Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Love me, love my Chacos

For a birthday about 6 years ago, my parents bought me a new pair of Chacos to replace a pair that a certain furry baby (named Ellie) annihilated in a fit of orneriness.

Since then, those Chacos have seen a lot of stuff.

A lot of pretty places...
A lot of good friends...
A lot of water...frozen and not...

A lot of rocks...
A few bad decisions...
A little bit of mud...
A bit of buffalo blood...
And their share of archaeological sites (obviously)

After 6 years, I thought hey...maybe they need a little break.

So Happy 8 Days to My Birthday to me...

Sunday, August 28, 2011

It is a truth universally acknowledged ...

That romance novels kill brain cells.

A few years ago for the Miles City Book Club, we read a book called Jane Austen Ruined My Life by Beth Pattillo. I cannot remember the particulars of the book, except that it is all about a woman who basically runs away to London after her marriage ends, her reputation is ruined, she loses her job, and runs out of money...all in search of some artifact of Jane Austen's life that will help her regain all of her happiness. It is, as I recall, an adventure that eventually ends Happily Ever After, though not in the arms of some dashing Mr. Darcy impersonator.

I confess to loving Jane Austen's works. I confess further to loving them in their Hollywood portrayals, the best of course, being those starring Colin Firth. I pop in a DVD when I am in low spirits, and viola...happy place found. I confess even further that I have not read any of Jane's books since high school. I know. Please don't hate me, Lizzie.

Yesterday I stumbled upon my copy of Pride and Prejudice. Since it is so freaking hot here this weekend, I decided that minimal movement is in order and that rereading this beloved story is most definitely the best choice for forgetting all that is vexing me today. Yes, G, I am still looking at your materials...just not as fun when they stick to my sweating fingers. Anyway....

Unfortunately, being now a divorced woman of nine and twenty, to my horror I am rereading this epitome of romance with different eyes. Jaded, disbelieving eyes!

I have found in only the first 1/3 of the book:

1). I am sad to report that in Jane Austen's world, I would be totally and utterly screwed. Even if I were not divorced, I would already be considered a Spinster Aunt. Do pass me my smelling salts, Sister. And Sister, by the way, I would probably be living with you.

2). The quest for a husband appears to much more intriguing than marriage itself. Perhaps this is actually what Jane was trying to critique about her own society, since the majority of her characters, except of course the main heroines, are all predatory women hell bent on securing their futures with any man who would dance with them. And that is not a euphemism. It really is just dancing. Bummer.

3). Jane Austen is jaded too! I was delighted to read a very sarcastic paragraph penned by Miss Austen, a conversation between Elizabeth Bennett and her best friend, Charlotte Lucas:
"... Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation, and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life. " IS that what I did wrong??!! IS there any point in dating? IS this why arranged marriages and mail order spouses seem to work??!! MR. DARCY HAS DEFECTS?!?!

Instead of suspending all belief and immersing myself in a good story, I am being cynical! The SHAME!

Help! How do I get from this:
....to a much more pleasing state of careless euphoria like this!??!

When did all my brain cells grow back?

my life ruining Jane Austen??!!

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Oh Bother

I hope this morning's coffee fiasco is just because I was sleepy, and not because I am starting to lose my mind as a result of my age.

Not sure what you are looking at, besides my dirty coffee pot? Well, that would be the pot of coffee I made...without any coffee. Its still in the grinder on the other side of the pot.

Friday, August 26, 2011

13 days and counting down...

Holy crap.

I am quickly, QUICKLY! approaching my second 29th birthday. I am FREAKING out just a little bit. How could I not? I am divorced, childless, and once again, most of my belongings are crammed in boxes. Which means I am about to be homeless again. The only thing of value I don't own in conjunction with a bank is a washer and dryer.

Yeah, the next 13 days are going to be full of whining, which I may or may not word vomit on my blog. I'm going to try to come to terms with this in the best way possible...which will probably involve large quantities of adult beverages. And possibly very long hikes in a hairshirt. It is probably a good thing I do not wear makeup or you might see mascara tracks filling the lines in my prematurely aging face skin.

I know, I know. I am going to be fine. My thirties will be so freaking awesome I will want to relive them again. Blah blah blah. Yadda yadda yadda. Let me feel sorry for myself. At least for 13 more days.

Monday, August 22, 2011


I feel a bit like this. I wonder if all the little ones enjoyed singing "Shut Up!" because I did!

Friday, August 12, 2011

Boom Boom Boom

My little cousin is all grown up and about to make some big changes in her life.

Good luck, Albrey. You'll be great!

Firework by Katy Perry

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

32 and counting....

Happy Anniversary to my Mom and Dad.

Kissy-face and smacky mouth in public? Still???!!!

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Gone Pishin'

I've already mentioned before about life, lemons and vodka. But I think I should probably add this mantra to the list: "A bad day fishing beats....sitting around moping and feeling sorry for yourself."

When one is commemorating a day, however superstitious it might be to still commemorate that day, sometimes the best person to have around is your dad.

Dad and Jake (Ellie's Dad) came up on Thursday for a weekend of fishing. We went to South Lake outside of Bishop, in hopes of catching some of the purported eight pound trout.
Dad had never been to a Sierra lake before, which made it even more special for me to take him there.

It was a bit frustrating, since we didn't catch anything but malaria or possibly West Nile Virus. But that's not the point of fishing with your dad, right?
Thanks for coming, Dad. It meant a lot to have you here. Next time we'll catch something. Or not. Whatever.

All the romance of trout fishing exists in the mind of the angler and is in no way shared by the fish.
Harold F. Blaisdell, The Philosophical Fisherman, 1969

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Closer to...

I didn't think I would be here six years ago. Its been a really rough ride.

But hey, I'm getting there.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Where the wind does some really bad stuff to the Plains...

A few weeks ago, Mom and I went back to Oklahoma to see what we could do to help get Grandma Babe's life back in order. We saw what was left of the parts of Joplin she called home. She was very lucky compared to so many people. We are so thankful she is safe, and even if her new place is not exactly as luxurious as we want it to be for her, we are glad she is back in Joplin where she wants to be.

I hope that our trip there helped in her healing process.

They say that laughter is the best medicine.

Setting things on fire helps too...
Smiling is good for heartache.
Learning something is always a good thing, especially when you have a great teacher...

Thanks for all you did to help Grandma, Jeannie. And for letting us hang out with you for a week. (And getting me further addicted to fiber arts...)