Saturday

I have had a busy week, my friends! I spent three days at a geek conference, and it was more than a little painful. Don't get me wrong, now: I LOVE geeks. They are very useful in many, many ways. I just don't want to listen to them yabber all day about boring ass equations and user defined functions. Especially when they are ALL WRONG. They should ask me; I would tell them. I don't know why my opinion is not more frequently solicited. Oh well, a mystery for another day.

In other news, I have been feeling a definite hint of fall in the air here in the Pacific Northwest. This is also ALL WRONG, because it is the second week of August and summer just started 23 seconds ago. Seriously, I had to go coat shopping. You guys are not going to believe this, but I went TO THE MALL. They have this store? Called Macy's? And there are racks upon rack of clothes that ARE ALL THE SAME, ONLY IN DIFFERENT SIZES. It was very strange, and it took me a while to acclimate, but once my head stopped spinning I found the most awesome black trench coat with white piping on super clearance for $29.98. It had been marked down from $199, which makes me wonder how much profit, exactly, they make on regularly priced items. Oh yeah, A LOT, and all because of outsourcing to countries with super cheap child labor in their slavery-like SWEATSHOPS. Too bad, so sad, score for me, right? To assuage my conscience, I went to Goodwill on the way home and picked up an tan Old Navy trench (also sweat-shopped, natch, but the damage was already done WAY before the coat got into my hot little hands, so yay, me!) and a Cabbage Patch Kid for the boys.

Let's see, what else? Hmmmm..... We have been harvesting garden goodness left and right. We have this crappy apple tree in our back yard, and the apples have been falling off with reckless abandon. I have been snatching them up before the compost rats can get them and slicing them up for the freezer. I feel very Little House on the Prairie, let me tell you. We have also been digging potatoes and performing various other productive chores. The kids LOVE this, which is funny, because they were not nearly so keen on hoeing and watering for the last two months.

If you saw the beach pictures, you will know we just came back from a trip to the coast. SUPER FUN. Also, we had a memorial service for my mother and grandmother/burial service for my grandmother on the way to the beach, followed by a burial service for my mother on the way home from the beach. Confused? WELCOME TO MY WORLD.

Wow, you know what? I think I might be done here for tonight. Oh, I have plenty more to say, believe you me! For example, I am, once again, reading a book about a book, which always makes Lloyd mock me severely, but really, it's quite fascinating and I intend to tell you about it. Just not today. Someday I hope to read a book about a book about a book, just to really blow his mind. That's all for now; have a FANTASTIC weekend!

More

Just a few more vacation photos....

Beach

***updated to say: Look at these fantastic vacation pictures! My extremely clever brother-in-law, Stefan, took them with his iphone. Can you believe that? He even had it inside a ziploc bag, what is up with that?!?!?! If I put my phone inside a bag I probably couldn't even use it to swat flies, and here he can take pictures I'd give Lloyd's right arm to be able to take with a big fancy camera.

***also, we are back from vacation, yay!

Circuitous

I feel like I need to write something; we've had a pretty eventful week or two, and there's a lot coming up, too. But I don't usually like to write just to report just the facts; I get cross with myself unless I actually have a point of some kind. Dumb, I suppose. I've noticed I never just post on facebook about just what's going on, either- I always have to have some smartass remark or I won't even bother. I feel like I have a million things I COULD write, and sort of want to, but I don't know if I have the energy for it. Plus, no one wants to read a bunch of dreary crap here; you can get that anywhere. I mean, the only reason to come here is for funny stories and the occasional rant, right? You can get your depressing garbage 24/7 on CNN. Or Fox, if you're not boycotting them. I am. Too bad, too, because while I despise their toxic right wing slant, they are consistently ahead of the pack on breaking news. That's probably what Rupert Murdoch got in exchange when he sold his soul to the devil. Up until pretty recently it was working out pretty well for him, too, yes?

Well, since I'm here, clicking away, I might as well make a report. I guess if you don't like it, you don't have to read it; it's a free country and all that.

Want to know something weird? I have had the preceding paragraphs written for DAYS, and all this blank white space has just been sitting here waiting. Waiting, waiting..... I just couldn't make myself spit it out. Sometimes, though, if you can't do something by barreling straight through, you can come at it from the side. I have to do that all the time at work; it's usually pretty successful, if annoyingly and unnecessarily circuitous.

So! We are going to the beach next week. It will be super fun. First, though, we have to stop by the cemetery for my mother's burial service, and my grandmother's. Also my grandmother's dog, but that's not quite so traumatic. They've been cremated, of course, so no need to get all creeped out. The relatives will be out in full force; feel free to get all creeped out! Since all three of the decedents will be buried at the same cemetery but in different spots, only Grandma and Tiger will be buried at that time. We'll stop back by on the way back for my mother's actual burial. I have to say, I wouldn't recommend this dragging out of the festivities. The next time I have a shopping bag filled with friends, relatives, pets, or any combination thereof, I am definitely getting rid of it as soon as possible.

Speaking of dead people, there is also some depressing business going on at my office with some co-workers. It's not my story to tell, but it has been quite distressing for the entire staff, and the response has been underwhelming at best. Hmmmm, I guess that is all I have to say about that.

There, look! I did it. I only left out a few things, like our recent visit to the ER. Everyone is fine now, not to worry. Everyone except me, that is. Weston weighs 68 pounds; I know this because the only time I put him down was to place him on the scale, so they could figure out how much to dose him for the excruciating and inexplicable neck pain he was experiencing. It's gone now, but I still haven't figured out how to dose myself for the excruciating lower back pain I will probably be experiencing for the next month.

See? Circuitous. But done.

Rasputin, Revisited

I know everyone has been waiting breathlessly for me to tackle a weighty topic in a mature, thoughtful manner. I've been ruminating like mad, and as result, I'm pleased to bring you this treatise on naughty chickens. This, of course, is a subject that's near and dear to my heart, and one I've recently been reminded of. First, by The Bloggess' brilliant story of Beyonce, and then again just yesterday by the tale of my friend Cheryl's bad bird, Peaches. If you have known me for a long time, or if you used to read Stories from Korea, you might remember the story of Rasputin. Mischievous poultry, must, of course, be approached with the appropriate gravity, but as we all know, I am very lazy, so I am presenting here the reworked story of Rasputin for your reading pleasure:

RASPUTIN

When we were living in Pensacola, Lloyd used to buy quail and plant them in the bushes and then take Ranger out to train him to sniff out birds, or whatever it is hunting dogs are supposed to do. Besides fart and snore, I mean. One day when he was buying his quail, the redneck he bought them from asked him if he wanted a rooster for free, because it was fighting with his other chickens and he needed to get rid of it. We lived in a subdivision with a no-chicken rule, among other foolish requirements. No fireworks, no yard sales, no campers, and most especially, no chickens. It's a wonder anyone wanted to live there at all. But, there we were anyway, in all of our chickenless despair. In any case, Lloyd, being a chicken lover, or a giant sucker, whichever, brought the thing home in a box along with the quail.

When he got home, he got out of his truck and heard a huge racket coming from the bird box, and it sounded like the rooster was beating up on the quail. Lloyd is a huge fan of the underbird, until he puts them in some bushes for a dog to eat, so he opened the box and grabbed the rooster. The rooster went crazy, and Lloyd swung him around, accidentally bashing his head against a tree. In our front yard. In the no-chicken subdivision. The rooster went limp and finally Lloyd started to think. He thinks, "Hmmm, Anna's going to be home soon and she is not going to like this dead rooster situation. I know! I'll throw him over the back fence and she will be none the wiser!" Behind our back fence was a strip of woods about 75 feet wide, and it ran the length of our chicken-free street, and there was another, presumably also chickenless, neighborhood on the other side.

The next day, I was laying on the couch hopped up on pain pills with my leg propped up on some pillows. I should mention here that I was on crutches from falling through the attic onto the garage floor. As a public service, I should also mention that you should never, ever, walk around in your attic unless it actually has a floor to support your weight rather than just sheetrock ceiling panels. Lloyd was outside messing around and he came tearing into the house yelling that I had to get up and look on the back fence. As you can imagine, getting up and trucking myself to the back yard was not an easy task, so I hollered at him that whatever it was had better be good. I heaved myself up and hobbled into the back yard, muttering under my breath the entire way. To my surprise, there was a brain-damaged rooster sitting on the back fence with his head all cocked over, making a sort of demented warbling noise. At that point, Lloyd had to fess up to the whole story, and we named the rooster Rasputin, for he who could not be killed. Or, he who was difficult to kill, at least.

Pretty soon, Rasputin got his crow back, and he started to crow bright and early every morning, annoying the neighbors in the no-chicken neighborhood. One day, we had a visit from animal control. Some of the neighbors had complained of a rooster crowing in the neighborhood and they thought it was coming from somewhere around our house. Had we seen it? And could they check our back yard? We glanced nervously at each other before assuring them that of course, we didn't have any chickens. We would NEVER have any chickens! Goodness, they are against the rules, we said. And certainly, we would be pleased to have them inspect the yard. Come right in, officers! Luckily Rasputin had some street smarts because he stayed out of sight and kept his gob shut. The chicken cops, stymied, left and didn't come back. Then Lloyd started thinking again, and we all know how that turns out. He decided that Rasputin might be lonely. You know where this going, right? Yep, one day he came home with two hens, and promptly chucked them over the fence, this time with their glorious chicken brains completely functional. And for all I know, all three of them are there to this day, living in polygamous bliss.

Vacation

I'm back! Did you miss me? Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?? Oh, good! Hi, Helen! Oh, great, there's Janelle and Lauren and Pam, too! Sweet! You guys want to see my vacation pictures? Hey! Where are you going?? Come back here right now! And you have to listen to my boring story, too.

So! We went to Sun Lakes Resort in eastern Washington. The weather was fantastic, after a brutally cold and wet spring here in western Washington. We went at almost the exact same time last year, which you can read about here. There is excellent geology there- channeled scablands from the Glacial Lake Missoula Flood, and miles and miles of Columbia River Basalt. There are marmots galore, and plenty of fish.

Also, there was a redneck wedding in the cabin next to us- I swear, there was a pregnant bride, loud nasally country music way into the night, a bunch of buck-toothed kids in overalls AND a fat guy on a Harley. Oh, and there was THE most monstrous child ever in the swimming pool. And not mine this time! You know how super fair-skinned red-haired people are either attractive (Damian Lewis) or hideous (Carrot Top)? This kid was of the ugly variety, and here is why I hate him:

1. He came up to us the second we got in the pool and demanded we give him our noodles RIGHT NOW;

2. He spit a mouthful of water on me and announced that he didn't like me; and

3. He screamed loudly that his mother wasn't there and no one was watching him.

Is it wrong to call a little kid an asshole? I think I might know why his mother left him alone in the swimming pool. Unless of course he is a lying little asshole and she was just pretending not to know him.

And, on a final note, you can thank Lloyd for the pictures- the camera battery went dead so he went all MacGyver and hooked up the camera batteries to the car battery with a wire coat hanger and charged them up good. You can see instructions for a similar effort here, just in case you're stuck in the wilderness with a dead iphone and need to get on Facebook.

Greenbacks

Remember when I promised ages ago to share my brilliant Las Vegas idea? I meant to do it right away, too, but then my cat got all run over and I was discombobulated. But now I have installed a tube that goes from my backyard distillery to an outlet valve in every room of my house, plus I have a portable unit that I can wheel around, like those people that use oxygen canisters. I’m MUCH better now, so here goes:

An eco-friendly casino/resort/co-op! Don’t you love it?!?!!? The name is Greenbacks; that was Helen’s idea. It will be in the shape of the recycling symbol, and it will be powered by solar panels, turbines, and bicycles like on Gilligan’s Island. People can pedal for food when they have gambled away all their money. We’ll recycle the food from the other casinos, and whatever the ‘volunteer’ pedalers don’t eat we can compost. Inside the open space in the middle will be the garden, composting and chicken coop area, where we will generate all of our food.

Of course, foraging animals take up a lot of resources, so our buffet meals will be most vegetarian, but once a year we’ll have a cattle drive. People will have to sign up in advance because it will be super popular, and we’ll drive organic cows into our compound, slaughter them and feast on the meat. Then we’ll let our guests tan the leather and fur, and make their own clothes and shoes. You might think that’s a little crazy, but Caesar’s has a make your own shoe shop. I saw it about 37 times because it was right across from the slushy machines that excrete the gigantic margaritas, so you can be sure it’s an accurate report. And it was very popular; just imagine if you could charge extra to tan your own leather!

We’ll have all the amenities tourists have come to expect from a Vegas vacation, not to worry. We’ll just have to make a few modifications to meet our green standards. The go-go dancers, for example. Clearly, there are some decency standards in Vegas, so the outfits will have to cover their bikini lines. Hemp, I’m thinking, with acorn belly chains.

We’ll have an ample supply of fresh water with a state-of-the-art urine recycler. Stations on the strip for all the drunks to pee into, combined with the toilets inside Greenbacks, should give us plenty to work with. It might even work with the cow's blood! We could have rovers working inside the casino, too, with portable pee recyclers on their backs, and then they could just pee on demand, and dispense fresh water for the gamblers. I’m on the fence about solid waste- whether we should have composting toilets, or collect it and turn it into fertilizer all in one place. I’m interested in your opinions, so let me know what you think!

Just like all the other casinos, we’ll have tours to all the important sites. Rickshaws will run every hour to the Goodwill. Six-seaters will probably be big enough because there will be so much else to do, what with the butchering and all. A full tour schedule is available on request. Reserve your trip now; spots will fill up fast!

Vegas is all kinds of awesome, especially the giant margaritas that come out of a slushy machine

You all know I went to Vegas with Helen, right? It was a fantastic trip and I was all happy and squishy inside until I came home and my cat got run over. We are already planning a trip for next year and I'm definitely not going to have that happen again- I'll probably just kill all the pets in advance this time. So, here are the highlights, in no particular order but saving the best for last:

We saw Rita Rudner's show; she is VERY funny, and her show was nice and early so we had plenty of time to get a couple of giant margaritas that come out of a slushy machine and still go to bed by 10.

The Bodies exhibit was really interesting and not gross at all, though it definitely had that potential. There were whole bodies as well as separate parts, and I was amazed by the scale of some of them- the spinal column was so huge it looked like it wouldn't even fit inside someone, even if you used a crowbar, while the uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes were so teeny that the whole assembly would fit in your cupped hand. Also, don't smoke. The smoker's lungs look like grilled cheese sandwiches that were charred because the chef was drinking beer and reading blogs and forgot about them. Not that I would know. We went in the morning, leaving the entire afternoon free for giant margaritas that come out of a slushy machine.

Then, lunch at the Crown and Anchor, an authentic British pub. I was pretty skeptical about the authenticity, but Helen assures me it's as close to the real thing as you can get. I'm not sure how much time she spent in pubs, since she left there when she was nine, but I'll take her word for it. It was too early for beers, and they didn't have one of those awesome margarita slushy machines. Probably not authentic enough. WHATEVER.

We hit the Bellagio for fine art and botanical gardens; very nice. I'm a fan, but again, no margarita slushy machine. The art gallery was nice and small, just about the right size to look at a tolerable amount of art and act all pretentious without actually getting too bored. They had all the good stuff too- Picasso, Degas, Renoir, and a giant one of a guy's head done by a guy that lives about ten miles from me. It sort of looks like one in my sister's living room, only hers has a bunch of eyeballs all over it. That probably makes it WAY more valuable.

And last, but definitely not least, the Las Vegas thrift store! We rode the city bus past the gun store, which has a giant billboard that says you can try a real machine gun. That was super tempting, but we stayed on the bus. And we were glad we did; the Las Vegas Goodwill was outstanding! It was jam-packed with good stuff, and it was 50% off day. For 13.98, I got three pairs of pants, two shirts, and two VHS tapes. Helen controlled herself a little better than me, but believe you me, she was IMPRESSED.

And that's the Vegas report, until next year!

Back

I know, I know! I've been gone a lot. But now I'm back. We just got back from a family adventure to Eastern Washington. We stayed at the Sun Lakes Resort near Dry Falls, a spectacular spot to check out some of the most interesting geology on the planet. If you are ever in the area, you should definitely stop.

I can also highly recommend the small town of Ephrata. I'm not really sure what it's known for, but it has at least five thrift stores and two used bookstores right on the main drag. I got some awesome cowboy boots to replace the motorcycle boots I lost in the great Osan mold epidemic and some crystal glasses. Of course, I already have water stains on the boots and one of the glasses broke, but that just means I need to schedule another trip really soon.

And, I was really surprised to see the Wild Horse Wind Farm right off I-90. The turbines are HUGE, taller than the Statue of Liberty. They are still under construction and we saw several trucks hauling one superlong blade each. I used to drive that route a lot but I guess it's been ten years or so since I've been there and I had no idea the wind farm existed. It supplies power to 55,000 homes, isn't that great? I know some people think they're ugly but I thought it was gorgeous.

We are still working on figuring out what we're doing so I might be sporadic for a while. We're moving house sometime this week to another temporary location but are hoping we will have a real plan soon. We are getting a little weary of living out of suitcases but we are big fans of retirement; I don't want to scare anyone off. More soon, I have tons of deep thoughts to share!

In which I make excuses

So. Yeah. I KNOW! But now I'm back from 'vacation' and have a jillion posts swirling around in my head, which can't possibly end well, as we all know.

Some potential upcoming topics include: unsolicited diet tips and why my pants don't fit, how much hard work it is for me for Lloyd to find a job, what a pain in the ass it is never being able to find my favorite underwear because everything currently in my possession is strewn all over amongst 37 suitcases, how much I hate the state of Louisiana, how many beers are required each day to banish the trauma of lengthy visits with the relatives, why my two-year old can distinguish a canoe from a kayak at fifty feet but can't count to three, and a dip into the hellpool of my high school years.

As an aside, the only reason the high school hell is on the topic list is because my mother forced me to go through all my junk at her house and I found a bunch of old letters that are painful and hilarious at the same time. Some of them are from people I barely remember, so I don't even have anyone to taunt on Facebook. I might post them anonymously on here just because it seems so wasteful to recycle them where no one can appreciate them except some stupid trees that would otherwise get chopped down so teenagers can write more ridiculous letters to each other. Except for I suppose they don't really do that anymore, do they? I sort of wish I had the ones I wrote back, but it's probably better that I don't. The mortification factor is reduced that way. Oh no, now I have an idea! I'll post a few later on, and if you have something similar that you want to share, send it to me and I'll post it anonymously so we can all enjoy it without you or any of your former friends being humiliated.

Moving on, I just can't decide what to write about first, so I am overwhelmed, frustrated and confused. This may result in an increased beer requirement, which in turn makes my (bigger) pants not fit, which requires more beer. It's a vicious cycle, can't you see? HELP ME.