Monthly Archives: September 2016

Relief from political distress, day 39…

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On the road to Mammoth Hot Springs in northern Yellowstone National Park, there is an area close to the main road filled with boulders, presumably resulting from a long ago mountain land slide. The place is impressive. What’s more, when you gaze up that pulverized mountain side, you can’t help but allow your mind to try and fit the fallen boulders together; like a giant jigsaw puzzle recreating that mountain side before they all tumbled down to their current resting places.

In one area, there is a small turn around that we used as a method to get off the main road and drive in between a few boulders. When we reached the the main road again, my husband paused while I took a few more photographs. That’s when we both said, “Hey!” “Hey what?” The other members of the car replied. “Look,” my husband said and pointed toward a boulder directly in front of us, but across the main road.
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“What are you pointing at?” The boy asked while I continue trying my best to get a better cleaner shot of an animal who blended perfectly with the rock surface. “In the rock opening, do you see him?” His father replied. On his second look, the boy spotted the tiny Pika, hanging out on the boulder. “Wow, he’s so tiny!” the doll added when she found him too. “I didn’t think they were that small…” My husband remarked and the boy concurred. “I didn’t either, but he’s a cutie…” He said.

We sat in the car watching that little guy for a good five minutes until another car came out seeking an exit too. Snapping a few more pictures, we bid goodbye to the little creature and then moved onto toward our next destination; happily excited over finding one of the smallest animals the park had to share.

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homecoming doll…

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Monday, when I picked the doll up after school she excitedly jumped into the car and said, “Mum, Allie is gong to homecoming…” and then let out a big happy sigh. “She is? Good. Do you need me to drive…?” I asked and was met with a resounding “Yes”.

“Mum is going to homecoming, Mum is going to homecoming, er I mean, my doll is going to homecoming, with her best friend Allie and I could be more happy. For the first time in four years, I have a kid going to a dance who not only wants to attend, but also hasn’t being coerced or bribed into doing so.

The funny thing is, my doll (unbeknownst to me) has been planning to attend this Homecoming dance since she first visited the school last year. After the first week of school she asked me how she’d go about buying tickets for the dance. “Doll, why don’t you ask in the main office…” I replied. At first, her plan was to invite her friends from last year (who attend different area schools) to come along as her “dates”; that is until that plan was quashed by the school’s administration, “Students are allowed to come with their friends at CCHS, but we do not have them bring a group of girls from other schools…” “Yeah, I can kind of see their point of view…” the doll said, disappointed, but understanding at the same time.

Since her safety-net of friends would not be attending, that left Allie as her only recourse, or so I thought…

On Saturday, one week before the Homecoming dance, the doll reminded, “I need to find a dress for the Homecoming dance for next weekend.” Knowing she had not been invited by a boy, I asked, “Is Allie accompanying you?”  “I don’t know if she’s asked her mom yet, but I’m going regardless if she goes or not…” She replied rather confidently. “Who would you be hanging out with then?” I asked. “Callie from my lunch table said she was going and my friend Meghan will be there, though she’ll be on a date…” “Soooo…” I tried, “So, I’m going no matter what,” she replied. I wanted to, with all my might ask, “Who are you and what have you done with my shy introverted daughter?” but refrained from doing so. After all, this means Mum is “going” to Homecoming too.

Relief from political distress, day 40…

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Ripped from the headlines (I kid you not):

  • Johnson Can’t Name One World Leader!
  • Busted! Hillary Caught Signaling Lester Holt on Six Different Occasions for Help!
  • Donald Trump Claims He Lost Debate Because His Mic Was Defective
  • Jill Stein Escorted off Hofstra Campus Ahead of the Debate!

If you ask me, Jill is the only choice here. I mean, all she’s being accused of doing was failing to carry her ID with her. Then again, this could be viewed as a scandal for voters too (I mean really, how hard is it to carry a wallet these days?).

Okay, as you were…

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dsc_0283-2While traveling through Yellowstone National Park last July, as we made our way through the park, I became attracted to a small lake we crossed over and back (several times) every day. On our last time through the park, I asked my hubby to pull over so I could take some photographs of this mysteriously beautiful lake. One of the things which attracted me, were the beautiful yellow flowers which grew atop the lake’s surface. After snapping some shots, we stopped for a moment and read from a placard, “Isa Lake, straddles the continental divide and is believed to be the only natural lake in the world which drains to two different oceans, Pacific to the west and Atlantic to the east”. Imagine that! One lake, two different directions and the only commonality between the two are the beautiful yellow flowers growing atop the lake’s surface.dsc_0284-2

Anyone else see a parallel to our election here? Two base parties, moving in two different directions, straddling the continental divide of political ideology and the only common element between them are the people they are trying to serve. The one exception being, Isa Lake’s beautiful yellow flower. Can we claim to be collectively as beautiful?

Time will tell.

 

Blackout date with mom…

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“Tell me, out of ten, how would you rate this evening?” I asked the doll as we were driving home. Considering that she was doing me a favor, I expected the score to be low. I mean, dinner hadn’t worked out as we had hoped…

  • “You know, the only reason I’m going is because you promised me dinner…” She reminded as we drove to the downtown area of our hometown. “Good music, good food…” I smiled and then thanked her once again for coming with me that evening. But when we arrived at the restaurant, they had a twenty minute waiting list. “You know, let’s see if we can find something else,” I offered, and we began to our search. Halfway to another restaurant, she spotted a Subway sub shop and said, “We could always eat there…” “Are you sure, I mean, it’s not quite like the dinner I promised…” “I’m hungry and I like their sandwiches,” She said. “Alright then,” I replied as turned to walk into the restaurant.

…and she was missing an important football game off campus.  What made this game so important was for the first time she would have had the opportunity to hang out with her new tentative friends, outside the safety of the her school setting, and she has a closet full of appropriate colored (blackout motif) clothing to fit in with the rest of the student body.

  • “Mom, look at this picture of Allie, she has black paint on her face…” She said with a lilt of disappointment in her voice. “I’m sorry baby,” I began and then tried to guilt her out of making me feel guilty, “…but you promised me, you’d come with me…” I replied. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to make this easy on you either,” She replied and smiled. I nodded, leaned over to hug her. In return she pushed back, saying “No,” then turned her attention elsewhere, which made me laugh.

As the event happened around us, I did my best not to embarrass her (too much) by dancing and singing uncontrollably. “I’m going to stand now…” I said and she followed along. Other times, she sat watching the crowd around us and while she didn’t outwardly express delight at what was happening, she also, did not outwardly express disgust either.

“So, on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate tonight, considering you’re not a country music fan and all?” I asked as we drove home. I expected a her to express a low ball number, as punishment for making her come along. “You know my science teacher laughed at me when I told her why I wasn’t going to the game…” She said to me earlier. But she surprised me saying, “Oh, an eight and a half,” but didn’t elaborate. “I thought the Dixie Chicks sounded great…” I replied. “I liked the one song that made fun of the election process and dropped confetti on us,” She said with a smile. “I know you don’t necessarily care for that genre of music, so I’m happy you enjoyed yourself somewhat,”I said and then added, “Thanks again for coming with me”.  Nodding her head she replied, “You’re welcome,” the turned her attention back to her iPhone.

Stock answers…

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“Hey mom,” The boy yelled up the stairs,”today is the last day for my Spotify.” Which was his way of asking me to pay the streaming music app money to keep his subscription active and commercial free. I in return offered him my new stock answer for whenever he wants money for trivial matters, “Get a job”.

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“Bay let’s work on filling out some college applications,” I told the boy Sunday. “Mom, we’re doing this in English class, I don’t have to do this now,” he replied. “Bay, we need to get a head start on this while there is an abundance scholarship money available,” I argued. “But if I’m doing them in school, with people who know what their doing-as opposed to you then I shouldn’t have to do them at home too…” He returned. 

“Bay, for once in your life, could you do as I ask without arguing with me?” I asked. “Not when it’s dumb,” he replied, puliing out one of his own stock answers he reserves especially for me.

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“Mom, these headphones you gave me are defective,” The boy informed. “Hmm, they’ve worked fine for me over the last 2 years. Of course, I didn’t wear them 24/7 like you do….” I retorted. “You’re purposely being obtuse and missing the point,” He complained. “Which is…?” “That I need new headphones,” he replied. “No, the point is, you need a job to pay for said headphones and any other incidental you deem important…” I replied. “You sound like a broken record,” he complained. “Then do something about it..” I replied. 

Relief from political distress, day 42…

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The day after thoughts…

I was pleasantly surprised  last night when, at the start of the debate, both candidates shook hands. All the possible scenarios of a well mannered, open debate actually seemed possible. That is, until they opened their mouths to speak. One appeared to be nervous and unprepared, the other confident and ready. At times, both eschewed the truth–or rather, their recollections of  the truth. But only one continually interrupted, tried to talk over the other and in the end placed blame on the microphone (given to wear) not working properly, rather than admit they should have been better prepared.

As with elections and life, one must be aware of the many traps laid out around us…

Caution… Beauty is in the eye of the beholder…

If you're a grasshopper, watch out where you jump when a fairly large middle aged woman with a camera approaches... you might find yourself in a pickle...

If you’re a grasshopper and a fairly large woman with a camera approches, look before you leap, lest you find yourself in a pickle…

or being turned into one...

and increase the odds of becoming one…