"Guess what's weird"

Tanner likes to start telling some factoid by stating "guess what's weird". Here's one from today.


Tanner: "Guess what's weird"

Me: "hmm?"

Tanner: "I have been wearing this jacket all day and now I'm hot."

Me: "That's weird."



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen's mother

First of all, my kid is awesome!

And, its her 13th birthday.

I would like to do the customary birthday blog post. You know the one, its the "my kid is awesome so I will write her a post on her birthday to tell the world of her awesome-nes".  But, I am having a hard time writing a bunch of kissy-kissy, hugs-hugs crap.*

*Don't we all get tired of reading someones ideal rendition of the perfect life? Wouldn't we rather just read the dirt. The true story. I say we should all mustache the photo of the prom queen !**

** OK. Its probably just me.

Well anyways. 

I have sat here, for over 3 hours, typing random bits of stories, thoughts, emotions and ideas. Nothing concrete. No direction. Trying to make it all fit into something coherent but, its all jumbled. I think its because she resides to close to my heart. I can not see the picture. I can not write about it. I am too close to it to fully understand its depth.

So, I guess I will just say what I need to (without all the kissy-kissy, hugs-hugs crap).

Happy Birthday Casi!

I love you.

You are my favorite happy mistake (where I had a girl).*

You are an amazing person.

I am sorry that I did not hug you enough.** 

Amen.

* Yes. Thats right. Mistakes. Both kids. Mistakes. Nothing new here. Moving on.

**We have plans to help her work through this issue with her post high school psychiatrist.

B-day party images:

Silly string wars ensued

Scavenger Hunt Loot

Winners and Losers (who were told to hang their head in shame)

 

Crazy (but very fashionable) head wear

 

And TOO much tape. Why so much tape? Why?

The Omaha adventure starts early

Written on my cell phone on March 10th while sitting at the SLC, airport.

I thought I had everything planned out. In retrospect, though, I forgot a very important detail.

I was cleaning things up at work in preparation for my trip. I had 8 more hours of work and I needed every hour. My phone rang.

It was Bushtit E.  I excitedly answered the phone but she responded with the news of a missed flight. I responded with "Missed flight? We don't leave until tomorrow!?!" She assured me I was wrong. The time showed 3:21 pm. My flight was at 5:07 pm. Today.

Poor Nate took the brunt of it. With the help of Casi, my bags were packed before he bolted from our home. It was 4:06 when he picked me up at Shopko; located near I-80 and foothill. Leaving my car there for pick up later, I got in his truck. Doubt filled my mind, but he assured me he could get me to the airport in 15 min. There was still a chance that I would make the flight... prepared for Omaha weather and Bushtit adventures with whatever Nate and Casidy had packed me. I felt sick to my stomach.

I entered the airport and hurriedly pass the sign to the entrance of the Frontier desk. I noticed it says that you must check in 45 min before departure. I don't stop to read its entirety but it makes me more nervous. I know I am close to that deadline. The same deadline that helped Bushtit E miss her flight. My hand shakes as I slide my credit card into the slot. I have to repeat it three times before I get it right. It finally goes through.

Now, I am sitting on this plane trying to finish off any leftover jitters and sick emotions. I finaly laugh. I can relax.  I start to think of the first two hours of my Omaha adventure. I wonder how many times it will plaque me as I realize the missing items in my bag. 

I feel exhausted so I ask for coffee to help with the hours of airports and flights. Taking the risk associated with ordering an airline coffee but I am rewarded for my risk. Its good and I drink it slow. 

We had many airport blunders this trip.  I thought I would outline them in bullet point form.

1. Bushtit E, flying out of LA, missed her flight to Omaha by ONLY 2 mins due to the "45 min rule".  
2. As you know, I almost missed my flight to Omaha.  I still wonder if I was past the 45 min. rule. 
3. I learn that Nate is great at packing my bags. I had everything I needed the whole trip. I hope to use his skills again. I hate packing for a trip.
4. Bushtit E, after going to a friends home and crashing for the night made it to Omaha around noon the next day. Her bags however did not make it out of Denver for the connection flight.
5. When the airport says that they will drive your luggage to you tonight they mean it will come by FedEx the next day. 
6. Bushtit E gets really happy, after spending three days in the same outfit, when she finally receives her bag.
7. I definitely was past the 45 min rule when I left Omaha. 

A few pictures: (I hope to post a few more later)

This is a lake outside the Omaha airport. Bushtit B and I wandered the trails and boardwalks while we waited for Bushtit E to come in. 

We did a lot of this. Wandering around in farm fields and muddy roads in 20 mile/hour wind with 40 mile/hour wind gusts from the north; 17F wind chill. Yes! The weather performed beautifully!

Things I overheard: NOT!

Tanner: "Mom! Shhhh!"

Me: *silence* I even stop moving.

Tanner: "Did you hear that?"

Me: "What?"

Tanner: "That bird!" He then mimics the sound. "Churp, Churp, Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

Me: I know what he is talking about and I hear the first two notes but, not the buzz. I move closer to the window.

Tanner: "You don't hear that?"

Me: "Not all of it." I open the window. The birds entire song floods in.

Tanner: "Does Dad know you're deaf?"

charley harper prints

(I hope to buy one of his prints one day). 

Leaving for Omaha!

I am off to Ohama, Nebraska for a birding adventure with my B-titties! 


I know. I know. You think I am crazy.Part of me thinks so too. 


I have heard what you have been saying. "Why not the beaches of Hawaii, a show on Broadway, shopping in NY? They all have so much to offer." But Nebraska has much to offer too and for birders, the most notable reason to go to Nebraska is to see the hundreds of thousands of sandhill cranes on the Platte river in March.  That is a lot of crane in one place! Which, allows for nature to put on a  spectacular show of number and sound, with the rising sun as its backdrop. I can hardly wait to see it! 


Below is a video taken at the Rowe sanctuary near Kearney (pronounced Carney). You only need a few seconds to get a feel for what it will be like there. Oh yeah, and the sounds you hear... thats the cranes!

Another part of the experience of going to Omaha, in March, is the weather. Below is an excerpt from another birders trip report. It forewarns to the weather we may experience and the necessity to pack gear for all types of weather. The prospect of bad weather, however, also gets me excited. Because, to have a great adventure you have to pay a price. To witness the Cranes taking off, with the sun, over the Platte River the price, I expect, will be cold. I look forward to paying it.

"How should you dress if you go there?  Well, the day before we arrived it was sunny and calm with the temperature in the 60's.  The Thursday we arrived it was raining hard, the temps were dropping into the low 30's and the wind was blowing very hard out of the northwest.  On Friday we awoke to a temperature of -10 degrees F, accompanied by winds topping out at 50 mph, giving us wind chills of at least 30-40 degrees below zero--the most breath-taking cold we've ever experienced!  Saturday it snowed all morning, but the wind abated, making the 25 degree temperatures feel downright balmy.  By Sunday the wind had picked up again but was blowing hard out of the south, so by the time we pulled into the rental car return lot at the Lincoln Municipal Airport, the temperatures had once again climbed into the 60's.  Enough said?"

-Norm and Fran Sanders 

 See you all soon and hopefully with a great story to tell.

Ocher

I have a couple of hours to kill. I need a nap. I was up too late with the kids, then didn't sleep well due to my meds. "Screw any notions of napping" I thought. I want to go outside. I want to go up Bells Canyon. I gear up and head out the door. Casi smiles from the couch as I leave. Happy to have peace, she turns back to her book. 

I prefer the access road to the single track trail, due to lack of use. The punishment for this isolation is 4-6 inches of snow. I  think of sand as I trudge through the snow. Both snow and sand, have the ability to rob me of my work. A portion of each step. I continue to climb. Step. Slide. Step. Slide. Slowly up the mountain side.

I think of a deer as I followed its footprints in the snow. Then rabbit, mouse... and something, I can not identify. Something, I tell myself, is a  bobcat. I don't know for sure.

 I think of color as I notice the dusty green of sage, the dark brown hues of Scub Oak, the intense and clear blue sky interspersed with white fluffy clouds, and the intense yellows of Ocher.  

I think of Ocher. An element of last years summer, perched on the tips of each plant. Remnants of renewal. Birth. Life. A promise to the next year. Ocher in the form of empty seed pods. I reach out to a sage bush, grab a handful of Ocher, and watch it as it disperses in the wind.

I think of Ocher and its presence in summer. Of "Dead heading". A tedious work, of clipping the Ocher from my plants. I think summer Ocher is ugly. The Ocher of winter however, is beautiful and reminiscent of the flowers, we hope for. That come with spring.  

I think of spring.

Update: I have had a few comments regarding the definition of Ocher. So here it is from the Merriam-Webster's online dictionary

Main Entry: ocher 

Variant(s): or ochre  \ˈō-kər\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English oker, from Middle French & Latin; Middle French ocre, from Latinochra, from Greek ōchra, from feminine of ōchros yellow

Date: 14th century

1 : an earthy usually red or yellow and often impure iron ore used as a pigment
2 : the color of ocher; especially : the color of yellow ocher

— ocher·ous  \ˈō-k(ə-)rəs\ or ochre·ous \ˈō-k(ə-)rəs, -krē-əs\ adjective