Morning Interruption

A few minutes ago Lance came walking into my office to ask if I heard the fire alarm ringing in the hallway. To be truthful, I was focused in on my work project and, although I heard a buzzing in the background, I thought it was a power drill or a vacuum and didn’t pay any attention to it. Later I told Lance, “Thank you for potentially saving my life.” Can’t you just see me, being the Space Cadet that I am, sitting at my desk with flames engulfing the building around me, totally unaware of it all? Scary, eh?

Soon we were descending the staircase, along with all the other building occupants, unsure if the ringing in our ears was the result of a drill or the real thing.

Most of the people who work in my building are part of the radical left-wing conspiracy. As I stood on the sidewalk outside our building, I instantly identified the Sierra Club folks. It wasn’t hard. All I had to do was look for the Birkenstocks. (Would a serious environmentalist dare wear anything else?) One of them had a green shirt with a peace symbol. Another guy had a tan shirt with a forest of chopped-down trees that said, “Once you’ve killed them, they’ll never live again.” Very astute observation, I thought to myself. Typically when you kill something, it never comes back to life. Astounding logic. Very deep, too.

Soon the entire Sacramento County fire department showed up (or so it seemed). We were all rather impressed at their speedy service. At this point we still thought all of the hullabaloo was a routine drill. Later we found out that, actually, it was a false alarm.

Fortunately, during the wait, Lance kept us all entertained with his jokes and witticisms. He relayed some interesting facts about the great Chicago Fire and how Chicago’s state-of-the-art water pump (used expressly to combat fires) was, if you can believe it, made out of flammable materials and burned down instantly! Hmmm . . .

Night at the Opera

Okay, it was better than I anticipated. It’s definitely not the type of thing I’d want to do every Friday night but, in another couple of years, I might even want to go to another one. I’m all about being a well-rounded person, capable of enjoying numerous things. So, let me just say that opera is a nice thing to throw in the mix every once in a while. The entire night was definitely worth it when Leporello sang “Madamina.” (The song Kevin sings.)

We went to the opera with Justin and Michelle. Kevin knows Justin from the choral society. He and Kevin hit it off when they started talking about landscaping projects a few weeks ago. Justin then invited Kevin to come see Don Giovanni. Kevin told me that he thought about my mantra (accepting the precious “gift of friendship” when someone offers it to you) and decided it would be cool to develop a friendship with Justin.

I hadn’t met Justin until last night. Neither of us had met Michelle. In fact, Justin had just met Michelle on Sunday and this was their first date together. We met at Justin’s house before the show and carpooled together. Both of them are very nice. Justin is the 7th of 10 kids. We didn’t get a chance to ask much about his family but hopefully we’ll get a chance in the future. We don’t know if either of them are Christians. It was a little bit weird to be part of their first date. Especially since neither of us played the dating game; we were good friends before we became “an item.” Before we left Justin’s house, he took the four of us’ picture together, with his camera on a timer. Later we joked, “He probably just wanted Michelle’s picture and we were there to make it convenient.” ;-) In the car, on the way home, we both agreed that it’s nice that we’ve moved beyond that “best foot forward; trying-to-impress-you” stage. We couldn’t help but contrast our four-year relationship (marked by a myriad of trials and joys) with Justin and Michelle’s three-day relationship. This made me contemplate what it will be like after decades together. My dad tells me that your thought processes begin to meld and decision-making gets easier. I’m sure that’s not always true in relationships, but if that’s what generally happens, it's awesome to think about. The best is yet to come.

What is opera?

“Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings.” -Ed Gardner

Tonight we’re going to the opera. Kevin has been trying to immerse me in this type of culture for a long time. Until today, I’ve successfully resisted. I only agreed to go when I discovered that there will be subtitles so I can actually understand what all the fuss is about. The only thing that concerns me is that I will actually enjoy myself. If that happens, it will be more difficult to poke fun at it in the future. And that would be a bummer.

Tonight we will see Don Giovanni. I already have one of the songs memorized – in Italian – because Kevin sings it constantly. Should be interesting . . .

Yet another reason to smile . . .

I’ve been smiling all day because yesterday I got out my fall clothes and today the weather permits me to wear a sweater all day long. I love sweaters because they are beautiful, comfortable, cozy, warm, and best of all they are wrinkle-free. Today Kevin told me “Don’t stay in the ‘fall mood’ because it’s supposed to heat up later this week.” All I can say is . . . I’m sure going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Yesterday we had a terrific thunder and lightning storm, including tons of hail. It all happened very suddenly. Kevin was overjoyed when the clouds rolled in. He says he’s not sure he likes the 200 days of consecutive sunshine in California every year. To put it in his own words, “They can’t expect me to be that happy so many days straight in a row.”

I had to drop Kevin off at the state university for his chorale rehearsal after church yesterday. When I went to pick him up, all the roads were blocked off because of the flooding. It was incredible to me how much rain we got so quickly. Basically, it hasn’t rained a single drop since April and then it rained dogs and cats in a period of about an hour. Craziness!

Although I love each part of the process, I love the aftermath of rain most of all. The air is so clean. The cloudy sky, with the sun poking through, is gorgeous. The grass seems greener (even if it’s not). And the street glistens with the dampness. It’s all so very enchanting.

When Dreams Become Reality

On Saturday we met with about 25 of our old law school friends at the Hilton in Sacramento to start a new alumni association. We are very excited about the prospects of this endeavor. Kevin was elected president and eight other dedicated alumni were also selected to be on the board. Those who desire to help get this thing off the ground and promote its goals have our work cut out for us. It’s encouraging to see the interest and wholehearted commitment of so many people to make this happen.

In addition to the excitement of starting a new venture, it was fantastic to see so many old friends this weekend. Several of them flew in from out of state. We were able to host a Friday night mixer and a barbecue on Saturday at our house. It was so much fun to have people over. Although, I must confess, there were several times when I wanted to pull out my hair while getting ready for it. And, I bought way too much food. We’re going to be eating pasta salad for months! (To make matters worse, Kevin just told me he doesn’t really like pasta salad to begin with. I wish I’d known that when I planned the menu. But oh well. We’re going to have to throw another party to get rid of all this food!)

It’s amazing how tight-knit the Oak Brook students are, despite the fact that the school is primarily a distance-learning program. I think it just goes to show that when people who are likeminded meet each other and go through a rigorous time of life together, they are friends for life.

Strawberry Strife

I just got back from buying approximately 10 million strawberries for this weekend at the farmer’s market. I had a tough time finding a parking spot at the crowded downtown plaza. Finally I found one but then discovered I didn’t have any quarters. I located the nearest vendor to my car, raced to her stand, grabbed the nearest piece of fruit I could find (a peach for forty cents) and then raced back to my car with the two precious quarters. I barely made it before a parking-policeman drove by. Whew – that was a close one. (The parking enforcement is brutal in Sacramento.) After I deposited my quarters in the parking meter, I noticed a sign that read “No parking Wednesdays 6 AM to 3 PM without a permit.” This just isn’t my lucky day, I suppose. (You’d think I’d read all of the obvious signs before parking somewhere, wouldn’t you? Leave it to me . . . ) After a few moments wondering what to do, I decided I would just risk a ticket (after all, the parking-policeman had just passed and probably wouldn’t be back for at least five minutes). I rushed to the opposite end of the plaza to find the strawberry stand, loaded up (don’t ask me how on earth I made it back to my car so quickly with that heavy load) and was soon on my merry way. To my utter jubilation, my windshield was ticket-free. Praise the Lord. Sigh . . . life can be so complicated at times.
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Last night we (finally) bought a lawnmower at Lowe's. Kevin was thinking seriously about getting one of those little push mowers. I thought that was funny, for some reason. But he didn't understand why. I had a grand time testing out those huge riding lawnmowers while he was looking at all the other mowers. "Kevin," I suggested, "Why don't we just break down and buy one of these? That way it will only take us two or three seconds to mow our lawn." Kevin didn't say anything to that. He just rolled his eyes. (Do you think that's an indication he thinks I'm crazy? Probably.) Later on I told Kevin that maybe we shouldn't get a riding lawnmower after all. "Our neighbors would think we're freaks." But I still think it'd be FUN.

Bumper Space

I remember reading an article a few months ago about having “bumper space” in your life. Basically, the article said that in order to enjoy life we need space between activities. Since I’m the queen of cramming everything in at once, I was pretty skeptical about this whole idea. But now, the more that I think about it, the more I realize it’s true. Lately it seems like we’ve been rushing around at 90 miles per hour, without taking time to pause and think, spend quality time together, or rest. This has gotta stop. The fatigue is starting to set in. I think we’ve been too ambitious with our house projects. I think we’re going to have to leave well enough alone for now. There are still a lot of things we need to do . . . but if we keep up this same pace, we won’t live to enjoy them.

My wonderful boss just gave me some extra time off work to do some grocery shopping for this weekend’s BBQ at our house (for the new OBCL alumni association). That gracious act, alone, has taken a load off my shoulders. Now the only thing to do is to find a bunch of folding chairs for everyone to sit on – or else we’re going to be one big happy family eating on the floor together. ;-)

Bleach, Radio, Paint . . . and Mark

Well, I just bleached one of Kevin’s dress socks. (It was accidentally tossed in with a load of whites.) It used to be a tan color. Now it’s a creamy orange color. I’m not sure how he’ll react. Hopefully he won’t be too mad. Maybe I can convince him that it will be fun to break away from the mores and doldrums of professional standards and wear a creamy orange sock on one foot and a tan sock on the other. Hmmm. I won’t hold my breath on that one.

On Friday night I did a radio interview on hate crimes legislation. Since I had just conducted a bunch of research on the topic, I felt fairly well-informed. When I know what I’m talking about, I really enjoy radio. It’s those times when I just pretend that I know what I’m talking about that gets really interesting, to say the least. I was supposed to be on air at 5:20. So, I rushed home, started dinner, and then began the interview. During commercial breaks, I continued chopping the onions, measuring the ingredients, and setting the table. It was quite comical. You should have seen it. There I was, barefoot in the kitchen, fixing food and debating hate crimes legislation. Ha!

On Saturday, we finally finished painting all of the first floor of our house. We (especially Kevin) were really dreading painting the living room because it has a few tricky angles and a 20-foot ceiling. Things got rather precarious at times. Kevin risked his life on more than one occasion. The scariest part was when he perched his wobbly ladder up against a beam that stretched from one side of the ceiling to the other side. In days of old, knights slew dragons for their fair maidens. In this modern age, they paint tall ceilings. Both feats are definite acts of heroism.

After painting for 12 hours straight yesterday, we were finally done. Yay! Things look so much cleaner and fresher now. Amy is very happy about this.

Our good friend Mark Bigger came over on Saturday night, at around 10 PM, to work with Kevin on the bylaws for our law school’s new alumni association. I have to hand it to him – he’s a very dedicated person – he drove all the way up from Fresno to do this. And, believe it or not, he was thinking about driving back that a very same night. Only a carefree bachelor would ever think of doing something like that. And if I’ve ever met a carefree bachelor in my life, Mark fits the description.

Well, I think that’s all the news. So, for now, I will say “adieu.”

The News We Girls Have Been Waiting For

Theory: Men also suffer from PMS. (Apparently there's also a Male Menopause theory!)

Thankfully there are female doctors in this world who bring these kinds of discoveries to light. ;-)

I Give Up!

So, yesterday it was Kevin’s turn to go to the dentist. Before going, he had to fill out a questionnaire asking how often he flosses his teeth. Peeking over his shoulder, as he was filling it out the other night, I told him, “Don’t lie.” In other words, tell them how scarcely little you floss your teeth and how you only do it when your wife sends you venomous vibes and death threats and tells you that she wants your grandchildren to see your beautiful smile and you’d better floss NOW!

So, he put down “three times a week.” (And, that’s about how often I can talk him into flossing.) I must give him credit; he was truthful.

I must confess . . . I was looking forward to him going to the dentist so he could have a professional person reprimand him for his horrible flossing habits. “Maybe,” I rationalized, “I won’t have to remind him so often now.”

After his appointment, he called to tell me he didn’t have any cavities. He told me that his dentist said, “If all my patients had teeth like yours, I’d be bankrupt.” And, apparently (this is the worst), Kevin’s hygienist complimented him on his “brushing and flossing routine.”

"What?!" I probably screamed into the phone. "How can this possibly be?!"

ARGH!! I am so FRUSTRATED. I TOTALLY GIVE UP. Go ahead and don’t floss EVER AGAIN, Kevin. See if I CARE!!!!!

[His dentist must be a crock.]

Thoughts on Art

Right now I’m studying art history – just for the heck of it. It’s been fun (what little I’ve studied so far). The current book I’m reading was written by a former director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s really nice to be able to study something I’m interested in for a change. The problem with a formal education is that you often have to study things you’re totally NOT interested in. But, of course, that’s a good thing because it makes you a more well-balanced person. Having said all that, I still maintain that it’s much more fun to study something I want to study. Kevin knows a lot more about art history than I do. (He tends to know a lot more about most things than I do. Yesterday I went to the farmer’s market with a few girlfriends. We were admiring all the pretty flowers and I was thinking to myself how Kevin probably knows the names of most of them but I probably could only name two or three! This is very sad, I know.) I remember the first time we visited the National Gallery of Art in D.C. (Check out their website – they have a really cool “web tour of the week.”) It was fabulous. Kevin really helped to open a whole new world of art for me. He challenged me to “see” art differently than I had before. The author of this textbook I’m reading defines art as “when anyone in the world takes any kind of material and fashions it into a deliberate statement.” Although that’s a very broad definition, the author challenges his readers as to why the definition of art should not be broad. When I think about it, though, this definition is kind of scary. I mean, this definition of “art” would include all the hokey homemade items in all the craft-fairs in the nation! (You know what I’m talking about? Those places where they glue clothespins together, spray-paint it purple (with some cutesy saying), and then sell it for $15.00? The worst part about it all is that there’s actually a market for this type of “art”!) But, then again, just because it’s technically art doesn’t mean it’s good art. Kevin’s mom gave me a great little book called The Hidden Art of Homemaking by Edith Schaeffer. The premise is that practically everything we do can be considered art. After all, in line with the above definition of art, what we do is the ultimate “statement” of who we are and what we want to portray. Another reason I liked this book is that it reminds us not to forget the “little stuff” in life. The details of life can be a beautiful “art” with very little effort. And, in the end, isn’t it the little, every-day things that will enrich our lives the most, if we enable it?

On the Homefront

Rarely do I ever write letters to corporate management complimenting their remarkable customer service. That’s because rarely do I see exemplary service. But today I was compelled to write a letter to Lowe’s of Roseville (the new town we live in) commending their employees. They are awesome! I won’t bore you with all the details but yesterday we had quite an ordeal trying to buy a blasted grill (how hard can it be, right?). Despite all the brouhaha, we were very impressed by the service that was rendered. Maybe it’s because this particular Lowe’s is right next door to a Home Depot. Good ol’ Adam Smith was right – when two enterprises compete, the consumer wins! Plus, I remember how hard it is to work retail. You stand on your feet all day, working your tush off, dealing with an ungrateful public. And, to make matters worse, you get paid peanuts! So, I thought it would be very nice to write a letter to encourage the spirits of a few weary and heavy-laden Lowe’s employees. (Now that I think about it . . . It would’ve been really nice if some thankful customer had written to Starbucks telling them, “That Amy girl, she’s a keeper. She makes the best nonfat lattes ever.” But it never happened. Oh well. I’m not bitter.) ____________________________ We love our new neighborhood. Next door, there are these two little boys who are very cute and very friendly. One of them, Nick, stopped riding his bike and came to talk to us on Friday night, as we sat in the front yard pulling weeds from the landscaping. (It was very enjoyable to sit in the cool of the evening and dig our hands into the dirt. Very rewarding, I must confess.) Nick gave us the scoop on the neighborhood. During our conversation, a black and white cat, named Sylvester, walked over and started cozying up next to me. Nick’s family feeds Sylvester but, according to our young new friend, “he’s the neighborhood cat.” Apparently, Sylvester particularly enjoys lying in the shade of our front yard. So it seems that I’ll get many more opportunities to become acquainted with him. Nick told us that he has a lot of friends in our neighborhood. “I’m sorry we don’t have a little kid for you to play with,” said Kevin. “That’s okay. I don’t need any more friends,” he replied. Nick’s younger brother, Taylor, offered to mow our lawn for us on Saturday. Since we don’t have a lawnmower yet, we took him up on this. He missed a few patches of grass but, hey, we’ll give him a break. After all, he’s only eight years old – and it was very nice of him to offer. (Although, I think his mom made him do it. His mom has a large Bush-Cheney sign painted to her car’s rear window. So, I’ve already decided that she’s a wonderful person.) ;-) I think this is the first time we’ve spent a three-day holiday weekend at home in years. Although we worked non-stop (and got a lot done), it was kinda nice to just “be home.”

Shopping Amusements

Last night we went to WalMart and I piled the cart high with items we need for our house. I left the cart in an arbitrary aisle while Kevin and I wandered around to look at more stuff. Pretty soon, after retrieving our cart, we were on our way to another department. After several minutes, Kevin looks down in the cart and sees a large red pillow. “Amy, what’s this?!” (He probably was mad to think I was buying something frivolous with our money.) I didn’t recognize the pillow at all. In fact, I didn’t recognize any of the items in the cart. We both started howling when we realized we had stolen someone else’s cart and walked away with it. We had no idea where the cart came from so we just stuck it in a random aisle and went off to retrieve our own cart. We also went grocery shopping last night. I love it when Kevin goes grocery shopping with me because it gets done in half the time. Usually I run around trying to find all the “normal” food items and then I ask him to find all the unusual items for the crazy new recipes I’m experimenting with. This time around, I happened to need “liquid smoke.” It took us a while, but we finally found it. Last time we went grocery shopping together, there was a “Regional Bagger Contest” going on at the store. No kidding! There were hundreds of people, from as far away as Fresno, packed into stands set-up in the grocery store. They were all screaming and rooting for their “favorite bagger.” Baggers were judged based on quickness, neatness, and overall skill. In between bagger races, the managers of the stores had to compete, doing things like seeing how many gummy worms they could eat in one minute, etc. It was all very entertaining. _____________________ Hey - have a happy three-day weekend! As you’re off doing whatever fun thing you’re going to do, think fondly of us . . . as we’re perspiring and slaving away at the house. ;-)

Why I Said "No"

The GOP convention is in full swing right now. Our beloved body-building governor spoke last night. Did you hear him? I don’t much care for his positions on social issues, but he’s got a great persona. Believe it or not, I was offered an all-expenses-paid opportunity to go to the convention. Initially, I accepted the invitation. I even faxed my social security number to the California Delegation. But in the end, I decided not to go. I’m sure a lot of people think I’m crazy for not accepting this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My boss had to pull a lot of strings and connections to get me an invitation. If I had gone, I know I would’ve enjoyed myself. Just “being there” would’ve been great. I love NYC and I love GWB. Plus, I would’ve had tickets to get into all sorts of interesting events. But I decided not to go mostly because it conflicted with our move and I thought it would be a strain on my family (e.g., Kevin). I felt like getting our first home is a landmark time in our life and I didn’t want to put all the pressure of moving on Kev. (And considering what a pain it was to clean and move, I’m sure glad I didn’t dump it all on him!) This is going to sound really sappy but, if I had gone to NY, I would have just pined away for Kevin the whole time – even after two years of marriage! It’s funny because a few short years ago I would’ve jumped at the chance to go to the GOP national convention and I would’ve made whatever sacrifices necessary to get there. But things are different now. I’m in a more “content” phase of life. My priorities have changed. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to travel, get an education, do exciting things. Although I will never lack having my own aspirations for the future, I’ve got a lot of my ambition worked out of my system – for the first time in my life! (I’ve never wanted to look back on my life and regret not seizing opportunities.) And you know what? It’s kinda nice to be here, where I am. I love it.

How do you see the world?

"We do not see the world as it is; we see it as we are." -Anon.

This is something I've been thinking about lately. Although things may seem "clear" to us, they may not be as they seem because we each have our own little filters by which we process information. I think maturity comes when we are able to see things from different perspectives.

Tired, Annoyed and Happy

We got the keys to our house on Thursday. Finally! When we entered the house, we were instantly overwhelmed. The seller, unfortunately, has a very different definition of “clean and habitable” than we do. We spent at least nine hours cleaning on Thursday and Friday. It was so horrible; I can’t even begin to tell you how bad it was. I know it’s not a very Christian thing to say but I really wanted to strangle the lady for leaving the place such a mess. I was really vexed and agitated. I was especially annoyed with the filthy aftermath left by her dogs. While taking a break after cleaning upstairs, I laid down on the carpet. When I got up, there were jillions of dog hairs clinging to my clothes (did this lady ever vacuum?!). All the kitchen cupboards had food crumbs and sticky residue inside. I won’t even begin to tell you how bad the refrigerator was. I spent two hours cleaning the refrigerator. Some of the mess wouldn’t come off with soap and hot water so I had to use bleach! The walls and all the downstairs windows were filthy from dog dirt and dog slobber. Basically, what I’m trying to convey to you is, I am now more anti-dog than ever before!! Kevin remarked that hating dogs is biblical. (I realize I am going to really offend some of you dog-lovers by saying this. But, at this point, I’m so tired that I don’t care.) Every time dogs are mentioned in scripture, it’s with a negative connotation. So, presumptively, God must think that dogs are evil too. Several friends came over on Saturday to help us move our furniture and heavy boxes. We were really grateful for the help. Now that we’re officially “in” our house, our minds have been racing with all of the home improvements we want to accomplish. Some of them are things we “need” to do. Most of them are things we “want” to do. Last night we sat down and wrote a long list of things to work on. It will be exciting to cross things off the list. Kevin (looking at our backyard): “Amy, this is our dirt! Can you believe it?! I could go out there right now and dig a hole – and no one would care.” Amy: “No one would care about the hole except for ME.” Kevin: “That’s true.” Now that our house is actually clean, I think we’re going to really enjoy being homeowners!

The Frailty of Life

“There is one thing I’ve learned about life. It is frail.” - Billy Graham

Last week I went in to see my dentist for an initial consultation. He was a cheerful man, probably in his early forties, with gleaming eyes and a big smile. I liked him a lot. I had another appt. for tomorrow to get my teeth cleaned but his receptionist called me over the weekend and canceled my appt. because of a “family emergency.” Last night I was talking to Kevin about this abrupt cancellation. Kevin suggested that maybe my dentist had died suddenly. Well, today his receptionist called me back and said that I could come in tomorrow anyway because the hygienist would be there. She asked me if I heard about what happened. When I replied that I hadn’t, she said that Dr. Swen had died suddenly. They think it was a heart attack. (Kevin has better intuition than I thought!) Although I didn’t know my dentist very well, it’s still hard to take. The other day he was so alive and full of vigor. Now he’s gone.

This incident has caused me to think about where I place my trust. Do I trust in man or in God? Even the most steadfast, consistent human being can never be relied on – because life is so temporal. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I rely way too much on Kevin for my happiness. Although God wants me to enjoy my relationship with Kevin, I don’t think God wants Kevin to be the sole source of my joy and security. God wants “all my springs of joy” to be in Him. God wants me to trust in Him and be content with whatever lies ahead. May I learn to say with the Psalmist, “There is none on earth I desire besides You.” Although we may desire other things (e.g., lasting relationships with another human being, etc.) may all those desires be considered as nothing when compared to our desire and longing for God.

"Om"

Before Kevin and I were “together” a friend gave me some really strong perfume called Om by Gap. (I don’t know why I started wearing it because, actually, it doesn’t even smell good.) Whenever I would walk by Kevin’s office at HSLDA, on my way to the photocopy machine, he would smell this very distinct perfume (Kevin has very well-functioning olfactory glands) and call out “Om.” And, of course, I would always stop at his door, amazed that he could smell Om from such a distance. It became an inside joke after a while. Well, last night we discovered the remains of my Om perfume bottle, buried at the bottom of a cosmetics box, as we were packing. I put some on for old time’s sake. This morning Kevin could still smell traces of it on my wrist. “It’s amazing how something like an old, familiar smell can bring back so many memories,” he remarked. How very true that is.

Signing Our Lives Away

Today we said goodbye to our debt-free lifestyle and signed our lives away. [Gulp.] Everybody we’d talked to who had gone through the experience said they were amazed by how many documents they had to sign to get a loan. We were envisioning a desk piled high with paperwork. But, honestly, it wasn’t that bad. We were done signing within the hour. After leaving the title company this morning, I went to the state GOP headquarters and got myself a Bush Cheney ’04 bumper sticker. I got one for Kevin too. He doesn’t like bumper stickers but I think he’ll put this one on his car for the good cause. I really wanted the bumper sticker that says “‘W’ stands for Women” but they were out. Any little thing I can do to tick-off the neo-feminists makes me happy. ;-) Seriously though, I hate it when people say the GOP party doesn't represent women. I think it represents me just fine. And now I have a bumper sticker to send that message. It's a war out there on those roads.

Lawbreaking and Note-taking

After a certain experience this past weekend, I can better understand why some people commit crimes. There’s a certain rush involved. Not that lawbreaking activities should ever be justified (lawbreaking is bad, bad, bad!)– it’s just that I can now comprehend why it’s attractive to some people. It’s the thrill of doing something prohibited and not being caught.

Before your mind starts to wander too far . . . I will quickly say that all we did was hop in the back of a truck to ride three blocks to someone’s house from a park. It was dark and, in the spirit of self-preservation, we didn’t want to walk in this neighborhood for three blocks late at night. On the way there, a police car pulled up behind us. It followed us for two turns. We all quickly ducked down in the bed of the truck, sure that he was going to pull us over. We knew we’d have a lot of explaining to do and wanted to avoid an encounter. I felt like an illegal alien sneaking across the border or something. There were a few tense moments. When we finally pulled into our friends’ dormitory complex, the cop hadn’t turned the corner . . . yet. We yelled to the driver of the truck to pull over so we could quickly hop out. While the car was still rolling, we jumped out and ran like there was no tomorrow into our friends’ dorm room. We all crashed on the couch, out of breath and dying of laughter. Fortunately, this cop had a real job (like chasing down burglars and murderers) and didn’t stop to ticket us. It’s been a while since I had a brush with the law. I think the last time was that speeding ticket I got three years ago. Whew!

Lately (probably because I’m such a bad, evil person for riding in the beds of trucks without a seatbelt and stuff), I’ve decided I should start taking sermon notes at church. (For those of you who don’t already know, I have a clinical diagnosis of Adult ADD. My attention span is equivalent to that of a five year old.) Taking notes at church really forces me to concentrate. The only problem with taking sermon notes is that Kevin, a naturally compulsive editor of everything he comes across, constantly points out my spelling errors. It’s not that I don’t know how to spell certain words . . . it’s just that I’m writing too fast to worry about silly, inconsequential things like spelling properly!! Hopefully all this editing won’t totally destroy my note-taking confidence. After all, I must concentrate on the sermons so I can work on my goldiness. Oops, I mean godliness.

The front.

The foyer.

Our new house.

Thoughts of the Moment

We’re getting a new phone number. I was hoping to keep our old one because it takes me such a long time to memorize new numbers. Kevin totally cracks me up – he’s glad to get rid of our current phone number because the last four digits are 1721 and he hates having so many ones in our phone number. I never realized he was so particular about these types of things. Apparently, he doesn’t like odd numbers unless it’s a five or a seven. Hmmm. Picky, picky. I’m hoping to go to the state fair this year. (It starts tonight.) Truth be told, I’ve never been to a bona fide state fair. We always went to the L.A. or Orange county fairs – which are both gigantic. Sacramento was always too far to drive. Even though Kevin and I lived here last year, we didn’t go to the state fair ‘cuz we were both jobless and broke. This year we may not have time to go. But I’m still crossing my fingers! If we make it, I want to go on that zipper ride. Do you know which one I’m talking about? It’s the one that’s oblong-shaped with little cars that spin up and down it. It’s the most nauseating, white-knuckler ride ever. (Very fun!) I have fond memories going on that ride with Kevin at a Maryland county fair in the fall of 2001. It was definitely one of those bonding experiences. I think both of us closed our eyes and screamed incessantly for the entire ride. Ahh . . . good times. Today we were supposed to close escrow but our loan docs didn’t arrive in time. So that means we won’t close until at least Monday. Which also means that we’ll lose a weekend to clean, paint, and move our stuff. Bummer.

Excursions at Lowe's

As a child, I always thought hardware stores were the most boring places on the planet. Not only did they smell gross, there wasn’t anything interesting or colorful to look at or touch. (Maybe it’s just that my dad always took me to the humdrum aisles to buy bolts and nails and stuff.) Although I still think hardware stores smell badly, I’ve overcome the rest of my prejudices. Last night we went to Lowe’s to price window screens. I wasn’t looking forward to it because I could think of a lot of other things I’d rather spend our money on. As Kevin was perusing the screen aisle, my attention was diverted to a long row of beautiful oriental rugs. After looking at those for a while, I went to try out the patio furniture. Then I discovered the paint department. It was fun to gather samples and figure out what kinds of colors I want for the house. We ended up spending like three hours in the hardware store. Although, I must confess, thirty minutes were spent arguing with this totally whacked-out new age guy.

“Charles,” a very friendly local chap, was trying to be helpful in the screen aisle. After “helping” us, he asked me what I did for a job. When I told him, we ended up talking about the life issue. He started spewing off this nonsense about how all life (human, animal, vegetable, etc.) is equal. Unable to help myself, I told him that his comment was completely ridiculous: “How can you equate swatting a housefly with killing a child?” I really wasn’t in the mood to argue. Honestly! But how could I let someone get away with saying such outrageous things? (This is why I get into trouble so often. And poor Kevin gets dragged along for the ride!) That brought up the point of how a person determines what is right or wrong. Charles said he knows what’s right inside his heart. That’s nice . . . BUT if it’s just what someone happens to think, is right or wrong, that’s really scary – because it’s so unpredictable. That’s why it’s important to have an absolute moral standard (i.e., the bible). Obviously, I think that my morality (the bible) also makes sense. That’s because God created the mind and is a God of order.

It was incredible, to me, how Charles was so concerned about “agreeing” with me at the end of our conversation. Truth be known, it’s not important to me to agree with people. I can disagree with someone and still be their friend (e.g., Kevin is my best friend and we disagree on things now and then). It was obvious Charles wasn’t comfortable with that. Charles is the type of person who has probably read all those “success” books and tries to implement them in every day life. Those people really annoy me. Karen and I were recently talking about this lady we know who reads all those “how to climb the corporate ladder” books and is constantly trying to implement the principles she’s learned. She walks around saying things like, “My management style is . . .” How retarded is that! I mean, it’s okay to read them, just don’t act in a way that makes it so obvious you’ve read them!

In my next life, I think I shall try to live as though I have no opinions at all. It makes things much less complicated that way. (And it would probably be better for Kevin’s nerves, too.)

". . . the fairest picture . . ."

"At last the lake burst upon us—a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft three thousand feet higher still! As it lay there with the shadows of the mountains brilliantly photographed upon its still surface, I thought it must surely be the fairest picture the whole world affords." -- Mark Twain, describing Lake Tahoe

Kevin had a mediation at Lake Tahoe yesterday. I went up with him on Sunday afternoon to make a little vacation out of it. We stayed in Incline Village, Nevada, at the nicest resort on the North Shore - and the client paid for it! (It doesn’t get any better than that!) The place we stayed at was surrounded by mountains and pine trees. It also had a private beach with little canopies and sun chairs. We enjoyed walking on the beach and then huddling near the bonfire to keep warm against the cool winds from the lake. After dinner we lazed around on the pool deck. This hotel had the largest hot tub I’ve ever seen! It was fun to pretend we’re rich for a day. ;-) On Monday, I spent time walking around the shops and reading on the beach. It was wonderful to just relax and forget all the cares of city life.

I got Monday off work because I "volunteered" (along with Kevin) at a Placer County GOP barbecue on Saturday. The barbecue was held at a horse ranch in the Lincoln foothills. Honestly, it was the easiest volunteer job ever. We had a lot of fun. We met interesting people, ate a lot of tri-tip, took a hay ride, and laughed whenever "Senator Kerry" was dunked in the dunk-tank. Especially when this little girl nailed him good. (Hee, hee.)

Worthy of Mention

Mrs. Sara Jones posted an insightful commentary on legalism, worthy of reading and thinking about. It's easy to live by a set of rules. It's a lot more difficult to live by the Spirit. Although we are to always follow God's commandments (evidenced in His word), there are a lot of areas in a Christian's life that are left to liberty.

There's a big difference between convictions and preferences. Let us never be so pious as to impose our mere preferences on other believers. Above all, let us show love, which is the greatest commandment and the greatest gift.

Childhood Play

Tomorrow is Saturday. Yay! A day to sleep in. Last time we had a free Saturday morning, we sat on the floor cross-legged, eating Reese’s Puffs cereal and watching cartoons. It was like we were little kids again. It was great fun. When I bought the Reese’s Puffs (they were on sale, what can I say?), Kevin wanted to know if I was going to eat them for breakfast or dessert. "Yes," I told him. And, can you believe it, I talked him into eating some as well. Never doubt the persuasive powers of Amy Koons.

Requiem Contemplation

My favorite date (his name begins with a "K") took me to another chorale event last night. The only problem is that I couldn’t sit with him. I had to sit with a bunch of strange ladies in the alto section and, per instructions from the conductor, we all gave each other shoulder massages as a warm-up exercise. (Shouldn’t I be up for some kind of Best Wife of the Year award by now?)

The thing I love about requiems is that the lyrics encourage introspection. Despite my extraverted tendencies, I firmly believe that it’s important to regularly pause and reflect on the deeper things in life. Requiems, as I’m sure you know, are prayers for the dead. They embody deep, soul-searching emotions. Last night we sang of the terror of the judgment of Christ. And then we sang of the beauty of the forgiveness of Christ. While in the midst of song, I looked around the room at the hundreds of vocalists. I wondered if they were thinking about the words they were singing. I mean, really thinking. (Christ is coming to judge, am I personally forgiven?) I know that the conductor, who goes to a very liberal church, sincerely contemplates the lyrics of all the pieces he conducts. I don’t doubt his sincerity. Or the sincerity of anyone else. (Most people in the chorale are very "religious.") But I was also thinking about how often people become involved in religion and go to church for the wrong reasons. For many religious people God is simply an emotional experience and church is a kind of social "club." Religion feels good - it meets emotional needs - so why not do it? I realize that it’s not for me to judge a person’s motive for engaging in religious activities. It’s just interesting to think about, that’s all. I just can’t imagine someone spending a lifetime singing such beautiful words, with such tremendous emotion and depth, and having it not be real for them. "Real" in the sense of having lasting consequences based on true belief vs. temporary feel-goodism. But I’m sure it happens every day.

Legal Writing

As much as I like to write, legal writing was not my favorite subject in school. In fact, I still cringe when I think about that first year legal memorandum project. The question was whether Alice-somebody could keep an engagement ring after her relationship went south. When writing my first draft of the memo, I was interested in Alice’s plight. On the second draft, I could care less about Alice and her problems. On my third draft, I wanted to wring Alice’s neck and say, "Give back the blasted ring and get on with your life you stupid idiot!" (Wouldn’t I make a great plaintiff’s lawyer?)

The interesting thing about moving is that you discover stuff from your past that you had buried in some deep closet and put far from your mind.

Last night Kevin unearthed my senior paper. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. "Oh no," I mourned, "You found it. I thought I’d lost it and I was glad." Kevin started laughing because he remembered how bad I was and how much I complained while writing it. I was in my last year of law school and just wanted to be done. The only thing tying me down was that dreaded paper. I think I block-quoted at least half the paper. It had to be 35 pages and I didn’t have the mental energy to write that much about a topic I wasn’t even interested in. (That was my problem - I couldn’t think of a topic I was particularly passionate about that fit the criteria. So I picked Eighth Amendment considerations of the death penalty. Blah.) The last page, which is (incidentally) page number 35, contains half of a sentence that was stretched-out across the top of the paper! But I made it!! (Whew.) "Kevin, didn’t you help me edit that paper?" "NO," said Kevin. "You just don’t want to be associated with that paper in any way, do you?" (More laughter.) Well, my Prof gave me a B. So, obviously, he didn’t think it was totally shabby. Ugh.

My roots must be blonde.

After putting in my left-eye contact this morning, I started to put in my right-eye contact. That’s when I realized that the vision in my left eye was worse than before I put the contact in. "That’s weird," I thought. "Why is it so blurry?" Rationalizing that maybe, just maybe, the lens was simply dirty, I rinsed it and put it back in. No luck. After the third attempt, with the foggy contact secured to my left eye, the truth hit me. I was wearing Kevin’s contact lens. I know that we’re married and everything - but I still thought that was kinda gross. It was bound to happen some time.

Thanks, Friends

Thanks to Mark Bigger and Aaron Klein, my boss now knows about my blog. ("Hi, Karen!") Apparently Mark and Aaron mentioned it while having lunch with her at the GOP state convention this past weekend. And then Karen brought it up at staff meeting today! So now my co-worker, Angela, knows about my blog. ("Hi, Angela!") Sigh . . . If more people keep finding out about my blog, that means I’ll run out of people to talk about. Or I’ll just have to say nice things about them (vs. telling the truth). And how fun (or interesting) is that?! [wink, wink]

Is this guy for real?

Check it out! Where did this guy come from and why aren’t there more like him? (Listen to his radio spots - they are HYSTERICAL.)

Weekend Widow

Kevin had to work pretty much all weekend, so I didn’t have anyone to play with. I was really bummed about this. (Settlement negotiations fell through on a case and he had to turn in a brief today.) On Saturday, I cleaned, packed, and made a blueberry pie. The pie definitely helped to lift my spirits. When Kevin finally got home, he felt like crashing. We decided to get a movie. I suggested we get Runaway Jury. Kevin said he’d rather not watch anything law-related. So we got a chick flick instead. One thing I like about Kevin is that he is secure enough in his masculinity to admit that he likes watching chick flicks now and then. Most guys probably, deep down inside, really do want to watch them but feel like that have to always choose movies in the Jackie Chan genre to keep up their macho facade. That’s what I think, anyway.

(Okay, if it’s possible, I won’t say any more inflammatory things for the rest of this post.)

Yesterday we had a lovely dinner at the Schweickert home in Walnut Creek. We enjoyed our visit with the whole family. I personally enjoyed sitting outside watching their bunny rabbit hop around their beautiful garden. In the car on the way home, I asked Kevin if we could get a bunny rabbit too. Usually when I ask him for something he is noncommittal and says "we’ll see." He must not be too keen on the bunny idea because he flat out said "no." Maybe it’s just that he’s overwhelmed at the idea of caring for an orange tree and a bunny rabbit. Maybe once we figure out how to care for an orange tree, he’ll say "yes" to the rabbit idea. (Geesh, what will happen when we have kids?! Maybe getting a bunny first is a good idea - so we can work our way up! I know Kevin’s mom is already worried about the well-being of her future grandkids because of my plant-killing habits. Sigh . . . Being a grownup is a lot of responsibility!)

Recent Shopping Addictions

The other day I walked eight blocks to the downtown library and loaded up with a bunch of interior decorating books. Halfway back, I stopped at the farmer’s market and bought a couple bags of fruit. Despite my heavy burdens, I managed to eat most of the grapes by the time I got back to my office. I cannot believe a) how good they were and b) how cheap they were. I’m now hooked on this farmer’s market thing. I doubt I’ll ever buy fruit at the grocery store again, if I can help it.

One of the books I got from the library, called Interior Designing for All Five Senses, has really inspired me to think differently about decorating. Although most of design is visual, it also involves so much more. Now I just have to figure out how to convince Kevin to let me get canaries and scatter herbs all over the living room. (Just kidding, Kev!) This book also contains many interesting tidbits. For instance, today I learned that red is a good color to use in eating places because it makes people hungry and when people see red, it increases their metabolism by 14 percent. This is useful information. You know? (I’m just wondering why those diet commercials don’t mention this?)

Anyway, to get to my point . . . I liked this book so much that I went on half.com and bought it (brand new) for $2.66. I was very happy about this since it retails at $30.00. I had never used half.com before. But now I doubt I’ll ever buy books at Barnes and Nobles ever again. I’m hooked. Simply hooked.

In other news, today we had a home inspection done. It was fascinating, to say the least. It was a time for me to take off my rose-colored glasses and realize that our house actually has a few flaws! Much to Kevin’s relief, they weren’t serious or expensive. We will probably only ask the seller to do a few things. For instance, replace all the missing screens that the dogs had chewed up. (Today I added to my list another reason why Dogs are Evil.) Although the things we have to do aren’t expensive, some of them will be time consuming. As the inspection guy was going through everything with us, I turned to Kevin and said, “Well, there goes all our free time.”

And . . . today I achieved a minor victory. I talked Kevin into taking me to lunch at Wiener Works. (I’ve been trying for months.) Although we both dislike hot dogs, I’d heard that this was a great joint. Even though our lunch looked like a heart-attack-on-a-plate, when all was said and done, Kevin said it “wasn’t bad.” (This means that he secretly liked it and wants to go back. I’ve got him all figured out.)

A day of citrus and chickens . . .

For his anniversary present, I got Kevin an orange tree. (Romantic, eh?) He told me once, "If we move to California, I want an orange tree." Secretly, I wanted a lemon tree. But, since it was Kev’s gift, not mine, I got him an orange tree instead. We probably won’t be able to have both, because of cross-pollination issues, so it was very self-sacrificial of me to get the orange tree instead. But don’t pity me. Unless you want to, of course.

Kevin was really surprised by his gift. When he came home from work, he found it perched on the kitchen table. He couldn’t believe that I could pick out any sort of agricultural item all by myself. It was a proud moment for me. The sad part is if we plant it at our house and then move, we’ll lose it. But, oh well, if we move somewhere else in California, then maybe my chances at getting a lemon tree will improve. The guy I bought the tree from said that we should have edible fruit in the winter of 2005. Yippee!

We went to dinner last night at a place called the Slocum House in Fair Oaks. As we were walking up to the restaurant, chickens started appearing from nowhere. Apparently there is some historical significance to the chickens, but I never figured it out. I did hear someone saying that the city council hotly debated whether or not to allow chickens to roam the city, unrestrained. Apparently the ‘free the chickens’ campaign won the debate. We ate outside by a big maple tree and when it started getting dark, lights in the tree lit up above us. It was very romantic. Except for the chickens. But that was fun in its own way too, I suppose.

Speaking of farm animals, I just finished reading Animal Farm by G. Orwell. It’s very funny, insightful, and easy to read.

Two Years

Today marks our second-year anniversary. I always believed that it would take an awfully good man to be better than no man at all. God brought Kevin into my life. And the rest is history.

Kevin, I never thought it was possible to love so deeply and be so happy. Thank you for these past two years, the best years of my life. The beauty of true love is that even the 'bad' days are good. I look forward to all the good times, the wonderful times, and the marvelous times ahead of us.

(I have a lot more to say to Kevin - of which I shall save for a more intimate venue.) ;-)

Chinese Surprises and Pixie Weddings

We had a fantastic time with Megan this weekend, finding random adventures at every turn. Megan is such a dearie and we love her.

We are getting to be fairly decent S.F. tour guides, if we don’t say so ourselves, ‘cuz we’ve been there so frequently in the past year! When we arrived on Friday, late in the morning, the city was alive, bustling with activity and excitement. We went straight to Chinatown to have lunch at a place called The House of Nanking. I had learned, from an online search, that this was a favorite place of the locals. When we arrived, the small restaurant was packed. We stood in a line outside the door and this little Chinese man, with a shock of peppery gray hair and an upturned collar, appeared in the doorway to help keep the line moving. He was quite a busy little fellow. He was very animated and kept trying to hurry us along into the restaurant. Soon we were seated at a tiny table in the corner and handed our menus. Someone brought us some colorful cups filled with water and a slice of lemon and cucumber. I’d never had cucumber in my water before, and I was pleasantly surprised at the flavor.

A few seconds later, the same little man who was ‘helping the line’ was at our side again. Apparently, since he was so talented at being everywhere at once, he would also be our waiter. He grabbed our menus from underneath our noses and asked, "This your first time here?" When we answered affirmatively, he said, "I take care of you. I’m chef." He then asked what we couldn’t eat because of allergies or religious reasons. And I asked for no seafood, please. Before we could say anything else, he was gone with a bow and a whirl. Once he had left, Kevin, Megan and I stared at each other in disbelief and astonishment. Then we started laughing. We looked around us wondering what kind of place this was exactly. All the other patrons seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly. Kevin decided that having someone else choose what you would eat at a restaurant was kind of fun. Soon we were brought appetizers, and then three huge family-style platters with all sorts of yummy Chinese variations. It was all very delicious. Incidentally, the three platters included beef, chicken and pork, plus stuffed mushrooms, fancy sweet potatoes, etc. I must say that this whole episode was the craziest restaurant experience I’ve ever had!

After lunch we took a cable car to the wharf, where we observed people cracking open steamed crabs and eating them. Revolting, eh? I wonder who was the first person who had the bright idea of eating something so ugly as a crab. We also spent some time in Union Square. We went to this huge, four story, Williams-Sonoma store. It was rather impressive.

On Saturday we spent some time along the coast. We bought some sourdough bread, salami, and cheese and took a picnic lunch to Stinton beach. It was marvelous to eat and relax next to the wonderful ocean sounds and smells. I love the ocean. I can never get enough of it. After playing in the water for a while, and taking a nap, we started packing up. That’s when we noticed a wedding starting to take place a few yards from where we were sitting. Kevin rolled his eyes when Megan and I said we wanted to stay and watch it for a while. It was very interesting, to say the least. The wedding party followed two ladies singing, throwing flower petals and rapping tambourines. All of them were barefoot. The bridesmaids were wearing bright colored dresses with glitter, sequins, and huge wings attached to their backs. Yes, I said wings. I guess they were trying to be either butterflies or fairies . . . or something. The ‘officiator’ was a woman dressed in a translucent black color with large rainbow-colored wings. The officiator’s wings were larger than any of the other wings. The bride had a flowing veil and a large black tattoo on her lower arm. The wedding lasted approximately nine minutes. In the middle of the wedding ceremony, a park ranger showed up because the bride and groom didn’t have a permit to be on the beach. Hmmmmm . . . it’s pretty much guaranteed that, if you go to the S.F. Bay, you will see fascinating things.

Before Megan left, we made sure that she got a well rounded California experience: We took her to In ‘N’ Out Burger and Jamba Juice. And, of course, we listened to the Beach Boys.

Bargaining is Fun

Kevin opened his bible this morning and his eyes fell on Ps. 69:1: "Save me O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck." Kevin told me that he hopes this isn’t a ‘sign’ from God about what will happen when we take on a big mortgage.

Honestly, though, everything is working out perfectly. Almost too perfect. We inquired about purchasing the seller’s beautiful two-year-old refrigerator and, after finding out that we wouldn’t make a big deal about a few hairline cracks in the entry way tiles, she decided to throw in the fridge for no additional charge. She’s also throwing in the washer and dryer. This means that the only ‘major’ purchase we’ll need to make ASAP is a lawnmower. Everything else can wait until the budget allows. Whew!

The seller’s agent said that she was very amused that two lawyers were willing to sign an arbitration agreement. Interestingly, this was something we balked at doing. But, in the end, we decided to make the offer as clean as possible and sign everything. The moral of the story? Even lawyers will make concessions when they want to buy a house in a seller’s market.

YAAAAHOOOOOOOO!!!

Whoever said the third try is a charm was mistaken. For us, it was actually the fifth try that was the charm. The fifth offer we made on a house has been accepted. [Insert loud, resounding trumpet fanfare, wild, victorious cheers, and booming canon blasts.] Our new Realtor (who has a very different approach in making offers than our previous Realtor; buying houses can be complicated, I’m learning) called us last night at 10:30 to tell us the good news. We were elated. The last thing Kevin said before he promptly fell asleep was, "I hope I won’t be up all night thinking about it." As it turns out, I was the one up until 2 AM thinking about it!! There are a lot of things we love about this house but the best thing is probably the wood flooring all throughout the first floor. And the kitchen has black appliances, which I think is very cool. Those of you who have already purchased a home know exactly what we are feeling right now. It’s a strange combination of extreme excitement and extreme nervousness. We are excited about our new house. (I’ve already pulled out all of my home decorating books and Kevin is thinking about landscaping.) We are nervous about having a mortgage. (Maybe not so many weekend getaway trips from now on!) Whatever happens, we are relieved that we won’t have to be running around looking at houses, reviewing offers, having our hopes dashed when they don’t get accepted, etc. All of that was rather stressful. I’m glad it’s behind us. As soon as I get a picture of the house I’ll scan it and post it. Unfortunately, I have a bad reputation for promptly developing film. But I’ll try.

We'll Always Have Virginia

Last night we had a great visit with Nathan Richmond, out here to take the bar exam.  It was fun to reminisce about the good ol' days in Virginia.  Wow.  Floods of memories.  I think we need to visit Virginia again sometime soon.   It would be a great shot in the arm.  I’ve never been anyplace so consistently beautiful and completely inspiring.  Although it wouldn’t be the same . . . it sounds like a lot of things have changed . . . it would still be Virginia, a little spot of heaven on earth. 

White Knuckler

This past weekend we drove up to Sequoia to meet my parents.  It took us quite a bit longer than we anticipated.  We were anxious to get there and really didn’t notice our gas gauge was almost on empty.  Our new car has this cool little thing-a-ma-jig that lets us know how many miles we have left before we run out of gas.  As we were driving along the mountainside we saw a sign that said “Sequoia National Park, 35 miles.”  We then looked at our dashboard and noticed that we only had 29 miles left of petrol.  (Not good.)  You have to understand, we were in the middle of nowhere.  (Very not good.)  And there are BEARS in Sequoia.  (Extra very not good.)  We saw a sign that said “Pinehurst, 5 miles” and decided to take a fork in the road that led to Pinehurst.  We descended elevation quickly, coasting in neutral as much as possible, on a wing and a prayer that Pinehurst would have a gas station.  It turns out, the only thing in Pinehurst besides a few log cabins was an old lodge for passersby to stop in and have some booze.  The ‘gentleman’ behind the bar told Kevin that the closest gas station was one we’d passed by thirty minutes ago and it was surely closed by now.  He said the closest gas station that would be open was about sixty miles away.  (More bad news.)  The best bet for us, he said, was to try to make it to Lodgepole.  He offered no more helpful advice, so we begin climbing the mountain again, Kevin clutching the wheel and me clutching my seat. 

We hardly spoke at all because we were both tense.  By this time, it was past ten o’clock at night.  I was silently planning out what we could do . . . we could either go as far as we could until we died and then hike the rest of the way OR we could just pull over to the side of the road and sleep, trying to ignore the thought of hungry bears prowling around us.  That last thought caused me to involuntarily shudder.  (I've seen pictures where bears have mauled through cars because they've smelled the scent of a tube of toothpaste or food items left in the trunk.)

Periodically, on our ascent, I would glance at the gauge that told us how many miles we had left until we ran out of gas.  19 . . . 18 . . . 17 . . . 16 . . . 15 . . . and then it stopped and started blinking wildly as if to tell us DANGER, WE CANNOT COUNT FOR YOU ANYMORE.  As we continued on our way, I told Kevin I felt like the astronauts in Apollo 13 as all the systems were starting to shut down. 

When it seemed as if we would be in NEVADA at any moment, we finally made it to the entrance of the park.  No one told us that it would be at least another hour to Lodgepole.  Every mile was an answer to prayer.  I remarked to Kevin, “Who needs gas when we have God?”  Kevin replied, “I’m sure that God doesn’t appreciate our stupidity.”  (We both felt irresponsible for forgetting to fuel up earlier in the day.)  Incredibly, we made it to the campsite!!  It was such a relief.  It was pitch dark (nearly 11:30) when we arrived and I think my parents had given up on us and had gone to bed.  We laughed with joy as we stumbled through the rocky campsite.  Although we’d have to set up our tent in the dark, at least we wouldn’t have to sleep in the car.  And that was cause for much delight.  I still will never figure out how we made it all the way.  Unless the mileage countdown gizmo was wrong, it surely must have been a bona fide miracle. 

. . . The highlights of the weekend, for us, included hiking up to the top of a waterfall (which has now dwindled down to a trickle) and playing in a bunch of little pools with the little kids.  David ‘accidentally’ slid into one of the pools and soon the rest of them jumped in to cool off.  We also enjoyed watching the constellations with Betsy and Steve.  Every ten seconds or so, we’d see shooting stars.  It was like our own little God-made fireworks show.  Kevin was amazed at the giant forest.  The General Sherman tree is the largest living THING in the world.  We drove our car (now fully gassed) through the center of a tree and got pictures.  Fun times. 

Sing-along

Remember how I dragged Kevin off to that contradance several weeks ago?  Well, I just knew I’d have to pay for that somehow.  Last night was the night.  Kev’s chorale was having a summer sing-along.  It was open to the public but I had this feeling that I’d be the only ‘amateur’ there.  I could just envision it . . . I’m sitting there screeching out my notes while everyone else is radiating perfectly round operatic tones.  (I do just fine at the campfire.  But this definitely wasn’t the campfire.)  People in Kev’s chorale take singing very seriously.  And many of them are rather uppity about it.  As we were walking into the cathedral Methodist church downtown, Kevin happens to mention that we’ll be singing in Latin.  Oh great.  That made me especially strained.  Afterall, I have enough trouble with English.

We sang Mozart’s Coronation Mass.  And (can you believe it?) I even remember what key it was in!  C major.  I guess Mozart liked to compose things in C major because most composers thought it was a boring key.  But Mozart, being the mastermind that he was, liked to prove them wrong.  So, that’s the only reason I know it was in C major.  Anyway, I got lost several times while trying to sing all those ‘dona nobis pacems.’  And I was horrified when one kind lady sitting next to me said, “You’re doing a great job.”  Frankly, I was trying not to be heard.  (When she said that I determined to sing even quieter.)  And I’m sure that was just a way for her to ‘encourage’ the newcomer.  Well, it was nice of her, but I know it wasn’t true. 

We had cookies at the break time.  That was fun.  And I got to meet some of Kevin’s friends.  That was also nice. 

They’re going to have another one in mid-August.  Since my experience last night wasn’t as bad as I was expecting (actually, it was kinda fun in its own way), I might go with him again.  But people better not expect me to join the chorale.  ‘Cuz I still think I make a much better spectator than I would a member.  And, gosh, the audition alone would totally freak me out. 

Grease Monkeys

Please let the record reflect that I HATE CAR MECHANICS.  No offense to any of you out there who are, or aspire to be, a car mechanic.  I’m sure you are an exception to the rule. 

My theory is that car mechanics mail you coupons for really cheap oil changes so they can lure you into their shops and then charge you an arm and a leg for all these extra things that “you really need done or your car will simply fall apart within a half mile of driving it on the freeway.”  (We’ve all heard the rhetoric.)  Last time we got an oil change, we ended up paying like $500 when it was all said and done.  This morning, we had a mechanic quote us $25 to install a light bulb in our car (and we had already purchased and supplied the light bulb)!!!  Our response was: “No thank you, that is highway robbery.  We will figure out how to do it OURSELVES.  We will go to the LIBRARY and check out a BOOK on it.  We will search the INTERNET (yay for Google).  It is the INFORMATION AGE and we will NOT be imbeciles and fall prey to your shady, twisted schemes.”

Math is Scary

A: Angela says we’re going to lose valuable one-on-one time because we won’t be commuting to work together as often. 
K: Amy, do you really think having a second car is going to hurt our relationship?
A: No, I mean, it was only ten minutes, twice a day, anyway. 
K: Huh.  Let’s see . . . twenty minutes a day, five times a week, is 100 minutes.  That’s more than an hour and a half a week.  And, um, let’s see . . . [squinting his eyes and thinking silently] . . . that’s more than 86 hours, which is more than 3 ½ days every year that we won’t be talking to each other. 
A: Okay, now I’m worried. 

War

I happened on this quote from an article about a group of conservative counter-protesters. They were counter-protesting an anti-war protest carrying signs reading:

"Except for Ending Slavery, Fascism, Nazism and Communism, War Has Never Solved Anything."

Isn't that a great soundbite?

Just philosophizing

Well, I’m still trying to find the precise definition of a rose.  The only helpful thing I’ve found so far is this statement on one website: “Biology tells us that all roses have in common important properties that no one has discovered yet.”
 
Developing . . .
 
Last night we said “goodbye” to Colin and Shannon at the airport.  Very sad.  We really enjoyed our visit with them.  We stopped by Old Sac on our way to the airport – just to squeeze out a few more drops of fun memories.  ;-)
 
It seems to me that there’s always something in life to regret (when your siblings have to leave town, the good ol’ times, etc.) and always something in life to look forward to (seeing them again, making more memories, etc.).

And now I’m sitting here at my computer on my lunch break as life continues to move on . . .

Roses

Today I think the temperatures in my office have been consistently below zero. My teeth have been chattering all morning long. (Well, not quite . . . but it’s more fun to imagine that they were.) ;-) To warm up, I walked over to the World Peace Rose Garden during my lunch break. (If I’d had a blanket with me, I would have laid down on the capitol lawn and taken a nap underneath the warmth of the sun.) Despite the fact that the rose garden has been made into a politically correct, anti-war showcase, it really is beautiful. It’s amazing how many different types of roses exist in this world. All kinds of shapes, sizes, and colors. Some of them don’t even look like roses. This makes me wonder what exactly constitutes a rose. Hmmm. I’ll have to look into that.

As I basked in the warm rays, I thanked God for sunshine and flowers.

Where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars . . .

We took a very scenic route to San Francisco on Saturday. We drove on the bay side of Marin Co. until we got to Tiburon. The North Bay truly is a splendid place. As we were driving along, we spotted two chubby faced kids sitting on a corner with a big, homemade sign that read "Lemonade, 50 cents." It’s been years since I’ve seen a lemonade stand. The kids were so adorable - we had to stop. The little boy scooped the ice and filled the cups while the little girl counted the coins. Kev said that his lemonade tasted like sunscreen. (Heh, heh.)

According to Kevin, there’s a famous property law case out of Tiburon. As we walked on the boardwalk, he pointed out the various signs that cited code sections enacted because of this case. (Ahhhh, the wonderful contributions lawyers have made to the world.) We found a really cool café that sells gelato in Tiburon. I was happy about this.  Gelato is hard to find, you know?

We met Colin and Shannon in Sausilito and found a nice restaurant, perched over the water, with a full view of the downtown skyline. As the sun set beyond the Golden Gate, the skyline shone vibrantly with different shades of yellow, orange, and purple. That evening we explored the Palace of Fine arts and then drove up to Coit Tower and through China Town. The next day we spent pretty much the whole morning and early afternoon in the Exploratorium. We were only planning on staying for two hours. But, as Shannon said, "that’s what you get when you bring along two science nerds." Seriously, though, it was a blast. Everything was a hands-on experience. (And it was the type of place where you wanted to take a shower with hot water and bleach afterwards to kill all the germs!) We learned something fascinating about Kevin while at one exhibit. He sees colors in different tones than the rest of us. ( No wonder we disagree about the color of something now and then!) The cones in Kev’s eyes see more greenish tones and the cones in Colin’s, Shannon’s, and my eyes see more reddish tones. It was hysterical. The rest of the morning we kept asking him, "Hey, Kev, what color is this?" Poor guy. We love him anyway.

We also went to the largest tourist trap in the whole city - Fisherman’s Wharf. But, hey, you’ve gotta go at least once. Kevin is the only one among us who likes seafood. So, he got some while there. It was fun to see the famous S.F. street performers. I was very happy that we were all successfully frightened by the notorious "bush man" in S.F. There’s this guy that sits down on the sidewalk between Pier 39 and Ghirardelli’s behind some branches (so he looks like a bush) and then, when people least expect it, he reaches out and scares them. It’s great fun to be scared by him - and then watch him scare other people. We drove through Nob Hill, drove by the Victorian Painted Ladies, drove through Golden Gate park, etc., etc. San Francisco is truly the most beautiful, most colorful, most interesting city in the world. Every time I go back there, I’m reminded of it. As we left the city, the signature fog started rolling in. What a wonderful day.

Hidden thoughts revealed . . .

Last night Kev called two of his sibs, Colin and Shannon, who are en route, via Seattle, to our house. He has been jumping up and down with excitement to be able to see them this weekend. I am ecstatic also but have refrained from the jumping aspect. Col and Shann are driving out a car we are buying, at a discounted price, from Kevin’s dad. We are happy that we will once again be a two-car family. Yay!

A: Kev, are you excited about the new car?
K: Yes. The great thing is that I will be able to plan the end of my work day better.
A: Yeah, on some days you may even get home before I do.
K: I hope not.
A: Why would that be so terrible?
K: ‘Cuz then I might have to fix dinner.

(Hey, at least he always does the dishes for me. I can’t complain.)
 

Self-satisfaction

This morning I was pondering pride. It suddenly came to me that pride is the result of comparing ourselves with other people. And humility is the result of comparing ourselves to God. It’s horrible to have to admit but often I think people, myself included, have the tendency to look around and think "I’m doin’ pretty durn good." But if we look at who Christ is, that’s when we see ourselves falling woefully short. That’s when we discover how much we need to grow.

The last several days I’ve been reading In His Steps by Charles Sheldon. Although it’s a Christian classic, I’d never read it before. (Well, actually, believe it or not, I read the comic book by the same title when I was a kid. So I’m somewhat familiar with the story.) I’ve found the book to be very interesting. I’m not sure I agree with everything but, for the most part, it’s been very challenging and thought-provoking.
 

Brag on Kevin TIME

Last night Kevin called me on his way home from the Bay. I was also in the car, driving home from work. In mid sentence, Kevin nonchalantly said, "I’ve been hit." "You’ve been whaaa . . .?" I asked. "I’ve gotta go," he replied, simply. Out of the two of us, you’d think it’d be ME that would get in the car accident while talking on the cell phone. But, nooooooo. It was Mr. "I-have-a-perfect-driving-record-Kevin." But it wasn’t his fault - so I guess he’ll still have the spotless record after all. Kev wasn’t able to call me back for quite some time but eventually I learned that it was a teenage kid who rear-ended him on the freeway during rush hour. The kid admitted fault and Kevin got a favorable police report. So hopefully this whole thing won’t turn into a headache. I was glad Kevin was unruffled about it all. He handled this inconvenience very admirably.

Aaaannnndddd . . . Kevin will kill me for putting this in the blog, but he was paid a very nice compliment by another attorney at the deposition who told him during a break that he did a GREAT JOB conducting the deposition and this particular attorney was very impressed with Kevin. So, anyway, I’m a very proud wife right now. *beaming*

Chocolat Fondue

Yesterday I was bemoaning the fact that Kevin was going to be out of town on business for the evening and I would be bored. (He stayed overnight in the Bay Area so he could take some depositions early this morning.) Last night, as I was headed home from work, I decided to be spontaneous and invite a few girlfriends over for some homemade chocolat fondue. I scrambled to find a recipe - chocolate with a hint of coffee, went grocery shopping, picked up the house, made the fondue, washed the strawberries, etc., set the table, and was ready just in time. Whala! Us girls had a fantastic time of eating, talking and vegging. Angela brought over two different chick flicks (she couldn’t decide which one to get) and we ended up watching both of them. They were both seriously lame - but we didn’t really care. When Kevin called me at 11 o’clock to say goodnight, we were just starting our second movie. Kevin was incredulous, "Amy, don’t you have to work tomorrow?" Yes, in fact, I did. But, hey, you’ve gotta live a little.

It’s funny because two of the friends that I hang out with the most right now, besides Kevin, are in very different stages of life than me. Angela is 17 and is just now excited to get her first car, start her first job, etc. Karen is 42 and is raising a teenage daughter and managing a nonprofit organization. Sometimes I think we can have preconceived notions about "who" our closest friends should be. But something I’ve learned about friendship is that wonderful things come when we are open to the "unlikely" friends God chooses to place in our path.

Six Years: Does it matter?

Today a friend of mine is going to the funeral of a six year old boy. This boy has an interesting story. His parents adopted him when his birth mother told his mom ("Linda") that she would have an abortion unless Linda adopted her baby. Believing that the child’s life should be spared, Linda agreed to take the baby. The family had six wonderful years with this delightful young boy. He was diagnosed, only two months ago, with an inoperable, malignant brain tumor. He is now in heaven with his Maker. God bless the courageous family who adopted this boy and gave him six years of life. God bless those who believe that all life is sacred - from conception to natural death.

Water Wars

On Saturday, after having a lovely breakfast with Joel and Veronica at LaBou Bakery, Kev and I joined some friends for a time of rafting on the American River. Our group had four rafts, with 4-6 people in each raft. Because of the protected areas around the American River, it felt like we were in the middle of “nowhere,” even though we were still within Sacramento city limits. Most of the people on this trip were strangers to us. They were all part of a college and career group at another church. As we got into our rafts to float down the river, I anticipated a peaceful, relaxing journey.

NOT.

Within seconds, another boat in our party started attacking us with super soakers. They also had a bucket which they used to dip into the river and fling water at us. My clothes (which I wore over my swimsuit) were instantly drenched. Some of the guys in our boat started attacking back. Pretty soon we were engaged in an all-out Water War. For the first half of our four-hour rafting trip, the war fervently continued. Several times our boat was sabotaged and we were all thrown into the water. In addition to combat with the other boats, we also had to beware of individuals standing on the side of the riverbank spraying us with their water guns. (The people of Sacramento are WILD. That’s what I’ve decided, anyway!) Halfway down the river, after battling some small rapids, we stopped for lunch. I, for one, immensely enjoyed the lunch hiatus. It was great to lay out in the sun, dry myself off and enjoy the summertime breezes.

After lunch, I made sure to crawl inside a “dry boat,” with comrades that weren’t so war-crazed, so I could enjoy peacefully floating down the river without having water sprayed in my face at every turn. Although the Water War was fun, the post-lunch sanity was also nice. Toward the end of our journey, we came upon some multi-million dollar homes perched on cliffs overlooking the river. It was fun to house-watch. And dream . . .

The Etiquette of Dance

After our American River adventure, we came home, ate a quick supper and then headed downtown to go to a contradance I found out about online. When we lived in Virginia I had gone contradancing with friends several times and loved it. As we drove downtown, Kevin reminded me what a favor he was doing in agreeing to go with me and that I should never doubt his love.

We were the only people under the age of fifty at this dance. Most of them were much older than that. Kevin said he really enjoyed the dancing itself, learning all the different formations. He loved the live band, etc. But he hated the “dance etiquette” that dictates that you have to change partners whenever asked. Basically, Kevin hated the fact that all these old men were constantly asking me to dance with them and it would have been “rude” for me to say no. (What could I do? The first guy who asked me was bald except for a long scraggily gray ponytail. He also had big purple beads around his neck and really bad breath. It was very gross, trust me. I kept telling Kevin, “Do you think I wanted to dance with him?”)

Another thing about contradance is that you have to make eye contact with your partner or else you’ll get dizzy. Kevin said it was very weird to have all these strange ladies making eye contact with him while twirling. “Especially when this one elderly Asian lady said ‘Oh, you’re a tall one,’ and started gazing deeply and rolling her eyebrows.”

Back to this whole “dance etiquette” thing . . . Although contradancing is a fun activity in and of itself, one of the primary reasons we went is because we enjoy being together. Our goal of being together was defeated because we were hardly together at all. I guess that was the main frustration. Especially for poor Kev.

If it’s up to me, and I happen upon Kevin in a weak moment, we’ll probably go again – because I had a great time in spite of it all. If it’s up to Kevin, we probably won’t go back. This morning Kevin told his friend (and co-worker) Matt what we did on Saturday night and that I “unfortunately” will probably want to go back sometime. Matt is also married to a strong and energetic woman. I think he and Kevin understand each other and often commiserate at the office. Matt said, “Kevin, my man, it's time to put your foot down.”

No Duckling Left Behind . . .

Yesterday, we were too late for Sunday School and too early for church and so we parked our car at Land Park across from a pond and talked. We were interrupted when we observed a mother duck helping her nine little ducklings across the road, toward the pond. Within seconds we completely forgot our topic of conversation and watched as the mother duck hopped up the curb, onto the grass, leaving the ducklings behind to struggle up the curb on their own. The tiny ducklings kept jumping and jumping, trying to make it. But they kept slamming into the side of the curb and falling down on their backs. It was hysterical to watch them. We felt sorry for the poor creatures. Finally, six of them made it but the three smallest and weakest ducklings were left behind. After about five more minutes of struggle, I turned to Kev and said, “We have to do something to help them.” There was a section of curb that was significantly lower than the rest of the curb and my goal was to help guide the ducklings to that section. The ducklings were terrified of me and kept running past that section of curb. After several minutes of watching my unsuccessful attempts, Kevin joined me and the two of us together were able to guide the ducklings to the right spot. It was very satisfying to see them scurry across the grass to join their mother. It was our good deed for the day! The funny thing is . . . I was mad at Kevin about something (as perfect as he is, can you imagine?!). After working together to help the poor ducklings, my irritation became stupid and insignificant. I never thought I’d be taught a lesson in perspectives from three darned little ducklings!

The Secret Lives of Wives

I just read an interesting (and very disturbing) article explaining that affairs by married women are on the rise. The feminists seem happy that "women have suddenly begun to give themselves the same permission to step over the boundary the way that men have." An example is given of a woman who falls in love with a handsome stay-at-home dad she meets at a playground. "The affair doesn’t last but it gives her the impetus she needs to leave her husband, a weaselly man with a fetish for the underpants of a swinger he met online." Okay . . . the problem I have with this is that it implies that two wrongs make a right. It suggests that if someone else acts wrongly, it gives you the liberty to act badly as well. And then it incorrectly implies that, once you’ve made that decision, all is wonderful in the world.

The article went on to say that one reason women have affairs is that they are overworked and their husbands are "inattentive." And pray tell me, why are feminists "happy" that women are having more affairs if having an affair is the result of being exhausted and in a bad marriage?!! Now, I understand that you people who read my blog are intelligent enough to figure out that feminists absolutely do not look out for the best interests of women. I just pity those who do. Wake up!

This and That

This is why I’m not planning to run for office. Everything you say is broadcast to the entire world. Although, I can’t imagine what possessed Riordan to make these remarks. How stupid can you get?

This morning, I dragged myself out of bed to walk 1.7 miles with Kevin. This is the second time I’ve performed the morning ritual with him. He’s been rather consistent about it for the past few weeks. He tells me that "it takes thirty days to form a good habit and only one day to break it." He would like to walk at least two miles every day but hasn’t found a route near our house that will allow for that. This morning I suggested that he simply zig-zag back and forth across each street. Not only would that help him reach his goal of two miles, it would provide some healthful entertainment for the neighbors. (Wink, wink.) He didn’t seem too thrilled about this idea.

Fourth Festivities

This Independence day, 2004, Kevin started a new Koons family tradition. He said that we should read the Declaration of Independence on every 4th of July because, after all, that’s what the holiday is all about. It’s a very patriotic thing to do.

Last year at this time we were in England and the holiday celebration was nonexistent. (Although we did sing the Star Spangled Banner in our hotel room.) So, this year, we made up for it and celebrated all weekend long. We watched fireworks on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. The most impressive were at CalExpo. Wow. We parked our car at the mall a few hours early and played cards at the food court until it got dark. When we finally walked back to our car, half the population of Sacramento was gathered at their tailgates to await the show. Many of them had brought personal fireworks, purchased at the stands. It was funny to watch certain people set off illegal fireworks (the kind that actually leave the ground) and then run away before the security guards could catch them. It was quite a wild group of people. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a raucous 4th in all my life! (Well, dancing in the rain with Rachelle and Dana in D.C. comes pretty close!) After the show began, it was mesmerizing. It was like one grand-finale after another. They had some fireworks I’d never seen before - fireworks shaped like smiley faces, hearts, Saturn, etc. Tons of different varieties. During the show I noticed several helicopters circling the sky watching the show from above. I think that, sometime in my life, I would like to do that. I have actually seen fireworks shot off beneath me - when I went to the Empire State building several years ago. It’s a totally different perspective. And I have been on a helicopter before - in Mt. Rushmore. But I think it would be cool to combine the two.

Yesterday we went to some friends’ house for a barbecue and swimming. They had some leftover fireworks from the day before that they hadn’t had a chance to shoot off yet. Someone had the bright idea of placing the fireworks on top of a ladder before shooting them off. It made the fireworks seem so much larger and frightening. Several times, those of us in the front row jumped back in terror. But it was a good kind of terror. If terror can be good.

Whoopla

On Friday night we stayed in the dinkiest run-down motel in Redding. It was very comical, now that I look back upon it. The paint was all worn off and the lobby smelled like Indian food. I wanted to go swimming but Kevin didn’t think the pool, situated smack-dab in the middle of the parking lot, was very sanitary. It had little pieces of unidentifiable objects floating in the water. All night long we could hear the people above us because the walls were so thin. And I won’t even begin to tell you about what we think was orange juice, served at continental breakfast. Kevin kept saying he was going to pretend we were camping "so it wouldn’t be so bad."

Lassen Volcanic National Park was very cool. Totally worth the trip. One surprising thing was all the SNOW up there!! It was incredible. One of the trails was closed because of the snow. I wondered when it was open (if not in JULY)! On one hike, we kept getting lost because there were huge mounds of snow covering the trail. Despite the snow, the weather was perfect - warm with cool breezes. We took two different hikes that ended up at different waterfalls. On the first hike, we followed a creek that wound through a meadow. It was very green an lush (with snow in the background!!). The second hike was more arduous. In fact, I told Kevin that I’d never been on a hike before where I walked uphill both there and back! (Obviously this couldn’t possibly be true - but that’s what it seemed!) On the second hike there were fields of yellow wildflowers all across the mountainside. It was quite beautiful. On our drive through the park, there were all sorts of interesting things off the side of the road. At one point we got out of the car to see some boiling mud ponds and sulfur pits spitting steam into the air. The stench was horrible but it was entertaining nonetheless.

On the way back home, I talked Kevin into eating at one of those greasy Chinese buffets. He hates buffets for two reasons, he says: 1) they encourage gluttony and 2) all the food sits out in the open for hours, where little children can come sneeze upon it. And that, he says, is very gross.

Citizenship

Several years ago I visited Ellis Island. While there, I was moved to think about my citizenship. It was easy for me because I became a U.S. citizen by virtue of being born. As I walked through the museum at Ellis Island, my thoughts centered on those who endured trials and hardships to become citizens. I thought of the multitudes in faraway lands who yearned for America, where they could "breathe free" and "pursue happiness." For the lucky few who were able to come to America, the struggle didn’t end upon arrival. The process of becoming a citizen was arduous and difficult. But they persevered. And because of their struggle, they and their posterity have tasted the sweetness of liberty and opportunity. Here is an excerpt of the U.S. Citizenship Test. Take it for the fun of it. I’m happy to report that I got 10 out of 11. (I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember which was the 49th state admitted to the union. Sheesh.) ;)

Happy 4th of July to all of you! Cherish your citizenship.

Thoughts of Tomorrow

All right, Kevin thinks I should remove the link to my sister Christy’s blog (below to the left) because she hasn’t posted anything since December of last year. I am appalled that he should think me so disloyal to my own flesh and blood! (Warning: if you are not related to me and fail to post anything for over six months, I will probably drop you like a hot cake.)

Tomorrow we are planning to go hiking up at Lassen Volcanic National Park. I think that this year will be the "Year of National Parks" for us. You see, when we went to Yosemite in March we bought an annual pass. And, by George, we WILL get our money’s worth. Even if we have to spend a million dollars in gas money in order to get free admission (and save ten bucks!) we darn will. We have plans to visit Sequoia National Park later this month with my parents. So that will be good. And we would have liked to have gone to the Redwoods National Park on the north coast this weekend but we couldn’t find a hotel under a hundred bucks. And spending that much on a hotel would definitely defeat the purpose of saving money with our annual park pass. Argh. Life is so complicated.