Saturday, September 23, 2006

Spending My Man's Money

Recently, Steve tried to get my goat by suggesting that we would not hire a woman for a particular position (one we don't even have open, so this was purely to mess with me). At first I fell for it, but shortly I turned to him and said, "You're right, I've been taking work from a man, so I'm going to quit and do what I should be doing--my nails, my hair and spending my man's money." So now I guess I'm going to plan to be a real womanly woman and quit taking a man's place in the workforce. I think women's work would suit me, don't you? I'll make appointments to get my nails done ($50/month minimum), hair ($150/quarterly) and generally spend my man's money.

It is the third directive that I think I can manage very well. I don't really like malls, grocery or department stores, but I'm quite certain that I could spend money buying books, music, DVDs, furnishings, home decor, plants, landscaping materials and outdoor furnishings. Oh, I could also spend money on travel!

Going along with this lifestyle, I think I may have to spend some time managing the servants, and going to fittings, because I wouldn't want my wardrobe to make my man look like he can't provide properly.

I imagine you figured out that I won this one without having to argue at all.

Thursday, September 21, 2006


It has been a while since my last blog. Busy times, emotional times. Had a very busy work week prior to leaving for our daughter's wedding in California. The worst travel we've ever had. Don't plan to EVER fly Delta again. The weather was not their fault. The lying was. Would have managed the trip differently if they had simply told us the truth from the start, and it would have made our lives much easier. We could have driven in less time than it took us to fly to San Diego from Colorado Springs. Arrived so exhausted that I still haven't caught up on my sleep.

It was a lovely wedding. Another tale for another day.

Arrived home late Sunday night to find the dogs missing. Fortunately Steve drove around and found them, but the gate was wide open. We don't know how it happened.

Anyway, found them. Tuesday, someone opened the gate again, but this time we couldn't find them. We drove around for about 5 hours looking for them, each heavily trafficked street a reminder of the damage they could suffer, every phone call brought hope and then dashed them. Every caller had to wonder why I sounded so disappointed by their call. By 6 pm I was a basket case. I thought I heard Happy barking, so I ran to the front door with a big smile on my face, full of expectation, only to realize that the barking had been on TV in another room.

That same night my parents arrived from Salem, Oregon after a long and exhausting trip. The following morning Steve, my brother-in-law, Glenn, and my nephew, Justin unloaded the moving truck, leaving a houseful of furniture and belongings in about half the space needed, but with room enough to reach the chair that my Dad sleeps in, space to get into the kitchen and make coffee, and an empty couch for resting and sleeping.

After dropping off the rental truck, Mom and Justin went with me to the pound where I found both dogs. Happy was fine, but Barney was quite freaked out. Not really a surprise. He doesn't do well in a kennel, or around the smell of lots of other dogs. He is still acting a bit traumatized, and all his reactions seem just a bit more pronounced than normal. I am so happy to have them back. I didn't realize I hadn't taken a full breath, until I quit holding my breath after picking them up.

So, went to help unpack in the afternoon. I'm not a whole lot of help, but I am some. It will be quite some time before the apartment is straight and organized, but they do have a wonderful view of Pikes Peak from their patio.

So today, we went over to pick up some excess stuff that needed to be removed from the patio, and while the stuff was being unloaded at my house, I stayed with Dad where he told the following story:

A friend and professor at the seminary in Salem was also an expert fly fisherman and fly fishing instructor. He and Dad went fishing in the mountains. At one point in the middle of the river, dad realized he need to eat. As he opened his lunch, the boat became surrounded by ducks and geese, including a particularly nifty family of a mom, dad and several small ducklings. Dad fed the ducks as he fed himself, until there was no more, at which point he told the mother duck to go, and she did, taking her ducklings with her.

A while later, Dad got a hit on his line--a big hit. He looks out and the mother duck is going beserk, then the daddy duck goes nuts. His big hit is one of the ducklings. Definitely a catch and release. Duckling went free, to the relief of mom and dad, but several fish went into the frypan, and Dad went from being a fisherman to "The Duckerman".