Filling in a blue funk

I'm in a bit of a blue funk right now--still not feeling 100%, tired of the multitude of meetings at work, tired of work, etc., etc. It's nothing big--just a bunch of little things compounded by the fact that I'm not sleeping well because I don't feel well. I've debated taking a mental health day but between meetings I should be attending at work and professional development days when I won't be in school at least one day a week between now and Nov. 9, I don't feel like I should take the time to myself. :::sigh::: So, instead I'm going to wallow here for a bit.

We had a meeting today of the monthly professional development group that I facilitate. The principal has asked that I call to report who isn't in attendance at the meeting so the people who should be at a professional development day actually are or are charged appropriately for the time. When I called to say that one of the people wasn't at the meeting, the secretary asked me about coworker #1 (from last week) because the principal had overheard #1 saying she wouldn't be at the meeting in the morning. She wasn't at the meeting at that time and when asked if I knew why, I told the secretary I'd heard #1 had a doctor's appointment. I offered no other explanation but yet, I still find myself second-guessing my actions. I don't want to cause #1 any more hurt but there are expectations in my position as group leader. Which would include reporting staff absences from this meeting time. I didn't spill any beans but I'm still feeling crummy about the possiblity of it. Or maybe I'm just feeling crummy.

I'm also questioning my ability to lead this group. Maybe I'm really stepping too far outside of my comfort zone to do this. Or maybe it's not my comfort zone--it's more my ability zone. I don't know if I have the right temperament or personality to continue to do this. I sometimes feel like my ass is just flapping in the wind out there. I don't think I've communicated with the group what my expectations of the members are--what, exactly, it is that they should be doing as group members. And that really is my fault because as the group leader, I should have done that. But this can't be a successful group without the active participation of each member. It isn't possible to be passive and be in this group but too many just seem to be hanging out, taking it all in. We had a really good day today--I just don't know if it's what I should be doing. I just don't think I command (or demand) the respect that is necessary in a position like this.

But while I figure that all out, here are a few more favorites from Amy and her family's visit last weekend. Abigail had the camera in the car on the way home from the balloons. Those are her feet, a picture of the sky, and her positioning of her bear in front of the balloons Abigail and Benjamin got at the Balloon Fiesta from one of the booths. I think she has a future in photography. If nothing else, she's probably already met/surpassed my own skills as a photographer.


Last year at Christmas, much to Abigail's delight, "Silly Uncle Paul" went down the stairs. ON HIS BOTTOM. It was, apparently, the craziest thing Abigail had seen up to that point in her life. Now, Uncle Paul is still expected to ALWAYS go down the stairs on his bottom. Again and again and again. (And while he wasn't thrilled about repeatedly going up and down the stairs with the kids, I love this picture of them.)
Watching pizzas be made at Dion's. Abigail was very impressed that they throw the dough up in the air.
Benjamin plays with the building planks at Explora! Children's Museum.
I know this contraption has a name beyond the "air tube thingy blowing up balls thingy" but I can't think of it.
More in the air/wind portion of Explora. There were pegs that went into holes and air was blowing up through them and the air-pressure increased. Um, yeah. Abigail wasn't that interested either. She did enjoy using the magnet to pull out the metal pegs.
Well, if he wasn't going to sleep in his bed (which he wasn't doing), this would work too.
See how Jub is favoring his left paw? That's the limping paw. He'll start to favor it and limp when he feels like he's been mistreated, embarrassed, etc. He limped quite a bit during the Balloon Fiesta week.

The Annual Posting of Balloon Pictures

The first Balloon Fiesta I attended was in October 1997. Paul still makes fun of me because I thought I'd be super-cool and wouldn't need much film for my camera (this being before digital cameras). I had a dozen or so pictures left on a roll--that would be plenty. I ended up buying two more rolls of film that morning.

I still enjoy going to see the balloons and get almost as excited each year. It's a rare year that we don't make it down to the field at least one morning. We even debated going to the balloons on the Monday morning before we left for our honeymoon in 1999 (that being one of the rare years we missed). I think the other one or two times we haven't gone is because we didn't have visitors. But please, if you'd like to come book early because Casa Bookworm isn't very big but apparently (at least this year), it's very popular.

I do insist on rallying the troops to leave the house by 5:30--5:45 at the absolute latest. Otherwise, you get stuck in traffic or get stuck out in one of the way-out parking lots. I never understand people who think they can leave the house 15 minutes before the 7:00 start--at that point, you might as well stay home because you'll watch most of the mass ascension from your car in traffic. Of course, one year my parents, Paul, and I took it to the other extreme and left the house at 4:30. Doesn't take long to make it down to the field at that time of day and we actually got there well before the ticket booth opened at 5:00. But we had primo parking. (And yes, all those times are A.M.)

This year, Amy, her family, and I went to Friday Special Shapes Mass Ascension which is followed by one of the key grab races. It's definitely one of my favorite days to attend and the weather was perfect.

Benjamin and Abigail bundled up to watch the early morning glow of the Dawn Patrol.
The sun comes up and so do the balloons. Just a sampling of the Special Shapes--I'd not seen the green guy before and the Beer Stein was new last year (one of the off-years for us so this was the first I'd seen it).
The Scarecrow and Angel balloons make a stand as they are inflated.
"Luke, I am your hot-air balloon." Darth Vader was the new balloon this year, coming in from Belgium. Stormtroopers made up the chase crew.
The popular Bumble Bees that take off holding hands and give a little kiss in the air. Abigail was disappointed that they separated in the air.

Benjamin needed a better view but his white-knuckle death grip on his dad's head didn't allow David much of a chance to see balloons.
Angels we have heard on high....

She was actually enjoying herself but definitely would have enjoyed, say, a 9 o'clock start time a lot more.
Never thought I'd actually get to see a shuttle launch. (Ha!)
The Key Grab Competition gets underway. The balloons launch from a field to the north and then come over a small rise. Three of the five keys were grabbed by different pilots. The balloons keep coming.
Amy, Abigail, David, and Benjamin
The final balloon stragglers. By this time, we'd headed off in search of mini-cinnamon rolls and more hot chocolate.
To kill a little time while the parking lot emptied, we wandered around some of the booths at the balloon field. Benjamin modeled one of the hats and looks smashing while doing it.

Then we headed back home for much needed naps, another thing I insist on rallying the troops to do. Unfortunately, the wind picked up in the afternoon so the Glowdeo that evening was cancelled. We talked about going to another mass ascension but, as fabulous as the balloons are, there is something about those early mornings that is a bit of a deterrent.

The slow (and a little sad) return to normal

After a very busy week filled with visitors, our last guests left this afternoon. Amy, David, and the kids arrived on Thursday evening and we filled the weekend with a whole lot and not much at the same time. We went to the Balloon Fiesta on Friday morning for the Special Shapes mass ascension. Abigail's reaction was pretty much what I'd expected--and very much like her Uncle Paul's--this whole balloon thing would be a lot neater if it wasn't so danged early in the morning. Thankfully as the balloons went up, the crowds thinned out and we were able to let the kids run around while watching the Key Grab. And after seeing a couple hundred hot air balloons floating by, Benjamin now does a *fabulous* impression of the sound of a propane burner.

Saturday, we went to the children's museum where I think the favorite thing was the elevator. It's probably the size of my living room, with a couch, three chairs, and plenty of room to walk around inside. It only goes between two floors so there isn't really much need for it but I think Abigail would have ridden in it the entire time we were there. We were also able to get in a good hour at the park behind our house where Abigail and Benjamin made new friends and so did Amy and I. As Amy and I were watching Benjamin, a lady that was also there with her two-year-old commented on Amy's Texas Tech shirt, as she is also an alum. She and her husband just recently moved to ABQ and as we were chatting, we learned that she graduated from high school in Canadian with our cousin. (And Scott, Laurel S. says hi.)

And now, Paul and I are working our way through the extra laundry created by a week's worth of guests and cleaning up sticky fingerprints left behind by our four littler visitors. Jubjub doesn't know what to do without little people trying to sneak in pets (which I think even The Cranky One has to admit he liked) and, in the case of Benjamin, following him around meowing. It was hectic week and a little frazzling and overwhelming with all the extra people but this afternoon, as we were heading out by ourselves for the first time in eight days, both of us agreed that we're so thankful to have such wonderful friends and family visiting us.

We just hope they don't all decide to do it at the same time again next year.

Sorry, ladies--he's taken

Paul and I had our final private dance lesson last night (we had 3 private lessons, 2 group classes, and 1 practice class as a result of our gift certificate). Paul went more formal for the lesson, breaking out the tuxedo t-shirt for the evening. We spent most of the class working on the Texas swing, even learning a spin-waist turn-spin combo that nearly made Paul's head explode. But we finally (almost) got it down. Of course, we may never be able to dance without both of us mouthing 1-2-3-4 (or 1-2-3 because I think even Paul can now identify a waltz ).

But we'll get to try because Paul agreed to sign up for more classes--even acquiesced that it might be fun to continue. It was done with the caveat that he doesn't want to dance with other people at the group or practice class because that wasn't fun in his world. Our instructor agreed that that was doable.

Now, we have 15 more classes (and we still have the practice class from our gift certificate) that we can spread out over as much time as we need, which will be necessary given Paul's crazy work travel schedule. Now, we just have to find an event to actually try out our newly-acquired skills.

dancing, dancing, DANCING!

I wouldn't say that we are quite in the category of dancing machines but you can definitely watch us get down, watch us get down as we do, do, do our thing on the scene.

(Just a little Jackson 5 humor for you. Feel free to practice your Robot now because that song will probably be stuck in your head all day.)

Yesterday's dance lesson was deemed a success by all parties involved (which would be me, Paul, and Ben, the very patient instructor). I stepped in the bathroom for a minute before our lesson started and came out to find Paul chatting with the owner of the dance studio. Actually, the owner was chatting; Paul was willing me to pee faster. You see, the owner of the dance studio is a close talker. And he was closely trying to engage Paul in conversation. Why were Paul and I taking dance lessons? Wedding? Dinner/dance? Going out dancing? What types of dances did we want to learn? Have you done this before? Do you like country-western dance? The look of relief on Paul's face when I finally emerged was priceless--he should always look so happy to see me.

Lesson #1: we covered the basic box step, a box waltz, the Texas two-step, the jitterbug, and the merengue.

1. We aren't that bad but definitely are "beginners." Not surprisingly, I'm more "advanced" than Paul which really just means I didn't have to look at my feet the whole time like Paul. And a lot of the dancing I did growing up? Apparently, it's not so technically correct. Fun, but not quite right.

2. Growing up, I (along with my sisters and friends) made fun of various Okies we knew because of the way they did the two-step. Lo and behold, they were actually doing the "Texas Two-Step" rather than the "Progressive Two-Step" which is what I grew up doing. So they weren't wrong; just doing something else. But they're still Okies and I'm sure we'll find something else to use to make fun of them about.

3. There's actually a name for when I start leading when we're dancing. It's called "back-leading"--Paul called it "Carrie, stop pulling to the right already." It was really bad when we were working on the jitterbug. I blame that on the fact that my sister Amy and I would always jitterbug together as kids and I was always the the "boy" when we'd dance. But, just as I've learned in life and am trying to apply to all areas including dance lessons, I don't always have to be in charge.

4. The merengue is probably the easiest dance known to man. March in place with little steps, wiggle hips as desired, turn and spin as you are able. Even Paul and I--the two whitest people on the planet--looked like we knew what we were doing and that we had a little of the Latin in us while doing this dance.

5. Much to my chagrin, dips, twirls, and spins were not covered in the first lesson. Ben, the very patient instructor, said we should try to make it around the floor a few times correctly before we covered that.

Maybe next week.

Second annual

We hosted the neighborhood Christmas party again this year. It's the second year we've done this--it's now our party to host. Last year we had about 35 people at the house--lots of neighbors we didn't know came to the party mostly because of the curiosity about the remodel we'd done. This year, we had a smaller turnout--21 people or so which is a good number for our little house and really the number we'd expected last year--but they stayed longer. These were the neighbors we know and love and see frequently and it was a great party, if I do say so myself. At one point Paul and I were standing together in the kitchen, looking at all these neighbors--our friends--and it made me realize how fortunate we truly are to have found our home when we did.

When our neighborhood was being built about six years ago, Paul and I wandered over to look at a model home one Sunday afternoon. We were just starting the search for a house but we didn't think we were serious about our looking. We'd been married for just a few months and honestly, we just wanted to get an idea of what was out there. We had an idea that we wanted to stay up in the area of our apartment. It's a great neighborhood--quiet, not much traffic--and there were several communities being built with smaller starter homes. We looked at the model home in this community on our second Sunday out, still thinking it would be six months before we might be serious about buying. While looking at the various lots available, we met a few of the neighbors. All of these people invited Paul and me to walk through their homes and see what they'd done with their houses. I think that was a deciding factor for us to build in this neighborhood. That total strangers were friendly enough to let us traipse through their house meant they'd probably be friendly enough to let us borrow some sugar or pick up the mail. As it turned out, those first neighbors are that friendly and even more. Eventually, there were four of us with houses under construction at the same time--including one of our neighbors in the apartment complex--and we got to know those neighbors as well as we dealt with the stresses of building a house. Now, over six years later, we've celebrated weddings and babies, mourned the death of one neighbor, had impromptu cocktail hours after meeting at the mailbox, battled a pigeon invasion that unfortunately originated at our house, and planned dinner parties so we can have a reason to dress up.

Paul and I have looked at other homes in the past six years, thinking that maybe we'd like a bigger house or a bigger yard, but we can't bring ourselves to leave our block. One couple who let us walk through their house that Sunday afternoon moved to Seattle four years ago. Two years ago, they moved back. They didn't like Seattle and while they didn't have jobs in ABQ, they decided that they really wanted to be back in our little neighborhood. They weren't able to move back into their original home but they are back in different home just across the street. I completely understand that feeling of wanting to be here--it's why we didn't buy that bigger house that was a great price two years ago. It wasn't in this neighborhood. Eventually some of the people we know so well will leave and not come back. Maybe we'll be those people. But in the meantime, there is some pull that keeps us here. Something that just says this is where we need to be. Something that says this is home.

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When Paul and I went to the Tech game in October, we stayed at a hotel in Amarillo since Paul was sick. We couldn't stay at my grandparents' house because my granddad wasn't 100% and we didn't want to expose him to Paul's germs. Upon checking out, we laughed when we saw the receipt--it said we lived on "Soberly Trail." I guess they haven't been to one of our neighborhood parties. Here is a new recipe I tried out that was a big hit last night. Super easy to make and tasty to munch while sipping wine, which our neighbors do well.

Parmesan twists (from Real Simple, December 2006)

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Cut one 17.25-ounce package thawed puff pastry lengthwise into 24 strips. Brush with 1 lightly beaten egg. Sprinkle with 1 1/2 cups (6 ounces) grated* Parmesan and 1 tablespoon poppy or sesame seeds** (optional) and twist. Place on 2 baking sheets.*** Bake until golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Serve warm.

*Tried it with grated and shredded; preferred shredded

**Paul was doing the sprinkling--I don't think we used this much cheese or poppy seeds but the twists were still tasty.

***Definitely grease the baking sheets; puff pastry sticks badly as I learned on my first attempt

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Before the party, Paul told me that he wanted to make certain that this year, we got more pictures from the party. He charged the camera battery and made sure that the camera was at the ready. Then he realized why we have so few pictures from parties--it's hard to be the host and the photographer. He managed to snap just a few.

Just before the party--Jubjub doesn't know what's about to hit him. He spends the better part of any gathering we have at the house upstairs under our bed, retreating to his hiding place as soon as the doorbell first rings. This year, he came out while there were still a few guests at the house--he slinked around the living room, not at all happy to have been duped into believing it was safe to come down. Jub even deigned to be petted by one of the guests (who claimed to be "loved by all cats"--obviously, he's never met Jubjub).
The hostess hams it up for the camera. I should have cleaned off the counters before this picture but I was still trying to get food and things ready. When I wear all black, Paul calls it a "ninja outfit." This was the "fancy ninja outfit." I love my shoes--pointy black toes with silver beading on the vamp (and I feel like quite the vamp in them)

Pictures of the neighbors (and yes, we're the youngest in the neighborhood by about 10 years)

Things one should always do on cold days

1. Book hotel room for 12 days in Hawaii next July

2. Book airfare for trip to Jamaica next September

Both of these trips are over seven months away but there is something terribly satisfying about making these reservations while wearing a turtleneck sweater and heavy socks. Just knowing that I'll eventually be warm again makes me happy.

Ho-ho-holidays

The holiday season is now in full swing around our casa. We hosted our church group's Christmas party on Friday night. Unfortunately, Paul had to go to CA for work on Friday morning. He learned of the trip only after we'd agreed to have the party at our house (because I love to play hostess). Even though he's mostly just a handsome nuisance when I'm trying to get ready for a party, it's nice to have him underfoot. It was as I was vaccuuming, while considering all the various other things I needed to do to get ready, that I realized how handy he is to have around and how much I really missed him at the party. Such is our life. I've come to terms with the abandonment issues and I know that he's not doing this to get out of anything or avoid me. But I do miss having him around.

But, before he left, Paul did make his "special dish"--a mainstay at our parties for the past two years after Paul heard about it while listening to a sports radio show. He is always willing and excited to make it. That is, if I'll buy the ingredients and find him a bowl. But it is his dish so he does the actual "work" in creating it. That work involves opening the bag of plain M&M's and Reece's Pieces and mixing them together. Quite the treat.

Last night, we went to a performance of th e Nutcracker Suite. The last time I saw this particular ballet was about 20 years ago. My dad was off hunting so my mom took my sisters and me out for a Girls' Night. We went to a fancy dinner and the ballet. No fancy dinner tonight but I did convince Paul to dress up. My argument lost quite a bit of validity since the people sitting on either side of us were wearing jeans and sweatshirts. :::sigh:::

At an adjoining theater, the National Institute of Flamenco was having their winter recitals. The intermissions of the two performance coincided so we were treated to tiny flamenco dancers running around the lobby, stomping on the marble flooring, and playing chase with brothers, sisters, and other tiny dancers. The NIF had several tables of silent auction items set up and I do love me a good auction. Paul and I "won" several items--6 acupuncture treatments (Paul), 6 couples dance lessons (me), and 2 tickets for any NM Symphony performance (gift for Paul's mom). I had to snipe the symphony tickets at the last minute from NM's Secretary of State. She has commercials that aired frequently during election season so she was easily recognizable (although much smaller than I expected). When she wandered back into the flamenco performance, I was able to raise the bid and win the tickets, happily marking one more gift off the list.

Tonight, I went through the gifts we've purchased so far, relieved to find that we only lack a few stocking stuffer gifts. Paul ordered the gifts for his parents. He's getting his mother an air-soft BB gun. I don't know why. I tried to discourage it. He thinks it's funny. I bought her the symphony tickets to try to distract her from the BB gun. I bought the few last gifts for friends and family--going to have those sent directly to the recipient so I don't have to worry about braving the post office (or worry about getting it to Texas). We'd bought a gift for friends but I changed my mind when it arrived. Not that it isn't a great gift--I just don't think they'll fully appreciate it. And this is definitely something that needs to be fully appreciated. So, instead we sent them a pasta dinner basket. I think they'll enjoy that more. I still need to wrap and mail a couple of gifts but only two boxes. So unfortunately, I will have to brave the post office or send Paul to do the dirty work since one of the boxes is to his brother and family. And I've got to get those Christmas cards mailed out but at least I'm 75% done with addressing the envelopes.

I'm definitely in a much better place this year than I was last year. By this time last year, I'd already become a Scrooge McDuck and was ready to just chunk it all and go into hibernation. I was already realizing by this time last year that I was on a downward spiral but it took another nine months for me to hit bottom and do anything about it. I'm worried about Paul because I recognize some of the same things that I was feeling in him. He's just so stressed and overworked and overwhelmed right now. Work is just crushing his spirit and it hurts my heart to see him like this.

I've got a busy week with a book fair at school and meetings several nights next week. It's also the last week of the semester so I'll be finished with school on the 15th. Paul is gone again the first part of the week but hopefully will have no more business trips until the New Year. We're hosting the neighborhood holiday party next Sunday (our 2nd annual). Then I'm dogsitting for a friend and we're off to Texas for the holidays in two weeks. I can't believe that Christmas is just two weeks away. Because for all the gifts I've purchased and other things I've accomplished this holiday season, I still don't have any wrapping paper.

Mail Order

After church, I spent several hours doing some holiday shopping. I rarely step foot into a store during the holiday season. I utterly dislike crowds and will try to avoid shopping during non-holiday madness because of the people. The crowds and craziness that come with all those extra Christmas shoppers is enough to make me want to collapse into a fetal position. But, it was unavoidable. We're hosting two different holiday parties this year. I needed to get paper goods and some other things for the parties. Just those two hours I spent in three different stores was just about enough to send me over the edge. Even though most of the other shoppers were still cheery and friendly, between maneuveering a cart through overly-crowded aisles and the masses of humanity, I left the last store with a splitting headache and not everything that I need. Hopefully I'll have some free time during the week to pick up those items before the first party on Friday although I'm tempted to just send Paul (who dislikes the crowds and shopping even more than I do but I can generally get one trip to the store out of him because he loves me).

People are always surprised to learn that I'm not much of a shopper (aside from those all-too-frequent trips to Target). There are times when I enjoy it--when I'm with a good shopping companion or just really in the mood. But normally, it's just a painful process because nothing ever fits me correctly or I can't find what I'm looking for at the store. I typically give up on the task at hand and end up buying a new pair of shoes. So most of the time, I stick to online shopping--I'm utterly addicted to the package tracking--and it makes for a much happier Carrie.

The upside of the season for Jub--lots of paper and boxes from all the gifts ordered online:

A Very Merry Unbirthday

Since Paul had to be out of town on my birthday, and because the flat tire and the ensuing run-around trying to get it changed made for a less-than-fun birthday day, Paul and I celebrated my birthday this weekend. He's been hounding me all week as to what I might want as a gift. There's really nothing I need and all the things I want are either utilitarian and boring (a new purse, new dress coat) or more expensive than we normally spend for birthdays. So I've been at a loss as to what to tell Paul to get me and Paul was at a loss to come up with a gift all on his own.

Yesterday, we decided we'd run up to Santa Fe this afternoon. I enjoy Santa Fe, all the quirky shops, art galleries, interesting restaurants, but Paul will typically do anything to avoid going to The City Different. But once a year or so, he acquiesces and will make a trip with me.

We visited the little outlet mall on the edge of SF. And, happily, I was able to find my birthday present.

This is what I originally picked up for a gift. Boring, utilitarian, and on sale (but the perfect size and just what I was looking for in a new purse):

And then, then I saw this. I didn't even know I wanted/needed it:

It is an enamaled cast iron apple pot. Because every kitchen needs an enameled cast iron apple pot. Especially one that weighs in at 11.5 lbs. empty. Paul was in disbelief that this was what I would want as a gift but it was so shiny and pretty that I just had to have it.

Thankfully, it came with a few recipe ideas because I'm not sure I'd know what to do with it other than to look it sitting shiny and pretty in my kitchen. I'm already planning to use it for mulled cider for the Christmas parties we're hosting this year.

And the waiter was so careful to check as to whether my name starts with a C or a K

Oops. Paul teases me about my first and last names being verbs so this misspelling just makes him giggle even more.

The other ladies and I were really just trying to get free dessert at the restaurant last Friday. We ended up being charged for the cake but I got this great photo opportunity out of it so I think it's even. My parents came to Houston on Saturday so I was able to spend time with them and have a birthday dinner with them. And since I had a per diem for the conference, they didn't have to pay me and I sent them home with my leftovers. It was a big happy for everyone.

Today is birthday #32 and I've donned the birthday tiara to make sure everyone knows that it is my birthday. I am now off to find someone to change the flat tire I didn't realize I had this morning and drove all the way to work on. Gah! I feel so stupid when I do something like that. Hopefully no one can refuse a birthday girl wearing a tiara.

Corn Maze, October

Last weekend, Paul and I went with a group from our church to the local corn maze. The general attitude among the group was that even if this was a bust, at least it was a new experience for all of us.

We were given a map that quickly turned out to be utterly useless. Some (probably) teenage hooligans had gone through the maze and taken out the 10 informational guideposts. The Boy Scout troop that was putting the posts back didn't do too good at getting them back in the correct place. And they tuckered out before the task was completed so they put three posts side-by-side. Paul declared that I wouldn't have made a good teenage hooligan because I would have caused trouble by simply knocking the posts down not actually moving them which is, of course, the way a true hooligan operates. But Paul decided he would have made a great Boy Scout because he, too, would have stuck all the posts together although it would have been more to mess with the visitors to the maze.

It was an enjoyable afternoon and I hope Paul and I will go back again to future mazes. The group did decide that the corn maze might be better earlier in the season, when the corn stalks are still green and before other wandering groups had trampled new pathways. And before vandals and Boy Scouts got ahold of the guideposts. Despite our best wanderings, we never could find two of the posts.

Kate and Sam, who were leading the charge--this is shortly before they decided the map was completely and utterly useless

It was a beautiful October afternoon--cool, crisp air with beautiful, sunny blue skies

Looking through the corn stalks

Sandia Mountain as a backdrop for the changing leaves of the cottonwoods

Because before too long, it won't be that exciting to ride in Aunt Carrie's car

On Sunday, the oh-so-big 3-year-old Abigail asked to ride in my car on the way to breakfast. She "likes to ride in Aunt Carrie's silver car because it's fast." I drive a Subaru so it's not like I'm tooling around in a flashy sportscar. Plus I'm even more cautious when I have the kid in the car with me so I'm not sure where she got the "fast" part but I'll take it. It's fun to listen to her prattle on and on so I enjoy having her in the car with me. Here are bits of the conversation we had Sunday morning.

Upon falling off her bike before we left the house: I've got a booboo but I'm OK! No blood! I'm OK!

After I greeted her when I got into the car with a "Hello, Sunshine!": I'm not the sunshine. That's the sunshine (pointing out the window). I'm Abigail and I'm a girl and I'm down here.

As I was driving: Do you know where we're going? I don't think this is the way. Are you sure this is the right way? Where are we going? As long as it's not IHOP. I got sick the last time I went to IHOP.

The door lock: Oh, it's good to lock the doors so they don't open. (I locked the doors) Oh, wait, don't lock me in! We need to have the doors unlocked.

I also had a running commentary on the way home about whether or not the car in front of us was her parents' car (it was), if her dad was driving (he was), and that red lights mean stop and that her momma's car was old and that she liked the song on the radio even though she didn't know it and on and on and on.

One more reason I love the guy

Paul has been sick since he got home from Washington, D.C. on Friday. Not wanting to catch whatever crud he managed to bring home, I chose to give him the bed and sleep downstairs. I slept on the couch Friday and Saturday night. The cat, loving that I was sleeping on the couch, spent much of both nights cruising all over me or lying on my feet or perpendicular to me, shoving me into the back of the couch. Needless to say, it wasn't very restful. Amazing how disruptful 12 lbs. of feline can be.

The past two nights, I've opted to sleep in the guest room since it actually has a bed in it. This is our "cat-free" room. We keep the door shut all the time so there is one mostly-hairless room for our guests with cat allergies. Having slept in the guest room previously, I knew exactly what the cat would do (and it was why I chose the couch over the weekend). For good hour to an hour and a half, Senor Jubjub positions himself outside the guest room door--meowing, pawing at the handle, pawing the door, meowing again and again and again. I think at one time he had his little nose pressed into the crack under the door to meow at me. He does eventually give up and goes elsewhere to sleep but it's a long time coming.

Last night, after both of us trying to ignore Jubjub for about 30 minutes, I heard Paul pad down the stairs to admonish the cat for being so noisy. He told the cat to "be quiet, get away from the door, she's trying to sleep." Initially, Jub didn't listen--stubborn little guy meowed a few more times just for good measure--but Paul did finally win the argument and the cat left for higher ground upstairs. And Paul got a hug and a very big smile from me.

And just because, a picture of the cat (where he isn't supposed to be) as taken by Paul:

The Platinum Anniversary

Paul's family with the guests-of honor

48 stars on the flag in the gym

The gym was built in the early 1950's, when Owen was on the Louisville School Board. It was Owen & Reva's first choice for the party location for sentimental reasons. Thankfully, the afternoon was cool and rainy since the gym is un-air-conditioned. And the gym was actually a nice location because it gave the children plenty of room to run and play without being underfoot.

With Paul's grandparents

Paul's Uncle Tom and Aunt Virgina with Sarah

Roger and Paul holding Andrew and Joshua

After church on Sunday, we met back at Owen & Reva's for lunch and visiting (if you notice Andrew, when I tried to put him on the grass, he refused to be put down; it became quite the party trick)

Sarah and Matthew entertain their great-grandfather while Grandmother watches the rest of us from the porch

Andrew and I visit with Grandmother. She's not able to hold the babies but is always happy to have them near her.

Let's all celebrate and have a good time

So, we're off to Kansas for a family reunion celebrating the 70th wedding anniversary of Paul's grandparents. Their actual anniversary is in April but this was the easiest time for all of the family to gather together. I typically enjoy Paul's family--there aren't that many of them, they aren't terribly loud or obnoxious, none seem to belong on Springer (none of which can be said for my own family).

But as is the case when we visit my family, it's just too many people in too small of an area. One (or both) of us typically ends up with a splitting headache because there are just TOO MANY PEOPLE around and we have to be "on" for the entire time.

And let's just be honest here--Paul and I are borderline hermits. We keep to ourselves, quietly going about our business at home, venturing out to the occasional dinner with friends or various meetings. But usually, the lights are low, the shades are drawn, and we don't even answer the telephone. If we didn't have jobs (and we didn't enjoy the basic things like food), we'd probably cross that line to full-blown hermits. This makes it difficult when we have to be around more than two other people at a time. And then be entertaining and intriguing and engaging. And then act like the other people are entertaining, intriguing, and engaging. Because, really, after about 10 minutes, I've gotten caught up on your doings, you know all about me, and it takes about seven more minutes for you to figure out that we're really dull people with a happily boring life. And we're in a town of about 100 people so we can catch up on all their doings within the half-hour as well.

I'm hoping to meet up with a friend who moved to Kansas from ABQ. She was the band director at my school for three years and we were great partners in crime. Plus, it's a great excuse to escape the inlaws. Not that I don't love them but as I've mentioned to Paul, my own family drives me batty. Why wouldn't his?

At least we're guaranteed some ice cream at some point in the weekend. Paul definitely inherited his grandfather's sweet tooth. Owen loves his sweets--ice cream, chocolates, cookies. One year, we had six pies for eight people, thanks to Owen. We got to have pie for breakfast. And it was good.

Five years ago, we had a big gathering for the 65th wedding anniversary. This party isn't as large but in the past five years, ther have been three weddings and four babies born so at least the family will be bigger. His grandparents are 93 and 92 now--we don't know how many more trips to Kansas we'll be making. And this one will be a celebration.

A random assortment of photos

Jubjub had an itch

One of the giraffes at the Houston Zoo stretches out.

Waffle cup with chocolate ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, and a cherry for Paul--at the ice cream shop on the Square in Bay City

Then next three pictures are from the beach near Matagorda, TX.

The bottle with barnacles. According to six ten pine, a plastic bottle takes 450 years to break down after it's been thrown away. I wonder how long it takes for barnacles to attach to one.

I like this picture of Paul and My Bald Dad on the beach looking for sea shells. Paul had wanted to go swimming but the water was still a little chilly.

Someone got a pretty decent start on a hole to China--it was a good two feet deep.

One of the barn cats takes a nap in the back of the pickup on Easter Sunday.


So, Paul orders a shipping crate for the new company and it was sent to our house. In a box. A shipping crate in a box. We didn't understand it either.


Easily my two favorite people in the world.