Bookfest Week

Just a reminder...it's Bookfest weekend and if you can get to Flagstaff, you should come! Great writers (Dorothy Allison, Tim Seibles, Sean Carswell, Todd Taylor, Christine Granados, Greg Pape, me, and many more), excellent panels (Twain, Wilde, and Who is This Jon Stewart Fellow?), and fun until you just can't stand it anymore. Check out our website nazbookfest.com and get over here. Mention this ad and I'll buy you a beer. Psych.

Picture(less)

(I've really had a thing lately for parenthesis)

I have pictures in my head that I need to get on the computer but I can't find a plug-in on the computer for that (or on my head).

You know how sometimes you do something that you really set out NOT wanting to do? And then afterwards you're really glad you did it? And you really had an okay time? Yesterday, Jay was off school. I had six billion things to do. I knew he wanted to go fishing. But I DID NOT HAVE TIME TO FISH. After running around all morning, doing errands and dropping off checks and making phone calls, we made it home around lunch. I was all ready to get into unpacking more boxes and Swiffering the floor when I looked at him in the living room, a little dejected on his day off from school.

"Get your tackle box and pole together" I said, "let's go fish." He was ready in 49 seconds and we were heading out. I should have taken my camera. But all I could think about was coming home in an hour or so.

Then, suddenly, we were sitting on the ground at Lake Mary and Jay was deciding whether he should use a spinner or a bobber, and I was listening to the sound water makes when it hits the shore. I looked down the edge of the water about 30 feet and there was a Great Blue Heron! Just hanging out, waiting for fish to fly in its mouth. It was so beautiful. That's my first camera-less picture. Water sparkly in the background, a tall bird, feathered bluish and grayish. Long, thin yellow beak and several white feathers protruding from the top of his head, drooping slightly toward the back. The sky in the background is the color of wind. Spindly legs the same color as the beak. One eye watching. (Can you see him?) Black feathers near the eyes. His "s" shaped neck is silky and is the part you most want to reach out and touch. He's not perfect, his feathers slick in some places, shaggy in others, and there's an odd ruffle part way down his back. It looks like a bird cow-lick. His beak is scratched in two places; it looks like someone used a brillo pad to clean off some fish residue. His expression is perfect. Wary, watchful, calm. Yes, wary and calm at the same time. He is not looking at the camera, but slightly side view, head turned more toward us than away. That's the picture. In the video, he slowly opens his large angel wings and lifts off from the water, his bird feet suddenly emerging, his neck straightening out, all grace and flight. You can hear the wings flap, like a whisper by your ear, and he glides over to the other shore, landing in the reeds to peruse the fish availability over there.

Now we've been there an hour. I've been alternately reading a book (Trash, by Dorothy Allison) and taking the errant weeds off Jay's hook. I'm the official hook "de-weeder" on this outing. No fish have been caught. The man 60 feet down the shore has caught 30. Really. Jay just keeps reeling in weeds. But he's good. He's casting it out, reeling it in. He likes this. He's rather have two trout on his stringer but we're learning patience in fishing.

I stand and walk a few feet up the shore. I look down. Here's the other picture. A weed. Large, the size of a milk carton. Partially in the water. It's stems are papery, with a few dime sized, sand colored flowers here and there, dried and dead. In the center of the plant are several brilliant green leafy pieces. They are growing straight up the middle. Then, you notice the orange. Tiny droplets of bright orange. Ladybugs. Twenty-seven. Doing lady bug business. Some are almost red. Some are nearly pastel. Most are identical beautiful orange. Black spots everywhere. Tiny black heads. Even tinier peeks of ladybug legs. Because it's a picture, they are all frozen in place, but you can tell some are moving about by the way a few are slightly blurred. They are their own little lady bug world. The brown stems at the water's surface are darker and look a bit slimy. They sit on the water like small strands of tissue paper. The water itself is brackish but still reflective. The ladybugs are about the size of those little pink erasers that are stuck on the tops of pencils. In the picture, some are bigger, close-up. You can even see the barely brownish ring that separates the orange background from the black dot. There is a corner of the picture that is the mud of the shore. It has speckles of black and brown and gray everywhere. It looks thick, almost clay-like. In the video, the lady bugs keep moving, busy and mindless on their temporary thatched home.

We fish for 2 hours. Well, Jay fishes, I read and take mind pictures. It's an good day. We also get irritated and tired. It's windy and the sun squints my eyes too much. Jay's line gets caught on his last cast and we both are tired. He gets mad at the pole, and I cut my finger on the line trying to get it uncaught. We get in the car and I muster up a good attitude. "That was fun, even though you didn't catch anything, we still saw some cool stuff. And you did get some bites. We'll come back in a few weeks." Jay musters up the good attitude too, to my immense happiness..."Yeah, that was fun. I love fishing."

Musical Blog

If there is music playing right now, it's because I have a play list at the bottom of my blog. I put some of my favs (Doesn't the word favs just make you cringe) on there for your listening pleasure. If you despise them, or just prefer to read my words in silence, you can turn it off. In my poetry class one semester, I had everyone make mixed CD's for each other as the midterm, hahaha, just kidding, of course I gave a real test. (Lyrics ARE poetry, btw) Anyway, it was so cool. I got introduced to scads of new music that I NEVER would have heard otherwise. Music is sort of like quotes...it can change your whole outlook, just one great song. Actually, thinking about it, it can also totally get you so far down it's like you're in a deep black hole. So, yeah for music!

Stan has a new dog door and as you can see, he is not pleased. He would prefer I jump up from the couch or sprint to the door every time he has to (as my mom would say) tinkle or explore bugs or hunt for the ball he hid fifteen minutes ago. It's a swanky one with two flaps and a tunnel thru the wall. I have to stick his head through it and push his little furry ass and then he's outside. He needs no help coming back in, of course. He'll get used to it.

I just made a big pot of coffee and it's 5:00 pm. I have so many boxes to put away and things to sort through from moving and I've been yawning all day. There's something so fun about drinking a pot of coffee and staying up until 2:00 am. Oh, wait, did I say fun? I meant to leave the n off and add something else :) I have gotten rid of so much crap, and cleaned and purged. Even after not buying clothes or ANY accoutrement to wear since June, my closet was stupid full. Cleaning house. I love it when the metaphor matches the action.

This move has been good, yet difficult at times. I have to say, again, I love my friends. They have stepped up for me and helped me move and listened and hung out and been there. So here's a quote for them.......

Perhaps the secret of living well is not in having all the
answers but in pursuing unanswerable questions in
good company.
--Rachel Naomi Remen

And another, just because I like it.

I found out that the things that hurt us the most can
become the fuel and the catalyst that propel us toward
our destiny. It will either make you bitter or it will
make you better.
-- T.D. Jakes

The Lost Week (end)

I moved. And it was time to get things cleaned up. I moved into a house I own but had moved out of two years ago. Then I moved back in. The carpet was yucky. The walls were smudged. It needed paint and a different floor and some real work. So, that's where I've been. It's weird, when something so takes over your life like moving. I let every other single thing, including e-mail, phone calls, Bookfest and poetry fall by the wayside. All I did was pack and paint and tear out carpet and throw things in big black trash bags labeled "kitchen" or "office." All I did was try and figure out, "is this mine or his" and "did I switch all the utilities?"

Mostly, I mention the moving thing because my cast of characters has changed and my scenery is different. Archie and Miss Helen did not move with us. And now I have a purple door. Things like that. I have made it a point to not EVER use this blog to write about relationships (of the romantic sort). I think too much usually gets said there (and you know what a private person I am hahaha) and I want my blog to be a place away from that. But here are a few insights on moving (on)...
1. There really is such a thing as too much alcohol (and I'm not talking about me).
2. It's good to have friends. It's even better to have friends that will help you move (You guys rock!).
3. If you can get it all done in one day, do it (even if all you want to do is sleep and your friends force you to finish it up).
4. When buying furniture, always ask for the floor model. You get a sweet discount (although you mustn't be bothered by scratches, nicks and a faulty door latch).
5. And finally, one of my favorite Zen quotes..."Fall down seven times, stand up eight" (Yeah).

Go Read a Book

This is a shameless plug for a wonderful event. The Northern Arizona Book Festival is coming to Flagstaff and it is gonna rock. We have some very cool writers who will be reading their work. We have a dance troupe (what a strange word, troupe. It's one of those words that when written down, just looks weird, misspelled, not quite right, but in your head it makes perfect sense), art, and interesting panels (yes, another. It's panels as in people sitting at long tables talking about stuff, not sections of walls). I'm having a little bit of word wonderment today. Ahem, moving on. If you can't make it to Flagstaff (for all my readers in Madagascar), please check out the authors and just read the books in whatever place you live. Dorothy Allison is wonderful (read Bastard Out of Carolina), and Tim Seibles is an awesome poet. (I'm also having a parentheses obsession) Finally, I have been trying for half an hour to get a picture of the poster on this blog and I have failed...so, go to this link and check it out. Oh, I'm reading too. For the Bookfest. At night. In a large auditorium.

And since I can't seem to get a picture of the poster up, I'm just going to put up this one I took of my front yard.

Oh, I'm just kidding (but if you were going to have pink flamingos in your yard, wouldn't you want it to look like THIS?)

Oh, I Get It

A friend sent me a correction on the origin of the zen quote I posted yesterday........

"Leap and the net will appear."
--from note pinned to saffron robe found floating in San Francisco Bay below Golden Gate Bridge.

I thought, what a beautiful image. I did not even get the joke
for an hour.
But when I did, boy, did I laugh.

Quotes of the Day(s)

Two quotes I saw today...

"Leap
and the net
will appear"
-- zen quote (of course)

"Never make someone a priority who considers you an option"
--anon website quote (but I like it)

And then here are a few more random ones that I've had for a while....

"You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the
concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace
before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming,
fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing, and grace before I dip the
pen in the ink."
G.K. Chesterton

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be
happy, practice compassion."
The Dalai Lama
From Chapter 9, Truthfulness

"Like the moon, come out from behind the clouds! Shine.
--The Buddha

I think quotes serve as little reminders of who we are
and what our direction is.


















And also, a picture I took
because, someday, in another life, I might want to
become a photographer.

Say Cheese

I put my picture on my profile. I've been sitting here for a flipping hour deciding which one, if any, to put on. The reason this one won out was mainly because I liked that I'm a little "left of center" in it and I AM. A little left of center. Plus it's the one in the back of my book. My son took it. I can look better, I can look worse, but it looks like how I FEEL. And now I feel like a total arrogant dork for WRITING about my picture. This all started earlier today. I was thinking how, when I read other people's blogs, I really like seeing who they are physically. Or at least how they would like to be seen physically. Some people have these great artistic photos, where they aren't quite smiling but they look very intriguing and cool. I didn't have one of those. Haha. And then some people have pictures of themselves brushing their teeth or standing there with their mouth open so wide you could land a plane in there, and THEY'RE so cool they don't even care. That ain't me either. When I started my blog last July, I decided I was never going to have my face on there, you know, maybe a picture of me riding a bike but I'm riding away instead of towards the camera. STUPID. And then I also remembered how, as a kid, I read all those Laura Ingalls Wilder books like Little House on the Prairie. And then when it became a show, none of those people looked like how I thought they were gonna look and it kind of pissed me off. So, considering the plethora of folks that entertain me with their pictures, I decided to join in.

(Five minutes pass while I try to figure how to redeem myself for WRITING about my picture. I see Li-Young Lee's book of poems on my table and turn it over to look at his picture. He has that cool and intriguing thing going. Damn. I thumb through the book looking for a poem on photos or self or perception but nothing fits. THEN, I find a poem I love, even though it doesn't fit with this post.)

And the moral of this story is....if writing about my own goofy picture ends with a poem by Li-Young Lee, I'm okay with that :)

One Heart
Look at the birds. Even flying
is born
out of nothing. The first sky
is inside you, open
at either end of day.
The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening
one heart to every falling thing.

Building Furniture

I have finished the top of my table. I still have some touch-up work and some shellacking to do. But essentially I'm now able to cart it around in the back of my car and make my friends look at it. I pull up in the parking lot of Target (did you realize that the symbol on the Target sign is an actual "target"?) or Starbucks and whip my table right out and say, *hey, look at this table I made.*

(If you click on the picture you should be able to read the quote)

Did I mention how much I love making furniture? Did I also mention that I realize not only will no one pay me to make furniture, but it does not come with health insurance benefits either? Maybe mental health insurance. The large circles were made with the bottom of a Coke can and the small circles were made with one of those plastic medicine cups for kids Motrin. When I'm painting or sanding or screwing the legs on, I just talk to myself like nobody's business. I get so flipping happy making furniture. It's never perfect. Thank god I'm not a perfectionist. The one thing I demand of myself is no drips. NO DRIPS. I'm very vigilant about that. But there are flaws...a teeny fleck of black on a green part, the top slightly skewed on the legs. I could never create something perfectly because it's just not possible for me. I'm absolutely someone who can never really wear white. Ten minutes in a white shirt, BAM, there is something marring up the whiteness. Fifteen minutes in white pants and I will have already sat on bubblegum. I'm just not programmed to do things meticulously.

I did not use the dremel on this table like I had planned. Actually, my initial vision was not at all the end result. That's another thing I like about it; in a weird way it's like writing a poem. I start with an idea, and then begin. The poem/table/chair takes off from there and kind of builds itself. I'm always surprised by what I have at the end.

Free Rice

I really love words. Some of my favorite words are pebble and marigold, for how they sound, hope and gratitude, for what they mean, and zigzag and zenith because they start with z. How come xerox sounds like it starts with a z? It should be zerox. BUT, the purpose for this post is to teach new words while also giving rice to hungry people. Check this out, free rice, and learn new words to spout around so folks will think you're a word zealot.

Glimpses

I think I talked to my dad on the phone yesterday.

For a week or so, I had been mulling over a post where I talked about the strange things we miss when people die. About how I've been missing having someone call me "hon". My dad used to call me that. He also called me sis and lovebug. I really miss those names but they're not really my name anymore.

So, anyway, I'd gotten a new laptop; a Macbook, and I really love it. I figured I'd need one for going to Kansas and I also like that it's on the kitchen breakfast bar for Jay. I'm a firm believer in supervised Internet action for kids. But, I had installed all kinds of stuff on it and it was soooo slow. I've had the darn thing for three months and already gunked it up. Augh! So I called Applecare and I got this very nice older man. It was so weird...not only did he speak my language, he even sounded like he was from Kansas! He was very patient and kind and helpful. He walked me through all this "hold down the C and push the power button... now, when the blue screen comes on, ......" computer speak. Finally, my computer was back to "fast" and I said thank you. He responded the usual " here's the case number if it happens again..." and then, as I was about to hang up, he said, "Take care, hon." and hung up. I immediately thought, Oh my gosh, I was just talking to my dad." It was wonderful, and true or not, made me feel so good.
I've been waiting four years for him to call me and he finally did :)

Frozen

There's this group of random people and they meet or connect cell phones, get instructions, and then do something weird. I read about it and then a friend (thanks Kate) sent me this video yesterday. That sounds like so much fun to me :) Here they are at Grand Central Station......

frozen

And yes, I do think this is art. Weird, senseless performance art

Veggies & Art

So, I joined the Flagstaff CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). Every Thursday afternoon I get to go pick up a couple bags of vegetables and fruit, grown in Arizona. Cool. It's not too expensive and it assures that I'll have healthy food in my house. This last Thursday we got spinach, green onions, beets, golden swiss chard, fennel, tat soi, oranges, and purple carrots. The carrots were yummy and tasted like regular carrots. The golden chard was beautiful but yucky. I fixed it up using a recipe that I got at the veggie pick-up area called Swiss Chard Tian. It had eggs and chard and onions and it was horrible. I guess some people like swiss chard. I'm not one of those people. Although the beauty of that chard, all brilliant yellow and green, was enough. All the food is grown pesticide free and local.

My table is coming along. I made permanent bookends on the bottom shelf with some of Jay's old wooden blocks that I painted. I bought a set of drill bits for the Dremel and they work like a charm. I learned that I drilled the pilot holes too short in the blocks so I'll know better next project (as now two of the screws stick out about a half inch underneath the table).
The blocks are attached to the bottom shelf by screws, with a dab of wood glue for insurance. I've changed plans on this table probably four times. At first I was going to carve things in the wood but decided not too. Now, where as I was going to shallac fortunes onto the top, I'm going to stamp out a quote instead. We'll see what happens. I've been reading all kinds of quotes but can't find the right one. Here's a picture of the table now, with Archie's furry butt off to the side.


I found this quote that I think sums it up for me.....

"Question:
What do you see yourself doing five years from now?
Answer:
I have no idea. I've never had a career plan and never will. I just
always make sure that I'm doing something I love at the moment, and I find
out where it takes me. I float downriver, then I wake up and say, 'Oh,
here I am. I've had a swell float.'"
Diane Sawyer, interviewed in US Magazine, September 1997

However, I think this theory works best if you have a ton of cash. Diane Sawyer has a shitload of money and I don't. Darn.

Two Thirds Down

I'm reminded on almost a daily basis why I'm having my One Year of Opus...and it's not always why I thought I was doing it. But it's one thing in my life that's always good. It's never been a negative. Occasionally I do ponder the idea that I'm crazy....as in How in the Hell am I going to Make Money!? but I never think I made a mistake or a wrong decision. A few days ago a picture popped into my mind. A picture of a small table, with a bit of carving (I got a Dremel kit for Christmas), some paint, and a whole bunch of Chinese fortune cookie fortunes shellacked all over it. Pop! There it was. I thought, that's my Good Fortune table. So today I built the table part. I love wood and power tools. The sound of the electric drill screwing in 1/4 inch screws. The solidness of all the pieces attached together. Measuring using a CD case instead of a tape measure because the tape measure is no where to be found. Wooo-Whoo! I felt excited about it and sometimes, when life in general gets crummy or overwhelming and I forget my purpose, I stop being excited. So today it was so good to feel like I KNOW where I'm going. And I thought that was all.

Then the phone rang about 10:45 and it was my son calling me from school. He has a science project due in a few days and his partner is out of town for a week. He asked me to come help him with his project...which is Which is Stronger, Recycled Paper, Handmade Paper, or Plain Paper? It felt so great to say yes I'll come help you. So I sat on one of those small chairs and cut strips of paper and asked Jay questions so he could do a table (the kind on paper this time, with facts and figures) and he said thank you several times and I thought thank you several times. There were three little girls at the same table doing their project and one of them did not understand the graph thingy and just started to cry. She was so dear and confused and so I asked them if they needed help too and I felt so at home, working on science projects and answering questions.

Sometimes I feel like I've gotten off track. I haven't bought clothes but I have occasionally bought more than two coffee drinks a week. I haven't used my credit card but Holy Cow I bought a house in Kansas. But mostly, I wasn't doing the creative stuff, I was doing the housework, or talking on the phone, or going to lunch. So, this week, I get back on track. I've got a little less than four official months left of my OYOO. I have three book ideas, loads of furniture to paint, and a garden to start. Plus all that other stuff, like working on science projects with Jay, that fall under the Art of Living category. I wonder if I can file an extension :)

Read all about it!

A couple days ago I was running an errand with my son Jay. I had just picked him up after school and he was a little quiet. I asked him the usual questions...how was school, did he eat his lunch, did anything exciting happen. He answered those and then said, hey mom, did you know that scientist's say that the world's gonna end in four years? I was quiet. Honey, I said, I don't think the world's gonna end in four years. And I don't think a scientist said that. No mom, it's true.

Well, I tried as best as I could to refute the official "world's gonna end in four years" news but he would not believe me. He finally admitted that he heard this from a schoolmate who KNEW a scientist. Four years. Poof.

Just a few years ago that child would believe anything I said. I think this is our last year for Santa Claus.

Sunday morning

My seratonin level is over-producing again. I have coffee and a newspaper. My office is cluttered but the rest of the house is fairly straightened. I think one of the dogs did a little yuck behind one of the chairs which I need to attend to. My son is in bed reading a book. The sun is shining but it's br-r-r cold outside. I am looking forward to spring. But I love my now.

Just watch this

Birthdays

So, my birthday was yesterday. I love birthdays. And not just my own. I think birthdays are like a personal, private New Year's Eve. That's always when I make my resolutions and feel like I have a fresh start. I made prime rib and Yorkshire pudding on Friday with a few girlfriends (It was so good and none of us had ever done it before) and then Jay and I went out for a sushi lunch on Saturday. He is a great gifter already at ten years old. He picked out this stained glass dragonfly and a polished rock in the shape of a heart.

We were sitting there at the sushi bar, eating our shrimp tempura rolls, and this song comes on. It was one of those songs that you can't remember the name of (It was all piano music) but I knew it had meant something at one point in my life and it was familiar and took me back somewhere but I just couldn't quite place it. So that got me all sentimental. Then, Somewhere Over The Rainbow comes on (I AM from Kansas), and that got me to thinking about my mom and dad and how this is my first birthday as an orphan. Then, The Way We Were comes on and I had the tears going. What a DORK! Jay looks over at me and just stares. I said (blubbered), I just love these songs. He must think I am so weird. And anyway, it's really just another day.

This was me on my second birthday. I thought a little man lived inside the camera and painted our pictures and I liked to wave at him. I don't think I'm an overly obnoxious person but I do like to tell people it's my birthday. If I'm going trough the check-out at Target, I tell the person ringing my stuff up. If I'm getting a bagel or a coffee, I tell the cashier. Hi, It's my birthday. They always say Happy Birthday. I don't expect free stuff or a ticker tape parade, I just like having lots of people wish me Happy Birthday. I like birthdays so much I want to have a hundred of them.

Cheers to a new year and another chance for
us to get it right.
-- Oprah Winfrey

Graduation

Once upon a time there was a little boy. When he started to school, he wrote with his left hand. The year was sometime around 1924. Every child was taught to write with their right hand. When that little boy would write, the teacher would bang his left hand with a ruler. He naturally wrote left handed and the teacher had to hit him so often that when he got home from school his knuckles would be bloody. He learned to write right-handed. He also, from that point on, developed a horrible stutter. He grew up, stayed right-handed and kept the stutter. It was embarrassing, and under stress, debilitating. In high school, he had to take a speech class. He decided to do his big speech on Nestle Chocolate and wrote to Nestle to get information. He was armed with candy bars, pages of facts and his own writing. He was in the twelfth grade. When he got up to speak, he couldn't. He started to stutter. He couldn't say a clear word. His teacher told him to sit down. He tried again, and couldn't do it. He left class. His teacher didn't pass him. He did not graduate from high school.

That was my dad. He went on to get a job at Dillon's Grocery Store and worked for them for 42 years. He was, as he called it, a career groceryman. He was an honest, good, kind, regular guy. He was a good father, a good husband to my mom, and a good friend. He could yell really loud sometimes but he was supportive and brave and a great teacher. He was curious about everything his whole life - he never, ever stopped learning about people and the world.

For the last few years of my dad's life, my son and I would drive to Phoenix every other weekend to stay with my parents at their assisted living facility, Fountain View Village. When my mom and my son went to sleep, my dad and I would talk, or watch Jay Leno. I asked him, when he was 86, if there was anything he wished he would have done that he didn't. He said that the only regret he had was that he didn't graduate from high school. He'd always felt bad about it.

I called his high school, my brother called the Superintendent, and my dad got a letter in the mail saying Hutchinson High School wanted to give him his well-deserved, slightly late high school diploma. He cried when he got the letter. It said that they could either mail him the diploma, he could walk with the class in May, or he could come to a special school board meeting and pick it up, there in Hutchinson. At that point, my dad used a cane or a scooter, he had hip and knee problems, he had a faulty heart. But in September of 2003, we went back to Kansas, so my dad could finally go to his high school graduation. He sat in the front row at the meeting, hoisted himself up with his cane, and walked to the front of the room. He cried during the entire meeting he was so happy. He was very proud of that diploma. Here he is on that night, a high school graduate, with his grandson, little Jay. He died two months later on November 1st. I'm so glad he got his wish.

And the stuttering....well, after that year he met a guy named Harold Faldtz. They became best buddies and Harold would punch him solid in the arm every time he'd stutter. It's certainly not the way we'd cure that kind of thing today, but my dad stopped stuttering quite soon, being buddies with Harold. He was friends with Harold all his life.

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was,
'thank you,' that would suffice.
- Meister Eckhart

A Tiny Story

There's this story about my dad I want to write about but I really want the correct picture to go with it. I have the picture...it sits near my desk. But I need to scan the print onto a disk and then transfer it onto my computer. It's just a matter of going to Target or Sam's to get it copied. So, I think about writing this dad blog everyday. I grabbed the picture this morning and was on my way out the door when I thought Hey, I might as well take a few if I'm going to put them on a disk. So, then, I take an hour going through old pictures. Haha, isn't that cute...Isn't that cool...wow, I gotta get a copy of that one. Finally, I'm on my way to Target with a big envelope of pictures. I scan about 25 and realize I've been at the picture machine in Target for AN HOUR. I decide to finish the one I'm doing and copy onto a disk. Ah-oh, it doesn't scan right... so I push the button marked "previous" and all the pictures I've scanned just disappear. OF COURSE it can be fixed...the girl just needs to hit a few buttons, bring my order back up and...

No, they're gone. She said sorry, and we can give you a $3 off coupon for our photo department. Why would I want $3 off when I'm never going to use the photo department there again?! I said, Actually, I'd like a $10 gift card. She got the okay (I must have looked distraught) and I came home.

Tomorrow I'll try again. Soon, the dad blog. With picture. And I'm going to use that whole ten dollar gift card on Starbuck's coffee.

Newton Exposed

Wow. What a great trip we had. I hope you checked out the link to Newton in my last post. Here were the highlights...

Friday
All aboard the Amtrak at 6:30 am. Checked out the roomette (small but comfy), headed to the dining car for breakfast. This trip could have also been called "Eating Tour 2008". Chicken/apple sausage, omelets, croissants, hash browns. The sausage was exquisite. Friday was just a day filled with farkel, dominoes, food, magazine reading (me), and DS Lite (Jay). For lunch; veggie burger, sliced beef with mashed potatoes, Key Lime pie, cheesecake. Dinner; Cornish Hen, Talapia, mashed potatoes, more dessert. Our attendant made up the beds around 8:00 pm and we slept until 2:30.

Saturday
Pulled into Newton at 2:50 am. Got to the Best Western and slept until 8:00. Looked at nine houses for sale, went to Conrad Snider's gallery, drove to Hutchinson to see my Aunt Patty and my cousin Jodi. Explored Newton a bit, drove around, went into antique stores, checked out the neighborhoods, ate dinner at Montana Mikes. It was such a great day but I didn't really LOVE any of the houses I toured.

Sunday
I had decided Saturday that the house thing just was not going to happen this trip. I figured it was a fun time but I'd have to come back to find a good house.
There were two more to look at but from the pictures on the Internet, I wasn't expecting to LOVE either one. My realtor, Kati, was awesome through it all. She was fun and helpful and zero pressure. We met around 11:00 on Sunday at this little bungalow style house and when we walked inside, I looked around and LOVED it. Small, well kept, with dark wide original wood trim on all the doorways. A root cellar out back, a new kitchen, a cute neighborhood. Fairly new heating, AC, and roof. Underneath the carpet in the dining room...wood floors! Built in 1915. I think I'm going to get it. Didn't even go see the second house. Turned in the rental car, Jerry came in from Salina to pick us up and get us down the highway toward Topeka. Jennifer met us halfway, Jay and I changed cars and were in Topeka where my friend, Kristy, picked us up to get us to the train station by midnight. In forty-six hours I went house hunting, saw great art, picked up a great doily in the shape of a butterfly at the antique store, saw relatives and friends, and ate A LOT.

Monday
Back on the train at 1:00 am. Slept until 8:30 am and did Friday all over again. Arrived in Flagstaff at 9:30 pm.

If you have never traveled on Amtrak, DO IT! It's fun and not too expensive. You see small towns, landscape, and animals that you just wouldn't see otherwise. We saw wild horses, antelope, deer, a baby coyote, and a bizillion animal tracks in the snow. We met great people (in the dining car they seat four to a table so we always had two strangers to chat with) and were relaxed when we stepped off the train.

This last picture is of a boarded up church that we passed. It was just beautiful and haunting. Scenes like this flew by several times a day. The chance to just get on a train and see this country in a new way is such a gift. If you ever get the chance, take a train somewhere.

My grandma is buried in Inman, Kansas. There is a quote that she said ALL the time. In fact, it's on her headstone. I've always loved it...

"This is the day which the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in
it."
Psalms