life according to me

Tag: Awards

Friday, Rain in Paradise, and Awards…What could be more perfect?

I’m sitting here just like I so often used to each day, wondering where I should begin. No, not with my writing. That’s rarely an issue because I can just sit down and write most anything I feel like writing. Whether anyone wants to read it is a completely different issue, isn’t it? Sometimes, it’s more of a battle with respect to what tone I want to indulge in, or how many distractions there are on my screen that also vie for my attention. I look at the clock in the upper right corner of my toolbar and am always alarmed at where the time has gone.

Some of my diversions are quite relevant, as they relate to current events that occupy my mind like the debate between Hillary and Obama last night (and I’ll bet you just can’t wait for me to spew about the whole health care issue, right?) Or the outcome of the first round of eliminations on American Noodle (and wasn’t that cut throat the way the first kid went out?). But many of the distractions that delay my writing when I actually get to wallow in Bloggsville now, are anything but. They’re more like pleasant detours involving the people I’ve met along the way for nearly a year now that I’ve been writing at kellementology and in the land of foodies. Very pleasant detours, diversions, and distractions, all.

I’ve been trying to get organized, finding that I don’t use my blogroll in either of my blogs. I know. You’re thinking that a blogroll isn’t for me — it’s more to let everyone else know whom I enjoy reading, and to share a link which helps them in the land of Google and Technorati, and all things virtually searchable or something like that.

So in an attempt to keep in better touch with others, I’ve begun to collect feeds in the reader I chose — Netvibes. I know everyone else seems to use Google Reader, but my affiliation with Google is only through my membership in the Daring Bakers, the ever expanding group (I think there are well over 500 members now…) of loveable foodies with whom I bake once a month. My food blog is hosted by TypePad (which is a network I almost never wander around in for some reason), and this one is my very own, of course. Without my connections to MyBlogLog, Blog Catalog, and more recently, EntreCard (which I haven’t developed a strong opinion about one way or the other), I wouldn’t be very good at keeping up with people. Feh, like I have actually been doing that successfully anyway.

So I’ve changed the settings on my Mac to open to my Netvibes home page and am racking up the feeds. I know you’re snickering right now thinking that I’ve been under some rock and that having recently freed myself, have discovered something that has been around since Al Gore discovered the Internet.

Go ahead an laugh. I can take it.

But the big question is — are YOU in my reader?

(more…)

February 22, 2008
Yawn…I think she’s alive. Maybe.
So do you think it’s a problem that yesterday, I FINALLY wrote after so many days, and then when I logged in today to write again WOOT, I’d discovered the post I wrote yesterday…um…not there. Or here. I guess I’d inadvertently marked it “private.” So sorry ’bout that. Now, here it is. And only a day late. Sheesh.

Okay. I’ve sulked long enough. I’ve dragged myself out from under the bush I crawled under to get over myself. Actually, I’m just transitioning between Fall and Winter. Getting ready. I’m not sure what for, but it seems to be something I do. Sounds scientific, doesn’t it?

And since I have serious ground to cover, I’ll start by warning you that I’m loaded with tagging. Pay backs are hell, aren’t they?

About two decades ago, Sam of Temporarily Me (who is slogging through NaBloPoMo like a trooper and is almost there!) smacked me upside the head with something about Crazy 8’s. If you don’t know Sam, you should. She’s completely hilarious and says what my brain is thinking with respect to calling things like she sees them. Plus, she designs her own site and I swear changes the design like someone changes underwear. It’s the best comparison I could come up with, OKAY? Her designs are excellent and when I actually get around to acting serious about design, after I grow up, I want to be just like her. The woman has talent. Be nice to her when you visit. She’s preggers and is a tad cranky right now. Teasing, Sam! Teasing. Don’t hit me, ‘kay?

This oughta take about three years to finish. And I have a sale to run to right in the middle of it just to make sure it takes all day. (Erm…just got back from the sale. The line was down the block, so no.) Moving right along with this Tag-a-Scrum-Dilly-Icious post.

Here are my Crazy 8’s:

8 things I’m passionate about:
1. Solitude. You know. Places with no people in them. Lots of complete silence. I know. People in hell want ice water. Feh.
2. Days with no plans. Lots of them. Like forever.
3. Cooking, food, eating, grocery shopping, looking at cooking magazines, cooking blogs, restaurants, reality food shows, does that cover it?
4. Writing, words, letters, typography, books
5. How much I completely detest jerks in general and people who drive like their face. (Have you ever really wondered what that means?) And….ahem.
6. My Mac and if you touch it you’re toast. Don’t —
7. Being passionate about being passionately passionate about passion
8. My guys (this is here for those of you who have already clucked about my not putting it in the numero uno spot and gimmeabreakalready).
8 things I say often:
1. Sonofab*tch
2. Shee*t
3. Jeez Louize
4. It’s hi-LAR-ious.
5. “Go poopoo over there.” (said to Doggo who will drop her load the SECOND she gets out the door because she thinks she’ll get left outdoors even if she never does and it drives me crazy.) Honestly, I only say it twice a day. But it adds up, yanno?
6. Did you have a good day how much homework do you have?
7. I need that (insert item here).
8. I want this (insert item here).
8 books I’ve read recently:
- You don’t actually think I’ve forgotten about these books or this list, do you?
8 things I want to do before I die:
1. Make a real Beef Wellington. You know. The whole enchilada. I’ve made the individual ones a couple of times. But without the cool music in the background.
2. Renovate an old house part by part.
3. Write something that people will actually purchase. A book would be good.
4. Spend an extended time traveling — mostly in Europe.
5. Enjoy exercising. Okay, so maybe pretend like I’ll enjoy it. Sort of.
6. Develop a REAL sense of patience instead of just acting like I already have it oozing out of my pores.
8 songs I can listen to over and over again, and probably have:
1. Beatles: Help
2. Carly Simon: You’re So Vain
3. Heart: Alone
4. Roy Orbison: I Drove All Night
5. Red Hot Chili Peppers: Snow (Hey Oh)
6. Simon and Garfunkel: The Sound of Silence
7. Harry Nilsson: Without You
8. John Lennon: Imagine
8 things that attract me to my friends:
1. Irreverence
2. Common interests (food, wine, snarking, travel, books, gardening, wine…)
3. Food
4. Wine
5. Snarking (this is NOT the same as number one, so put a cork in it, babe.)
6. More wine
7. Laughter. With snorting involved. It’s a gift.
8. Waxing of possibilities and never doing anything about them.
8 things I learned in the last year:
1. You really can just walk away from a career. Period. Okay, so maybe not with bows on or anything. But you can run as fast as you can and keep watch over your shoulder that it’s not chasing you or hiding under your bed at night. Or in the closet.
2. It takes quite a bit of time to blow the dust off of everything you once loved and gave up for a job. About a year. And then some. And even then, some of it is so lost, reminding you that it could be true what they say about opportunity only knocking once. Pessimistic, but lamentably true.
3. There will never be enough hours in a day to blog and then actually do all of the other things I’d like to do. Okay, I know some of you manage, but I’m not. Make that choose not to.
4. You never will do all the things you say you will do if only you didn’t have to go to work. Because you develop new interests. And then you wish you could do all the things you said you’d always do if only…
5. There are some aspects of not having all my female equipment that are actually enjoyable. Okay. One. Maybe two. But I wouldn’t want it back. I was done with it anyway.
6. Your 15-year-old won’t develop a neurosis from his mother relentless food photoshoots.
7. For some of us, there’s no such thing as a Little Black Dress.
8. There really are things to talk about in the evening that aren’t related to work. They’re not scintillating or anything. But still. It’s nice.
Now, who’s up next:
1. Chick (who’s going out of town, so I can spring this on her unsuspecting self)
2. Meleah (who’s probably already been smacked with this one and 10 others)
3. Cooper (who less than loves these things but actually did one not too long ago, so…)
4. Robert (who will most certainly put a redneck spin on this)
5. Olga (who can do this in her sleep, but really because I want to see if she can connect all of it to the “girls.”
6. mel (whom I’ve harrassed with this stuff since the beginning and she’s smart enough to ignore me)
7. beth (a used to be Paradise resident whom I hope will forgive me because I haven’t known her all that long)
8. if you’re not on this list and are brain dead, by all means, sign yourself up. This one’s not too horribly painful. And besides, you won’t be able to tell if you’re brain dead.
Okay, so now, here’s round two (and I know there are some others, but this will have to suffice for today, because…well…I’ll think of a reason. Surely there is one.

Robert of Observations from the Back 40 honored me with an award: A Roar for Powerful Words many days ago before I had my shopping meltdown and I’m just now getting around to saying THANKS for the recognition. I appreciate it!
November 30, 2007
Douse ’em all!
Ah, moisture in the atmosphere. Nothing like a thick blanket of fog to dampen things and cool a few tempers. A bucket of cold water would most likely work better for some.

So here’s my list of recipients of the “Bucket of Cold Water in the Face” award for a flagrant display of ego during and after a catastrophe.
- In a letter to the editor of the local paper, a woman from Imperial Beach (spitting distance to the Baja California border) for suggesting that “the power be shut down in the areas of high winds until they dissipate to the point that they pose little danger to the line.” Life is just so simple to some, isn’t it?
- Our city attorney for suggesting that the entire city be evacuated to Yuma. Excuse me? Could someone — anyone — please oppose him in the next election. Please? He’s completely bonkers.
- To the illustrious blow hard Rush Limbaugh for asking where all the “environmentalists wackos” are when the place is burning up and asking why they aren’t helping to fight the fires. What? Was he out of material that day? Oh, I forgot. He’s been out of material since Bill Clinton left office. Stupid me.
- People who know their homes weren’t destroyed, but who were vociferously complaining that they couldn’t return to their own while their neighbors whose homes are in ashes keep their chins up, smile, and sift through what’s left of their belongings. Ugly Americans, indeed. Douse ’em again for just being a**holes. Okay, one more for the road. Losers.
- Dub-yah’s motorcade and entourage for keeping people who had been told they could return to their homes sitting on the freeway for over four hours until he was done touring a burn area, and eating lunch at a fire command post. Sometimes, you just have to check your routines, right? Douse ’em good and then rub some mud on their faces.
- Talk radio crazies who began stirring the pot about blame before the fires are out challenging why aircraft weren’t up in winds that exceeded 70 mph in some places dropping water and fire retardant. Skip the water on this one. Drop some fire retardant on their heads instead. Or give ’em a few pills to put them out of our misery.
- A woman from Rancho Bernardo who felt that “the president picked a bad time to come.” Okay, so he could have waited a week, but Arnold was here for days, so Dub-yah had to be here, too, or he would have had egg on his face. Hmmm….No. Douse ‘er anyway for being self-centered.
- To the woman who applied for food stamps because the power was out and the food in her refrigerator spoiled. How much food is that? And how big is that fridge? And how long does it take meat in a freezer to thaw out if no one opens the door?
- To the media and their “helpful” public service advice with regard to the ash on our driveways and sidewalks: Don’t wash it off with the hose because it will end up in the water. (Um…has anyone noticed the large body of saltwater to the west? Do you actually think that it has remained remarkably free of ash to this point and that washing ash from our driveways will create a problem?) Oh, and absolutely don’t use leaf blowers. (Okay, so I agree with this simply because the make an annoying sound and do blow crap into the air — especially if someone hasn’t picked up after their dog.) Do use a broom. But sweep gently so the ash doesn’t go back into the air. By all means, do dispose of the ash in the garbage can. (Where it will go to the dump, get rained on sometime in the next century when it finally does rain, and then wash into the ocean.) Okay, so skip the water on this one. Just dump a truck-load of ash on her head. Or feed her to Rush Limbaugh for lunch.
And that concludes yet another day of ranting.
October 27, 2007
You know you’re a redneck when…

It’s true. I’ve been slapped by Robert at Miscellaneous Ramblings.with a Redneck Chef of the Week award. *scratches left arm pit* How did he know I have Okie roots? I figger ee calls ’em as he sees ’em since it’s all on account o’ them nut bars I dun up last week. Musta been tha two-and-a-quarter pounds o’ butter. That’s pounds, not cups. Wait a minute. I’m thinkin’ here…

To be truly dee-servin’ o’ tha ‘ward, I woulda put margarine in them thar bars. Or lard, mebbe. Thanks, Robert! Right back at cha, mister!

Ahem. Of course I didn’t eat them all myself. I gifted the hummers to several groups of humans who had no idea the nut-filled caramel and chocolate honeys were headed in their direction. But still.

Since I find making butter bombs so much fun, and can’t see a day in my future that I won’t enjoy baking, then what’s the point of writing down everything I eat and drink? Okay fine, there is a point, but I don’t need to do it here. I decided that the day after I said I was going to do it. One more thing to keep up with when I need to be doing other things. If I could only find that list. So cancel that idea about the Daily Nitty Gritty. Oh, you didn’t know about it? Well, fuhgeddahbowdit anyway. *all two audience members glance knowingly at one another* Fine. I’m weak. Whatever.

I did have plain yogurt with a sliced banana this morning, however. Okay?

Moving right along, I’ve also been graced with another accolade. One that I’m very proud of, but personally feel I’ve been slacking on a bit lately. Because I haven’t been blogging a year yet, I’m not sure if seasonal dips and sways are part of the problem. Or maybe it was THAT PROJECT that is finally done. D.O.N.E. Wah-hooooo! And since it’s been complete, I’ve had the time to think about blogging and working and being a human being in the real world. One who is still adjusting to some fairly heavy changes over the past year. *one man music show puts cymbals down and reaches for violin…*

The award? The Community Blogger Award, bestowed upon me by Dawn at Twisted Sister, who also calls it like she sees it, *a woman after my own heart* has made me think hard about how I support the bloggers I visit. It’s made me think about what really constitutes a community in this strange land of the Internet. Of course there are the social networking sites, but that’s not really what I’m talking about. It’s that feeling I get when I visit and comment on a blog, and I see that others I know have been there, too, and I feel comfortable. Or that when I haven’t visited in a while, I feel remiss, and make an effort to do so, sometimes getting my coffee or wine *or plain yogurt…* and ~~hunker down~~ settle in to read several entries to catch up and see what I’ve missed out on. It makes me stop and wonder about the people I know in my non cyber world who don’t get nearly as much attention.

The strangest thing I’ve noticed is that when I peruse the blogs in people’s sidebars choosing one or two to visit, sometimes it doesn’t quite work. Almost like I’ve invited myself to someone else’s dinner party. You know, pull up at the table with my own place setting and everyone at the table turns to stare at me wondering where I came from and why I’m there? I’m sure it’s only my imagination, and I pull up anyway rarely waiting to speak before I’m spoken to. Listening intently to what others have to say, and sometimes not quite knowing how to respond. Trying to decide if I fit in or not. If I should be there.

Like Junior High. Egads! Run. Don’t stop for anything…

But definitely stop and visit the following people, because they, too are ever so faithful, putting up with my nonsense, and making serious headway in adding grace to my day. Thanks for your tolerance, kindness, wit, and *fill in this blank with your favorite descriptor*. It’s greatly appreciated.

The Chick

Wonderland or Not (I know, Cooper. You less than love this business. But I just had to sing your praises. Grab a nut bar while you’re here.)

Thought Sparks

So on this rainy Monday in Paradise *like, totally amazing, but true…* I’m feeling grateful and gearing up to make some changes on both of my tiny pieces of the Bloggoverse. I’ve been busy writing and working and visiting and haven’t paid much attention lately to how things look and work. Which means I’ve been a slacker. I need to get back to learning about the techie side of things, gird my loins and upgrade to WordPress 2.3, install a new theme, and redesign a header. I’ve done my homework, I just keep putting it off. And, I’m also thinking about moving my foodblog to WordPress. Thinking would be the key word here…

I also need to force myself to learn how to use the Adobe CS3 software I have *seriously lucky person, huh?* which looks soooooooooooo hard every time I open anything but Photoshop, I cringe and close it after only 10 or 15 minutes.

But I’d rather figure that out than deal with the Daily Nitty Gritty. I know. I’m still weak.

Whatever.

Nut bar, anyone?

October 16, 2007
Fly Snappin’ + Eau de Espresso = Blog Love (mwah!)

I’m whipped. If my butt was dragging any more than it is right now, I’d have to have a skid plate installed on my caboose. And it’s Monday. Jeez. But let’s review why I’m suffering from a serious hitch in my giggy-up today:

Remember those maggots? The ones the RT and I worked so hard to rid our hacienda of — what, about hmmm…nine days ago? Yes, those. And since I’m in a quizzing type of mood, how many days do you suppose it takes for one of those lil’ maggots to hatch? Uh…that would be…yup. Nine. Give or take a day. Are you still with me here?

So that would mean that when I came home from somewhere last week after only being gone for a couple of hours, what do you think I was greeted by? Do I hear anyone with “flies” for $500? Yes, flies.

Hundreds of them. No, I’m not practicing hyperbole. It’s true. They were congregating in one corner of a large window that looks out on our patio….and two more windows that are in the dining room, and another window in the living room. Totally and completely gross. But just for the records, no where near as disgusting as the maggots.

And do you think that we’d own a flyswatter? Uh, no.

But damp dish towels and dishrags are swell fly snappers. You can just go crazy flapping the rag and watch those little black winged annoyances hit the floor in any number of gruesome parts. A head here, a thorax there. The only problem is, sometimes they’re just stunned, and then I find one sort of wandering in a dazed, limping fashion and have to snap it again just to practice my aim. The dog totally hates it, and lowers herself from the couch to slink upstairs. No, I do not hit my dog. She’s just a big chicken.

This swatting ‘stravaganza went on for three days. Three. I think I got the last one this morning. The problem is, they’re ready for sex and babies two days out of the pupa. Little suckers. So that means while I’ve been snapping the 250 progeny of that one fly left in our house not quite two weeks ago (yes, those little obnoxious insects can lay that many eggs in one sitting…) the remaining one was most likely having an orgy somewhere in our house last night with a friend just sitting and waiting out of my range for the occasion.

And I’ve been persistent about getting rid of all of them because of course, they carry disease. But wait, you say? They were born and raised in our house, so where could disease come from? Well, they were fairly stupid flies, never exactly finding the cat box in the laundry room, but that was a possibility. The real issue is that they could have found the RT’s bathroom. The one I don’t want the health department to find? The one I tried to shoot Lysol POWER Toilet Bowl Cleaner into from about five feet so I wouldn’t have to actually walk in there? Yes, that bathroom.

Like I was saying, no flies for me.

Plus, my oldest son, my brother and his family came to dinner last night, so I couldn’t exactly have buzzing insects in the room and on the food. It’s disgusting to even think about. I scrubbed, and wiped, and vacuumed around and under everything. Hell, I even vacuumed the Yack-Star. I’m sure she’s ready to leave home since I gave her a bath last week, and now have resorted to using the upholstery brush to suck the fleas off her hind quarters. I don’t think she could quite decide whether she liked it (she had her rear hiked up in the air) or was flipped out (her eyes looked as if they were ready to pop out of her head). She’s lucky I don’t have a Flowbee…

So I’m completely pooped. But it was worth it, because dinner was relaxing. Very. And to be honest, I could be whipped for more than just snapping flies and cleaning and cooking. Perhaps it was this…

Have you ever tried German dessert wine? Well, have you? It’s thick. It’s sweet. And this one smells like flowers and tastes like apricots. You have to SIP it. S-L-O-W-L-Y. And of course, there were two more types to sample after this one. “It never gives us a headache,” my sister-in-law told me the last time we sampled the wine. Umm-hmm. Right.

But today, well, as I mentioned previously, I’m considering that skid plate about now. But it could have been worse…

Waking up to the fragrant aroma of a rich, dark coffee, my day would have been perfect. Except the smell of coffee was coming from…uh…me. I reeked of it and most likely have the remnants of a fine grind on my sheets. No, I didn’t sprinkle it on myself in an attempt to stave off the anticipated hangover. Last night, I opened a fresh container of coffee I occasionally treat myself and others to on special occasions. It has a lid with a pull top and must be vacuum sealed. I’m not sure about what went wrong, but when I pulled the tab, there was a very loud pop, a rush of air, and a good portion of the finely ground black gold sprayed me from head to chest. And whatever hit my head, promptly dropped down my shirt. If I had died from an insta-caffiene attack, the police wouldn’t have had to use white tape to mark my body because of the amount of coffee sprayed across the kitchen behind me. I’m sure there was an outline left. Bless the MoH’s heart. I was already trying to wipe it from my eyes and hair and dig it out of my decolletage when he gently offered, “You need to go in the bathroom and check yourself.” Oh, really? I suppose he could have said, “BWAH—–HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You look hilarious,” and grabbed the camera for a photo op. But no. He’s a very nice man. Check myself, indeed. Considering that it was quite warm, and I am no stranger to a perpetual coating of sweat, hot morsel that I am…I was bound to smell like the filter in my coffee pot.Â Oooooo, baby.

Yes, I showered. No, it didn’t help.

Clearly, I needed some R & R today. That’s all.Â I don’t think it was too much to expect that I could park my sorry coffee-scented butt at the computer and wallow all over my seriously neglected Bloggsville. But no. My computer or service provider, or who the hell knows — did that ridiculous reassigning of our IP address. I think it does this to get even with me. So I had to fiddle around with the router. And the cable modem. And my network settings. But no. So I had to call the service provider and get warm and fuzzy with the level two help who was nice. While I was crawling under the desk, I asked him about whether they considered that people could be 85 and not able to crawl under desks.Â He didn’t answer me. I asked him if I was annoying him.Â “Oh, absolutely not!” was his quick reply.Â Not helpful.Â But then I fixed it.

So here we are. Finally. Together again at last. I do have a little smile on my face after all of that. Because look what I have.

Yes, it is so. Another badge. WOOT! I LOVE this one. And many, many thanks to Dawn and Ann, the superior creators of TwistedSister and totally Pissed Off. I heart their blog, too! They’re really just softies. I know they are. And they love a number of the same blogs that I do. Meleah, Paisley, Mad Goat Lady, Sam — whom I neglect = ( I’m so sorry, Sam!)– are excellent people. Great minds do think alike. I’m just getting to know Amber. And I can add Freak Parade, Thought Sparks, Radioactive Jam, and last, but certainly never least, The Domestic Minx. Quite the diverse group, don’t you think? That’s what makes it all so worthwhile. You know there are lots more, right? Lots. So if your name isn’t on this list, don’t get your drawers in a wad.

Thanks you guys for totally making my day and loving my little spot in Bloggsville– even if I still can’t get the coffee smell off of me. Good thing the MoH likes the way good coffee smells, huh?

August 28, 2007
The Sunshine Vacation Chronicles

I have been knighted, or princessed, or smacked upside the head with yet another honor. Phil at Thought Sparks, the extraordinary guy who helped save me from ripping out my eyeballs when I switched over to my own domain, has dubbed me “Inspirational,” and that is a very cool honor. It means that Phil is willing to weed through my writer’s moods, confusing musings, and contradictory thought trajectories enough to find glimmers of purpose. It’s kind of like a roller coaster ride from one post to the next, dipping and spinning. Then rolling along smoothly until a sudden drop you didn’t anticipate sends your stomach up into your throat. Like Phil said, Inspirational. Woot! Thanks, Phil. And thanks to Christy at Writer’s Reviews whose ingenuity gave birth to a variety of positive recognitions for those in Bloggsville. I will dub those I believe are inspirational, but plan to do so over a period of time as I get back into the saddle again after being on vacation. I’m evidence that one can actually not blog for more than five days…

And to celebrate my new accolade, I will launch into the first of “The Sunshine Vacation Chronicles.” Actually, they began last night in the wee hours, as I needed to flush my attitude a bit. And having dragged my rear end out of bed somewhere around 10am today to the scent of something….ahhh….smelling not quite right, and the steady roar of the exhaust fan over our stove, I am quite rested, and ready to roll — although I’m glad I missed breakfast. The MoH saved the evidence.

Now, this is the part where you may want to take a seat in the back row and catch some zzz’s. You know. Like when you’re forced to watch a slide show of someone else’s vacation shots? Like that. Kay? For those of you inclined to stay, gird your loins and prepare for a glimpse of the more easily overlooked, but very best gems on our way to Tahoe.

High Points on the Trip Up.

We didn’t hit the road until 1:30. On a Friday. If that doesn’t sound the alarm, then you might as well give up, lay down and close your eyes. So Cal. Mid Day. The last week of July. Friday. So we’ll donate our brains to science, okay? Because no one in his or her right mind would actually PLAN to do this. But we’re the adventuresome sort. Right. So HP #1 is having ridiculously optimistic attitudes.

Downright giddy, actually.

We covered 70 miles before we had to stop on the parking lot that was supposed to be the I-15 North. We’d been driving 1 hour and 7 minutes. I could probably tell you how many gallons of gas we’d burned, the average speed, and miles per gallon our car was getting, but I’ll spare you. Yes, the MoH knows all of this and will report immediately upon request. You don’t even have to insert a quarter. Oh. I forgot. The temperature was also being tracked: it was hovering at about 100 degrees. Swell, huh? Well, my ankles and wrists did, loving excessive heat the way they do. So HP #2 is managing to get out of San Diego county before parking on the freeway in scorching afternoon heat. This traffic jam was sponsored by a minivan that didn’t quite stop when the fast lane traffic must have, so veered off the road and flipped a few hundred times. There were no ambulances, so there must have been a flock of angels hovering in the vicinity. It caused just enough commotion to stop both sides of the freeway with rubberneckers gawking at the wreckage. Eyes not on road + heavy traffic = crash.

HP #3 is creatively busying ourselves with mindless activity and pithy games to keep from paying attention to the less than interesting, scrub-covered landscape that stretches to the horizon. We keep track of license plates. I know. It’s so ’50’s, but it passes the time. Kind of like when I was a kid on road trips, my brother, sister, and I would whack each other when we saw one of those pseudo wood paneled station cars and scream, “BEAVER CAR.” Uh, no, I don’t know why they were called that particular term. Then my dad would launch a low flying whack to the side of one of our heads in retaliation. We’d resort to stealth pinching or poking from that point on until my sister whined about it and we’d get whacked again. A father’s arm reaches pretty far in a VW Beetle. Far. If you try to escape the whack, you bonk your head into the side window, then you get whacked for moving away from the oncoming whack. I guess that means we were double whacked. This is true and today, I think it’s called child abuse. So the MoH, the RT and I count license plates. We aren’t quite June and Ward, but we garnered 20 of the 50 states with Massachusetts being the one from farthest away. Poor saps. They won’t even find Dorothy or Toto in this place.

I also take note of strange things like small fenced areas in the middle of nowhere with nothing different inside the fence than what can be seen outside the fence. Areas with hand-painted signs that say, “Stop the FTAA dot org.” Hmmm… What could have been inside that crude fence at one time? And whose land was it? Only cars speeding anxiously toward the next passing lane and a series of enormous power lines were visible for miles. Whose attention could the organizers be wanting here? And why? I had to wonder about this for seven whole days until Google put me out of my misery. But I would have forgotten about it if I hadn’t seen it on the other side of the road on the way back, or been enthralled with our mindless activity. Of course, now I have to wonder about those folks and their campaign.
HP #4 was seeing all those solar collectors out in the high desert while we were racing up and over the ribbon-like road and thinking that someone had a freaking clue. According to Wikipedia,

Boron [near Four Corners] is also the home of the worlds largest solar power production facility. Florida Power and Light operates five thermal trough technology Solar Electric Generating Stations (SEGS) plants. These units generate enough electricity to provide the electrical needs of 30,000 to 40,000 homes without the use of fossil fuels.

There must have been a million of them shining in the searing heat and sending power back to a sort of conversion station at Four Corners (which had the most unbelievably long traffic light and endless number of semis mixed with racing cars waiting to pass through.) Sorry. I missed the photo of the Ferrari. But seeing the collectors just stirs up my attitude about why, why, why there can’t be more. About why it’s so difficult to push those who keep steering us toward the use of non-renewable energy.

Oh, how foolish of me. It’s money — just not ours.

Well, it was ours, and now it’s theirs. Funny how that works, don’t you think?
HP #5 was staying overnight at Mammoth. We juiced up at Starbucks in Bishop (no, there wasn’t a mom & pop coffee place open…) at about 9PM in the still sweltering heat before ending our day at a condo kindly offered by an acquaintance at the last minute. So no motels in lonely places for us. It made for a restful night, and a seriously cool trip up Mammoth Mountain on the gondolas the next day to gawk at the view and gasp in the thin air. Literally breathtaking up there on that humongous chunk of volcanic rock more than 11,ooo feet in the air.

HP #6 was thanking our lucky stars that my car managed the dirt road to Bodie, CA, a bonafide ghost town left over from the gold rush. What a stark, but beautiful place. I’m still wondering why that particular area was where Bodie decided to dig for gold at an altitude of 8400 ft., with daytime temperatures peaking in the 80’s and plummeting into the 30’s even at this time of the year. Desolate. A bit creepy even with visitors walking among the decaying buildings on a sunny day. I suppose I should read the guide we bought, huh? I was too busy taking photos.

HP #7 is that we actually made it to Lake Tahoe without a map. This was by design since it was one very long road all the way there. How hard could that be? A total of five turns were made. The bummer is that maps often can explain strange things you see on the side of the road. Like odd black rocks that rise up from the earth and gather into a formidable ridge that just ends after reaching a height of hundreds of feet. What the hell were those things, and how old were they? If it was an ancient lava flow, where the hell was the volcano? I somewhat recognized the basalt structure thanks to that geology professor at SDSU, I think. Maybe. And that very odd looking red hill jutting from the earth. Was that a fissure, or something. What was the redness about? Iron? Simply stimulating, don’t you think? Rocks completely fascinate me. Of course, so does Google, because thanks to this intelligent source, I now “get it.” Simply spectacular. Truly. You can tell I’m a nerd, right?

HP #8 is that my VBF was already at the rental in Tahoe when we arrived at 5PM and was getting chicken and sausage kabobs ready for the grill. The wine was cold, and a hammock was waiting between two pines just behind the house.Â And in less than another day, my VGF was due to arrive.

Gentle folk….start your engines…

August 6, 2007
Schmoozer, Schmoozetta & Schmoozerino

Ahhh…the beauty of the skies we’ve been having here. It’s been such a break from the gloom and overcast skies we so often have. So lovely to be outside and wallow in the glory. Don’t you think? So I’m off to do that again today, but not until I take care of some very important business.

My food blog, Sass & Veracity, has been recognized by a lovely person — The Mad Goat Lady. Don’t you just love that name?Â I found her in Bloggsville one day with her post on Lucky Lucy that had us truly hooting over the hilarity of it all. I can’t imagine!

The Schmooze award was begun by Mike of Ordinary Folk and Danielle of Pink Reviews to recognize people who have a positive influence on the blogging community by developing and nurturing relationships. You know — commenting on other’s blogs, joining in on and sustaining a “blogversation.” Yep. That. And of course, it’s my turn to pass this along. This is one of the easiest awards for me to nominate others for. It’s easy because they’re the ones who consistently respond to my posts, and to comments I make on their blogs. Oh faithful followers of my short hair science here at kellementology, and dutiful foodies at Sass & Veracity. You are what helps to make this so much fun. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you and the time you take to read and respond. Truly!

I hereby annoint the following humans with the Power of Schmooze Blogging Community Involvement Award. Tah-Dahhhhhhh!

Lis at La Mia Cucina is a lovely human and cook blogger extraordinaire. And she’s completely hilarious. Lis cofounded a group called the Daring Bakers of which I am a part. Each month, one of the members puts out a baking challenge to the rest of us. We have a month to all cook the same recipe, then post our results on the same day. It’s a tremendous amount of fun with all of us checking each other’s posts and drooling over each other’s photos. The group now has more than 80? people in it. Is that right, Lis? Unbelievable. Talk about blog community? It’s incredible. Lis, you have an amazing presence in bloggsville. If you ask me, you are The Queen of the Schmooze and totally deserve this award. What size crown do you wear so I can get right on that?

Phil at Thought Sparks is another person who looks out for others. He not only chimes in to my odd world of short hair science, he creates very thoughtful and useful posts for the rest of bloggsville. When I read Phil’s blog, it’s always a pleasant surprise to find some new kind of learning — and not just blog or computer info (which really comes in handy). His posts are kind, thoughtful, and always very refreshing. He’s always on the lookout to lend a helping hand. When you comment on his blog — he’s right there with a response. What a Classy Schmoozer!

Going back to my cooking world I have to recognize a foodie who always take the time to let me know what she thinks of what I’m cooking — and it’s always supportive. Cheryl at Gruel Omelet. I enjoy her blog because she tells it like it is about what she’s cooking. It takes time to comment on a person’s blog, and I appreciate that she does that. And take a look at her archives. There’s some tasty stuff there if you have a sweet tooth — she’s sure to Schmooze you!

Dave at Wandering the Ether is a great person who has very involved conversations with his readers. The comment section of his posts are even more involved that his posts at times. The ideas he puts forth, and the content of his writing is mind-boggling. He is actively involved in getting people to wake up and get involved themselves. But he also takes time to put up with my less than mind-boggling content. Pithy Schmoozer, that Dave.

Meleah at Momma Mia Mea Culpa is a blogger who is everywhere! When I’m reading other’s blogs, I see her doing what she does so well — supporting other bloggers with her comments. She always takes time to comment — no matter how unworthy my content is at times. She’s funny, touching, edgy…but above all, someone who is a star in Bloggsville. She’s an electric Schmoozer!

And I have Rockin’ Blogger Awards to hand out, too. And Creative Blogger Awards. But I’ll save that for now. Awards will be coming out people’s ears. And I’m pooped. Completely. I sucked it up and went for another ocean swim this morning. News at eleven.

July 16, 2007