Sheesh, does she ever stay home?

Well, I'm off on another vacation. Me and darling husband are taking off for Philly tomorrow to see some relatives then off to DC. I'm thrilled since there are more museums than I can count. I don't care if I see the White House but to stand in front of that big old statue of Lincoln, well, it will be a moment.

So for two weeks I won't post but I hope to bring back many a East coast photo to show y'all.

Dave at the Hollywood Bowl

I'm very late with this post but wanted to mention a few things about the concert.

What a performance! Dave et al were jammin' at the Hollywood Bowl and it was great. No, it was almost the best performance I've seen them give. Golden Gate Park was the best, I'll always have a place in my heart for the San Francisco show. That whole weekend was a blast.

What made it so good? One was Robert Randolph, his opening act, sat in on two songs the best being Louisana Bayou. They jammed like they've never done before and we just sucked it in, from the fifth row--I might add. My darling daughter always gets the best seats and these were wonderful. "Suck this, peasants!" I stole that line from my son-in-law.

The crowd was a bit on the odd side, but thankfully just a few. I've never seen anyone sit down at DMB performance so it was odd when the couple in front of us did. Good for short little me but odd none the less. Too young to be tired and if they thought they were fooling anyone by sitting down to "light up" they weren't. Loved the no smoking signs at the Bowl, yeah, right. Should say, no smoking but if you wanna toke a bit, we'll look the other way. Makes for a happy crowd and hell, we gotta sell that expensive snack bar crap.

Another odd thing, during a ballad when it was more quiet, the conversation level started. So distracting. Go outside if you're trying to pick-up someone, for god's sake.

None of this affected the night for me, I had the best time and will I go next year? Yes, as long as we still have fun and jump and dance and scream I'll be there.

Car crash: animal style*

Oh no, not another "I hate drivers" post! I'm afraid, yes.

Driving home from the Getty Wednesday night, about 7:00 pm my carpool buddy, Dolores and I were witness to a traffic accident.

Let me set the scene:

Busy corner, Lassen and Balboa.
In-n-out Hamburgers stand is on the south-east corner with a long line of cars in the drive-thru.
I'm stopped in the left turn lane, one car in front of me. Solid traffic beside me.

Ok, so my light turns green and the guy in front doesn't even move, so I wait. The traffic across has just started to roll when this idiot, coming from my left, blows the light at an amazing rate of speed. He misses the guy in front of me, clips the woman in the lane next to us, hits the breaks; skids and hits some car we can't see, then jumps the curb and t-bones some poor shmuck in the drive through.

Can you imagine, coming home, just gonna pick up a few burgers for dinner and whammo gets nailed waiting to order.

In-n-out is a Southern California burger joint that has quite a following and the title is from my darling husband. Animal style is a way to order your hamburger.

If they say it's ok, it probably isn't

Men, if your partner pats your hand and say with a weak smile, "It's ok, it happens to everyone." and you live in the Southern California area, you probably cut me off on the freeway Wednesday. You see, I cursed you and not the normal curse you out, such as "You mother f***in' son-of-a-bitch" but a real honest to goodness curse. A curse something like, "You will not satisfy your partner for a week you ... (see above)."

We have a lane on the freeway for carpools and it is double-stripped so that means, for some people who are remedial, you can not cross it even if your goddamn exit is coming up and you've been talking on the phone/picking your nose or whatever fills your drive time and you are way too late/important/stupid to just get off at the next exit. This does not mean you have the right of way. I don't care how lovely your mother thought you were when she toilet-trained you, stay the hell in your lane.

And if you are standing at a meeting with your fly is down, it was my bumper you were riding at 75 mile-an-hour and had the fucking nerve to flash your lights at me.

I'm not picking on men. My hermanas get their own retribution.

Somethings are manditory

My vacation with my sister is over. Sigh. I did get used to her being here but she has a house and a husband in Florida and needed to get back to sell one of them. Since husbands don't go for much it's the house she needs to sell.

She had a "wish list" and I'm afraid we didn't get everything accomplished. Means she needs to return. We did get to the desert and did quite a lot of cooking, and had a ball eating at some new places. Oh, and we laughed a lot. Really, a lot.

We saw a taping of the Late Late Night Show, visited an emergency room, met Little Bird in the desert to have a spa experience and a wonderful dessert, even got to Surfas to buy some kitchen goodies. She helped me find towels and wall art for the house and we didn't annoy darling husband too much, or so he says. Trips to our Farmer's Market were among her favorites--I have to say, me too. I'm hoping to find something like that on my trip to New Jersey next week.

So, it's just me and husband and the bald headed dog and I have to say it's lonely right now. Too hot to go outside and the last day of a three day vacation so want to stay far away from any freeway this afternoon.

I'm just waiting for sunset so I can sit out on the patio and think about the fun things we did and maybe I'll just laugh out loud because few make me laugh like my sister does.

Doggie Disguise

Some breeds of dogs get a bad rap and this website seems to have the answer. Have a dog that people are afraid of? Just get a Doggie Disguise and be done with the fearful looks from strangers on the street. Who thinks of this stuff?

Our own darling Buddy has a new disguise of his own. We think he looks handsome and quite a bit younger with his summer buzz. It was a miscommunication with the groomer but he'll be back to furry-Buddy by Christmas.

My life as a crack whore

Anticipating the evening with my daughter and Dave Matthews Monday night, I was is such a good mood. So when I stopped by the market to buy some drinks and saw a "street person" playing the guitar I dropped some money in his tray. I know, I never give money, it's so enabling, but guitar, music, Dave and the Hollywood Bowl, you get the picture.

"Here ya go friend."

"Do I know you?" he said? "Oh yeah, you're that crack whore."

I laughed out loud so I guess I got a return on my investment.

And my evening with Little Bird and Dave, as good as expected, maybe better.

He'll be here on Monday

Who is he? Dave Matthews and I'll be seeing the Monday concert at the Hollywood Bowl with my darling daughter. She usually sees him at least twice when he's in the area and I get to go once. This time she will see three concerts, Irvine tonight, Chula Vista tomorrow night and Hollywood on Monday.

That photo was from one of my all time favorite concerts, Vegas, and I think it was 1999. Little Bird would be able to say exactly you see, she's the big fan, I like his band a lot but most of the fun is going with her.

So Monday night I'll pick her up and we'll make the pilgrimage and shout and dance and be deaf for the next day but I wouldn't miss it for the world. Heck, who knows how many more years will I be able to go.

He's coming to town

Fingers: I need all ten

Due to a crazy little accident I have a broken and somewhat purple right middle finger which makes typing difficult. Now, darling husband has been doing lots for me but typing would be out of the question since he only has nine fingers himself.

Give me a day or two and I should be back to normal. Now I just have to figure out how to drive without giving an unintentional finger to other drivers.

Three hots and a cot

Sister/Aunt Weed/Doodles will be visiting next week so we'll either post a lot or be just too busy and not get too it. I hope it's the former. We are tidying up the guest room which means Buddy gets evicted while she's here but one more person in the house means more treats so it's a trade off.

She's already started a list of what she wants me to cook and I think I'm going to put together a list of my own. We do know for sure that lil bird will be making us some of her yummy ice cream.

So I'm putting you all on notice--don't beat me up for not posting regularly. Anyone who knows me know the two sisty uglers can get distracted by the smallest of things.

"I know, let's drive to the desert ... oh look, a chicken."

We do plan to find some of Great Taco Hunt's Four-Tacos-or-more establishments and hopefully a visit to Late Night TV's Craig Ferguson. Hopefully the PBE girls will make it down to the desert without too many side trips.

As Weed says "stay tuna'd!"

We love you, you cranky magnificent bastard

We have this friend and he can be the greatest person and the worst person and darling husband and I pretty much put up with the worst person because we like him and he's part of our family. Like a cranky old bastard uncle but family none the less. He usually calls to apologize when he's like that.

You see we're all family and that's what family does--it forgives. I've gotten rid of people I don't like but family--hey, it's about forgiveness because my family forgives me, I think.

So we love him when he likes himself and we worry about him when he's the bastard. Like family or something.

Vini, vidi, decori

We have finally painted the "hobby" bathroom and when Dan pulled out the old medicine cabinet this is what we found. Just in case you can't read this it says,

LAD Jan. 16, 1988--We came, we saw, we painted!

This is the handy work of our only darling daughter when she was sixteen and it brought back a memory or two.

Thanks, little bird.

Marshmallow cream heaven

This was way too fun. Read my post on Peanut Butter Étouffee.

Diabetics; turn away now

Dentist the menace

I hate the dentist. It's always painful and this time it was a big ol' poke in the wallet. Yikes, I'd been shopping for a new laptop and bought a bridge instead. I guess I'll have to baby this old computer along for a few more months and baring anymore mega dental bills I'll have a new laptop by November. Watch the post fly, then.

Travelog

It was this hot.

So we went here, ahhhhhh.

This one is too funny to ignore

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed. On your right side is a sharp drop-off, and on your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you. Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo and your horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the Kangaroo. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?


Get your drunk ass off the Merry-Go-Round!

She shoots; she scores

My elbow has been just cranky for the past few weeks. Darling husband says I slug him during the night when he snores but I doubt it would give me this much trouble. Jeeze, I've been slugging him for years.

So off to the Dr and I was sure it would be a long-expensive-xray-filled visit but it wasn't. He looked and twisted and poked and said I had tennis elbow which is interesting because that's the closest I'd come to playing a sport since I played Foosball in a bar.

He did have a suggestion: wear this tight little band below the elbow and it keeps the tendon from irritating the joint. I was a bit skeptical but thought I'd at least give it a week or so and to my utter amazement, the damn thing seems to work. I can't say I'm cured but I could actually lift a grocery bad with my left hand something that yesterday would have made me grimace with pain.

This guy impressed me. Not only did he have an answer for my pain, he didn't prescribe pain medication or run a bunch of tests and the brace cost all of fifteen buck.

And to boot, I've got a new sport, tennis. Who's to know.

It's too damn hot!

Max and Multi can't hardly stand the heat anymore. Please Congress do what you can for global warming.

Moon dust gets in your eyes

On July 20, 1969, Commander Neil Armstrong became the first man on the moon. He said the historic words, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

On July 20, 1969, my first date with darling husband was at a moon landing party. We will celebrate 37 years of marriage next January.

BTW: Sister also had a date with her husband at the same party. These two guys said they were drunk but we think it was moon dust.

Buy American, bye-bye

It is way too hot to do much of anything so last Friday darling husband and I went to the movies. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest had been out for a while so we hoped for no long lines or screaming kiddies. We were right on both wishes and got there just as the opening credits started.

Not that I've paid much attention in the past, and can't say why I did this time, but in the opening of this Disney film they played "When you wish upon a star" while the Disney Pictures logo, the Magic Castle, glitters on the screen. I could be wrong but it seems that was the way the "Wonderful World of Disney," a television program from my childhood, started. For an all to brief moment I felt very happy, secure and in my jammies waiting for the Adventures of the Swamp Fox or Davy Crockett. No global-warming-war-in-iraq-current-administration angst; just a fifty year old memory of better times.

Don't you wish you could carry a bit of that in your pocket to pull out and dab on when you encounter stress?

Take that you Cheney; now get back into my closet or at least under the bed.

Stay away you oil executives; slide back in your hole where you belong.

Disappear Ford Motor Company; you bastards won't even invest in your own damn country.

Oh, and the President said "shit" today. I feel the magic, don't you?

DC dilemma

Darling husband and I are taking a trip to our nation's capital in September. We are both excited to go to the Smithsonian and I was told if you contact your senators or representative you could get passes to see Congress in session or tickets for tours of the Supreme Court and the like.

Ok, here's my problem. I think my representative is a goofball. How can I write and ask for anything because I already write him when I think he's done something stupid. You think my name will pop up in a "don't give this liberal jack … " list? I think it will.

There's always my senators Diane and Barbara but I've not been too thrilled with them lately and there was this one letter I wrote after Katrina. I'm sure they won't have remembered, right?

Too sexy for his shades

Buddy is way too cool for any explanation.

Sue-approved gingersnaps

Our 4th of July tradition for more than twenty years has been to attend a pool party with lots of people, bbq and fireworks. The party, originally hosted by Sue and Nelson Christensen, is now being featured at their daughter and son-in-law's, Donatello and Blondie. If you are a regular reader, surprisingly I have a few, you know we lost our dear friend Sue in May.

So this is how the party goes: Splash, splash, eat, drink, talk, laugh and wait for Sue to bring out her two famous cookies, chocolate chip and gingersnap. All the splash, drink, eat, talk comes to a halt for these gems and to honor her the family asked attendees to make her gingersnaps.

Ah, another contest. Rules were: the winner would be the cookie closest to Sue's. How could I turn down another contest. I'd had her recipe and made it twice to come close. I guess I was closer than anyone else because of the five entries, I won.

I was glad they liked the cookies but even more glad to get the "trophy" which is pictured below. It's a spoon from her kitchen mounted on a bread board. Now I think of Sue every time I see it.

Well, does he?

If a bear shits in the wood he evidently drives there in a '64 Sky Lark.

Leaving the car with paw prints and cheese on the seats just isn't the "good neighbear" that I know.

No, you keep it

Once again, I was at the Getty Villa last week. I should move to Malibu, ha! Like I could afford a post box in that zip code. I was also lucky to be with daughter; a last minute addition since her father couldn't make it and I'm always glad when she can.

The evening lecture was on a closing exhibit, Molten Glass, and even though the curator of the exhibit read her presentation it was quite interesting. This woman could have spoken for hours about this subject but choose to read it instead and daughter said, it only makes you realize how difficult it is to present and appreciate the really good speakers. She could be right.

A bonus of attending a Getty Villa lecture at night is the opportunity to visit the gallery after. We skipped the reception and headed into the museum but not before we had a look in the main garden. The moonlight on the reflecting pool was spectacular. Moonlight in Malibu is different, I believe.

Daughter got to meet a docent friend of mine and her accompanying husband, Al. He comes with her to all the lectures so I've gotten to know him. Last time he brought me a yellowed, clipped from a 1989 magazine, article on authenticating ancient marble sculptures that references a piece before the Getty bought it. This time it's a piece from the New Yorker, 1957. You see, when Al reads an article he snips it and saves it to read again and over the years has amassed quite a box. He is now trying to get rid of them and I'm part of his dispersal program. Does he want them back? Nope, give them away he says.

The problem is, now I can't throw them away. They are like a piece of sticky paper stuck to your shoe. First they were in the living room, then they migrated to the kitchen, and finally I've moved them to my office. I've read them and now I can't decide what to do with them. Why is it so difficult to toss these? It's like old magazines. I wonder if I should put these on Craig's List?

How simple is simple?

Potato salad is an American staple for the summer and I make a pretty good one and trust me, it's a very simple recipe. I like it but I still can't figure what makes people rave about it when I take it to potlucks.

When it comes to recipes I can't imagine not sharing them and because people have ask I've posted my recipe on Peanut Butter Étouffee. Try it, share it with friends just don't ask me to make it again for a while.

One year and counting

Today is special. Not in a big way, most people don't know about it but I've finished my first year of retirement. In the spirit of celebration, all of us celebrate differently, I thought I'd put fingers to keys this morning and reflect on what I've accomplished.

I left my job while I still loved it and, most importantly, it loved me. I wasn't pushed out and could have stay much longer but I was ready, oh so ready to move home. I'd seen some people outlive there jobs and stay way too long so their retirement was a celebration not only for them, but their co-workers. Leave them laughing and always wanting more.

We've nearly finished the house inside remodel. Just a few flooring issues and paint and we can start on the outside. It has been fun and not as frustrating as I thought. I learned that darling husband has a few more talents than I ever imagined. He has become the Tile Master; sound the trumpets. Not that he's quick, he'll be the first to admit he isn't but he is precise and that is important as well.

The Getty Center wanted me back. I'm working at least once a week on the hill and loving everything. As a bonus I've made a few new friends, Dolores and Lorrie and I have to be honest I enjoy their company as much as being a docent.

I see my daughter more. The two years in Bakersfield left a void in my soul for that girl and now I can have lunch or drop by or do something in the evening with her. Priceless.

My sister and I've become closer. We traveled together to Indiana in May and, even though the Indians tried to kill us, we had a great time. I look forward to her visit to California in August and once she moves to Arizona, someone please go to Florida and buy her house, I'm sure we can spend some more time together. As she says, stay tuna'd!

My darling companion and I have stayed good friends. Sure, there are the occasional disagreements but we had those while I was working, too. What's the secret? We have our own things to do but still enjoy each other's company. I've learned to paint, he's learned how to lay tile. I docent at the Getty, he still enjoys all his old car functions. But, if we need a little change, he's the first to offer a drive to the beach or lunch out and we always enjoy walking Buddy together.

So, I've done a lot and we're lucky because there's much more to do. I want to travel and we're planning a trip to New Jersey to see his cousins and then to DC to see the Smithsonian. Washington has been on my wish list for years so I'm thrilled. We still need to do more beach camping. I need to become a better painter both on canvas and walls, he needs to tile our daughter's downstairs, and we both need to lose some weight. I want us to be able to stay healthy.

Ok so I'm a lucky girl. I left work at 55 and no, we don't eat dog food. We were good savers in our early years and because we've stayed in the same house, were able to pay it off long ago and plunk lots-o-money into our retirement savings. Ah, say 401K and repeat it over and over.

One last thing, after reading little bird's blog I started one, then sister, then the three of us started Peanut Butter Étouffee and that has been a blast so far.

Whew, I'm going to take a nap but check back next year for another follow-up.

Dreamland has no zipcode

The other morning my sister in Florida called and woke me and while talking to her I staggered to the kitchen to make my morning tea. I still had the remnants of sleep to get rid of but when she said the word "dream" it triggered my memory.

"I dreamed you sold your house," I shouted.

Dreams are so fleeting for me. I read an article on how to remember your dreams but it was no help to me. They say if you want to remember you need to make a note the moment you wake, don't even sit up and don't think of anything else. My problem is I wake up and all I think of is "full bladder" and as soon as I flush the dream is gone except for silly little shreds that don't make much sense.

She stopped her story and asked me for details. Oh, do you think I could remember? No, I'd flushed since then.

Hail Cesar Millan

If you've seen National Geographic's TV program The Dog Whisperer I'm sure you've wondered if Cesar's technique could work magic on say, your kids, spouse, or boss. I'm here to tell you my friend Teresa has perfected something close.

At a party last weekend I was talking with Bobby, her husband and somehow we got on the topic of the Dog Whisperer and how it was Teresa's favorite show. With the conversations still going on, somewhere in the back of my mind I'm thinking, they don't have a dog, do they? We were interrupted by Teresa.

"Bobby, come in the house I want to show you something."

"Not now," he said.

"Yes, now, I want you to see this."

"No."

She uttered the now famous "shhhhht" that Cesar uses on unruly dogs and he quietly got up to follow her.

"I love Cesar," she said, "see it even works on husbands."

It wouldn't work for me, my spouse would just stare at me and walk away, not unlike the dog.

Homeland Security's newest weapon against terrorism

Nothing says patriotism like a 20-foot eagle on the 4th of July though this one looks a bit menacing. Take that al Qaeda!

And, on a lighter note:

Man wakes up with light bulb in his anus. You heard that right, don't make me repeat it! Jeeze, sometimes I break them while bringing them home from the store. Little did I know you were supposed to carry them that way. Where can I buy candles?

Here taco, taco

I don't usually mix food with this blog, Peanut Butter Étouffee takes care of that, but there is a blog, The Great Taco Hunt and it is more fun than a cold beer on a Friday night.

Bandini travels the streets of Los Angeles--and surrounding areas--stalking for the perfecto taco. His imaginative reviews of taco stands, and as of late taco truck, is a true guide of Los Angeles. Now there's something I've never tried, rolling tacos. He rates the taco sellers and even has his reviews broken down by area; I've got to try Tacos Chatos in West LA.

I feel so sorry for people who don't live in Southern California, they don't know what they are missing.

She found inner peace--in the fridge

I have a quirky friend name of Pam. Most of my friends are quirky but she's on the top of the list. If you are thinking I'm "putting her business out on the street" you're wrong, she'd be the first to admit to her quirkyness.

Ms Pam floats in and out of our lives from time to time and when we vacation we always ask Pam to Buddy-sit. Aren't too many we let stay with our dog. She sent me the following and though I don't believe Pam wrote this I thank her for passing it on and I need to share this with my other quirky friends because some of them could use a good dose of inner peace.

I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me, and we all could use more calm in our lives.

By following the simple advice I heard on a Dr. Phil show, I have finally found inner peace. Dr. Phil proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace was to finish all the things you have started. So I looked around my house to see things I started and hadn't finished; and before leaving the house this morning I finished a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of White Zinfandel, a bottle of Baileys, a bottle of Kahlua, a package of Oreos, the remainder of the Valium prescriptions, the rest of the cheesecake, Doritos and a box of chocolates.

You have no idea how freaking good I feel.

If you didn't hate it already

There was a woman, who in her youth, gave her baby son up for adoption. Difficult choice, I'm sure, but gave the boy a better life--what a sacrifice.

This boy, now a man, is in the military and before he goes to Iraq he wants to meet his birth mother and he finds this woman so that he can put that final piece of the puzzle together.

This man found his mother; this woman found her boy.

He was killed this month in Iraq. Twenty years old.

Now if you think this sounds like an urban legend, it isn't, this did happen to a fine women I know and I am truly happy she had the guts to give him up and also to meet him. She never would have forgiven herself if she didn't.

Life is a lesson. Don't forget to tell someone how much they mean to you, today.

What wouldn't Jesus do?

Headline in the Sunday Los Angeles Times:
War's Iraqi Death Toll Tops 50,000

The administration has underestimated the number of Iraqi deaths; by about 20,000.

They underestimated the number of "weapons of mass destruction" three years ago; none.

Did they underestimate the cost of this war, over 250 BILLION dollars so far? Think of the education and health issues we could have spent that money on. Hell, we could pay tribute to Halliburton and still have 249 billion bucks to build schools and roads and, heck, take care of some medication for the elderly. We could have even incouraged education in other countries with aid.

Guess how many American service people won't be coming back to teach school, drive trucks, or raise families. Over 2,500.

And, there's no telling how many more will die before this is over. To quote my friend Sandy, "Is there no fucking end to this room?"

A moving experience

I got a call from Donatello Friday night and he was in what he calls, "panic mode." His number one daughter needed to be moved from her condo, NOW. The Now was to take place the next day because of an escalating somewhat messy divorce and would darling husband and I help? Sure.

With the help of a few more friends and family we packed her stuff, taking a small pizza break, in about five hours, not an easy task but we did stay somewhat to schedule. A good friend helped me pack up a small office that also housed her collections of almost everything and that job took us the entire day. We thought we were finished but when brought to our attention there was stuff lurking in the window seat friend, whom I never heard swear, said, " Is there no end to this fucking room?" It was the laughing break we all needed and she said she'd probably never live it down. She's right.

A bit of a wrinkle in the plan sent darling husband driving the Don's truck and trailer while I, for the first time, drove the '51 truck. I don't mind driving other cars but husband's cars usually have some quirky little thing you have to learn about and this one was no exception. The mirrors are pretty much for show so if you want to look out the left you'll need to stick your head out. The rear view mirror shows most of that blind spot but I'd hate to be carrying anything large in the back.

I made it with no problem and back home we divided her wordly goods between two garages and then collapsed. She bought us takeout dinner from a tasty little local joint, hmmmm garlic fries, then we drug our sorry asses home.

She was truly grateful for all the help and thanked us all so many times. Hey, it's what friends do but I will say if she entertains the thought of marriage again, the prospective must be interviewed by all that helped her move.

Where I'd like to be

Once we thought we'd like to move to Oregon then we had this side trip to Bakersfield and moved back to Southern California. I still have a yearning for these beaches. I felt I could take a photo everyday and not make the same image twice. Maybe someday we can go back to visit.

I'm posting this for my good friend and frequently flyer here on French Benefits, Donnatelo. He's given me crap about not posting but once a week so I'm going to try. Docent duties and food blogging keeps be busy, plus I've got a workman to feed and keep happy. Because if I keep my plumber-electrician-drywall-mechanic-tilesetting husband happy, he takes me to the beach.

Don't expect miracles but appreciate them when they happen.

Walk like an Egyptian

I had the extreme pleasure of attending a lecture by Dr. Zahi Hawass Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities in Egypt. If you've ever watched any program about ancient Egypt you've seen this man. He is charming and disarming. He speaks like he's being chased by a mummy and thinks himself a pharaoh. Don't let his boyish grin fool you, this guy can be tough but I enjoyed every one of the fifty-five minutes of his lecture.

The lecture was about new discoveries in the Valley of the Kings, most of them his. He's not a shy person at all and takes credit for knowing where to dig for treasure. Why he even found the lost penis of King Tut. Bet he was happy.

It is always great to be with someone who has a true love for what he does, it's infectious. If I were a young student I'd be signing up for a dig.

Are you sure you want white?

My new master bath is white. White tile floor, counter, shower; everything is white. Oh, except the walls they are a dark blue-gray. It's a striking combination. I gave all my attention to picking out the color and none to the upkeep of this bathroom.

It's not that it's difficult to clean. The problem is it shows everything. I never thought we were particularly hairy people but I can mop the floor every day and every morning it looks as if someone's shaved a dog in there. Where does it come from? Are there hairy little gnomes sneaking in at night? If so, I wish they'd clean up after themselves. Maybe we are going bald. Hope it happens soon. I'm tired of mopping this floor.

A Master at the Getty

The long awaited (by me) Eliot Porter exhibition is finally here at the Getty Center in Los Angeles. I only had time to do a "power walk" through the gallery yesterday but will give it proper time next week. If not the father of color landscapes he was certainly the godfather and most responsible for me loving landscapes as art.

I think every photographer starts in black and white, hey, it's cheap and easy to work with, then after seeing Porter's landscapes knows the beauty of color. I drift back to b&w ever so often, Bruce Barnbaum being another hero but I can't turn away from Porter's work. If you live in the area do get up the hill to see it.

Here's a big ole steaming pile for you

Karl Rove won't be charged in the CIA leak case.

Howard Dean made a statement I like and it brings up a point. I don't think this administration really cares about the American people, not at all.

Quote from Dean, the Democratic Party chairman "He doesn't belong in the White House. If the president valued America more than he valued his connection to Karl Rove, Karl Rove would have been fired a long time ago. So I think this is probably good news for the White House, but it's not very good news for America."

Rove irritates me. Monday in New Hampshire he says John Kerry and John Murtha are soft in the fight on terrorism because they voted for the war and now they are "cutting and running." But wait, what about the fact we were lied to about the reasons for this war?

Rove's perfectly comfortable with sending Americans to war though he never served himself. Bastard. Nor did Cheney or Wolfowitz. Sort of like Nuns teaching sex education classes.

What becomes of aging rock stars?

Evidently they make Blue Grass covers of their songs. Well, that's what David Lee Roth has done. Saw this last week on the Late Late show with TV's Craig Ferguson and I've had trouble sleeping ever since. Diamond Dave has re-recorded his biggest hits with a Blue Grass group and it's called Strummin' With the Devil: The Southern Side of Van Halen. This is no joke, well, not an intended one. I couldn't watch, I had to turn it off. Sad, so pathetically sad.

Jus a lagniappe for ya

These are two snaps from the beach camping trip. I am intrigued by found objects on the beach and usually find some beach glass but didn't this trip. Are plastic soda bottles replacing the beach glass? God I hope not. At least we still have wine bottles. Since we are never getting rid of the trash it should, at the very least, be interesting to look at.

She's a nasty woman that June Gloom

Well, she's not actually a woman but what we Southern Californios call this time of year. You get up in the morning to fog, it hangs around until two or three in the afternoon, then you get about 45 minutes of sun, and then the fog comes back until ... well, you get the picture. This never ending weather pattern is called June Gloom and it just about spoiled our first-ever teardrop camping experience.


If you're wondering what a teardrop is, it's the tiny little trailer behind darling husband's Chevy truck. It's our version of a RV. The shape gives it the unusual name but it could be from what is shed from sleeping in a 4' high, 4' wide, 5' long bed. Turn away if you have claustrophobia. I don't so it suits me fine.

Here is the "bedroom" and yes, that's the California bear flag we are using as a bedspread. Heads fit under a bank of cabinets with feet under another. Don't set up too fast or you'll get splinters. The back has the "galley" and if it had been warmer, I'd have rustled up some camping grub. As it was, the only thing I cooked on this shake-down cruise was tea and toast.

June Gloom. We love the beach in the summer. Sometimes it would be so gray you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the sea began. Does this look cold? Too bad you can't see how windy it was, too.


Buddy can attest to the fact it was cold. This was the city-dog's first every camping trip and I'm sure he kept thinking, "We're going home soon, I just know it."

Even with the cold, the wind and the fact the toilet was fifty yards away this adventure had it's up side. At four in the morning, on a trip to the bathroom and before the fog rolled in, it was so clear you could see the milkyway and I don't mean the candybar. I forgot how beautiful the night sky can be without the light pollution of the city. And with the moonlight reflecting off the water you could hardly tell where the sky stopped and the ocean began.

Hairblow for the terrier

We had the Mustang out on Saturday to scout out a camping site at the beach. Dan has had his Tear Drop trailer for more than a year now and it has only made it to car shows we thought it was time to actually sleep in it.

This is Buddy in the back of the convertible. He wears a special harness to keep him in the car and when you get it out he goes nuts. He sure does love that Mustang.

Did we go camping? I'll have a post up soon with our adventures.

I show it all

Sweetnicks put out a call for pix of what's in your fridge. See my fridge and post on Peanut Butter Etouffee. My fridge

And as a side-bar, the title of this post should send a bunch of hits my way. I was almost overrun when I published "more bathroom photos" ha, bet those pervs were suprised to see our remodel.

Clean up your room

Little bird has an interesting post, If you aren't part of the solution … It has to do with Al Gore's flic on global warming, something we should all be concerned because, hey, we do live on this globe and need to leave it a little bit better than we found it.

Don't look

When did the crack of someone's ass, male or female, become a fashion statement? Weren't plumbers the butt (sorry) of a joke when they bent over and displayed the butt-crack? I volunteer at a wonderful museum in LA and I adore meeting our visitors from all parts of the world but I'm noticing a disturbing trend. Not only Americans are putting their "hineys" on display, the whole wide world seems to think this is appropriate.

Butts in the appropriate place are fine but "tushy" cleavage when you're tipping the scales at 200, male or female, is not. Wrong, very very wrong.

Ok, Indiana had some beauty after all

Everything has one redeeming quality and it seems Indiana has flowers. They have birds, too but I still have not seen a cardinal in the wild. For gods sakes, it's their state bird and I never saw one single red feather.

I have to admit there were some highlights to the Indiana trip. We did get to see some lovely flowers but I can't believe I didn't take any photos of the lilacs. They grew like weeds on the side of the road. I photographed this bromeliad at the White River Gardens in Indianapolis. It has tiny flowers growing in the center. Inside the conservatory they also had butterflies. I think sister Weed has a great photo of a huge butterfly, couldn't tell you the name but it was impressive.



We found tulips in Ft Wayne at Foster Park but we barely caught them. One more day or so and they'd be gone. The park is beautifully maintained and had a walkway lined with lilacs.

This is the about the only dogwood in bloom. The farther south we headed the less we saw. It was raining the last afternoon in Indy so we missed seeing the gardens at the Museum of Art. The highlight of IMA was seeing a piece by Bill Viola. He was a Getty Scholar a few years back with a great exhibit so that was a happy surprise.

Just so you know

We've had a house full of guests this past weekend and Sunday morning darling husband asks, "Who brought the Australian Coffee?" No one answered. "Yeah, there's a container in the kitchen marked 'coffee mate'." We threw him outside. Just thought you'd like to know what I live with.

You can never have too much serial

If anyone is interested in the food part of our Indiana trip you can read and eat the serial on Peanut Butter Étouffee.

I'm way to small to care about anything

This is from Cute Overload. Little bird talks about this site once in a while so I thought I'd have a look at some of their photos. Prepare yourself if you visit the site there are so many "awwwwws" that it will take you an hour.

Second hand Rose

There are lots of benefits of second hand furniture, clothes, or even relationships but second hand smoke, it's a killer. I learned about this first hand with my visit to Indiana. First let me say I'm sure everyone smokes in that state, they don't stay in school--three out of ten students don't finish high school--but they somehow learned to smoke. They smoke in every public place and I won't even deal with the private ones because those are populated with my relatives.

Listen, I've heard every rebuttal to second hand smoke and until I experienced it on a personal basis, I didn't really care. But this made me sick, really sick, doctor visit sick so now I'm mad.

I couldn't care less if the smoker gets cancer, that's their decision but if you work in a bar or restaurant that allows smoking and you need your job then you should have a right to a smoke-free environment. If you are a child that can't speak up for themselves then you need smarter parents and a smoke-free environment. If you are a friend or relative you need real friends and relatives that are aware of the poison they are spewing.

So you want to smoke? Go ahead, lock yourself in a little room and smoke until everything in it turns brown with the nicotine including you lungs but stay the hell away from me.

Whew, that made, me feel almost as good as the antibiotics I've had to take to clear up this second hand smoke infection.

A sweet and sour Mother's Day

While in Indiana we lost another part of our extended family, our dear little woman Grandma Sue. The memorial service was on Saturday and darling husband, little bird with husband, and myself attended. I'm still sick from my trip and felt I was contaminating the whole of Southern California but the relationship with this part of our extended family would not let me miss the service though I passed on the after gathering.

Sue was a sweet little Scottish-Canadian woman with a smile much bigger than her actual body. It was very reassuring to have so many people stand up and say a few words at the service. She had many friends and a loving family and she will not be forgotten.

Having a mother prepares you for life and loosing yours prepares you for what's after. We lost our own mother Lorna in '02. I'll add Sue to my list of angels.

Mother's Day

Little bird came back home after the gathering and spent the night getting up the next morning to make the "healing" Mother's Day brunch. I awoke to sausages, biscuits, and eggs and potatoes being cooked in my kitchen and loved every bite. They even cleaned the kitchen but I made a mental note to check the whereabouts of my iron skillet when she left later that day. It was my mom's skillet--more than forty-years-old--and is seasoned to perfection. I promised she wouldn't have to wait until I die just until I can't cook anymore.

So, a belated Happy Mother's Day to all and blessing on all our mothers no matter where they are.

Home again, home again ...

I miss odd things when I travel. I missed by darling husband, but he's not odd. I miss my pillow and my bed, though we had a lovely room in Edinburgh, Indiana one night, what I miss is the taste of my water. Silly, I know, but I do. When you're traveling all you get is bottled or their local water. Our's isn't spring water collected by the artesian elves nor is it particularly soft, it's just what I'm accustomed to after 33 years.

So Weed and I had a good time and in the weeks to come I'll have some photos up. We were lucky to be there for the last of the tulips and dogwood. The photo is from Foster Park in Ft. Wayne, Indiana.

Back home again in Indiana

Tuesday sister Weed and I are heading for Indiana. Not that we are big Indiana fans but the beloved aunt and uncle live there and we are making our annual trip. Both of us were born there but left mid-century to grow up in the Los Angeles area, thanks mom and dad good decision.

We'd planned this trip early in the year and now it's here I'm starting to get excited. We did have some bad news on Wednesday. Our beloved uncle passed away. Shocking, yes, in a way but he'd been in a state of fragile health for a while so not unexpected but it is always shocking. This doesn't change the trip because we will be with our aunt and it will be sad to miss Uncle Dave. Fine man he was and a snappy dresser even in his later years; he will be missed by family and friends.

Beloved aunt wanted to see the dogwoods in bloom in southern Indiana which is where her family originally lived. Our mother was born in Pee Wee Valley, Kentucky but that is another post. We located the family cemetery last year and promised to bring her back in the spring. It's not as morbid as it sounds, there is just so much family history in the cemetery it compels you to return and learn more. I'm not sure she has the same desire now that her love of fifty plus years is gone but we'll see. I'd be glad to honor any of her wishes.

Daughter calls our home state, Klan-diana and after our mother's funeral refused to ever cross the border again. It is more white-bread than I'd ever care for and without the beloved Aunt I'm sure we'd never make the trek either. They seem to be holding on to Plessy v. Ferguson with fervor.

Geographically it's not an ugly state, if you like farmland, but there is an undercurrent of something about to happen. Last year we toured a good deal of the state by car and noticed so many small towns boarded up. Sad, but with family farms being a thing of the past and no jobs, what are young people supposed to do; leaving is the only answer. Not unlike many other areas they need some industry or maybe if they found oil. Now there's a scary thought, Rumsfeld steaming into Terre Haute.

So Weed and I will head back to our Indiana home, though neither of us claim it, and I'm sure we'll have a good visit with darling aunt but then we take are fun with us.

If you feel like singing,

Back home again in Indiana,
And it seems that I can see
The gleaming candlelight, still burning bright,
Through the sycamores for me.
The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
Through the fields I used to roam.
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash,
How I long for my Indiana home.

Rising Damp

Before Christmas last year darling husband and I met daughter little bird and my step-mother Mary in Port Charlotte Florida where my sister and her husband live.

Little Bird had to fly home to her husband and work but the rest of us went to Babcock Ranch in Punta Gorda to take the Swamp Buggy tour. The tour was great though the "museum" at the ranch was a little lacking. We saw swamp wildlife, which included a number of alligators, and flora that I'd never experienced. I especially like the cypress knees that stick up out of the water.

We picniced on the grounds when we returned from the tour and had a memorable day. The Sean Connery movie, Just Cause was filmed on the ranch and part of the set was still there. It intrigued us so we visited the video store on the way home and rented it. Creepy thriller of a movie but worth the rental. Check my Shutterfly for more photos of the ranch plus some of the Thomas Edison winter residence and workshop.

Do they make band-aids for tubs?

We took a four month hiatus from the remodel because we were just tired of all the dust and such but now we are back at it. Dan demolished the guest bathroom and he and Mr. Heckendorf, our contractor and a friend, were working feverishly getting the new tub, walls, and vanity in. They were almost finished when a rather unfortunate accident happened; Mr. Heckendorf knocked over his four foot level and it chipped the enamel on the side of the tub. You can just see it on the edge of the tub in the photo on the left.

I called the tub company and they are sending a "patch kit." Mr. Heckendorf bought a new tub and wants to pull everything out. I'm for waiting until we try the patch. I'll be the only one who knows it's there but he's being stubborn.

What would you do?
More bathroom photos

Bottoms up Exxon-Mobil

This morning I've received a few e-mails from totally unrelated friends telling me to boycott Exxon-Mobil; hopefully bringing down the price of gas. I agree grassroots involvement is so important and much under rated in our society and we sure could use lower gas prices but hurting Exxon, not as much as you'd wish. Yes, they might notice an excess of supply but they'd just sell it to someone else. Costco and these little independent stations don't refine their own gas and Exxon would just market it elsewhere.

If you'd like to stab these bastards in the ass, reduce the amount of gas you use. Does that mean you have to drastically cut consumption, no because if enough of us reduce, just a bit, it will send that all important message to their bottoms, ah bottom line, that is.

So, make a few less extra trips this week, drive with a co-worker, or get out there and walk. Don't wait for the other guy to do this, you do this now and tell your friends. Ask them to commit to just one less trip a week or walk to lunch instead of driving. Reduce our need for oil and it will help everyone, well maybe not those oil company execs.

Gas Saving Links
Save Gas
Save money on gas
Stop global warming
Calculate fuel costs

Grandma what big paws you have

The better to eat you with my dear.

Yikes, we saw these mountain lion tracks on our hike to Mt McCoy this morning. As reference they are about five inches long. Our naturalist said it was a big cat because of the depth of the claw prints. Bobcats don't walk with their claws extended. This was less than 100 yards from a housing tract and only a few feet from the trailhead. "Oh honey, have you seen the dog lately the dog?"

The weather was cloudy but there was still quite a view from Mt McCoy 500-600 feet above Simi Valley. From the ridge you can see the Reagan Library and, I'm sure, on a clearer day the Pacific ocean. We took our terrier Buddy and even though it was less than three miles round trip he was pooped out by the end and ready for a nap.

The naturalist, Mike was great. He called himself a greyhound which I took to mean we were in for a quick trip to the top but not at all; he stops at every bush. We saw so many wild flowers but this is just the start of the season so I'm looking forward to next weekend. If you want check out my Shutterfly there are a few more pix from the trip including Dan and Buddy at the top. Of course I was there, who'd ya think took the picture!

Clenchers--we are not alone

Blogger supplies a list of blogs they find interesting. I have to say sometimes I wonder if they just throw a dart but I've found some good ones in the past so I do check all the new ones. There is one up there now, The Google Doctor and I poked my nose into this site not knowing it was an actual Dr. This site is worth sharing if only for the links. Dr Razavi has enough interesting links to keep any hypochondriac busy.

About twenty years ago I broke my tail bone in an unfortunate rollerskating accident and now I know what causes the occasional pain in my rump, I'm a clencher. If you belong to this club, tension headaches, carpal tunnel, neck pain, then read this short informative post that is, if you can release your grip on the mouse. Dr. Razavi's Good to Know Info: Avoid the Clenching Syndrome

Easter Hike

Since we don't actually celebrate Easter darling husband suggested we take a drive. I've been itching to try out a digital camera that my son-in-law loaned me. Dog, husband, me and the camera headed to a local park for a hike. The trails are easy and since I'm just starting to feel better and the weather was so nice we decided to hike a bit. The dog loves to be out with us and after the rain the hills are wonderful. I've put a few photos on Shutterfly so feel free to have a peek. I'm always open to any criticism.

He performs the Pastorale in the pasture

While patching this morning I ran across this site, Pastoral, and felt it needed a share. I've got it bookmarked so I can switch from the ugly news to these quite calming landscapes. Good job, Dave Levison.

You're doing a hellova job-- insert name

I truly didn't want to post something negative, I've been a bit punky lately and wanted to keep things light but you can't seem to avoid these monkeys in Washington. The American people know Rumsfeld, et al, have bungled the war, now generals are speaking up, when will they give this guy the boot?

Not soon enough I'm afraid because the President seems to think Rumsfeld deserves his support. Who looks out for the interests of us Americans?

Where's a camera when you need it

Yesterday, while riding on public transportation, I noticed the young man standing next to me had the hairiest knuckles I've ever seen and he'd shaved his head. Wait. What makes someone lather up the skull and ignore the bushy growth on the hands? Maybe it's a question of where to stop or maybe time because, as women know, once you shave those legs you're a slave to the razor from that point on. I was just thankful it wasn't tank-top weather.

Need a laugh, call Trunk Monkey

I know, this is a waste of time but oh so funny. Trunk Monkey

This old house

Our house tends to creak and groan on occasion. It's a 1964 wood-framed house which isn't old but it sometimes seems to be, well, cranky. Tonight has been one of the noisier in the past months. Could be the change in weather, cold and wet to a long awaited spring. It could also be the earth moving, what we Californios call, "get the hell out of bed, we're having a 'quake."

Being awake and hearing more than one of these grunts I decided to check my favorite site the USGS map of recent earthquakes, I've got it bookmarked. While poking around I found this link and if you select your state there is enough "geeky" information to keep reading for hours, or in my case, keep you awake for hours because now I'm too jumpy to go back to sleep, sheesh.

Oh, in case you were planning to sleep tonight, try reading this little tidbit. It's about Mammoth Mountain and you can find out how many trees have been killed near the lake from toxic carbon dioxide levels. Don't worry, just the trees are dying.

Don't live in California? Try your state, I'm sure you can find something to keep you awake.

Unconditional love in a furry package

My husband and I were lucky enough to be entrusted with our daughter and son-in-law's dogs while they were out of the country. We'd watched these two fluffy white little Maltese before so it was no problem to add them to the kennel.

They were finicky eaters and barked at the drop of a leaf but they never once piddled on the carpet or refused to cuddle in bed. After walks, napping seems to be what they enjoyed best and since I was feeling poorly they were my best friends.

Multi, on the left, is about three times Max's size and if he'd hold still, Max would fit in one hand. I've cooked bigger chickens. Max's problem is he doesn't know he's pint-sized, he thinks like a pitbull. I wish I had his confidence. He established himself as the alpha dog early on and no one has told him different. I love his bravado; he even walks with a swagger.

Our darling Buddy, a wire-haired terrorist in his own right, acquiesced to the little dog immediately. Not that he couldn't have grabbed him by the neck and shook him to death, Buddy was a patient host and only asserted his alpha-dogness on walks. Hey, one can only be so polite.

Poor Multi usually gets the brunt of Max's mischievousness but he does fight back when he's had enough but more than once Max would sneak up on Multi and pounce on him like the attack animal he is. Multi is content to let Max run amok while he finds a human to lay upon.

Sometimes, when I have to find someone to stay with Buddy while we vacation I think about not having the responsibility of a dog and then I think of all the doggy friends we've had over the years. I can't ever imagine not having an animal around; they ask so little and give so much.

The Bark Brothers were here an-all-to-quick twelve days and we miss them now they are back home. Dogs are a lot of work, worry, and responsibility but they are so worth it when they lick your nose. I mean that IS unconditional love, would you lick someone's nose?

Things that make you laugh

Got the blues? Check my sister Weed's post. The little bird has a funny on her blog, as well. Where do they come up with this stuff?

I've also stumbled onto Craig Ferguson on CBS' Late, Lateshow. This guy is hilarious. I was experiencing a bit of insomnia when I first watched his show and we all know--latenight TV with all the infomercials will make anything seem funny--but after TiVo-ing him, and watching in the light of day, his humor stood up. Sometimes he has the odd wanky guest but most are interesting and he actually interviews them something Leno and Letterman rarely don't do. He does let them plug whatever they are plugging at the time but I'm sure that's the only reason they'd appear.

There's always tomorrow, Scarlett

My heart goes out to the Bruins; both team and fans. Because of this symbiotic relationship it is difficult to have one without the other and though they got beat it wasn't for not trying. That big kid would have been a challenge for anyone.

Now, because there IS always a tomorrow, a light at the end of a tunnel, and a silver lining in most clouds, Republican Rep. Tom Delay called it quits.

Made my morning just got a little brighter.

UCLA Wins: no April fools in Westwood

While UCLA stopped LSU cold for their chance to win 12th national title all I could think of was will this be the last one John Wooden sees? I know, a little morbid, but the coach is 95. Of the twelve national titles, ten belong to him and the '64-'76 Bruins. For seven years in a row they were the dominant force in Men's basketball; seven in a row, amazing.

So how does the present Coach Ben Howland feel about it? When asked during a recent press conference if he'd had much interaction with Coach Wooden, this was just a small part of his answer. "... This is always and always will be John R. Wooden's UCLA basketball program that really he started. I am at this point in time the torch bearer and carrying the flag forward." What a gracious man. Read the text from the March 31 press conference.

I hope they go all the way and get to hang a 12th banner in Pauley Pavilion for themselves, for their fans, and I think Coach Wooden would take some pride in that as well.

LSU, ask Gorgonzola's Morrison if big baby's cry

The only thing between the UCLA Bruins and the chance to play for the Championship on Monday is LSU and their behemoth, Glen Davis, known to all as Big Baby. I think the Bruins have a chance even though it might be easier for the team to jump over Davis than walk around him. Even though this guy is big and LSU isn't know to be a soft team--don't discount the Bruins--Coach Howland will have them well prepared for this event.

Go Bruins!

Who knew there was such beauty in oil

When you are in Southern California, and you know you all want to come, do plan to visit either the Getty Center in Los Angeles or the newly opened Getty Villa in Malibu. You'll need reservations, can be found online, for the latter but plan ahead.

If you can't get Villa reservations, do visit the Getty Center. It sits in the Santa Monica Mountains above Brentwood/Belair and on a clear day, has a fantastic view of Los Angeles. My favorite view is at night when the lights make the city sparkle like the jewel it is. The collection, Middle Ages through the present, is small enough to enjoy in a day, if you don't dawdle, but big enough to satisfy. No reservations required, just a parking charge of $7. Who can beat that? Our European visitors are always amazed we don't charge to enter the museum.

Don't care for museums? Just the garden, the architecture, and the views are enough, plus there is a four-star restaurant, needs reservations, and a great cafe at the Center. The Villa, though smaller gardens than the Center, houses the antiquities from Mr. Getty's collection of Greek, Roman, and Etruscan art. Due to limited parking at the Villa, reservations are a must, no one emitted without a ticket. Check for available tickets. They are booked through July of '06 but ever so often they let more tickets go. I'd suggest signing up for their e-Getty Newsletter as you will be notified when more tickets are available.

I've volunteered at the Getty Center as a docent since 2000 except for the two-year hiatus in Bakersfield, but I try not to think of that. It is a wonderful place and I smile thinking of how lucky I am to be there. Do plan to come and if you're there on a Wednesday you might just see me, I'm the one with the big smile.

A second letter home from camp

It rained today at Camp Buddy so we signed up to learn wrestling. The staff says we are doing quite well and hope to bring home a medal. We miss you but are having fun.

A beautiful display of the First Amendment

3/25: Los Angeles: Between Half-million to One Million People Protest against Anti-Immigrant Law! http://www.NoHR4437.org

Aren't you proud to live in this country where 250,000 people can assemble in a peaceful protest? Not so proud of what Congress is trying to do? Contact your Senator and voice your opinions of this anti-immigrant law. The link is in the upper right-hand corner.

They're happy in Westwood AND Tokyo tonight

After a nailbiting first half the Bruins pulled through to make it to the Final Four. Unlike the Gorgonzola game I watched the whole thing, dinner was even held up for the last few minutes until we could safely celebrate.

I'm sure my daughter and son-in-law found a way to watch the game even though we think it was about 4:30 in Tokyo.

Go Bruins!

Lorna's favorite flavor; free

I never was sure if anyone, other than my family and close circle of friends, was reading my blog until I stumbled onto Site Meter I was shocked to see that people actually do view it and some people, other than the afore mentioned, do read it. Or, they've fallen asleep at the computer with my blog on the screen. Hey, let me hope someone likes my writing. The big plus here is it's free. Don't you all just love the intranet? And while it's still free you might be interested in what big business would like to do with the 'net. Common Cause

No child left untouched

Ok, I have no children, nor grandchildren this age but this is a very disturbing section of the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001. Why to get funding do schools need to supply information to recruiters? If anyone has a viable answer to this, please educate me.

SEC. 9528. ARMED FORCES RECRUITER ACCESS TO STUDENTS AND STUDENT RECRUITING INFORMATION.

(a) POLICY-

(1) ACCESS TO STUDENT RECRUITING INFORMATION- Notwithstanding section 444(a)(5)(B) of the General Education Provisions Act and except as provided in paragraph (2), each local educational agency receiving assistance under this Act shall provide, on a request made by military recruiters or an institution of higher education, access to secondary school students names, addresses, and telephone listings.

For the rest of the text please view

No child left behind section 9528

A letter home from camp

Dear Daven & Lorna

We are having the time of our life here at Camp Buddy. Here we are in our playhouse with our counselor, Dan.





Here we are at nap time, camp keeps us very busy but we are lucky counselor Dan likes to nap.

We miss you and are being good campers but the food sux, same old stuff.

Multi and Max

Gorgonzola melts

I wasn't much of a fan last night, I know, I'm ashamed. They played so bad in the first half I gave up, lucky that the Bruins didn't.Was awakened by my daughter's phone call. It took a moment to realize the screaming on the other end meant they'd won.

This pix is great; Bruins Arron Afflalo helps a distraught opponent. Boy, that says it all. They never gave up, even though they'd been down 17 points, and they still took time to be compassionate. Be proud coach Howland, you've done a fine job.

We all have heros

I have a friend who uses W.W.J.D? which for her means "What would Jackie do?" Jackie? Yes, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, this friend is very fashion conscious and tries to model herself after that stylish first lady.

Three f'ing years and counting

Ever wonder why would so many people supported the war in Iraq three years ago? It was the Dopeler Effect: the tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly. Ah, George Bush, you fooled us again.

Feeling rather frustrated that I've not done enough I attended a candle-light vigil last night in Thousand Oaks to protest the war. It was pouring down rain and sadly only about 25 showed up but did meet some like-thinking-individuals and that made me feel better.

The vigil, on a very busy corner, did get some positive support from passersby and only one comment screamed from a passing car, "Go back to San Francisco you fucking homos." Now this did get a laugh from the group, so in a way, we needed that Ignoranus, a person who's both stupid and an asshole.

Tired of feeling frustrated? Find an organized protest in your area and excercise your First Amendment Rights before they are a thing of the past. United for Peace & Justice

Added March 23--for your edification. My sister has some great quotes from Tim Russert on her blog.

If dogs go to heaven

Found this blog while looking for something else, as is always the case. The blog is interesting but this poem will now be one of my favorites. Sadly it is from a poet that has recently passed. I would have liked him if for nothing else than the dog on his lap looks like my long gone Sheba, the world's sweetest dog. So if dogs go to heaven he'll have my darling Sheba to to love.

Why dogs stopped flying

Crystal, more than preserves

I had a friend, Crystal who was born in New Orleans, and when they'd pass by this sign her momma 'n them would tell her that's where they got the idea for her name. I found this photo on the Crystal Hot Sauce site. It made me smile because our dear Crystal died a few years back and I sure do miss her, especially around Mardi Gras. Even though she was transplanted in California she always planned our Mardi Gras "feast" at work complete with "throws" she'd collected. She was a doll.

Sorry you're not with us anymore Crystal but wherever you are I know you've written and directed a play, sewed all the costumes--and made a great pot of red beans and rice for the after party.

Let the good times roll,
Crystal M. St. Romain
July 8, 1957 - May 16, 2003

Beeturia

My sister's post about a yummy beet recipe made be think of something that happened to Dan and me a few weeks ago. I'd bought some beets at the local farmer's market, boiled them and served them with just a bit of butter and salt and pepper. We like them but these beets were exceptionally red and that next morning I was startled by the color of my urine but then remembered the beets. When I'd asked him if he experienced this phenomenon he was quite relieved to find out it was only the beets.

The following is an explanation from a great website called World's healthiest Foods

If you start to see red when you increase your consumption of beets, don't be alarmed. You're just experiencing beeturia, or a red or pink color to your urine or stool. No need to panic; the condition is harmless.

First Amendment? D'oh!

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

— The First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution

In a survey more people knew more characters in the Simpsons than they did freedoms protected by the First Amendment. If you can't remember what freedoms it protects then you won't know what you're missing if they take it away.

The First Amendment protects freedom of religion, speech, press, assembly and petition.
R--eligion
S--peech
P--ress
A--ssembly
P--etition

Now say this:
Robert
Says
Protect
All
People

Now remember this:
Religion
Speech
Press
Assembly
Petition

Good, now teach your children. The First Amendment Center

Get the elephant gun!

For your viewing pleasure and damn edification!

Funny cartoon this morning from political cartoonist Tom Toles. Most people can't seem to see past this giant beast to realize that the GOP controls everything in this country right now and if we ignore it, the evil empire will continue to feed us just right amount of pablum, baby cereal for you younger people, to keep us fat, dumb and happy.

Wake up and smell the money.

All this kafuffle about the American ports spinning your head? Read "cleptocracy" for a great explanation of what's going on with Dubya, Dubai and the Dodos in Washington.

Tres loca mujares

A food blog from three crazy women who just happen to all like food, go figure.

Peanut Butter Étouffee

You too can rock

You rock, Vault Radio.

This is music, folks, the music of my youth and who doesn't want to revisit that. Not the youth part, hell no, but the music part for sure.

I wasn't lucky enough to see/hear these groups in person, my shame I know, but now I can listen to what is probably some of the purest music around; live music. Unless you were there where would you hear Dylan performing The San Francisco Bay Blues, LIVE?

Interested? Haul yourself over to Vault Radio and find out for yourself. Music, rock history and as a special bonus, if you have the bucks, some vintage junk to buy. Why? Because you know all of you aging "flower chillins" have sold out to the establishment, moi included.

Who works this long on a shower?

I've drifted far from blogging these days and can't say why. I'd love to say I've been so productive but that would be a big fat lie. I've not done much outside of a small amount of reading, some cooking and helping Dan tile the bathroom shower. Yes, we are still working on bathroom number one. This project is being brought to you by two people who, before retirement, would have stayed up nights just to get it finished yet now are quite complacient with this progress. It does amaze me that we've taken so long, not troubled but amazed.

We are to the ordering-the-custom-shower-door stage which is causing some concern. We've measured six ways to Sunday but Dan still wants to have a friend come by and doulbe check what we've done. These glass shower enclosers are not cheap so I understand his concern. My concern is will we ever get to shower in this room?

I don't know why I'm in a hurry because when we finish this one we'll start on bathroom number two. This sometimes keeps me up nights but I must get over it. We'll need to "gut" which is such an ugly word, bathroom number two right down to the bare walls. That means, lots of dust and mess and back to one toilet again. How I've been accustomed to two bathrooms. My step-mother was raised with ten in her family and growing up they only had one bathroom. The horror! Which brings to mind, I didn't have the pleasure of an extra bath until I moved to this house but growing up there were four of us so that wasn't as bad. I do remember at times, the agony of one toilet and a father with the new Reader's Digest.

If I were smart I'd take this in-between time to do something different like a small vacation. I think I'll start working on Dan, the smell from the grout sometimes makes him light-headed.

Home improvement for fun and profit

I've been very lax with my postings, must be I've got other things a doin'. Before Thanksgiving Dan and I started the master bathroom tile project. We'd gotten more than one bid over two grand, just for the labor, so we decided to give it a try. Tile isn't that difficult if you take your time and since we'd tiled two bathroom floors in my house in Bakersfield we thought we were pros. I'm glad to say we are doing a great job, albeit slow. We took off a week plus to celebrate Thanksgiving and entertain a friend visiting from the Pacific Northwest. Here is what we accomplished before our short hiatus.

photos

Cheney: indecent exposure

I really wanted to post volumes about our dear Vice President but the more I read the more depressed I feel so I've decided just to mention how indecent he is. That's the only word right now I can use. I'd rather be more eloquent but "motherfucker" keeps coming to mind so I'll stick with indecent. The definition of the word, "offensive to public moral values, immodest," seems to stick to him like glue so indecent is what I'll call him for now. Just read any news article about him for the last three days I think you'll agree he has exposed himself for what he really is, indecent. You can almost hear his teeth grinding as he back-peddled about the Murtha incident. Face it Dick, this is an immoral war you and the other henchmen dragged us into.

What I actually wanted this post to be about was being thankful. So what if we only get mushy this time of year and collectively voice our thanks; I'm thankful for being able to live in a country that allows me to voice my opinions about anything. I hope we'll be able to do it forever.

Ya gotta spend a grand to look grand

The granite came yesterday, much earlier than expected but we did not tell them no. The grief of working with plywood counter tops can only be measured in the number of splinters so I was more than thrilled to get the granite.

The kitchen isn't big but my plan was for more than enough counter space. Not that I have much out, I evaluate each item on it's "counter worthiness" before it finds a permanent home. When I cook I spread out and this will be a great kitchen to move around in. The big deep sink will hold all those pots, dishes and pans I like to dirty and the trash is close to the prep area.

The granite was a tight fit and needed some modification. I felt sorry for the installers because what they thought would be a quick job turned into six hours. I wasn't in labor that long though you thought they might be birthing something the way they grunted and groaned. This stuff is heavy, even the small pieces.

When they left I noticed a not-so-much-of-crack but a fissure. After a call to the salesman I was relieved to know this was no problem, happens from time to time and someone would be there to "heal" this fissure. I wasn't all that sure and I spent the rest of the evening going back to look at it. Nothing I could do, maybe I thought it would heal itself spontaneously.

They arrived at about 2:00 p.m., sanded, polished, filled, polished some more and in an hour they were gone. You can't see it and only I know it's there and now everyone that's reading my blog but I dare anyone to find it. Hey, that could be a party game for my open house. My big concern was what would it look like in ten years but everyone assured me the joints are stronger than the actual granite so nothing to worry about. Being a somewhat trusting soul I believe them. What else can I do.

I am thrilled, so far, with the granite and if anyone is looking to invest a bit in your kitchen, go for it, it does look grand.

Who's on Frist?

Majority Leader Bill Frist is more concerned with the security leak than he is with the secret prision. Hells bells, without the security leak, latin for someone with a conscience, we'd never know about this stuff. You think Frist would have said anything? No.

Also in this comedy skit we call politics, Pat Robertson is calling in the "wrath of God" for the poor folks in Pennsylvania. Not unlike when he warned Orlando with the same biblical threats when they flew rainbow flags in support of sexual diversity. Either God didn't care or he doesn't have a map because Orlando has pretty much been spared of any hurricane activity.

If God didn't strike that old fool dead for calling for the assassination of Venezuela's President for being a critic of Bush then he's surely not listening to Robertson, too bad the Christian Coalition does. Take a clue from your creater, don't listen to Pat Robertson.