Old People Can Be Very Disturbing

Jeff and I went to see Loggins and Messina in concert this weekend. I have a few songs from them, and Jeff decided that it would be fun, so we bought the tickets about two months ago. I haven't been to a concert in over ten years, and, needless to say, I was wholly unprepared for the experience. Sorry to my parents if you are offended by the old people comments. ;)

It was snowing really hard when we left, so we ventured out early. Planning to eat dinner out before the concert, we left the house at around 6pm. The concert was supposed to start at 8pm. Upon traveling to the Paramount Theatre, we discovered that the concert actually started at 7:30. I'm still not back to eating much, though, so dinner went quickly and we were back on the road by 6:45.

We arrived at the parking lot (the parking price was included in the price of the ticket - very nice), and found our way to an empty spot three stories underground. Luckily there were elevators to take us to ground level so we didn't have to walk all the way back up! We made it to the Paramount with 15 minutes or so to spare and found our seats.

Blurry because it was taken by cell phone camera, but it's the view we had of the stage.

Although I was prepared for an older audience, I was amazed to find that there were probably less than ten people under the age of 35 there. Most of the audience was 65 or older, I think, and I have certain expectations of that demographic. Mostly that they get tired easily. Jeff commented that the concert couldn't go too long, as all the old people would fall asleep halfway through.

The Gabe Dixon Band opened the show, which confused us to no end. Our last concert didn't have someone else open - just the group we had paid to watch. So, when they spent 35 minutes playing songs, we questioned whether we were even in the right place. They finally finished their "opening" playing and left the stage. We expected Loggins and Messina to come out right away, but the house lights came on and people started filing out. We wondered if that was the entire concert. Then I realized that people had finished their drinks and were going in search of more alcohol. Joy. Finally, the lights dimmed again and the stars of the night came onto the stage.

The songs started out quite familiar, but after the first three, I didn't recognize any until the second-to-last song. I enjoyed the singing (they even had the audience singing some of the songs), but they also had a ton of instrumental interludes. I didn't enjoy them, as they bordered on jazz-style music. I've never really enjoyed the saxophone, and they had a song with dueling saxophonists that rather grated on my ears. I probably should have gotten up and left for a few minutes, but the thought didn't occur to me until it was over.

The first song was good, as the audience enjoyed it without getting too involved. After that, though, all bets were off. There was one lady who was so drunk that she kept standing up and dancing (to the annoyance of those sitting behind her), and the usher had to tell her to sit down. She tried to get into the aisle to dance but he forced her to sit down. She conceded to the usher and merely sat down and waved her hands in the air. She was far too drunk, though, to have any ability to keep the beat (or maybe she's just not normally good at that), and so her sit-dancing was totally off. I discovered that if I watched her too long, I got motion sick.

I was totally surprised at the audience's reaction to the music. While Jeff and I thought that the older crowd would be boring and tired, they were all dancing. Some got into the aisles, some went up to the front, near the stage, and others just stood at their seats and swayed. Just like the drunk lady, though, it seemed as if everyone fell out of the music tree and hit every "no-beat" branch on the way down, because they were all off. Even those people sitting together couldn't keep in sync with each other. I tried to focus on the stage as much as possible.

Another blurry image to give you an idea of how the show was.

There was a lady sitting next to Jeff who was probably close to 70. She kept using binoculars to see the stage and looked like a nice lady who would be comfortable in a knitting club. It was only after she stood up and started dancing like a maniac and drumming on the seats in front of her that I decided she was Jerry Garcia reincarnated. Poor Jeff almost got elbowed several times and kept inching closer to me to prevent his face from getting hit. I found the whole thing quite amusing until she took off her shirt and danced in a tank top with her hands over her head. That was something I really didn't need to see.

Old people dancing, obscuring our view of the stage. This picture only shows a few people toward the beginning of the show. At the end, the rest of the people were up and dancing, and we had zero visibility.

Overall, it was a good concert. Jeff and I seemed to be the only people who weren't standing, though. I just didn't have the heart to get up and dance (do I ever?), and Jeff didn't want to do it without me. After it was over, we sat and waited for the aisles to clear. People were so reluctant to leave, though, that 25 minutes later, the ushers had to clear everyone out. It was so warm in there that I didn't even put my coat on to leave. It felt great to get outside.

So, despite the average age of the audience members, the only person who got tired and almost fell asleep was me. From my time in the hospital during the past two weeks, I have gotten used to getting to bed around 9:30 and having lights out by 10:30 (hospital rule which I just continued because it's comfortable, though I usually have my lights out by 9:45 or so). Although it was way past my bedtime by the time we left, I stayed awake for the drive home and managed to play a card game with Jeff when we got home.

I had a good weekend.

See? I Told You So.

Just what I predicted. No subtle hints at anything political to warp young minds. Nothing condescending about republicans. It was a great speech and very well done.

Patriotism is Dead

I'm not very political in my daily life. I don't read political editorials, or watch every political speech that is offered. Does that make me a bad citizen? I don't think so. I think it simply implies that I think our government is doing the best they can and that I have more important things to spend my time on. That's why they get paid the big bucks. They can decide things for me and I am okay with that. It's why I live here. I can play in the backyard, go to a movie, or go out to dinner while the leaders of our country make big decisions on how the country is run.

Given that, I am appalled at the repsonse to the proposed speech by President Obama on Tuesday. This man is our country's leader. The main man. The big honcho. He's not some deranged lunatic trying to abduct and rape our kids. He's not pushing drugs on them in some shady alley. He's not going to bombard them with bad language. He simply wants to stand up before the school children of the U.S. and tell them to stay in school. He won't talk in adult terminology. He's a dad of school-aged kids himself. He know how to communicate his ideas to the younger generation. In fact, he's young enough to almost be considered the younger generation himself!

I am not expecting him to make a major political stand here. He's just going to show kids of today that if you stay in school and study, you can become whatever you want (just look at him - he did quite well in that regard). While children are easily taught, I highly doubt that he's going to explain the recession or bailout reasonings to them. At most, I might expect ot hear him say that since families don't have as much money now, it would very patriotic of the kids to not ask their parents for every last item in the store!

The ability for the president to address the citizens of the nation (and yes, our children are citizens, although not old enough to vote) should fall under the First Amendment. If the leader of our country doesn't have the right to speak his mind, no one should. Yes, his comments should be censored - he shouldn't be able to say anything. Bad language or immoral concepts should not be allowed in his presentation. But what he says shouldn't be censored any more than any TV show that we allow our kids to watch. If our kids watch the Super Bowl with us and see unintended flesh on the musical performers, or watch several of the shows that, as of late, have failed at beeping out the F-word, we shouldn't have any issues with them watching a speech by the president.

Jeff mentioned that our schools show all sorts of things to our kids. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s speech. The Gettysburg address. While these are historic events and often contain elements that mean nothing in today's society, we still obviously get something out of them, otherwise they wouldn't be discussed in school. Our new president is trying to leave his mark on the school kids - by the time he goes up for reelection, some of them will be old enough to vote.

Supposedly several presidents addressed students when I was in school. I don't remember any of their speeches. I think that most kids don't pay that much attention. I feel that this tizzy that the country is in over the impending speech is wasted effort.

That's my say. I'll likely post again when the speech has been given with an "I told you so" response. :)

I've Been a Bad Blogger

Okay? I admit it. I'm not holding up my end of the blogging deal. I write the blog, you read the blog. That's the deal. Since I haven't written in a while, you haven't been able to read. I'm sorry.

We went to Nauvoo, IL for a vacation in June. I've been trying to blog about it but I have so many pictures and so little inclination to work on it that I've just put it off. I will try to get to it (soon, or possibly at all). If I don't, just know that we went, had a blast, and saw lots of really cool things that you won't. Sorry. But hopefully I'll get to it.

School's Out!

Jordan has finally finished his first year of middle school. Although he just started at the school this year, he went out of his way and applied to (and got accepted!) a gifted and talented school for next year, so he'll be switching schools again.

Here's what I hope Jordan learned during his 6th grade year:

- Doing your homework when you get home is better than putting it off

- Working slowly on a long-term project makes it much easier than doing it all at once the night before it's due

- A due date isn't just a "recommendation" from the teacher - it's when the assignment should be in the teacher's hand

- Accompanying a friend who is involved in drugs to meet "a group of guys in a truck" is probably a really bad idea (good thing those plans fell through!)

- Getting your parents to sign a required form is essential to getting good grades

- A black shirt rarely, if ever, looks good with midnight blue shorts

- Wearing a watch isn't considered "un-cool"

- Carrying a wallet with almost $100 in slippery-pocketed pants is a really bad idea, and we are extremely thankful that the bus driver is more ethical than any middle schooler would be

- Staying organized is the very best way to maintain good grades

Here's what I learned during Jordan's 6th grade year:

- Although I threaten not doing so at the beginning of every school year, I am always going to help with homework and projects

- He's better at remembering some things than I thought

- He needs to be reminded to write down homework instructions, not try to remember all of them in his head

- I should be more attentive of school work every day, and require him to show me his work, not just accept his word

- I must step back and let him fail every now and then so he realizes the importance of doing well

- I need to stop trying to change who he is and accept that the friends he has he gets by being himself - they wouldn't be his friends if they didn't like him!

- I should consider "forcing" him to join activities outside of school - he always likes things once he tries them, but won't try them without a nudge (or a threat)

- I realize that he's a smart kid, who is good in every subject. He has my spelling/language abilities, Jeff's math abilities (and beyond), and his own science, geography, musical, and physical education abilities. I keep thinking he's behind on things, but I've realized that I think of him as older. When I compare him to other kids his age, he's far advanced. It's his height and deep voice that throw me off. He towers over his classmates, and his voice is, I think, deeper than Jeff's now.

I hope that he had an excellent year and that his 7th grade year will be even better. Good luck in the difficult, but totally worth it, Quest Academy, Jordan! We're proud of you!

Happy Birthday, Jeff!

We celebrated Jeff's birthday on May 30, which conveniently fell on a weekend and he had the day off. We had a great day, starting with a yummy breakfast for Jeff (I didn't screw it up this year, as I normally do), opening some presents, and playing games, watching movies, and spending the day as a family. We ended with a nice dinner at his favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. Overall it was quite a fun day. He got a new watch, a new pair of sunglasses, and some other odds and ends that he's been wanting or needing. He seemed satisfied with his haul. While I didn't take any pictures of the day's events, and therefore don't have any to post here, I do want to wish him the best of luck in his new year. :)

Bill Maher

We got tickets to see Bill Maher's stand-up comedy show in Boulder on Saturday, May 2. Thinking we would make a slight vacation out of it, we asked Jeff's parents to have Jordan stay with them that night and we headed to Boulder earlier in the day.

We arrived in Boulder around lunchtime and set out to find a place to eat. We parked on the Pearl Street Mall and walked around for a while before settling on The Cheesecake Factory. We both had their lunch-sized salads (which were far bigger than any dinner-sized salad I've ever seen - I can't imagine what their dinner-sized portion is like!) and a slice of cheesecake. Yummy. Throughout lunch we pondered why Boulder drivers are unable to stop at the stop sign sitting outside our window. We saw more than a hundred cars go by and yet only three or four actually came to a full and complete stop. Some cars did a bit late - usually because someone was crossing the street and they were forced to stop. But most just slowed (slightly) and sailed right through. We considered notifying the police that they might want to set up a little watch there, but then we saw several police cars run the sign. That's when we decided that the people of Boulder run the stop signs because that's what they see the cops do. Oh well. No one got hurt in the making of this lunchtime activity.

After lunch we walked around the mall for a while, looking for a nice little shop that sold jewelry. I wanted a necklace that I could wear to nice places (most of my current necklaces are from younger years and are somewhat strange and not what I generally wear to a nice restaurant or other grown-up location). I didn't want a fancy diamond necklace that could double as a house payment. Just a nice, not-so-childish bauble. We found Bolder World, which carries a variety of jewelry (almost handcrafted in their looks) and some Boulder-ish clothing (not my style by any stretch of the imagination). I selected a nice heart necklace, and also found some fun earrings that almost matched the necklace. For my purposes, they were close enough.

Walking along the mall, we saw a lot of interesting people. Mostly small groups of musicians playing for the crowds. One outdoor entertainer we saw (and didn't think to take a picture of... but I found some on Flickr) was completely painted & dressed like a bronze cowboy and was so still we stood and tried to figure out why there was a bag of money at the feet of this statue. Upon a (slightly) closer inspection, we found his eyes following our movement and knew he was real and watched him for a bit longer. After the initial shock of seeing his eyes move, he was great fun. He did break form once, when someone asked him to pose for a picture with her. Other than that, it was difficult to tell that he wasn't a permanent fixture.

We'd made reservations at the lovely St. Julien Hotel & Spa as it was the only hotel we could find that had room service (one of the perks of staying at a hotel) and wasn't a bed & breakfast. The hotel was completely smoke-free (yay!) and in good condition. Aside from some road construction on some of the roads nearby, we had no trouble finding it.

Upon entering our room, we found this:

So far, we were pleased with the room. Then we checked out the bathroom:

I didn't take any pictures of the little room with the toilet. It was just a toilet in a white room. Joy.

After the quick tour, we settled down to see what the TV had to offer and just verify it worked as designed before we wanted to really watch it. We've had plenty of hotels where the TV didn't work properly and didn't know it until we had paid for a movie. The basic channel features were there, as well as some nifty music (with a variety of music-themed visualizations). You could choose from new age music (meh) or classical music (yay!). They had a wonderful selection and we set it to play while we checked out the balcony.

The balcony looked down on the hotel entrance (we opted for a non-mountain facing room. We've seen the mountains and don't need to pay extra for them). We listened to our music while watching cars and people come and go. Then we looked at the clock.

The show started at 8:00pm and it was 7:25. Yikes! We knew that it was located somewhere on the CU campus, but weren't sure where the auditorium was. We flipped open the phone book to see if there might be a handy map of the university campus, but to no avail. So we checked to see if the auditorium had its own listed address. Nope. It was 7:30 now and we were beginning to panic. Nothing major, just a slightly more rushed feeling. We decided to ask at the front desk and headed downstairs with our tickets.

We asked at the front desk for directions to the campus (and the auditorium). The clerk didn't know and passed our request along to the concierge. He started to give instructions, but then said that the only place to park on the campus is really far from the auditorium and that it would be faster if we got a ride in the free hotel shuttle. We agreed, only to have him tell us that the shuttle works on a first-come-first-serve basis and that there were several groups ahead of us. By this time it was 7:40. We were quickly becoming flustered.

It was about this time that we were standing in the valet's little section (between the doors leading into the hotel lobby and the doors leading outside the hotel). We didn't want to blend in with the surroundings and have anyone forget about us! So, we were trying to be as in-the-way as possible. However, we were doing too good of a job of sticking out - we were standing in front of one of the doors leading outside (they were double doors, so a single person had no trouble getting past us but a larger group would be forced to go single-file). I noticed a limo parked outside and, thinking it was a permanent form of transportation for the hotel, I considered asking if we could just pay up the wazoo and go in that (a 10-minute limo ride wouldn't cost too much, would it?) but decided not to ask.

The concierge then asked if we would be interested in a taxi to take us there. I asked him how long it would take for a taxi to get to the hotel, but the guy misheard me and thought I agreed, so he dashed off to call a taxi. We waited and waited. The hotel shuttle came back and parked (seemingly for good). Still no taxi.

As we stood there wondering why we hadn't just walked and made it there with time to spare (the campus was advertised as only a 5-minute walk away from the hotel, which I correctly translated to be a Boulder 5-minute walk, not a normal person's 5-minute walk), I noticed that a large group of people were heading from the elevators toward us (on their way to leave the hotel through the very area that we were taking up). There were four or five people in this group and I surmised that they may prefer to use both doors to exit, so I reached for Jeff to pull him closer and more out-of-the-way so the group could move by us. That's when I glanced at the faces of the group and just about passed out.

Passing not even out of arm's reach was Bill Maher. My Bill. My t-shirt- & jeans-wearing, hair-combed-straight-back, half-smiling, short Bill. Wait - short?!? I always thought he was much taller, but sure enough, IMDB shows that he's only 5'8". Still, I couldn't take my eyes off of him, let alone grab Jeff to move him out of the way (Jeff's back was to the door so he didn't even notice the dilemma). When I found my voice I mumbled to Jeff that Bill was walking by, and Jeff turned just in time to see the back of Bill's head. Better than nothing, I suppose. Poor Bill probably walked past us wondering why the rude people wouldn't move out of the way. Oh well.

Bill and company then walked directly to the limo and climbed in. On the tip of my tongue (but not the tip of my courage), I had the question formed: "Could we hitch a ride with you, since we're all heading to the same place?" I was unable to bring myself to grovel, though, and merely stood there and watched the only transportation I knew heading to the CU campus pull away from the hotel.

At 7:50 we asked the concierge where the taxi was coming from and he panicked and called them back only to discover that they are dispatched out of Denver. Agh!

Finally a valet jumped to our aid and asked if we would like him to drive us there in our car. This seemed like a decent thing to do, since we had intended to drive in our car in the first place. He said that the shuttle would be able to give us a ride back after the show (when timing wasn't so critical). We agreed to this and headed to the garage to get our car. As we were waiting for the elevator, the valet came running up to us and asked if we would be willing to accept 2 more people on the journey. We said that was fine and bustled off to get the car.

We pulled up to the valet circle and the valet and other couple got in. I swear, this guy must have a second job as a taxi driver. He was so wild and reckless (and thankfully wreckless!) that I was certain we would get into a huge accident. I'm sure it didn't help things that I was in the front seat with him and could see everything he was doing wrong, like speeding, driving without a seatbelt, taking corners too quickly, and turning in front of fast-approaching oncoming traffic. But we made it to the auditorium and he had to explain to the attendant that he was only dropping us off, not parking (and hence we shouldn't have to pay for parking).

We got to the drop-off point at Macky Auditorium and didn't hesitate to throw ourselves out of the car, not even remembering to pay the poor valet who just sacrificed his life (and ours) to get us there. But we had his name and knew that he was getting off his shift at midnight, so we would see him again later (and get a valet ticket from him). We charged up the stairs, and the lady from the other couple who rode with us handed me a $10 bill to cover the cost of their ride, knowing we would have to pay the valet. I thought that was very nice.

We entered the auditorium, showed our tickets, and were ushered to our seats. The time was now 8:10pm. Bill wasn't on stage yet - yay! We made it! Here's a picture of the inside, and I circled roughly where we sat. Jeff had no problems seeing the stage, but I had someone in front of me who continually shifted from left to right, forcing me to imitate him in the opposite direction. We likely made any observers seasick.

The intelligent person that I am, I had ordered our tickets so that we were sitting in the aisle seats. This was marvelous, since we didn't have to step on everyone's toes to get to our seats.

It was 8:15 when Bill stepped onto the stage. Everyone cheered, and some people gave him a standing ovation. I wasn't sure why, since he hadn't done anything for us yet except take money for the tickets we all paid so we could see him. If anything, I felt he should be applauding us at the beginning of the show! He actually did do this a bit, by beginning his comedy with a "thanks for coming out to see me, especially risking the swine flu which is in such abundance and the ecomony going to the pits!" sort of comment.

His entire routine was good. There were some jokes I had heard before from him, but they were good the second time. :) I enjoyed his newer jokes. There were at least two interruptions from people in the audience. One guy shouted out that Bill should do some Boulder jokes. This completely threw Bill off his routine and he said that he didn't know any Boulder jokes, adding that the interruption "really added a lot to the night" making the audience laugh. Another guy tried to make a Sarah Palin joke to fit in with something Bill said. Bill made a comment about being paid for his work and actually spending time writing his jokes, implying that this guy was a moron who didn't spend any time on the joke and shouldn't attempt to make it his day job. Yay for Bill.

The rest of the show was great, with lots of laughter and applause. We fell in line with the rest of the audience and filed out of the building. Just outside we found the hotel's shuttle parked, waiting for guests to board. We climbed on, and a few more guests boarded and the shuttle pulled away, heading back to the hotel.

Upon our arrival, we took our belongings back to our room, then sought out the valet who had driven us to the show. We found him, gave him a tip, and got our valet ticket. We then returned to our room and watched some TV before turning in for the night. The bed was extremely comfortable and I didn't wake up at all before morning (an unusual thing for me in a hotel). Here's our room, looking out over the grounds:

In the morning, we ordered breakfast, which was quite good, and set about checking out. We made our room passes, clearing it of our belongings, then checked out in the lobby, collected our car from the valet, and drove home.

The mini-vacation was fun, relaxing, and thoroughly enjoyable. We look forward to taking more of them in the future. :)

Doctor Check-Up at 146 Months :)

Jordan had a doctor visit today. Technically, this is his 146-month check-up. Silly. I miss counting his age in months.

Anyway, in a throwback to his younger years, I thought I'd post his stats like I would if he was still a baby:

• Height: 64.75 inches (>97%)
• Weight: 127 lbs (97%)
• BMI: 21% (86%)
• Blood Pressure: 110/70 (perfect)
• He no longer gets his head measured, so I can only guess that he's got an average-sized noggin

He also got 5 immunization shots and didn't have any problems. It was nice to not have to hold him to the table. :) He went outside and played basketball after we got home. We'll see if he gets any muscle aches or a fever. 

From a Noun to an Adjective...

We recently saw Bill Maher in a live performance. I know that people are eager to find out more about that experience, and I promise that I will be posting that soon.

But in the meantime, I had to express my thoughts on a realization I recently had. All of his life, Jordan has been in the front of our minds. Everything we do, everywhere we go, and everything we say is well thought out ahead of time to ensure that it is proper for him to experience.

Given that we're always thinking of him, I realized how it is that we go about making sure that the experience will be decent: we use the term "Jordanable" when referencing the activity. As in, "is this restaurant Jordanable?" or "I don't think this show is Jordanable". This could relate to what food is served in a restaurant (if he doesn't like the general type of food, then it's not a Jordanable restaurant), the material in a show (nudity is not Jordanable), or the general topic of a location (Disney is technically Jordanable, but he hates Disney stuff so we'd say it's not Jordanable).

Anyway, it's not a major post, but I found it amusing. I was thinking about if someone were to read my chat out of context and wonder what "Jordanable" meant. I guess his name has gone from only being a noun to also being an adjective.

We have tons of other phrases that we use from Jordan's little-kid days. For example:

• Ooshes (shoes)
• Ickidikidah (kitty cat)
• Ticko (tickle - his first word)
• La-La Oh-Oh (Law & Order)
• Diah Mono (Diagnosis Murder)
• Mono She Wrote (Murder She Wrote)

I realize that the last three are all TV shows. You can tell what my hobby was back when he was toddling around. :) To this day, we use these terms for their normal, everyday counterparts. Who would want to watch Law & Order when you can watch La-La Oh-Oh? Or wear shoes, when you can be daring and wear ooshes? LOL - the former words just seems so plain and boring!

To his credit, Jordan refuses to use his versions of words. He mocks us when we do it. ;)

Knock-knock... Who's There?

Domestic bliss. As a stay-at-home-mom-turned-stay-at-home-wife, I love having the house to myself during the day. I do some work. I do less-than-sufficient housework. I blop a lot (blog hop). I spend endless hours on Facebook, and I am far too easily distracted by anything having to do with Bill Maher. I love my life.

With my happy lifestyle, I only grudgingly give up any of my time to anything other than what I want to do.

For example, I never answer the door unless I know who it is and am expecting that person. If it is a delivery, such as from UPS or FedEx, I wait until the driver is gone before I collect the package. If it's a door-to-door salesperson, I will not budge. Jordan never has friends come over without calling first, so I'm safe there. Suffice it to say, if I am not expecting you, you will end up standing there forever and ever because I refuse to answer the door.

I also never answer the phone unless I feel that there's something important involved. If someone really wants to reach me, they should chat, as nature intended. If it's a particularly long discussion, feel free to use e-mail. I am online all the time and will generally respond to an e-mail within five minutes. Phone calls are too sudden and I am horrible at speaking. I prefer to spend time gathering my ideas, writing, reading, editing, rewriting, and rereading something before allowing my audience to see it. Phone calls don't allow this convenience. Things can get out of hand so quickly on the phone. Or you end up talking to someone you didn't want to talk to in the first place. I feel that the world would be better off had Alex Bell and his creativity not existed. 

I know, my life is so exotic and important that I choose to ignore people. Nice, huh? But I digress.

Enter my nemesis. Ever since we moved into our house, I have been plagued by a hammering noise. For the first few months, I assumed that we had a neighbor who was involved in construction. Or carpentry. Or just some home repairs. But this hammering noise continued all day long for months. I would look out various windows, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. It was fairly loud, leading me to believe that I should be able to see the culprit easily from at least one window in the house. Alas, it was not to be. Not once in my furtive glances did I spy the evil hammer-wielder.

However, I was able to discern that the hammering noise was louder at the back of the house, so I focused my attention and energy there. I would sit outside on the patio, waiting to hear the hammering noise. It would never happen when I was outside. I thought that maybe we had an overly courteous hammering neighbor, who would simply stop their work while I was outside, as I appeared to be enjoying a lovely day but was in reality circumspectly attempting to track down the evil-doer. When I'd retreat back inside, the hammering would start up again within five minutes. I was coming unglued.

The hammering would sometimes occur when Jeff or Jordan were there, but they never seemed to mind. Maybe it sounded like the slight ticking of a clock to them. To me, it was like Big Ben chiming in my head. I never could understand their dismissal of the sound. Sure, they heard it, which was wonderful news to me, indicating I hadn't completely lost it. But it just didn't phase and haunt them as it did me.

I gave up on trying to find the source of the hammering. I distracted myself by trying to watch TV in the middle of the day, with the sound really loud. The shows were entertaining, but that hammering just continued. I tried listening to music with headphones. Fun music, but my ears easily get tired of wearing headphones and I have to take them off. More hammering. We got aquatic turtles, in a tank, with loud water. The splashing water just added to my frustration rather than eliminated it.

The hammering continued on and on.

I did discover that since the sound stopped when I was outside, the culprit was sensitive to sound or movement. So, I got in the habit of making noise when I'd hear the hammering start up. I'd run to the back door and open it as loud as I could (sliding doors don't make much noise, but I tried). Or I'd just walk outside. Or I'd go to Jordan's bedroom window and attempt to make a loud noise by opening and closing it (again, not as loud as I'd hoped). But usually the noise did the trick and I would have some peace and quiet for about 15 minutes before I had to go make more noise.

Then, after living in our house for about a year, I finally managed to uncover my suspect: in the course of making noise one day, a woodpecker flew away from the house. Apparently Woody perches on an exterior vent to the attic, tirelessly breaking into our house. He never submitted an application for rent. He doesn't take the trash out. He doesn't pitch in to help pay for groceries. He's like a friend your child brings home who mooches off of you until you kick him out. His "music" keeps my nerves ragged, but there he was, squatting in my house. And not merely squatting. As far as I know, the typical squatter doesn't want you to know they are there. Woody had no gumption about making a ruckus and telling me to shove it.

Well, I decided that since he was most of the way through the wooden slat to the attic, he would soon make it all the way through, and then he could just move in and be quiet. Silly me. I somehow thought that he had some normal bird purpose in his mind. It turned out that he's an evil woodpecker, set on world domination and sending people to the crazy farm.

He made it through the wood slat, but didn't stop his daily drum practice. He started a lovely new hole, right next to the original one. So my hammering never stopped. I never get a break from trying to make noise to scare him off.

Having done some research, I've learned that woodpeckers are on some weird Colorado endangered list. Not because they are endangered; rather because they are non-migratory birds. I guess if they don't go anywhere else (I've noticed this...), we'll never get a decent selection of them. I don't want them, though. In a cartoon on Saturday morning? Sure thing! But in my house on Saturday morning? Go away! So, with their "listed" status, killing them is illegal and therefore not an option.

So, what's a person to do when they can't just exterminate their home-invading nemesis? Well, it seems that loud noises scare them. Duh. I figured that out. However, do I want to set up some automatic noisemaker in an attempt to replace the head-splitting hammering combined with house destruction with another recurring noise just to deter the original noisemaker? That doesn't seem helpful.

Woodpeckers are also bothered by movement. I noticed this, too. I'm well on my way to becoming an ornithologist. Putting a shiny mobile of some sort near the woodpecker's preferred knocking place is an easy way to startle him. Hm. It's a good idea, but I have no idea where to find said shiny mobile, nor a decent way to mount it to the inside corner where the eave slopes.

Putting something over the perching point is another way to force your unwanted housemate to move on. Stretching some fishing line just near enough to the actual footing location is enough to prevent the woodpecker from alighting and pestering you all day long.

This last one is the one we will try. I hope our ladder is long enough to reach that high. I hope that the fishing line actually works and Woody finds another place to peck. We will also need to fix the entire vent, and possibly clean out the attic.

But maybe, just maybe, I can return to my domestic bliss.

Q: When should soda be a five-finger discount?A: When you don't have five fingers to pick it up...

Envision this, and if you're squeamish, just gloss over the last few pics:

A loving husband makes dinner on a Friday night. Mmmm... porcupine meatballs. Yummy! They tasted great, Jeff!

Smoky, the adorable cat, sits on the 12-year-old's lap while he tries to eat. Smoky, we love you, but it turns out that you're too distracting!

Jordan has to let the food cool down for a fairly long time, and when he checks to see if his food is cool enough to eat (it turns out that it wasn't), instead of getting it in his mouth, he drops it straight onto the cat in his lap.

Smoky, now covered in piping-hot meatballs and tomato-based sauce, does her quantum-kitty thing and goes from being in Jordan's lap to being on the floor near the stairs. There was no flight or motion - one moment she was on Jordan's lap and the next she was at the stairs. This is what typically happens with her when she's scared, which is why we call it the quantum-kitty thing. We should have named her Schrödinger...

When Jeff and I realized the unfortunate situation we were all in, Jeff sprang up to help clean Jordan, while I attempted to grab the cat to prevent her from running across the house flinging sauce all the way. Jeff was much more successful than I was.

I ended up chasing Smoky up the stairs and into our bedroom before I grabbed her and pinned her to the bathroom counter and cleaned her off. The cleanup was good, but it came too late. She had already dripped the sauce all over the carpet at the base of the stairs, then got it on our bedroom wall when she ran through. Yuck. I still need to clean the wall.

Jeff got Jordan new clothes and helped clean up Jordan's seat and get him some new food. Then he proceeded to arrange for a carpet cleaning. Apparently carpet cleaning companies are doing as poorly in this economy as all other businesses, because they were prompt and arranged a cleaning for the weekend. Yay!

So... fast-forward to the day the carpet cleaner is supposed to come. Being overly tired for no good reason, I slept in quite a bit. Jeff got up at a fairly reasonable time and was all ready, but needed help moving the furniture from the living room into the kitchen. I got up and helped him, and we even got Jordan's help! Hooray for kids (well, kid).

The carpet cleaner called about 20 minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, saying that he would be early. Nice, fast service, but we still needed to vacuum! So Jeff ran upstairs, got the vacuum, and started vacuuming while Jordan and I finished moving the furniture. Jeff got about half the floor done before the guy arrived.

So, the guy came in and started his preliminary work of finding various stains and determining how bad they are (using a really weird stain-o-meter thing). Leaving Jeff to discuss the strategy of cleaning carpets, I snuck to the refrigerator to get a drink. After grabbing a Mountain Dew (yummy breakfast...), I realized that we didn't really have a decent selection there and refilled the cream soda stash from above the fridge. 

So, now the fridge was fully stocked with cream soda. However, the other column for cans was still completely empty. What do you do when you are out of drinks? Look on top of the fridge, of course!

Hm. Only water and cream soda. This required a garage run. Since you can see the top of the garage door in the picture (it's white, just above the right side of the fridge), I didn't have far to go. Jeff was having an excellent conversation with the carpet cleaner about 10 feet behind me.

Yay! I moved toward the door, opened it, and looked into the garage.

So far, so good. However, upon reaching the first wooden step (we now have a massive ongoing debate over how many steps there are here - I say 3; Jeff and Jordan both say 2), I stepped funny and twisted my ankle, calling for an imminent fall onto concrete.

A split-second decision made me realize that hitting cold, hard concrete would not be the proper way to start the day. I flailed, probably looking a lot like a newborn bird trying to take flight. Luckily there was no one watching. Or maybe it was not so lucky - they may have reached out to catch me.

I reached for anything I could find to prevent me from experiencing a short drop and a sudden stop, knowing I would probably be knocked unconscious if I actually hit ground.

Luck be with me! I found something to hold on to! The previous owners had a dog, and they installed a pet door in the door to the garage, which we have the insert in to prevent Smoky from using it. Wonderful for the dog. Not so wonderful for me...

Somehow, in all my ridiculous flailing, I managed to snag the edge of the sharp metal. It helped me regain my balance just enough to prevent me from experiencing an unsatisfying splat. However, that good luck was also bad luck, in that the metal sliced me open. While standing there at the bottom of the stairs (which I mysteriously traversed in the normal fashion, not as gravity wanted me to), I glanced at my hand. I shouldn't have looked. I had blood running down several fingers and a bunch of now-unused skin all over my middle finger. I was feeling fine before checking my hand. Now it was a good thing I hadn't eaten anything yet...

I stood there for a moment, debating whether I should still grab any drinks, as was my intention when I set out on this little adventure. I opted not to, as I could feel the blood draining from my head to my feet and I didn't want to have to clean up a bunch of soda from the floor when I dropped it on my way inside. Trust me, if you know my luck, all 12 cans would have burst open and we would have had sticky soda all over everything. 

I managed to get back inside without passing out, grabbed my unopened Mountain Dew from the counter and walked over to where Jeff was still talking with the carpet cleaner. They were deep in discussion about the cause of a particular stain. By this time I was really going into shock (I'm such a wuss) and I was beginning to sweat like I was the star athlete in the 4th quarter of some major game trying to make the final score to move the team past a tie. Or maybe a dinosaur was chasing me. Whatever the case, I held the can to the back of my neck and it felt marvelous. I longed for a giant can to climb into. But I had to make do with the one can.

Jeff and the carpet guy were going on and on. I held my hand behind my back (hopefully not dripping blood on myself and the kitchen floor), hoping the carpet guy would move out of my way. I really didn't want either of them to see my hand; I was sure they would both overreact if they did. I tried to encourage the end of the conversation by stating that the original stain came from the cat, but the larger stain was from us trying to clean up. No one seemed to wonder why I had my soda on my neck... or why my hand was behind my back. But the guy wouldn't move, and I wasn't about to push past him, as he was spread out on the floor, taking up the entire space in front of me. It isn't a big area, as you can see here. With a wall on each side of the camera, he was firmly planted like the horizontal bar of the letter H:

I made some comments about how we tried so hard to clean the carpet ourselves, but it made things worse than they were, and finally the carpet guy was satisfied with that stain and he stood up. He got his laser measurer out and began measuring the room. This allowed me some space to move from the kitchen to the stairs. I turned to Jeff and said, "I have to go upstairs." He seemed surprised and asked why? Later he told me that he thought I had to hurry to the bathroom (I was fairly pale) and that was what my rush was about. I wish. I showed him my hand and he just gulped and nodded. He didn't even have the presence of mind to ask what happened. (Note: Jeff has informed me that he didn't lack the presence of mind to ask what happened. Instead, he saw the severity of the wound, combined with my ashen palor, and decided that any attempt at conversation would just end badly for all participants, and simply ushered me upstairs.) He also later told me that he thinks I am a great actress, to be able to pull off the hiding-of-the-bloody-hand stunt and not have either of them notice.

I calmly walked up the stairs, went to the linen closet (which is also where we store our first aid stuff), and was in the process of getting the Neosporin and an entire box of Band-Aids when Jordan stepped out of his room to talk to me. I don't know why he chose to do that. He never does it any other time when I'm standing there, and this was one time I didn't want him to! Knowing that he inherited my squeamishness in emergency situations, I was fairly certain that he would pass out. Or throw up. Or both. But, he looked at my hand, asked what happened, said some sympathetic things, and returned to his room, none the worse. In the midst of losing blood, seeing black spots, hearing the blood rush in my ears, and being incredibly light-headed, I stood there amazed at his new-found resiliency.

I then took my precious first aid supplies to my bathroom, turned on the cold water, plunged my hand in, and laid my head on my other arm. It felt like an hour that I stayed in that position, but it was probably no more than 10 minutes. Jeff came in and checked on me, asking all the right questions about what had happened. Telling him that I did this while falling down the stairs seemed silly, but I wasn't creative enough to change the story to make me seem more heroic...

"There was a minor earthquake and your grandmother's fine china fell out of the cupboard and I managed to save it, but I broke a regular drinking glass in the process and it sliced me open. But I saved the china!"

No?

"While I was in the garage getting some drinks, a child was riding her bike in the street and would have been hit by a car had I not intervened and injured myself for her safety."

Probably not something I would do...

"My wedding ring fell into the sink while the disposal was running and I was so intent on saving the beautiful token of our marriage that I didn't think of the risk to myself."

This is one of the reasons I rarely wear my wedding ring - too many bad images of garbage disposals, toilets, poopy diapers, etc.

So, having a severe lack of creativity, and knowing that Jeff would never believe a silly heroic story anyway, I told the truth. 

"I was trying to get more drinks for the fridge from the garage, stepped wrong going down the stairs, twisted my ankle, and sliced my hand open on the pet door."

I'm not sure he believed this, either. But by this time, I didn't really care. I was rather pleased to have my hand fairly numb (no stinging anymore, just throbbing). I just wanted to keep my hand under the water and have my head on my other arm.

Jeff kept asking me if I hit my head when I fell. I kept responding that I didn't actually fall. For some reason, neither of us could move past this issue. We repeated this line of question and answer over and over. He finally pointed to my head and said, "is that what happened to your head when you fell?" I looked, and sure enough, I had a giant red mark across my forehead. Fortunately, it was from laying on my arm on the bathroom counter for 10+ minutes, not from a kiss from the concrete in the garage.

I then attempted to turn off the water so I could dry up and put my bandages on. Jeff wouldn't let me. He grabbed my wrist and said, "you have to remove the dead skin or it won't heal properly." I told him it wasn't dead skin, but he persisted. He finally found some tweezers in the drawer and came at me. I screamed and flailed some more (apparently I'm more of a flailer than I knew...).

Well, dancing around the bathroom, losing blood, and still in shock, I was unable to keep my distance from Jeff and his evil tweezers. I resigned myself to putting my hand back under water and my head back on my arm. He was extremely gentle, but it wasn't completely painless... I felt the sting as he ripped off the flesh from my body. Okay, as he gently tugged the small amount of dead skin from my finger. But it felt more like I was being quartered... I'm surprised that Jordan, the carpet guy, and the neighbors didn't all call 911, as I was carrying on like I was being fed into a wood chopper! Or like a child getting a bandage ripped off.

Jeff finally finished his evil torture, I got my hand dried off, Jeff got the Neosporin and various Band-Aids on it (on my thumb and middle finger), and I promptly began to black out. I made it to the bed and Jeff turned the fan on and opened the window. This helped a lot. He got me my book (I still love my Kindle), turned the light on, and left to check on the carpet guy, who was doing an amazing job that I really didn't care about at that point in time.

When Jeff checked on me, I requested some pain medicine. Not wanting to go downstairs and step on the carpet while the guy was working, Jeff got me some Ecotrin from his side of the bed to soothe the pain. I took the pills, joking that it's a good thing I'm not a hemophiliac, as Ecotrin is a blood thinner. Little did I know that this would still prevent decent clotting, and ended up having to change Band-Aids a few hours later as I had begun to bleed through my originals...

By this time my hand was feeling a bit better in the actual cut areas. However, my ring finger was sore and stiff. My right shoulder, elbow, and wrist were sore and stiff. My right hip, knee, and ankle were sore and stiff. This was turning into a full-fledged war wound! I guess the body really fully reacts during self-preservation. I was exhausted, recuperating, and still had no food in me. Jeff brought me some crackers and a plate so I could have something. I ate some, trying to keep my ring finger moving, and then fell asleep. This was good for me. Bad for my ring finger.

When I awoke, Jeff and I discussed dinner options, and we were reminded of a movie promise we made each other a few weeks ago. So I found out where and when Monsters vs. Aliens (the IMAX one) was playing, and we set out to go see it. It was great fun. However, my hand still hurt. My hip and knee were feeling much better, but my ankle, shoulder, elbow, and wrist were still easily aggravated (but none of the pain was constant, as it was in my hand).

Fast-forward again to the next day. My hip, knee, and ankle are all feeling just fine. My right shoulder is stiff, but no longer sore. My elbow only hurts when I twist my arm. My wrist is fine, but the palm of my hand feels bruised (but looks fine). My ring finger is all swollen (making it tough to type), my thumb seems to be on its way to a decent healing job, but my poor middle finger is just gross. The lower, smaller cut will heal okay. But the larger wound is just yucky. Not only is it still open and raw, but it's somewhat swollen and has a deep bruise developing beneath the actual cut. But hopefully, with some care and time, it will heal just fine.

Apparently it's not easy to take a picture of one's dominent thumb. I probably took over 12 shots and this is the best I could get! The wound is actually longer than what it appears to be in the picture, but it healed a lot overnight. There's still a faint red streak extending to the edge of my thumb.

This one is just gross, and you can even see the blood still under my fingernail. I hope it heals okay. You can see how swollen my ring finger is getting. It still hurts a lot!

I later found this picture I took where my thumb is easier to see than my finger, although I was trying to get my finger... As you can see, it's healing quite well. 

Thanks to Jeff for taking care of me during my cowardly incident. And thanks to the carpet guy for doing such a great job on our carpet. Next time, I'll let someone else stock the fridge. Oh, and Happy Easter.

Blizzard?

"The National Weather Service is calling for a big blizzard today!" -- Groundhog Day

Given that news, the entire state of Colorado is in a panic. Schools are closed in preparation. I don't get it, personally, but hey - Jordan gets a snow day out of it.

I have decided to blog the day. I'll take a picture every 30-60 minutes and watch the blizzard roll in. We'll see if my lack of faith in the meteorologists is worthwhile or if I need to rethink my belief in news reporters.

So, to start us off, this is what we woke up to at 6:30am

Less than an inch on the grass & roofs and nothing but a bit of moisture on the roads

Fast forward to 8:30am when I decided to take another picture, this time from the office window

A little more snow on the grass, but the roads are still fine. You can see a couple of flakes in the shot, as it has begun snowing.

9:35am

More flakes in the air. Nothing on the road, and not much change to the grass. You can no longer see the road and houses in the distance, though.

10:50am

Bah. This isn't getting to be the big blizzard I was thinking of. Not that I want it or even expect it. The snow on the grass hasn't changed, the roads are still fine, and you can now see more of the road & houses in the distance.

11:45am

It's not any different on the ground, although there is a lot more snow in the air and the flakes are bigger. The wind has kicked up a bit, too. The road & houses in the distance have disappeared again.

12:15pm

Okay. So now it's starting to come down. The flakes are really big still. The snow is now beginning to stick to the roads.

12:30pm

More snow. Definitely sticking and not melting away. The flakes are smaller, but there are more of them in the air.

12:50pm

Wow. I'm impressed. I'd say there are now 2 inches of snow in the grass, heavy blowing snow, and near whiteout conditions. You can see the bare spot in the street where a neighbor drove up, parked for about 10 minutes while his wife ran inside for something, and then they drove off again. That's quite a bit of snow in 10 minutes!

1:00pm

I won't put another picture up yet, but the spot in the street where the car was sitting is now completely gone, as are the tire tracks. It's still coming down quick, seeing as it's only been another 10 minutes. Lots of horizontal snow in the air. But it seems like plenty is still falling from the clouds!

2:15pm

Well, it's slowed down a bit. I think the snow is blowing more than falling. Lots of horizontal white stuff. But visibility is better and some of the roads & driveways are melting a bit. I'm sure it'll be icy tonight! Lots of businesses are closing early, and Jeff is on his way home from work. If the snow keeps up, he'll probably be home tomorrow, too!

3:45pm

The snow has tapered off, but not quit. It's still coming down and blowing around. But the visibility is better, as you can see the road & houses in the distance. Jeff is still working on getting home. Traffic is completely backed up. He just turned off his side street and onto Arapahoe. It's 1.4 miles from his building to Arapahoe. Yargh.

5:00pm

Well, Jeff finally made it home. It is continuing to snow here, and it's getting deeper. While it doesn't appear that much has changed, the lack of getting better isn't a good thing.

6:15pm

So, aside from the picture looking like it was taken at noon rather than 6pm, nothing has changed. Our backyard has more snow, but the amount on the streets still seems about the same. News reports are now saying that the storm is finishing up sooner than anticipated. Yay.

7:15pm

Ahh, it's getting dark out! The snow hasn't changed much. People are now shoveling their driveways. They either think the storm is almost over, or they think we're going to get a ton more and want to make their next shoveling job easier. As it stands, I can't see us getting much more. The storm seems about spent and the blizzard watch is over for us. But, the snow is still coming down, although it's difficult to see. I guess I'll check again in an hour or so.

8:20pm

A look at our neighbor's house, since they have their porch light on making the snow is easy to see. The photo looks grainy, but it's all snow. The wind is still gusting quite a bit, the snow is nicely falling, and the temperature is 13 degrees but feels like -6. Fun. I sure hope that there's no school tomorrow and that Jeff works from home (although that means I don't get to do my woodworking project unless we move the car from the garage). 

Still 8:20pm

A look in the original direction. You can see the lights on in the houses in the distance, so obviously the snow isn't coming down too hard. I'd still hate to be out in it. I'm sure it's slick.

10:45pm

A shot of our old barbecue that we need to throw out. Quite a bit of snow for us this winter. Hopefully Colorado will not have as many fire danger days in early Spring now! The pictures had to be taken from inside the house, as the screen door is frozen shut... both Jeff and I pulled and pried to get the thing open and it just wouldn't. And I couldn't bring myself to go out the front door and traipse across all the snow just to get the picture I wanted. :)

10:45 again - last post for tonight

So, to end on the same scene as we started with, here's a shot of the backyard showing how much snow accumulated throughout the day. It's still snowing out there, and is supposed to continue through the night. School is canceled for tomorrow so Jordan gets to start his Spring Break a few days early.

I may take some more pictures tomorrow, if the snow continues to provide any interest for me. Since it was too cold for me to work in the garage this evening, I spent a lovely time playing WoW with Jeff. Who can complain about that? :)