It’s only February, and I am in shorts and a t-shirt, wandering the seaside and soaking up the sun. The tide is high and the waves are only a foot or so tall, but the surfers keep flocking to the beach. These calm days are incredible, making me once again wonder why I took a five year Idaho break. My own private Idaho was a hellish snowscape, followed by a few weeks of wonderful weather, followed by blistering heat and a losing battle against knapweed and the slow collapse of everything related to my house. Damn, the previous owner (and builder) certainly had a love for low grade pvc and creative wiring, didn’t he? (more…)
Oliphant Parts
Reframing Reality
Categories: Family
More Beachy
The day bounced between rain and sun. I took a late walk to Moonstone during a sunshine moment but mostly spent the day doing nothing. I think I like nothing very much. Once again, hula hoops came into the picture. As I was leaving, a group of four hoopers with hoops of several sizes were heading for the shore. Fascinating. I wanted to stay and see what the latest routines would be, but home and children were calling. Jennie, meanwhile, spent the day getting used to Vegas, and may not hate it quite as much as she did last night.
Flight To Nowhere
Several hours late, but Jennie is finally off for a week-long veterinary management conference. I had forgotten how small and poorly-served our local airport is, so I guess this is a good reminder. There is, or might be, a restaurant at the airport, but it is not open on Saturdays. With no schedule listed, it might not be open any days. None of the car rental facilities (facility?) are open Saturday morning. Instead of handing your checked baggage to an attendant so it can be sent back to be checked, the attendant sends you around the corner, through the door marked “Authorized Personnel Only”, to drop your baggage off next to the baggage X-Ray machine. So not only do you get to fly out from here, you get a very short stint as an airport intern. Yay! (more…)
An Education
I am a firm believer that you should learn something new every day. Whether it be a new recipe, the square root of some ridiculous number, or how to julienne a carrot (you can julienne carrots, can’t you? Hm, I may have my next learning experience picked out already!), it is good to learn and to expand your horizons. With learning, comes knowledge, and a greater sense of self. You have new experiences, a richer life history, and something to look back upon, good or bad.
So what did I learn today? I am SO glad you asked that — today I learned that you should not accidentally pat the largest ram in your flock of sheep on the head, especially not during breeding season. His response will be to back up and immediately ram you in the back of the knees after you turn your back. Then when you turn around and start uttering obscenities and calling his lineage into question (with particularly horrible things said about his mother), he will look at you with eyes wide, as if to say “What? You touched my head, dude! You obviously felt it was time to butt heads, er, head and knees!” Although considering that he spends most of his day chewing cud and licking himself inappropriately, the thought process may have been less cogent and more Zen-like. What is the sound of one ram laughing? Absolute silence, if today is to judge.
C'Mon, turn around!
Brain, Pain, Egg
My shoulder has improved a bit, but is still painful to use, and my left arm is still considerably weaker. I need to go back for a recheck and to discuss surgical options, but I really do not feel like being hacked open. If only I were a Lego figurine, the doctor could just snap a new arm on and I would be on my way. Oh, to be shiny and plastic . . . oh crap!- now I’ve got Aqua’s Barbie Girl stuck in my head. Damn damn damn! If it’s going to be Barbie, I’d rather have John Hiatt’s Wreck of the Barbie Ferrari mushing up my mind.
Speaking of mush, here’s what has been on my mind of late:
Easter Break, 2010
Our sheep are so good. We went away for eight days, and they waited until our return to start popping out more lambs. We’ve now got five new bundles of wool and stick-like legs racing about the paddock, getting lost and crying for mom.
I will post pictures eventually, I swear. We visited friends and family, wandering from Connecticut to New York to D.C., getting rained on, throwing up and having a grand time. The family consensus is that we will never again visit Manhattan, but want to get back to D.C. as soon as possible, assuming we drive there rather than fly. Neither Jennie nor the boy-child will willingly board an airplane again.
Until I get pictures up, here’s the summary of our trip:
Day 1: Flew, Jennie went clammy, couldn’t talk and had to be led off the plane. The boy-child developed awe-inspiring flatulence and dealt with his fear by gassing the rows around him.
Day 2: Spent time with Erik and Deb and their kids, lots of mud, fun. Oh, and the Mark Twain house.
Day 3: Drove to upstate NY to spend time with my aunt, uncle and cousin there. The boy-child decided it was time to start vomiting. We had a wonderful lunch, some conversation and rested, then drove into Manhattan.
Day 4-5: Wandered about Manhattan, getting rained on. Constant haranguing by people trying to sell tours. The boy-child continued being ill for a while. Central Park in the rain is not a pleasure.
Day 6: Walked through more rain, then boarded a bus to D.C.. Not a bad way to travel, although it would have been better if we hadn’t all been soaked. D.C. is sunny, our hotel rooms are large, and we all are much happier. Jennie, Vally and I go walkabout and end up with Greek for dinner, then ice cream. Hopefully the kids found their way to the buffet at the hotel.
Day 7: Vally and I power-walk to the National Mall and check out the monuments from end to end. We make it into three of the Smithsonian buildings before meeting friends and family. Jennie and the kids move at a bit more sedate a pace. Definitely better than N.Y..
Day 8: We hop a train, then a plane, then another plane, and it is plain that it is a pain for the boy-child and Jennie. We’re home. The horses escape twice in our absence, and the house-sitter has left a trail of destruction behind her. And two pizzas. We prefer the pizza to the destruction. And one of the cats is splattered on the side of the road. We’re ready to go back to D.C..
Okay, enough summarization. I need to work.
Shame
I discovered a dark secret last night. My son, at age ten, is living up the blogger stereotype. He is unemployed, living in his parents’ basement, and wears sweatpants all day. And has his own blog, which he updates more than I update mine. I should buy him a bag of Cheetos so he can stain his fingers and keyboard and perfectly round out the image. Imagine, living the dream by ten. I need to teach him to type in all-caps and get him on Wonkette next. I guess I have one more website to monitor every day. Sigh . . .
Oh hey, I’ve found god! It turns out he was busy making podcasts and kind of tuned us all out, which explains why everybody keeps searching so hard for him. His creator, apparently, is a former Mormon. Trippy, man (yes, I am high on stress and lack of sleep).
Okay, that’s it. Hopefully the boy-child will forget to post today and I can pull ahead in the great blogger wars.
Monday, Watching The Snow Fall
Oh hey, it’s finally starting to look like winter out here. The one night I don’t bother to park my truck in the garage, and it snows “wicked hahd” (We’re heading over the the East Coast is another month or so and I had to get some Bostonian out of me. So sorry). I’d snap a pciture, but I don’t feel like getting up right now.
So, I’ve found the perfect balance of exercise and gluttony: If I only eat and drink to excess 4 days a week and live well the other three, I continue to get fit. As long as I can exercise heavily for 2 hours every day of the week, I can have my ice cream, scallops and 5 glasses of wine 4 days a week. Yay. I’m really f***ing tired. There’s no way this plan can fail, right?
Actually, it’s kind of fun seeing how hard I can push myself. Being somewhat sparse in the meniscus department thanks to a couple of knee injuries, I haven’t really run in 20 years or so. Now I’m doing 8-9 miles a day, brace-free. Even better, I no longer end up curled up in the fetal position afterwards, holding my knees and moaning. Life is good. As long as we don’t get snowed in.
I’m Going Home
My love affair with N. Idaho has faded. Cheap land is not worth the political climate. This is what Sarah Palin calls “real America,” a chunk of nation so backwards they think a right-of-center pol like Obama is a socialist. As a heavily-armed pacifist, I spend too much time at the local shooting range. I park next to the truck with the extra-large window decal exclaming “Obama, change for the worse.” My daughter’s civics teacher is a teabagger (and no, not the good type; she believes in the tea party movement and all of its contradictions). My neighbor asks me how I like the peace and quiet, or more specifically, how wonderful it is without blacks or Mexicans. Sorry, but I want a bit or variety, a little color in my vanilla landscape. So my love affair with N. Idaho has faded.
I look forward to battling mildew and the salt air rather than closed minds. Sure, I’ll have to give up my 30-round magazines and assault-rifle sleekness, but California is where I want to be. Hello Redwoods, goodbye bigotry.
Shameless Coffee Co. Advertisement
I completed my Saeco Aroma espresso upgrade this week, adding a frothing pitcher, steel tamper, non-pressurized portafilter and the cutest little red knock box from Seattle Coffee Gear.
For the past three days, I have been able to make espressos strong enough to double as paint remover, so it has definitely been worth it. I may have to work on my tamping technique, however. Per Seattle Coffee Gear’s instructional video, I should be using 30 pounds of pressure. So far, I have been pressing down on the tamper while jumping up and down, applying the full 250 pounds of me as pressure. The result is an almost pitch-black brew for the first ounce, dark brown for the second ounce, and the equivalent of the first ounce using the pressurized portafilter for the third ounce.
Vally, Jennie and I may have ulcers by the end of the month, but I’m definitely extracting the full flavour of the coffee now.
The only part I’ve had problems with is the knock box. It is small, red and adorable, but it was definitely not designed for six double shots every day. By the time I am finished making espresso, I’ve also made an incredible mess of splashes and puck pieces all around the knock box.
Next week I’ll try frothing.
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