umm, WHAT?

While sitting in traffic the other day I noticed this truck in front of me. Someone skipped out on Catechism a bit early. Amazing.

My head was spinning with the images before me. Was this person serious? (Imagine the back windows open! Hail Mary full of bow-chicky-bow-wow.) Hope this guy doesn't expect Mary to do him any favours...prob'ly not gunna happen.

How does he explain this to his mothers or sisters? Or Gramma? Oy.

I don't care what religion you are, this is disrespectful on too many levels.

stroke of genius

I saw this on TED (lower left side bar under "looking off the port bow")when it first came out and loved it. Last week Jill Bolte Taylor was interviewed on NPR as the book she has written is being released. This is a fascinating true story of a brain scientist who falls victim to a stroke. She speaks of how at first she doesn't realize what is happening, only that it is beautiful. Eventually she figures out something is wrong and eight years later she is able to express her struggles and what she learned as a scientist who observe the stroke from the inside out.

This talk is well worth the 18 minutes it takes to view. I guarantee you willbe glad you listened to her. Awesome.

random list

*We have two new RS Presidencies in our stake this month so we needed to have an orientation with the new gals. We decided a while back that this kind of a meeting isn't the most exciting, always goes longer than you'd think, and frankly everyone needs it, but nobody wants it. So we start ours out with a dinner.

There was one a while back where we were all so busy that we didn't have time to cook, so we ordered up Chinese and chatted it up over orange chicken and noodles. This dinner idea is a good one. The women who come are sometimes, not always, but sometimes intimidated or just plain overwhelmed. Seeing your 'leaders' eating a cheese enchilada has a way of relaxing people.

This last dinner meeting was so much fun. I got to meet up with a bunch of ladies I haven't seen in a while and I think we had more fun visiting than going over a list of do's and don'ts. One of the gals is a teacher, she had fabulous questions so the night went really fast.

I have been away from the house more than usual which has made the interior similar to that of an abandoned warehouse, except it's more like an abandoned 1500sf. E gads, the floor in the hall way looked like it had been carpeted with dryer lint. Partially because that is where the "laundry room" is, but also because we have just run it, done a few loads of laundry and headed out again without polishing the 'wood' (read laminate) floors and we haven't had Roomba plugged in for a while. (He goes back on duty today!) Under the dining room table looks just as fluffy, but with a stray dead leaf. Yeah. Appetizing.

*Ants. Wo Wo Wo unto the ants in this house! I am SO ticked (to use another insect for anger analogy) with these guys! I swear (I'm getting better about just doing that in my head, but still). We could have the kitchen counter smeared with marshmallow cream and they still would just randomly show up in the hall (which they did yesterday), the closet (what's in there?), Thor's desk (because bills are tasty?), or hanging out in the bathroom sink (yeah, I know, the whole water thing. But really; if they want water all that bad there is a neighbor who leaves his on all the freaking time!). We rarely have ants where you would expect them, but the whole of it is making me cranky. I have little black plastic ant traps everywhere. It's disgusting.

*I decided that I can't take the treadmill in the bedroom anymore. (I actually can't take a lot of what's in the bedroom anymore, but I can do something about the treadmill.) So I got it in my head that I could just move this and that and shove it into the girls' room where we already have the weight machine (and permanently set up ironing board - lovely, but I'm lazy.) and the twin bed for that single visitor (all other visitors fight over couches or -the winner- who gets to go to a hotel). So fate being what it is, I chose the day I wore my perfect white tee to do the move. No big deal, it folds; it has rollers.

O.k. So I clear the path from one room to the other, this baby is huge. I had to move a couple of books that stuck out too far in the hall book case, had to move said ironing board a few feet, put this over there, that over there and we're ready! I fold the machine and lock it and the tip the beast just enough to roll it. I SAID: TIP IT JUST ENOUGH TO ROLL IT! Good grief this thing weighs for thousand pounds and is stuck in those tiny but very deep carpet scars heavy objects make. UUUuuUuGGGhhh OOomph Oooohh uh oh! At this point I am making mental notes on how I am very happy no one is video taping this. Sweet mercy this is a bit more difficult than I antiscipated, but it's too late to stop now!

I make it the door, but too late to notice it is exactly 1.5 inches too wide to fit through. Seriously? Ugh. I think "o.k, I'll just roll it back into the bedroom and slide it through sideways." Well the machine only rolls one way. So I kind of have to power lift one end of the beast and twist it, drop it, lift the other end of the beast, twist it and drop it and lather rinse repeat about 15 times before I can wedge my tiny self between the beast and the door jam, which by the way rhymes very well with a perfectly good swear word right about now.

I get it turned around and begin the process all over again, in reverse, to get it out into the hallway. I get it to the other bedroom door and lather rinse repeat.

Inside the bedroom now I (inwardly begin to weep) realize my white tee shirt is no more. But I press on (because I am an idiot). I go back to the master bedroom to grab the floor mat that goes under the beast to catch any stray machine grease (too late, got all that on my white tee and new chinos). I mop it clean and set it down in the right spot. I am happy that the rollers will work! Yeah! Just roll it into place! Whew!

Well until I figure out that the rollers just wudge up the plastic mat into a thick plastic wave of doom. To remedy this I need to tip the beast back onto my self while I bend over enough to grab the plastic and keep it taut with one hand while I walk and balance the beast into place. Yes, this creates a beautiful visual; although I do feel like Mr. Incredible after I am done.

I get it where it needs to be and plug it in. The phone rings. It's my daughter in law who wants to know what I am doing (Is she watching through the windows?). "Just cleaning today" "You want an excuse to stop?" I knew I loved this girl the minute I laid eyes on her. We go to Target. Frankly, if she wanted me to go anywhere it would have been a great idea at that point!

*My two nephews (twins) went through the temple for the first time last night prior to leaving for their respective missions (one to the "South side of Chicago, to the baddest part of town..." Well perhaps not, but South Chicago, Spanish. and the other to Germany/Austria). That was great. A beautiful night to be there with family and friends and to fill up the temple with people we love and respect. These two young men are awesome.

*Our #3 is moving today. This is the third move this year. For some reason my daughters like moving. Not really, they just have a habit of doing it a lot. I am glad for this move. She has her first 'off the desert' job with a "nice" dentist and a fabulous apartment in a great area. Plus she gets to live alone for the first time. If she gets a roommate, she'll be the land lord. She gets to make the decisions, it will be her "house". I am happy for her. Being the alpha roommate has perks the lesser roommate does not. Furniture, temperature level, closet space, etc. She has paid her dues, it's her turn now! I would (most seriously) love to live in that building where she lives, it's a great place all around. Almost perfect SoCAL location for S'mee. She wouldn't be so happy to have us there, but when or if she moves out...hmmm, maybe I can talk Thor into that!

The big bonus is this building has an elevator! Thor and the brothers are thrilled to hear this. Her last move (well and the one today moving out) had those really cool exterior stairs that have about 6 steps, a landing, a turn, and then another 6 steps and a landing. For one level you had to turn three times. She lives 6 landings up. (plus there are five stairs down to the common area, then across the grounds and another five stairs up to the parking lot. These people are stair freaks) Not fun for the movers. Thor asked if he could just throw the stuff out the bedroom window and replace what was broke after the fall with new stuff. If you know Thor at all, this is a clear indication of just how horrid the stairs are. He is giddy about an elevator.

*It's only 10:00 a.m., but all I can think of is some B&R's chocolate chip ice cream. I think I'll call my daughter in law and see what she's doing for lunch.

from last Friday:

I have nothing to say about this except that this was a National Network News Station, and we were well into the coverage...

(click on the link for part of that story)

I put the FUN in funeral...

The Lost Member of ZZ Top
Originally uploaded by zodmczod.

I haven't blogged in a few days because it's been very busy around here. One of the things which took some of my time was a funeral.

An elderly lady friend of mine lost her second husband and asked if I would, once again, sing at her husband's funeral. (This is an offer I get on occasion. It's not that I sing particularly well; more like, "hey they're mourning already, if they are crying you won't know if it's because of you or the deceased...") She picked out two hymns, "Abide With Me, 'Tis Eventide" and "How Great Thou Art". Not perky numbers, but good for getting your grief on. Which they did. Afterwards there were the obligatory compliments on the vocals, and a few -let's say oddities...

This funeral was attended mostly by the elderly. The elderly who are part of a grief support group named "Widows and Widowers". They get together once a month to eat, visit and dance. I, because of the church ward I live in, have many elderly women friends, most of whom belong to "WOW" (I know, it should be "wAw", but I think they thought they sounded to much like WAH! so they went with WOW! -which sound likes they are happy 'you know who' kicked the proverbial bucket, bought the farm, well, you know.) Many of my friends were there. Many other ladies and gents were there whom I had yet the "pleasure" of meeting.

One such gal approached me after the funeral, teary eyed and obviously grief stricken. She said she thought I had a nice voice and then asked "do you have a car?" "Thank you and, um, yes. " "Are you going to the grave side services?" Well at this point, no I was not going to go, but she looked so helpless so I lied and said "yes" anticipating her request for a ride. One thing led to another and, yup, she needed a ride. Seems she was dropped off at the funeral home and yada yada yada she was my new "friend" for the day. Before we left however, there was some down time and post funeral visiting. Other folks came around and we chatted about this and that and waited for the procession to gear up. While chatting with a girl friend of mine an elderly guy -similar to the photo above - came by and gushed about my voice and how pretty it was. "Thank you, you're very kind." "No, not really, I'm old (like 90) and I been around. I know what I like and I like you." "Well, my. Thank you again." and then he left.

My new friend came back to hitch her ride. She was in her late 70's if she was a day. Wearing a hot pink floral print knee length skirt, hot pink tank top with spaghetti straps and platform (you guessed it) hot pink sandals with sequin straps and a huge pink daisy on each toe. She had several tattoos; one on her right calf of a "native style" hula girl holding a martini glass. (late 70's!) Her hair was a toss up of gray and bleached blond and somewhat antigravitorial in poof. She got into the car and tells me she is grateful for the ride - "because most women don't like [me]." "Oh, I can't believe that! You seem really (what's the word here....?) fun!" "Well they don't like me. I know that much. I know the men do, they're friendly enough, but the women have always just shunned me." -Changing the subject- "So how did you know (the deceased)? Are you family?" "No. no. I knew him through the WOW. He would dance with me, but the ladies all hated me. I was in show business and they just hate that." (we interrupt this clever repartee to ponder why S'mee didn't see this coming and avoid it altogether.. Oblivious to seeing that train coming she goes ahead with her question...) "Were you an actress, or did you sing, or were you more in the production end?" "I was an exotic dancer." (did you hear that train derail? Did you see the mayhem?How 'bout the destruction at all? Call for back up! Do something girl!) "Oh, well, um, well, I'm sure you did just fine. Oh look the traffic is piling up!" "Yeah, I made tons of money and gave my kids ponies and whatever they wanted. It was d*mn good money." Realizing that S'mee has caused the wreck herself she tries to set up a triage... "Well, I guess we are going to have to wait here for a few minutes. Look how pretty the day is. I just love this part of the valley, very peaceful. A good resting place." and the conversation just went, well, um, more exotic as we waited to get our space and see the dead honoured via bugle.

As I dropped her off back at the funeral home she said, "Thanks again. My name is Cindy, with an S." (crickets chirping while S'mee puts it all together...) ohhhh. SINdy. Got it. right.

Meanwhile back at the ranch...

The funeral luncheon back at the church. S'mee shows up a tad late to help set up, but there are a few church ladies out in the hall waiting for me. I explain about being needed by a "little old lady who didn't have a car" and left it at that. Low and behold my gentlemen friend (ZZ TOP) is coming down the hallway in time to hear one gal ask why she didn't see me for the set up at the church. "I had to sing at the funeral. " "Oh, that's right." ZZ TOP comes up and says very loudly (and a bit televangelistic), "This woman, NO! This angel from God sang! She has the voice of the peaceful doves, and it was so beautiful! I almost cried!" YIKES-OLA! brother - get a grip! "Thank you, again." "NO!" (holding his hand up as if to stop traffic) "NO! You are a grace! Give me a hug!" "Thank you." (hug) um, time to let go now, oakey dokey HuUuuGGgss OOvver! I get out of this old geazer's hug but he STILL has his hand firmly around my waist. The gals in the hallway are now in a combination of out and out laughter and gross out, as am I. "O.k. well then! Thanks again, now you better get in there and get some lunch now! Thank you." and I peel myself away from creepy old guy. "Only if you come with me honey" and then the "I think I'm going to barf right here and now phrase of the day": "GgggrrrriiioooowwwLLLllllllll!" yup, he growled like Roy Orbison on crack. (Can I take hot shower now?)

Nice to know I still have it.

The ride to the "redwoods"...

The Catholic Graveyard at Tomales CA.
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Thor and I headed out the last day of our trip for a "quick look" at the Redwoods. Thor had visited them as a child and wanted to shared their beauty with me! Unfortunately childhood memories being what they are, Thor hadn't quite calculated the distance to the redwoods from San Francisco and we ended up on a freeway headed north. The freeway was a glorified parking lot and luck being what it is, we turned off and drove west! (My favorite direction!) Although we never made it to the redwoods, we had what turned out to be, one of the best driving day trips ever.

We turned off the 101 at the 12, driving through some of the most picturesque land. This map shows the route. Sebastopol is an artsy, wine country introducing, bed and breakfast-y kind of town. After the redirection from a road block caused by an accident we then went north through Forestville (self explanatory name), Guerneville, and on to Jenner at the coast. I felt a bit thrown back to my old hippy days (at least wannabe) as we drove through these little earthy towns with all natural food stores, hemp purveyors, rainbow pretty-much-anything-you-want, and art and craft boutiques. And lots of alternative couples feeling comfy in their own shoes to put it politely. The flip side being the white folks in dreads and India batik. Talk about mixing your cultures with fashion. But that's those darned artsy types. For me, it looked like heaven, for Thor, well that's another story.

The photo above is (terrific segue) a portion of the Catholic cemetery in Tomales. (looking at the above map, find Cotali and go straight west -and slightly lower- to the tiny little angle on the red line. That bend in the road near the water is Tomales.) A small historic town of (what the town sign said) 5. We think perhaps someone has erased the extra zero(s); but it's not for us to say. That aside, It is a quaint little town, very quiet the day we visited and we only saw about 5 actual folks walking around (so perhaps the sign was correct although the housing states there should be more.) We took the side street up the slope to the hill where the wrought iron gates waited wide open, and drove into the grounds. To the left of the drive way were the tombs. All had the raised curb and further raised cement borders; with the unused graves still grassy and full of wild flowers. Once "furnished", evidence shows a cement slab covers the crypt; and head stone or foot stone mark the resident(s). Interesting.

After leaving Tomales we drove out to Point Reyes in hopes of visiting the light house. It was closed, but after researching what we missed, I am a bit glad we got there too late. This website tells the history (very interesting!), but also that it is equivalent to climbing a 30 story staircase to get down to the light house, and then back up! Hello knees! So I am content (for now) to read all about it. You should too! Have fun!