Widdo Wegs

My name is Leslie, and I am a goofy dog talker. I’m not even reformed or in rehab! I can’t help myself. It’s just an addiction I can’t and don’t want to overcome.

I’ve explained before about my father, Dave Bullfrog (David Judson Bullock), and his way of making up names for things and people. Even my mother did that to some extent. I played basketball in high school with a girl who competed with me for playing time. She was even slower than I am. Mom nicknamed her “Lightning”.

So I come from a long line of people who played with words. So it’s not surprising baby talking pet language rolls off my tongue like lies from a gambling addict. Odie’s little legs become widdo wegs. I’ve even got Paul doing it some – now that he’s a single parent to the pets during the week.

Was it Mad Magazine (one of my teenage favorite reads) that had a “What You Say” vs. “What They Hear” feature? Maybe not, but Mad sure had some funny stuff – remember the page you had to accordion to see another picture of something funny out of another picture? And those spoofs on popular movies. “Poopside Down Adventure” for “Poseidon Adventure”. I loved the Spy vs. Spy cartoons in the margins.

Back to pet talking. I’m sure, to the pets; it’s like the Charlie Brown TV specials – when the parents speak all you hear is a tuba-like waa waa waa noise. It’s really the tone they pick up on. Paul just doesn’t have my alpha dog tone with Odie. Or he’s just a big pushover.

At least I don’t treat dogs like babies. Odie doesn’t sit on my lap while I eat. I don’t dress her up in little clothes (she’s hardly worn her little coat all year). She sleeps on the bed, but down by our feet, most of the time. Maybe I do treat her a widdo wike a kid.

Soaps/Daytime TV

Does anyone watch Soap Operas anymore? When I was in college, my roomies Sal, Jane, Vic and I got hooked on GH – General Hospital. I think it was on around 2 PM – right before the Floppy Show (AKA Duane and Friend). We were into the whole Luke and Laura thing. The plot was set at a snail’s pace. I could miss it for a week (if perhaps I had a paper due, or big test) and not have missed a thing!

We lived in a new apartment complex at 230 Campus Avenue in Ames. Our only TV was Jane’s 13 inch black and white. In the spring, we ran an extension cord out our fire exit so we could put the TV out where we could layout in the sun. Oh yeah, I’m sure glad I did that. NOT! Seeing the sun damage on my face and body makes me regret wanting to look like a sun goddess. With this lilly white skin - what was I thinking?

When I grew up (translate – graduated and moved by myself to Sioux Falls, SD to work at a grocery wholesaling firm), I had lunch at noon so I had to switch to watching All My Children (AKA All My Kids). Again – the very slowly moving story line. During lunch I hung with my homies, Palmer, Erika, Tad, Phoebe and more. I didn’t have any real friends in Sioux Falls, so these TV peeps had to suffice. I know, sad. Then I got Bucko the cat and he kept me company. Paul visited on weekends.

When I was not working this past October and November I became very familiar with daytime TV. The soaps didn’t appeal to me at all! I got hooked on HGTV – House Hunter and If These Walls Could Talk. I liked seeing homes for sale around the world, and hearing about the historical aspect of each home in the “Walls” show.

I enjoyed Jon and Kate Plus 8. Kate is very no-nonsense, which I appreciate. You have to be with that many kids! My mother Pat Bullock was known (by us, her children) as the Y(MCA) Director. She barked out rules and had a pretty strict regimen her four daughters. That was back when we only had 2 bathrooms for 6 people. We (gasp) only had one shower. Susi and Cindy had long hair which required use of juice cans for curlers, and large dryers. Yikes! So timing on bathroom use was very important!

You’d never know it by seeing me, but I really enjoy What Not to Wear. Okay maybe I'm a walking billboard for the show. Sometimes I think Clinton and Stacy are a little too brutal, but their comments are pretty funny! I also think that they need to recognize that not everyone needs to dress just alike. Not all of us women need/want to wear stilettos. But I do like how they find the best fashions to fit each body type. I’m amazed by how many women are so against cutting their hair! Of course you CAN tell by looking at me that clothes/hair/makeup isn’t my thing. Trash is.

Old friends

I got together with an old friend today - someone I knew from college. Her name is Jane (in kayak above) and she's always been a very independent, intelligent, musical and artsy person. We haven't seen each other in a few years, but it seemed like we picked up right where we left off, except with a few more wrinkles and a lot of life experience.

Jane grew up in the town next to Earlville where Paul grew up - they went to the same Catholic High School, and Jane was friends with Paul's cousin. I know - it's way too incestuous, but everyone in that area is Paul's cousin. Double cousin even.

I met Jane in college through another friend and we ended up going on ski trips together a few times. A good time was had by all.

Back when I was college age, I viewed people my age - 50ish as old. Now in my elderly wisdom, I know just how damn interesting people my age can be. We're salty, and we've got experience! I enjoyed our lunch Chef Joe's.

Then I got to head home to Creston, where my heart is!

Next weekend, weather permitting, we plan to head north to Northfield, MN to visit some other college friends. Wilts (live near Chicago) are taking their daughter up to check out U of M for college next year. Behrs live in Northfield, MN and hope to also see Hausers who live just north in Eagan. Haven't seen these guys in over a year, so I'm really looking forward to it. Here's a photo of me with Vicki Behr and Kay Wilt - taken a few years ago at Behrs house. When we get together, it's like old home week. After all I've known them all some 30+ years!

How do you spell relief?

Methane gas. And I didn’t have it – the cow manure did. Today I ventured out of my cubicle (along with my boss Al and a co-worker, Jim) to tour a couple cutting edge enviro-projects. The first one was at a big beef farm. It’s a big operation – over 1,000 head. That’s a lot of poop!

They scoop the barn out and put the fuel (translate poopy material) into a truck and haul it down the hill to the staging area. Then they slowly feed it into a pit with dirty water and two sticks of margarine. Okay, I’m just joshing about the margarine, but they do add in some special stuff that is sugary that will help the good bugs begin the process.

Big pumps push the resulting sludge into the methane production area – which is about the size of an Olympic sized swimming pool. The lagoon “cooks” and emits methane gas. The gas is pumped into giant engines that produce heat and power. Some of the power is used on-site and the rest is sold to the local power cooperative. The watery bi-product of the gas runs through a press, where the liquid is separated from any solids. The liquid contains lots of nutrients and can be used as fertilizer on area fields. The solids look much like compost and are used for bedding. It’s a pretty cool system!

When we left the facility, we all had the feeling we reeked of cow poo. Plus I got my new shoes muddy. Damn! Oh well, we had a nice lunch at the Red Frog in the Czech Village in Cedar Rapids. Then it was on to the next adventure.

Cedar Rapids is this site of a Plasma Arc pilot project for dealing with flood debris. The pilot unit is mounted on a semi trailer, and can gasify 1 ton of trash per day. It sounds like a cool thing – magically vaporizing garbage. It is done at temps over 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit. That first blast of heat melts out all metal and turns inorganic materials into glass. The organic stuff becomes vapor – some of which turns into a type of fuel. The estimated price tag for a facility that can burn 250 tons per day? $50 –$80 million.

On the way back I talked Al into letting me stop briefly at the Vanity Fair outlet to buy underpants. Now that I’m a traveling working woman, I needed new ones. I had to choose quickly so I hope I chose wisely. (not butt cutters, as my dad would call the ones that creep up your ass) When we got back to the Big City I learned how to gas (E85 not methane) up the state car at the state pump. Exciting!

Now you know a little bit more about my world. I dig learning about stuff like that. And scored some undies!

Lane changer

Walking down memory lane - publishing blogs from my first years as a blogger. When two people read them. One was probably me. Back when I lived in Waukee part of the week and Creston the other part. I had more time to think about sh...stuff.

Are you a frequent lane changer?

I think the way a person drives says a great deal about their personality. People who hop between lanes like lost bunnies irritate me. Do they really think switching to the middle lane, when the left lane has slowed to a crawl will improve their commute? Is that how they go through life – rashly changing courses without a plan? Don't they realize that once they change lanes, the one they are now in will slow down?

When I drive, I like to invest in a lane, plan ahead even as to which one I should be in at a certain time. I realize unknowns can pop up. A slow driver in my lane, or a large vehicle that I can’t see around will cause me to switch – at least until I get around the offender.

During my early morning commute, I am now familiar enough with the route to know where I should be when. In fact I am beginning to know it so well that I sometimes lose track as I listen to a book on CD and have to “come to” and check my surroundings to figure out just where I am. So far I’ve not missed any of my exits.

Spousal unit, Paul plans ahead even farther than I do! He will go so far as to go a certain route in the Big City so he doesn’t have to turn left without a light. Of course, this is the same guy who didn’t like to walk to close to the edge of the sidewalk in college – lest he turn his ankle. A very cautious man is my Pablo.

Every once in a while I wish I were a bit more impetuous. Not when it comes to driving, but when it comes to life. It seems like it would be so easy to be someone who flies by the seat of my pants. Taking off for trips without checking the map or the weather.

Alas, I know I’ll never be that person – except for right after I consume a couple lemondrop martinis!

Missing link

I think I got gypped out of part of my girl genes. Some women, girls even, are just born able to apply makeup and operate curling irons and other female tools. When I try to use a curling iron, I get a Mohawk. Eyelash curlers turn into instruments of torture – nearly poking my eye out. My makeup can fit in the palm of my hand. It’s a mystery to me what all those products my weekday roommate Kristina possesses in our shared bathroom are for.

My niece Jordan can take a piece of cloth and whip it into a most stylish looking scarf. Remember the 80’s? How could we forget – there was a scarf craze then too. But when I tried to do the little knotted scarf, it would wind up looking like a choker with a lump on the end. Dorky!

At Atlantic Jr. High, when I was 13 years old, we girl students had to take Home Economics. We learned about such things as cooking, makeup and sewing. What was my mother thinking, allowing me to purchase brown corduroy fabric to make a jumper? There has to be easier stuff to sew than that.

Our teacher Mrs. Elming took pity on me, and helped me a little. Even then, the garment wasn’t wearable and ended up smashed in my locker for the rest of the school year. I did learn a valuable lesson on sewing buttons on that has served me well through the years.

I don’t think the cooking/baking lesson took real well either. I sometimes have problems with the part about reading the recipe. One time when I was baking brownies, I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t put the eggs in. Too bad the batter had been in the oven for a while. When I tried to quickly add the eggs, well yep, they fried. Yum. Chocolate batter eggs.

Another time I put a roast in the crock pot without removing the last layer of shrink wrap. Oh, it was cooked by the end of a long work day. But it didn’t look real good. We tossed it. Sadly.

I was born a tomboy, and often feel inept when it comes to some of that girl stuff. My sister Betsy had a doll that was a giant Barbie head that was “Nice and Big” (that’s what the TV commercial said), and she could put makeup on it and curl its hair. I had GI Joe and his Buddy Charlie and their Jeep with missiles.

I guess I’ll never be a girlie girl.

Another book

So there is another kind of book in my life. Facebook.

After years of stalking Amy and her friends on her Facebook (I know her log-in), I started my own page. My sister Betsy (AKA Betso Bean) started one. And she "Friended" my kids and my nieces and nephews. I knew this because I saw it while logged onto Amy's Facebook.

I figured what the hell, she's my little sis, if she can do it, so can I. Besides, people (Amy's friends) were starting to try to talk to me on Facebook IM, thinking I was Amy. That freaked me out! And there isn't such a thing as "WrinklyFacebook," yet anyway...

So I began building my page. It was fun. It was a good way to share pictures and store them as a backup to my hard drive too. Facebook isn't just for kids anymore! I found some high school classmates on there, and friends from Creston too. I "Friended" Goldsmith nieces and nephews - some grown up with their own kids. I'm Friends with some of my Bullock nieces and nephews - others are still pretty young and might not want their old auntie to be in on their Facebook chatter.

I was a Friend of Jud, my own son, until I made the mistake of posting some of his adorable baby/childhood pictures on my page. So his friends got to see how cute he was and made fun of him. Then he "broke up with me" and is no longer my Friend!

I still don't understand some of the applications on Facebook. All that "your friend threw a snowflake at you" kinda stuff. Or the "post 182 things about yourself and send it to 182 friends" thing. I don't like to be invasive to others. If they don't like getting information about me, I hope they secretly "unfriend" me so it doesn't hurt my feelings!

There are some funny lines when it comes to being friends with people on Facebook. Somebody told me their high school aged kid got freaked out because a pastor wanted to be their friend. How do you say "no" to a pastor? And why would you want them to read your friends' smart ass comments about and to you?

So I'm still feeling my way through this Facebook thing. I'm a newby. I'm not able to access Facebook as often these days, since I'm out of town during the week - away from my wi-fi. But I do enjoy seeing what my "Friends" are up to when I can.

Best night of the week

Man, I love Friday nights. It's my favorite time of the week! Work is done, and we don't have to go again until Monday. I don't usually start any jobs, I don't cook (okay I hardly ever cook - but especially not on Fridays), and I don't start laundry.

We like to go out on Fridays with friends. It's unusual, though not unheard of, for us to get together with friends during the week. But mostly we wait until Friday night, when it's fun to catch up on everyones' weeks. Especially now that I'm a commuter.

During the warmer months, we like to have, and go to deck parties on Friday nights. Everybody brings coolers and snacks. Last fall, one time Al cooked homemade pizzas on the grill at McKims - their deck/yard are adjoined to Hurley Creek pond. McKims house is set up great for entertaining.

McFees have a great view from their deck - overlooking Summit Lake where we like to kayak. It's very relaxing sitting, chatting with friends enjoying a bevvie or two. Higgins have a great deck with one of those little fireplace chimney things. The people make it the best though. Donnie and I ususally set about entertaining everyone with witticisms. The guys talk about farming, weather, and such. We all talk Cyclone sports.

Now that's the kinda stuff you can't buy. That's what we value so much about living in Creston. There are people we have history with. They've known our kids since they were little. They know our shit - bad stuff that has happened to us, trouble we've had. They know our joys.

Hell they know most of our stories, so they pretty much could tell them if they needed to! That's why we'll need to live together in the old folks home someday - in case we forget our own stories. Our friends can tell them to us!

So after

After a long day of new employee orientation at IDNR, I arrived back in Creston at 5:30. By 6:30 we were in A&G Pizza, and my book clubbie friends arrived at 7 PM. I had my precious nectar Lemondrop Martini! Yummy. But I learned my lesson and only had one.

There were five of us book clubians. We ordered pizza and some appetizers. Hit the spot! Paul and a group of our friends sat nearby for their own get-together, but hey they didn't have discussion questions and had to free lance.

Book club members all enjoyed "A Walk in the Woods" by Bill Bryson. He's a very clever writer and I only wish I could be as witty when I write. After we talked about the book, conversation progressed from bathroom remodeling, to dog poop and puke. Yes, I love my book club. They make me laugh. I need that therapy.

Everyone should have friends like that!

Best dog ever!

We got Moki, a West Highland terrier in 1990, when Jud was one year old, and Amy was nearly 5. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking – getting a puppy with a one year child to take care of?!? But Moki turned out to be the best dog ever – even non-dog lovers loved Moki. And Jud seems to be turning out okay too.

My sister Susi had a Westie named Macaroon (Mac) when I lived with her one summer during college. I took care of him while Susi and Mom took a trip to Greece and Turkey, and decided to get Mac trimmed at the dog stylist in Atlantic as a surprise. He came out looking like a Mexican Hairless – trimmed bald! So I got him a little tee shirt and put the word “killer” on it, so he wouldn’t look so prissy. After hanging out with Mac, I always wanted a Westie.

I had quit my fulltime job in 1990 to work part time. I figured the kids would only be little once and we wanted them to have some time at home. In mid-summer, I was shocked to see a classified ad in our local paper selling Westie pups. It was karma and fate. Amy picked him of the two pups that were left – these pups were family raised. Paul named him – he said Moki means “great bear”. I kinda think Paul made that up.

I decided to kennel train him – for his safety and our sanity! We put him in the kennel at night and when we were gone. He was the cutest little hairball! He quickly began chewing his way through our home. He ate all Amy’s Barbie fruit and shoes – we found them worse for the wear after he pooped them out in the yard. He also chewed up Jud’s Fisher Price fire truck, shoes, and alas, my prized David Winter cottage. When we got Moki, the owner gave us a little stuffed dolly to take along for him. Moki quickly decided that all the small stuffed toys were his too.

I was relieved when he grew out of the chewing stage and was potty trained. If only potty training Jud had been that easy! Then Moki decided he no longer wanted to stay in his kennel, and became the Houdini of dogdom. He would dig at the door and get out of that thing no matter what we did. Paul finally put a vice grip on the locking mechanism – but Moki would just jiggle the bin until the grip fell off. Next thing you know he would join us wherever we were.

He thought he was one of the kids, of course. We took him along pretty much everywhere. At the playground, when they went down the slide, so would he. At first we kept him on a chain in the yard, but soon (after getting in big trouble a few times) he was yard trained and rarely left our property. When I got angry with him he would give himself a timeout by going into the kennel for an hour or two.

Oh did that dog have a food thang! He would use his Houdini routine to get food wherever it was – in the trash, on the table or the on counter. One time I caught him standing on the kitchen table polishing off the chicken we’d had for supper. Another time he ate 9.5 donuts (only leaving the lemon blob from one). He also put away a stick of margarine. He would sit under Jud’s high chair and would was rewarded with yogurt or spaghettios stuck to his fur. He sure kept the floor clean!

No wonder he became diabetic! When Moki was six, I noticed he was drinking lots of water and peeing a lot. The vet told me to follow him around with a big ladle and get a urine sample. I’m sure the neighbors thought I was wacky! I cried when we got the diagnosis. He was like one of the kids, and I felt like diabetes was a death sentence!

Once we got his insulin figured out, I had to learn to give the shots. Paul couldn’t do it every time! The kids even learned how to “shoot him” eventually. He needed a shot twice each day, right before he ate. He sure was a good sport about it. As long as he got to eat! No more table scraps or treats for him anymore though.

Through thick and thin – and we had some of each, Moki was a true friend. His fur dried my tears when we lost our infant son to a heart defect in 1991. He was there in happy times too! He greeted us each day with a hug (okay he jumped up on my knees) and smile (maybe I just imagined that part) when we came home. He would do a happy dance and rub his face on the carpet to wake up. And oh did he love each and every one of us.

And we loved him fiercely! Moki died in 2004 and his ashes are still in my living room in a doggy treat urn that has white angel doggies on it. Perhaps someday I’ll sprinkle his ashes in the places he loved best – our yard and the Catholic Cemetery up the road. For now, I’m keeping him close.

Life is rosy

Awww, Paul sent me roses at work! (see the photo of my cubicle in this post - roses are in the corner, right by my lunchtime book, plus pictures of my family and tickets from favorite events)

I like impromptu flowers much more than the ones I’ve gotten on “expected” flower days, like Valentine’s Day and anniversaries.

He sent me two red roses and one yellow. I was so impressed that he remembered that we had yellow roses in our wedding. Um wrong. When I texted him to thank him, he wrote back, “Did you like the Cyclone colors?” Iowa State’s colors are cardinal and gold.

Oh well. I suppose after 26 years of marriage, I should quit expecting him to a romantic. I’m not all that romantic myself. I wish I was more so. I’m just so damn practical – it can be a curse. I suppose it’s due to my English heritage – stiff upper lip (if I had any) and all that.

And I’m a tough person to buy gifts for because I don’t like to keep things I won’t use. I’ll never forget the kids’ disappointment when I took the watch back that they (and Paul) got me for my birthday one year when they were small. Thinking back, I should have just kept it and made a big deal out of it. But hey, it was just like one I already had.

And Paul will never let me forget the stick pin he got me for Christmas when we were newlyweds. But my God, stickpins were OUT by then. I couldn’t go around wearing a passé stickpin, now could I? I’ve learned to be very specific with gift ideas, so I there are no unpleasant surprises.

Yep, I'm a lucky girl! I heard this line in a book I listened to last week (Robert Tannebaum's Rage), and I think it applies to my situation in marriage as well. One of the main characters - Marlene Ciampi - she of one eye, big dogs, guns and oh the lust said it: "In my last life I must have been Mother Theresa"...to deserve a such a great husband (something to that effect). Of course her husband, Manhattan DA Butch Karp had just given her a private escape all decked out in cool furniture in the building across from their loft. It was a place for her to paint and get away from the family.

Anyways...I’m determined to think of something spontaneous and romantic to surprise Paul back soon. To pay him back for the beautiful Cyclone colored roses.

My love affair

I confess I’ve had a lifelong love affair – with books. We had many books when I was growing up. Our house, which was built by my mom’s father, had built-in bookcases and they were filled with the things. Mom made a practice of giving us books she had loved in her childhood. Her special favorites were L. Frank Baum books, the most famous was The Wizard of Oz. Oz characters Dorothy, Toto, Button Bright, Tik Tok, Woozy, and the Wizard were good and loyal friends of mine. I read those books time and time again. The beautiful ink-drawing artwork helped me bond with my friends.

My mother and many other moms took advantage of “story time” at the Atlantic library. The librarian read or played LP recordings of books like Dr. Suess’s Yertle the Turtle and other classics. When I was a kid, my neighbor Laurie and I would walk downtown – some 7 blocks all downhill. We’d stop at Bonneson’s Five & Dime or Ben Franklin to select candy. For less than a dollar I’d get bag of purple gumballs, PixieStix, Lemonheads, little wax bottles of colored sugar water, Sweet Tarts - and canker sores.

Then we’d walk to the library where I’d get my limit of 4 books. (That was before backpacks were invented so I had to carry them stacked on my arm.) I’d often then walk to my grandparent’s house, just 3 blocks from the library. My grandma, who we called Momo, would make me ice milk (fewer calories than ice cream?) with Hershey’s syrup. Grandpa (Bubba) would deliver me home in his VW Beetle. I’d read my books and eat candy – talk about hog heaven!

Each week I’d scope out the Nancy Drew books - the ones with the yellow jackets – at Rex Pharmacy downtown. My grandparents had Dad’s sisters (my aunts’) old books at my grandparent’s house – stored in their scary attic. Bobbsey Twins, Hardy Boys and more. I wanted to be one of the Happy Hollisters.

Except for my college years, when I kept busy reading text books and drinking beer, I've had a novel or two to read at all times. Then a few years ago, Deb and I decided we wanted to start a reading discussion group. Not the kind of book club that reports to the newspaperlisting who gave book reports. The fun kind where you meet other people who also have an on-going love affair with books.

So I put a couple fliers up at Matilda Gibson. It's our library in Creston. I know - most people have a Carnegie. We have Matilda. A few people called and slowly we put together a fine group of ladies I have grown to love. Not one guy yet, but who knows~!

Thea has named herself permanent hostess, which is grand because she lives in a grand house with three grand dames - dogs who greet us like long lost friends each time we visit. Peaches is crotch high which makes greetings quite intimate. Thea's house has a pool, which is lovely to sit by, or even get in, during summer months. Sometimes we even talk about books!

We mostly get them through the library via inter-library loan. It costs each of us $1.25 each month. I try to find discussion questions to get us started on discussions at meetings. We all suggest books to get, and I keep a spreadsheet to get to the library ladies to order. There have been some gems through the years and some bombs. Nobody feels bad if they didn't read the book. They come anyway, just to hang out with the cool book ladies!

Gotta go - there are so many books, so little time!

My big race

My 50th year was the setting for my first Half Marathon. I’ve talked about my most disciplined companion Deb. She got herself in such awesome shape when she turned 50 and is always looking for new challenges to keep her edge. One day last spring Deb approached our other workout companion, Patti about walking in the Des Moines Half Marathon set for October 19th.
Patti dragged her feet a little bit. After all, she hadn’t ever done anything like that. It sounded too professional for her. But she said she would train with Deb when convenient.

Then Deb asked the person who is really at heart, a couch potato - yours truly, about training. She said we would be training for several weeks, working up from the current 3 miles 3 times a week to being prepared to walk over 13 miles. “I’m in!” I declared, feeling especially perky that day.

When we started talking about it, there were other chicks (insert mature women) in town up for training for this challenge. I decided to start an email group to inform our loosely knit group about what the training plan was for the week. Some of us would meet to walk together and others would train on their own. We walked 3 or 4 miles early in the mornings 3 days a week, and did the longer training routes on weekends.

That first Saturday we walked 5 miles or so. I noticed I had a hard time keeping up with the others. Why so? I’m still not sure (it could be my inner couch potato holding me back), but for whatever reason I couldn’t stay up to the pack. Deb used MapMyRun to set up the routes. As we started doing longer training walks, I began to map my own route since I would lag and lose contact with the group after a couple miles.

Thank God for my iPod – the kids gave it to me for Mother’s Day. Dave Matthews and various other artists kept me company on walks eventually reaching 12 miles in September. Then we tapered our distances back to rest up for the big day. Each of us had hurdles in the way – sore feet and hamstrings, toenail issues, and blisters of course. In order to help us have the inner strength to continue the rigorous schedule we began to meet for breakfast a couple Wednesdays each month. Bonding over food cemented our resolve! Patti, who had dragged her feet about taking part in the actual Marathon, was most enthusiastic by now.

Finally it was the morning of the Big Race. Des Moines seems to run a first class event. We met in Nollen Plaza near the starting spot while it was still dark. We got awesome wick-dry long sleeve shirts that we all donned, along with other layers as it was only in the 40’s when we got started. The group consisted of Susan, Bobbie, Patti, Diana, Pat, and Deb along with some of their out of town relatives. I started farther back in the pack, knowing I would keep up with them – so I didn’t see them the whole time.

It turned out to be a beautiful perfect day. Local bands, loudspeakers pumping music and cheering crowds lined the streets. Adrenaline blocked any feelings of pain until late in the race. There were water/Powerade and potty stops all along the route. I chewed the sports gum for energy. We walked through downtown Des Moines, Waterworks Park and Grey’s Lake. In Waterworks, Paul and Donnie were there to cheer me on – it was so nice to see familiar faces.

As I got towards the end, that last mile stretched out like 10 miles! Finally I neared the finish line, cheered on by strangers but then…there were my buddies who had finished several minutes before, cheering me on. I got to the finish mat, choked with emotion. I set a goal and accomplished it. It felt damn good!

Paul was there to greet me along with daughter Amy (she hates it when I do that - label her daughter Amy). We all soaked up the atmosphere and let our accomplishment sink in. It just goes to show - at this advanced age, I still have some new frontiers to face and goals to accomplish. What’s next?

I'mmmmm 50!

When I turned 50, I couldn't get the SNL Sallie O'Malley skits out of my head. She declares, "I can kick, and I can jump and I can kick. Cuz I'mmm 50!"

I've never been too un-nerved by milestone birthdays. After all it's just a number, right? But I feel in my mind like I look and feel more like 40. But when I look in the mirror - ummm, that's no 40. But I'm doing the best I can to stave off looking and/or acting my age. On to more highlights from my 50th year on earth...

4. The annual Goldsmith Golf Tourney. Paul's family is huge - 8 brothers and sisters. Parents George and Laura passed on early this decade. Sister Connie lost her fight with breast cancer in 2007. The rest of us are married with kids, some married with their own kids. Through thick and thin we get together right after Thanksgiving in hometown Earlville and then again at remote locations for a golf tourney sometime during the summer.

This year the tourney was held in Freeport, IL home of sister Pat and her husband Dave. It was a smaller group than usual, nevertheless a good time was had by all. (a phrase right out of the minutes from my 4-H club). Paul garnered the green jacket as the big winner. I got to go for ice cream, shop and read during the golf. We always enjoy hanging with the Goldies.

5. Labor Day weekend with my Homies. About a year ago, some of my high school friends and I decided we needed to get together to celebrate our 50th bdays milestone. We finally settled on Labor Day weekend as Sally was coming back to Iowa from Portland for her son's wedding around then. Julia flew in from Boulder and Robbie Dob from Orlando. Chris and Pam are from the Omaha area. I hadn't spent long periods of time with most of this group for 25 years or so - I was a little leery of whether or not we'd have enough to talk about. I mean how many times can you tell the story about getting pulled over by the new cop and telling him that, uh no you didn't throw away a big bag of beer cans at the gas station (even back then, I was no litterbug), it was gum wrappers. Apparently lots, but that's beside the point...

Julia and Sal came to Creston to stay on Thursday night, and we got to show them around our hometown. Friday I met those two and Robyn at the Omaha airport when Jules dropped her rental car off. We piled in my Subaru to go to Pam's house. Or course when we got there, the alcohol was un-corked - but not by Pam or me as we were driving. (take note this is important!)

We were heading to Lake Mahoney a destination park , outside Omaha for the night. Since Pam knew where she was going, she lead with Sally in her SUV. I followed with Rob and Jules. All passengers had bevvies if you know what I mean. I tried to stay close to Pam so I wouldn't get lost - and when she pulled off I-80, and turned right, I was preparing to be there and have a bevvie myself.

That's when the trooper pulled me over. I had rolled through the stop sign. The trooper was a young woman, decked out with hat and everything. Pam had pulled over like 50 yards ahead and the trooper said "get your friend back here". She walked up to Pam's window and when Pam put the window down, evidently Sally's wine aura drifted out. Pam was told to get out of the car, which she did, talking a blue streak as Pam tends to do. Pam was explaining the purpose for our gathering, spilling her life's history in the process.

In the meantime I was madly flipping through every compartment in my car looking for my registration and proof of insurance. Robyn and Julia had quickly placed their drink cups in their over sized purses and tried to help. My heart pounded a 70's disco beat.

Pam assured the officer that the drivers weren't, and hadn't been drinking. She must have believed her. Between that and Pam's constant babble, the trooper caved and quickly wrote warnings for the stop sign thing (Pam had rolled through too), and we were again on our way. When we pulled into the Mahoney Lodge, I discovered I had a nail in my tire and that presented a whole additional challenge. Around an hour or so later I had my first, much deserved drink. Robyn whipped me up a key lime martini, glass rimmed with graham cracker crumbs. Damn good! When Chris joined us later that night, she was treated to a drunken rendition of the whole experience.

The next day we headed to the Old Market area in Omaha for a hotel stay. My fears of us all getting tired of each other were dispelled by then. Yeah, we had reminisced about old times a lot, and toasted our friend Fustic who had passed away a few years prior, but we talked about current events, politics, kids etc. And we laughed - until my sides hurt. What funny, intelligent women they all turned out to be! We spent the night on the town in the Old Market. The next day it was so hard to say goodbye. We vow to continue getting together every couple years.

5. Vegas Baby! A couple weeks later, our Creston friends Don & Diana McKim and Sharon and Al Higgins, Paul and I went to Las Vegas for an ISU football game. Higgins had used their connections to hook us up with a rental house for the long weekend. We had an exciting start to the trip when we left at O Dark:30 and had a flat a few miles outside town. (Creston had a hail storm and everyone was roofing).

We made the flight, decked out in our Cyclone colors and arrived on time. Higgins brought their GPS unit along - smart! Our house was fantastic - 4 bedrooms and Paul and I drew the long straw and got the master bedroom. The place had a pool with a hot tub. After getting provisions - breakfast stuff and liquor, we settled into relaxing! Night 1 we headed to the Strip.

It was Paul and my first trip to this town. Donnie had spent some time there with his folks and was convinced he knew shortcuts from parking to the hotspots. The rest of us followed him like lemmings as we traipsed through back lots, taxis areas, ramps and would then actually appear where we were supposed to end up! We saw a free pirate show that night - which reminded me that Sept. 19 was "Talk like a Pirate Day". We had fun doing that the whole weekend - ahoy matey! (Who's acting 50 now, huh?)

Friday night was the Cyclone gathering, and we needed to head to where the team was staying to get our game tickets from Ryan, McKim's son who is part of the coaching staff. We trekked out to see the Hoover Dam and headed to the fantastic resort in Henderson, where the Cyclones were staying. We waited on the veranda (complete with couches, fireplaces and beds), overlooking the lake with drinks while Ryan finished up a meeting. It was cool to see the coaching staff and players milling around.

Then we headed to Hooters for the Cyclone Bash, It was packed with thousands of Clones - all decked out as we were, in cardinal and gold colors. We saw people we knew and lots we didn't and drank free beer, finally eating around 10ish. There was a live band, and it was almost surreal in the pool area with people in the water in their clothes. I got some good photos there! We rode the roller coaster - something I don't recommend when full of beer and ribs.

The game Saturday was forgettable - the Cyclones played awful in the first half and lost in OT despite a desperate comeback. Tailgating was fun - around 10,000 ISU fans were there. After the game we hit the old strip - it was cool too! Each day we got our quota of pool/hot tub time. It was very relaxing! Sunday night it was out to eat and a nice variety show. (It turned out to be a variety of boobies, but that could be a whole 'nother topic). Renting the house on VRBO.com was a great way to travel with friends. Those friends were great to travel with!

So the theme of my 50th years was fun with family and friends. I'm hoping 51 carries on just like that. I know there are many more good times to come. And those same people will be there for us in bad times, as we will for them. This aging thing isn't bad, except for the wear and tear on the body part...

Keeping up with Amy

I see daughter Amy's blog is on her ten top college times. I had such a good 50th year (I'm 51 now) that I'll go with top times from my 50th year. Who knew 50 could be so fun!?! I'm going in the order these things happened, not by importance.

1. My birthday celebration. It was an ISU football weekend - vs. Kansas State. My good friend Jeff McFee turned 50 on that actual game day, and my bday was Sat. McKims had the RV, it was a morning game and our group's tailgate was awesome as usual, starting with Paul's fabulous BMs (Bloody Marys). We cooked something good - I think that was a McMuffin morning. Bobbie McFee, Diana McKim and I shared 1 McMuffin between us and then they were gone. I filled my new birthday flasks with chardonnay for the game. I must have the thing for Mc things...

The Cyclone surprised us by getting off to a good start! The weather was good. We we dancing in the stands - electric slide. The people behind us knew about the birthday thing and joined in our fun. The Clones won! After the game we sipped bevvies on the way home. Don McKim insisted we stop at Orient for a last drink. I switched to beer there - that's about all you can drink in Orient. When Jeff got home he had a giant wooden birthday cake in his yard that said 50. I never got stuck with that thing. Yay!

2. Marco Island. This is my favorite place in the world. Mom and Dad bought a condo there in the late 1980's, and when Dad my sisters and I became the owners. In January of 2008 we got an offer and sold it, reluctantly. (Man was that a good decision as the things are worth much less today). Part of the sales agreement was that we got to use it one more time. So husband Paul, and sisters Cindy and Susi met there in early April. Daughter Amy even got to visit for a few days. Weather, check; beach/pool, check; Coronas and lemondrop martinis, check. The perfect week!

3. Family reunion, Cannon Beach, Oregon. Sister Betsy lives in SE Washington state, and has vacationed at a beach in Oregon nearly every year for the past ten years or more with her family - husband Wayne and five (count 'em) kids. She had arranged our last reunion with cousins both sides of my family in 2002 there. We loved it.

So this time it was June 2008, and just the Bullock Girls with all spouses and kids, except Colby Lefebvre who had to work. We flew into Portland and Susi/Jim, Cindy/Bolder and Paul and I spent night one with my cousin Leslie and her husband Bob. The ride there was wild - lots of wrong turns. Leslie and Bob are wonderful hosts. Wine was served along with lots of gourmet food. Good stuff.

The next day sisters headed an hour west to the Beach and Paul and I visited my high school/college friend Sally who moved to Portland a couple years ago from Cedar Rapids. It was fun to see where she lives and see her family. Then we headed West as well. By then Susi's girls, Leslie and Jordan Alvillar appeared. Betsy and her boys arrived in their Suburban. Our kids Amy and Jud didn't show up until the next day when Wayne and daughter Sarah flew in from his niece's wedding and met them at the airport. Cousin Leslie and Bob came for a few days and we spent time beach walking - it was brisk there, but beautiful. Everyone got along great. I have a cool family!

I've got to go attend to laundry and actually get something accomplished today. So more on this tomorrow!

Snow day

I headed out from Des Moines today at mid morning. I had heard snow was heading this way. For once it seems the forecasters were right. I hit snow right outside the Big City and it got heavier all the way to Stuart on I-80. I even saw an accident that had happened shortly before my turnoff. I’m happy to report that once I headed south, it wasn’t bad driving to Creston.

There were no worries when it snowed when I was a kid in Atlantic, Iowa. I didn’t have to drive anywhere or worry about events being cancelled. We would pile on our snow clothes – rubbery boots that went on over our shoes, woolen mittens, scarves and hats.

Our family (4 girls spread out over 13 years) had wooden sleds of various sizes with metal runners. We had metal saucers and an aluminum toboggan that went like hell, but could bruise your tailbone. We had a pretty good hill right behind our house, but sometimes we went to the Country Club or to the school hill.

Another snowy activity was building forts and snowmen. I’m sure Mom got tired of me grabbing carrots for noses and charcoal for eyes. We also liked to play “fox and geese”. It was tag on a snow track. The fox couldn’t go off the path we made in the snow. All the neighborhood kids played together.

Once we were ready to go in to escape the cold (or if we got mad at each other), Mom’s rule was we had to use the back door. It opened into the laundry room. We had to hang our soggy mittens and hats over the utility sink and she would toss them into the dryer when she got time. Then we would troop upstairs for hot chocolate with marshmallows. Back before microwaves, she had to heat the milk up on the stove and add Nestle’s Quick. Yum. God bless Pat Bullock for putting up with our snow day activities!

Our kids had fun of their own on snow days. Our first home in Creston was right next to bus barn hill. We had some decent sleds (plastic not metal), and had some fun times sledding with Amy and Jud. Our westie Moki liked to go too and would run along-side the sleds as they plummeted down the hill. After he popped a couple inner tube type sleds with his teeth, he was banned from sledding.

As I write this, Sammy the neighbor kid is outside with a friend shooting hoops in the heavy snow. They’re tackling each other and having a great time. So the next time it snows on my commuter parade, I vow to remember the good snowy times!

Bring your chocolate to work day

My boss, Al, declared today, “bring chocolate to work day”. So Sunday I slaved away on chocolate truffles. Okay there are only two ingredients – cream cheese and semi-sweet chocolates. But they didn’t end up pretty like the ones my friend made. It was my first fork-dipped effort, so I didn’t mind. And they disappeared pretty quickly despite their lack of beauty.

Al brought chocolate salad. Sound healthy? Think again – it was a big bowl of Raisinettes, M&Ms, Hershey’s kisses and my fave – Milk Duds. It was the first time I had them since I pulled my dental bridge out on a big glob of Duds while kayaking in NW Iowa. One has to gobble quickly while paddling, and I didn’t feel I had time to eat them one at a time. So I traveled home with my bridge and glob ‘o caramel/chocolate in a baggie. And a nice big southern Iowa gap in my smile.

I come by my chocolate jones honestly. Most people know that my father was in lady’s underwear (oh how he loved that line). He traveled the state of Iowa selling Lorraine Lingerie, stopping at every little burg Monday through Friday. So he was only home on weekends. Each Friday, Mom baked something chocolate for him – brownies, chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, cookies and yum, pudding cake.

Yep, he was a chocoholic. Even in his latter years he always had a bowl of Heath bars or Snickers. Plus chocolate pudding in the fridge. No wonder I’m a carb freak!

My Funny Valentine Paul Goldsmith came to the Big City to see where I work and live during the week while we are apart. He got to meet my bosses and co-workers at the beautiful Wallace Building. We went out to eat and then I brought him back to see Joan’s house in Waukee, where I stay at night. It’s about 20 miles from my office. Now, when we talk on the phone, he can visualize where I am. Joan has a box of Russell Stover’s on her counter. Yum.

Who's Your Friend When Things Get Rough?

HR Pufnstuf of course. Who remembers TV show? It was one of my favorites when I was a kid. I got to go to breakfast this morning with my buddies. 2 eggs, toast and coffee for $3.05. It’s a great way to start my day.

Anyway, we started talking about old TV shows and Linda brought up Pufnstuf, a Saturday a.m. classic. I liked to watch it when I wasn’t forced to go to Catholic Catechism. Yes, the Catholic kids missed the best morning of each week because we needed the nuns to teach us a thing or two. (Guess it didn’t take with me, see my blog on the swearing thing.)

HR Pufnstuf ran from 1969 – 1972 according to Wikipedia. It’s was a fairy tale with real people and some puppety things. Looking back, this TV show most likely came from some wicked LSD trips – it was the 60’s you know. It featured Jack Wild – and whatever happened to him?

Jack Wild - Oliver

This show must have run when my lotus was blossoming (I was becoming pubertized) – because I had a huge crush on that kid. I even bought Tiger Beat magazine to read all about him. He did eventually star in a remake of Oliver Twist with Mark Lester another hunk-o-rama of the day. It was back when little Michael Jackson had a real nose.

The cartoons back then were far superior to today’s cartoons because they didn’t have to send a gooey message or be politically correct. They were just damn funny. Bugs, Foghorn Leghorn, Droopy, Wily Coyote, Tom and Jerry and more. Dan Miller from Creston and I are Droopy’s biggest fans. My family even bought me a Droopy vhs tape for a gift once - I loved it!

In college we used to watch the Floppy Show (why did the man put the car in the oven?), and they ran the good cartoons on that show. When our kids were babies, 5:30 a.m. was a great time to find classic cartoons showing – just before those shady pretend religious folks – Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker pleaded for funds, with tears and everything.

The 60's, 70's, even 80's were simpler times, of course. I don’t think we expected asBmuch from things like cartoons as we do now. I must admit do enjoy Family Guy and South Park today. The Simpsons can make me laugh too. But none of them match up to a good Hanna-barbera ‘toon.

The answer is: He wanted a hot rod, of course!

Found a Peanut

Each time I see news reports on the salmonella problem with peanuts/peanut products, I’m reminded of the old Girl Scout song we used to drone at Scout events/camp. “Found a Peanut” was very prophetic.

The words go something like this (condensed version). Found a peanut just now. It was rotten. Ate it anyway. Got sick just now. I died just now. Went to heaven just now. As you can tell it was a deep spiritual song. Not really – it was more like “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” peanut version. But you get the idea.

Why is it I can remember many of those scout and camp songs? Brownies, Girl Scouts taught me lots of hokie songs. Bar-L Ranch – the horse camp in Guthrie Center, Iowa where I spent a week each of 4 summers was great for square dancing and singing. Heel toe, heel toe, slide, slide. The camp song was, “I’m a juvenile delinquent, afraid to go to Bar-L Ranch”.

I learned several songs at Cheley Camps way out in Colorado, (where we walked around just like a squashed -insert clap-tomato). Friend Sally and I spent a month there after sixth grade. I think they made us sing for our supper. Yes the tomato line was in their “signature” song – I guess because it rhymed with Colorado. Both my mom and my Aunt Marty attended that camp. Now my cousin’s daughter goes there each summer. I wonder if they still sing the tomato song?

Though I’ve never been a songstress, sometimes I miss group singing like that. It’s kind of joyous like dancing. When my buddy Deb and I kayak sometimes we sing. “Rolling on the River” (Ike and Tina version) is one of our faves. Kayaking is also a joyous activity – especially when it’s on a river in NW Iowa.

Karaoke is an accepted way to sing in public. It can be fun, if you’re in the right mood (insert have had the right number of drinks). You need to time it right, so you’re not so tipsy you can’t carry a tune in a beer bucket. Last Halloween a few of us sang the old Beetles song “She was Just 17” at the Elm’s Club. This was while dressed in our marathoner outfits and sucking our cheeks in to look like actual marathoners. We were pretty damn good. Compared to the rest of the drunks anyway.

Happy Empty Nest

You won't find a lot of people who are willing to admit that they are enjoying having an "empty nest". I raise my hand proudly to be known as such a person. I haven't exactly been the sentimental type when it comes to kid's milestones.

I wasn't the woman sobbing after taking her child to kindergarten for the first time. Okay there was that time I sobbed outside of St. Malachy, where our kids went to school. But that was because Jud, who was a mere kindergartner at the time, refused to go to school. He wedged his little muscular body in the van, and I couldn't get him out.

I trotted into school and cried on Principal John Walsh's shoulder. John told me to ignore this behavior (Jud's, not mine) and take a walk to get some coffee. When I came back, Jud was ready to go in. No matter that there was only 15 minutes of school left - that was back when we had half day kindergarten. Jud never ditched school again! (at least that I know of...) Guess it was embarrassing having your mom melt down at your school.

Anyway, I was the mom making the raise the roof sign when our kids graduated from high school. Both kids elected to go away to college, even though we have a good community college in town. Both Paul and I had wonderful 4 year college experiences, and hoped our kids could experience that too. It's not for everyone, but it can be a great way to begin life away from mom and dad.

Sure, I was a bit sentimental when we delivered each child to college. The funny thing is that it was grocery shopping the first time after they left that got me the most. No buying pita chips for Amy or pudding and Lucky Charms for Jud. It was strange not having a volleyball, basketball, football or soccer game to go to. I missed the other parents who we bonded with over competition through some 12 years. Before I knew it though, I was used to empty nest life.

I never had much patience for babies or toddlers. I was the mom who was happy to go back to working with adults when my maternity leave was over. We were so fortunate that we found wonderful daycare providers for our kids. I feel for parents of young children going through the childhood illness era. Teething, flu, ear infections, tonsils and more.

Parenting young adults (Amy is 23 and Jud just turned 20) isn't always a breeze, but daily life is certainly less complicated. We're close to our children, but they are developing lives of their own - just as it should be.

Paul and I like to hang out together. He's my best friend, and we like many of the same activities. We also each enjoy activities a part from each other. Which I think is healthy for any relationship. We like to visit Amy and Jud and like when they come home. Someday I hope we'll have grand children to spoil. But not for a while!

Sometimes I feel like a schmuck - being this happy that my kids are growing up. But mostly I feel happy that they are becoming independent, self confident adults.

Friendly Breakfast

Now that I work in the Big City, (okay it's only Des Moines, so it's not that big, but hey I'm from Creston) I miss my friends! It was nice of several of them to make time to go to breakfast with me this morning. We have a fun group that evolved over several years.

I've been an early morning workout person for the past 15 years or so, ever since our local YMCA opened. I find that if I try to work out later in the day, I come up with too many excuses - "my ice cream was too cold" - stuff like that. My close friend Deb is also an early a.m. exerciser, and she introduced me to Patti, another early riser. We've been meeting 5:30ish several days a week for years.

Deb is the most disciplined person I've ever known. I'm in awe of her strength - both figuratively and in terms of her bulging muscles. She's always been a fit person, but when she turned 50, she decided to step up her workouts and eat better. She slimmed down, follows a healthy eating regimen and works out six days a week. She is the poster woman of living right and I admire her a great deal.

So the YMCA folks recognized the gem that she is and asked Deb to do an exercise class twice each week. Last year she began doing a circuit training class. It's an excellent workout and after a couple months, a cool group of women bonded over sweat and 60-second bursts of torture. This group became the breakfast club. We also do other fun stuff like bottle (and drink) wine and train for walking events.

The breakfast club meets at 6 a.m. on Wednesdays every couple weeks at S&K Cafe in Creston. S&K is a tiny place that has six tables and five stools at the counter. You can get the special - 2 eggs, hashbrowns, bacon and toast and coffee for under $5. The old men (okay they're not that much older than we are, but he, we work out) love to give us crap. And we love to give them crap back.

A couple years ago, after losing some people in my life, I vowed to try to live life each day, not just get through each day. Breakfast club helped make the workweek more rich - starting the day laughing and talking with friends is a good thing. The S&K owner/waitress, Chuck, knows who drinks coffee and who has tea and diet coke. It's so homey. So I miss this tradition! I think of them getting together as I'm heading into work at 6:15 a.m. on I-235. I know - self-pity party.

So Saturdays at 9 a.m. are a bit busier at S&K than Wednesdays at 6 a.m. We did score the good table and enjoyed a nice un-rushed breakfast. I caught up on all the gossip, and got updates on every one's families. I don't miss the workouts, though I miss being in good shape. But I sure miss my homies. I need to find new ways to enrich my new life. And to work out more.

In the meantime, more get-togethers with my friends are in order!

I love to swear

I don't have many bad habits. Growing up with two smokers made me vow never to smoke cigarettes. Okay, occasionally I drink a little too much. But I'm not an every day sort of drinker.

But I love to swear! I don't know when this habit took hold. I think it was a gradual thing, from goody two shoes to swearing like a sailor. I take a great deal of satisfaction with a well-placed F Bomb. I think it surprises some people!

Oh, I don't swear much around folks I don't know or in professional work situations. Much. I didn't swear around the kids until they got older.

But I do love to swear. I'll be the little old lady talking dirty in the retirement home someday. It will be cute! Or not.

Writers

Robert B. Parker has to be one of my all time favorite authors. He writes crime novels with four recurring characters.

Spenser - of the old TV show "Spenser for Hire" (1985 - 1988) with actor Robert Urich is the character he has written about the most. This week I listened to a Spenser book on CD. Parker sure knows how to write dialogue, and his characters, especially Spenser, a Boston private detective, is a smart ass. The wordplay between Spenser his lover Susan, and his faithful side kick Hawk makes me laugh out loud.

I love how Parker describes food, making it tantalizingly real. I want to sip the beer with him and munch the sandwiches he prepares. I especially like his treatment of animals in his books - mostly dogs. Spenser's dog Pearl helped inspire our dog Odie Pearl's name. My friend Cheri named her Boston Terrier, Spenser at my suggestion. Parker truly loves his canines and it shows.

Another of Parker's characters is Jesse Stone, an alcoholic small town police chief in the northeast. Jesse is a tragic figure, hopelessly in love with his ex-wife, whom he followed from Los Angeles. They can't live together and can't seem to stay apart. Tom Selleck most recently portrayed this character on a TV movie - and part of the storyline dealt with Jesse's aging dog, and how he finally says goodbye. This caused yours truly to blubber out loud. Good thing nobody else watched it with me.

Parker is also effective in portraying a woman in the character of Sunny Randall, another detective who is also in love with an ex, but can't seem to live with him. She's got a nifty little terrier of some type. Some of Parker's books deal in historical fiction, which I also enjoy. His characters aren't always lawful, but they have well established moral codes that I appreciate. Plus they always win! Not always 100%, but they prevail.

Actor Joe Montanye, who has such a soothing voice, reads the Spenser books. He does a great job of all the voices, even the women. Even though Parker books have a definite recipe that doesn't change much, I like these books a lot.

Music (continued)

Our dad, Dave Bullock had a stereo way back in the 1950's. The receiver and turntable were up high in the furnace room. Do you think he was protecting it from his 4 daughters? He loved Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. He got me hooked on the Limeliters and he had an album with jungle noises. Mom didn't have much of a flair for music - couldn't carry a tune in a bucket either. She sure did love my Saturday Night Fever tape though.

One day I had my good friend Robbie Dob over (refer back to my first blog, number 11) over to play. We had gotten a new electric tooth brush and were of course drawn to it, despite all our other cool toys. We turned on the bathroom faucet - cranking those old knobs as far as they would go. Then, alas we couldn't remember how to turn them to turn off the water. The sink filled up and - you guessed it - spilled over the top, dripping onto Dad's stereo downstairs, shorting it out. So much for hiding it away! Mom sent Robyn home right away. Mom didn't put up with shenanigans.

I love to get live versions of my favorite music - the longer the song the better. I think that's why I love Dave Matthews so much - his songs are all like 10 minutes long, and he doesn't have very many studio-recorded albums. I got to see his band last summer in Omaha. It was awesome. I dragged husband Paul along, even though he wasn't a fan. I think we were the oldest people there. And to answer my own pondering question, people still smoke dope at concerts. It was almost reassuring, smelling the stuff. Just like concerts in the 70's!

I've seem so many great concerts during my life. When I got older, I kinda forgot how alive they made me feel. I vow to go to more of them.

1. The Carpenters - Mom and Dad took us to see them at the Iowa State Fair when I was like 12. I probably weighed more than Karen Carpenter even then, though her battle with eating disorders wasn't yet pronounced.

2. John Denver - geez had a senior moment and had to google to get his name! Sister Cindy took me to this when she was going to Drake. I was 15. She also got me a fake ID and drunk. She always did look out for me!

3. - ? A whole bunch of 1970's bands - Steve Miller Band, BTO, REO, Steely Dan, Elton John, Kansas, Peter Frampton, Fleetwood Mac - saw them at Iowa Jam in 1976, and they weren't even popular then, so I didn't pay that much attention. I think it was the tequila sunrises we snuck in. Billy Joel - up close because my friends worked in the ISU Center. I'm sure there were more.
Right now my favorite album I listen to nearly every day is a live Queen, with Under Pressure (maybe because I am...) and a long guitar and drum riff that I love.

4. In more recent years I've seen Tina Turner - in a box at Madison Square Garden, thanks to my niece's connections. Neil Diamond, Mary Chapin Carpenter, ZZ Topp. Plus the fantastic Dave Matthews concert last summer.

Music is a big part of my life. Just one song can make my day start out so much better. Lately, "Beautiful Day" live, by U2 is one that makes my heart soar. I hope you have songs like that in your life!

My Tunes, iTunes

I figure I’ve had 5 formats of a few of my favorite songs. My first memory of playing tunes was using my Aunt Jean’s old stereo to play Disney albums in the “playroom” in the basement. In those days, the playroom was an unfinished room where we sat right on the concrete floor, or on a woven rug that made permanent indentations in your skin. The old record player must have had a short, because it would shock us if we touched it wrong. (bad touching!!)

We had one of those adapters so we could stack up single records on it too. Remember those arms that would drop the next record to be played? Now that was technology! I was lucky to have older sisters so I was up on all the latest hits. Younger sister Betsy had something called a CloseNPlay - it played 45s when you closed the lid. I think it used a nail for a needle...

When I was in in 6th grade, I got a cool little record player for my birthday. Oh how I’d love to play my Jackson 5 album at night. “ABC” and Stop the Love You Save” I moved up to a stereo when I graduated from high school. It was awesome. My friend Chris Deardorff’s brothers had a band, and they were a big influence when it came to music. Thus my love for early Kansas and Aerosmith. Though my musical taste has always been eclectic – I loved Elton John, had some 50’s stuff, and the Grassroots. I ended up with quite a library of albums – and loved to look at cover art.

While I was in college, I talked my ex-boyfriend into installing an-8 track player into my 1977 Monza. That was a short-lived music format – poor sound quality and the cassettes were so huge. I had a big case that took up half of the back seat. The 8-track was replaced soon with a cassette player.

After Paul and I got married, one of our first big purchases was a “good” stereo. We loved it, at least until our daughter Amy ate the diamond tipped needle when she was 2 or so. By then all both cars had cassette players. Cassettes were around for a long time. I even joined one of those music clubs – twice, just to get my favorite albums in cassette format. During this time we also ended up with quite a selection of kid’s music and stories on cassette. I’ll forever know the words to everyone’s favorite songs – like “jimmy crack corn”.

Next came CDs. I re-joined the music club to get all the same music in CD format – James Taylor, Steely Dan, Doobies and more. In fact I think I’m still supposed to buy a few more CDs from them to fulfill my order- man that shipping fee was a bite. Good thing the company went bankrupt after file sharing via internet cut into sales!

I must admit, before record labels began suing people over illegally downloading music, I was into limewire and got many of my fave oldies free. But consider I had owned most of them in 3 or 4 formats already! It was so freeing to have CDs made up of all my very favorite tunes – no flipside junky songs.

For Mother’s Day last year, Amy and Jud got me my very own iPod. That was after I was frustrated walking on the beach with my sister and husband while they listened to their iPods, and I was tuneless! I love my iPod, and spent time downloading album art and arranging playlists. It was my saving grace when it came to training for the half marathon I walked in October.

Now I’m a Cube Queen ( I work in a cubicle in the Wallace State Office Building). There’s lots of ambient noise in cubicle-land, so I cover it with my iPod. When listening to my fave tunes, I really have to work hard to squelch my singing and humming impulse. I allow myself to do the head bob and mouth the words though – that doesn’t bother people, right? Okay, only if they don’t see me…

25 Things About Me

I'm new to blogging and commuting. I thought the two would go very well together, as while I commute to and from my new job in the big city (Des Moines) from Creston - where I live in southwest Iowa - I have lots of time to ponder.

I'm also a fairly new Facebook user. Yeah I'm 51, so kinda old to be jumping into all this techie stuff. But I'm peterpanish that way - don't want to grow up. Anyway...I tagged on some 25 things about me lists, but didn't know how to do my own. So I thought I'd blog a list. Just so you get to know me,

25 Things About Leslie
1. I have a freakish memory for details of my life - things that happened in my childhood. Not for things like grocery lists.

2. I broke my arm at Mrs. Lewin's nursery school (that's what they used to call preschool). We were playing boys chase girls and I, being the ninja that I am, climbed to the top of the slide and instead of sliding down, jumped and fell on my arm. The boys didn't catch me but the doctor did when he put the cast on it.

3. I have 3 sisters - the EE sisters: Susi, Cindy, Leslie, Betsy. All end in the E sound. Our father loved to make up new names for everyone, so we all had lots of nicknames. I find that I follow that pattern. That is how our cat Samantha became KiKi. Dad called me Lulu and Looseleaf.

4. Our Mom died of lung cancer at at 68. She smoked her whole life, and we were always trying to get her to quit. She thought she was too tough to get cancer. She was wrong.

5. We had a little strip of trees that ran the length of the block we lived on in Atlantic, Iowa. We called it "the woods". We spent many a busy day pioneering there and in our playhouse - a wooden structure our maternal grandfather built for us that was in our adjacent yard.

6. We had a dog named Jud, who was named after our dad David Judson. If you know me you might recognize that name - which is also our 20 year old son's name. Not many people name their kid after their dog. He was a full sized dachshund. Our son's name's origin is really from my ancestors though - Adnah David Bullock and George Judson Stewart.

7. I've just started doing genealogy research, and have found a couple distant cousins. I also found out I'm related to George Bush, like 7 generations ago. Hmmm this apple fell pretty far from that tree!

8. Our daughter Amy Elizabeth is 23, and is not named after any pets. We just liked the name Amy and it does fit her. Elizabeth is a family name - it's my sister Betsy's real name.

9. While we're talking about kids, I should mention our son Patrick George - who was born December 2, 1991 and died 6 days later. Patrick was named after my mom (Patricia) and Paul's dad. He didn't get to be part of our lives for very long, but he changed our lives in many ways.
He's buried in Atlantic in the Bullock family plot.

10. I think I grew up in the ideal town in the ideal time to grow up! We rode our bikes around the neighborhood, not wearing helmets, not worrying about being kidnapped. The neighborhood was filled with large (by today's standards) families and we had lots of kids to play with. Our dog Jud followed us everywhere. We spent summers at the Country Club swimming pool.

11. I am still good friends with people I've known for most of my 51 years - Robyn (Dad called her Robbie-Dob), Sally, and Christie Jo have been friends since nursery school and grade school. Robyn broke her leg at nursery school - I think Mrs. Lewin had stock in the plaster of paris company! Last fall I got together with many of my Atlantic homies for a long weekend - I laughed so hard my sides were sore. What cool people they turned out to be!

12. Our high school just started allowing girls to play sports when I was in high school. I was a tomboy - loved boytoys (real toys like GI Joe, guns, Johnny West and my cool Secret Sam spy briefcase). I have great memories of my days practicing basketball and softball and busrides to and from games around SW Iowa. I still dream about that stuff sometimes.

13. I love animals. I'm the type that cried more when "Old Yeller" died than when John Wayne died. I thought I wanted to be a vet when I grew up. I was thinking of the vet that got to save animals - not the slogging in the mud, seeing worms, putting pets to sleep kinda vet. So when I got to college - Iowa State University, I switched out of pre-vet studies as soon as I figured that out. Plus I figued out you needed straight As to get into vet school. I liked beer too much for that kind of gradepoint!

14. I went to ISU in the fall of 1976. I didn't pick my roomate out ahead, but ended up living on the same dorm floor (Shilling, Maple Hall) as a couple AHS classmates (see #11). My roomate was a junior from Illinois who I had nothing in common with whatsover. She was my antithesis. Still we got along great.

15. I met my very bestest college friend Vicki, my first weekend on my dorm floor. She asked me to go buy football tickets with her. We lived together 3 years, the last two with the rest of the Big 4. That's what our guy friends called us. We got along great and I wouldn't trade those years for anything. Jane, Sally (see #11), Vic and me. We all still stay in contact, along with our buddies Moose and Hauser - they were our flag football coaches our sophomore year.

16. Vicki and I skied in Colorado every spring break through college. Each year the group we went with got larger, reaching like 21 by our senior year. One year Vic and decided to take a semi-private ski lesson, and we signed up and found out we were assigned the instructor "Olaf" or something like that. We though he'd be a hunky Swiss guy. Instead he turned out to be like 80 years old - but he was pretty hunky for an old guy.

17. I met my future husband, Paul, the fall of my junior year. He was doing an internship away from college, so I'd met his roommates but not him. They lived in our same apartment complex - at 230 Campus Avenue in Ames.

18. I thought his friends were really hot, but didn't think much of him. That spring he organized a co-ed softball team and invited Sal, Jane and me to play. Vicki was no jock! I spent that summer in Ames and ended up hanging out with him quite a bit. Vic's boyfriend Fred (hometown sweetheart moved to Ames) played on the same team. Vic and I were groupies.

19. My first job was in Sioux Falls, SD. Paul was the only one to visit me there. That's when I began to love and depend on him. We got to know each other better, and I began to dress him better. haha.

20. We got married and began our lives together in Council Bluffs, IA, moving to Osage, IA for Paul's job with USDA Soil Conservation Service. I worked at a woolen mill in town - in the computer department. We made socks and gloves and I keyed in orders. Then we had Amy in 1985. Boy that was life-changing.

21. We moved to Creston in 1986 for Paul's job, thinking it would be a brief stop on our way up the ladder. Somehow, we met friends, had a couple more kids, got involved in the community and we stuck! Our little Catholic school is something special, and that was one reason we never left. The kids got a great education there. We met wonderful people and lifetime friends.

22. My career was somewhat compromised by following Paul's career and by being a mommy. That was okay though. In 1997, I saw an ad for a part-time recycling educator. I've cared about the enviroment since childhood. I hated my full time job at a factory planning product lines. So I took the job and it grew from there to a full time job. I thrived in that job and was passionate about it. I now work in Des Moines for the Department of Natural Resources doing solid waste planning and outreach.

23. Both our kids were active in sports all through school. Both attend(ed) ISU, and we like to go to football games to tailgate with our Creston friends and many others come for the food and companionship with other fans. It takes great internal fortitude to be a Cyclone fan!

24. I like to read and kayak (especially with Deb and Paul). I love my pets - we've had 2 dogs and 2 cats since we got married. Bucko, the evil kitty died in 1992. Moki the wonder dog was everyone's favorite. He had diabetes for 6 of his 13 years, and we gave him shots twice a day. KiKi - Samantha is really Amy's kitty. She has a brown and a green eye. Odie Pearl is our 4 year old mini black and tan wienie dog. She's a good girl - most of the time.

25. I feel so fortunate to have the friends and family I do. They support me in bad times and good. I know, this is too long. More later.