Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Oh yeah, and happy birthday!!!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
- Something I would like to see: A montage of all the scenes in movies and TV shows of men wearing one of those women's negligee robes with the fluffy boa trim. Whenever men get caught without their clothes, the available closets always seem to be well-stocked with these things. I've never owned one. Am I missing something?
- What is it with black SUV drivers? Why are they all assholes? Is it that a certain dicky kind of person gravitates to the black SUVs on the car lot? Or is there something about the black SUV that makes an otherwise sensible person drive like a kitten torturer?
- I just realized that my boss drives a black SUV and she's like one of the nicest people in the world (and no, she doesn't read my blog). Her husband drives a black SUV too, and although he tends to forget to use his rear-view mirror while backing up, he's nice too. There goes my theory.
- French cops on rollerblades. That will not stop being funny. Yep, still funny.
- I am looking at the notes in my raspberry, and (I swear) one says, "Did he say I'm worth my weight in squirrels?" I know I'm becoming a little deaf, but what even sounds like "squirrels"? Girls? Epidurals? Okay, maybe pearls...but that's an odd thing to say.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Bathed and brushed two collies. Don't know which is worse - the short-haired version that shoots gobs of hair at you like a skunk shoots stink until it has clogged the drain, slimed your hands, and lays piled in drifts on the carpet, or the long-haired version who keeps his hair in the hope that he can turn it into mats if left unbrushed for more than 20 minutes.
Okay, it's the long-haired one. Getting the old winter fluff out from between all the long hairs is a painful process for both of us. My hands hurt, and I'm too tired to vacuum.
Although the name "collie" is said to be shrouded in history, it is thought that the name originated from the old Anglo-Saxon word "coll," meaning "black." I, however, claim that the word "collie" is Gaelic for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.
If I'm lucky, Drew will come home tomorrow and be disgusted enough to vacuum. He ought to do it. After all, I mowed the lawn today.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
We had to pee so we stopped at a rest area.
And there was Abraham Lincoln,
miserable and mortified, standing shoulder-deep in a trap of stone bricks.
And no, they did not run out of money and decide to stop carving at the shoulders. It was planned this way, by an alleged art professor. If you want to know his name you can look it up. I see no reason to impune his name as well as his "vision."
If he only knew what Wyoming had in store for him, do you think he would have worked so hard at his job? I wonder.
Monday, April 07, 2008
All these pictures (except for those taken in truck stops and through car windows with my raspberry) were taken with my Canon Rebel XTi - the camera that gets no respect. It's the entry-level model of Canon's fancy pro-type cameras based on the 35mm SLR body. Thus, for the pros and elitist amateurs out there, it is branded as a kindygardener camera. But it has all the basics necessary for a true amateur to take decent pictures.
Everything except a lens hood, which is so embarrassing. My Rebel sticks out like a racing bike with a kickstand because it doesn't come with a lens hood (and one isn't even offered as an accessory - I checked today). Drew and I didn't even know the name of what I was missing ( we called it a rubber lens shady thingy), but all the cool kids seemed to have one.
I don't care. Let them laugh. I bet I still got better pictures. Mine have Drew in them.
The downside to having Drew as a hiking companion (besides the constant complaints about sore feet, knees, hips and/or back), was that he occasionally insists that I take pictures of geological phenomena that look like rude pictures.
Hence, the butt-crack hill photo.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Spoiler alert: through the grass-roots (hah) resistance help of People Powered Machines, I totally won.
Drew thought it was stupid to do something manually that you could do faster and louder with a gas-powered machine. He was all firm in that Captain America way that if I bought a manual mower, I was the only one who would be using it. I felt as if I was asking Dad for a new puppy. "I swear I will feed it and walk it and clean up after it. I promise. Can I? Can I? Can I?"
Once I promised to never ask him to mow the lawn with the quiet, eco-friendly mower, I had, well, not necessarily his blessing, but his non-forbiddingness.
Today I went shopping. It turns out that the gas-powered devices have won the battle for shelf space in all the major (and local) home and garden stores. Yes, they sell a manual reel mower, but it is the old-school type that they only use in period-piece movies. The modern, silent, non-contact, welded steel jobs that need sharpening like once every 8 years and are engineered like Japanese cars are not offered. It's a good thing I did my research first and knew what to look for, or I would have bought one of the prison models and would have been disappointed and Drew might have seemed to be, you know, right.
So I came home and bought a slick awesome one for about the same price they were selling the old-school one at Home Depot.
Another day. Another world-saving action. And Captain America thinks he's so cool.
Did I mention that I drive a Prius?
Friday, April 04, 2008
Meanwhile at the Garden of Eden, Jenny found her own blond Guardian Angel with Blond Baby Jesus and Flowery Cross. It was not at all too glittery.
I call this Road Trip at Sunset. Contact me for reasonably priced prints.
This was my favorite souvenir from Wyoming. Not at all too pearly and shiny. If you can't read the bottom of the pig, it is the State Motto: The Equality State. However, the words on this particular pig seem to be crossed out by the reins from the saddle pictured on the right, that seem to be laying in the Wyoming dust. Nice, huh?
This is proof that southern Wyoming has a layer of smog from all the chemical and mining processing plants dotted along the highway.
Oh, by the way - update for the Captain/Chief: a week and a half in Colorado Springs and Dean has staked out the most coolest bike shop in town and convinced them that they need to hire him without further delay.
Check in often for important vacation photo updates!
Thursday, April 03, 2008
More on this later, as I took about 100 pictures at Bryce alone.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
I started writing notes to myself while listening to The Road by Cormac McCarthy. He tends to lapse into poetry, and although I may be alone in this, some of it is ghastly purple colored.
Although I loved it when trees in a forest fire became "heathen candles," I must draw the line when commuters nuked inside their cars were purported to have "10,000 dreams ensepulchered in their crozzled hearts. " I don't know what a crozzled heart is, but I plan to develop one, just so I can use the word some more.
Here are some of the notes I made. Now that I read them, I realize how little entertainment value there is in them, but it's all I got, except for pictures, which will take some time to upload and edit (I got a little carried away).
And, no, I don't know what's up with the fonts. I tried to tame them, but they would not be tamed.
Apparently one must order food to be served alcohol in this Utah establishment. Dean plans to order one hundred beers and a taco.
Wyoming is smoggy. There are smokestacks in all directions.
There are trucks the colors of every jelly bean in the jar. How come trucking is seen as such a macho vocation?
Easter sunday and we are here and in need of wine. Blue laws are still in place here in Colorado. No drinks over 6 percent alcohol can be purchased in grocery stores and no liquor stores may open on Sunday - especially Easter Sunday. We feel like such reprobate winos.
If you see a pair of black skid marks on the road, you can bet you will see a dead deer on the side of the road. About every mile or two in some places.
Drew heard his first "my heck" in Mormonland yesterday. Now it's his favorite new swear word.
Today we saw Zion National Park and a herd of buffalo with a pet cow. Oh, and we hiked 1488 feet straight up to Angel's Landing . No big thing. We weren't tired yet so we kept going another mile or so up the trail. On two granola bars for breakfast and lunch.
We are going through a town called La Verkin. The name was so off-the-wall that I had to look it up on my raspberry as soon as I had a signal (oddly, signals seem to come and go out here in the far red corner of nowhere) first I tried a French-to-English dictionary. The French would not claim such an ugly word. Wiki theorized that the name was a bastardization, or Mormonization, of the Spanish name (and pronunciation) of the town's river, La Virgin. That's where we felt the urge to buy cheese in a can.
Here I am, sitting in a Best Western in Boise squirting cheese out of a can on to a Triscuit cracker and waiting for Drew to come back from the store with some wine - completely medicinal for long-distance-driving-induced swelling - to round out my meal. Guess its time to go home.