Morning sunshine

I found this link years ago while reading the blog of a fellow graphic artist. I have since lost the link to her blog, but I kept the link to "Orisinal Morning Sunshine." It's a bunch of simply-designed, engaging games that are fun for the whole family, although my boys tend to get bore with them. Have a good time, unless you're Riley or Lennon. :)

Pigtails

I wore pigtails today to work. I don't know how appropriate that is for a 40 year old, but I was feeling youthful today. And really, really tired of my current haircut.

It also happened to be our company Christmas party, and a very good friend of mine came up behind me and whispered (and you'd have to know the guy to understand how truly innocent it was) how he was "strangely attracted" to them. Now, far be it from me to be bothered by someone being attracted to me or my pigtails. What got me was the "strangely" part. What the heck? It cracked me up though. He would be totally mortified to know that I actually posted this on my blog, so he will remain nameless.

Oh, and at said party I won a Nikon Coolpix 8meg camera! I was shocked to say the least. No, I didn't use it to take the attached picture. Another friend of mine was walking past my office and saw me struggling with trying to take a self portrait. She said I looked ridiculous and offered to take the photo for me. So here it is, courtesy of Jackie. I guess self-portraiture is something you have to grow up doing, like setting VCRs or DVD or (gosh, those really date me) Bluray players. And yes, I remember Betamax. But I digress.

Now you can tell me if a 40 year old can get away with pigtails, strangely or not. :)

Horse sense

If any of you have spent a lengthy amount of time around my father, you've more likely than not heard his horse stories. Apparently, horses do not like him. I won't divulge details here, because I'm not anywhere near the storyteller he is. I have to say though, that it seems to run in the family. Is it possible to inherit a horse-hating-human gene? To be fair, I love horses. I simply mean, is there some kind of gene that horses recognize that tells them we are not to be liked? I don't know, that's probably for another post.

At Heidi's request, I'll tell the story of what happened to Sandra and me with the horse. It was my Uncle Tom's barrel horse, and he was a beauty. I wanted so badly to ride him, and correct me if I'm wrong, Sandra, but I think he threw you first. Which says a lot about my sense, eh? Or horse sense, if you'll excuse the pun.

Sandra rode the horse one day coming down the road from Tom's house. At a full gallop. I remember seeing it all happen, but that could be my mind playing tricks. What I remember though, is that at top speed, Sandra lost control of her seat. She was thrown from the horse, and landed at the base of one of those monstrous trees that lined Tom's road. She had quite the bruise, I'm sure.

Not to be outdone, I took the horse out soon afterward, probably the next day. It was a simple enough ride--it's not like I was asking him to run in the Derby or anything--but that horse just did not want to go where I wanted him to. I'm sure he could tell I was inexperienced, young, and easy to throw. He wanted some grass from the front yard, and no matter what I did I could not convince him to go anywhere else. He took matters upon himself to get what he wanted, and he started spinning. I held on as long as I could, but soon realized that the horse was a lot more motivated than I was. I let go. The next thing I remember was looking up dizzily and seeing a woman running from the road towards me, asking in a thick (I think German) accent if I was ok. I mumbled something in the affirmative, then stood, shook myself off, and tried not to tell anyone about my bruise--my ego. There was the horse (does anyone remember his name?), calmly munching grass in the front yard. Just like he'd planned all along.

But that's not the end of the story--at our ward Christmas party that year, the person in charge of giving out virtual gifts took it upon themselves to give Sandra and me glue-seated pants to assist in any future horse-riding adventures.

I never did find out who told them. Dad?

Government intrusion at its finest

Oy! I shall try to maintain my composure. I recently had to renew my driver's license, and on the form they ask if you are taking any medications for various ailments. BIG warning--never tell them if you are! I am now being tracked at least annually, and will be so until I have quit taking my meds and am "stable," er, excuse me, have "had no symptoms" for 2 years.

Now that I am less of a threat than ever, either to myself or anyone else, the government thinks it their responsibility to watch over me. What a load of garbage. Think of the cost associated with printing these forms, mailing them, logging them, etc., etc. The lady at my clinic says they receive about 40 a day!

OK. I feel better having gotten the warning out to at least somebody. Now where are my meds...

Sorry Heidi, the horse story will need to wait for another day. ;)

Family ROCKS

Carmen, Brenna, Lauren, me, Mary, and Sandra. And in the back there, doing all the work, are Tom and Jesse.

This is some of my family during our 2006 reunion. We rafted the Snake River to celebrate my parents' 50th anniversary. You may wonder why I'm posting about it now, and I have to blame my friend who writes for the Tribune. Or maybe it's my dream's fault: last night I dreamt that my friend, I, and another friend were preparing to go boating on a mountain lake in blizzard conditions. That led to questions, and then to stories about boating incidents, particularly with canoes.

That got me reminiscing about this particular reunion, and how much fun it is to be on the verge of death with large numbers of your family. :) Seriously, there were moments on this trip that were absolutely terrifying. But we all survived, and I'm sure most would laugh about much of it now.

How many of you remember Nelson practically slicing off his finger? Or how about "Row for your lives, you scurvy dogs!"? Two sisters going in the drink, as Dad would say; cold weather; the river at its highest in 50 years, according to Dad; yummy food, like chili, the stuff Beth and Dom made (can't remember what it's called, darn it), and of course whatever I cooked, ha ha.

I just wanted to acknowledge my awesome family and tell you all how much I love you. Here's to another 50 years of celebrations!