Showgirls and Judging Judies

Back to the fanciful day at Lagoon. In an effort to revive some of our rapidly dwindling youthfulness, Dawn and I had a grand idea as we were strolling through the Pioneer Village. The old time photo shop was calling to us. We figured taking some pictures in front of a saloon dressed as skanky showgirls would totally infuse some juvenescence back in our blood. Only one problem with that master plan: what do we do with Squid and the Bear? Dressing my daughters up in provocative fishnets with feather boas probably won't earn me any votes for Mother of the Year.

Well, never underestimate a scrapbooker on a mission! Our genius goes far beyond just cropping and pasting. We also have quite the prowess for staging photos. If there's any scrapbooker out there who denies ever staging a "special memory" for the sole purpose of having photos to match some terrific patterned paper or stickers, she's lying! In this case, my ingenuity didn't let me down. How about we dress the girls as uppity church girls passing judgement on the dancing girls, who are surely going straight to hell! Brilliant!

It was immediately obvious that the worker bees at the photo shop were not used to the patrons calling the shots. When they asked if we wanted a formal or fun setting and we replied with "both", they were so confused. But don't worry, we walked them through it and I think they were 85% onboard in the end.

Now, as a sidebar, for anyone interested in having their own old time photos taken, be aware of the following. The clothes they use aren't exactly modest. The dresses are like hospital gowns that are open in the back with a few ties. Never have I worn so little in a room full of strangers. You may want to opt for the formal look, so you can just slip the costume on over your clothes.

So, here's the finished product. What do you think? Personally, I say we pulled it off perfectly!!!

The Book Bag

I find it astonishing that you can have parents for 34 years, (not to imply that I am 34 years old!) and find one day that you know very little about them.

Take for example my father and his ears. No, I don't mean that I didn't know he had ears. Considering he hammered flat any jingle bell or toy bell on any of my stuffed animals, and could wake from a dead sleep every time the fridge motor would kick on, it is quite evident that Dad has ears. By ears, I mean that just this year I was informed that Dad has a constant ringing in his ears, and has had since his Army days in Germany. I guess being on a tank and blowing things up takes its toll on the eardrums. Anyhooooo, my dad was talking about this ringing in his ears a few months back and I sat there dumbstruck, and then began to argue with him. I told him he was wrong. He could not possibly have a lifelong ailment such as this, of which I had no prior notification.

If using this same logic, it can be concluded that my father also has no interest whatsoever in drag racing! However, apparently (even without my knowledge), the drag race scene has been somewhat of an obsession of Pa's since before I knew him. Again, how could someone I spent all of my childhood with be involved with something and I have no awareness of it? We watched a lot of TV, and I do mean a lot of TV, back in the day. I remember bouts with boring golf games, even some tennis matches, and certainly about a million innings of baseball, but never ever did any funny car blaze the quarter-mile across our TV screen. Even still, Dad knows all the stats and stories of this sport. Is drag racing considered a "sport", maybe an industry, or passtime? I don't know.

So I'm left just scratching my head wondering, "How can this be?" That's where I'm at. Just dazed and confused. Makes me wonder what else was right under my nose that I never picked up. Were my brothers trapeze artists in the circus? Did my little sister sing, dance, and spit fire at the ward road-show?

Another case in point: my mother is a poet. This realization was brought into sharp focus this evening when I opened a scroll of paper my mom left on my kitchen counter during an afternoon visit with Squid. In her beautiful "mom cursive", the following verse came to life as tears filled my eyes. And I quote:

For Steffi

"The Book Bag"

Oh what magic I carry to and fro,

The treasures of one so young with years to grow.

The lessons from school, all the learning she's gained,

In the summer sunshine and wet days as it rained.

She has filled me with joy, as I carry the weight

Of jump ropes, papers, and rocks,

Hurrying as not to be late.

The papers all finished, the teacher has marked

with smiley faces and intellects sparked.

How many times she has drawn from within,

For with the jump rope she'll be challenged to win.

Oh now the rocks, each one such a beauty,

All sizes and shapes, treasured with loving duty.

Two years now she's carried me to and fro,

And now my seams are fraying,

And she puts me aside for a bag that's all new.

I've loved you Dear Steffi.

For your happiness I will be praying.

With love,

Your Book Bag

**Pause for dramatic effect**


Now, had I read this as a child, I would have just rolled my eyes and dismissed it as more crazy ramblings of my mom. Today, as a mom of little girls, I savored every word of this prose. I could feel the spirit in which it was written all those many years ago. My mom noticed and cherished even the smallest details of my childhood. What have I done today to capture a memory for my children, or let them know they are loved? Will they find themselves one day wondering how they could know so little about me after a lifetime as my child? I hope not.

Thanks to my wonderful parents for every fond memory I have of my childhood. Even if I wasn't aware of half of them!

A Kid Again?

If I were to sift through the annals of my brain recalling historical ad campaigns for Lagoon, I am certain the phrase "makes you feel like a kid again" would make an appearance. It was this concept that accompanied me (along with Squid, Bear, and Aunt Dawn) to a day at Lagoon, Utah's claim to fame in the amusement park arena.

How very naive I still am in my old age. Not only did I not feel like a kid again, I'm pretty sure I aged 15 years in the span of 10 hours that day.

To begin with, the very first ride we went on made me pee a little. Well, okay, the first "ride" was a stop at the restroom. I could feel my children's dismay as I dragged them past all the fun stuff to the stinky potties. Considering I spent half my childhood in public restrooms since my mom would need to go at least every 15 minutes, it was no difficult chore to interpret that look of disgust on my own offspring's faces. Now it's me traversing to tinkle town every hour. I should warn my girls at this time, shrinking bladder capacity is directly linked to complaining about your mom's frequent pit stops. You will be cursed with this ailment later in life should you moan, groan, roll your eyes, or make negative comment when the old lady has to go again!

After the evacuation was complete, we could hit the rides. First off, Terroride! Although the most benign of all haunted house rides ever, this thing was torture for me as a child. To this day, I have never kept my eyes open all the way through. So you would think I'd be a little more understanding when the Bear was reluctant to enter the line. But, oh no, I fake excitement and try to sell the ride to her. It is after all, a classic. All the way through, she clung to me for dear life. To distract myself from the terrifying terror of said Terroride, I tried to snap self pictures of the two of us. You see, a true scrapbooker will risk life, limb, and death by haunted house rides to capture those most special of memories on camera.

Next up, another good old classic, the Roller Coaster. Constructed in about 1797, it's surprising to me that you don't have to sign a release every time you ride it....."I agree to not sue the living snot out of Lagoon when this rickety wooden roller coaster crashes to pieces beneath me. I also agree that I will not raise my hands above my head." Something like that. It's at this point my age begins to show. As we watched the ride attendants run along the side of the cars to ensure safety restraints are securely in place, I leaned over to Aunt Dawn and made the comment that it must hurt the back after a day of running along and leaning over like that. Really? That was my only thought at this juncture? Once we disembarked the old creaky coaster a bit of dizziness set in. I walked gingerly down the ramp wondering what this strange sensation was. It has been confirmed through extensive research that I am getting old and cannot endure thrill rides like I once did.

Well if anything could bring back that feeling of being a kid again, it would be a spin on the Wild Mouse. Remember this thing? It's like a giant sized Mouse Trap game, but you're the ball rolling through the course. The cars and rails are designed so you think you're going to be flung right off the track with each turn. Yes, a glimpse of the good 'ole days began to creep in at this point. But once again, upon exiting the dang thing, a wave of woozy took over. Seriously? This is how it's gonna be?

On to Music Express. Aunt Dawn remembered this as the ride you go on with a boy and you act like you aren't going to fall into him when the ride goes full speed, but you actually are going on the ride for the very purpose of having an excuse to cuddle up to him. I was perplexed. I only remembered the ride as "I'm not kidding Jen (my sister), get off me!" It's quite possible that I never interacted with boys until I was 18. As if to further illustrate our elderly status, we complained no less than 6 times about the lame "music." Where was INXS with "Need You Tonight", or Kenny Loggins belting out "Highway to the Danger Zone"?

If we're done with Music Express, you know what's next, right? Yessirree, none other than the Fire Dragon himself, Colossus. It was earth shaking, history making news when this monster went in at the Lagoon! Seems like just last year it was the new attraction, but apparently it was, well, let's just say it was a while ago; I'm not at all interested in divulging the actual number of years. Now, you just walk right on, no lines, no waiting. Poor thing has almost been forgotten with all the new fangdangled super-thrill adventures that have been added in recent years. Or maybe people are turned off by the new smaller seats in the cars. I don't know when they changed them, but now my hips have to squeeze into the seats and quite frankly, it's not very comfortable. There must have been some cost cutting measures requiring smaller cars or something. Regardless, my kids loved this ride, which has the acclaimed stardom of being the first "go upside down" ride in the park. And it goes upside down twice! You just wouldn't believe it!

At one point, our foursome was split up in line for the Paratrooper. I suggested that while Squid and I took our turn, instead of waiting for us, Dawn and the Bear could go do an enclosed waterslide tube ride. Squid and I share a great fondness for NOT small enclosed spaces. Unfortunately for them, the raft they were given was completely deflated so they got drenched! Gee, there's nothing better than soaking wet denim jeans for a day.

Bear and Dawn before the wetness, enjoying the Paratrooper.

Squid and my feet happily dangling in air while the rest of our party foolishly went and got themselves soaked!

With this debacle afoot, it was decided we would travel home for lunch and a fresh change of clothes. As a child, leaving Lagoon before it closed was unheard of. Going home for lunch? How lame is that?

Upon our return, we continued to tear it up on as many rides as we could. All the while, I continued to age right before my very eyes. Every tween and teeny-bopper we passed was dressed in clothes that could have been worn by myself back in 1984. How did paint splattered jackets, jelly bracelets, Nike high-tops, and bright colors that don't match come back in style? I thought we had safely tucked those embarassing styles away in a locked box at the back of the storeroom and lost the key. Seeing all those clothes transported me back in time making me realize how very very long ago it was when I was once a tweeny. I'm talking ages and ages ago.

So in an effort to feel young again, and fit in with all the cool kids, Squid, Bear and I all got tattoos. Yup, real-live, full color, completely permanent (for 5 days), airbrush tattoos! Don't we look tough!

As if the clothes didn't create a big enough generation gap, the chasm deepened when I noticed that I was having more fun watching the 2 year olds in the kiddie boats go round and round than I was on rides. Additionally, I couldn't wait to spend some time in Pioneer Village where we could sit and eat a real dinner and leisurely stroll the boardwalks. I recall absolutely hating my parents for making us spend what seemed like 16 hours at dumb Pioneer Village. And now, here I was doing the same darn thing.Mmmmmmm BBQ! Plus, a line of silly girls trying to find some way to have fun at Pioneer Village.

Actually, truth be told, an outrageously good time was had in the Pioneer Village, but photos of the evidence are forthcoming. They are just far too spectacular to mingle them among these simpleton Lagoon shots. Stay tuned for a post called Show Girls and Judging Judys.

The day became even more pathetic when us old folks declined a second trip on the roller coaster. We told the kids to take off and have fun and we'd be waiting for them at the exit of the ride. I do believe my butt sat firmly in the exact same spot on the concrete wall around the tree where my own parents' butts sat a generation ago. To further exagerate this scene, I yawned and yawned while we waited and kept looking at the time. Surely it had to have been about midnight. Sadly, no, it was only 8:30.

Sitting out the roller coaster set the stage for the rest of the evening. Aunt Dawn and I decided that was the way to go for the remainder of the rides. We would sit and watch the young 'uns while they waited in line and rode some rides. I think that was the longest I've been able to sit and just relax in about 2 months. It was surprisingly therapeutic, despite the fact that I had concrete butt (you know the sensation when your hiney goes to sleep and gets all cold from sitting on the sidewalk).

It was also a great opportunity for my favorite passtime: people watching. Though times change, there are some things that will transcend all time, ie: teen girls chasing teen boys around the park all day. It was so very obvious what each girl going by was thinking as she executed her carefully planned chase. I remember. I was that girl once; the girl with her friend that jumped on the lift ride that goes across the whole park in hopes of running into those hot guys from the last ride again. It was a great plan in theory, but in practice, there was never any resolution if you finally actually did run into those guys. What exactly was supposed to happen? Well, the girls of today aren't any different. I saw many a scene where they did catch up to the guys and the girls just looked at eachother, dumbstruck, and giggled. Maybe one even got up the nerve to accidentally wave at the boys. Then some squeals as the girls run the other direction. Ya, excellent plan, very well done!

By the end of the night, I think an important reality finally hit me and sunk in: I'm the grown-up now. This whole year, there have been signs at every turn hinting that I am not young and hip anymore. I have a daughter in Jr. High, I'm sore for days after I work out, I say things like "young and hip", I can shop for bras without being embarassed, I can talk about shopping for bras without being embarassed, I am okay wearing frumpy shoes because they are comfortable, and I no longer relate with most of the people I work with, considering most of them are between 18 and 23. And this trip to Lagoon sealed the deal when I just accepted the fact that I did enjoy simply sitting and watching the kids at the park rather than cramming in as many rides as I could before the park closed.

It is official, I'm not a youth any longer. Surely, everyone reading this is laughing hysterically shouting to their computer screen "Hey stupid, you haven't been a youth for 15-some-0dd years!" But this day put the truth of the matter into bright perspective, as much as I didn't want it to.

Blood Moon

I know there is a crew of firefighters out there tonight who are cursing the horrendous winds and the brush fire they're fighting. Thankfully, I'm far enough removed that I can just sit back and enjoy the unbelievable sky and moon that the aforementioned combination provides. I invite you to do the same.

And now, I'm going to go scoop the sand out of my eyes and revel in my ownership of the Nikon D50 with Sigma DC 18-200mm lens with OS. Thank you, and good night.

July has started off with a bang! I don't mean fireworks, those come tomorrow. What I mean is, well, let me just show you.........What you're seeing here is a 4x4 area of my garage ceiling that came crashing down at 5:00am yesterday. You may notice the water marks. Seems a fiesty sprinkler lost its head on the outside of the garage. It shot water straight up through the eave of the house and filled the attic over the garage with water. Drywall is called drywall for a reason. It is meant to stay DRY!!! Luckily the falling debris missed my car by inches.

Not too big of a deal. Scoop up some insulation and drywall. Cover the hole in the ceiling with cardboard, and wait for Stretch to come home in 6 months!

But you all know that my life is not so simple. By the time I got home from work in the afternoon, my darling little 4x4 hole had become..........

About 2 12x12 sections of ceiling are now on the garage floor. Well, not now now. Now, they are in the back of the truck waiting to be taken to the dump. This was certainly not an enjoyable task, but a surprisingly quick clean-up. Snow shovels are quite handy, even in the summer!

I do appreciate any sympathy that may be coming my way right now. But don't feel too badly for me. There are multiple silver linings around that gigantic hole in my ceiling. 1) No vehicles were harmed in the making of this hole. 2) The water was only from a sprinkler and not something more difficult to fix. 3) The water only filled the attic over the garage, not the house. I would not be so quick to find silver linings if this had happened over my living room or kitchen. 4) I have been meaning to clean up the mess of stuff on that side of the garage; this just forced my hand and now it's done. 5) I get to use the cool hammer-stapler we got for stapling up insulation! It's super awesome....you just slam it into the wall. 6) When I went to load these photos, I found this pic of Ella in a dress. The things my children do when I'm not watching!

See, silver linings even in the soggiest of messes.

Backyard Air Show

Hill Air Force Base held their Air Show this weekend. Living right outside the base gives us the opportunity to have our own air show nearly every day. But this weekend, about 1/2 a million other people got to share in the awe of F16 jets flying right overhead.

The highlight of the show was the Thunderbirds aerial team. This is an experience you won't soon forget. These jets fly so close to the ground, so close to eachother and in such amazing precison. Considering it was also the 65th anniversary of D-Day, it's was a patriotic moment that gave me chills and even a tear to my eye. God Bless the US Military!

Additionally, this was one of those times when the guilt of spending thousands of dollars on camera equipment and software completely dissolves! Behold:

The sky could not have been more perfect for this show. Those red, white, and blue planes against that crystal blue sky was breathtaking! But it was way cool seeing them fly with our gorgeous mountains as a backdrop.

All six Thunderbirds in formation.

I love this shot because you can see the pilots' heads in the planes.

A lone pilot flies by upside down!

The neighbors were kind enough to let all the kids on the street watch the show from their roof. Squid and the Bear had the best seat in the house.....well, on the house!

Man of the House

The ultimate purpose of this post is to serve as a formal apology to my sweet husband. Over the years, I have selfishly become overly dependent upon him and his endless energy with which he accomplishes more in a day than any 10 people could. However, in fairness to the any 10 people, he often considers 72 hour blocks of time to be one day. So, baby, thank you for all you do. Please forgive me for not appreciating it enough.

It struck me tonight just how ridiculous my dependency had become when I referred to the boy cat as "The Man of the House" and tasked him with killing a spider that was creeping towards me. I mean, that's a boy job, and he's the only boy around.

I know you're on the edge of your seat waiting to hear the tale of how my trusty steed (okay, fat lazy cat) GusGus battled to the death with the spider. As is common with this blog, I must once again disappoint you. No battle ensued, the spider disappeared to who-knows-where, safe to lurk about my home for a later attack. If this blog never again gets updated, you'll know the spider staged a midnight ambush, bit me, and I died. Stupid Gus has now been demoted from "Man of the House" to "Toilet Water Drinker," for which I didn't really have a job opening to begin with, but he's willing to perform the service anyway.

It's at this point I fall to my knees wondering who will save me? I can't possibly be expected to be on spider-killer duty. It's not right, it's not fair, and darn it, I won't stand for it!

During this deployment I have happily taken on many boy jobs. Again, this is where I must apologize to Stretch. I might joke about icky jobs I don't want to do, but in all seriousness, I have taken advantage of his work ethic and let him take on far more than is fair. It's overwhelming to me how much he takes care of around here.

Having to do it all myself has been a humbling, albeit exhausting, experience. Obviously there's a house to run. That hasn't changed. But somehow, keeping up on it is much harder than before. I realize that is partly because Stretch was the master laundry-doer. But that aside, there's so much I neglect when he's around, just figuring it will all get done. Well, I'm mending my ways and have somehow begun to squeeze more into a day than I thought possible.

Here's just a few of the so-called boy jobs I am surprisingly finding much self worth in accomplishing:
- Tuesday night lawn mowing routine.
- Pumping out the windowwell when it floods.
- Buying more sandbags to keep it from flooding in the first place.
- Lugging the dang sandbags to the backyard.
- Fixing sprinklers that are masquerading as Old Faithful-like geysers.
- Attacking weeds in the gravel, porch, and driveway cracks with Round-Up.
- Taking down the weird sized light cover to change light bulbs in the dining room.
- Scraping gross algae from the sides of the yucky fish tank.
- Getting grass to grow in the tree holes.
- This takes us back a few months, but snowplowing. Then realizing there's not enough snow to fire up the plow, so I shovel instead.
- Going to the post office every Saturday to pick up more registered mail containing ebay purchases.
- Putting those charming little ebay purchases in card holders.
- Car maintenance. Don't be delusional here......I don't do the maintenance myself. Geez, we have to draw the line somewhere. But I am good at driving the vehicles to the dealer and letting them maintain my cars.
- Arguing with the comcast people over my "price for life" that increased. I guess they consider "life" to be the course of one calendar year.
- Serving as the Pediatric Urgent Care triage nurse.
- Making fajitas.
- Tightening loose cupboard doors. Okay, okay, I graciously let Squid take over that chore. She's mighty swift with a ratcheting screwdriver.
- Are you catching my drift here?

When the year began I would simply crumble to pieces when anything went wrong. I just didn't think I had the strength or energy to do it all. Now, I actually find that the unexpected tasks that pop up don't overwhelm me at first glance like they once did. How's that for growth? I have to say it's an amazing, satisfying feeling to lock the garage and walk across the fresh cut lawn admiring my perfectly straight lines, especially when the girls are squeaking and sqwaking on the swingset in the background. It's a perfect moment when life is all good!

I believe I am inching closer to getting things all balanced out in this temporary life situation. The balance comes from having confidence that I can do the tough stuff, being grateful for all the hard work my husband does for our family, and in admitting when I need help. And killing spiders is that breaking point! I gladly take on all that is required to maintain a home, a yard, a job, 2 kids, and a long distance marriage, but I have formally and irrevocably drawn the line in the sand at spider hunting. Wow, I feel stronger just admitting it.