Little details

I don't know to whom the nest belonged, but most of the outcroppings have these little eroded nooks for use by whomever thinks he is capable of living in them. I couldn't find myself a nook that would suit my needs, that's why I came home.


I call this one "Half-self portrait". You could also call it "A Dream of silence". I like the way my arms are reflected in the sunglasses.

Pueblo ReRuins

I was a little disappointed to read that the Pueblo ruins were a reconstruction. I thought about how a time machine could have fixed everything, but then I decided that the State Historical Society was a time machine.

The Steele homestead (or not)*

I started here. (Not my day, but my trek to see the old homestead). Homesteaders were pretty amazing people. I would add a little fearless because all that I can think of seeing this at the top of a hill is : tornado fodder. There aren't stairs most of the way up.

I arrived here with a note to myself to take better care of my body, and a reminder not to grab yuccas when your feet start to slip.


The inside was lined with benches. I don't think that the Steele's lived with them in their house, but I didn't have a tour guide so I can't be certain.

* I don't really think that this is a homestead, but maybe something built more recently for visitors. It did seem really odd, but after reading the site about the park I think this isn't really anything historic, which makes the Steeles seem like much more sensible people. They did a nice job making it feel rustic. It is one of my failings to just explain things in my mind and accept those explanations as truth. I suppose you should be warned about me.

"Be kind to her in your cave"

My mythology knowledge is pretty soft. Any thoughts on what "Athinian cave" is located in a wooded area (seems tranquil) and inside is a monster/horror of some type, tongueless? This line may or may not have some significance: "Little snake, little snake, what a pretty pair/ We make". I was reading a Kenneth Patchen poem and it refers to this cave throughout. Anyway there are bad, bad things in the cave, but I feel like I'm just guessing about which cave it is.

Lilacs out of the dead land

Morning...

Noon...

Evening.

I'm awake and I'm writing

It's wet outside with a light dusting of snow. I suppose I'll have to get used to the idea if the forecasters know anything about the rest of the day. I had another accident at work this week. I'm not trying to hurt myself I'm just clumsy, especially when I have the large travel mug filled with hot coffee and I take off the safety lid so that it will cool off a little bit faster. Fortunately I had cleaned off my desk last week and so the only thing that got ruined was a business card which I only use to give out the fax number at the office. A statute book is also permanently stained. When I fell down the stairs at work I was going to refill an empty coffee mug, so I guess the conclusion is that coffee drinking can be dangerous. I learned during that fall that emptiness is not always what it seems in that I still spilled coffee on the wall even though the mug was "empty". I learned this time that the safety lid is there for my protection and I shouldn't blithely throw off those things which are designed for my benefit.

Easter was a sleepy day. I went to church at 7:45, ate breakfast at my parents' house and napped under an electric blanket. I was awakened by a niece who wanted to give me an old driver's licence which expired in 2000 (I was wearing my dad's flannel shirt and my earrings didn't match in the picture). I read a book called "The World's Great Letters". It was published in 1940 and was a book my mom had given to me a long time ago which I had left behind without having really read much of it. Now that I've read a lot of the book, it has come home with me. The book contained letters from Edgar Allen Poe about his drinking, a letter from Lenin regarding Stalin's leadership abilities and a letter from Thomas Mann about being stripped of his academic credentials from the University of Bonn during the Nazi rise to power. Slightly anti-social of me to spend so much of the day reading, but it felt like a real day off because of it. I did go out and roast marshmallows at one point, but the wind was bitter.

The desert I made was a success in spite of my attmepts to sabatoge it during its creation (I spilled half of the crust on the floor, and went ahead and made "Awesome Easter Desert" with a spotty crust). The day I shopped for ingredients I bought vitamin E tablets to sqeeze onto the dry patch on my face. I realized after applying it a couple of times that the awful smell was unusual and that it came from the fish oil that was added to these tablets. I guess I didn't read the bottle very well in the store.

That's all, I think I have time to do some reading before I have to go to work and do the things that I do.

Little Gidding

My mother wanted me to find her this poem so that she could read the whole thing. A portion of it was used in a forward to a book that she is reading.

hard freeze in april

Little tulips I know how you feel.

Good Friday

As usual I am working today. Here are some links to read today.
And a song since we've been talking about Johnny.
Any other suggestions for reading today?

repeating sugar and tangerines

The server is down at the office. One of the things that is working on my computer is the disc player, which I favor over my unreliable little portable thing (sometimes when I hit play it says NO DISC... there is a disc to play, I think maybe it doesn't really like music). Today I put in The Wallflowers Bringing Down the Horse. I love that cd, but I got stuck on "Josephine". I probably listened to it 20 times today. It seems a peculiar thing that sometimes I get stuck just wanting to listen to one song, but I suppose that's how #1's and Your Hit Parade works. So I was pondering my other repeat songs. It happens a lot to me because you can just hit repeat with cds. (I probably need to upgrade to an MP3 player, but I am technologically inept and have reached the stage in my adulthood where nothing makes sense that's new... a little early maybe?). Anyway, for my enjoyment I made a list. I know that I'm missing a bunch, but sometimes a list can be too long and I think I could spend a long time on this one.

1. "Three Ways" The Wallflowers (simple, true)
2. "Bad" U2 (lyrics that spin your head a little, but comfort)
3. "Fake Plastic Trees" Radiohead (happily, it doesn't fit right now, but there were times when it was perfect)
4. "When the Man Comes Around" Johnny Cash (literal interpretation of Revelation... it's just cool)
5. "Back of Your Hand" Dwight Yoakam (Sad, just stinking sad)
6. "Hard to Get" Rich Mullins (Every song on the Jesus Record has been on repeat at least once, the demo tracks of course)
7. "Reflecting Light" Sam Phillips ("the moon's never seen me before")
8. "Relapse" Adam Again (Spooky sad. )
9. "Gun" Uncle Tupelo ("my heart it was a gun, but it's unloaded now")
10. "Stone" Adam Again (sad... didn't realize they'd get two. I didn't even mention "Worldwide" or "River on Fire")
11. "Here You Come Again" Dolly Parton (Hee hee hee, but it's true)
12. "Moonshadow" Cat Stevens ("did it take long to find me?")
13. "Road to Ensenada" Lyle Lovett (I can hardly listen to the rest of the cd because I always want to hear that one, and it's a great cd).
14. "How Good it can Get" The Wallflowers (i've spent so much time wondering how good it can get)

I just reread it and it's an odd little list. Obviously my repeats can be a bit influenced by melancholy.

Intersecting

I've been reading a book that I bought a few months ago. I purchased it because Scott Russell Sanders was an author that did a reading when I was in college and I visited with him for awhile about writing and a sense of place at a reception afterwards held at my professor's house. He writes personal essays and was also a reading assignment when I was in college. As our final paper in that class, "the environment and american literature", we were to choose one of the authors we had read during the semester and write a creative piece in the style of the author we chose. I chose Sanders and wrote a personal essay (I recall being happy with the final product). I wrote about driving home during my last spring break of college.

Back in college I was reading Writing from the Center. Today I am reading Hunting for Hope (which isn't really a new book, just a recent purchase). There is a lovely intersection between what I wrote in college and what I am reading today. I wrote about stopping my car just before turning into the driveway at the farm. It was dark, maybe 11:00 or 12:00 at night and it was one of those nights when the number of stars seems to have quadrupled. I looked up to find the Comet Hyakutake. That was in the Spring of 1996. In the book I'm reading Sanders talks about seeing that same comet only where he was living there was a Spring snow storm. Kansas was in the grips of a severe drought and accompanying spring warmth. I wonder if you remember that comet.

P.S. I watched Children of Men this weekend. Very grim, but you should watch it. It reminds you of how precious life. Every life is as precious as the one in the movie, and if you don't believe that then atrocities are acceptable.

Gluing things down

I was trying to explain my compulsive collage creations to a friend last night and I thought that I ought to just post one because they don't really make sense. I wouldn't call them works of art, merely a tactile outlet. This one consists mainly of junk mail and trash that I was throwing away plus a couple of pieces from my stash of things previously cut from magazines. I completed it while watching Eternal Sunshine (etc). Mindless ripping and gluing are pleasant.

In other news, I recently read a book which was purchased on a whim at an outing to Target (by the way, did you know that some couples go to Target on Saturday nights... it is a sad state of affairs where I'm living): The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo. It's a children's novella with themes which won't be comprehended by children and which are aimed at adults, particularly me at this moment in my life, but a nice story for the tykes nonetheless. It's about a toy rabbit, and in some ways the opposite of The Velveteen Rabbit. It doesn't explain the pervasive use of rabbit's in children's literature. I, of course, was a teddy bear kind of child, but I do remember one lop eared toy rabbit and a rabbit poster. My teddy bear would never have behaved like Edward Tulane, though he did have a miraculous journey to Winfield one time. Once again, thank you to my brother Chris for rescuing him from the clutches of hotel staff.

Don't look at me

He didn't want to have his picture taken. I don't want mine taken either. Alas, we have no cultural mores that allow us that luxury. I'm not sure why it is that there are times that we want to look away. Maybe the last few weeks have been too much for him, what with the new baby and the focus on the infant. He is fighting to find himself in the shuffle of changes. Or maybe it was just the end of a day at the zoo.

I went to the zoo Saturday with 3 nephews and 1 niece (there were other members of our party. I wouldn't have tried such an outing alone). I asked the nearly 2 year old niece if she could say flamingo. She answered "mingo". I asked the nearly 3 year old nephew (not J. who is pictured) if he could say flamingo. He answered "no" and then said "ask Bubba".

I've been thinking about the Grimke sisters today. I admired them so much when I read their writings in college. I'm thinking of whether I could have been like them, realizing that it would take a great deal of gumption, which I lack sometimes in my convictions. Sometimes it's good to revisit what we think and what it is that we don't let ourselves think.

NIT-- I'm going to enjoy it.

March 14 at 8:00 pm v. Vermont. We are a number 2 ... Air Force is number one in our bracket. If you look through the teams in the NIT you realize how tight the competition to get into the NCAA must have been. It should be a good tournament.

It's like they are stealing time

I trust that this day will be uneventful for all. So much for the mini-y2k or M11S (march 11 spring). Also, this first daylight saving day is cloudy-- why would I want to lengthen a cloudy day?

I tried to stay up an hour extra last night in order to keep the government from interfering with my Saturday night. I knew that the government would get their hour no matter what, so I decided if I stayed up late on my own those fat cats in Washington wouldn't actually have stolen one hour of sleep from me, but I would have stolen an hour myself and so we would be even. Somehow this morning the math isn't making sense and truthfully I fell asleep early because I'm not really good at staying up late.

My computer knows exactly what time it is, but as expected some electronics like the mechanical face-dial clock in my house is an hour behind. Actually it isn't surprising, it did that during the last time change. I blame the computer programmers for not even trying with the clock.

On Friday I got to work on time. I think maybe the sunrise was perfect for me waking on my own. Oh well. Everyone is humored at my frenzied arrivals.

Finally I am very sorry to those of you who are having a 23 hour birthday. It's totally not fair.

Haysy

I went to Hays this weekend to see a friend's exhibit. The graphics art department was displaying some of their work. The first pic is of random onlookers discussing the show. The poster and the product display are examples of Jen's work. Betsy came with me and we concluded that hers were the best. Most of the onlookers pictured agreed.

Breaking News

I liked how this article pretended like people flying over fly over country are interested somehow in the topography of Kansas.

"Honey look, there's a riverbed down there, but there doesn't appear to be any water."
Flipping his atlas to Kansas, "Well, this is where the Arkansas River should be. What the heck? What's this? There's water again, it's almost like there are two rivers. What shall we do when we get back home to Connecticut?"
"I don't know, dear. The chick who is dictating my dialogue knows absolutely nothing about our state except that it seems like rich people live there and commute to New York. So what we'll do when we get there is beyond her scope."
"Yes, the dictator is mocking a Kansas newspaper through the dialogue about how people flying over would be concerned about the state of a river all the while knowing that easterners, honestly the entire country, know so little about the Plains that the hypothetical concern in the article is inconceivable. Yet the mocking author can't really develop us, her characters, because of her ignorance about the east. Has the drink tray gone by? I want a bloody mary."

No one here is awake yet

I slept on the couch at Matt and Betsy's last night. If you've never been to their house, they have huge east windows and the couch is facing directly toward them. As long as you don't hate the sunshine it isn't bad, but you have to accept that the sun will wake you. It did. The sky was full of light for a little while. Dawn, orange, blazed. Then the shelf of clouds came and there was still a fiery dawning orange just below the shelf of clouds, but the clouds were too thick and where they met the sky the light just stopped. I closed my eyes and slept a little more and when I woke up the shelf was gone and the sun was gone and the sky was nothing but clouds again. Sleeping there is a bit like having a TV tuned to one show :"Good Morning Sunshine". As repetitive as the dawn is, every morning is a little bit different.

It's the first time I've slept on their couch in months. It's a sign of how my life has changed and sleeping here last night is another sign of how it is changing again.

In other news, I have a new name from a child: "Lala". It's very sweet. Makes me miss the old ones: Elllch, Da, Yinda, Dida. Though Dida is still in use.

Vanilla L

I've wanted to start a new poem in Villanelle form, but I haven't had time to hammer it out. We may have to try a summer edition of group poetry writing because my inspiration is so cold and snowy. (I'm a Kansan. I am from the High Plains. I miss the sun. I hate trying to live without the sun.) I feel like this is a sub par offering, but I hope that you can give it a try. Here's your first stanza:


The sky sags down to touch the ground (refrain 1) (rhyme A)
Weighed like a cedar bough heavy with snow (line 2) (rhyme B)
graying out the sun until it's not found (refrain 2) (rhyme A)

The next stanza should be:
Line 5 with rhyme A
Line 6 rhyme B
The sky sags down to touch the ground

I look forward to reading what comes next. You can tell me later if you find this form difficult. (I sort of did. And hopefully, someone is still reading since I haven't been very faithful in writing).

Again

3 to 4 inches of new snow today.

At noon when I arrived home I realized that my sidewalk was passable after a month of being frozen and icy. At 5 when I left the office I spent ten minutes cleaning the snow off of my car.

I've missed you so much!

It was a good weekend to be a wildcat. Welcome back basketball.

Omenowen

I discovered evidence today about a theory I have been pondering unseriously for some time now. I consider myself more a student of luck than actual practitioner, so this is very amateur and I haven't found any conclusive answerss; so please do not adjust your superstitions based on my observations.

The thing that I have pondered (mostly because of the black stray cat that lives near the courthouse) is whether the cat causes the bad luck or whether it is his job to scurry in front of people in order to warn them of impending unluckiness. Today as I was walking back from court Omen, the resident stray black cat, was walking next to me. He was in the street, I was on the sidewalk. As we walked I quickened my pace to discourage Omen from crossing in front of me. He quickened his pace, matching mine as though it were his mission to stay with me. He did this in spite of oncoming cars. I decided to go even faster, but the cat sped up too. Alas, I was impeded by the icy sidewalk which was clear up until the trees. I had to slow down. As I slowed down, Omen hopped the curb and scampered right in front of me. Anyway, I'll let you know what comes of it.

As far as my theory goes, this seems to indicate that the cat crossings are not random, but planned ahead of time. (I know some of you are worried about my eternal soul, but really, I've been delivered from not joking about these things).

In other cat news, Omen has a counterpart. I haven't concluded whether he is good luck or not, but I feel he must be a harbinger of the positive. He looks like a black cat from a profile angle, but head-on he has a large white spot under his chin. I've decided to call him "Owen" being only slightly different from Omen , but not his opposite (if he were a white cat his name would be "Nemo" of course).

I'm already late, I might as well write down some random thoughts.

Is anyone else excited about the spoof possibilities offered by the Beach Boys' song Kokomo and Obama running for president?

I'm wearing a t-shirt and a sweater today. I noticed my t-shirt was on backwards so I fixed that and then I looked in the mirror and now my sweater is on backwards, but my t-shirt is on forward, should I call in sick?

There is still snow on the ground. I'm very confused about where I am living. Where is my 70 degree day? Where is my snowfall that melts off in two days?

Does anyone know where my brown belt is? I'm substituting a brown scarf today, but would really like my belt. It say "LINDA" on the back... though no man has ever sang "Redneck Girl" to me.

Also just for everyone's edification, a spoon will work as a shoehorn in a pinch.

Readings for the sake of reading

This post is for those of you needing a poetry fix. Mark Jarman put this list together and if I had done it, I might have thought to put a couple of his on it. He was easily my favorite poet that did a reading when I was in college.

Over There

I was in Kansas City this weekend. I actually went as a tourist which was really different. I went to a few museums including the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and the World War I Museum. As those of you who know me with any degree of depth, I may never have chosen of my own volition to visit these stops(being a closet history-hater and a non-baseball fan) , but I must admit that both were worth the trip (and maybe history is a little cool and baseball is little fun). Sometimes life is more interesting when there is someone travelling with you suggesting activities you would never have thought of doing.

At the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum I discovered that there were many other men who played in the Negro Leagues besides Satchel Paige (though he still is pretty amazing, I think he's even more amazing after the museum). The whole league seemed more fun than what is going on now, but of course, I live in a different time. I especailly loved the idea of these teams just playing whoever. That said, segregation is just ugly, and so the present is preferable .

At the Liberty Memorial, I found out that there were many causes that precipitated World War I besides the shooting of an archduke who has most recently lent his name to a band. I was reminded of the historical importance of the Lusitania which honestly I hadn't thought about since my junior year of high school. There was a lot of talk about monarchy, empires and nationalism which seemed to be much more important in the war than the actual Austrian archduke. I guess I am poorly educated, but I learned so much. If you ever decide to go, eat first, and plan on it taking a solid half day if not longer (there did seem to be an indication that a restaurant would be added which would make it a lot more palatable).

Powerless

Craziness. In case you hadn't guessed, there are still a lot of people without power around here.

slippers and signs

I have been reminded of some important things today... like that stocking feet on the linoleum stairs to my basement may result in slip and fall-- not the good kind where you collect $1 million. The backs of my calves are bruised, my hand is sore, my back muscle is pulled and I was late to work, all because I failed to put on slippers this morning.

The courthouse is sporting new no gun signs showing a gun with a red slash running through it. Hooray, the conceal and carry law went into effect! I had almost forgotten, but I think we can now use the outdoor ashtrays as a drop off spot for the guns since no one can smoke within 100 feet of the courthouse now. You can't smoke within 100 feet, but you can carry your gun right up to the front door. Hopefully I'll get used to the signs, but right now it just makes me wonder who the signs are targeting.

Resolved: that newness should co-exist with oldness

It's time for something. New year, new number, new date. The old has escaped the present to its eternal abode in memory. Though everyone should know my holidays, the last 3 weeks, have been full of new that became old (or "auld" in honor of the day). Newness becomes passe with each second passing and now will repeat itself ad infinitum. (Unless of course time truly ceases to exist, but for now I am trapped in its straight line continuum without a Deloreon or a flux capacitor). So, the girl of 2006 is now the girl of 2007. She is mind-bogglingly decisive. I am going to attempt a poem everyday again, which I've tried before, but I've already succeeded today. I am going to face myself and examine my path.

Sorry for the vagueness (imagine trying to live your life with this kind of vague mind everyday! It's a wonder I accomplish anything). Sorry that there are no pictures, JEO.

Happy Holidays, especially you Linda Jean

I added another number to my yearly count this week. Hence, the change in the "about me" portion that referred vaguely to my age. My birthday was full, especially my stomach. I kissed some man fixing to ride off on a horse in Oklahoma and I ate at the Olive Garden in Wichita. I ate spaghetti at marg's house on the actual date and Pho Hoa that evening. Tuesday I ate at an office luncheon at a local radio station which the staff referred to as a "holiday party". I think it was called that so as not to offend me and include my birthday as part of the celebration (though I was not offered a White Elephant which makes me think the party was not really for my birthday). I ate cabbage rolls that evening at the farm along with pink peppermint cake. For birthday week today I went to Super Pollo which had a political message on the wall which loosely translated said something like "protecting the rights of the foreigner is peace" which loosely reworked in my mind means "peace for your birthday holiday season." I thought that was very sweet of the them and the pollo torta was so yummy. I haven't eaten my birthday week supper tonight on account of still being full and feeling sick. My headache spread to my body this afternoon. The big event for Wednesday of birthday week is that it rained tree limbs in my yard (It may inspire a new song-- "I'm dreaming of a barky birthday"). I hope you continue to enjoy the holiday season. Birthday season ends on Friday.

I need new pants for Christmas.

Advent Stirs

I watched The Nativity today. I enjoyed the movie, but I did find the music distracting. Yet, it is amazing the number of songs written for this event. It seems that every year I feel as though I've missed singing one of my favorite carols during the season. We did sing What Child is This? at church today which was nice. The second verse makes me cry starting with "the silent word is pleading". I love how song can express the deep treasure of Christmas. There are so many of them that can bring me to tears, expressing something I do not focus on daily, but without which I would not want to face each day.

O Holy Night -- And in his name all oppression shall cease.
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel -- that mourns in lonely exile until the Son of God appear
I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day --God is not dead nor doth he sleep.
We Three Kings --Guide us to thy perfect light
Joy to the World -- No more let sins and sorrows grow... He comes to make his blessing flow far as the curse is found. (I love every word of this one).

P.S. I did take my links from cyberhymnal which plays the song in that computery tone (which probably has some technical name, so you might want to turn down the volume if that annoys you. However, they do a good job listing the complete verses).
I'm certain there are many more that I could cite as example, but you get the idea. What lines have I omitted?

Thumbing my way to Tuesday

I don't understand what this day has against me. We had never met before and yet from the moment that my alarm went off and 7 more times after that in 9 minute intervals, the day had it in for me and especially my thumbs. There was no breakfast food in my fridge or my cupboard. When I arrived at the office at my usual time which to everyone else is 20 minutes late, I had to wait for the coffee to finish brewing before I left for court. I gathered my files and cut my left thumb on a file. No, not the paper inside the file, the actual file. It was deep. It was wide. It required a bandage. Then, the 9 o'clock court hearing decided not to come. At lunch I ordered a chicken fried chicken salad which is what I always get. Sometimes the chicken is warmer than I like at this restaurant, but today, it was piping hot with melted cheese on top. The waitress insisted that the salad always comes this way and in the interest of not being poisoned, I did not send the salad back. It was yucky and I was hungry. This afternoon included a paper cut to my right thumb. This evening I cut my right thumb on the razor edge of the parchment paper which I was using for baking cookies. I read the cookie exchange instructions wrong, or, more accurately, I stopped reading them after the first sentence. So I didn't bring enough plates of cookies for everyone. So good-bye Monday. My thumbs will be better off without you.


Ode to my Thumb
Oh thumb, thou art opposable
you are the appendage envy
of every mammal.
I prick thee, I split thee
Yet thou art still holding
my pen, purse, popsicle,
for me and my needing.
Thumb, you are thumbthing special!

haiku hiatus (haikutus)

I have nothing to post, but since my poets seem to be growing tired of the haiku I will make another offering. I note that one reader suggested that we avoid the epic poem, but the sonnet, the sestina, the ode, free verse, and any other form you are interested in for your self-expression is available. Do you think you are ready to write the next stanza in sestina form?:

I pretend that it is a much deeper snow
So that walking on the mundane sidewalk
Is less a quickly cleared and salted town
And more a prairie pioneer trial
Instead of white gloves and a black coat
I am fighting the wind, headed for the barn

Anyway, it would be really sad if the poem never ends.

Thanksgiving Haiku

Uncooked pecan pie
gooey on the kitchen floor
spilling from the shell.

Tumbleweedy

I got these e-mailed to me at work today... these are pictures from the edge of town, but, alas, I can't tell you who took them.

Tilt-a-tumbling tumbleweed

Last night I think I ran over no less than 50 tumbleweeds on my way to and from the farm. It was hard during the daylight not to be distracted by the ones in the sandhills breaking free of the sagebrush and fence. The night drive was bad in a different way because there were critter-like bodies darting out in front me the whole drive home. Thank God deer don't role or there would have been no way to tell the difference. It would be kind of funny if ferrets climbed into the inside of the tumbleweed for a thrill ride. (Yes, supposedly ferrets aren't found in my county, but I saw a dead one last year near the county line, which isn't exactly evidence that they live in my county, but it does create the inference that there was one living recently). Maybe field mice would have an easier go of it. Tumbleweeds are the tilt-a-whirl at the rodent carnival. It explains how the tumbleweeds hang on to the fence and then seem to rock back and forth until they break free. The mice are on the inside of the tumbleweed and create the rocking motion with their weight which eventually rocks the tumbleweed off of the fence and into the open spaces of the highway where all the parties involved may or may not get hit by my car.

Blogger Extra

Jedediah Smith

As many of you are aware, I am in love with the redwood forest. Which is sort of like real romantic love because I say silly things like "I never thought I could feel this way about a forest" and "I never saw myself loving a forest because all of the other forests have disappointed me." When I visit Jeanette we go to the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park in Northern California. (The name (alas) makes me think of the Simpsons. ) As with all of my journeys to the Redwoods I discuss the visit a Judge here because he is also a fan. During our most recent "Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park" conversation, he disclosed some very interesting information about Jedediah, the forest's namesake. He actually passed away in Grant County and there is an historical marker at the side of the road. It sounds like a good Explorer Extra that I'll have to try.

Jesus' love of Kansas's prairies is inspiring

A legal issue that affects* us all. (not really).

*yes that is an edit.

vacae photos

Away

Travelling tomorrow. I will be absent from Kansas until next week and visiting my dear loved ones in Oregon. I hopefully will get to visit my trees and say hello to them and give kisses to the baby. I'll be certain to whisper your name in forest so that he will remember you. I'll let the little family I'm visiting know that you miss them too.

If I knew you were coming I'd have bought a cake

I figured out that cooking makes me feel like I'm heading toward an inevitable Lucy Ricardo moment. I tried to cook a simple soup recipe this Sunday for myself because I actually felt like cooking a meal. I got home with the ingredients I needed and realized that I didn't read the recipe all the way and that I actually needed 3 zucchini instead of 1. So I tried to compensate by using less of everything which worked out fine.

Then I got out the blender because the recipe required that everything be pureed. As I was pulling the blender down from the cabinet, I remembered my last cooking experience where I became a 30 minute episode heading for a climax in fiasco. I had used my blender to make hummus (remember the tahini quest? The tahini is at the health food store) and it quit working with about half of the chick peas properly mashed and so I had to use a spatula and mash the rest as best as I could. I thought about eating it without the benefit of puree, but it didn't really seem right (not that I would "know" right from wrong with regard to a cooking project, it was just a gut instinct).

I drove to Target and realized that my head was pounding and that I felt nauseated. Yep, I hadn't eaten breakfast and it was almost 2 pm. So I bought a new blender and resisted the urge to stop at Taco Bell on the way home. I pureed. The soup was ok. Rather anti-climactic for the time I invested and wooziness.

At the end of this meal I realized I had a storage problem. Where do I put the soup? I had to puree in about 3 batches and I had no tupperware that size. Everyday Food said it should be stored in an airtight container (don't question the recipe--obey), but I only found one old frozen blueberries plastic tub and for some reason I didn't have any more containers (I suspect that I have given some food away recently in my other tubs).

Frustrated, I went to Walgreens (it's closer than Target-- about 7 blocks from my house) and looked for new containers. I was unhappy with their selection and remembered a pitcher I had purchased this summer with a twist top (one of those summery looking things that makes you want to make sun tea). I thought, "that would be great!" So I went back home empty handed and searched for my summer pitcher, but could not locate the silly thing. (If anyone remembers what happened to it let me know. The last thing I remember it holding was sangria).

What was left sits airtightish in my fridge in the blender pitcher it was pureed in. Anyway, if you would like a helping of zucchini curry soup or whatever it is stop by. I cannot possibly eat that much soup on my own.

99 red balloons-- ok one pink balloon

I walked downtown this morning to marketfest, a newish festival intended to bring people downtown though the activities sort of offset whatever benefit the downtown merchants hoped to receive. The wind is at about 30 mph today and steady so the outdoor activities were difficult and sometimes littering was out of your hands. I walked back home after meeting up with family and eating bierocks (they weren't nearly as good as the one's I had a whimmydiddle in Scott City last weekend, but oh well. I think I may have eaten bierocks 3 weekends in a row because the weekend before that was Oktoberfest. 1st goes to Scott City's NW KS cook 2nd to the Knights of Columbus and 3rd to the GC Mennonites). I took a pink balloon and walked back home. I had been wondering about the joy the helium-filled balloons seemed to give to the kids. By the time I got home I had remembered a little bit about what is so fun about them. It's like a little companion that stays with you as long as you hold on tight and that wants to run away to play at the same time. Pinky danced in the wind the whole walk home and gave me cheery tug after the mean dog barked at me. Hope everyone is enjoying fall, I am.

It's not in aisle 12

I hear that some people like grocery shopping. I'm usually in a state of paranoia, convinced that I am being mocked by the people watching through the bubble ceiling cameras because I've walked down the same aisle at least 10 times. Some of the passes I pick up new items some I don't, but there continues to be an item that I am convinced is located in this aisle that isn't, but I can't really think of where else it could be. Tahini/sesame seed paste. Where is it?

A group of lawyers get sick at a party...

After a bout with some sort of food poisoning, I've survived today and now am only slightly queasy. Many attorneys in town were sick after the county bar's barbeque this weekend. I can't help but think that there is some sort of joke in there, but I'm too close to the situation to come up with one being both a lawyer and a victim of food poisoning.
So I spent the day at home and read a little bit from the novel I am Charlotte Simmons (I am not recommending the book to anyone since it is pretty offensive, but it is a fascinating topic and has so much to say about our culture). After that I felt inclined to pick up Kierkegaard after taking a long rest from his writings. His distinctions are really interesting, but I'm never quite certain that I agree with his assessment as to the impacts of his hair-splitting observations. (Jesus was God-man or Jesus was a man and was God and the contradiction is what makes his life a sign. It all goes back to living your life as a contemporary with Christ...). That said it's pretty fun to have to think on that level and engage my mind in that way.
In an unrelated matter, I found a link for Jim. It plays the tune for many, many hymns and may come in handy if we ever decide to have an evening of hymn singing again.

Saturday morning adulthood is being shoved down my throat

Saturday morning. Where are the cartoons? NBC is playing golf. Local ABC has taken over with a morning news program and the educational cartoons of pbs and the religious programming of tbn are a little too mind-numbingly boring, and although I am slightly amused by Sonic the Hedgehog, most of the fox cartoons are a little yicky. They moved Kim Possible and I have no idea what time she's on anymore. What am I supposed to do while I eat my lucky charms? This has been a problem for me for awhile now. The quality of the cartoons has been in a steady descent for years now. Remember Recess? What happened to Fillmore? Cable is the answer, but how can anyone justify cable just to watch cartoons. Anyway, any Loony Toons collection would be greatly appreciated at Christmas time. I'd also like the Batman cartoons from the 90s and the X-Men cartoons from the 90s too. I'm not sure if Fillmore is available, but that would be cool to have.

I also went to see Clay Jenkinson this week. He is a Thomas Jefferson impersenator. There were only four of us legal types that I saw at the event and the Judge said "I guess we're the only ones interested in the Constitution." If you ever have the opportunity, he is worth seeing.

Wind-swept

The wind finally blew in today. Today was a grab-your-clothes-as-you-walk day (that might be a little too feminine for everyone to understand, but believe me it was necessary in a skirt). It's like everything good was floating in the air and finally decided to hurry itself along. I always thought the sunshine was my favorite and it still might be, but the wind really makes me feel like I'm home. I wish they could get together one of these afternoons before my chances at a hot wind are over for the year. I'm not really sure why the wind becomes a comfort. It stings with dust and sand sometimes, but there are not very many things nicer than walking straight into it and feeling your clothes billowing in back of you. The way you can't really hear anything except the whistling in your ears is like silence only musical. Fighting with the wind is a struggle, but it let's you win most of the time. Don't ever forget that it lets you win. The wind was just with me today when I walked outside, it felt a lot like not being alone.

Laryngitis

Sorry I haven't written lately. I've lost my voice. I finished At the Back of the North Wind, but I won't tell you about except that it's a good read and made me feel joyful despite the subject. You should read it, though it's interesting to think of it as a children's story since the subject matter is so, well, heavy. That's all for tonight, I'll try to write more when I've found my voice again.

Just an empty cookie

This weekend I received an empty fortune cookie. That's right, all that there was to enjoy was the sweet cookie. I've been wondering what that could mean. It seems rather ominous to have no innocuous cookie message saying something vague about anything. Of course, I don't actually believe in the fortunes, but not getting one really bothered me. After pondering the obvious scary possibilities, it dawned on me that perhaps my future was too dull to even warrant comment. Writing "tomorrow will be much like today" seemed rather ridiculous so they skipped inserting this cookie with a fortune altogether. Another option occurred to me. My future path is so tenuous and unsteady at this moment that any hint in any direction would thwart its full fruition and the cookie chose not to get involved. I liked this one best, though truly I suppose someone just forgot.

So how does one become a fortune cookie writer, because I think I would be really good at it? I would never write universal advice, I would write actual fortunes.

• "Look up before you step outside tomorrow morning, though there will be nothing you can do"
• "Green will figure prominently in a chance encounter should you so choose."
• "Wear socks on Friday, you will thank me later."
• "Tomorrow will be much the same as today."
• "When you hear people laughing today and fear they are laughing at you, they are."

It's pretty fun. Why don't you try a few?

Tomato plant conversation and why you shouldn't be jealous that people comment on my blog

Last night I was talking to tomato while picking two new red ones. He is the first garden plant I've tried in a pot and was put there because I couldn't figure out where to put a garden in my yard, but also couldn't conceive of summer without some fresh tomatoes. As my neighbor quipped "enjoying our Colorado weather?", I was asking the tomato plant if he had enjoyed the rain. He seemed to say that it was nice, but he really missed the sun. "Me too," I said. The weather guy said that we should see the sunshine today, tomato and I can't take another cloudy day. We've had 4 or 5 in a row, which may not seem like a lot unless you are from a sunny place and then it seems like the world is ending only it feels that way in your soul and you aren't sure why until you look up to say hi to your favorite and he isn't there.

My other conversation last night was with an automated man at United Airlines. To my plea " I want to speak to a human being" he would answer , "you would like to depart from Midland, Texas".

I talked to my sister on the phone for a little while and I went to Bible Study where I succeeded at not talking. Sometimes it's for the best. The ladies did get into a "Left Behind" discussion about the books. Sigh...

My teddy Bear and I read a little out of "At the Back of the North Wind" which we had stopped reading for a little while due to anniversary fatigue, but it was beautiful last night and my teddy bear thought that the voice inside the drunk which was the voice of the great love who had created him and which sounded like misery to him and on Mt Sinai like thunder and to St. John like blessedness was lovely and sad, to the point that I had tears. Teddy bears don't cry.

Tumblin' Tumbleweed

I think this was the best year I've had a Tumbleweed Festival. This is why: I stayed there almost the entire time. I enjoyed a variety of musical styles including a ragtime band (I'm not sure that I've actually ever heard of a ragtime band let alone gotten to just listen) and Edgar Cruz (I think I saw him in college). The skies were cloudy all day yesterday (very out of character on the range) which made things a little chilly, but today the sun came out and I bought two cds which I even had autographed (Brad Cotter and Harvey Reid & Joyce Anderson) . (what a funny thing that is. i always feel weird getting autographs, but when there isn't a line and the artist is willing, it seems like you ought to. i guess it is a nice excuse to say hello and thank you). (The one bad part was the 5 minute errand that took an hour). (ok 10 minute errand that took 45 minutes, it was on saturday and included getting a sweatshirt). The strange thing about Tumbleweed is that there are people who don't go. I paid $7 and personally heard about 7 hours of live music and my drive time to the park was about 5 minutes. I could have listened to a lot more too. Hooray for small town music festivals.

For Pluto

(though we've never actually met)

you are not
what we have named you
too small, though for a time
you were numbered
among the very large
9 of 9
who am i to diminish you?
larger than me
circling beyond my scope

you were styrofoam
you were paper mache

(excommunicated
though the heretics
will forever count you)

you are still what you were
orbital, celestial
you are my planetary heart
confusing and distant, exactly
what you were before
they called you names.

Accidents happen, but should they happen in pun?

The saddest thing about a blog is that people read it. The saddest thing about a diary is that no one reads it.

So I was recently mocked for my version of the Pete and Repeat joke. How does it go?

Also this has been in mind lately and I thought it might be a nice thing to be on someone else's mind as well. No reason, but Art in the Park was this weekend. There was no sculpture for sale, but I did buy some pottery.

Pluto Pacifica

It's nice to know that so many are fighting for Clyde Tombaugh's discovery to keep its status (you know Clyde Tombaugh of Burdett, Kansas discoverer of Pluto). It's funny that people want to argue the definition of a planet, but perhaps arguing over the definition is sort of a fun thing since its all semantics and doesn't change anything. Maybe the change in the solar system's named planetary makeup will be more important than the US switch to the metric system or the killer bees (which according to the papers this summer have illegally crossed the US border from Mexico after years of threats. Why didn't border patrol stop them?) I'm sure the change in our solar system's named planets is also making big news in the Weekly Reader as did the bees.

I learned something else today that changes nothing. After reading about a lost at sea fisherman who was rescued between the Marshall Islands and Kiribati, I couldn't remember ever hearing of Kiribati. Kiribati is an island chain/group near the Marshall Islands and Tuvalu. Christmas Island is among its geography and sounds slightly familiar though I can't tell you why. So, just in case you start dreaming that you're in a national geography bee which for some reason is the only way for you to save the world from the evil clutches of Sir Hateful, your long-time villain nemesis, you will know that answer to "what island nation are the Christmas Islands governed under?" is Kiribati.

One more thing. Yahoo music has been pushing Ollabelle on me for a month. Yahoo is right, they do match my genre preference. Anyway, everybody should give them a listen to see if they might also match their genre preference.

List from girl who never uses lists except as a time saving writing tool to avoid transitions.

We were missing Luke in this picture, but this is my teriffic family. lobiwan and mllr have more pictures of the anniversary festivities.



I don't really have a camera so a picture filled blog doesn't follow. The reception for the 50th wedding anniversary went off without any trouble. The music was good and the slides were fun. Mom and Dad seemed to enjoy the event and it was a nice moment, sublime in fact. The fam sans Luke headed for Colorado. My personal highlights were:

1. Getting to see Jonathan. He lives too far away.
2. Joanna in the swimming pool. She is a free spirit.
3. Whitewater rafting and amusing each other along the way. My boat was Drew, Lainey, Joanna, Margaret, Betsy and Matthew. Drew should never be lead paddle.
4. Talking to Mark. I really like him and I don't get to talk to him often enough.
5. Hanging out by the pond. I had Cephas, Jairus and Anna crawling on me with my toes in the water. It's great to be loved. I also recognized Lydia and Lainey at a distance before anyone else did (2 skinny, pretty girls. Who else could it be?).
6. Spencer and Levi in the back of the car playing some dog computer game. Spencer and Levi fishing, Spencer and Levi... again and again.
7. Taking Cephas to the emergency room with Shannon wasn't a good highlight, but a highlight just the same. I wore a lead apron and coaxed Cephas to sit up straight since Shannon is pregnant so that they could take x-rays of the little guy. Mary drove to Colorado Springs with us so that I would have someone to ride back with me. Cephas spent rest of the vacation in the hospital and I missed out on helping Jim make the fam sing hyms after supper.
8. One more bad highlight-- Drew's piano playing.
9. Florissant Fossil Beds. There are these petrified redwood stumps in Colorado and the trails lead through a beautiful mountain meadow. We listened to a lecture on volcanic ash, algae, and climate change. When the ranger asked questions, Kathryn got every answer right. I got to talk soils with dad. Ruth, Michael, Michaella, Jeanette, Eric, Jonathan, and Dad let me read the tour book for the stops along the trail (ok they weren't given a choice).
10. Crags trail. Good hiking fun. Jonathan on the baby backpack behind Eric was sweet asleep or awake. Michael drove there, Margaret backseat drove and Drew criticized. Ahhh, family! The drive there was less than 15 minutes from where we were staying. During the hike Christian found a cave and the rest of the crew (meaning people under 21) followed. The views were beautiful and the thin air was fun to breathe.
11. Finney praying for his dad at supper when Robert went to the emergency room. Mom of course said her most famous line "why don't we pray right now". They never figured out what was wrong with Robert, but he was in a lot of pain. Mary's vacation away from the hospital didn't really pan out. The next day Robert joined the family and so I think God was listening.
12. Nerd games. Played with Michael, Eric, Jeanette and Chris. Eric won.
13. Cripple Creek. Dad and I spent $2 in the slots with Spencer, Levi, Lydia and Lauren staring from the outside. And the pistachio gelato was delicious.
14. Driving home with Joanna, Drew, and Spencer. We eventually read Mere Christianity aloud since that was what Drew was reading. It was great.

Writing it all down makes me remember that I didn't get to spend enough time with everyone, but that is the nature of the Disco. I think we all had a long, long list.

Listless

I've been working on lists lately in preparation for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Like on Saturday:

1. Pick up cake
2. pick up flowers
3. check on reception set-up
4. buy new shoes

Also, when feeling a great deal of stress avoid:

1. Calvinism
2. Kansas Board of Education
3. Traffic Court
4. Wal-Mart

I've discovered a new stress symptom. It's the last one on a list that I haven't added to since law school:

1. sour stomach
2. back acne
3. neck acne
4. scalp acne
5. sleeplessness
6. counting your steps (seriously I've taken a little over 5000 steps today, 5320. Did I buy a pedometer? No I've just started counting for fun.)

The original life long list of men never to date (not that I've had the opportunity to exclude anyone lately):

1. jayhawks
2. vegetarians
3. luxury sedan owners
4. non-voters
5. atheists

Finally next week:

1. Relax
2. be happy
3. enjoy your family

An uncool view

This is my view this week just for some contrast to lobiwan's view.

I bought Raul Malo's new cd. I broke my boycott on Hastings once again. So much for one girl's attempt to change the world through an unspoken protest. The cd is mostly remakes that make you feel like you should be slow dancing. Not really a necessary feeling, but it's not a bad feeling either. I had to request assistance from my junior high science teacher who works part time at the store in order to locate the cd. She still makes me feel stupid when I talk to her.

• "You're looking for who?"
• "Raul Malo's cd".
• "Never heard of him. What kind of music is that?"
• "I don't know. Maybe country or pop".
• "Is he new?"
• "Not really"
• She types into the computer. "Oh, he's rock". She sighs.

I know. I'm still not cool. You don't have to still be exasperated about kids not being cool. We're not at school. Your computer is an idiot by the way.

Thinking about language and books

I've had no recent adventures except a regular week. Regular weeks are a little tiresome. After a trial with a Somalian traffic infractioner, I looked up languages of Somalia and it seems that the infractioner and his friend were mostly likely speaking Somali. Everyone mocked me at the office when I asked what language was spoken in Somalia. I don't know everything.

I've also been pondering literature that has been tagged as questionable. I remember reading Catcher in the Rye during the STD pep assembly my senior year of high school (ok there was no cheering). Frankly, I was pretty thankful for that book and having something to focus on other than the enlarged photos on the slide show. I read Brave New World, Catch-22, The Fountainhead, Slaughterhouse 5, and so many others which ought to be banned by certain criterion. I am so glad that I read those questionable books. Restricting the human mind is the beginning of destroying the creative spirit. Who would I be without the creative? Some ideas may be distasteful, but I know what I believe is solid because it's been exposed to other ideas of how the world should work. I read some Jean Paul Sartre last year and I disagree with everything he believes, but what a lovely time I had letting him challenge me. Maybe some wayward high schooler will be aroused out of his mental slumber by these controversial books. People who only enjoy them for the salacious material are perhaps a lost cause already, and they wouldn't read David Copperfield even if it were assigned.

I try not to be controversial and I hope what I said isn't very. Some days I think being a Christian is just about fighting for my right to think. I know it isn't, but golly, a lot church types believe not thinking is faith.

Clerks 2 got great reviews

We went to see Lady in the Water last night. I loved it. It's almost comical the way this movie was panned. It adds to the story. If you read the reviews they are griping about the very things that the movie was intentionally doing as though no movie should ever intentionally do these things. It does have a quality of being made up as it goes along. This is what makes it genuine as a bed time story. The movie itself warns you along the way that you have to be little kid to listen to the story. You have to let go of your expectations of what a story should or should not be before it begins. "Once upon a time there was a very good man who was sad and lonely because he missed his family. One day he finds a beautiful girl. The beautiful girl was scared and so the very good man decides to help her." Maybe I'm just an M. Night fan and everything he does is good. Here's the thing about being an M. Night fan, hardly anyone makes anything because it's "good" anymore and for some reason he is. There is a wholesomeness to his movies that is authentic. You never have to pretend that the main character is good like you do in so many other movies. Anyway, you may not like the movie either, but I thought I ought to defend it since I enjoyed it.

I won't turn up my radio too loud.

I'm trying to make a fun summer mix cd. Any suggestions? I'm really trying to make something not country and not melancholy. It's a little tough considering my musical preferences.

Vague and Melancholy

It seems like a lot of things have happened this week, some not really blog appropriate, but I feel sort of edgy because of it all. The temperatures just melt your cares and fuse them together into a more connected and powerful mass. I've felt like an observer and never a participant--good considering one of my observations was a drunk driver running a stop sign at about 60 mph into a long gully of sand. Last Thursday my dui trial pled out and I was so aware of myself that I can tell you my thoughts for almost every moment of that day. This Thursday, today, I was so unaware of my thoughts. It's strange how losing yourself is such a better moment to be in than those moments when all you do is think about what you're saying and what everything means. I hope this weekend is a lot of nothing. I hope it's not too hot. I hope I don't get that much done. I hope that I'm not alone all weekend. I hope that I don't have to see a bunch of people.

Yet, Friday has its requirements. Evidence: What will show the voluntariness of this moment?

Linda afraid this study might not be a scam.

A recent study suggests that asthma might be related to swimming pool chlorine.
Allergies and asthma are so closely that I'm afraid I may have to consider this one. I remember on several occasions the chlorine at the indoor pool being so strong it burned your eyes when you walked into the room. I just thought you recent parents might be interested in it.

Exploring because it's the only way to eat good pancakes

I haven't written about our adventure to Lucas from last weekend which was part of my first Kansas Explorers' Gathering. The trip there included:

• Eating breakfast at Judy's in Jetmore which has "spill over the plate pancakes" which don't actually spill over the plate which was the fear of Betsy the Explorer. It was a tiny restaurant was filled with regulars discussing prices and rain, but we still felt very welcome. And hot pancakes are always wonderful.
• The 75 lb raven's nest made entirely of barbed wire at the barbed wire museum in Lacrosse.
• Highway 232 north of I-70. It's a scenic by-way and I concur.

Actually being there consisted of a potluck picnic, my niece being photographed like she was Britney and feeling like a VIP having arrived with Abby, Betsy's sister. Abby picked all the drawings including next year's gathering location which will be NE Kansas. Highlights from Lucas, Kansas included:

• Flying Pig Gallery-- Whimsical ceramic art with other typically wingless animals flying about with wings.
• The Grassroots Art Gallery-- Honestly, I think that I'm never going to be a big fan of grassroots art, but it was fun to see the wackiness all in one place. The guy who has all the political statement art made out of welded pieces of old machinery on Hwy 50 west of Mullinville had a little display in there. It was funny because I usually speed up to avoid reading any of it, but it's hard to scamper through an art gallery like that. I did enjoy the pull tab motorcycle and the motion machines from the man in Manhattan. The courtyard connected to it was lovely.
• The Deeble House-- I'm not sure how to describe this except to steal from Marci Penner's book and call it "jaw dropping". Mri Pilar's art is in the house and I think I missed a rock garden.
• Tea at Nancy Jo's-- That was a stop at her house to see her snowdome collection and have a glass of tea, and her hospitality was certainly a good highlight.
• The Garden of Eden-- I remember looking at it from the outside with Shauna once. It was nice to take the tour. I wasn't nearly as spooked by the whole place this time. Our tour guide really cared about S.P. Dinsmoor, its creator, and so it made everything a little more human and not just a series of scary concrete statues.

The trip home included a stop in Victoria at St. Fidelis Church which is awe-inspiring. The vision it must have required to take on an endeavor so grand is humbling.

It was a successful trip. We spent money and enjoyed the journey to a strange little town with lots of strange offerings. It was an interesting, ordinary day in Kansas.

But the DA said he was the one

This morning on the way to the dui trial (which plead out at 8:15, trial to begin at 9:00) I listened to "Hurricane" by Bob Dylan. Glad it was just DUI today. (I don't have time for more than one song on my drive. Maybe I shouldn't be driving).

Cash, DUI, Feminine Misogyny, and Cursing

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"You Jack Me, I Jack You Up"

So Matthew and I went to see a screening of a movie called Jack's Law. No need to tell you about the movie, but these are the cute shoes I wore to the screening and Matthew anticipating Jack's Law. We were very bored waiting for the movie to start. Apparently the big wig movie star below, Danny Trejo, was booked on the silly local flight to GC that first lands in Liberal. ( I hate those double landings. Although the double landing flights have been the only flights that have caused me to clutch the barf bag and that is an important experience.)


After the movie Danny Trejo answered questions from the audience. The director also asked for criticism which was a pointless request to make of this smallish town audience. As a whole, publicly criticizing anything is foreign and mostly everyone said things like, "that was neat how you made a movie". The cowboy-hatted man in front of me also wore a silver star. I think he might be the law or maybe just one of the Jack's Law Posse. He asked a lot of questions and made a lot of comments. The girl sitting next to him had a number of colors in her hair, none of which seemed to have been place there by God.

This is a picture of me with a famous girl I've never heard of. I enjoyed being told by the director to take my picture with her because she was a famous movie star. I am not sure that he knows what the word famous means. Although, I think it's very nice that she is getting to make movies, and that she convinced the director to film Jack's Law 2 in Elkhart. I especially like that I look better than she does in the picture since as a movie star it is her job to look better than regular people. She was ludicrously skinny so she is doing a good job at that part of her job. Maybe we should have to see all of the skinny actresses in real life because I think we would give $0.10 a day to sponsor meals for them. Hope you enjoyed the low quality pics, one day I'll own a camera other then my cell phone.
PS Did you know that my keyboard does not have a cent sign? I hate inflation.
PPS Please comment on the previous post and the songs... I just had time today on account of our nation's independence to write on the blog.
BTW These events occurred several weeks ago... I was reminded last night that I needed to blog about it.

The band in my head is taking requests

Have you ever been driving listening to a random classic country cd and wondering if God was speaking to you through Lynn Anderson? I think it means that I'm tired, but "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden" should never cross your mind as being a message from the Almighty. Any suggestions for a good old country song to go through my head tomorrow that will make me feel like God is on my team?

Warning

Raul Malo has a new album on July 25, 2006. Whoever rides in the car with me to Colorado has been warned.

David Trotwood Copperfield

I feel like I've made peace with Dickens. I only half read a Tale of Two Cities in high school and though I enjoyed Hard Times I still feel like I read it in an attempt to be like my big sister. I finished reading Copperfield last night and I cried and was sad to say good-bye to the characters just as David seemed to be a little sad the book was ending. Charles Dickens is so preachy about how the world should work, but I have to agree with him about so many things. He was even hard on his narrator. As he should have been. It does seem like Copperfield has a greater number of life lessons to teach than A Tale of Two Cities, but I guess it's shorter and so that's what the high schoolers get to read. Although I have no Trotwood in my life I do feel a kindred heart with Agnes. Or maybe I wish someone believed in my heart the way everyone believed in Agnes's. I am going to miss everyone. I love reading without a deadline.

Mickey

I just finished writing a sympathy card to a woman I used to work with. Her husband was an attorney who passed away last Friday too young. There is nothing good to say. I've been thinking about him and how nice it always was to see them together. I liked hearing him talk about her because it was so easy to see he loved her. Sorrow is the risk for all great love. After you subtract the sorrow, the net worth of love is joy.
Jesus taught us all about that.

K Demon Laughs at Time

(This is my first attempt to add a picture to the blog). I went exploring in Finney County today in search of a vague memory from junior high and a field trip where we stopped to look at a headstone with a laughing demon. This headstone appears at the head of a circle of 4 other stones. The others have names on them apparently of people who died on the Civilian Conservation Corps project which is to the southwest of this site. It's a dam with limestone rock and a "lake" which rarely, if ever, fills with water. The missing part of this stone says "to those who served camp kinney". If anyone has any alternate descriptions for the head on top of the marker I would be happy to hear about them. Although, the head seems strangely appropriate, an alternative explanation might be more comforting.

I was thinking with wonder later about the joy of discovery. Pondering how many other people had discovered this spot and how many people had known about it all along. It reminded me in a strange way of going to New York City. There are so many people who live there, and there are so many times that I've seen the places in movies and TV. Yet, the act of going there myself and riding the subway, seeing the Metropolitan Museum of Art, walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, created a newness for those places that existed only for me and only in that moment. In some ways every moment is different even if you're doing the exact same thing with a 20 year span of time between the two visits.

For all of you who love hearing my name in song

I found one I had never heard! I'm so happy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRf_pl6pkB0&search=blue+hearts

Lacking the usual rah-rah

I was in Wichita Monday and Tuesday for conference. Skipping out on the Tuesday afternoon session yielded a much clearer mind and a better view about returning to work. Lunch and shoe shopping with my sister seemed far more important than the appellate court update (I received the handout and will be able to read it without the droning voices). This year's conference lacked a lot of the usual "rah-rah" of the previous conferences. Someone may have realized that no one is fooled: we are a boring lot, and that's why we are in this profession.

Driving there and back again wasn't too bad. The trip is still fairly short. The trip home began with Daniel Amos, followed by Bob Dylan. Groove Armada was playing as I turned off the highway to search out a church on the NRHP. I switched to Brennen Leigh before I stopped at the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Windthorst which is directly east of Wright, Kansas and definitely in SW Kansas. I felt like a real Kansas Explorer. I will have to go back when I have more time. We usually think of the great Catholic Churches being in NW Kansas, but I thought this one was on par with them. It was red brick, so it looked different, but the steeple could be seen for miles rising from the plain. The stained glass was amazing and came from Munich, Germany. As always, I was proud of my German Catholic heritage and a little sad to not still be a part of that church. Alas, I do not have a camera to share this site with you, but my Kansas Explorers Guide was great fun to have in my passenger seat, and I would recommend it to you on your next cross state trip or even across county.

I saw a lot of combines and too many windmills to count, but I knew I was getting close to home when I really saw the windmills turning in the wind.

Defunct truism attempts to reestablish former status

I had lived for years with the helpful truism that "whatever you think won't happen". My best friend and I in high school made a habit of thinking of the worse case scenario in order to prevent it from happening. However, a couple of years ago the truism failed me and I relegated it to superstition status. So with regard to yesterday's fight, there was none. In fact I think the whole issue is out of my hands. I'm not ready to begin using it as true, but I may try it out about some upcoming events.

Posting for posting's sake

I'm in grave danger (ok it's not grave) of being on time to work. It's Friday. Temps should be in the 100s by this afternoon. I'm letting my flowers get some water this morning before I leave and so they need me to tarry at home, right? I have a delicious 2nd cup of coffee. It's some sort of cinnamon flavor, way better than work coffee so I need to finish it before I go too. So it's important that no one see me at 8 am. They haven't all week. I'm theorizing that the long days which means short nights are making me miss sleep. We're getting about 8 hours of darkness and if I'm not asleep as soon as it's dark, I'm afraid my sleep is suffering because although I stay in bed after the sun rises, whatever sleep I get is fitful.

Thanks for letting me nervously jabber for a minute. I have a feeling that I'm going to have to fight for something today at work and I hate fighting. There are so few things which compel me to dig in my heels (I'm talking about my dress shoes. Imagine digging in brown faux alligator skin heels, just for fun), but this is going to be one of them.

I feel sorrow for Dr. Faustus

This is a very weird subject to broach, but I'm very curious. I was conversing with some people about the idea of hell. The interesting thing that came out during the conversation was how seriously both of them had thought about themselves being headed for hell. What occurred to me is that I personally have never thought of myself as going to hell. I'm not sure if that makes me less cultivated in my faith or not. There are so many Christians who believe scaring people with hell is the best way to bring people to Jesus and I've never been in that camp, but maybe that's because of me not considering it with reference to myself. The call of the question here is whether any of you really thought that way or if there are others like me that try as you might, consider the idea and dismiss it. I don't want to have a conversation about hell, just about whether you considered yourself a potential citizen and what effect that had on you. Although if no one wants to tell me that's ok... It is a strangely personal question.

FAUSTUS. How comes it then that thou art out of hell?

MEPHASTOPHILIS. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.

Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God,

And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,

Am not tormented with ten thousand hells

In being deprived of everlasting bliss!

--Christopher Marlowe's Dr. Faustus

Happy 06/06/06

This article has several chuckling points regarding the number and this day.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/5051540.stm

I smell gas

Life has rushed through another week, though more eventful than most. I met my youngest nephew and he left as sweetly as he arrived. Visits are never long enough and there is always the impending doom of the ending. I guess I shouldn't be so melodramatic about it, but that's how I feel. I wish distance was easier, but I think of my ancestors and I shouldn't complain.

I learned an important lesson today in church. I am not able to make several batches of cookies with junior high students in the time allotted for Sunday School. In my defense, it wasn't my idea. I was the substitute and this was my simple task. Perhaps the elders walking through the kitchen slowed me down with their bits of advice. Maybe it was that the convection oven was too technologically advanced. I missed service because the cookies were finally pulled out of the oven just as I had to tell the kids to get. So I spent church time waiting for cookies to cool, doing dishes, throwing away the burned ones and cleaning up. It was completed with a long note to Megan (the usual instructor) about the sad state of the cookies I was leaving her to deliver to the transient shelter house. The best part of Sunday School was when the man tried to show me how to use the convection oven and I pointed out the overwhelming smell of gas. He reached up and turned on the fan...