Snow Day

The kids were out of school today due to an inch of snow and THANK GOD that our fine superintendent of schools didn't ring with a robo call, before dawn to inform our happily sleeping household.

My youngest managed to sled for a few brief moments in the single digit temps, though we spent more time getting his cold weather gear on and off. My oldest never even considered getting out. They spent most of their day playing Lego's and pretend warriors together, which is an anomaly.

I spent most of my day reading my book club's latest pick, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly. Very easy read, although I'll be surprised if more than one other person in the group actually gets through the whole thing. My book club peeps like the idea of a book club but can't actually follow through with the read. Now, they all have busy lives, some way busier than mine, but come on, you signed up for a book club, which implies that you would like to read and discuss a book. I just recently rejoined the club after a year and 1/2 hiatus. I am by no means a voracious reader so i really liked the idea of a deadline to keep me on task. However, after a while I became frustrated showing up excited but bleary eyed to discuss the novel I just finished reading at 2:30 that morning, to have one person (and sometimes no one) to discuss it with.

They swear to me that they are now reading the books. They have chosen less ambitious titles to help them accomplish this. Last month's was Blink. I doubt I would have ever read either of these on my own but I have enjoyed them both.

I'm reading The Other Boleyn Girl, on the side. I'm really digging it! In fact, my husband thinks it's a great book too, although he's never read a word. But he came home for lunch on Friday afternoon, and instead got afternoon delight. Later, he asked, "Where'd that come from?" "I was stirred by a hot love scene in my book," I confessed. "You should read more," he grinned.

Well, my boys need some calories before I chase them to their beds. No doubt, it won't be the finest nutrition, but they are easy to feed when my husband is working. Chicken noodle soup, cheese quesedillas and apples.

Wild Turkeys Meet Basset Hound

Patch had his first encounter with the North Asheville wild turkeys. He's sooo well behaved, huh? Didn't even try to take a bite. All that training time I have spent with him, has finally paid off. Now, if he would just be so kind to the human guests in our yard, things would be great. Rio and Edgy Mama know what I am talking about!

Horray for Donald Trump

Last fall I had a dream that I was involved in amorous relations with The Donald. A little perplexing, as I would much rather be dreaming of dancing in the sheets with Matthew McConaughey or Patrick Dempsey. But I have read that dreaming of sex with someone other than your mate doesn't mean what it does in the waking world; it means that your dream lover has an endearing or desirable quality that you want to possess. It is abundantly clear that I don't want to possess Donald's sense of style; I can't get past his train wreck comb over. I reluctantly concluded that I must have some deep seeded, unconcious love of his money or power. But alas, yesterday I discovered a different affinity for Trump.

You'd have to have been under a rock for the last few weeks not to have heard of Trump and Rosie O'Donnell's feud. It's quite hilarious to hear them go back and forth at each other, although in truth, you can't believe grown adults behave this way; Trump called Rosie a "fat pig" and a "slob". OUCH!

Yesterday, I saw some video footage at msn.com of an interview with Trump about the feud. It was during that interview that I realized what I like so much about him, what I want to possess, perhaps - his unapologeitc candor. Not about Rosie, but about our King, President Bush. He chuckled with indignation, that Bush had read 60 books last year. I missed this one, but apparently back in August, the Whitehouse in an attempt to shore up Bush's dismal approval ratings, released this info in a, no doubt, futile effort to make Bush appear intellectual. HA! And that's what Trump said. In addition, Trump thinks the Iraq war is ridiculous and believes it is perhaps the biggest mistake in American history.

You go, Donald! Maybe I'll see you in my dreams tonight!

Desolation Canyon

Here are a few Desolation Canyon Photos, 6 months later...

This is all of the kids in our crew crossing over the Greene River to the McPherson Ranch, where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid traded horses.

This is the McPherson Ranch, dilapidated and abandoned like someone was running from the law.



A tree at sunset on the edge of the ranch and the river.



Native American Petroglyphs

Me, after six days on river, with little sleep (accidentally left sleeping mat behind), matted hair, funky pits, and a sunblistered lip.

Asheville School Daze

Anticipating a delayed start of school because of last night's snow, we shut off our boys' alarm clocks last night so they could sleep in. At 6:27am this morning, the phone rang and rang rousing me from a saucy dream involving intoxication, the beach and a hot married man. Not surprisingly, I clumsily knocked the phone from its cradle and it skidded across the floor. Heart racing, I finally answered, assuming the news at the other end terrible, considering the time of morning. Perhaps my Dad had another mini stroke? My house was on fire? My mother-n-law fell out of bed again? No, it was our school superintendent, Robert Logan, calling with a recorded message to inform us that school had been delayed. Thanks an effing lot for waking up the whole house, Mr. Logan. And for interrupting the best dream I’ve had all year.

Fast forward to 2:30. Wednesday afternoon is the only time my boys don't regularly ride the bus. When I arrived to pick them up from school my oldest, the brainiaic, handed me a letter from the Central Office stating that because of low rider ship and lack of funding from the state, their bus route had been cut. Makes sense to me, it had maybe 20 kids on it. It's more economical to combine routes, right? So i read on to find out what bus would now be transporting them. To my shock and dismay, there was no alternative transportation planned.
Huh? Doesn't the school system have some legal obligation to transport all children to school? We are probably 5 or 6 miles from the school, so walking isn't a viable option. I just don't get it. If the state doesn't have the dough to get my kids to school, then the city needs to come up with it. Or perhaps the feds should so they can tout their slogan, "No Child Left Behind".
I have several calls into the Administrator for Transportation for the Asheville City Schools. Hmmmm, I wonder why he isn't answering his phone? When he does call back, I just have to remember not to shoot the messenger.

Wonder

If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.
Rachel Carson

The Jack Witch Project

My youngest likes to take pictures.


Mostly of the dog.
Unconventional angles...



this one is my favorite
I like these too.

Christmas Solace

In the midst of the Christmas chaos, I found sweet solace. I spent the better part of three days largely ignoring my husband's family and watching "old" movies of my children. I hadn't cataloged any of my tapes since my youngest was born 7 years ago. It was incredibly nostalgic but somewhat depressing as some of the taped events I couldn't even recall. I had forgotten that my mother had taught my youngest to call his older brother, Bubba. How could I forget such an idiotic yet endearing name?

Most of the footage was of Christmas, Birthday parties and vacations. Oddly enough, there was an inordinate amount of footage of my boys bathing. There is something about their little, nekked, chubby, bodies I just want to preserve. It is the epitome of innocence and lack of inhibition. (They watched the tapes with me and my oldest is quite embarrassed now). In one instance, my boys are bathing together. My youngest, who is about 18 months and so chubby he's never laid eyes on his manhood because his Buddha belly is blocking his vision, reaches over to my oldest and grabs his manhood, well, because it looks like something to play with. He's right, but you have to play with your own. Of course he eventually learned that but that's a whole different post.

Christmas Ivy

Eight days before Christmas, my husband had intimate relations with the English Ivy in our back yard, cutting the insidious vines away from the tall pines. He was proud of his accomplishment until he woke in the middle of the night, itching like mad. Apparently, Poison Ivy was sleeping with English Ivy and my husband caught the itch, even though he used protection - long sleeves and pants. Before the next morning was out, he had two steroid shots to ease the burning itch that consumed his entire body, including his face. That's how the itch appeared on the inside of my thigh- from the oil on his face. Now I know what you are thinking, but it didn't happen that way. Nope, I like to sleep with a pillow between my knees, thus the the raging red patch on my thigh.