My boy

I didn't know nothin' about no boys until I gave birth to one. Okay, so I wished I was one when I was growing up. As the third girl in a family of four girls, I was the tomboy of the bunch. I did like playing "dallies". Cindy tells me that's what I called playing with dolls.

My real desire was to play with stuff like guns, cars, horses and to play sports. In other words - boy stuff. That was before girls were really allowed to "cross over" to such things. Thank goodness Tommy Buck lived close by - I was able to play with his little green army men. He even gave me my very own baseball cap. Eventually I grew out of that "I wish I were a boy" stage - mostly. They did seem to have life pretty damn easy compared to girls. (And they get paid more...)

That's me - the boyish kid on the left

Dad was around (weekends, since he traveled Monday through Friday for his job marketing lingerie around the state of Iowa) - and he was a guy. He could fart with the best of them and walked about in his boxers when heading from the shower to his room. I was my grandpa Bubba's fave grandchild if I do say so myself). Still - the male species seemed pretty mysterious to me.

Dad and Bub (with my senior pic photo bombing)

Skip to Paul Goldsmith. A man who became my best friend and the love of my life. When we got married I found out what it was like to live with a guy full time - toilet seats, hunting, sports craziness and all. It was...different. In a good way. After a couple years, we had our first child - Amy. A girl.

Then 25 years ago today I had another baby - and imagine my surprise when Dr. Young exclaimed, "It's a boy!" I was shocked. Our family didn't do boys. Since my dad had been born in 1928, we'd had a run of girls - lots of girls. The four Bullock girls, my niece Leslie, daughter Amy and niece Jordan. That's how Jud ended up with his name - Judson David. Dad's name was David Judson. (Really - it had nothing to do with our great dog named Jud, whom I grew up with like a brother).


Yes - he may have a bit of a mullet haircut here, but he's adorable

Four months later Cindy and Bolder had their baby boy Colby Breton Lefebvre. The tide had turned and Betso and Wayne popped out a slew of boys (4), I had Patrick. Sarah Kohan has been the only girl born in our fam since Jud.

I had a lot to learn about raising a boy. First lesson - they can really pee on their own faces when they are a week old, and when they first pee outside when they're just getting potty trained. When their daddy isn't there too, um direct their actions.

Our boy was much more "physical" than Amy at an earlier age. He pulled the vent out of the floor when he was still just crawling. Jud was strong and had scary tantrums. When angry he was known to stop breathing - until he went limp when caused him to start breathing again. His gag reflex was legendary - we became adept at running for a pan for him to upchuck in. One time Paul grabbed the colander by mistake...what are we straining it this time?

Jud idolized his sis and was very enthusiastic about any "let's pretend" idea she came up with. It was like she was director Martin Scorsese and he was actor Leo DeCaprio. The drama they could come up with - the pillows were land - carpet, water. The stairs were mountains to climb. Jud was a bit of a sleep walker too - that could be scary.


While Amy was a bit (lot) wimpy when ill, Jud was a tough little nugget. He'd just grit his teeth - it was sometimes hard to tell when he was sick. Medicines that were supposed to knock him out would instead jack him up! He had a number of throat infections, so the doc said his tonsils should come out when he was in Kindergarten. When he was still recovering, he was in terrible pain. Later, he puked blood on the couch and had to have his throat cauterized. Before long - he was playing soccer, because he loved that sport and wouldn't miss it. My couch was never the same...

We were glad to find Mexican Donald at Epcot

Jud stopped napping at age 2 - though I'd put him in bed anyway, because I needed one. He peeled his wallpaper border off and got into other mischief. If he did take a nap, the kid wasn't tired until 11 p.m. or later - way past my bedtime! Night owl - that never changed. He's still like that.

Jud always had a head for stats and sports information (but not Spanish...). Like his daddy he loved sports from the time he was a wee boy. Paul tried to interest him in his beloved Packers, but Jud says the star on the Cowboys helmets won him over. At least he became a fan of the right college team!

I can't believe it's been 25 years since Jud was born - just after 11:30 PM. I'm glad I had the opportunity to raise a boy - my Jud. He's a special guy and I'm so proud to be his mom.

A Fairy Tale

A story right out of the Grimm book. You remember Grimm's fairy tales - dark and dismal. This one is sure to have a good ending. But the story is still being written.

There was a girl named Merry Sunshine who had a talent for growing beautiful flowers. She thought about opening her own flower store, but she was young and inexperienced - so she went to work for a fella we'll call Snidely Whiplash. He had a business growing and selling flowers - employing just a few people.

When first Snidely talked to Merry, he filled her full of excitement about the possibilities about the job! Though she would start as a part timer, she perhaps could someday even be a part owner of the flower business if she helped it grow. She was disappointed that Whiplash Inc. didn't need her much to start out with, but she threw herself into doing whatever she could attract business to the company - even on her own time. She enjoyed the plant growing process especially.

Snide wasn't around all that much - especially at first. He took several vacations. The office seemed happier somehow what the guy wasn't around. When he did come in, he praised Merry for her work growing plants and asked for her advice on projects. In the meantime, he berated another flower grower, Nelle, when she arrived late for work due to an ill family member. Merry became uncomfortable with Snidely's uneven treatment of employees. When she discussed the issue with Nelle, somehow Snidely found out and called her into the Principal's office for a long chewing out.

After a couple months of this - enjoying her work growing flowers, but feeling very uncomfortable with the working atmosphere, Merry considered her options. Sometimes Snidely tag-teamed against employees with his brother Boris Badenoff. The stress was getting to her.

Friends and family advised Merry to quit. She finally decided to explain to Snidely that she had a dream of starting her own flower business - a small one. She didn't want to tick the guy off by telling him the real reason she wanted out. At first Mr. Whiplash was understanding - even enthusiastic about Merry's move. He didn't demand that she march right out the door. He needed her to finish up some gardeny projects and she was happy to do so - professional to the end. Nelle evidently wasn't up to the task.

On her last day, Merry took a few snapshots of her best work for her files. Garden stores always show that stuff on their websites. She emailed them to herself from her work email, said goodbye to the gang and began her drive home. Before she even arrived at her place, Snidely phoned her, yelling that she'd stolen from him by sending herself those files - as if she'd stolen the very plants themselves! Snidely is a scary guy - who looks a bit like a pirate.

Merry didn't know what to do. She felt she was within her rights to have those photos. Gardeners keep collections of their plants in order to get jobs. Over the next few days Snidely made her life miserable by emailing her and leaving messages on her phone threatening police action. Merry was filled with angst - would she go to jail? She finally contacted her kindly Uncle Macaroon for advice. He told her to ask Snidely to stop contacting her.

For a while nothing happened. Then one day a constable knocked at Merry's door. Snidely Whiplash had filed a complaint against her - claiming she'd stolen plant pictures. She was told she was not allowed to have a copy of anything she signed at the Whiplash company. Merry filled out a report of her side of the story. The constable stated that he didn't like Snidely one bit. But now the reports will be viewed by a supreme being who will be the decider. Uncle Mac continued to consult with Merry regarding ongoing events.

Merry, wishing to put this behind her finally emailed Snidely to say she had decided to destroy all copies of the pictures of plants. She was worn out by the saga. But that wasn't good enough by Snidely. He sent her a scroll with a number of demands - some of them outrageously dating back to flowers she grew for employers before she even knew Mr. Whiplash. He also wants to tie her to a train track.

If his demands are not met and she is not put in the dungeon by the constable, Whiplash has vowed to take Merry Sunshines rupies ($$).

So that's where the story stands. A bully has threatened our heroine in several ways. He seems threatened by a young gardener who simply wants to grow a few flowers. Merry Sunshine is supported by her family, friends and Uncle Mac. It doesn't seem fair that a bully can get away with this type of behavior in fairy tale land. Does it?  



  

Weather people

Gripe alert. It's not their fault that we're having lousy weather. But I'm tired of the endless days ahead forecasting of bad weather. Late last week they started saying ominously that today and tomorrow would be "even worse than last week!"

Crimonently. Stop already.
Huge storm coming
Coldest ever
Terrible
Awful storm...

and one of the worst storms we've had a couple Thursdays ago in Des Moines, they f'ing missed totally! Sigh. Bring back Connie McBurney (former TV 8 Weather lady).

Connie is behind the typewriter in the light top

We had a fun day Saturday. After straying to Perkins a couple weekends ago for breakfast, we went back to the Waveland Café that a.m. It was nice to hear the patter of the usual staff talking about the stuff they do. Real people. And decent food.

The men inside the window wondered what the heck I was doing...

Glad we got to see the Cyclones get back on the winning track that afternoon against Kansas State. Later we attended Mass at St. Francis and ate pancakes at home. Yep - breakfast twice in one day! We finished chewing just in time to head south to Creston to the Lobby for Dean Leith's surprise birthday party.

It was a nice chance to see our pals. Of course the weather geeks had predicted crappy weather coming around 10 p.m. so we didn't want to stay too long. (It didn't ever really materialize - jerks!) Oh well...it kept us clean and sober. McKims, McFees, Crittendens, Deb - sans Larry who was writing up stuff about the wrestling meet that day, Susan and Brian, Piels and of course Patti and the birthday boy.

I got to dance to Love Shack before we left. Patti made sure the girls danced - she wanted her grand daughters got to boogie with her friends. Evelyn is 4ish is Caleb's daughter. Dean's granddaughter - Kayanna? who is around 8. She is Dean's daughter Ashley's child. Amy played softball with Ashley for a year or so. They now live in our first house in Creston. I enjoyed talking to Kayanna about her room. She said she loved the house but mentioned something about rats. Huh?

The only problem when we lived there was the guy that gave his "snake" an outing while he was supposed to be servicing the hot tub. And that was technically after we had moved out and were awaiting the closing with our buyers who were renting the place. The new Mrs. wasn't impressed with the technician's "tool".

We also danced a line dance "Electric Slide". Yay for Sheriff Rick Piel for shakin' it with us. The rest of the men (and Rick's wife Jeanne) were wimps. I stood by Diana so I could follow her steps. I'm slow that way.

I enjoyed sitting by Deb and catching up a bit - though I really didn't get to talk to anyone too long. And I had some great birthday cake. We headed home before 10 p.m. before things got too crazy. It was nice to wake up with no hangover.

Paul's sis Carol stopped by Sunday. She was in town to see her granddaughter Mandy perform in Dowling Catholic's Show Choir. Carol has offered to make us a quilt for our quilt hanger - so we discussed patterns and colors. I know what I like - but not the lingo. It's going to be beautiful! Whenever I figure it out.

Bacon Dad, Bacon

The Des Moines Register Iowa Life section today features an article entitled, Bacon Memories. Mmmm. I'm not one who covets bacon all the time - but I do enjoy it occasionally. Paul is cooking some up  in the cast iron skillet as I type this.

The Blue Ribbon Bacon festival will be held next Saturday at the Iowa State Fairgrounds. Am I attending? No. Tickets for that event go like hotcakes...and bacon. They're sold out in scant minutes. Only people who truly love bacon deserve to attend. Not me.

But (strike up the Wayback machine) I do have my own Bacon Memories. Breakfast at the Bullock house as the little Bullfrogs grew up held a great deal of variety. Some of it included bacon, especially when Dad was home on weekends. He liked cereal too though - puffed rice. Ick.  I don't know anyone else who ever liked that stuff. Bets and I preferred Capn' Crunch and Count Chocula. Sugar!

We had interesting breakfast apparatuses at our house - special little cups with stems for soft-boiled eggs. Dad liked those eggs a lot. Mom mostly ate toast and smoked, whilst doing the NYT Crossword puzzle. We also had spoons for sectioning grapefruit - wedge-shaped.

Mom probably fried bacon in a pan originally, but I remember her trying oven frying. Then she got the microwave and that was the next big deal. Mom liked bacon crispy - so that didn't last. And just like with any food, Mom could make that bacon crunch lustily.

My next bacon memories are from college - ski trips. Guys gotta have their bacon. The year we mashed 20+ into the Breckenridge condo, Paul, Mike Huston and Fred Behr had a contest to see who could eat the most French Toast. Guys were in charge of cooking breakfast. They each ate over 10 pieces plus bacon of course. For the first couple ski runs, when on the lifts, Fred leaned out over the side when he coughed in case anything solid decided to come out...

Paul with Joyce Huston - lots of coffee went with bacon in Ridgeland





Camping always makes food smell and taste better. Why is that? We camped at Mike Huston's folk's place for the first 10+ years after college over the 4th of July to tube the Apple River. Clark and Joyce Huston worked for Oscar Mayer - Bingo! Pile on the bacon. Boy was that good. There was no running water there so we'd heat up the wash water on the fire afterwards - penance for the meaty bliss.


I'm not sure where Amy was in this pic.
 

Headwaters of the Mississippi

In 1991, Behrs, Wilts and Goldsmiths decided to lease a cabin "up north" in Bemidji, MN in June. We beat the season prices that way. It was a rustic cabin - the walls didn't go to the ceiling - even for the bedrooms. Of course the Behr kids were morning sleepers. Jaime Wilt was a wee one. Our children. Not so much. Little Juddy was 2 1/2 years old. He needed his own dome of silence. (Amy must have slept in). He created my most vivid bacon memory that week.

Of course Jud woke up bright and early - as the rest of us tried to sleep in. Paul offered to get up with him, but it was chilly out. So they couldn't go outside. Paul decided to start cooking breakfast - bacon. Jud marched around the kitchen chanting loudly, "Bacon Dad, Bacon" over and over. Paul tried to quiet him to no avail.

Needless to say, it was an early bacon morning for everyone. Good thing they were all good sports (right Vic?). Ever since that day, the word bacon brings that chant back to me. Later, through his teen years Jud claimed not to like bacon. Today he's back on the stuff though - no chanting.

I like thick bacon - a bit chewy. Dream BLT - great toasted bread, summer tomato, meaty bacon with good mayo or similar tasty sauce. Paul and I discovered Des Moines Bacon Company at the Farmer's Market. Hmm no website. Looks like they need AEG Design Company to help them do a website.

I don't like bacon on everything - like most sandwiches. It overpowers the other flavors. And bacon beer is just icky! Where do you stand on bacon? (insert Oscar Mayer whistle sound)

Dance dorks

I wanted to give you an update on the ballroom dance lessons Paul and I are taking. In a weak moment, Paul agreed to sign up for 8 weeks of classes. He was feeling guilty from his hours away hunting - on trips with pals and deer hunting - especially around my birthday. Yep, I always lay on the guilt trip thick then.

from a pheasant hunting trip with Tom Sullivan

The classes are held above the West Des Moines Community Center in the 2nd floor ballroom - a large space with a newly refinished wood floor. We attended class the last two Sundays, and again last night. We're switching to Thursdays - which is a smaller class size.

We will get more attention from our teachers that way because we are (currently) awful dancers! We've even practiced. Just like in any sport, (and - this does seem like a sport) practice helped. We are moving through the dances at an amazing rate. Too fast really. Why don't they offer remedial classes? 

• Merengue (pronounced merengay)
• Fox Trot
• Swing 

Classes are an hour long. We start each with one dance step and start the next at the end of class. Hell, we can't remember the merengue stuff already! Thank God for YouTube. We purchased the dance music CD from the teachers for $3 and practiced our Fox Trot at home Wednesday night in preparation for Thursday's class.

We were still pretty lousy. In our defense, I wore the wrong shoes (due to the cold weather). They stuck to the floor and the music was too slow. Yeah, that sounds pretty pathetic, doesn't it? I must fight the tenancy to lead - which I've done throughout our marriage anytime we've slow danced. Paul has to fight his "heavy hands" yanking me around. We must remember all our prior dancing experience often relied on alcohol. I guess that's why we always thought we'd be good at this...

Swing seemed more natural to us than the first two dances - like something we might actually do when dancing at a wedding. We may head to Creston tomorrow for a party with a DJ. Paul already warned me - "we aren't doing any of this stuff there"! He's not ready to break out the moves yet. While our moves on the dance floor aren't always synchronized, our thoughts are simpatico on this one!

Pardon me all to pieces

There were 40+ in attendance at the workshop at the Ramada on Merle Hay

I've been doing this all wrong! I attended a marketing workshop today, put on by my work peeps. It was much needed and really good. Trash people need help finding ways to get the message out to people about just what it is (bury trash, deal with household hazardous waste, run recycling programs and more) they do. I should know - I used to be one of them! People think it's still the dump.

Mark Mathis talks to a group from across the state

In the small world department, it turns out the marketing firm that presented at the workshop is run by Mark Mathis - the husband of Liz Mathis, former TV broadcaster from KWWL in Waterloo and High School classmate of my college roomie Vicki. They were DeWitt class of 1976 grads. Kumbaya!
This is Mark's blog on marketing. One-Minute Marketer.

The first thing I took away from the workshop is that my blog is way too long. Oops! Sorry readers. I just pump them out. I heard that takes a minute for people to read 200 words. This Internet thing that Al Gore invented - it has resulted in reading ADD. I will try to do better. Or less. Twitterize it, Mark said. At least I'm not marketing what I write...even though I saw that I could have made $784 last year as my blog was ranked the 11,485,988th blog. But you'd have to look at ads. Yuck.

I DID find out why Paul doesn't know most of what I've told him - and proceeds to repeat it to me like a new fact a few days later, "Did you hear that...?" Why I told you that a few days ago...People only absorb 18% of the information coming at them - in that staff meeting, at church, at home when their wife is telling them important stuff.

There is a great deal of clutter in our lives. Mark Mathis told us

• We were hit with 570 messages a day in 1970
• 3,000/day in 2008
• 5,000 today

And those darn marketers - they just keep finding ways to squeeze in their products. It takes 12 ad exposures before purchase and 47 days. Workshop participants received a great deal of information to help them figure out the best ways to get the best methods to reach their customers - and then evaluate the results (my favorite part). They will be able to receive follow up training over the next few weeks. Our department is helping Iowans get information about safe disposal of the things they have to get rid of. Yay us. That's why I work there. Woot, woot!

Dave Bullfrog pants

Surprise! Plaid pants are BACK - and not just for old guys...

Walking through Younkers yesterday I saw plaid Izod pants on sale. I thought of my dad right away - Dad - your pants are dialing you up from Des Moines. Man how he loved the bright plaid pants - mostly primary colors. Add a white leather belt and loafers - and a nice golf shirt (likely from a club in Beaver Creek, Colorado) and zing! Dave Bullock signature outfit.




They aren't wild, but they're plaid...

I entertained myself at the mall yesterday afternoon. I'm somewhat of a loner, really. Love my girlfriends - but am perfectly happy hanging by myself. At least for a day. Paul was ice fishing in Orient, Iowa with Wade - the guy who replaced him at the Creston job. Yep. Sitting on ice with a line hanging through a hole - like Grumpy Old Men. Except he was happy!

We both had the day off thanks to Martin Luther King Day. I love Mondays off. It was a leisurely a.m. then off the YMCA. I'm still stiff today after utilizing the weight machines - getting used to those things.

I headed to Valley West Mall for a pedicure. There were only a couple young women in the place having pedis too and I really didn't listen to them until they positioned themselves by me under the "dryer". They were friends who looked to be in their upper 20s. One was asking for coaching from the other. My nail artist looked up at me to see if I was listening when the one mentioned she owes more than $50,000 in student loans. Jeepers! So glad my kids aren't saddled with debt.

Once my nice newly blue nails were dry, I decided to head to Von Maur to check out the shoe room. On my way by Victoria's Secret I overheard an guy tell his wife "ask them if I can come watch you try them on" as she walked in the door. And she was no spring chicken. Neither was he. Guys...they're always so hopeful! I chuckled all the way to VM.

I enjoyed myself trying on shoes at Fit to be Tied. But I showed great self-control and walked away. It was a great day at the mall.

Skiing - beginning experience

Amy is skiing with friends this weekend. (Snowboarding really) I'm jealous - though I haven't skied for years now. I have many fond memories from my days on the long boards. Except that first experience...

Sister Susi (she had officially dropped the "e" from the end of her name by then -hippy!) was attending college in Denver. For the first two years, she was at Temple Buell - a small private school that eventually turned into Colorado Women's College. She played on the golf team and dated fellas from the Air Force Academy.

The Bullocks decided to visit Susi and try downhill skiing. We'd done waterskiing - so what could be so hard? I think I was in 8th grade. It may have been our Thanksgiving break. All of us - including my father were going to ski. Mom arranged for us to borrow ski clothes from the Pellett family.

The Paul and Betty Lou Pellett Family was Atlantic's version of the Kennedys (except Republican). I will do a whole blog on them later - what a clan! The Pelletts skied often and had the gear of the day - stretch pants, mittens and goggles. It was great that we didn't have to buy that stuff. Susi had been skiing since she started attending school there - so she was a bit of an "expert". I don't know if she had her own skis or not.

We were skiing at Loveland (click for webcam) - the first ski area on I-70 past Denver, near Georgetown where we had a motel lined up. It was so exciting and scary. Most of the family rented skis and boots, but not Dad and me. I got to use my Aunt Jean's 1950's boots (lace up - really?) and long wooden skis. Dad had some family member's too. That is important to this story. In that era, someone decided new skiers should learn with skis that were very short. So Betso, Cindo and Mom got that kind. Dad and I were in the antiques. (likely saving $10)


The probably weren't this bad..but in my mind...

Susi wisely lined us up for a short beginner's class on the bunny hill. That seemed to go okay. Then, after a sandwich lunch and hot chocolate, she volunteered to partner with me to go up my first ski lift. It might as well have been a NASA launch as complicated as it seemed to be with my mile long skis! Once I got my ass situated onto the seat, the ride was okay - but I knew the end was coming and I'd have to get off the damn thing.

And did I ever get off! I wiped out in the snow platform leading down from the chair and slide towards what seemed to be a cliff. If I went over that cliff, I just knew I was going end up with broken limbs in some sort of skiing hell. I was terrified and started bawling. Susi helped me maneuver my way out of that precarious situation and start down the hill - which seemed to be a sheer drop. Snot got on my (Pellet's) goggles. I sat on my butt and felt sorry for myself. Susi was forced to use all her collegiate (she was a Sociology major) and big sis tricks to get me going again.

Somehow, I survived! The rest of the family survived. My ankles and Dad's were very bruised from the old leather lace-up boots we wore. Cindy remembers being so very exhausted that she didn't even make it out for supper that night - she just went to bed. Mom was likely stuck dealing with Betsy, who was 10ish and I don't remember much about them...it was all about me, me me.

You'd think I would have never wanted to ski again after that experience. But somehow it was like childbirth...after a year went by, I'd forgotten the bad stuff! By then, Cindy was a frosh at Drake and she and her boyfriend Doug Mustoe took Jennifer Deter and me to some tiny ski place with a rope tow by Dexter. I wore fuzzy mittens (I guess I didn't get the Pellett equipment) and several times they stuck to the rope and continued around the top of the tow without me...I used new equipment there and had a great time.

Cindy had her new Christmas skis (K2s - I can still remember them sitting in her bedroom, a proud possession). Even though her love affair with Doug didn't last, the one with sport of skiing did! She went skiing often and eventually headed west to live in Vail after college graduation. The old bat (and I say this in a loving way...) will soon be 60 and skis often - even helping on the mountain at times when she isn't working her "real" job in Human Resources for Vail Resorts. She says the snow this winter has been fabuloso!

Sadly, Mom and Dad never skied again. Golf was more their thing. I will write more on the fun I've had skiing through the years - and if someone could plop me at the top of the mountain in gorgeous weather with my skis (not wooden) on, I'd do it again. If it wasn't icy or cold. And I could be guaranteed not to fall. Yep...I'm such a wiener. Writing about it almost has me excited about going again someday...



 

The 2 Leslies strikes again

Last Thursday, when I was traveling for work, I received a forwarded email from the State of Iowa on my cell phone. Julie Sterk's email said I needed to pay my outstanding parking ticket before February 7th or I'd be thrown in the slammer.

No not really! I did get the email, but it said the fee would go up drastically from the $10 I supposedly owed to some outrageous amount. What? I park in the ramp by the Wallace Building each work day and hadn't seen a ticket on my windshield - that I knew of. I asked for a copy of said ticket.

When I was able to download and look at the official document, it all became clear. The officer who wrote the ticket had made the same mistake as many others before him. He'd fallen under the effect of the 2 LGs. I've reported here before that Leslie Goldsmith (married to Paul) of Chariton and I are often mistaken for each other. It's comical, it's frustrating, it's crazy.

The name on the ticket was mine - but the car wasn't mine, nor the license or address. Don't they check that stuff before they whip out their ticket books? I have parking passes in both our vehicles. A simple cross check of those to the vehicle in question would have precluded this ticket.

On Friday, when I got back to the office, I emailed Julie back, explaining the situation. That Leslie Goldsmith IS a visitor. It wasn't me, I swear!

I forwarded the email Leslie, to let her know we were once again victims of the "same person" syndrome. You see we've become friends through all this. Our last conversation was when she texted me to remind me of a doctor's appointment I'd set. They'd called her to remind her...plus they'd melded our files together. That was a fun one to fix.

Leslie was impressed that I have that much pull at my job. Haha. Her daughter is now working for the state, and she must have been visiting her. (They have a son and a daughter just like we do - but their son is the older of the two). Julie emailed later to say the Department of Public Safety would void the ticket. Phew!

We need to get together with our alter-egos again sometime. Fun and interesting people! Isn't it nice of the Capital Security folks to remind me....

2 Leslies, 2 Pauls

So far

It was a very long week. It was icy Friday morning and I was driving the state car - a 5-year old hybrid Honda Civic with 120,000 miles. I missed my Subaru! I was happy to arrive at home that afternoon and take a nice relaxing bath - my tub is my happy place!

to go out for a nice martini prior to going to a movie. We saw the big award winner, American Hustle. The martini was great! The movie - I don't get it. Sure the acting was magnificent - but no more so than the last two movies we attended. I found myself thinking, "how much longer is this?" I still rank them:
1. Nebraska
2. August in Osage County
3. Saving Mr. Banks
4. American Hustle

I guess I'm not Oscars voter material!
Now I am ready to see just a fun entertaining movie.

We woke up to a gray, rainy/snowy day. I went for a swim at the Y before 7 a.m. Then I talked Paul into going to the AKC dog show at the Iowa Fairgrounds. For $2 each we got to walk through and feast our eyes on the canine competitors - worth the price of admission just to see the owners primping the pooches for the show.

Most of the owners were very intently preparing their animals.

 

Dog watching made us hungry...for dogs! We headed to Capital City Pub for hot dogs and beer. Then we stopped at the Woodsmith Store - winter projects for Paul. We made the nice choice of attending church instead of watching the 2nd half of the ISU game on TV. You'd think the Big Guy would have come through after that...but I guess there were some folks in church somewhere that were Texas fans too...

Music memories

I mentioned in a recent blog that a certain song - "Dream On" by Aerosmith always reminds me of riding to scout teams with our girl's basketball coach, Sharon Leslein. Another song, "Tush" by ZZ Top brings back memories of practicing hoops wearing headbands.

It seems my memory bank relates many songs to certain occasions or events. Like the song "Way Down Yonder in the Paw Paw Patch". That one can only reminds me of riding to Mrs. Luin's nursery school. We sang it sitting in the back of her blue station wagon (all loose and shit - no seat belts! Gasp.) What - you say you've never heard of that song? Why you're missing a good one!

"The Ants Go Marching One By One" and many other similar obnoxious songs remind me of girl scouts and summer camp. Kumbaya, ya'll. My vote for the most obnoxious?" 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall."

Junior High was the time of young love and first dances. All the slow songs of that era bring back those dances. We usually ended each dance with Chicago's "Color My World." For the first formal dance sponsored by the school, I wore a blue corduroy dress that tied at the waist. Awesome! Even today that song still makes me go "awwww" in a melodic fashion. How cute - lil kids dancing slow with each other. Other fave - "Hey Jude."

In High School my friend Joanie Troll sometimes picked me up for school in her green car. The Doobie Brothers song "Black Water" makes me think of piling into her car, with several smokers (my buddies thought it was badass then) harmonizing to that song. Or we'd be in Sally's Merc.

Move on to my lifeguard days - at Sunnyside Pool in Atlantic, Iowa. The only station we could really get was the AM one out of Omaha. Top 40 baby! Certain songs come on and immediately I thing - yep, lifeguard song. I got one day off a week that summer - sometimes I'd head to Omaha to purchase new albums to play on my stereo. A couple I remember getting were Foreigner "Feels like the First Time" and the Commodores - "Easy on Sunday Morning was my favorite."

Tunes are important to college students. I was glad to have my stereo - received as a high school graduation gift from my parents, for my dorm room. Frampton Comes Alive was one I listened to when I got to school - with "Do You Feel Like I Do". I'd gone to see him in concert at Civic Auditorium in Omaha with Craig Both the summer before I went to ISU. I think Chris Deardorff and Jeff Weppler (RIP buddy) were with us. My first college roomie, Loraine Dunn turned me on to Lynyrd Skynyrd - loved me some "Free Bird."

The first few weeks I was at college there was a live band playing at the Great Room at the Memorial Union. The did a great rendition of BTO's "Takin' Care of Business." I learned how to do The Gator (it's a dance that involves gyrating on the floor) that night - so hearing that song brings back good Gator memories! Our friends Moose and Steve influenced our (my roomies and me) music listening during my college years. When I hear Thelma Houston's "I've Got the Music In Me", I remember borrowing their stereo for our apartment parties. Fleetwood Mac's "Sarah" reminds me of driving in the back of Fred Behr's dad's car to Breckenridge to ski for spring break - 20 of us packed into one condominium, what a blast!

ski group - we had a great time!

When I graduated from ISU and headed to Sioux Falls to my first job, Christopher Cross's "Ride Like the Wind" send me on my way from Ames west. The song "Mountain Music" by the group Alabama takes me to when we started camping in Ridgeland, Wisconsin at Mike Huston's folks' farm each 4th of July for about 15 years straight starting in 1980. It was tradition for a long time - loved those times, that family and the song brings back those warm feelings!

Ridgeland - we drank a lot of beer!
 

Hearing Steve Winwood's "Valerie" reminds me of my time in the Big O - Omaha - windows downn on my Chevy Monza driving down West Center Street on my way to Bakers Grocery Store. Then Paul and I got married and moved to Council Bluffs (or as the T-shirt says Counciltucky). Sadly - we tired of moving all those albums around and tossed many in the dumpster when he got a promotion and we moved to Osage in northern Iowa.

Music came even into play when we were deciding what to name our first child. Lindsay? Stephanie? When started listening to Pure Prairie League's "Aimee" we knew that was it. When our babe was born she was an Amy, which means "Beloved". I traveled for work when we first moved to Osage - listening to Springsteen's "Born in the USA" from that era.

Moving south to Creston - brings us to the infamous First National Bank Christmas party. This one involved a dance at Crestmoor Country Club - one loan officer's young wife dirty danced with an older loan officer who was a widow. Much liquor was involved. I began a love affair with the song "Love Shack". It's still my favorite dancing song today - just ask my kids. And friends. And husband. Pretty much anyone who knows me! When my kids were young, I introduced them to many of my favorite artists and I'm afraid it took. Amy still loves Fleetwood Mac, Wilson Phillips, Jann Arden and some other bands we played in the day. I would put the stereo on and we'd dance - oh how we'd dance.

I could go on  - but you get the picture. I'm sure you have your own music memories. Care to share? As you can tell some of mine are very specific - a song goes with a very important memory in my life.

Thanks to the writers and musicians in this world who have helped make the times of lives richer.

Bar L Ranch - paradise for kids

I must have been happy to see Betso when they came to pick me up at camp - check out those boots!

I drove through Guthrie Center as I traveled back from Cherokee yesterday. I'd gone there for a work trip. I took I-35 and drove on across Highway 20 on the way to the Cherokee Landfill to talk to the director and a couple other folks about my programs. The trip took longer than the meeting, which went well - they appreciated my visit. Ever the trailbreaker, I took a different route back - heading south on 59 and 71 then to 25. This route took me by a place I spent many a happy hour in my youth - Bar-L Ranch just south of Guthrie Center.

Bar-L Ranch was the summer camp of choice for many families from my hometown of Atlantic - some 45 miles from Guthrie Center. Bar-L was a horse ranch and you know how girls love horses. I was crazy about horses from an early age. Today the place looks rather shabby.

My sisters Susan and Cindy blazed the trail to Bar-L before me. I remember going along in the car to drop them off at camp before it was my turn to go. We'd watch them get assigned their horses and ride off into the sunset (or at least the show ring). It was so exciting - I couldn't wait for my turn! Dad took home movies of Cindy stepping into the saddle stirrup on one pony, stepping up with the wrong foot. You can see on the video that she realizes she's going to be pointing backwards. Funny! Ah, the stuff of America's Best Videos.

The year I turned 7, it was finally my turn! I got to go to camp with Cindy, who by then was a camp veteran at age 11, all-knowing of saddles and bits. Bar-L was run by the Luckinbill family - patriarch Harold, in my young viewpoint was a large man with a large voice. He terrified me! The girls bunkhouse was located above the mess area, with the bathroom below. We all stayed in bunk beds. It was all very big stuff for a youngster. I'd never been away from home for a week.

We arrived at camp on Sunday afternoon and were assigned our ponies as our parents looked on. I imagine my mother on that Sunday - giving me a hug and leaving me that Sunday - with tears in her eyes. No - not from sadness. She was likely giddy, thinking "a week with 2 less children!"

That first year I was the smallest kid and got one of the smallest ponies - a black one whose name escapes me now. When we did trail rides, my little black pony and I were at the end of the line. The camp counselors saddled them up the horses and ponies every morning while we dined on pancakes and sausage. Then we were supposed to help get the bit into our horse's mouth. Some of them were pretty good at gritting their teeth! and away we'd go.

I remember being intimidated by the shower room. There were big girls with boobs in there! So I can't imagine I took many showers that week - but hey we did go swimming a couple times, perhaps that helped me avoid stiff hair and smelly body. No - Bar-L didn't have a pool. We'd take the bus into town and swim at the Guthrie City Pool. After breakfast each day, we'd go for a trail ride, and if I was lucky we'd get to canter in a circle at the top of one hill. That was like getting to ride the roller coaster for me - such a thrill!

Afternoons at camp were spent doing crafts like plastic lanyard weaving, leather key rings and making clay ashtrays out of various materials. Early in the week we did a stint of square dancing - I still know a few beats, heel toe, heel toe, slide slide. I was too young to have sweaty palms about the whole deal. Plus there were few boys - so we all just danced together. I was so concerned about sitting by Cindy at mealtime that I budged in line I got a swat on the butt by Harold for my efforts. Can you imagine that happening at a camp today?

One night we got to ride our horses bareback! Wow, that was way different than riding with a western saddle. One must really squeeze with one's thighs to stay on a horse when there isn't a saddle to help!

A couple years when I was at Bar-L I got to go to "swing land". In my memory, this was one of the biggest thrills of my life, the night at the bag swing camp. That was an area outside Guthrie where seed corn bags stuffed with something were strung on long ropes from trees. There were cliff and ladder launch swings. Some seemed treacherous to get to - so to get up the courage to "do that swing" earned you some kudos. It was a blast to conquer those bags. Better than Disneyland any day!

At the end of the week, we Catholics were forced to get up, don doilies on our heads and go to church in town. How I longed to be a Protestant on that day. Character building I'm sure. Then our parents would come to get us after lunch. I attended Bar-L for 4 years. The last year I went with several Atlantic girls, including Sally, Barbie Gee and Barb Hutchinson. We had fun on a snipe hunt, ate Smores and carved our names into the sandy rock above the camp. I'm sad to see the place looking so bedraggled - especially the sagging barn.

My little piece of Americana. Carry on campers. One day, some twenty something years later, I got to take my darlin' girl Amy and niece Leslie to Bar L to spend a week. The circle of life!

Locker room stories

The best sports story Sunday wasn't on the sports page. It wasn't even on TV. It was on the front page of the Des Moines Register. I complain sometimes that the paper lacks quality articles these days. Print media has changed, and many of my favorite writers have gone by the wayside at that publication.

But Sunday, one of the reporters, Bryce Miller, put forth a long article on the Des Moines North High School boys basketball team. In our paper it was on the front page and it was excellent. (click long article above to read) The printed version had great photos, including pics of each player. Plus an address for donations.

It's not likely North will end up winning the state championship. Or even their conference title. But these guys are winners. It starts with the coach, Chad Ryan, who has stuck with it seven years - chauffeur, mentor, therapist, coach and parent figure and friend. A former Iowa State player, Morgan Wheat serves as one of his assistants.

The players have challenges besides which girl to ask to prom. Their coach wants them to go to college. They're experiencing success both on the basketball floor and in the classroom. The article had me cheering for this team. Good luck to each of them in the future.

The article also made me remember my coaches from my high school years. The 70's were when girl's sports beyond tennis and golf in my hometown of Atlantic, Iowa were just starting to be allowed. Girls could run and jump without getting the vapors? Imagine that!

I played softball on teams coached by Joel Simms - he was quite a flirt, and a very good coach. We had a great time on the bus and drove around in Kristy Davis's classic car with root beer floats after games. The softball diamond was down by Sunnyside Pool back then. Toni Robinson, Chris Watson, Becky Nelson, Sandy Larsen (when her ankle wasn't busted), Joanie Troll, Sal..and Mona and me.

My sophomore year we finally were allowed to play basketball. All those years of playing on Reinertson's patio - the hoop nailed to a wood pole. I'm sure they looked out and thought - there she is again...I'd play with my ABA ball. American Basketball Association. It was red, white and blue. We also had a tile floor in our basement, so after I got the ball, I would dribble down there until Mom yelled at me.

My first coach was Dale Allen - for varsity. I was on Junior Varsity as a Sophomore. I believe our JV coach's name was Chuck McLaren. He was pretty quiet. We were all learning about this girl's basketball thing! That first year, something like 70 girls went out for the team. It was weeded out to 30 or so after a couple weeks. I was thrilled to be awarded that JV uniform. (all that dribbling paid off.) Though the school put their uniform order in so late, all they could get were silver. We called them the "silver bullets". It's ironic that teams like Kansas are wearing silver unis now. I think they're dorky.

Despite all my practice shooting at the neighbor's, I never became a good shooter. Recall this was in the days of 6 on 6 basketball - and I was a forward. But at only 5'6", and not all that quick, I was not great guard material. I did have a wicked hook shot. When Dale Allen explain how to do a pick and roll to us - it was so cool. I never knew basketball had actual plays before - it was like he'd invented it himself.

We chose the name Atlantic Trojanns over Lady Trojans or Trojanettes. Yes, it's dumb - but I still prefer it over the other two choices. I've never been an "ettes" fan. In the last couple years they started just using the name Trojans for boys and girls. We were terrible for the most part - playing catch up with other towns who had started their teams a few years before. But we had some exciting wins.

I'd like to say I was a big part of those - and perhaps I was. I cheered hard when we won in overtime my junior year at Red Oak. Cathy Hjortshoj made a shot for the victory. Sue Tyler and Sally Rodgers were other forwards on the team. The next year, Sally banked a shot in from long distance to beat our nemesis Clarinda on our home court. It was fun running onto the court and hugging everyone. Pammy played in the guard court - good thing Betty Heflin didn't see Chris Watson during hoops season, smoking those ciggies on her way out of the high school parking lot. She did during softball season...alas I believe Chris gave it later.

It was also really fun giving the youngsters crap on the bus - but not in a bullying kind of way. My little sis Betso acted as our manager one of the years. I still remember her - so skinny that she couldn't get pants long enough that would fit her.

My senior year, the school hired a real girl's basketball coach - Sharon Leslein. That was different after Dale Allen! I liked her a great deal, and she liked me - but that didn't increase my playing time at all. I would volunteer to ride with her to scout teams before playoff games. To this day I can't hear Aerosmith's Dream On without thinking of her - that song always came on while we drove to games for scouting. When she got married the summer after my freshman year of college, Sandy Larsen, Mona Jones and I were cake cutters at the wedding up in Edgewood, Iowa. I lost track of Sharon after she married Bruce and moved to Minnesota.

Kids don't have to be stars to be part of a team and to be "coached" up. The memories of those team years are worth all the sweat, shin splints and yes - even the dissatisfaction with lack of playing time.

Epiphany in the bathtub

No the Three Kings didn't come visit me in the tub. I'm talking about the other definition of the word - according to Webster "a sudden grasp of reality...usually striking and simple".

This happened way back before 1998, because I recall it was in my rose pink tub at our first house in Creston. That was my thinking refuge. The bathtub began to be my refuge when I gave birth to my first child. The tub was a place I could "get away" from everything - nursing bras, pads, a crying baby, the phone. It was all for me. I could think there.

This was about the year we moved to the new house. Paul must have been spending lots of time outside!
 

And just like thoughts that come to me when I'm driving, bathtub thoughts often come out of the blue. It's like they've been percolating in my subconscious, arriving fully formed from the depths of my gooey inner cortex. I told my friend Mary Faber about my epiphany in the tub - she said she was glad I didn't drown.

My inspiration was that I should start a desktop publishing business. Wordsmith Communications didn't happen until we got all situated in our new house out by Lake McKinley, and the kids were around 12 and 9 years old. But my business did become a reality - and actually made money! The cash was very helpful when it came to raising two kids. Athletic shoes for every sport don't pay for themselves...Paul was very supportive of my efforts. (and loved the income)

Newsletters were my forte. I helped our Catholic school with the Foundation newsletter a few times a year. Next I snagged a good gig from an offshoot of an ISU Extension program CHIPS (Cowherd Improvement Program). The beef experts would write articles and I would format them into a newsletter and apply labels and sort for mailing. Amy and Jud helped me.

The other newsletter I worked on was for the Iowa Society of Solid Waste Operations. As I got more involved with the trash world, I joined that organization and naturally slid into that job - great extra $! I kept it up until I took the job with the Department of Natural Resources. By then, I was emailing the newsletters - not mailing them. And newsletters were beginning to be an out-of-date method of communicating to stakeholders. They were looking for a more "quick hitter" article, not long pieces.

I wonder what's incubating inside my brain right now? Or yours. On behalf of my brain, my mouth (fingers, really) would like to say listen to your inner epiphanies. They're in there! Or that voice inside you that tells you a decision you made is wrong...listen to that too. You're smarter than you think - if you listen.

Movie Night - August in Osage County

I talked Pablo into going to the newest Meryl Streep movie last night. He's not a huge Julia Roberts fan so that wasn't a draw for him. He wants to see American Hustle - so I guess I'll need to go to that now that we saw my pick this weekend. There seem to be a lot of good movies out right now.

The movie was good - but not great. I read today that the screenplay was written from a successful play - and that was what it seemed like - a play. The acting, especially by Streep, was so good that it was almost too painful to watch. She plays a mean mother of three grown daughters. She is suffering from mouth cancer and is addicted to pills - any kind. Painkillers and downers seem to be her favorites. She's married to a washed-up alcoholic poet.

Only one of the sisters lives in Oklahoma near the parents. But the other two (including Pretty Woman, Julia) arrive when tragedy occurs. The interaction between the family members is so realistic. And ugly, and sad. Meryl chain smoked through the whole movie. F-bombs were dropped constantly. While some of the conversations were funny - in a sad way, the movie doesn't contain much humor.

If you want to see a "pick me up" movie - this isn't it. If you'd like to see Meryl act her ass off - go see this movie. There are some other good acting performances in this movie as well. I thought Julia was good - but I don't believe she has a great deal of range as an actress.

So far we have recently seen 3 movies. Nebraska, Saving Mr. Banks and this one. I would rank them in that order. Paul liked Mr. Banks the best - the one with Tom Hanks. It was about Walt Disney and the story behind the purchase of the rights from author P.L. Travers to make the movie Mary Poppins.

I did enjoy that movie. Emma Thompson was great as was Tom. I loved the back story of Emma's character - P.L.'s childhood. When I got home from the movie I had to look up more on the story. And watching that movie made me recall attending the Mary Poppins movie as a child. It came out in 1964 and we got dressed up and saw this in a big city theater I believe. I probably wore white bobbie socks with my dress - cute!

Odie is going to be alright

The vet called me at work Monday as I was heating up my leftovers for lunch (we cooked scallops Sunday night - yummy!). She gave me the good news - Odie's growth, removed from her chest last Thursday, isn't cancer! Yippy! The tumor was some long scientific name - cell growth from a trauma. And now it's been removed and she's feeling really good. Especially since I took the damn shirts off of her.

Pasta with scallops

Dr. Merk had told me to protect and support the stitches with a "onesie" baby outfit. So I rushed to Target and got her 3, Cyclone outfits of course. Plus some undershirts in case those didn't fit. I know - overprotective mamma. She hated them! And whined the whole time she had one on. It may have been because she was in pain - but as soon as I took them off - she was better. (She did look adorable - but she's a nudist at heart...). The stitches are set to come out Friday. Our little $700 medical excursion has had a good ending. Relief.

Thanks to all for those puppy prayers. As I was putting my hopes and prayers out there that she would be okay, I began to wonder...do we only get so many requests we may ask of the Big Guy? (or Higher Power - whatever you might call that being you pray to). Did I just use one of my "markers" up on a dog? Ah well - she's worth it!

I would have posted this earlier, but my Internet Explorer and blog software were not playing nicely. I ended up having to uninstall IE11. Google didn't like it.

Monday afternoon Paul and I took off early to drive to Atlantic to attend the visitation for Jody Henningsen. Despite the sad occasion it's always nice to see my wonderful friend Robyn. Her sis Karla was there and the Henningsen siblings too. My homegirls and I (Paula put herself in charge) went in on an arrangement with an angel and Roger Underwood sent one from the Class of 1976.

There was laughter and a few tears. I enjoyed hearing some of the Jody stories some of the other attendees shared - like the woman from Brinks flowers shop. She told about when Jody and Tom first moved into their home north of town - it was a cool place and had a huge great room that featured a fireplace in the middle. Jody stopped at Brinks and said "I want to decorate in red. And I want YOU and You to come help me. Be there tomorrow and bring That and That and That." When they got to the house the next day, Jody put them to work. She also made them lunch and slipped them bottles of booze and cash as they left. I bet lunch was really good - she was a fab cook!

Rob told me Tom Henningsen's brother Denny also just passed away - so the fam is headed to Clear Lake tomorrow for that funeral. At least the weather is warming up a bit for that drive and event. Robyn says that even though her mom is gone, she'll still visit Atlantic every year. It will be different though. I'm glad she's so close to the Henningsens. Mike still throws a big party for the 4th of July every year at his hangar at the airport.

Last night we enjoyed a great basketball game - #9 ISU beat #7 Baylor in Ames. Our team just keeps finding ways to win. They're fun to watch!

Today I had a work meeting at the Kum and Go (I know...awful name) Corporate office - in the Hawkeye room, of all places. The Krause family members are big Hawk fans and I appreciate their support of their team. I thought about how my parents would have gotten a kick out of seeing the memorabilia in the room. I liked the photo on the wall featuring all the assistant coaches who went on to be head coaches. Shelly picked up lunch from Palmers Deli for all of us - I got a turkey sannie with a slice of granny smith - delish! Some unknown person bought our whole group. Pay it forward...I'm looking for my opportunity!

After work, I went to my YMCA for orientation on the weight equipment. Yep - I finally settled into the Y long enough to be comfortable enough to do that. (I'm a slow adapter when it comes to things that involve other people). Eric was very nice - and a young woman shadowed us too. He showed me how to use each piece of the equipment. Most was similar to the Creston equipment - but there were a few different pieces.

I asked about a workout routine - and Eric asked if I wanted to get set up in the ActivTrax program. Sure! I didn't realize that meant I had to do a workout. I'll be sore as hell tomorrow. I did 35 crunches in 1 minutes ya'll. AND didn't wet my pants. That was an accomplishment! The one I really struggled with was a shoulder press - not surprising with my frozen shoulder issues. Hey - that's why I'm doing this.

After my workout I ran to HyVee to pick up supper and some Allegra - isn't winter supposed to be when my nose isn't plugged up? I ran into Meg Gammell Jackson in the college paraphernalia aisle. She and Mark and 3 kids live in Grimes right across from sister Kate (due to have baby #2 on the 20th) and her husband. She said her folks were in the deli. Fun to see some familiar faces at the store again!

Crestonians - Eldon, Marg, their son-in-law and grandkids

I talked them into to posing for a blog pic.

It's been a busy week - and it's "Guess what day it is?"

Tomorrow Pablo and I are giving blood. So it should be a quiet night. I hope your week is going well!

It's Easy As

ABC - it's Easy as 1,2,3. Beyoncé released an album recently without any fanfare - all the songs all at once. She didn't piece it out one song at a time like artists usually do nowadays. She said she wanted to do it the old fashioned way - recalling the excitement of when artists she loved as a kid released new albums. They were probably CDs as young as she is.

Not for me! I grew up back in the day. My first recollection of a music purchase was a day when Laurie Reinertson and I were going to walk downtown to do our usual Saturday shopping. I must have been 9 years old We'd frequent Bonneson's (it was across the street from where it is now) to purchase candy. Pixie Stix, purple bubble gum, giant Sweet Tarts, wax pop bottles. They had all the good candy. Even my favorite - fresh malted milk balls in the candy case. It's surprising I didn't turn diabetic right there...

We'd also hit Woolworth's. I loved looking at the fish and drooled over the hamsters there - so cute! Why wouldn't my mother let me get one? (as a kid I couldn't understand it...as an adult, I totally get why one would not wish to have a rodent-like creature living under one's roof). We'd check out the toys and gadgets at those stores and Ben Franklin too.

On this particular occasion, my oldest sis, Susi, asked me to walk one more block down the street to purchase a "45" for her at Meyer Music. It was 98.6, by the singer Keith. It would cost something like $1 and she would give me an extra $.X for my trouble (I don't remember the amount). Like any bratty little sis, I said no. Laurie was standing right there during the offer. And she was up to make some $. So she agreed to get the record. Joke was on me - I still had to be in on the purchase but didn't get the money. Hmmm.

After stopping at Ben Franklin, we walked the next block north to Meyer Music. Art Meyer owned it - a tony gig since he was also the High School band teacher. He got to sell and rent instruments to students that he then coached in band. "You don't want that cut-rate tuba do you Johnny? You might become first chair if you get this better model." hehe. $$. None of the Bullocks were in band (oops, Bets just reminded me was a flute player. My memory isn't always quite so sharp) so I don't really know how it worked - I'm sure he was more than fair. He probably just wanted students to be in band because he loved it.

Along with instruments and sheet music, Meyer Music featured singles and albums - back before Atlantic had WalMart or any predecessors. I remember scouring the wall for the record I wanted. The clerk helped Laurie and me find the single for Susi. I don't know what was on the "flip" side of the single. That was the song the artist would put on the other side of the popular song - when you purchased a "single" you really got 2 songs. As you can tell, I'm really still mad at myself for not taking Susi up on her offer...

A few years later music started to become important to me. My Dad and older sisters definitely affected my musical taste. Dad liked to listen to Herb Alpert and the Ray Coniff Singers. He had one of the first stereo systems in Atlantic. Mom freaked out when my pal Robyn and I were messing with the electric toothbrush and overfilled the sink - which dripped on the stereo. Oops.

My sisters listened to the Beatles, Rare Earth, Young Rascals, Cream - and many others. In junior high I started to develop my own music identity - I got my very first album!

And I got a great birthday present - a portable record player. It didn't look quite like this one. We got it at Best Western. Everyone knows that was the place to go for electronics! I kept it under my bed and would listen to the Michael Jackson Album every night. Good thing my roomie, Betso didn't mind.

My was brown and had a snap on lid

I shared a bedroom with Betso (pay no attention to the Iowa pennant behind me...)

 

The great thing about albums was the artwork inserted containing lyrics. With every album I purchased, I spent hours pouring over the lyrics of each - memorizing them. I learned the names of band members and tried to decided which one was my favorite. Elton John was another artist I counted down the days awaiting new records from. Some albums even came with posters and other inserts for fans. This couldn't ever be done once cassette tapes and CDs came into being.

When Beyoncé mentioned that she remembered worshipping her Michael Jackson CDs and wanted to provide that experience when she put out her new album - I applaud her! This generation should experience the joy of getting to know their music more intimately than just hearing it. Then someday they may blog (or what ever they call it then) about.

2014 Preview

The new year is ticking away. It's already Day 4.

Odie's January 2nd surgery is in the rearview mirror, thank goodness. She had a tumor near her right armpit (do dogs have armpits?). I first noticed it the Sunday after Thanksgiving when she was sitting on my lap - lumpy. The vet wanted to remove it right away but we delayed until after our Christmas trip.

I dropped Odie off at Ashworth Road Vet Clinic just after 8 a.m. that day. Dr. Jessica Merk called me late that morning to say she was in recovery and trading yips with her cellmate. Dr. Merk thought the tumor was smaller than when she first felt it 3 weeks ago - good! She was able to remove it all and didn't see any signs of other tumors. Paws crossed that the biopsy turns out good. Today she's feeling very good - the doc had told me to keep her in a "onesie". Though it looked cute, I think it just rubbed the stitches.

Paul and I don't have much planned in the next couple cold Ioway months besides watching some good basketball. We have season tickets to ISU Men's basketball - 30 minutes north of here. The team is playing well so far. The winter of 2013/14 has really been winter like. Damn Iowa. Brutal cold is projected for the next few days. Hunker down time.

Jud plans to come back for a game - around his January 30th birthday. He'll be 25 ya'll. It's just not possible - because I'm only 40! haha

In my spare time I'll plug away on genealogy stuff and go to the YMCA. I love the pool. I signed up for a WordPress class - 2 nights at the end of February. I may switch my blog over to that software. I could do my own website too.

Paul and Judson are buying Big 12 tournament tickets. They're very expensive so I didn't get one - probably a mistake. I just can't part with that much money. It's in Kansas City - Jud's stompin' grounds in mid March. Not long after that we'll be getting jacked up for our annual Marco Island, FL trip. This year will include a special trip to Key West for Cindy's 60th birthday. ROAD TRIP! Should be fun. I'm thinking pub crawl...but at our ages, we'd probably make 2 pubs...I hope the gators don't get us.

In May we will make our annual Memorial Day trek to Colorado. Cindo says she'd like to come down to the big city (Denver). I'd also like to go to Susi's house in Grand Junction sometime too -we've not seen the home they moved to last year. We'll get to see all the usuals including our baby girl.

About our girl. She quit her job Friday. After working at a design firm for a few months, she decided that type of work is what she enjoys doing - but not at that firm. The owner wanted her to sign an all encompassing non-compete contract. Her attorney friend advised her against it. So did her parents. That document would have blocked her from freelance and working in the industry for 2 years. After talking it over we encouraged her to give her dream of starting her own design/other stuff business a chance. A couple of my high school classmates started their own biz - and it worked out pretty well. Of course they worked their asses off, made some right moves and probably had some luck along the way. Fingers crossed (and sweat equity) she does too.

So Amy is starting a whole new endeavor - her own graphic design (and other stuff like writing etc.) firm. It's so exciting! She plans to specialize in things like marketing materials, branding and labels - the types of things she's been doing for the past 3 years. But she won't limit herself as she'll need all the business she can get. She loves doing wedding and other party invites and my favorite part is she knows how to do them in a "low waste" manner, utilizing only one sheet of paper. They're cheaper to mail that way too. She's able to insert the map and other information if the couple wants that too.

So if you know anyone looking for a logo, t-shirt design, brochure, baby announcements, billboard, or food label - Amy Goldsmith Design (or some new cool name) is your company. She is going to spend some time getting her company set up and putting marketing stuff together etc. Right away she'll be working on lining up a part time job to help support herself during this start up time. Go kiddo - pursue your dreams!

One of our few times kayaking 2013 - Red Rock, near Pella

Back to us. Paul and I would like to get more kayaking in this coming summer. Last summer's strange weather precluded much paddling. Perhaps my pal Deb and I can take a trip in - and really get onto a river this year. Last summer the raging river was too fast to paddle on the Root near Lanesboro. I'd like to bike more too - there are so many great trails around here - besides the immediate DSM area, just north there are many to explore. My bike Albie and I need to hit the road.

We're heading west to Cannon Beach, OR to see my sisters July 5th. I'm not sure if the kids will make it. The Kohans (Betso's fam) go there every year, but we've been trying to get there every other year. I hope to see niece Leslie and grand neph James who will be one year old by then. We love that area and seeing our fam - no matter who shows up. My cousin Leslie and husband Bob hail from Portland, and perhaps more cousins will join us?! Chowder, beach walks, Tilamook, beer - the place has it all!

We're kicking around a train trip - Osceola to Chicago. And hope to be invited to Lake of the Ozarks. Football season will come around again. I hope for a better season. We are working to upgrade our new tailgating system - post McKim RV. Will I get together with my high school homies? We didn't discuss a location. I'd love to have them visit DSM.

Our routines of lives don't look to change a whole lot though. My vacation time will be used by my trips already planned. People probably wonder - don't we get tired of doing the same things over and over. I guess the answer is no. I'm a creature of habit. I like to relax on vaca. When I retire I'll be ready to explore.

With each passing year I find that I take more pleasure in the little things. Hanging with old friends - they know my stuff. Meeting new ones and hearing their stories - sharing mine. A warm puppy snoring by my side in my chair. Finding a clue and adding information about a relative to my genealogy data. Getting to know our children as adults - how did they do that? Grow up from the little people they were to become these interesting people they are now?

Volunteer opportunities. I would like to find more ways to give back (I know - sounds hokie, doesn't it?). It's not as easy as it sounds though. Many times just finding the thing you can do that fits your schedule and actually helps someone/thing is the hardest part. There is much that needs to be done. I challenge you to do the same. Every little thing helps. I'd also like to remember to "pay it forward" - and do little things to make peoples' weeks better. Pay for the coffee of the next person in line, buy lunch for the couple in the next booth.

Bring it on 2014. With the love and support of my family and friends, and the grace of the higher power I'm ready.