Being the Florida girl that I am I was taken aback - all the way back in my very small plane seat when I saw the mountains leaping up into the blue sky. Plane seats are getting smaller or I am getting bigger. Most likely a little of both. It was a long uncomfortable ride from Florida to Utah and then I saw the mountains as the plane began descending into Salt Lake City.
The mountains were massive and dark except for the funny looking white stuff covering the tops. I haven't witnesses that white powdery stuff since I left the north in my dust many years ago. I've been to Utah before 'in the summer' and never saw the powdered sugar. So, this sight thrilled me and sent me over the edge of my very small compact uncomfortable plane seat. Not too far to go off the plane seat because you are basically nose to back of the seat in front of you.
The journey begins with a little of the white stuff, actually it seems like a lot of white stuff to spice up our adventure. I'm sure I can hike through that cold white stuff in my Florida flip-flops.
Enough of the white stuff tale it's time to hit the bottom slopes far away from the white stuff. I did pack a very thin jacket. Arches here we come. YEHAW!!!!!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Long Hot Summer
Around the neighborhood the ‘Long Hot Summer’ seems to have come early with ‘The Heat Of The Night.’ Actually it cools off at night but the phenomenon is taking place during the day. Must be that tempers are flaring, tension is bubbling over and stress is slithering along the fence rails.
In this little quiet cul-de-sac something or someone (I believe) is tampering with our drinking water or our emotions. The long hot summer has officially not even started. Perhaps the downward spiral of the economy is affecting our relationships. Right now I can count (on my fingers) the neighbors who are succumbing to the long hot summer in the heat of the night that is really during the day. The number 6 comes to mind including our household.
I have been trying to run through the house shutting all doors and windows so the dirty laundry is not aired for public views. Sometimes it’s too late and the words seep out across the ‘hood’. That would be ‘neighborhood.’ So last night the house catty-corner to ours which is usually quiet erupted with verbal assaults. I tried to listen but couldn’t get close enough to the fence without being seen. Not that I really want to know. Well maybe. Maybe this is mass hysteria taking over. They hear us in our LOUD discussion with the kid so they jump on the band wagon and want their piece of the pie.
Today, they are going at it again. Presumably the dirty laundry was not completed last night. I wonder where that phrase derived from. Hanging out the dirty laundry for all to see. I mean you hang out clean laundry not dirty laundry. Not that we are allowed to have clothes lines in our neighborhood. It’s upscale - no outside clotheslines.
If the whole hood started their Long Hot Summer episodes it may become a reality television show. We have the 6 households with loud voices, one with a little yappy dog, one with two big yappy dogs, our yappy dog, the drunk who drives on the sidewalk, the drummer who beats to his own drum add in a 90 year old that still drives her car (stay out of her way) the grandfather raising his grandchildren, the landscaper and his illegally parked trucks and his roaming bees, the couple going through a divorce ( not a pretty sight) and those renters around the corner we could have a hit reality show. We could call it ‘In the heat of the long hot summer day.’
In this little quiet cul-de-sac something or someone (I believe) is tampering with our drinking water or our emotions. The long hot summer has officially not even started. Perhaps the downward spiral of the economy is affecting our relationships. Right now I can count (on my fingers) the neighbors who are succumbing to the long hot summer in the heat of the night that is really during the day. The number 6 comes to mind including our household.
I have been trying to run through the house shutting all doors and windows so the dirty laundry is not aired for public views. Sometimes it’s too late and the words seep out across the ‘hood’. That would be ‘neighborhood.’ So last night the house catty-corner to ours which is usually quiet erupted with verbal assaults. I tried to listen but couldn’t get close enough to the fence without being seen. Not that I really want to know. Well maybe. Maybe this is mass hysteria taking over. They hear us in our LOUD discussion with the kid so they jump on the band wagon and want their piece of the pie.
Today, they are going at it again. Presumably the dirty laundry was not completed last night. I wonder where that phrase derived from. Hanging out the dirty laundry for all to see. I mean you hang out clean laundry not dirty laundry. Not that we are allowed to have clothes lines in our neighborhood. It’s upscale - no outside clotheslines.
If the whole hood started their Long Hot Summer episodes it may become a reality television show. We have the 6 households with loud voices, one with a little yappy dog, one with two big yappy dogs, our yappy dog, the drunk who drives on the sidewalk, the drummer who beats to his own drum add in a 90 year old that still drives her car (stay out of her way) the grandfather raising his grandchildren, the landscaper and his illegally parked trucks and his roaming bees, the couple going through a divorce ( not a pretty sight) and those renters around the corner we could have a hit reality show. We could call it ‘In the heat of the long hot summer day.’
Monday, June 8, 2009
ILL Fated Romance
This is the story of Anole Grey and his paramour. I named him Anola Grey after the airplane Enola Grey and then I found out it's a name of a rock group. Whatever! Why I saw a connection between him and an airplane is beyond normal thoughts. Anyways, his paramour is nameless as I believe he has had more than one. Possibly any cutie that will swish her tail becomes his sought after lady in waiting.
Florida is home to gazillions of geckos, lizards and that Geiko creature on t.v. that talks and is such a handsome dude. I love the one where the CEO hands him a suit. The real name for these critters would be 'Anoles'. There you have it. So in my twisted thoughts I must have related Enola to Anole. The plane having something to do with the speed of these critters, how far they can jump and their perfect landings.
We have this huge screen lanai covering our pool where we spend many of our lazy days in the summer. Mating season for anoles. Things go on in this outside world that are quite amazing. One just needs to pull up a chair sit back and watch the living picture show. Off the subject - but - I found frog poop on the top of the lanai this morning. I haven't a clue as how to remove it. Will have to wait for rain storms.
So I've been watching Anole Grey inside the screened in lanai and his antics trying to pick up dudettes. He rears his little head, switches it up and down and this gross flap of yellow/red skin puffs out from his neck. The ladies seem to love this act of courtship.
Anole lives inside the screened lanai. I'm thinking he does this as it is easy hunting for bugs as they cannot escape. In a world outside of the screened in lanai they can just fly away. Hunting is better in the enclosure. When it comes to his love life things get kind of 'grey.'
His wanna be paramours are on the outside of the screened in lanai. So all of the fluffing up his throat skin comes to not a happy ending. Most frustrating to both parties I presume. Hence, the ill fated romance.
Florida is home to gazillions of geckos, lizards and that Geiko creature on t.v. that talks and is such a handsome dude. I love the one where the CEO hands him a suit. The real name for these critters would be 'Anoles'. There you have it. So in my twisted thoughts I must have related Enola to Anole. The plane having something to do with the speed of these critters, how far they can jump and their perfect landings.
We have this huge screen lanai covering our pool where we spend many of our lazy days in the summer. Mating season for anoles. Things go on in this outside world that are quite amazing. One just needs to pull up a chair sit back and watch the living picture show. Off the subject - but - I found frog poop on the top of the lanai this morning. I haven't a clue as how to remove it. Will have to wait for rain storms.
So I've been watching Anole Grey inside the screened in lanai and his antics trying to pick up dudettes. He rears his little head, switches it up and down and this gross flap of yellow/red skin puffs out from his neck. The ladies seem to love this act of courtship.
Anole lives inside the screened lanai. I'm thinking he does this as it is easy hunting for bugs as they cannot escape. In a world outside of the screened in lanai they can just fly away. Hunting is better in the enclosure. When it comes to his love life things get kind of 'grey.'
His wanna be paramours are on the outside of the screened in lanai. So all of the fluffing up his throat skin comes to not a happy ending. Most frustrating to both parties I presume. Hence, the ill fated romance.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
They Shoot Horses Don't They
Dead Horse Point State Park!
The name intrigues me – Dead Horse Point. Not that I like dead horses, dead animals or for that matter anything dead. I can’t even look at the dead spiders on the bottom of the pool. It just has that mystery and drama attached to the name and the way the phonetic sounds roll off the tongue.
My life is riveted with drama so apparently I am drawn to that spectrum and words roll off my tongue. It reminds me of hoof and mouth disease. I’m forever putting my foot in that place. There is never a dull or relaxing moment around here, always something erupting, breaking or a major catastrophe to be handled. So it’s time for me to take a vacation from all the dramatic stuff.
I’ve read about Dead Horse Point and have little red x’s marked on my map of Utah of the places I want to visit. Dead Horse Point State Park is first on my list. Not that I would ever admit to it or even say it or write it but – but – Dead Horse Point sounds more interesting than the Grand Canyon. Ooops. My bad. I know everyone and their brothers’- girlfriends’- sisters’- uncles’- neighbor twice removed wants to view the Grand Canyon but I would rather set my sights on Dead Horse Point. Several years ago I did travel to the north rim of the Grand Canyon so I’m off the hook on that one.
I remember when I toured the Valley of Fire. I wasn’t at all sure what to expect? Perhaps I would be forever trapped in the eternal fires of hell. Not even close to that bizarre thought. The Valley of Fire was awesome beyond my vocabulary. I have no words to describe the beauty I saw there. Photographs work really fantastic when I am at a loss for words.
I’ve done a wee bit of research on the Dead Horse Point expedition but mostly I want to be amazed and find out things by myself. I want to visit this Mecca with an open porous sponge mind. I want everything I see, touch and smell to be a new never before attempted experience. I want my imagination to run rampant among the plateaus and valleys. I don’t want my brain clogged with opinions of others. I want all my senses on overload. Not anxiety panic attack overload just in awe overload.
My bags are packed (not really) I’m ready to go. This catchy tune reminds me of a song. ‘All my bags are packed I’m ready to go. Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane’. The correlation here is John Denver, jet plane and dead. Oh no. Water down those thoughts. Change that obsessive thought to Peter, Paul and Mary.
More silly research and I found out one can download that song as a ring tone to your cell. When my phone rings I will just hum a few bars it’s much cheaper that way.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Dead Horse Point - I am ready to be thrilled.
The name intrigues me – Dead Horse Point. Not that I like dead horses, dead animals or for that matter anything dead. I can’t even look at the dead spiders on the bottom of the pool. It just has that mystery and drama attached to the name and the way the phonetic sounds roll off the tongue.
My life is riveted with drama so apparently I am drawn to that spectrum and words roll off my tongue. It reminds me of hoof and mouth disease. I’m forever putting my foot in that place. There is never a dull or relaxing moment around here, always something erupting, breaking or a major catastrophe to be handled. So it’s time for me to take a vacation from all the dramatic stuff.
I’ve read about Dead Horse Point and have little red x’s marked on my map of Utah of the places I want to visit. Dead Horse Point State Park is first on my list. Not that I would ever admit to it or even say it or write it but – but – Dead Horse Point sounds more interesting than the Grand Canyon. Ooops. My bad. I know everyone and their brothers’- girlfriends’- sisters’- uncles’- neighbor twice removed wants to view the Grand Canyon but I would rather set my sights on Dead Horse Point. Several years ago I did travel to the north rim of the Grand Canyon so I’m off the hook on that one.
I remember when I toured the Valley of Fire. I wasn’t at all sure what to expect? Perhaps I would be forever trapped in the eternal fires of hell. Not even close to that bizarre thought. The Valley of Fire was awesome beyond my vocabulary. I have no words to describe the beauty I saw there. Photographs work really fantastic when I am at a loss for words.
I’ve done a wee bit of research on the Dead Horse Point expedition but mostly I want to be amazed and find out things by myself. I want to visit this Mecca with an open porous sponge mind. I want everything I see, touch and smell to be a new never before attempted experience. I want my imagination to run rampant among the plateaus and valleys. I don’t want my brain clogged with opinions of others. I want all my senses on overload. Not anxiety panic attack overload just in awe overload.
My bags are packed (not really) I’m ready to go. This catchy tune reminds me of a song. ‘All my bags are packed I’m ready to go. Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane’. The correlation here is John Denver, jet plane and dead. Oh no. Water down those thoughts. Change that obsessive thought to Peter, Paul and Mary.
More silly research and I found out one can download that song as a ring tone to your cell. When my phone rings I will just hum a few bars it’s much cheaper that way.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Dead Horse Point - I am ready to be thrilled.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Fried Green Tomatoes
I planted this really cute little garden. Yes, gardens can be cute! It's mostly herbs for my chef spouse. He is always buying fresh herbs at the store and I complain because they are so expensive and he is wasteful. Not that it was his fault that the herbs got wasted. I need to make that perfectly clear!!! So my plan in this downtrodden economy/crisis was to plant a garden.
We have sage, oregano, parsley, chives, tarragon, basil and dill. I didn't want the herbs to feel lonely so I added peppers, squash and two tomato plants. Around the border of the garden I planted marigolds. And in between my cute little plants I have purple potato vines that add a touch of color and artistic creativity to my garden.
My pesticide free organic gardening tool is the flowers. I love marigolds and I have read that they keep the bugs away. Not too sure where I read that piece of information and not too sure it works. It does give the garden an artistic ambience.
My tomatoes blossomed profusely and the buds sprouted lots of green veggies. My Roma tomatoes were developing quite nice and were abundant on my little bush. I tied it gently to the fence because I did not want veggie rot consuming my precious little gems. One day I counted 6 little tomatoes and the very next day - nothing - gone. I had a tomato free zone.
No squashed little morsels lying on the ground or half eaten green tomatoes hanging from the vine. Just gone.
I wondered if there was a tomato thief in the neighborhood. My first suspect was the dog who has been eating the turtle food the minute my back is turned. He's like that consuming everything edible and at times not so edible. He must have a cast iron stomach. Why would he ever so gently remove all the tomatoes off my vines and not leave a mess or cause damage to my cute little garden.
I believe there are other forces working here among us to sabotage my gardening experience. They didn't even wait till they were red and ripe. So, perhaps the tomato theft is some type of cover-up and if any of the neighbors decide to have a community bar-b-que I will decline the offer to attend. I remember the movie - 'Fried Green Tomatoes'.
We have sage, oregano, parsley, chives, tarragon, basil and dill. I didn't want the herbs to feel lonely so I added peppers, squash and two tomato plants. Around the border of the garden I planted marigolds. And in between my cute little plants I have purple potato vines that add a touch of color and artistic creativity to my garden.
My pesticide free organic gardening tool is the flowers. I love marigolds and I have read that they keep the bugs away. Not too sure where I read that piece of information and not too sure it works. It does give the garden an artistic ambience.
My tomatoes blossomed profusely and the buds sprouted lots of green veggies. My Roma tomatoes were developing quite nice and were abundant on my little bush. I tied it gently to the fence because I did not want veggie rot consuming my precious little gems. One day I counted 6 little tomatoes and the very next day - nothing - gone. I had a tomato free zone.
No squashed little morsels lying on the ground or half eaten green tomatoes hanging from the vine. Just gone.
I wondered if there was a tomato thief in the neighborhood. My first suspect was the dog who has been eating the turtle food the minute my back is turned. He's like that consuming everything edible and at times not so edible. He must have a cast iron stomach. Why would he ever so gently remove all the tomatoes off my vines and not leave a mess or cause damage to my cute little garden.
I believe there are other forces working here among us to sabotage my gardening experience. They didn't even wait till they were red and ripe. So, perhaps the tomato theft is some type of cover-up and if any of the neighbors decide to have a community bar-b-que I will decline the offer to attend. I remember the movie - 'Fried Green Tomatoes'.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)