The Un-Photo

Ah, the posts I could publish...if only I could find the battery charger for my camera.

I could film Kharma's advanced doggy classes. I could show you my pond in all its frozen glory. I could take pictures of this year's Christmas decorations as they slowly take over every corner of our house. I could show you before and after photos of the garage as I make room for a car to actually fit into it.

Hey! I could show you how to deconstruct a queen-sized mattress and box spring. Making it disappear was seriously satisfying.

All those lost opportunities! Instead, I have a keyboard and a blog. A blog with no pictures.

I never realized how much I rely on my photos for inspiration. I've come to rely on them as a kind of shorthand journalling as I chronicle the more interesting aspects of our daily life. Maybe I've become a lazy writer. Maybe I long ago decided that brevity was a virtue appreciated by those of us who plow through our daily bloglist (priority one) and still find time to cook dinner/fold laundry/shop for the holidays.

My sweetie has been occupying the computer desk each evening recently, playing endless games of online Sudoku and Bejeweled, while I search for my battery charger under the guise of accomplishing housework. (Let me just state for the record that housework is responsible for my missing battery charger. If I hadn't cleaned our master bathroom and reorganized our vanity, I wouldn't have put the battery charger in a new place that seemed obvious then.) I wish I could rewind my thought processes to discover just where that obvious place is.

This whole situation is a correlary to the maxim that if I throw something away, after not needing it for five years, I will need it within a month. Or that cleaning my desk automatically means it will take me an hour to find a piece of paper instead of the thirty seconds it would have taken had I left my somewhat messy, but secretly organized, piles in place. I never learn. I keep on merrily and sporadically cleaning and organizing like a teenager who can't comprehend cause and effect.

Frustration doesn't help me accomplish anything either. Frustration makes me crave hot chocolate, candy canes, frosted Mini-Wheats, escapist literature, PBJ sandwiches, and long soaks in the tub. I don't get much done and my scale groans every time I come near it. And it's not just the lack of a working camera, it's the flat tire on the 300ZX and the dead battery in the Ford and the two computers under repair sitting on the dining room table and the holes dug by a certain puppy, over and over and over. The lack of sunshine when I get home seems to sap my energy and my ambition.

Yet I've still managed to clean and clear the garage so that my little Subaru is warm and cozy tonight. And I have a good pile of giveaways stacked on my front porch for Thursday's pick up. We found two gorgeous Christmas trees in the forest this weekend. We took one to the Queen Mother and put up her icicle lights in the bargain. And our home is red and green from the hand towels in the powder room to the snowman curtains in the kitchen.

Still...if I had my camera I'd be posting about my flock of Nativity sheep that have finally reached critical mass. I'd be planning a post guiding you on a Christmas tour of my favorite things. Instead I think I'll go In Search Of, yet again.

Wish me luck.

Thanks for the Memories. Not!

During Thanksgiving, I counted my blessings, which are many and vary from family (when they are behaving in a fashion of which I approve) to the bits of new landscaping which have escaped the chewing, digging and general destruction courtesy of a puppy/moose/freight train.

When I exhausted all those easily thought of, I discovered that there have been many things I'm grateful NOT to have.

Foremost this year I am happy not to have the dread Carpal Tunnel. Both hands work and feel perfectly this year and it makes me cringe to remember the pain, sleeplessness and frustration that I experienced last year.

There is a blogger in SLC who is worshipping the porcelain god even as her baby bump grows exponentially--which reminded me that I am never going to be pregnant during Thanksgiving again, thank you very much. It's been a few years, but now I can make my special holiday bread after a full day of work and not blow chunks all over the kitchen floor from exhaustion. I know, I know, more info than you really wanted.

We travelled on holidays with little children for five zillion years and it's nice not to get in the car every November. It means we miss some relatives, but travelling six feet from kitchen to dining room beats an eight-hour drive.

Someday, when I retire, I want to have the house that everyone comes to for Thanksgiving. With a dorm's worth of beds, extra loads of laundry, laughter, political arguments, endless games of Mancala, Monopoly and Uno. And think how thankful I'll be when they all go home.

Coincidence

Another Kinder-Speak moment:

We were looking at the composite birthday chart for both a.m. and p.m. and decided to make a chart of just the a.m. kidlets' birthdays. We had them stand up, month by month, as we made our new graph.

One little girl raised her hand and excitedly told us, "I was born on my birthday!!!"

Oddly enough, I was too.

November Calm

I've been working out--sweating on the elliptical machine and lifting weights.

That's the good news. The bad news is that everything else takes a backseat--blogs, dogs, husbands, dinners, housework.

So, I decided to take a breather and catch up a little on the rest of life. In no particular order:

• I saw Twilight on Friday and loved it. It had enough intensity between Bella and Edward that I've been flash-backing all weekend on all those wonderful moments when I fell in love. The movie theater was reeking of estrogen and it made for a great girls-night-out.
• I recently read The Secret Life of Bees which is one of the best books ever.
• My lawns are both leafless and mowed as close as I could scalp them.
• THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS ARE UP!!! Because November is acting like September; the novelty of hanging lights without a ski cap, gloves and a heavy coat to ward off icy blasts is nice. I'm disciplined enough that I won't turn them on until December 1 though.
• I can't find either green or yellow C-9 bulbs, just clear. WTF?!
• Kharma is going great in pre-agility, although she'd do better if I'd spend time with her. I hope to video some of our class.
• I finished reading The Audacity of Hope (twice). I'm currently reading Dreams from My Father.
• Netflix delivered the first three episodes of The Tudors, in time for a enjoyable three-hour marathon on Saturday evening.
• The planning for Thanksgiving Dinner has begun. Pooh gets the good stuffing this year, courtesy of the Queen Mother, and I can't talk the family's newest cook into making us some off allrecipes.com. Is it illegal to have turkey without dressing?
• I've been tagged for a meme of crazy eights, but it'll have to wait until I have more than a second to spare.
• Mama Mia! is the first thing on my Christmas list, followed by a new blade for my rotary cutter.
• School ends too late and sunset comes too early, so I've been doing my best to get up early and take the doggitys for a morning romp in the pasture. I don't know if it would be easier to get up if I hit the sheets earlier.
• There are not enough hours in the day to get everything done. Or is that just me?

Yippee-Ki-Yay-Ki-Oh!

Introducing my Cowgirl Pillowcase--

--'cause I'm a cowgirl at heart and have been since I was three years old. The Queen Mother made me a leatherette vest with fringe and conchos. I'd ride my palomino stick-horse around the yard pretending I was Dale Evans riding through the hills. (Yes, I know she rode a buckskin named Buttermilk, but I idolized Trigger.)

I also had a cute little skirt and eventually a holster with an ivory-handled toy six gun. I thought Roy Rogers and the Lone Ranger were way cooler than Superman, but on their best day they just couldn't compete with cowgirl fashion.

Now I have to decide which of these cowgirl beauties is the real me.

This is Red. She's very girl-next-door but with those skin-tight jeans you have to wonder just how wholesome she is. She gets top marks for coordinating her gloves and boots.
Sue has a thing for fringe. Don't let her prim looks fool you; there's a reason she's pursing her scarlet lips. I like her color sense--are those boots ostrich?

Hmmm...I've been known to wear a neckerchief like Bunny, but I usually wear my conchos somewhat less strategically placed. And who is she pointing her gun at? And why? She seems more Moonlight Bunny Ranch instead of dude ranch to me.

This is Ingrid. She's a cowgirl wanna-be although she lives in Europe. Someone needs to redesign her skirt--the fringe is great and I love the length, but we need to lose the dirndl vibe.

Patsy and I can both play "Buffalo Gals Won't You Come Out Tonight" on guitar. Her Stetson is my favorite, but can you explain how she and Ingrid are apparently sharing clothes? No wait, I don't wanna know.


Lucy obviously drinks too much. But she's the best friend imaginable when she's sober. And is there anything really wrong with being a party girl?

Jill is a flirt and very good at getting attention when she wants it. She has great taste in horses.

So who's your inner cowgirl: Red, Sue, Bunny, Ingrid, Patsy, Lucy or Jill?

Smile

That would be me, the one with the huge smile that will not go away.

I spent yesterday evening browsing blogs around the world and came away realizing that the international community was relieved and hopeful that America-the-world-leader was back in the game. The faith that others put in us is inspiring and humbling.

The voting turnout in Nevada was incredible. I was fortunate to be paired with a teenage bundle of enthusiasm as we canvassed on Election Day morning through successive bouts of sun, breeze, rain showers and snow flurries. We only found one person who had NOT voted: she was a hundred-and-one years old and the Obama campaign immediately went into action to find her suitable transportation to her polling place.

The Big Guy (our new name for Erkie-pie) spent forty minutes in line as the polls opened at 7 a.m. and we heard others waited for an hour-and-a-half. We didn't hear about anyone who gave up though. I think voters were either inspired or polarized--either way, everyone felt it was important to cast a ballot.

I calmed my nerves by a) shopping for Christmas fabrics and b) lifting weights at the gym while trying to avoid watching the big-screen TV tracking the early returns. Then the K-dog and I attended our preparation-for-dog-agility class where there are thankfully no news reports. When I finally returned home, I found a red-white-and-blue plateful of Kharma cookies from our neighbors and President-elect Obama (!) giving his acceptance speech. Yeah, I got all misty-eyed.

I just knew he would reach out to his non-supporters and I was not disappointed. I'm hopeful that his actions and policies as president can win the trust of his constituency. I think, I hope, I believe that Barack is the real deal--a born leader who can unite our country.

But what do I know? Hey, I think Harry Reid is okay based on the shallow criterions of appearances at soccer games and smelling yummy when he can apparently be something less than kind at times. Or so I hear.

Kudoes to John McCain as he conceded the election with grace, class and honesty.

Thank God for an end to campaign ads. Now we can all get back to Grey's Anatomy and House, blog about something else than politics, make soup on cold nights, and wonder how we can face another holiday season without gaining an additional thirty pounds.

"Cheers!" she said, still with that silly smile on her face.

Proud

Win or lose on November 4th, I'm proud to be an American. We can agree to disagree. We vote and abide peacefully, if somewhat vociferously, with the outcome. We are not perfect, but we are creating "a more perfect union" each and every time we exercise our privilege in the voting booth.

CNN said that Nevada was the easiest state in which to vote. Thank heavens we are first in something, finally!

Early voting was quick and easy. Unless you left it until the last day and then the lines were forty-five minutes long--as my son found out. He's undecided. Not about which candidate to vote for, but whether to get up at the crack of dawn to stand in line and vote or else drag himself home from work and stand in line with all the other workers.

This is the first time I've gone to hear a candidate speak. It was worth getting up at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning. It was worth standing in Peccole Field for three and a half hours to hear him. Our feet were pretty cold but our spirits were warm. Pledging allegiance to a gigantic American flag and listening to a sweet version of our national anthem were inspiring. All around me I heard people say things that I've been thinking for years. Some comments were about what was wrong with our country. But more were about the possibilities that we have begun to sense.

Like many other Boomers, I've been burnt by politicians and the government too many times to count during my voting years. I wasn't prepared to believe that a politician could be idealistic, could be believed, could be trusted. Much to my astonishment, I've been won over. The more I learn, the more I know he's the right man at the right time. He's not perfect, but he's thoughtful, intelligent and calm. More, he strikes a chord that resonates with a positive influence that I can only liken to John Kennedy. He not only makes me believe in him, he makes me believe in our government and in my ability to help change things for the better.

If I'm crying on Wednesday, it won't be because I sat on my rear.

(I just deleted a very long paragraph that began to ooze negativity.)

I've been inspired to campaign, to donate, to help get out the vote. I'm not the only one. Bless everyone who has made phone calls, stood in the cold, walked door to door, manned the early voting locations for long hours, and worked towards a successful outcome. I feel like I'm part of something special.

Win or lose, I cherish this moment when my idealism has resurfaced and my pride in America has never been stronger. As he said at the end of his speech, "God bless the United States of America!"

p.s. Don't believe the derogatory ads about Sen. Harry Reid--he's really a low-key, down-to-earth gentleman from a very small town in southern Nevada and he doesn't deserve to be slandered just because he's a Democrat.