairs, linen closet, her room.

No luck.

Called King Ralph to ask if he know.

No luck.

Then I looked in M's room one more time myself. B-I-N-G-O.

It is a sure sign your kid's room is a real pit, hell hole, dump.... when you lose the vacuum in the room.

Enough said!

On second thought...MAVERY CLEAN YOUR ROOM TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!! OR ELSE.

Conversations With the King

In the past week the spousal unit, King Ralph, and I have had some memorable conversations.

Conversation One

Me: Ummm your bitch sure likes to shop.

King Ralph: What do you mean?

Me: Well you left your email up and I saw she bought herself some new fenders.

KR: Oh gosh I spent $50

Me: I don't care what you spent. I'm just saying she shops more than your wife.

KR: I haven't bought anything for "the bitch" in a long time.

Me: Since last spring. And. She is getting a new coat (paint job). The bitch is getting, like, a new spring wardrobe. Just saying.


Conversation Two
ring ring goes the cell phone


KR: I just wanted to let you know M was with my at the Murphy's and she got pale and her eye starting rolling back and well she started to go down, but I caught her.

Then there was the long detailed story of how he reacted with his skilled emergency response training, yada, yada, yada.

KR: and I am taking over to the firehouse to have the guys check her out.

Me: Let me know if she checks out okay. I'll call the doctor in the morning.

Conversation Three

Me: M passed out while she was sitting getting her blood drawn.

KR: Is she okay?

Me: Lucky me had an orange in my purse that I didn't eat for my lunch. I peeled it and made her eat it. We stayed for 20 minutes then came home instead of heading right to school. I fed her a heartier breakfast than what I had in the car, then onto school. Think I should call the doctor to alert them of this episode?

KR: YA!

Epilogue

King Ralph's bitch (aka as his mistress aka Harley aka as "that motorcycle") got a new paint job. In my opinion she went from her vintage look to looking like any other bike on the rode. While her fender thing-a-ma-jigs are, well, something similar to the old thing-a-ma-jigs...maybe a bit shinier.

M's been diagnosed as anemic pops pills everyday and looks forward to the impending constipation that added iron will bring to her life. On the scale of life constipation seems like a better deal than passing out and being dizzy all the time.

O Dark Thirty Hours

The title represents the ridiculous hour in which I have to make more of those Godforsaken bandwiches tomorrow.

It's not the fund raiser that gets to me it's the O dark thirty hour call time!

Don't worry I am going to start peddling the trivia night fund raiser (with the open bar) really soon. No I am going to start begging you all to form a team and buy a table from us.

The Reason I Still Buy Jelly Beans

I had planned on skipping a beat with Easter this year...not buying baskets of candy, instead slipping a gift card or cash to the girls. When I mentioned this to King Ralph...there is always a corn field in my house, and one of many ears caught wind of my comment and moans "Princess A still got a basket of candy when she was a Freshman in high school!" So I revamped my original thought bought a sprinkling of candies and other goodies (flip flops and fun tanks), slipped a wee bit of cash into a plastic egg for each and did the traditional bunny baskets. Except I didn't hide them this year. I figure basket hunting time was better spent straightening and teasing those bumps they all like to wear in there hair.

After a feast of honey glazed ham, Kari's Egg-cellent Egg Casserole, hash brown casserole, blueberry muffins, strawberry short cakes and mimosas (for the 20 and over crowd) I snapped a picture of my babies to remember why it is-- I still buy and eat jelly beans.