The Intelligence And Stupidity Of Spring

Have you noticed your trees, shrubs, and plants perking up after the long winter? Well, some of mine are really stupid.

See that crabapple on the right? It is showing superior intelligence.

stupid crabapple

Here in Boulder, the month of March is generally our snowiest preceding an April where buds burst into brilliant spring color. But March has been warm; warm like May warm. The weather has the first two letters right, but that’s all. It’s the kind of warm that has butterflies bursting out of chrysalises and Boulderites hitting trails in shorts and T-shirts. Grocery stores are sold out of burgers, hotdogs and buns. Okay. I made that up, but it could happen. Continue reading

Twelve Warning Signs The Holidays Have Taken Over

The holidays are never perfect. It’s a hectic time of year and somehow they always take over my life.

Although I dream of a wonderful holiday where everything has been carefully planned and executed. Stockings hang near a roaring fire. Wrapped presents are piled high around a decorated tree. Family and friends gather round the piano and sing while the heavenly aroma of a gourmet dinner cooks in the oven. That never happens.

I’ve compiled a list of warning signs for you!

You know the holidays are taking over your life when:

Every surface in your house is sticky.

It would be easier to move than to clean.

https://31.media.tumblr.com/85813c670a426d8a9a4dc2de4f5a839d/tumblr_inline_n307q0h9o31rt6qr4.gif Continue reading

I Crushed It. Now What Will I Do? I’m Addicted.

I wrote 50,000 words in 23 days to win NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month.

Nanowrimo2014 Yeah baby!

NaNoWriMo2014 1

I happy danced and then cried a little when the NaNoWriMo Team sent a YouTube Video with their congratulations.

nanowrimo 2014 2

Every day in November, I woke up and felt driven. Writing in the morning worked the best for me, but oftentimes I started up again around four O’clockish.  I had to make time for it no matter what was going on. Yesterday, I was less than 2000 words away from my 50,000 word goal, but I went skiing with my husband, Danny, our niece and her boyfriend.

First day at Breck

I wrote on the way down the mountain, (in my car, of course, and no, I wasn’t driving), but I was 800 words shy of the 50,000 word total when we rolled up in Boulder. After writing an average of 2179 words per day, it killed me to be so close, but I had to go to sleep.

Because skiing.

After cranking out a rough draft and working my hiney off every day in November, what will it feel like tomorrow? Continue reading

Get Ready Before It’s Too Late!

sunrise

“Red sky at morning gives sailors first warning.” This photo was taken today!

A blustery Rocky Mountain wind pummeled our house all night and is still thrashing our trees causing their remaining leaves to tumble like autumnal rain. A change in the weather is coming.

Meteorologists have been predicting this storm like salivating dogs staring through the window of a butcher shop, or better yet, like snowbirds drooling over brochures of Mexican cruises. It was in the 70’s yesterday and we’ll plunge to a high of 15 by Wednesday. I have one more day to pick apples, close vents in unused rooms, and get acclimated to winter temps before our first significant snowfall arrives.

Five fast and easy ways to get acclimated before the arctic mass descends from the north. Continue reading

An Open Letter From My Boobs

Dear Susie Lindau,

For thirteen months, we’ve hung out in our new residence behind your pectoral muscles. It has taken us a while to get used to the cramped quarters, but we are adjusting. We understand you are trying to make us feel at home. Although, we totally appreciate the effort, sometimes, you freak us out.

First of all, why do you grab us every time you tell someone about your double boobectomy? The shock alone turns our silicone hearts to ice. One minute we’re chillin’ while you’re yammering on with a friend, an acquaintance, or some random person you just met. Then you snatch us in fists so tight, well, it’s disturbing. We understand you like to talk with your hands, but quit feeling us up.

grabbing my boobs

You are pretty insensitive. We are adopted. We know you miss your old boobs. We will never replace them, but we’re doing our best. Could you at least stop complaining about how weird we feel? You’ve been told the odd feeling will go away. We were there. Remember? Continue reading

Traveling North by Plane, Car, Boat, Bike, Foot, and Hooves

us map

My husband, Danny, and I wrapped up a wild summer filled with travel by heading to Michigan for a wedding. Knowing this would entail a variety of transportation, our children opted out. They couldn’t take the vacation time. After an uneventful flight (Yeah!) from Denver to Detroit, we rented a car and drove up north to the top of the state.

Growing up in the sister state of Wisconsin, “up north,” was synonymous with vacation and cottages on lakes. Now that I think about it, since Madison is located in the southernmost part, almost everywhere in the state is north.

mackinac island

After a four-and-a-half hour drive, we arrived in Mackinaw City. We paid a toll then drove over the longest bridge in the western hemisphere, 8,614 feet long, to St. Ignace. The Mackinac Bridge links the upper and lower peninsulas of Michigan.

bridge

I learned something! Apparently, because Lake Michigan is on the west coast and Lake Huron on the east with the Straits of Mackinac between them, the entire state is a peninsula. The peninsula has a peninsula. I traveled there to ski Indianhead Mountain back in college. We fondly call the U.P. (upper peninsula) inhabitants, Upers which is pronounced – youpers. 

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Obligatory lighthouse photo. Continue reading

The Lost Art of Whistling

The organic use of communication called the whistle has been around for a while. The original tweet probably was expressed by a caveman. He may have accidentally whistled while dashing home for supper. Later, it alerted his clan to imminent danger, meaning, “Dude! Look out for those crazed and hungry mastodons behind you!” Dinosaurs are extinct and the whistle is increasing in rarity.

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When I was a kid, I heard a whistle nearly every day.

My dad loved to imitate birds, even warblers. After hearing one summon a mate from a faraway tree, he would whistle to it for kicks and giggles. It would fly closer and closer. This nasty trick worked best on cardinals. Imagine their disappointment when the poor bird discovered it was only stupid human producing the intoxicating siren call and not a voluptuous feathered friend. Continue reading