W.U.S.S.

This is what my hair cut looks like. One thing I was not wussy about was NO bangs. So I spent the better part of today brushing my hair out of my eyes. (You don't even want to know what the other part of my day was like!). So the STP and Booger are watching Lord of the Rings tonight. And as I walk through the room I realize that my hair is styled just like Aragorn's. Evidently I conveyed to the stylist that the movie star look I was going for was an elfin (elven?) creature from Modor.

FYI--I tried several ways to spell woose. I tried to make it rhyme with something. Goose. Pus. Cuss. Foos-ball. Moose. Mouse. Tush.

FYII--(FYI2?)--The reason the Thursday night movie is Lord of the Rings is because we had taters for supper.

Booger: What we need is a few good taters.
STP: What's taters Precious. What's taters eh?
Booger: PO-TA-TOES! Boil 'em. Mash 'em. Stick 'em in a stew!

Ours were actually done in foil on our new Weber grill. Yeah for cooking outdoors in sub-freezing weather.

Haircut Day

I had an appointment on Monday afternoon to get my haircut. But my stylist called and said she couldn't lift her arms over her head for a day and a half. (?) I offered to kneel on the ground, but instead we rescheduled for this afternoon. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I am a complete woose about things like this. And I had a hard time trying to describe what I wanted.
Last week the STP suggested I watch an episode of What Not To Wear. I don't care to think why. (I've been wearing my hair in a pony tail and really bad outfits around Dodge City this week, just in case he nominated me for the show and someone is following me around with a hidden camera.) But now I know what I need. $5,ooo and a week in New York. I'll take the stylist and the make-up lady, but I won't even need the services of the other two to insult and make fun of my current clothes and help me pick my new ones. (I've got people in New York who could do that for me.) What I need is someone to come here to Dodge City and use my budget and shop in the places I have to shop. That would be reality TV. Here is a shot of me walking into the thrift store. And the Western wear store. Dark jeans that drop straight down from my hips. (See me following 'the rules'?) Here I am trying on cowgirl boots and big silver belt buckles. Wait, we still have 45 minutes and $4500? Lets just head down to the Sugar Shack and have a milkshake.
So when my haircut was done and I put my glasses back on and the stylist asked if I liked it, I wasn't really sure. And I had no idea what I would want her to do with it. But it wasn't the amazing transformation I was hoping for. So I just said I would wear it around for a day or two and decide. I think I'll sleep on it.

The School Dance

The Booger thought he would go to the school dance this evening. So his Dad took him and dropped him off at the school gym. (Maybe I did drive my car off a cliff and I am now in an alternate universe.) Until supper time I did not know there was a school dance. He was gone from the house about an hour and a half. He called to be picked up at 9:00 because he wanted to watch Superman and the Clone Wars on the Cartoon Channel. I didn't even ask how the dance was. Or if he actually danced. He brought me a diet Pepsi. Obviously, I am still the most important woman in his life. I'm okay with that.

Woot, Woot!

Guess whose federal AND state taxes are submitted AND accepted. Oh, yeah!

Still Thinking...

...about doing the taxes.
...about what my dreams mean. (The recurring ones where my car ends up in a body of water.)
...about what to make for supper tomorrow.
...about what to plant in the flower boxes.
...about flat rocks.
...about buying new underwear.
...about being a good mom.
...about the price of gas.
...about the meaning of life.
...about going to bed.

High Rollers

Just a little rant today about people who roll their own coins as opposed to bringing them in in bulk and letting the bank machine count them. Please don't come to my window. I do not want to be short a penny in each roll. If you think you can just roll 49 pennies in a roll and not get caught that is fine with me. Think whatever you want. But it is stealing!! It is a sin! But if you are willing to sell your soul to the devil for 8 cents go right ahead. It doesn't sound like a good deal to me. But then again maybe you know yourself better than I do.
God only knows why this bothers me today. Maybe because it reminds me of the little 'compromises' I am willing to make. The tiny things I am willing to overlook in my own life. The thoughts I think cause I think no one will ever know. Only God knows.
Ouch!

Too Much Fun-gi

I just love a good fungus. I thought these were especially good fun.

Maybe people in Wyoming are happy because they are easily amused.

Spring is Coming

The flowerboxes are finished and on the front porch awaiting some dirt. And some seeds. And some water. And the Dodge City Town Council voted last week to allow outside watering EVERY DAY this summer instead of the Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday on the southside of town and Monday, Wednesday, Saturday on the north side of town. So now I don't have to keep track of what side of town I live on or what day of the week it is. If I want to water, I can. Except between the hours of noon and 6pm. Because the Dodge City Police Department needs something to patrol in the hot afternoon hours when they are not pulling over speeders.

FYI- I live on the south side of town. One of the Goober's friends told me that Hispanic people who leave their doors open and play their music really loud live on the south side of town. (He lives on the north side of town.) He said this because I was playing my music really loud. I can hardly wait for Summer when I can open the windows and the doors. Ole!

Dress Down Friday

The STP attended the Dodge City School Board meeting one evening this week. It is televised live on the local community station (I'm thinking that this might be common, but as recent subscriber to cable TV, it is a reality TV novelty to me.) So, while sitting on the couch with Goober, remote in hand, watching "The Biggest Loser" (at least I wasn't eating at the same time), I switched over to local channel to see if we could see the STP. As a quiet observer he wasn't getting any camera time, so the Goob said "Let's call his cell phone." Which was such a great idea, but I refrained only because I am trying to set a good example for my son. If I had been with Sara or Ami I totally would have done it. (If I was watching with Min, she would have called before I knew what she was doing and we would have laughed so hard we wouldn't have been able to talk.) But I digress--we didn't actually call and he had his phone on vibrate anyway.
One of the issues at the school board meeting came up when a mom raised the question about changes in the parent/student handbook. The superintendent responded in such a way that it was obvious she knew where this was going. It seems some 5th grade girls received in school suspensions for wearing pajama pants to school. There was no rule against this in the printed handbook, but online a 13th rule had been added concerning not wearing pajama pants, tops, or slippers to school. A meeting on the issue with the principal and the superintendent did not satisfy this mom, so she came to the board meeting to revisit the issue. This made the superintendent unhappy (I think she might originally be from Ohio or West Virginia). I, a call-the-school-mom from days gone by, was cheering on the mom. If I had known about this beforehand, I might have attended the school board meeting in my pajamas just to demonstrate my support. No one could say when, why, or by whom the 13th rule was added.
Hats are also against the school dress code. But in the Fall, if you paid $1, you could wear a hat on 'Hat Day'. Part of drug prevention week.

Seems that we are teaching that the rules are subject to not only interpretation, but also change, by those in authority. And that if you have a certain amount of money, the rules don't apply at all. Might makes right?

Today is Friday. So if I pay $2 I can wear my jeans to work at Dodge City Federal. The money goes to a benevolent fund for use around Christmastime. Wearing jeans is inappropriate for counting money any other day of the week.

I miss my scrubs. Healthcare--a place where pajama pants with drawstrings are appropriate every day. Maybe I could speak at the 5th grade career day.

State of Happiness

If you're from Ohio or New York--don't read this post. (I don't want you to feel worse than you already do.)
According to a recent poll, I live in the third most happy state in the entire United States. Right after Hawaii. That makes me so happy. In fact, the level of my happiness over this news just might move the state of Wyoming ahead of Hawaii on the list.
(I'm so happy right now , I should live in Utah.)

Treasury Secretary?

I still have a job in the financial industry. I don't want to do my taxes. And I certainly don't want to pay my taxes. Could I be destined to be in the president's cabinet?
Or should I just fire up the Turbo Tax and finish my taxes? And empty the dishwasher and put my dishes away in my kitchen cabinets?
I think I need to think about it another day or two.

Saving Daylight

Today I went to the Dodge City Building Center with the STP. And I took along my materials list for my new planter boxes for the front porch. And I talked the DCBC into delivering my materials free of charge. (Of course it is just across the street). And the STP measured and cut and drilled and fastened. And one box is far enough along that I could carry it to the front porch and try it on. And then the STP and the Goober had to go shoot guns. And now they are pursuing their favorite of Father/Son activities. Watching a movie. If only the day was an hour longer, instead of an hour shorter.
But I am going to soak my feet and browse through my idea file and decide what wonderful things I will plant in my new planter boxes. And I will imagine that they will all grow and flourish and be the envy of everyone who drives through Dodge City all summer long.
In other news, the snow is completely melted from the backyard. The Goober cleaned up a winter's worth of dog poo.
I just read the book Outliers. I don't think it will make me any more successful, but now I understand why I am not a professional athlete and why I can not play the piano.
Now I am just trying to figure out when we used to start saving daylight so I can be prepared for the dreaded automatic changing of the clock.
If I could save time in a bottle...

Ratatouille-With Emphasis on the Oooey

For the past ten days we have been eating vegetables and drinking only water ala Daniel in Babylon. It is a lenten experience of sorts. A few years ago the Goober discovered Lent and we participated by giving up TV and video games. Since then the Goober has done a little more research and decided that he could not find a single reference in the Bible of anyone giving up TV (and we have added the HDTV and a Wii which would need giving up). So instead the STP and Goober decided to give up a food related item. And that led to eating like Daniel. So our diet consists of things that grow in the ground. Fruits, Vegetables, and Grains. Rice, potatoes, oatmeal, salads, banana sandwiches--all good. Meat, eggs, milk, milk chocolate, and diet Pepsi--not on the menu. This makes cooking a real challenge, since the STP is gluten-free, and the Goober hasn't eaten a vegetable since he ate sweet potatoes from a jar with the Gerber baby on the label. We decided to try it for ten days and see if we look better than everyone else. (Go ahead and read Daniel, chapter 1)

So I found a recipe for ratatouille, and I made it. I have never seen nor eaten ratatouille. So I really didn't have anything to compare it to. I thought it turned out okay. The Goober said it did not look like the stuff from the movie, and I felt obligated to remind him that the movie was ANIMATED and I did not have a rodent pulling my hair to help me make it. He responded with gagging noises and said not to even tell him what the brown things were. The STP picked out all the green peppers and said it tasted better than it looked, but I'm pretty sure he shared the Goob's thoughts on how it looked.

So tonight I was feeling a little discouraged about supper. What do you want? Nothing. What are you hungry for? Nothing. What do you want--nothing. I would rather have nothing than what we've been having. (I was counting the days and this is day 10.) Open the fridge and look in. Oh, good--spinach, zucchini, cucumbers, leftover chinese vegetables that no one wants, and some tofu. Yes, tofu. Like toe foood.

So we made pasta and served it with Prego sauce with chunks of tofu. The STP had quinoa pasta shells, and the Goob and I had regular pasta shells. And we liked it. The Goober had two helpings of pasta WITH sauce, and tofu. And then we looked at each other and decided we did look better than everyone else and we would continue on for 10 more days.

So I'm open to recipe suggestions from all my vegan friends. Wait... do I have any vegan friends?

Of Files and Folders and Filing Cabinets

The file folder was not being used as a flashcard, just as scrap paper. The ten small words were just jotted on the back of the file folder.

There appears to be some confusion if the tenth word was 'is' or 'an'.

The file folder was labelled thusly:

And it has such valuable things as my bills for all twelve terms I attended good old PSU, info on every place I have worked and most places I have applied, the rough draft of my first cover letter handwritten and edited on notebook paper, my first resume typed on a typewriter, test scores from my registry exam, and a hand written note of encouragement from Dr. Glenn V. Tingley. It also has a page where I had written my name and the STP's name over and over in different colors of pen and markers. I suppose I was 20 years old, thinking that I would marry my prince and we would live happily ever after and I would never really have to have a real job. (Which is kind of how it has worked out...)

As an addendum to the filing post...

Yesterday the crazy barking dog (CBD) and I drove Alex to school. Upon our return, on my way through the big room, I noticed the STP had left a file drawer hanging open. (Leaving drawers open is unusual behavior only for the STP around here) So as I walked by, I pushed it shut. But the string from the bottom of my jacket got caught in the drawer. And when I tried to open the drawer, it was locked. So I saw the button with the lock, and I thought ...

PUSH IT! and before I remembered that that is a bad idea, I had pushed it. Which as you probably know (and I do now) locked the drawer for real. And so I had to call the STP and tell him that I had accidently locked my jacket in his filing cabinet. And neither of us thinks there is a key. But the STP is an amazingly understanding and talented man--able to remove stuck jackets from locked cabinets in a single bound. Looks like I was right about him 30 years ago.

Now I am going to find my markers and doodle his name on the back of the cable bill.

Oddly Enough

Not only did I post an odd number of times in February, But Amanda outposted me as well. This is a little troubling to me, because my life is so much better than hers. It is hard to imagine how this could happen. (Maybe I need a new love interest.)

So I am going to back up and tell you about our new TV. After Christmas the STP bought himself a 42 inch TV for the big room. My birthday gift to him was not whining about it. There was some confusion that the TV was actually his birthday gift, but that is not true. (Do not expect that you or I will get comparable gifts for our birthdays.) But also, do not think that not whining is a small gift.

We did not need a new TV. Our current 24 inch TV worked perfectly fine. It was hooked up to the cable for the first time in it's life, and you could watch more that 2 channels, and it did not snow at every football game. (Just the very cold outside ones.) And we are not blind.

But the STP wanted a new TV. A bigger TV. An HDTV. So in an extravagant loving gesture, I let him get one. He shopped online and talked to people and shopped in stores and talked to more people and finally went and bought one. (One of the people he talked to was me and that is why it is only 42 inches.) Here I am looking happy about the new TV.

Now the thing about an HDTV that you (and by 'you' I mean me) might not know is that an HDTV is not really an HDTV unless it is hooked to an HD signal. And all of those shows that say "Now available in HD" are not really available in HD unless your cable company subscribes to those channels in HD and you subscribe to your cable TV HD package. And by subscribe and package I mean pay extra for. Also, it requires the cable people to come and rewire the house and move the cable after you have already paid someone to wire twice. But they will waive the 'installation fee' and you will only have to pay for the HDMI cable and one other $10.00 fee which you have no idea is for. But it will not be recurring, so you do not even call to ask about it. Because, remember the gift. I am not whining. I'm just saying...

So the STP and Goober (who I sometimes refer to as Booger?!?!?!?!) are upstairs in the big room watching Star Wars episode Jabba the Hut on their big TV. Wishing they had a blu-ray player and surround sound speakers. (Which they do not.) And that is fine with me. Because I am not a whiner. I am not a whiner. I am not a whiner. I am not a whiner. I am not whining.

Ten Small Words

of it the to you in a and that is

I found these written on the back of a file folder. I think they are from Between the Lions which Alex used to watch on PBS before he went to preschool. Funny how ten small words can make me think of Arty Smartypants and Cliffhanger and a handful of index cards lined up on the living room floor in Spring Creek and a little girl asking "What does this say , Mommy?" I'm so thankful that we learned how to read.
This morning I read in Matthew 11 where Jesus says to the weary "Come to Me", and "let Me teach you".
Oh that I would learn.

Fat Tuesday

I wrote a blog entry about Mardi Gras that included beads, taking off my clothes, sweatshirts, Spring, ashes, and sackcloth. But because of the malformation or illegality of my client (see below), it did not appear here. Maybe that is for the best.

Bad Request

Whenever I hit the publish post button my computer says:

Bad Request

Your client has issued a malformed or illegal request

Malformed? Illegal?
And now a big red error message appears on my screen.
Somehow I think this is not good.

Luck Favors the Prepared

Went to the county courthouse Wednesday afternoon to apply for my passport. The courthouse is very courthouse-like. The Clerk of Courts is in charge of passports. I had all the necessary things gathered for Goober and I to apply for our passports. We had our photos taken before Christmas. His hair is longer than his shoulders and I look like a terrorist. If I ever disappear, I hope it is the picture they use on the news.
When you apply for your passport they want to know your travel plans. I don't have any travel plans. But luck favors the prepared, darling. So if I get the opportunity to go on a mission trip to Mexico, or be at the delivery of a grandchild in Slovakia, or am tapped to run for Vice-president of the United States, I'll be ready.
And I have 10 years to get to Paris. One of my life goals is to visit France. Now if I suddenly find the time and the money, I'll already have my passport. Oh, yeah. I'm well on my way.

Cold As Ice Fishing

These are the conversation hearts I gave the STP for Valentine's Day. He took Alex and I out to lunch today. He won lunch for 2 at the Sugar Shack in downtown Dodge City by entering the contest in the newspaper. The one where you had to describe in great detail your most romantic Valentines Day ever. No, really, all you had to do was answer the generic questions about Valentine's day and return it to the paper. And they only published the correct answers and the winners' names. No embarrassing pictures or poems.
But the best part of Valentine's Day this year was that the STP took me ice fishing. With 'the guys'. Ice fishing with the guys is no small deal. Wives do not go ice fishing. Even if the guys are going on Valentine's Day. They have breakfast together and one brave guy says, "Wives can come along." He knows his wife would never go, and he seriously doubts any other wife will go either. But Dave says, "Do you want to come along?" And I know that I will never get invited again, especially if I don't take this chance. So I went ice fishing.
Guys do not know what to do with this. First they think I am awesome and their wives are less than awesome because their wives would never go ice fishing with them. (except maybe once when they were dating). Then they start to get uncomfortable thinking that maybe other wives will start to go ice fishing and they will never get to go ice fishing again without their wives. And the wives are not really comfortable with me either. Maybe now their husbands will want them to go ice fishing with them. And who do I think I am--ice fishing with their husbands.
So here is what ice fishing is like: Cold.

Here is what you need to ice fish: A pick-up loaded with ice fishing paraphernalia and two sleds to haul said paraphernalia out onto the ice.

Ice fishing parphernalia includes: An ice auger (or two). To drill 6 to 10 inch holes through 18 inch thick ice. You first auger can be 6 inches in diameter, but the big fish are hard to get through a 6 inch hole so you will need a bigger auger. With a bigger engine. It takes two men to operate this, so you will also need a friend.
Ice fishing poles. This is a good time of year to buy an ice fishing pole, because they are on sale. You might as well buy two. If you have a license to ice fish you can use two poles. So you will have to drill two holes--for each of you.
A fish finder. This will tell you how deep the water is under the ice, so you know how deep to drop your line down the hole. It is also good to see fish swimming past your bait on their way to someone else's bait.
Bait. minnows, shrimp, or earth worms. Have some of each because you never know what the fish will be hungry for. The shrimp can be frozen. Ice fish love their food frozen. Also, you need a pocketful of miniature marshmallows to attach just above the earthworm on your hook. This makes the bait float a little, or else it gives the worm something to nibble on. If you are serious, your marshmallows are in a jar. They are bright green and have glitter on them. Now is a great time to buy a jar of these because they are on sale.
A fire pit. Set this up on the ice in the middle of where everyone is standing. Light a big fire. Once your line is baited and in the hole you will have a lot of time to stand around the fire. Stand on the far side of the fire from your holes. That way you can keep an eye on your poles in case you 'get a bite.' If you see your pole move you will have to holler and run frantically to your pole. Grab the line and give it a jerk to 'set the hook'. If you do not do this fast enough, some one else will do it for you. If the fish gets away it will be your fault, no matter how many guys have tugged on the line.
Now here is the part that is confusing. Put your pole (the one you just bought especially for ice fishing) down on the ice. Do not pick it up again until you have pulled the fish out of the hole using only your bare hands and a hand under hand motion on the fishing line. Just let the line fall in a tangle at your feet. I repeat--Do not use the pole or the reel. Again, if the fish gets away, it will be because you made a mistake in not keeping the line taut. You can probably solve this problem by buying a more expensive ice fishing rod. (While you are there you might as well price a new gun.)
A cooler stocked with food. Sausages to cook over the fire. Bags of Doritos. Drinks. However, if you are a woman you should not drink anything. There are no 'facilities' and it is not as easy for you to 'see a man about a horse' as it is for 'the guys'. And it is an hour home over a bumpy road.
If you catch a fish, it will flop around before it freezes to death. You will have to pick it up and get your picture taken with it. Hold the fish out in front of you, away from your body. This uses perspective to your advantage and makes your fish look bigger in the picture. If you want to catch another fish, you will have to kiss this fish. (This is a little known fact because guys do not take pictures of this ritual.)
If you want to sound like you know what you are doing, look at the fish and say, "Oh, it's a bull. See it's..." Do not finish the sentence. Anyone who does not know how the sentence ends will be too embarrassed to ask. Any one who knows what to look for will see it clearly and realize how knowledgable you are.
The STP and I only kissed each other, because we did not catch any fish. Alex caught two very nice cutthroat trout. My feet only got a little cold.
Would I do it again? Only if they asked me again.