New look for our bedroom

See this cute little boy? That's Fred in December of 1964. See the couch behind him? That, until this past fall, was our couch (admittedly re-covered a time or 2 in the past 40-something years):



I offer this photo as evidence that Fred and I do not replace household decor on a whim. In fact, the old couch--and the coffee table, too--are still alive and well in our basement family room.

Eight years ago, when we moved to North Carolina for the second time, I went to a linen outlet and bought a comforter set for our bed "for the time being." I liked it OK, and it was an absolute bargain for the price, but it has been getting shabbier and shabbier:



I was looking forward to replacing it with something fresh and new, so a couple of months ago I started looking at my options. Let me just tell you right now--there is an awful lot of UGLY out there in the bedding department! I was beginning to despair of ever finding something I could live with. But then, under a clearance table in a Salt Lake City Dillards, I found my new true love: "Tahitian Breeze" by Studio D--a king-size set for $60 (marked down from $230).

When we got home from Utah, I thought I might contact our local Dillards and see if I could round up the curtains to match. Unfortunately, I struck out at the 3 Dillards closest to me, but a saleslady in Utah was tremendously helpful and called me back with SKU numbers for all the different accessories as well as the phone numbers for stores that might have them in stock.

I started out just looking for curtains, but I got so involved in the thrill of the chase that I started tracking down throw pillows as well. In the end, thanks to 2 Dillards in Montana and one in Colorado, I scored 6 curtain panels for the 2 windows in our bedroom as well as the one in the dressing room ($12.50 each, marked down from $50!!!), 2 European pillow shams, and one pretty little throw pillow. Two other throw pillows got away.

Here is our new, much improved bedroom:



Of course, shopping begets more shopping. I had European pillow shams, but no European pillows, so I had to stop by Bed, Bath & Beyond over the weekend to remedy that situation. And the comforter is much too heavy to sleep under, so I ordered this blanket from Target. And naturally our old sheets, even if they weren't faded and tattered, didn't match the new look, so I had to find sheets at the PX (one set red, one set cream). And our old lamps don't match, so they'll need replacing. Maybe I should get some new pajamas too. It's hard to know when to stop.

Baubles from Norway

I took part recently in a most interesting gift exchange. I sent Karla the Texpatriate a book containing scary travel stories about places she was getting ready to visit, and she sent me beautiful, handmade, one-of-a-kind jewelry. I think we know who got the better end of THAT bargain:



You really should go over to Karla's blog right now and read about her current trip to Thailand, because I promise you that she is much more interesting than I am. My whole life these days revolves around this enormous indexing project that I lucked into and while indexing is intellectually stimulating in the extreme, it does not--alas!--make for very good blogging. ("So I decided that rather than double-post it, I would simply make a cross reference . . . " See what I mean? It simply doesn't compare to visiting exotic markets and feeding monks and getting covered in baby-elephant snot.)

Thanks, Karla--I love the earrings and bracelet!

New hair for Mike!

Mike got his hair cut right before we went to Utah. Last week he added highlights to his new look. I think it came out quite nice:

Just love me. Don't try to understand me.

This is my office, in all its messy glory:



Which is probably why Fred dissolved into fits of hysterical, howling laughter when I scolded him for stuffing the new clean sheets into a laundry basket after they came out of the dryer, thus leaving them wrinkled. WRINKLED BED SHEETS! Oh, the humanity . . .

For the record, Eddie loves the new bedding:



Notice how we are in the process of switching Eddie from his Christmas claw covers to his new purple ones for Easter.

A real hat for an imaginary friend

I've been on a message board of fellow moms for several years now, and even though I've never met most of them, they are so dear to me! I call them my imaginary friends and am grateful every time we move that I have these friendships that follow me wherever I may go.

We talk about everything from parenting to cooking to sex to reality TV (I just read the reality TV threads in case the subject changes to parenting, cooking, or sex), and a couple of months ago, the topic of Flying Spaghetti Monster hats just happened to come up. (To learn more about Flying Spaghetti Monster, click here.) My imaginary friend Deana mentioned that she thought I should make her such a hat, and I laughed it off.

I couldn't stop thinking about it though. Plus I was bored to death with knitting socks, so I thought it might make an interesting diversion if nothing else. I really got into the project though and found myself giggling madly as I crocheted. Fred and the kids even got in on it, urging me every time I thought I was finished that "It needs more noodles!"

I sent the Flying Spaghetti Monster hat to Deana last week, and she was thrilled to receive a present and honored to be touched by His Noodly Appendage. Doesn't she look positively saintly in her new hat?



Personally, I think next she needs a vanity plate for her car:

Spring Break vacation

Oh, it feels so good to have a nice travel story to blog again! We just got home this evening from our Spring Break trip to Utah, where we had such a fantastic time. I couldn't wait to get up here to the computer and start going through my pictures.

John and Michelle, my brother- and sister-in-law, have lived in Utah for several years now, but this was our first chance to get out there and visit them. In fact, this was our first opportunity to meet Morgan and Paige, and we hadn't seen Caroline since she was a baby herself! Annabelle enjoyed near-celebrity status as a real, live girl-cousin--Caroline and Morgan couldn't get enough of her.

The weather was almost balmy when our plane landed Saturday afternoon, but it snowed several inches during the night and continued to snow for most of the next day. John went with us up to Brighton, where Annabelle and I hung out in the cafeteria drinking hot chocolate while John and Fred went skiing and Mike went snowboarding.

It was too blustery and snowy to mess with trying to take photos on Sunday. Fortunately, Monday was beautiful, so Fred managed to get the camera out:



While Fred and Mike were enjoying their adventures on the mountain, Michelle and I loaded up Caroline, Morgan, and Annabelle and took off for the mall. The shopping conditions were perfect, and we scored big-time. Everything Annabelle tried on fit perfectly, and Michelle got 2 pairs of shoes. (Dansko needs to start paying me a commission. I'm like a missionary for the First Church of Comfy Footwear.) Best of all, I FINALLY found a comforter set that I loved, and it was marked down to $60 from $230. When we came out of the mall with our purchases, I was so dazzled by the sight of the looming snow-covered mountains that I had to whip out my camera. This is what a good day of shopping in Utah looks like:



Yesterday was gray and drizzly, so we hung out at John and Michelle's house in the morning and then went into downtown Salt Lake City in the afternoon. The temple really is something to see:



Here's our little gang, posing for a group shot in front of the temple:



Annabelle wanted a chance to play in the snow, so after seeing the sights downtown, we headed back toward Brighton and stopped along the way so that she, Mike, Caroline, and Morgan could sled while Michelle and Paige waited patiently in the nice warm car. It was wet and sloppy on the mountain, but we all had a great time. Fred and John revisited their childhood by pelting each other with snowballs, and the kids had a blast sliding down the hill. I snapped this self-portrait of Fred and me:



Here are Morgan, John, and Caroline sharing a moment in the snow:



I wanted a video clip a la "Jackass" from the sledding, but I was too chicken to do it myself. Fred was willing though and shot this clip for me:



Annabelle had taken special care in costuming Pellet for our Utah adventure, and she was happy he finally had a chance to strut his stuff in the snow:



We arrived back at John and Michelle's house last night wet, cold, happy, and HUNGRY. We ordered pizzas from The Pie and stuffed ourselves silly.

We spent today making our way back east by way of Dallas, stopped at the Outback in Louisville for supper on our way home, and were greeted at the door by one love-starved pussycat. Eddie has apparently taken a vow never to leave our side:

• I have posted all of my unedited Utah pictures here.


• Thank you SO MUCH to everybody who took the time to sign my Guest Map. I love seeing where you guys are from! If you haven't already signed, it's never too late.


• A special thank you to John, Michelle, Caroline, Morgan, and Paige for being such fantastic hosts and helping us to have such an incredible time. We're already making plans for our next trip to Utah!

Setting out cookies and milk for the farting-pig people

A while back, I mentioned that I was getting an awful lot of hits from people who were finding my blog using search terms like "farting pig." It's still going on, and I am really taking a perverse amount of pride in this. I guess one takes one's traffic where one finds it.

I just did a quick survey of my stats for the past 24 hours. Of my 92 hits, a total of 38 people got to this blog courtesy of the farting pig. When you take into account that of the remaining 54 hits one is my mom, and one is my dad, and one is my sister (who only looks at the pictures and never reads the text, so really I could tell you some stories about Jenny, and she would never know--unless Kim rats me out, Kim being yet another of those 92 hits), the farting-pig people are a LOT of my audience.

Being a people pleaser, I wish that I had something to offer to make them want to return another day. And yet, what do I have? The subject of flatulence rarely comes up here, and I hardly ever feature livestock--just the occasional wooden horse. So I can only hope that maybe these people, who obviously share my twisted sense of humor, will find something worth returning for.

One thing I have found is that the enjoyment of farting pigs transcends geographical boundaries. According to my sitemeter, these readers have come from all over the States, from Canada, from the UK, from Belgium, Switzerland, Spain, Turkey! The farting pig is universal.

We will be leaving for Salt Lake City for 5 days on Saturday, and I doubt I will be blogging again between now and then. I have a HUGE favor to ask while I'm gone. See my Guest Map over in the sidebar? I haven't made a big deal out of it, and so far a grand total of 4 people have stuck a pin in the map (THANK YOU, Ivy, Claire, Gretchyn, and Clara!! :::smooch:::). It would make me so happy if while I'm away, maybe you might consider adding a pin from your corner of the world.

You don't have to leave an email address or a website. You don't have to identify yourself as a fan of the farting pig. In fact, feel free to add a disclaimer, something to the extent of "I do not favor the farting pig, and it is merely a coincidence that I arrived here during the season of the porcine tooter," because really, this invitation goes out to all my readers. It will mean the world to me.

Happy belated Pi Day!

Perhaps it escaped your notice, but Pi Day was last week. March 14th, 3/14, get it? Like pi, which are square, if I recall my math lessons correctly.

I don't know how you celebrated, but I'll bet you a nickel you didn't have as much fun as I did. Mike came home from school in a real stinker of a mood about the following homework assignment: "Write a paragraph that makes sense, in which each word has the same number of letters as the digit in that place value of pi taken out 35 places." And lo, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and truth be told, Mike didn't behave much better than I did.

He pleaded with me to write a note exempting him from the assignment. I told him he must be sniffing glue. He said, "Well, I just won't do it then!" I said fine. He was horrified: "But I'll get a homework stamp!!!!!" Then just do the darn work, I suggested. He proclaimed it impossible. I proved it to be quite possible by jotting down the following poem:

Eat!

I love a yummy chocolate.

To easily slurp two pints luscious chocolate.

Swallow chocolate, joy of day!

Calories from heaven.

To gobble down for all eternity.

Now to quickly spoonfeed,

Maybe of delicate tiramisu.

OK, it's not great art, but you try it if you're so clever. Mike was unimpressed and continued to moan and snarl for quite some time.

I fairly danced out of the house that evening on my way to a meeting, leaving Fred to deal with more of the Pi Day fallout once he arrived home from work. When I returned that evening, the kids were in bed. "How was your evening?" I asked. Fred's evening was apparently fine. "REALLY?" I demanded. "No homework problems you would care to share?" Nope, none. It seems Mike finished his homework while Fred was out picking up the fried chicken. This is patently unfair. Why should I be the only one to enjoy the holiday fireworks?

Mike chose an ocean theme for his Pi Day writing, which I just saw for the first time yesterday. (Remember, he was asleep when I got home that night, and I'm barely functional when he catches the bus at 7 a.m.)

Sea: A bird, a clam's waterhome. To follow among the great breakers. Albatross soaring, sea horses arc in awe. Lobsters lark around. An oyster, blue for all eternity. And so, quickly albatross soars. So beautied, balladed . . .

And so another Pi Day has come and gone. I think that next year we should celebrate with pie instead of creative writing. They may not be square, but they sure are easier to make!

Mail call

I was delighted to receive a box of German goodies the other day from my friends Amy and Sibylle:



From left to right, we have:

• the second volume of Der Dativ ist dem Gentiv sein Tod, which translates loosely as "Dative is the Death of Genitive." I love to ponder linguistic oddities, and this book is a collection of essays on interesting points about the German language. It's rather slow reading for me, as I have to consult my little yellow dictionary often, but I'm really enjoying it.


• chocolate! Yum--what more is there to say, especially with my mouth stuffed full of chocolate?


• a DVD of "The Sound of Music," dubbed into German for the first time in honor of the film's 40th anniversary.


• a dishtowel from Amy's trip to Ireland (I decided somewhere during my travels that dishtowels make perfect souvenirs--they are useful, take up next to no storage space, and remind you of all the exotic places you would rather be than your kitchen).


• noodles, noodles, and more noodles! Again, yum! German noodles are the best noodles.


• a CD of the soundtrack to "Les Miz," again auf deutsch. Everybody sing!
  
  Hörst du, wie das Volk erklingt? Von uns'rer Wut erzählt der Wind
  Das ist die Symphonie von Menschen, die nicht länger Sklaven sind
  Jedes Herz schlägt, wie es kann, unsere Herzen trommeln laut
  Alles fängt ganz von neuem an, wenn der Morgen graut


• the original German version of a book that Annabelle really likes--I, Freddy over here; Freddy, ein wildes Hamsterleben over there. I'm currently reading the English version and will then attempt the German one. I'm figuring it has to be easier than the genitive-killing dative book.


• a DVD of "Der bewegte Mann," starring Til Schweiger. I just wish I could have Sibylle with me when I watch it so that she could translate the parts I miss!


• 2 dozen chocolate surprise eggs, what we call in our bastardized German "Kindereggs." I don't care for them, but Mike and Annabelle think they're little ovoids of heaven right here on earth.

Thank you, Amy and Sibylle, for keeping me stocked with German goodies!

Still here . . . just very quiet

Hi, everybody, I'm still here. I seem to have taken a vacation from blogging--a blogcation? I wish I had planned on doing so in advance, so that I could have enjoyed my little break instead of feeling constantly guilty about my inability to post. Instead, I kept meaning to write, day after day, until finally almost 2 weeks had slid by. So, let's see . . . what have you missed? Hmmmmm . . . not much.

Fred has been making quick trips here and there to exotic destinations such as Syracuse, NY, and Fort Jackson, SC. The kids are continuing to enjoy school and are doing quite well, as evidenced by this most recent round of report cards. It would be unseemly for me to brag about their grades, so instead I shall just tell you that nobody brought home any consonants.

And me? Now that Gold Rush is over (except for the thank-you notes and after-action report I have yet to write), I have turned my energies toward a huge indexing project. It seems to dominate most of my time and leaves me little enthusiasm for playing around on the computer.

The good news is that I have lots of pictures that I have been meaning to blog, so I shall try and get those posted over the next few days. I want to leave you with a little something to remember me by when I disappear next Saturday for another 5 days. We are all headed out west to Salt Lake City to visit Fred's youngest brother and his family! I may or may not try snowboarding again while we're out there. Here's an idea--why don't you go to the old blog and revisit our Thanksgiving snowboarding adventure from 2 years ago while I try to think of something to write about?

What have we done?!

For most of our last year in Germany, Mike begged for a guitar and guitar lessons, so we promised him that once we got settled back in the States, we would make it a priority. We bought him an acoustic guitar in October, and it rarely left his hands after that (only for meals, showers, and Xbox 360). Our house was filled with lovely melodies. And it was good.

We knew from the beginning that his ultimate goal was to learn to play electric guitar. He really started begging a few weeks ago when his guitar teacher (who happens to own a music store) let him mess around on one. We finally decided on a deal whereby Mike would buy the guitar and we would buy the amplifier.

This, we informed him, would definitely have to be a basement toy. What we hadn't counted on was how effectively our air ducts transmit sound! Our house throbs and pulsates with the sound of music. Very loud music.



I'm afraid that I am a consistent disappointment to Mike. He plays a bit and asks, "Recognize that?" Sadly, the answer is always no, prompting Mike to inquire as to whether or not I own a radio. I do indeed own a radio, but Mike doesn't play NPR's greatest hits.

He is counting on you, my cool readers, to recognize his music. So now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to play Name Those Tunes! Don't let him down.

Note: You might want to turn your speakers down a bit. Or even don protective ear gear:



Mike also says to tell you that he welcomes suggestions for songs to learn.

Relax, Eddie

My poor, uptight cat:

Gold Rush--the after-action report

Gold Rush last night was a smashing success! This is a huge annual fundraiser for the Ft. Knox OCSC (last year it brought in close to $40,000) and involves planning on a scale at least as grand as the allied invasion of Normandy. Perhaps even more so, as the Allies didn't have to worry about coordinating fake horse races, a live auction, a silent auction, a sweet shop, a general store, blackjack, poker, and a shooting gallery. And food. Oh, and dancing girls:



If you click here, you can watch the dancing girls do their thing. I think the 2 on the either end are especially fetching.

I was in charge of the "Run for the Gold," the fake auction and subsequent racing of fake horses. Here are some of this year's racers waiting patiently in my back yard to get hauled over to the club:



I decorated 2 of the horses myself. I am pleased to introduce Unikolt (The Pottery Pony), named by my sister:





and Sure Thing (The Trojan Horse), named by my (previously invisible) friend Claire:





Unikolt sold for $80 and Sure Thing went for $110. Overall, the horse auction raised $1,255, which will go towards the club's welfare budget for next year and will support many worthy causes. I'm especially delighted to announce that Sure Thing was the champion racer for the evening and won his new owner a Dell computer!

I have been tied up in knots for the past couple of weeks worrying about the math involved in figuring the odds to pay out on the winning horse: "Where a, b, c, d, e, and f represent the total amount wagered on each horse and the total equals x . . . " It was all "blah blah blah Ginger" to me. Fortunately, we had students from the Armor Officers Basic Course helping out for the night, and I got assigned a crackerjack math team:



My friend Sherri, who has decorated horses for each of the past 2 Gold Rushes, warned me not to get too attached to my ponies. I guess I didn't pay close enough attention though, because by the end of the evening I was a little sad that Unikolt and Sure Thing wouldn't be going home with me. My kitchen seems so empty without them! Fortunately, Sure Thing's owner is a friend of mine, and she has promised me liberal visitation rights.

I was happy, however, to bring home a signed first edition of Nelson Demille's latest book, which I scored for $40 in the silent auction, AND the ugliest monkeys known to man. Gaze in awe at their ugliness:



Don't you think it looks like that one monkey is puking into the leaf? You can't tell it from the pictures, but the cookie-jar monkey's head comes off when you remove the lid. I've been secretly lusting after them ever since our pricing party for the general store last week, so when Fred was looking for something to spend his gambling winnings on, I sent him off on a monkey hunt.

We didn't get home until well past midnight, and it has taken me most of the day to recover. Still, I'm glad I participated in Gold Rush . . . and I'm REALLY glad it's over!

Bonnie and the ponies

I was worried that moving to Kentucky might mean getting caught up in betting on horse racing. I just never thought I would be so involved in the racing of fake horses.

There I was, peacefully minding my own business, when my friend May came over to chat. Wham, bam, thank-you-ma'am, and the next thing I knew, I was spearheading Run for the Gold, a part of the Fort Knox OCSC's annual Gold Rush fundraiser. Get it? Gold? Fort Knox? I'm slow--somebody had to point that out to me.

Basically here's how Run for the Gold works. Twelve volunteers decorate little wooden horse cutouts, which are then auctioned at the beginning of Gold Rush (this coming Saturday night). There are 3 "races," in which the horses move according to the roll of a die. The first 2 races are the qualifying heats, with the top 3 finishers from each moving on to run in the big race at the end of the night. The owner of the horse that wins this race receives some fabulous prize (yet to be determined).

During all 3 of the races, the crowd is invited to "bid" on the horses using the chips that they get with their entrance ticket. Yours truly here has to do the math to figure out how much everybody wins. There is ALGEBRA in last year's after-action report. How horrifying is that?!

It looked for a while like we were going to have trouble getting all 12 horses farmed out for decoration, so I decided to take on 2 of them. I've been working hard on my horsies. Really. I have.



OK, so there's no photographic evidence of my efforts, but I have been hard at work. I'm decoupaging both horses, so I have been all about the tiny scissors and glue. (Given that I am our designated family photographer, there rarely are photos of me. I have often said that one day Fred is going to divorce me and submit the kids' scrapbooks into evidence during the custody battle. "Your honor, you can clearly see that this woman has had nothing to do with those children. Ever.")

I've been taking in other people's horses as they get finished, prompting Mike to ask: "Are we running some sort of shelter for these things, or what?" I think my horses are looking pretty cool, but some of the competition is STIFF! Here's a picture of a couple who are currently hanging out in my basement:



I'll post pictures of mine once Fred and Annabelle get them finished. I mean, once I get them finished.

Oh, my.

Do not click here unless you want to see Brokeback Mountain reenacted by Lego characters.

More assigned reading

Hmmm . . . I seem to be reading a lot of teacher blogs these days. You really need to go here, where a high-school (I presume) English teacher shares some noteworthy writing by one of his young charges. The assignment was to write about favorite songs. Here's one of my favorite parts:

Snoop also creates suspense in his song. For example, he inquires, "How many hoes in '94 will I be bangin'?" Now it is 2006, so he probably knows by now how many he has banged. But this still creates suspense. It leaves the listeners wondering just how many hoes will need to be banged by Snoop. They will want to listen longer so they can find out.

Tag, Suzie's it!

Several weeks ago, we had a frenzy of tagging for prom pictures, and my aunt was kind enough to provide me with a stunning photo of my mom in formal attire. Mom and I decided that Suzie should play, too, so I tagged Suzie with a request for photos of her all dressed up with someplace to go.

Here she is in a Junior Miss Pageant in 1965:



And here's a scrapbook page that provides before and after shots of her and my uncle, taken on the occasion of the 1969 Marine Corps Ball:



They clean up right purty, dontcha think? Thanks for playing, Suzie!

Assigned reading

Please go here to read a hilarious compare-and-contrast essay on the films Curious George and Brokeback Mountain, written in the voice of a Freshman Composition student. I just about wet my pants laughing. Thanks to my invisible friend Barbara for providing me with the link.

With apologies to the neighbors across the street

All the windows in our house here in Kentucky had miniblinds hanging in them when we moved in, except for the ones in the master bathroom. Those windows have frosted glass, and the toilet is situated in such a way that one could sit on the throne and wave to passersby, if the window were open and if one were so inclined. When the kids and I got here from Florida and saw the house for the first time, I brought this to Fred's attention, and he said, "No, it's OK, nobody can see in because of the frosted glass." I took this to mean that he had TESTED this and found it to be true. This was in early October.

Fast forward to last Wednesday night. I'm walking home from my coffee down the street. Somebody has left the light on in our bathroom, and I can see--plain as day--my grubsuit hanging on the back of the open door, which is next to the window. I spent the rest of the week peeing in the dark and waiting for Fred to come home from DC. Turns out the person who walked Fred through the house when he took possession of it gave him that line in response to his query about the lack of blinds and he believed them!

There are blinds on the windows now, neighbors. You can return to whatever it is you were doing before the peep show moved in across the street.

A hitchhiker's guide to Fort Knox

I was running late this morning, on my way to Annabelle's parent-teacher conference. As I was driving down our street, I thought the car sounded a bit funny, but I was a woman with a mission, and I wasn't about to be stopped by some stupid sound. Until I saw the mailman jumping up and down, waving at me. This seemed a little more vigorous than his usual greeting, so I rolled down the window. "You have a flat tire," he informed me. A flat tire? You mean like this?



I stuck the car back into its parking space behind the house and rang my next-door neighbor's doorbell. Unfortunately, she wasn't there, and it was starting to look like I was going to have to walk. That wouldn't have been such a bad thing (nice and warm here today), but it's a good 20-minute walk, and I had 5 minutes to make it to the meeting. So as I trotted down the street, I decided to flag down the first car I saw and throw myself on the driver's mercy. I wound up catching a soldier in a pickup truck. I asked him if he would mind driving me to my daughter's school without raping me and leaving me for dead in a gutter somewhere. He was agreeable to my terms, so off we went. I made it to my meeting, unraped and undead (but not in a zombie way), with seconds to spare.

The meeting was pretty much what I had expected: "Wow, what a great kid! So smart and so polite! Truly a pleasure to have in class! A testament to your superior parenting." OK, maybe not that last part, but the rest is all verbatim.

I left the school and began my trudge towards home when . . . you guessed it . . . it started to rain. Lo and behold, a car pulled up beside me, and the driver (this time a woman a little younger than me) rolled down her window and offered me a ride. Today seems to be my day to depend on the kindness of strangers, so I gratefully accepted and arrived home just before the sky truly opened up.

This was my first time hitchhiking . . . since 1987. I had gone to London from Germany with my friend Sarah. Sarah was planning on heading north to Scotland, and I was eager to get back to the continent, where my Eurailpass would be valid. We were sitting in the lobby of the youth hostel, listening to this Danish guy named Klaus talk about his plans for hitchhiking back to Denmark the next day. I said, "Wow, that sounds like fun," and the next thing I knew, he was asking me to join him.

I was hesitant. After all, my mother always said I shouldn't hitchhike. But she never specifically said I shouldn't hitchhike from one country to another with a really cute guy I had known less than 24 hours, so I decided to go for it.

We set out bright and early the next morning. We bought tickets on the ferry from Dover and then stuck out our thumbs once we hit the other side. That first night we got picked up by 2 British soldiers on their way back to their base in Dortmund, Germany. They smuggled us onto the base and let us sleep on wooden cots in the brig. We spent the second night in sleeping bags under the stairs at the port, waiting for the ferry to Denmark. Once we made it to Denmark, we bought tickets on a local train to Copenhagen, because frankly we were exhausted, and hitching was starting to lose some of its appeal.

It was a marvelous adventure though! We met so many interesting people. Besides the British soldiers, I specifically recall getting picked up by what looked to me like punk rockers who were driving a funky car called a Duck. We also got picked up by a trucker and by an older German gentleman in a BMW sedan. I struggled along making conversation in my limited German. I asked him what he did for a living, but I had the hardest time figuring out his answer. Somehow in 2 years of college German I had never learned the phrase for "importer and exporter of bull semen."

I stayed in Denmark for a couple of days with Klaus (who was a perfect gentleman, so get yer minds out of the gutter) before taking the train home to Freiburg and onward to Switzerland. I went into my scrapbook a little while ago looking for pictures from my hitchhiking adventure, but all that I could find--besides a postcard featuring the top sights of Copenhagen--was a little strip of pictures that Klaus and I took in a photo booth in the train station:



Klaus . . . what a great Dane!

Accordion music and bellydancing for Valentine's Day

Fred and I don't usually go out on Valentine's Day. Restaurants are just too crazy on that night, so we stay away. This year though, one of the women in my international spouses coffee group was hosting a special Valentine's dinner at her Greek restaurant. I wanted to go to support her business and also because I was curious about the professional(!) bellydancer(!) from Louisville(!).

I hadn't realized there would be accordion music, too, but there was:



We dined on gryos and Greek salads and some really amazing baklava and enjoyed the bellydancing show:



We had to leave before the plate smashing, which disappointed me, but Fred had an early-morning plane to catch today, and I had a doctor's appointment anyway (OK, so my appointment was with TV doctor Greg House on FOX, but I am very loyal to my regular shows).

It's amazing to think that this time last year, we were coming up on the end of Fred's R&R.

In other Valentine's Day news, Willie Nelson chose yesterday to release his new song, "Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly (Fond of Each Other)." When I heard this, I rushed right over to iTunes and downloaded it. Now Mike is irritated with me, not because I sullied his iTunes library with a gay cowboy song, but because I dared to put Willie Nelson there amongst Nine Inch Nails and Red Hot Chili Peppers. You can listen to a snippet here.

He's a funny guy

Mike's homework for social studies the other day was to create an editorial cartoon. Here it is:



For those of you unable to make out the text next to the smiling flower, it says:

This cartoon is not in any way meant to inflame violence, hatred, or the burning of Danish embassies. Please consult a doctor before reading this or other editorial cartoons. Do not read editorial cartoons while operating heavy machinery, while consuming alcohol, or while taking other medication. All editorial cartoons run the risk of dependency. Some rare but serious side-effects include nausea, headaches, abdominal pain, cramps in the knees and/or elbows, temporary blindness, and increased blood pressure. Paid for by the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

I'd like to say that I don't know where he gets his whacky sense of humor, but I'm afraid I do. I, after all, was the one who suggested in vain that he include "For erections lasting longer than 4 hours . . . " Apparently, the child has more decorum than his mother.

Happy birthday, Jenny!

My baby sister:



is 33 today!



Hope you have a great day, and wish I could be there to help you celebrate. I shall eat some chocolate in your honor.

Welcome to my cloud

The other day I found a link for making a word cloud on Heute hier, morgen dort, one of several blogs that I follow occasionally but haven't gotten around to adding to my list of links out of sheer laziness. Not having anything better to do (that I felt like doing), I made a cloud for my blog:



Kind of boring, but this blog hasn't been around for very long. Then I made another cloud, this one for my old blog. Much more interesting!



I had to fiddle with the words a bit to make it include the names of a lot of the places that we visited during our 2 years in Europe, but I thought it was kind of funny that the names of my friends Amy and Gretchyn popped up all on their own. They must have gotten a lot of coverage in the old blog!

Make your own cloud here!

Mini-wave in celebration of my sister!

Jenny arrived at work this morning and found a card, a “Congratulations” banner, and streamers hanging around her desk. But why, you might be asking. After all, her birthday isn't until NEXT week.

Turns out the celebration is because as of today Jenny has gone 100 days without polluting her lungs with vile cigarette smoke.



Hooray for Jenny!

Weekend update

We wound up putting off our celebration plans for Sunday because of the weather on Saturday. We did go out long enough on Saturday to hit Walmart (hate that place!) for some necessities and to return movies to the PX. On the way to drop off the movies, I made Fred stop along the parade field so I could take these pictures:




Pretty, no?

Perfect day for a birthday

I'm twenty-nineteen today! No major plans to speak of--Fred's coming home from his conference in Nashville tonight, so we'll celebrate tomorrow with a family trip up to Louisville to (finally) see the latest Harry Potter movie, grab dinner out, and fill up an ice chest at Whole Foods. Today? Hmmm . . . there might be chocolate cupcakes in my very near future.

Here are some pictures of me from waaaaay back when. I'm thinking I must be around 2, 'cause I hardly ever hold my skirt up like that for photos these days:



Other cool people celebrating birthdays today: my cousin Ally and my friend Sibylle's son Konstantin. Happy birthday to us all!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Today's a good day to put up some photos I've been sitting on since September. We have groundhogs here! That's one of my very favorite things about Kentucky. They're so darn cute:





Every time I see a groundhog, I am overcome by an urge to hug it. Sadly, the groundhogs do not seem to have much interest in being hugged.

Cousin It . . .

. . . is kind of a redhead in the right light:

A new month, a new cat

No, not a real cat! It's just that I realized today that with this being February and all, it's time for me to turn the page in my 2006 Gatti di Roma calendar that I bought in Rome last year. I'm going to miss these guys:



I am, however, looking forward to 4 blissful weeks of staring at this handsome fellow:



I miss Rome. :::sigh:::

New word for the English language!

I saw 4 movies in 2005, and one of those was the same movie a second time only in German. I've been wanting to see Brokeback Mountain though and knew I could wait a really long time for it to come to a theater near me. Since I had a hair appointment in Louisville this morning at 9, I decided to make a day of it, just me, myself, and I.

I spent a nice, relaxing couple of hours at the salon and am now kind of a redhead if the light hits me juuuuuuust right. I had a couple of hours to kill before the movie, so I went to Target to get something to read over lunch. (I find People magazine to be the perfect dining companion--it's packed with short, interesting snippets that are easy to read between bites; it stays open on its own, unlike most books; and it's cheap, so if you get queso dip on it, who cares?)

My stylist had recommended I try Qdoba Mexican Grill, so I did. I was hoping that it would be a lot like my favorite lunch spot in San Antonio, Habaneros Grill. It was similar, but Habaneros remains number one in my heart. I munched on steak nachos while I learned how Jennifer Aniston is coping in the wake of that whole Brangelina thing.

After lunch I moseyed over to the theater and bought my ticket. This was only the second time I've gone to the movies alone, so it still feels vaguely naughty to me.

Loved, loved, LOVED Brokeback Mountain! I got teary several times and felt rather melancholy afterwards, but I'm so glad that I got to see it. (If you've seen it, email me, 'cause I've got questions! That's the worst part about watching a movie alone--nobody to share the debriefing on the drive home.)

But, Bonnie, you say, where is this new word? A ha! I was just getting to that. So this evening, I'm on the phone with my sister and I'm telling her about what a splendid time I had on my date with myself, and she says . . . "You masturdated." Eureka! Masturdation--to go on a date with one's self.

I even googled to see if maybe it was already a word. What I found is that there are a whole lot of people out there who can't spell masturbation. You know what's sad though? My sister will never know that I have blogged about her gift to the English language, because SHE ONLY LOOKS AT THE PICTURES ON MY BLOG.

• My invisible friend Jilly found this really funny spoof of a preview for Brokeback Mountain that features footage from Top Gun.


• My Republican friends (hey, I have more than you might think!) should probably avoid clicking here and here unless they want to see Brokeback Mountain posters featuring Bush and Cheney. Everybody else, feel free to click.