fotog friday: giving a hoot, and bye for now

Here are some recent things that remind me to count my blessings:

1) The "Great 4-H Enchilada Production Line"


This happened last weekend at the home of our local 4-H Swine Project leader. By the time all was said and done, there were enough enchilada orders filled to allow the club to purchase a large animal scale. This will come in handy for the market animals heading to the County Fair auction in the fall, but as the local 4-H Horse Project leader, I'm looking forward to weighing some horses on it as well. Those enchis were piled nearly floor to ceiling high, I tell ya:

2) Mother's Day roses:

Some from friends, and some from family (I am lucky to call myself richly blessed in both departments).

3) That dog:

Lizzie's herding instincts have gotten a little too intense lately, especially with all the kids we have running in and out of the house on a regular basis. So, with summer vacation fast approaching, we're getting back to some remedial training and socialization with her, including long runs and frequent trips to son's Little League practices. She's a good girl, though, so I have no doubt we'll get her hyper vigilant Aussie brain back in line. This evening she accompanied me on a long walk throughout the neighborhood, during which I was able to collect a big bag of roadside trash. Those Woodsy Owl commercials from the 70's made a big impression, though I don't think any commercial cut as deep as that crying Indian - er, Native American - canoeing past all the riverbank trash. (Is it just me, or does he bear a strong resemblance to Kramer from Seinfeld?)

And with all that said, I'm also going to say my yearly "Goodbye for now." AWAAR will be going dark for a while. How long? Dunno. What I do know is that life is demanding my focused attention in ways I could not have foreseen a year ago, and so I'll give that attention where necessary - including to the Year of Writing Dangerously, which I committed to in January and which has, heretofore, not been quite as dangerous as it should be. So, we'll see where it all ends up. Hopefully I'll have plenty of daring adventure stories with which to regale you upon my return.

Cheerio!

w.o.k. wednesday: nanci

The finest hour I have seen is the one that comes between the edge of night and the break of day - it's when the darkness rolls away.
-Kate Wolf

Really, what more is there to say?

Actually, there's probably lots. I've loved Nanci for years, and when she came to Flagstaff with Jerry Jeff Walker when my daughter was a newborn, it was a delight. I just recently listened to her Other Voices, Other Rooms CD after a long hiatus, and I was reminded of how much I love Across the Great Divide. But This one (click on "Play this track") is, hands down, my favorite to holler along to when travelin' down the Interstate.

But, shoot: I totally forgot about Ford Econoline...he built a golden cage around his silver-coated wife. Gotta love it.

w.o.k. wednesday: interstate elvis

So, here's the deal. You and a buddy are cruising into Vegas on I-515, both of you sweating it a bit because you got a later-than-anticipated start that morning, and you're worried that maybe you won't make it to the backstage area of the venue in time to get your special passes to the evening's hot ticket.

Traffic over Hoover Dam has set you back further, as have all the RV-hauling lookie-loos on the road - all of whom are apparently allergic to driving any faster than ten miles below the speed limit. Further heightening the tension is the fact that you'll still have to check into the hotel at some point, get dressed, get pretty, and then get back on the road by the time the Pussycat Dolls take to the stage.

But then you look out the window at all the neighboring traffic, and you see him:

And, suddenly, everything is A-okay. Because, suddenly, you're reminded that life isn't about stressing over the details: It's all about individuality and following your bliss. It's all about the Oh-I-Just-Gotta-Be-Me.

And this Interstate Elvis? He's doing it right.

a night at the circus

So, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement stating that I wouldn't discuss The Artist or her family. Which mean I ain't sayin' NUTHIN (though it might kill me not to). I was also told that I could face a $50K fine for taking a picture of her (and that my friend's husband could lose his job), so I didn't do that, either.

Thank Heaven for YouTube. The sound quality sucks, but you can get an idea. Also, I think the smoke used to fill up the arena was actually powder-scented, because I've been to very few concerts that didn't smell like a bong/beer/bile combo to at least some extent.

The Pussycat Dolls opened for Brit, and I didn't sign anything saying I couldn't talk about them, so I will. I have to admit, I went in a bit sneery. I mean, please. The Pussycat Dolls?? But they were actually quite talented, and they put on a great show. Here they are singing Don't Cha.

Afterward, Maiden and I wandered the Strip, grabbed a bite to eat, looked at some overpriced clothes and then CRASHED at about 2:30 a.m. like toddlers coming off a birthday party sugar binge.

britney in vegas, baby!!!!!!!!!!

Affix those pasties, Girl, 'cause here we come. Tomorrow night. Ringside seats and backstage passes.

I am SO not kidding.

How cool is it to have friends who not only know just what the doctor ordered but know how to DELIVER the prescription right when it's needed most?

Brain is reeling.

a small bag used for carrying money and Xanax

Somebody make it stop. Because it is too much wry goodness, and a person could possibly die from an overdose of such a thing. (Actually, a few are a little too off color/Robot Chickenish even for me, but I think the concept is absolutely brilliant.)

fotog Friday: I was going to title this post

“not cool.”

and then I was going to be clever and write something like “On second thought, too cool.”

Because we’ve had snow this week – enough snow to coat the San Francisco Peaks, and the roads and the swing set out back. Enough coldness to leave black ice on the road when I took Lizzie out for a run yesterday evening.





Frankly, I was going to bitch about the snow and about the fact that it's mid-April for cryin' out loud, and isn't it enough that we've already had to endure tax season on top of a long winter? But then Maiden sent me a link to this. Which means the title of this post is now officially and simply: OMG. (Be sure to watch for the rundowns and sliding stops that start at about 3:40).


Maiden and I both have dads who deserve this kind of tribute whether they’re still walking this earth or not. I hope you do, too. And if you’re a guy, and you don’t happen to have that kind of dad, I sure as hell hope you can be that kind of dad. Because you're sorely needed.