Tennis anyone?

The young and energetic Ratchet and I have been filling our mornings of late playing tennis.  I discovered this delightful game only about a month ago when my exercisey friend, the effervescent  Beck Bleu, ask me if I wanted to give it a try.  We like to have talk-and -walks around the town already in the name of fitness and we even tried racquetball a few times, which I actually enjoyed, but the habit never really kicked in.  And, if truth be told, my club membership has always been a little off and on over the years going along with my off and on exercise style-so that tends to affect play habits as well.

I've always liked the idea of tennis, and then when Becky taught me some of the rules I was intrigued to know if I could actually learn to serve the ball into the proper rectangle and figure out how to control my over the fence tendencies.  

Two weeks later, Ratchet and I having completely taken up the sport, haven't improved hugely at this juncture.  Granted I am a full grown novice.  He is ten, and has named his various serves (none of them being legal no doubt).  He has the "Samurai" which is a winding and swirling of the raquet, that looks a little like Tai Chi or something equally thoughtfull, twisting his wrist all around before he hits the ball.  And then, he does one called the Jedi, which no doubt employs the force at some point to serve the ball with his mind.  This doesn't always work perfectly for him.  

My favorite of his serves would have to be the "Old man Jenkins" though, because he uses his racket as sort of a low cane for a bit before releasing the ball and then "pop", as soon as he hits it he yells in a geriatric voice "Oh my back!"  which never fails to amuse me even though it teeters on the brink of being disrespectful to the elderly.   

I'm always just trying to perfect my grunt while giving just enough but not too much power behind my swing.  I'm afraid I took up the grunt sound in fun, but as it turns out, after trying to play tennis multiple days in a row, I find it's the only thing that gets me through the short hour.  What an exhausting sport!  And we don't even get too many actual volley's going.  We just end up chasing balls so much that all the "non- game playing" is even a pretty nice work out for the both of us. 

Instead of playing the whole time Wednesday morning, we opted to take a little nature hike at the end of campus behind the college soccer fields.  I remembered that back when I attended JBU  there was some sort of hiking trail behind the school. So we took off in that direction, water bottles in hand, to give it a look.  

We soon found a trail out into the woods that was sort of lined with wood chips so I considered it worthy for some "city style" hiking fun.  Not long into the trail however we came upon a brand new wooden bridge spanning over a beautifully clear running creek.  Across this bridge was a gorgeous and new looking lodge style house thats walls were practically all windows.  It also had this tiered decking situation with a couple of chaise lounges at the other side of the bridge from us and very much resembling private property.  

That was the end of that walk as we didn't want to impose on anyone's land in this most secluded location.  But, I was so confused as to what that big beautiful house was doing back there. Did this belong to Mr. Pollard, JBU's president?   It felt as all things in the woods do to me, like we were the first to discover this scenic area. And my inner realtor kept wondering how I could get to this house by street to investigate further.  With all the windows in it however, we had quickly become the scenery to whatever lucky soul might be inside the house, and I didn't dare do anything that hinted at trespassing and would cause myself yet another run in with the law.  

Yes, my friends, I said "another".   On Tuesday night I was nearly sited for disturbing the peace.  I was sitting in a gazebo at one of the parklike areas in our town cackling away with a couple of girlfriends in the 11:00pm-12:00am hours of the night when a policemen drove up and shined his flashlight upon us.  He slowly walked over expecting to catch some raucous teens up to a pile of no good and then broke into a smile when he saw three somewhat classy(well decent anyway) 30 somethings perched, ever watchful of bugs, upon the benches inside the structure.  I, ever the rule follower asked "Are we not allowed to be here?" in a squeaky timid voice.  And he chuckled and said "Oh no, you're fine.  We just got a call complaining that there was a whole lotta noise coming from over here, so I came to check it out."  We said how sorry we were but I, then completely scared straight, had to endure belly laugh worthy conversation for another hour or so, burying my face in the crook of my arm as to stay within the noise requirements of our little sleeping city. 

So you see why I didn't need any more trouble with the authorities.  I was a couple fingerprints from spending the night in the pokey as it was.  After a few minutes  of enjoying the view, we decided to go back the way we came and try to find another path that would lead us to a new adventure.  

And what more could you ask on a nature hike than to run smack into a natural waste facility.  We discovered as we tramped down tall grasses trying to follow some tire marks that had veered  off a gravel road on another corner of the soccer field, a strange looking domed structure a little ways in the distance.  This clearly was some sort of top secret project that the government had placed in our city, unbeknownst to the majority of our residents. Being hidden so cleverly near JBU, yet completely disguised by densely packed trees surrounding it in a conspiratory circle, this place truly smelled of controversy.  We of course soon found out what we were smelling was better described as disgusting than controversial as our noses were finally able to tell our brains what was going on.  

There in front of us were the round troughs of waste being stirred slowly with what looked like giant clock hands and moving at the same pace, so slowly they weren't appearing in motion at all to our widely gazing eyes.  There were other containers in use that all seemed to be containing poo at different stages in the defunking process.  The ones farthest from us had the driest and most soil-like qualities.  I imagined the great dome was a greenhouse type of lid covering and dehydrating all of the paper products into a giant stack of stationery that we would all be licking and sticking in the very near future- all the while wondering if the glue on it was made from old horses.  "That might be the least of our tongue's worries"  I thought to myself as my mind processed with the same murkiness of the plant in front of me.  

The most fascinating and laughable part of the chain link fence enclosed plant just happened to be right in front of us.  There was this thing that looked like a tiny oil derek that functioned as a the gatekeeper to the other larger structures.  It made this automated clicking sound that to me seemed very much like something Stephen King described in his Gunslinger series about a mostly abandoned "world that had moved on".  It was so unnatural in its clumsy movement; as though it was the only functioning thing  left from an earlier time.  There were no humans here, aside from the unauthorized Ratchet and myself. And as we looked down from the awful clunking machinery, we saw some rusty muck collecting grates attempting to cover something below.  But these grates were haphazardly placed with two giant sections missing, exposing a current of brown water flowing underneath.  As we stood with wrinkled noses, watching the current flow into the oil derek shaped pump, we started to notice lumps floating by and realized we could in fact be watching the excrement of all the different townspeople we knew gathering into this one singular place.  It could be OUR leavings that had traveled miles down the road to this odd clunky pump that would determine, with a wave past a dumpster, what would carry on or be stamped "to solid for treatment plant use" with the occasional toothbrush or cell phone that lost its usefulness at first contact with toilet water.   

This was all very strange to take in.  We know for a fact that waste must be managed.  Yet, as you see it in the process, it kind of makes you want to stop voiding all together.  I think it might have given me the feeling that one gets when going to a meat factory to watch the process that we so enjoy taking for granted.  I, for one, know that should I ever want to enjoy a hotdog or a chicken nugget again (but this may not be the time to entertain thoughts of food) I most assuredly should not go near the place that makes them happen. No, I may not be ready to fully explore that type of raw wilderness.   I'll stick with seeing the finished (well, not THIS finished) product of most things.  I am not one who can always appreciate the steps in between.  It's best to leave the "Dirty jobs" to Mike Rowe and the nice people who can stomach such transformations I think.  

Now, where was I?  Oh yes.  Tennis anyone? 

 

Short trip to the City proves painfully slow for readers.

Well rats.  Now I've simply lost all will to post about our week in OK. City because I've waited too long.  That's a bummer since I did take some pics and I suppose it would be fun to share some of the sights and scenes I took in while I was away....

Alright!  I'll go ahead and put up some pictures.  But I may not explain them at all because I barely remember any of it now so...Ok I'll explain them too -Good grief!  Will it keep you all from pestering me so about it?  I mean come on. It's like I've got paparazzi at the gate of my blog just beggin' for me to throw them a bad angled shot of myself driving around with a kid on each knee or something!  GeeYaw!

I'm stalling to see if I can muster up a little blog vinegar but clearly it's just making me go into my "imagination brain" as Ratchet would say.  So I'd better get on with it before things get out of hand.  

We had a nice week with my parents.  The boys and I left Jamey and the pups at home and though we all really missed each other by the end of the week, I think we had a nice visit and a fun adventure that sent our little trip scooting by.  

While the kiddos went to Camp Dakani during the days and learned all about what to do in the out of doors, My mimsy and I decided it would be fun to redo her master bathroom with a new wall color and some different lighting and mirrors.   It's funny how channels like HGTV can make you think do-it-yourself manual labor "updating" is inexpensive and exciting?   I like to pretend I'm one of the designers walking an audience through our clever color choices and ideas but then I always want to say "CUT" and  go sit down with a cold drink and watch a huge crew come in and bring my vision to life.  

 The thing about the t.v.  is that they never seem to get dirty or tired looking at all while knocking down walls and constructing custom furniture by hand.  And the project is ALWAYS finished to entirety in two days!  Sadly, WE were only down two layers of wallpaper in two days time and still had to finish hosing down all the walls with warm fabric softener water and scrape the remaining paper sack colored layer off and sand before priming and painting could begin.  Here's a portion of the  large room minus the three layers of paper.  Somebody please cue the work crew already!

My mom took off Monday, Tuesday and Friday, so on Wednesday she sent me around to do some accessory shopping for our new "spa" themed room.  She knew all it would  take to keep me happy was to hold out some money and point me in the direction of the stores. So that was what happened on the third day of camp.  I'd swear that was surely the shortest day of the week because I didn't have to muss myself at all AND I was able to get fully immersed in The Zone (Sometimes when I'm gone from home for hours at a time on a "quick store run" Jamey has to call me to try and get me back on task.  Occasionally I don't even hear my phone in this state, but when I do, I can barely recognize his voice faintly calling as if from inside a well, warning me I've gone into The Zone and to please come back to them before the weekend ends.) 

So needless to say, I had an enjoyable day and managed to bring home eight huge vases from Hobby Lobby for my mom's perusal. And I also picked out some pretty spa related items from Pier One and Target.  Woot a woo!  

I'm realizing it might have been nice to have a picture of our completed look but it was far from complete when the campers and I pulled out Saturday.  Maybe once it's done we'll get the "after" for all my decorating friend readers. ;) Meanwhile here are the campers before heading off for a rainy  day outside (awww shucks ;).

The next day I was left to my own devices, I decided to summon the brave and social me and go visit my old workplace pals at the O.U.-College of Dentistry.  I took some pictures of the clinic I worked in from 1995-2000 so I could share them with all who just know me as  Siloam Shan-now specializing in childcare and housewifery.  Here are some of my favorite ladies who still work there eight short years after my departure!  It was SO FUN seeing them.  HI GIRLS!! ( I showed them my blog so hopefully they are tracking along with me now :)

We had two sides to our Oral Surgery clinic. 

 This side, where the dental students saw patients cattle-style who were brave (or just plain desperate) enough to come in and have teeth pulled by someone who had quite possibly never attempted such things before.  Oh the wild times we saw in that clinic!  This place was a bundle of nerves for student and patient alike, so you just never knew who'd be up and fainting on you or crying out with the barnlike glottal sounds of childbirth.  It was strange, funny and sad all at once.  As assistants we tried to respect the young students who were learning the art of giving effective mouth injections and going through the various steps to loosen a badly decayed tooth.  But most of the time we wanted to rip the giant plier out of their trembling hands and get in there and get down to business!  

The other side of the clinic was for the Oral Surgery residents and the private practice of the Oral Maxillofacial Surgeons on staff at the college. 

 This is where I worked most of my stint as a surgical assistant.  It was fun working with so many different residents during their four years in the program.  And when the seasoned surgeons did bigger cases involving the whole face, we really were able to see some exciting procedures. Here is our #1 scrub tech Frank who was our front man for the big stuff. 

Once I almost offered up my own nose for a visiting surgeon who was teaching the art of rhinoplasty to our senior residents.  At some point while pondering my new narrow nose, I realized even though it would be entirely free, I would need to be passed out in front of all my coworkers and a huge group of students, all gathered around my gigantic shnozz opened up and spread  out over the room.  And if that wasn't enough to deter me (which it was) I would also have to have yards and yards of packing removed from my smaller nose days later.   I had seen how that tended to go for those before me and I wasn't prepared to suffer that for a button snoot either.  So I kept the one I was given.  Here I am with the lovely Angelia.  Guess which one of us is an avid coffee drinker.  Ding!

My favorite thing about my job as the clinic coordinator was being the great drug keeper.  I loved knowing about the various sedatives, and all the different meds we used for pain, swelling or special conditions.  Part of my job was to order supplies and  and keep our crash carts stocked and current in every clinic of the school and I found myself very interested in the pharmaceutical side of medicine while learning about the different uses of the drugs in our inventory.  If my grades from the early years of school weren't so mediocre(to hideous) and I thought I could ever finish, I'd love to have the chance to study medicine or pharmacy.  

Ah, but I'm getting too old and thick headed for such lofty goals now, so I think I'll set my sights on less time consuming and brain contorting things like wall paper removal and shopping for sea glass and toilet room accessories.  

And that brings me to back to my week.  Here are some cute pictures of the boys golfing in my parents back yard.  Ratchet played hole #5(behind their house) every evening after dinner and was able to play nine on Friday with Gido.  Dandy waited with us until they got to the backyard portion of the course and hopped in for a spin on the golfcart as they cruised by.  

The boys also enjoyed swimming at the pool in Ginger and Gido's neighborhood.  Dandy is so happy when he swims.  It's like all of his physical frustrations go away as he enters the water and he just squeals with excitement from beginning to end.  

Camping proved to be a challenge for Dandy even though he loves the outdoors.  He tended to spend a little time in the office each day when he found himself leaving the other campers and going off on his own.  Apparantly he also felt the need to scream with alternating happiness and impatience through the flag raising ceremonies and song times.  In result, the Dakani staff politely requested he become a half-day camper and that seemed to help a bit.  He was super big showing us the different things they did in their "home in the woods" though.

Ratchet really enjoyed himself as well and decided he might want to save his money for a bow and arrows because he loved archery so much.  That's kind of like wanting a Red Rider BB gun to a mother though.  "Everyone get your safety glasses and protective vests on if your going to be in the backyard.  And STOP aiming at the chihuahua!"   

And now that you are all collectively nodding off in your chairs from my inability to self edit, I will close this post.  It's true that I left out some details.  But I WAS hoping to have one brave reader left by the time I stopped typing.  Anyone there?  HELLO?  Oh, it's just me so I'll quietly sign off. xx

 

 

Blogging is as blogging does

Well I'm back at the helm of my computer, but don't have enough time today for a picture-filled report on my week because I simply must find out what you guys have been up to. In the meantime, I came across this little blog evaluation device over at Scout's place and I thought I'd see how I am measuring up in the blogosphere. Here's the litmus test that will tell me just where I, Shan, stand in my personal journey toward intelligence. 

Now let's just push this button here and see how clever I am at spinning a yarn. Oops, wrong button, hold on a minute. Ok, and there. Now for my hopefully impressive results....

TV Reviews

WAIT a sec. Are there many levels below this? Aren't people only beginning their journey into reading in Elementary school? Why, it seems as though I can barely write my name without spellcheck intervention! Who's in charge of this test? I want a recount! That's it. 

Well, I guess I have been told I should write poems for children. I was thinking that was a compliment at the time. But perhaps since I wasn't writing particularly for children when it was suggested, it's possible it was in fact-not flattery. Guess I need to start beefing up on the vocab. But, I so prefer to make up my own words, and that might take up even more of my precious chair sitting time. I don't know maybe I'll just keep writing for the common man (or child) and leave the tougher stuff to you higher fallooten folken. It's words like those that got me this fine rating isn't it? Ah well, just keepin' it real all up in here. 

Stay tuned for some primary school level photographs and updates about my week in Oklahoma City. I'm sure it will be worth every bit of simple minded time you have alloted for yourself on that day. It's good to see you again blogroll buddies! TTFN!

Shan to temporarily leave land

Hear ye!  Hear ye!  I am scheduled to be removed from my computer mid-Sunday and it is highly likely I may not return until the following Sunday!  I realize this is really only one week but for my own sake I am making it much much bigger and am pretending that I'm going off on a wild "unplugged" adventure into the GREAT WILDERNESS of no internet.  

What is this place of which you speak young(ish) blogger?  It is my homeland.  The place where I took my most tender first steps. Where I went from adorable big eyed baby to chunky frog faced version of Laura Ingals Wilder.  It's the world that shapeshifted me right into the promising semi-attractive at this point high school graduate who almost didn't want to leave her sweet  setup as a warranty (coffee) clerk at a lawnmower distributing warehouse to experience the next four ("Try six."  Someone dryly mocks.) years of college. 

Oh.  Why didn't you just say Oklahoma City?  Well because, dull warranty clerk who never even uses her OWN lawnmower, some of us have higher aspirations of communication than you and all the other voices trying to make their way into this entry.  SOME of us have a that little flare for drama and entertainment.  And even though that particular section of The Shan has been known to bust into an impromtu song and dance number, there are even subtler versions of this performer that prefer to turn simple statements into vast sinkholes of run-on sentences and wordy descriptives.

But now we've all forgotten the point of this post and we are all growing weary watching you fi-lap-ball-change your way down the page.  YOU CAN'T RUSH AN ARTIST!  Ok, did she just call herself an artist because now this is re-heely getting out of hand.  Maybe she meant to say Narcissist and her "artistry" got in the way.  Yes, I agree with you.  

OK HOW MANY OF US ARE IN HERE?!  Can I please continue? Yip.  Yes. Whatever.  Go on Diva.  THANK YOU.  Now, where was I....Oh yes, I must leave my post dear bloggers!  I er, uh, We shall use this time to carefully examine life outside the electronic world and boldly go where pages physically turn while the young offspring frolic around in the great outdoors and all of our meals are provided .. I'm sorry, I've got to cut in here.  WHAT IS IT? 

 Well, really it's all the waxing on about magical pages turning and food being delivered to you.  And,  really?  No electronics?  Last I checked Ginger and Gido had a huge cable box wired to all of the gigantic televisions in the house. AND yes, you will read but don't you already kind of do that now.  YEAH, and that part about the meals.

 I heard us tell Mom we would help with dinner and stuff so that's not really gonna fly with...ALRIGHT ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!  For such curt  and to the point stodgy voices, you guys are all writing yourselves all the way onto my short list of most agitating contributers to a blog post to date!  Then stop with all of the exaggerations.  That's right I mean we're going out of town.  The kids get to go to camp and we get to shop around and stuff.  Big whoop.  Yeah, big whoop.  

But it's so much greater than that in my head.  Well, not to all of us.  She is somewhat right.  It WILL be nice to get away and spend some quality time with the family.  Don't burst her bubble to much on that one.  Ok, true, but she is just so irritating and is always so capital letter loud.  I AM STILL HERE!! 

 Ok, just let me finish. The bottom line is guys  we're not "us" without the wordy noisy  one are we?  Nah. No. Guess not.  She's the punk to our sparkler of many colors.  True. 

 Ahhhh!  THANKS everyone!  You know that really means something to me.  Why just the other day I was twittering about in our..SOMEONE take her down!  Please just sign off already.  OH, ok.  BYE BLOGGING FRIENDS!!  I won't be reading!  Or commenting!  I'll see you guys when I [click-publishing post activated]

Gee...Your hair smells terrific!

This morning Old Green had an appointment to get a drain hole under her hood unclogged as aging cars and people occasionally need to do.  So, as most car fixes go, we headed out with both vehicles to the glass shop (glass shop for a clogged drain hole? I don't try to understand.) where she was scheduled for drop off. 

I tossed the keys at my friend Tab's(Hi Tab) step dad after a small exchange of who we mutually knew in town, and dashed out the door to join my family in the other car.  For some reason when I hurriedly got in the car I just jumped into the back seat and was sitting directly behind Jamey.  This is the part that the Heavenlies surely controlled because I can't recall ever not sitting in the other front seat on a car trip-long or short.  

About halfway to hubby's office which was maybe a five minute drive total, a glop of something caught my gaze on the very crown of Jamey's head in front of me.  I let my eyes focus in further and my brain considered I'd seen a huge hair gel accident sitting there. So quickly I gave him a mental "Bless his heart, he's no metrosexual" pity.  But, sure as I got that thought going, my synapses fired again and I had recognition!  B..I..R..D......P..U..C..K...Y... was the answer scrolling across my mind like one of those red dot running signs advertising specials in store windows. This definitely WAS special!  

Immediately I voiced an urgent "OH, OH, OH!"  and he braced for collision quickly looking around for trouble.  I finally spit out "You have a... TWIST CONE  sized dropping on the top of your head!!!"  And then, of course, I immediately went into alternating shutters and giggles all at his expense.   No one in my family ever finds these things as funny as I do, but Ratchet sitting next to me and Jamey, the victim, both tried to be amused while we found a napkin and I carefully pinched at the grey and white goo ball nestled around his hair shafts like a giant louse nit. "Fight the gag Shan.  Fight the gag." I chanted to myself like the pro I am.

It's just a good thing I've been a mother for a while and have nasty glop grabbing skills, because the whole thing came out without a trace of evidence that anything had been there at all.  

Together we quickly tried to imagine all of the embarrassing ways his poo head could have been discovered throughout the day and how many would have seen it before someone as obnoxious as his chortling wife would have been brave enough to tell him.  He's already had to purposely slop water all over his shirt to match his pants after many bad hand washing splatters to the crotch at the low shallow sink in their new restrooms. 

 I wasn't there to help him with those.  Nor was I there at the first day of his previous job in OKC when he showed up for a drug screening with matching trails of blood running down either side of his neck from his jawline after nervously nicking himself with the razor that morning.  I'm sure they were amazed HE passed the test that day given we lived no where near Transylvania.  And what non-needle pusher would be so out of touch with his own corporate look?  Well, I know one.  And he's a keeper.  So I'm just glad I can be there to help with that extra set of eyes when I can.  Today I could have used an extra pair of latex gloves as well.  

 Speaking of donning gloves...there's a nasty dog rump waiting for me in the other room.  Tiki's blown a colon again.  I really oughta just keep these things on.

Now only 13 shy of an even 100!

As I was stumbling through a hideous pile of leather and man-made materials this past weekend, I thought it might be fun to share with you one of my secret shames of the material world.

 

Yes, I'm afraid 87 is not only the year I graduated from high school, it has also become the giant, and to some, ghastly number of mediocre shoes I own.  While sitting atop the lurching pile on Saturday wondering which poor soles should stay and which should go, I realized each and every little(ok, hoofer sized)pair of my shoes has healed it's own place in my slowly swelling heart. 

 How do I send any one of you away oh faithful land-foot separators?  Even you, denim buckle top with the dog chewed  corner sole?  We've had some good times together.  Remember when I slipped off of you sideways, scraping the whole piece of thick skin from my heal?  Then I sort of flapped it back on hoping for reattachment. And it mostly worked!  Yeah, that was a scary messy day that I'll not soon forget.  

And you, you sneaky cross-trainer.  It was you I chose to wear for a simple backyard frolic- right into  the hole that broke my ankle. So much for the "sensible shoe" label doctors try to give you. That time we had to hop back into the house so I could take a quick bath and good-foot-it over to the emergency room for x-rays and a big black boot. 

 And don't even get me started on you slippery little flip flops! Of which one of you, who shall remain nameless, contributed to the porch slipping wrist snapping fall of '04 that kept me from getting my first foster baby(later to be known as Dandy) for six weeks!

 I'm not mad at any of my darling shoeys though.  We've had some blistering good times together.  I've definitely had my share of  tall shoe incidents as well.  I've done many clever wipe outs with subtle ground level changes underfoot. 

 But nothing can match the exhilaration  of strolling through a store with several inches added to each leg, peering over the tops of other shoppers in wizard to hobbit scale.  It's gloriously powerful.  I like to help the small bare and hairy footed shoppers reach things on the tippy top shelves while strolling down the toilet paper aisle.

But enough about me, let's get on with my collection shall we?  Here's a little rounder of some of what I like to call my "Barbie Shoes", although I feel certain their sheer size alone would disqualify them from anything so feminine sounding.  They are all however properly bedazzled and ball gown ready.

Here's a pair I'm pretty proud of.  What makes these twins special is that they are not twins at all but merely siblings!  One is a whopping size 10 while it's mini-me is merely an 8 1/2.  I discovered this one day at church while at first thinking my shoes were a little small, then later, re-looking and finding them actually quite roomie!  BAHHA!  I still wear them though because I am able to reach across size lines and set my mind somewhere in between.  I know, how very big of me. 

Here are some other groupings of Shan shoes:

We have the winter line.

A colorful batch of flip-ems. 

A motley mix of useful and uglies.  The ones I tend to live in are the tall dark blue flips with turquoise swirls.  Got them at an outdoor store several years ago and they may  actually never wear out.  May they never!

And here are some of the more closeted ones(poor dears): 

In my way of wanting to start new fashion forward trends, I toyed around with an idea this weekend to keep my footwear looking fresh on a shoestring budget. I find it to be quite gangsta. 

It's right up there with my earcuff and rubber tie ideas. Is it not?

And now I'll leave you with the five year old Dandy modeling one of my boots to give  a feel for how Gandolfian my shoes actually are. 

How many wizard or barbie sized shoes do you have?

Picture this...And this...And while you're at it, this.

Since I've been an inattentive Shanslander lately I thought I'd go through my piccys and give you a huge smattering of them.  I'll try to keep my discussions to a minimum and give you a broad range of events that I might have blogged about had I not been so busy being "oot and aboot" as our Canadian neighbors would say. 

Let's start off with a couple of trips out with my friends.  In celebrations of various sorts(and trust me I'm not even sharing all of them).  I found myself twice recently at the same place called HUGO'S, which I hadn't actually been to for years.  

First was Becky Bleus Birthday Bash(a nice alliteration for the English scholar that she is).  

(Becky)

(Trish, Jenna, Becky)

We saw a movie afterwards so this was our attempt to get a picture of ourselves in the theater.  I had to concentrate really hard to include the others in the shot because I kept just taking pictures of my own giant melon.

(Jenna, Trish, Becky, Shan)

Let's keep this rolling to the next visit to Hugo's which was last week in celebration of our dear friend Shelley who is moving to New York in 4.6 days.  BOO!  Why do people leave?  BOO!! BOO!! 

(Sweet-n-Shelley)

Trish, extreme social butterfly, literally can manage to make it to ANY event you are able to schedule.  She is a Clockstopper (and an extrovert with a capital E) and always manages to be enjoying herself in the midst of it all!  Just when I get cocky and start thinking I can do this, something switches off in my brain and I dart for cover bolting the door behind me.  

Oh yes, I wasn't going to start rambling was I?  Here's the second group with Trish and Shan as common denominators. 

(Joy, Hannah, Shelley, Tab)

(Trish, Deanna)

(Hannah, Joy, Tabs, Shelley)

(Trish, Me)

And then Jamey decides to take his turn as a socialite.  Sunday night he went out with 7-ish dudes and then brought them all home for a movie afterwords.  I had to speed unload and reload the dishes all the while tap dancing with rags on each foot to quick clean the floors for the "surprise" drop-ins.  I really should do more daily maintenance.

(Todd, Jamey, Vance)

This is how I distract people who are trying to look at a neglected part of my house.  "Have you seen my lillies? Aren't they pretty?"  casually scooting them out the front  and away from a dusty piece of furniture. 

(Asiatic, Calla)

Of course, we could just move out to the prairie and no one would ever drop by to see us.  This is a house on ten acres we looked at last week.  BAH-HA!  I think it's funny too.  Get a load of the mow job we'd be taking on.  Oh, and I might not be able to stay there at night either which would be tricky.  But the view was delicious indeed!  Too bad the house was a little small.  It was almost perf.....OK! I know you are still laughing at City Mouse.  I can hear you!!  

So there's yet another haphazard wrap up. Can you tell I'm a procrastinating poster?  I guess I like to do my blog newspaper style and give a little synopsis of my world at large.  Tomorrow I've got about 14 things to do so it's possible I'll be rambling again soon at a blog near you.  You want to keep up, but not THAT close? Alright, I understand. ;)  Signing off.