Friday Cemetery Blogging

Here is a cemetery fence from Santa Fe.

And then there is the fertilizer photo. There is a lot that should probably remain unsaid about this. Heh, heh.

Santa Fe Depot

We went to the depot, of course.

I needed a new Santa Fe train shirt.

We wandered around among the train cars.

And were impressed with Katie's chameleon-like abilities.

I followed the tracks of the elusive Swamp Thing.

Then we played on the caboose for a while.

I really don't know if we were allowed to climb around on the trains like we did.

One of the engines was still running!

But no one tried to stop us, so we had a good time.

As for the depot itself - not all that impressive.

Fake Cow City has a more interesting version of the Santa Fe Depot.

I'll post pictures of it another time.

Saint Francis Cathedral

The first church I go to in Santa Fe is usually the St. Francis Cathedral. It is right on the edge of the plaza and is a very opulent, beautiful place. After making the rounds of the booths in the courtyard and picking up a t-shirt in the gift shop, Jackson kept looking over his shoulder, half expecting some Jewish guy to come along and drive the merchants out of the temple.

This is a picture of the main entrance doors. A lot of right-handed people attend services here.

This is the top of a confessional, silhouetted in a stained glass window.

(To be perfectly accurate, I just realized this is actually from the church with the mysterious staircase. I am too tired to remember the name of it and don't feel like googling. Somebody help me out - which church is this?)


The next photo is from the inside of the St. Francis. There are stunning bits of mural all over the walls and columns. They are doing some fantastic restoration work on this art. You can see the artist in the pool of light on the bottom left of the photo.

I seem to have a thing for Catholic candles. One of my all-time favorite photos, which you can see in the sidebar, is a shot of some of them lit behind glass by an altar. This is also from the interior of the St. Francis.

I think it may become a favorite as well.

I got my Santa Fe photos developed...

Times are tough all over.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

Speed Kills.

Or was killed.

Or something like that.

Spring is Broke

Looks like March has been a slow month for this blog. Life is busy.

Sometimes too busy. Busy is for the birds.
Its the slacker life for me!

We took a couple of days off last week and made our foray to Santa Fe. When it comes to road trips, I like to leave as early as possible. That way, by the time the sun comes up, I will be seeing something new.

We made it about an hour down the road and had to stop for breakfast. Its the most important meal of the day, you know! Jackson has a thing for the Waffle House. (I can't really complain because I have a similar thing for powdered eggs. With lots and lots of black pepper. Especially as used in Taco Villa breakfast burritos.) He was driving so guess where we pulled off the highway? Breakfast was good and the smoke was surprisingly thin. As we finished up, a familiar vehicle, known in the family as Mama's Gween Van, pulled into the parking lot. Opie Capone and his family evidently had the same idea on their way out of town as well. What are the chances?

We had a good trip. Had to stop at Cline's Corners of course and pay homage to the gods of the tourist trap. While there Katie had a giggling good time trying on the sombreros. When we got to Santa Fe we hung out at the plaza, visited tons of churches and explored the countryside. We actually decided, at the last minute, not to stay at Glorieta and picked a hotel in town. We did sneak out there on our last day however, to go hiking. There was a sign at the gate, visible as we snuck back out. It said "Your service begins now." I was a bit puzzled and asked Jackson if he thought it had something to do with cell phones. He sighed and explained about how the conference attendee had been educated, uplifted and otherwise motivated and now had the responbility of performing their Christian service for others when they left the facility.

Oh. Well. My cell phone still didn't have a signal. Maybe it wasn't the only thing missing a signal. Ha!

I got to make my once-a-decade trip to the Santa Fe Depot. I love Santa Fe trains and the Santa Fe depot in Santa Fe sells really great train t-shirts. I'd worn my last one to an absolute nub and this time I scored a way cool Santa Fe-Southern sweatshirt. (Am I the only one who was really upset over the Santa Fe/Burlington Northern merger? I don't know nuthin' bout the railroad bidness, but I know an ugly-ass train engine when I see 'em. Burlington Norhtern's engines look like pumpkin sausages - not nearly as cool as Santa Fe engines. I miss plain old Santa Fe.)

Tomorrow I will mail off my film from the trip for developing. The only place left in town that does film developing is Wal-Mart. Ugh. They don't do a really great job, so I fight my impatience and use a snail mail service. One of these days I will have an extra thousand bucks and buy a new digital camera. Until then, I'll rely on the US postal service to get me my photos.

Have Trunk - Will Travel

If you've been reading comments on various blogs that are linked here, you will have heard of the Texas Towncar of Justice. Now we have a logo! Helps to have a public relations whore in the family - although he prefers the title Ass. Director of Communications or something like that. Opie Capone has designed us a kickin' logo for the Texas Towncar O' Justice. T-Shirts and bumper stickers available at the store. Click on the link in the sidebar.

Gashlycrumb Tinies: My Favorite!

You will be smothered under a rug. You're a little
anti-social, and may want to start gaining
new social skills by making prank phone
calls.

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by

Friday Cemetery Blogging

"See Spot. See Spot run. Run Spot, run!"

If you killed the rabbit, is it still good luck?

Jackson sent me an email this afternoon:

Tonight I thought we might just go out and grab something for dinner. I had set out some meat to cook but Omar decided he liked to smell of it. By the time I heard something fall off the counter in the kitchen, it was too late. He had already chowed on a big part of it so I threw it and him out. Then, of course, he comes back in with a rabbit's foot. (Note: NOT THE KIND YOU BUY IN STORES.) He would not let go of it so I threw him out again with the foot in his mouth. He turns around and does the same thing all over again three times in a row, so the third time I threw him out and locked the cat door so he could not get back in with that thing. So he may be pissed off and be gone for a few days.

I guess we'll be eating Mexican food in celebration of Texas Independence Day tonight.

Conversion Imminent.

Baptists are the trailer trash of protestant denominations.

Its true. I oughtta know.

You remember last week's cemtery blog about the town/cemetery in White Oaks, New Mexico? Polarbear left a comment about a place called Ghost Ranch. I was intrigued.

We are planning to go to Santa Fe during spring break. I love Santa Fe. but Jackson and Katie have never been there. When I've been there in the past, I always stayed at Glorieta, a church camp/convention center run by the Southern Baptist Convention. It was cheap, clean and you could eat a dang good breakfast in the cafeteria before spending the rest of the day in Santa Fe or Taos or somewhere.

Its been 7 or 8 years since I've been to Glorieta. I absolutely, adamantly, and unequivocably refuse to attend any of the conferences held there. Pardon me while I spit and kick the dirt.

I do not a good church camper make.

One reason I haven't been to Glorieta in the last few years is that the campus is now managed by a company called Lifeway. I may be way off base here, but I am assuming this is the same company that also runs what used to be called the Baptist Bookstores.

When I was a kid, I had to spend a lot time in those bookstores on a fairlly regular basis. My brother and I generally left with some sort of cool toy or book. I took my treasures home and scraped off the obligatory bible verses that were inscribed on everything.

Anyway, when the fundamentalists took over the Southern Baptist Convention, their gihad included setting up a new company to take over the bookstores. Now they are Lifeway bookstores.

Granted, I haven't darkened Lifeways doors more than twice, but, bah! - they're depressing. No more cool toys. No more flannel board disciples either, but I guess I can't fault them for that. Lifeway Bookstores are the sort of places that make you seriously consider wearing an aluminum foil hat as protection from the mind control ray beams.

Anyway, Lifeway is now running Glorieta. I crossed my fingers, bit my tounge and made reservations. Then I googled Ghost Ranch.

I was downright embarrassed. Those Presbyterians have really outdone us. Their New Mexcio mountain retreat center has a classier website, a more interesting schedule of events and Georgia O'Keefe. Georgia. Freakin'. O'Keefe.

They are enviormentally responsible, committed to community service and even though they are tax exempt, they make a yearly contribution to their county government. Not to mention they have a way-better name and a kick- ass logo.

Gloriata's website has a real nice section devoted to how you can give your money to support their "life-changing" programs. My personal favorite - the adopt a rocking chair campaign. Glorieta's philosophy seems to center on making the individual better - in this case, less individualistic. Ghost Ranch's philosophy appears to concentrate on the individual making society better.

Oh, one more thing: when making a reservation with Glorieta, you are REQUIRED to submit the name of the church where you are a member. I wonder if they will be consulting with our minister to make sure we are in good standing before issuing a room key?


Discuss amongst yourselves: Will there be Gideon Bibles in the rooms? Or would that be considered an insulting suggestion that the lodger wouldn't have packed their own highlighted, heavily underlined and note-inscribed tome?

And can I just say...

...how thrilled I am to be the number one site on Google for the search "children who refuse to attend church." Its like all my little preacher kid dreams have come true. I'd like to thank the academy...

Friday Cemetery Blogging

Cherub Rocks Hard On Air Guitar

He was playing Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust"

while I took this photo.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

Here's another fence photo. This one if from a cemetery on a mountain side close to White Oaks, New Mexico. White Oaks is an interesting place. Very creepy in a distinctly Stephen King sort of way. Everything looks pretty normal on the surface, but you can feel someone or something watching you all the time. After a few minutes you find yourself staring at the windows of the houses, looking for whatever is staring back at you.

If you check out the White Oaks website, the Cedarvale Cemetery is where I took the fence photo. The website is all happy-cheery about how it is a tourist attraction/ghost town. If you notice the fine print on the side, it states that other than the summer, the only things open are the saloon and pottery works. I can attest to the truth of that. Its advertised as a ghost town, which is not really true as there appear to be quite a few village residents still hanging around. They give the place a freaky Ed Wood kind of ambiance. Jackson and I felt sort of like we were Fred and Daphne, pulling into town in the Mystery Machine. We tiptoed around expecting some squint-eyed prospector to warn us meddling kids out of town. By sundown. If we knowed what's good fer us.

~shiver~

I Choo-choo-choose You!

M2 and I spent a long afternoon warming the pews in a courtroom today. During a lull in one of the hearings she leaned over and whispered,

"Are you going to be my Valentine?"
"You know it!" I replied in kind.
"What are you going to buy me?"
"You know how they say its the thought that counts?"
"Yeah," she said.
"I'm gonna think about you."

Johari Window

I stole this from Cheesehead, who stole it herself. She's such a thief.

Its sort of interesting. Check it out.

http://kevan.org/johari?name=Spookyrach

Gimme some of that really, really old time religion...

I got home last night. It was raining in Austin when I left. No such luck here. The first thing I did when I got back here (well, ok, not the first thing) was to get some decent Mexican food. I had been jonesing for it, bad. My cousin M - he, his wife and I had a great dinner while I was there - has said that its hard to get good Mexican food in Austin. He's so right!

It was a really long hard week, but everything went well. I rocked on the student teaching portion of the training - something that is always right up there with root canals on my list of things to avoid. Didn't stress too much over the exam and that went well too.

I also had to attend a 12 step meeting during the week. Monday night I ventured out into the city, looking for Narcotics Anonymous. After 45 minutes of going in circles, I realized the concierge had entered the wrong address into mapquest. I stopped a couple of dog-walking yuppies and they pointed me in the right general direction. I ended up at a moldy old Methodist Church in a creepy neighborhood. It was so cool! It was too late to have light to take pictures, but the building was an amoeba-like structure built from stone onto the side of a ravine. It smelled like an old castle should.

The NA meeting was made up of a really interesting and diverse group of people. There were state employees, secretaries, auto mechanics, people with mental illness who lived on disability, bikers, former hookers, single mothers who brought their kids and on and on. Black, white, Asian, Hispanic. It was great to see all of these people who were probably so compartmentalized and polarized in outside society come together with a common purpose - all on equal footing.

For once, I didn't spend much time with the camera this week. I did go to the Texas State Cemetery. It was extensively restored and spiffed up in a three-year project in the mid 1990's. Everything was so shiny-new and the McMonuments and McBurials were so "done" that they were bereft of any character. I didn't even get out of the car. Bah! Give me a forgotten cemetery in a crummy neighborhood any day of the week.

I spent half of yesterday afternoon in various lines at the airport. Got a lot of good reading done. (I found a book by a brand new mystery author. Its the first in a series. So far, so good.) At one point, the PA announcer deadpanned "Will the band members of Kosher Gospel please meet their contact at the baggage claim information desk." Kosher Gospel? I had to laugh. Evidently no one else was listening or if they were they didn't think it was funny, because I immediately had a lot more space in line.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

This photo is of probably the two most famous graves I have photographed so far. The graves are located behind the General Store in Lincoln, New Mexico.

They are the gravesites of John Tunstall and Alexander McSween.

If anybody explores the site long enough to find out why the El Paso Police Deparment is keeping a photo of Tunstall on their special projects division website, let me know.

I also loaded this photo of rain clouds that I took the same day as the grave photo. I just wanted to remember what rain clouds look like. Yesterday was day 98 without rain.

Last night, it rained.

I really loved this article.

Click here.

Those darn cats!

Jackson bought me acrylics for Chirstmas. Then he bought me this way cool wooden box for all my painty-things. I feel like a real live Ar-teest. I have been dying to start painting for weeks, but couldn't decide on a subject. Finally, after wandering around a bookstore a couple of weeks ago, I found my inspiration. I want to paint pulp art. This weekend I painted my first picutre - a picture of The Shadow.

I spread my paints and supplies out on the dining room table and got to work. Unfortunately, all that activity drew quite a crowd. Not content to stand on the edges and observe the process, they just made themselves comfortable.



Archie has always envisioned himself as an expert on whatever you are reading. He positions himself wherever he can obscure the most information. This allows him to give you the benefit of his advice without all that extraneous information clogging up the conversation.



Omar tired quickly of the whole thing.



I managed to complete my work, even with all their help. Maybe next time I will just paint cats.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

I love cemetery fences.

I need a big, slightly decrepit, Victorian house surrounded by cemetery fence.

I have a small bit of garden in my front yard that has bits and pieces of cemetry-type fence around it. I put lots of crosses in the garden in an attempt to make it feel cemetery-ish. Instead, it just looks like we are overly-religious.

Just a dang meme.

Stole this from Songbird:

1) When you looked in the mirror first thing this morning, what was the first thing you thought? Bleh.
2) How much cash do you have on you? $0.32. I never have cash, since I began my love affair with the debit card. Not neccesarily a good thing when you need a coke from the machine.
3) What's a word that rhymes with TEST? Best.
4) Planet? Mars.
5) Who is the fourth person on your missed calls? Jackson. Nobody else ever calls me. Sigh. Maybe because my phone is never on...?
6) What is your favourite ring on your phone? Currently the theme from the Pink Panther, which makes me happy, but it is really difficult to hear.
7) What shirt are you wearing? A fuzzy red fleece shirt.
8) What do you label youself as? Liberal. Mostly.
9) Name the brand of shoes you've recently worn. Ummm... I have no idea. They were brown?
10) Bright room or dark room? Darkroom. Hee hee. Generally a dim room is my preference. I despise overhead lighting. It makes me grumpy.
11) What were you doing at midnight last night? Trying to turn over without angering the cat sleeping on my feet. Evil Steve does not cotton to unnecessary noctornal repositioning.
12) What did the last text message on your phone say? See #5. No one texts me either.
13) Where is your nearest 7-11? Big Flat City, 45 miles south of here.
14) What's a saying you say a lot? Bastards! They're all bastards!
15) Who told you they loved you last? Jackson.
16) Last furry thing you touched? Evil Steve
17) How many drugs have you done in the past three days? Hi, my name is Spooky and I haven't had a benadryl in 2 days.
18) How many rolls of film do you need to get developed? Lord, undeveloped film drives me crazy. Not only do I end up using the one hour developer most of the time, even though they do a crappy job, I pretty much stand there patting my foot and counting the minutes before the photos will be in my hot little hands. (Saving my pennies for a way-too-expensive digital camera. Can't wait!)
19) Favourite age you've been so far? I have no idea. I never thought about it before.
20) Your worst enemy? People who do not understand the distinction between mute and moot. They are two totally different words - pronounced differently, spelled differently, and with different meanings. How hard is this to freakin' understand? Its MOOT, people. Rhymes with BOOT. Learn it. Use it. Stop ticking me off.
21) What is your current desktop picture? This.
22) What was the last thing you said to someone? "...and this time take a regular shower!"
23) If you had to choose between a millions bucks and being able to fly, which would you choose? Defintely flying. Yep. We superhero-types need powers like that.
24) Do you like someone? What 7th grade girl originally wrote this?
25) The last song you listened to? Annie Lennox's version of "Whiter Shade of Pale"

Three Cat Night

We have a new cat. This morning was the first time that Evil Steve agreed to eat with him, so it looks like he's going to get to stay. His name is Omar Jones. He's the one on the right. Doofus Archie is chowing down in the middle and Evil Steve is sneaking in on the left side. Better pictures to follow, I'm sure.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

I say tomato. You say tomahto.

Katie is doing a social studies project for school. Jackson and I are not too good at this sort of thing, since we are coming into the game late. (The teachers haven't had four years of school to get us trained in proper parent participation etiquette.) Katie chose to do her project on Sam Houston. We did ok on the fact sheet. We are dreading making the soap bottle doll. But we can damn sure ace the informative poster - 'cause who else is gonna have a picture of their subject's grave to paste right up top? Huh? Huh?

Strangely unsettling, first thing in the morning.

Remember the little old ladies with knees and oatmeal? On my way to work this morning, they weren't there. The lights were on, the shade was up, the chairs were at the table. But no oatmeal-eating dowagers.

They've ceased being characters in an Edward Hopper painting and become characters in a painting from Harry Potter's world.

They'll be right back. I hope.

I still refuse to attend on Sunday nights.

My cousin D has a daughter who is the same age as Katie and also in the fourth grade. Her daughter, D Jr., and Katie both have a problem with bringing home their work from school. D tried every threat, promise and punishment she could think of, but no luck. D Jr. still consistently forgot to bring her homework home. D finally came up with a solution. D Jr. loves clothes and is a stickler about her appearance. D told her that everytime she forgot her homework, D was going to pick out the clothes D Jr. would wear to school the next day. It only took a time or two of D Jr. having to wear the God-awful clothes her mother chose to teach D Jr. to bring her work home.

Katie has the same problem. Her homework gets left at school night after night. Not so hard to remember, I thought, but evidently I was wrong. We've prodded, pushed, cajolled and threatened. With limited success.


When Katie came to live with us full time this summer, we started attending church on Wednesday nights. I could tell you it was because we wanted to expose her to as many good influences as possible. Or that we wanted to set a good example for her and be more faithful to the church. Or that we wanted her to be exposed to as much positive teaching as we could. Of course, you wouldn't believe any of that.

The truth is we started going to Wednesday night services because they serve a really good meal and Jackson was tired of cooking dinner every night.

Our church has a thoughtful, perceptive Children's minister. She made it a point to invite Katie to get involved in the children's choirs that meet after the meal. For some as yet undiscovered reason, Katie was uninterested. The minister approached her a couple of times but Katie wanted no part of it. So, after a couple of weeks, the minister approached Katie again. This time she told her she had a special job for her. They needed some extra help with the little kids in the nursery during Wednesday night choir practice. Could they count on Katie?

Could they ever! The minister had hit on the perfect plan. Katie feels like she has a special occupation all her own. The actual nursery workers are college students and education majors who are student teaching at Katie's school. Katie feels like she has hit the big time by getting to hang out with them. They pay her in band-aids each week. I'm not sure who's idea that was (I suspect Katie) but I'm glad to know she works so cheap. Katie loves this job so much she won't hear of us skipping a Wednesday night service. Truthfully, most of the time I would rather be sitting at home in front of the fireplace rather than going to church, but Katie would hitchhike if she thought we weren't going to drive her.


This week Katie has been especially lax with the homework. Jackson lectured on the way to school this morning. Only this time he had a new approach. He told her if she didn't bring her work home she wasn't going to get to go to church tonight. Katie was stunned. She couldn't believe we'd actually make her stay home from church. Jackson made it clear that he was serious.

Guess where I'm writing this? At church.
Guess what Katie is doing when we get home? Her homework.

Why I Love Austin

Vote Spooky for Prez

We made it back from Austin, no worse for wear. The seminar we attended was very informative - as usual. Our favorite speaker was a nice little churchy-type lady. She was pushing 65 or so. She was petitie, grey-haired and ever so slightly frumpy. She also has a Phd. in addiction science and is one of the leading world authorities on trends in drug usage. Her field of expertise covers who uses what, where they use it and where it comes from.

We learned all sorts of interesting stuff, such as when the Taliban fought with the Russians before seizing power, they made the bulk of their money from poppy production. Their poppies supplied heroine to Europe. When the Taliban took power in Afgahnistan, they found other revenue sources and ceased poppy production, since it was contrary to their religious beliefs. This freed up the drug users in Europe to the Central American cocaine marketers and now crack cocaine is the major problem drug in places like Ireland. However, since we put the Taliban out of business, they have restarted poppy production to fund their activities. 'Where will the heroine go now?' is the next burning question.

The methamphetamine epidemic is moving from the midwest straight down the map to the border with Mexico - oposite of the usual pattern of drug movement between us and Mexico. The reason? The easy availability of fertilizer and other farm chemicals, plus the wide open spaces - away from populated areas - that rural America offered. However, since we have tighented up the laws on farm chemicals and made them much more difficult to steal, meth production has moved to Mexico. There illicit chemists make a much purer and more dangerous form of the drug than what was being produced by the rural Mom and Pop Dope Makin' Shops.

Interesting stuff!

The photo is a row of desks in the State House of Representatives. (I can't ever go to Austin without trudging around the capitol for a while. It never fails to inspire. Maybe because I always wanted to be a politician, among other things, when I retire. However, I think Kinky Friedman has stolen the thunder from my Weirdo At Large campaign plans.)

What day is it?

You know its been a busy week when you don't even realize its Friday until almost noon. This also means that you didn't give any thought to Cemetery blogging.

Its 4:30 p.m. and I am so ready to go the hell home. I've tried to cram two weeks worth of work into one week. A bad idea made worse by the fact that it was a four day week to start out with, which turned into a three day week due to an all day trip to a funeral.

All of the 497 people I have seen in the last three days (well, ok maybe not that many!) have been emotionally needy. They are like Kryptonite! You can't break eye contact cause that's how they are draining your life energy! Argh!

Next week I will be gone all week, so don't expect anything out of me 'till I get back. Since I am going to training for a week with Princess Mindy and M2, I should have some good stories!

And the winner is...

SplineGuy.

It was tough. A couple of you hit exactly on where I was going when I was trying to come up with a caption for this and a couple of you threw me some really hillarious curve balls. But, I gotta admit, for sheer simplicity and to-the-pointedness, I think SplineGuy pegged it!

Congrats!

(This was fun. If you are really sad about not winning and would like a prize package of your very own, feel free to send me your address. Click the email link in the sidebar. I'm kind of a communist at heart and think we should all share the wealth. Plus I have a lot of junk in my desk that I need to get rid of.)

Friday Cemetery Blogging, Part Two

This is the runner up photo for my Christmas card this year. I really like it, but couldn't think of a caption for it. I know there is a perfect caption out there, but I couldn't quite get it.

I still can't think of anything.
What can you come up with?

Just For Fun

Have you checked out M. Hibou's site recently? We've been having tons of fun with a game that grew out of the fake memories meme. Hibou, who's changed his signature to little david, has started a blog dedicated to the game.

Go to Tales of Blogland to play. The rules are simple. Its a blast!

Friday Cemetery Blogging

Peace be to you, fear not. Genesis 43:23

Have a Fearless New Year

2005 Christmas card.

Click on the image to "bigger it up".

Hope you like it!

And I don't want to buy your handmade cards,either.

I was in Big Flat City on Tuesday to see the thyroid doctor and finishing up my Christmas shopping. As I was leaving one of Jackson's favorite places, I was approached by two nice, clean, somewhat vacant-looking young women. They called to me from behind, so I turned around.

"Ma'am. We wanted to talk with you!" said the leader of the two.
"God is everywhere," murmured the other.
"Oh, hello Ariel. Hello Francesca. You're from the Unification church, aren't you? I know what you want to discuss with me. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." I turned and started to leave.
"Ma'am! Ma'am! How did you know that? How did you know our names?"
I just smiled, wished them a happy holiday and walked away.

I never did tell them that they had stopped me in Fake Cow City the day before and given me their Moonie spiel. They'd introduced themselves then and who could forget names like Ariel and Francesca? (I really wanted to ask if those were their Delta Tau names, or what?)

For Lorna and M. Hibou

O Ugly Tree, O Ugly Tree, How smelly are your branches?

This is the tree as it stands today in the "Grand Ballroom" of the Fake Cow County Adult Probation Department. I'm especially fond of the pink tree skirt, aren't you? The empty boxes covered in wrapping paper were a nice touch, but we ransacked them a week or so ago looking for a hidden prize. They haven't been the same since.

Soft focus does wonders for this tree, let me tell ya! By the way - how do you like the heartbeatish lines on the wall in the background? One of my people painted those about 10 years ago. He did most of it on a Saturday morning. He came back the next Saturday to finish. He was significantly less sober the second time. Thus, the lines going left down the hallway from this picture become verrrry waaaavy. Ah, the memories!

I also thought you deserved a close up of the Angel on top of the tree. It took a lot of bending, pushing, and tasteless joking to get her stay on top of that branch. I thought the Ye Olde Camera Phone did a neat job on this photo. You never really know what you're going to get with YOCP (especially indoors) but sometimes its pretty cool.

Its cold outside today.

Its finally raining! This weekend we've had spitty drizzle and this morning it was frozen on the roads. There is much rejoicing! ('Cause of the moisture, not the ice.) However, even though there is but the tiniest bit of ice, and zero snow, we tend to freak out just a bit. (My northern and Midwestern readers would blush for us if they knew how badly we drive when its slippery.) And what better reason to skip your probation appointment, than bad weather? The ONLY person who has made it in to report today lives 45 miles away and was only 15 minutes late for his 8:30 a.m. appointment. And can I also mention that the ice melted by 9:00 a.m.?

So, I have a little time on my hands and I managed to download some photos off my phone. I had this big post planned about them, when I took them, but now I've forgotten most of it. A couple of weeks ago, Mindy, M2 and I decided to make an expedition upstairs. Our reason, ostensibly, was to search for the Christmas tree of old. We used to put up a tree every year in the office, but the tree and decorations got so old as to be embarrassing and we quit doing it. Its been long enough that the tree has phased from old and ugly into nostalgically kitsch-y, so we went to find the tree.


I believe I've mentioned before that my office is located on the bottom floor of an old four story hotel. Fake Cow City is home to the third hotel ever built by Conrad Hilton hisownself. This is not that building. That building is being slowly demolished by alternating encounters with weather and juvenile arsonists. Nope, this ain't the Hilton, but its just as old. This is the Ware Hotel. The upper three floors are largely abandoned. The county uses them for storage and it is a major pigeon and vermin sanctuary.



Each county office has several rooms devoted to storing old records and things like Christmas trees. As you walk down the halls the room doors are labeled in Sharpie, right on the wood: DA's office - files to 1994, Probation Dead Files 1987-1996, Auditor's office, Treasurer - budget reports 1997 - , and so on. I love to explore up there and every couple of years we make up an excuse to acquire a key so we can spend an a few of hours traipsing through bird crap, looking for treasures.

This is on the third floor. I don't know why the exit sign is here. The only exit I could find from here is if you go through the door on the right, break out the windows in the balcony of the honeymoon suite and plummet down to the sidewalk below.

How do you like my ghostly shadow? It makes me feel a bit hollow.

I think I can wrangle a key from one of the more malleable gate-keepers in the near future. I may take a few hours off from work and go exploring with a better camera...

Friday Cemetery Blogging.

With Special Guest Photographer: Sandy, Friend-of-Songbird!

I got my magnet from Songbird this week. Its a bernese mountain dog. She has a couple of these big lovable animals - Sam and Molly. We agreed that when it comes to dogs - bigger is better!



She also included a card featuring a photo by one of her friends/church members. Her friend Sandy went to New York to see Ground Zero and also spent a few days photographing an old cemetery in Brooklyn. According to Songbird, this angel statue captured Sandy's interest and she spent a lot of time taking pictures of it from different angles and at different times of day. I thought this was a great photo. I really loved the card. So here it is:



You get the feeling of hope and flight from this photo. My scan is a little bit dark (apologies to the artist). I especially like the way her hair is trailing out behind her.

Thanks for the magnet and card, Songbird! (Can't wait for the next swap, even if it is a sorry ole' recipe swap. Ha ha!)

Friday Cemetery Blogging

What's in a name?

Updated to add: My snarky little entry did not take into account the lack of detail available to pictures in Blogger. The sign says "Forest Lawn Cemetery". This place is neither.

Misty, Watercolored Memories...

I found this on Revmom's site - Cheesehead in Paradise. Its a hoot! Give it a try:

Please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME. It can be anything you want--good or bad--BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you're finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.

Troubles with the English Language

Here’s the latest for those of you following the antics of Kaptain Katie.

She and I went to pick up my grandmother to bring her to our house for Thanksgiving. Since the temperature was still in the 70’s and 80’s everyday, she had on flip-flops (The Katie Footwear of Choice). She showed me the perfectly round, nickel-sized scab on the top of each foot.

“You know how rock stars slide across the floor with their guitars?” she said. “I guess you shouldn’t do that without your socks on.” She’d evidently tried it and had the carpet burn scabs to show for it.

I laughed and said the first thing that popped into my head. (I know that surprises you.) “It looks like you have stigmata,” I told her.

“What’s that?”

I immediately regretted saying it. Katie was leaving that evening to spend the rest of the holiday one of her grandmothers. The one who is the devout Catholic.

I explained what stigmata is. Katie found it hilarious that her wounds resembled those of Christ and I was worried she would repeat this bit of wit to the grandmother. Turns out, I needn’t have worried. We drove on another mile or so, when Katie began to chuckle.

“I’ve never had mono,” she said. “But now I have stick-mono!”


When I got home from work last Friday, Katie met me at the door.

“Daddy took me to ‘It’s a Girl Thing’!” she gushed. It’s a Girl Thing is a store located on the property of a seed company down the road from us. Evidently the owner’s wife wanted a corner of the industrial lot to house her own shop. So, right there amidst the huge semi-truck trailers of various kinds of cottonseed, the silos, and the warehouse, is her little store. Its full of all things frou-frou and wild. Katie loved it.

“They had a really cool belt. I need it to wear to the sympathy!”

“Do what?!”

“My class is going to the sympathy ‘cause Mrs. Brown is going to be in it. I need the belt to wear to the sympathy.”

Jackson intervened: “Sym-pha-ny, Katie. Symphany.”

I once heard the Fake Cow City is the smallest city in the U.S. to have a symphony. I don’t know if that is still true or not. But it will forever be known as the Sympathy at our house.

Friday Cemetery Blogging

Last Friday Jackson and I took a road trip. We headed down south via some country backroads. One of the roads was being demolished and rebuilt, so we had to make a detour. On our detour we came to this intersection:

The roads meet (1 dirt road and two paved ones) at this field:















This little cemetery is way, way, way out in the middle of nowhere. This photo is covers pretty much the entire site. There is nothing for miles in any direction, except for these few stones.

Most of the stones were handmade and most of the graves dated from the 1930's. (Anchient history in this part of the country!)

There are a few newer graves and a few professional headstones. There are also some new headstones that are marking graves with previously handmade stones. Some of the handmade stones show evidence that someone has redone the lettering to make it legible again. The cemetery itself is recently mowed and seems to be taken care of.

This is marks a grave of one of the slightly more recent burials:















Do you think she got an answer when she called?