Angel Fire

Twas during the 9 o’clock hour on the morning of Wednesday, January 30th when the sun perched high in the sky that our journey did commence.  The sun was smiling.  We were headed to Angel Fire, New Mexico.  When I think of the name Angel Fire I imagine it's the latest development or bra from Victoria's Secret, but actually it is a place.  En route, I enjoyed the scenery, the landscape, but not the 8 hours of sitting.  My companion drove the entire time.  I was all hopped up on coffee.  The occasional nuggets of conversation went like this, “What’s your favorite animal?”  “I don’t really like animals.”  “Ok, well are you aware that you are dating animal girl?”  It seems that opposites do attract.  I love animals.  He loves Facebook.  Life has brought us together.  We went up through the Texas Panhandle.  My eyes stayed ever watchful for any sign of life.  Once I saw a shy yet brazen coyote run across the highway.  Unfortunately, small town police sat up and took note of our sporty vehicular transport.  We were pulled over twice, but somehow managed to get a simple warning not a ticket.  Snow framed the roads once we arrived in Amarillo.  One of the highlights of traveling through Amarillo was the Jesus Christ is Lord Travel Center.  It’s is a funny thought to imagine Jesus working at a gas station.  Our stomachs started to pitch a fit about not having food, so we yielded to their right of way.  Cracker Barrel appeared.  We ordered our food to go.  Seeing their soft peppermint candy for sale in the gift shop brought back memories from childhood.  Once we reached New Mexico, I saw four deer running in unison in a field.  Darkness covered the landscape when we finally reached Angel Fire.  The unmistakable form of 3 adult elks appeared for a moment near the road as we drove by.  When we arrived in town, we stopped at a gas station to ask where the resort was located.  The road to the resort was covered in snow.  We advanced up the hill briefly pausing to check a sign.  Once we slowed down, we could not get going again.  We got into reverse and went down the hill.  This time we increased speed without slowing down and that did the trick.  After turning into the resort’s parking lot, we checked in at the front desk.  It was very cold.  Sleep was immediate and deep that first night.  In the morning, we dressed for the ski slopes.  We met a friend and local named  Billy at the front desk.  I met Billy and his mom Carolyn for the first time.  They were both warm and charismatic.  Billy took us to eat at the Campfire Cafe.  It was a very popular breakfast restaurant run by a woman from Brooklyn.  She also owned a sleigh ride business, so she took every opportunity to remind us that we should ride in a sleigh pulled by one of her horses.  I ate blueberry pancakes.  After we left, Billy drove us to Red River.  We stopped to gaze upon the lovely image of the Eagles Nest Lake which happened to be completely frozen.  He pointed out the highest point, Wheeler Park. I enjoyed hearing the stories from his time as an extra for the movie Lone Ranger. We rented our skis at a local shop near the resort.  I learned it is a work out walking in skis without snow.  By the time I made it to the room my breathing had become labored.  Once we made it to the slopes it was 2pm.  We went to the lift.  I realized that my skis did not match up with my ski shoes.  I had to walk to the closest ski shop to get them to fix it.  After 10 minutes, we were hiking back to the lift.  We got on.  It took us up the mountain.  We were at an altitude of 8,000 feet.  At the top we dismounted.  We were both ill equipped to deal with the mountain.  Sure we had the proper gear on, but we were lacking that little thing called skill.  We were like two blind squirrels sitting in the middle of the road during rush hour.  My pulse raced when I saw him barely escape falling down the big hill.  He missed it by an inch.  We did not know how to brake or turn.  I chickened out and took off my skis.  I carried them on my shoulders the whole way down.  Once we made it down, we became aware of the location of the lift for the kiddie slopes. We tried our luck on the kiddie slopes.  It was an improvement, but I still did not know how to brake.  I got ambushed by a fence made of rope in my effort to stop.  As I struggled to break free, I got more entangled.  He kept saying, “If six year old’s can do it, we can do it, don’t give up.”  Being tied up is no fun.  I was shaking from sheer exhaustion.  When we made it back to the hotel, I collapsed.  After ordering food, we watched WaterWorld.  Waterworld is a classic B movie starring Kevin Costner.  He had never seen it.  Later, we met Billy and his friend Mark at the bar inside the resort to shoot some pool.  As the clock approached the ten o’clock hour we felt the call of the wild, and thus migrated to the hot tub where we did unwind.  Unfortunately our time in the hot tub was abbreviated since a hotel employee kicked us out.  Sleep was good.  Our hotel room was like a woman going through menopause: one moment unbearably hot, another moment frigidly cold.  On Friday, we went to breakfast at the local cafe again.  Then we adjourned to the ski rental shop where we reserved a time for a local man to coach us on the slopes.  It was the best fifty bucks I spent on the trip.  Tanner was born and raised in this tiny New Mexico town.  He taught us how to hold our “French fries” and how to manage our “pizza pie.”  Once we had mastered these basic moves, skiing became almost fun.  I would have gladly stayed on the kiddie slopes but we pressed on to the hill that was more challenging.  As we approached on the lift, I could feel a baby headache begin to form in my head.  We got off and started downhill.  I had had my “French fries” in the brake formation, but I was picking up speed and going faster than I liked.  Finally, my face collided with the mountain.  My legs landed in the snow.  The snow softened the impact, but I could detect a sting and an ache in my head that was not there before. My helmet landed in the snow a couple of yards away.  I was alone and shaking like a leaf.  I tried to get up.  The fall really scared me.  I was scared enough to know that I was done.  I resumed the journey downhill going as slowly as humanly possible.  Once I made it down, I walked to the hotel.  I swallowed two Advil, drank some water and tried to breathe.  My fearless warrior, my action man boyfriend continued to conquer the mountain one-French-fry-at-a-time while I tried to re-claim my serenity.  Once he had waged war long enough, he arrived back on the scene smelling of fresh mountain air.  Later that night, we dined at Zebs.  I ordered the blue corn enchiladas.  The blue was symbolic of the sky.  The corn symbolized my natural born corniness.  More importantly, enchiladas is a Spanish word that means heaven.  I ate my sky corny heaven and it was good.  The locals, Billy and Carolyn, entertained us while they smoked like chimneys.  A pool tournament had been organized.  We watched the competition.  Music blared from the jukebox.  Many of the tunes were country which means they were unremarkable.  I took the bull by the horns and selected a couple of songs.  An hour passed, when suddenly, out of the darkness and smoke, I could hear the beginning of my song.  My heart jumped.  I leapt wildly like-a-chihuahua-that-never-learned-how-to-dance-but-gosh-darn-it-I’m-gonna-try.  I went crazy to Akon’s “I Wanna Love You.”  Our interest in the outcome of the pool tournament waned, so we made the executive decision to hit the road jack.  We migrated back to the resort, where sleep did find us.  I woke up with a stiffness and soreness in my neck.  My mouth was dry as if I had swallowed a cactus.  I packed up my stuff.  We loaded up the car.  It was time to take my stiff neck and cactus breath home.  We drove through the mountains to Taos.  It was absolutely beautiful.  My ears popped a couple of times.  When we made it to Taos, we went to the Kit Karson museum.  I listened intently to the stories about Kit’s life.  We had lunch in town, then started the drive home. Superman, aka Sir Drive’s-a-Lot drove and drove and drove.  We thought about stopping for a prayer at the Jesus Christ is Lord Travel Center.  However, we were ready to get home so we didn’t stop.  Our adventure ended at 11pm on February 2nd.  The end.  

Goodnight, Goodbye, God bless.

A New Year

According to Douglas Adams, “Life is like a grapefruit.  It’s orange and squishy, and has a few pips in it, and some folks have half a one for breakfast.”  One of my Christmas gifts included a book by Douglas Adams, and I look forward to sitting down with my copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.  My Christmas was wonderful.  The highlights included singing Feliz Navidad in the car with a delightful nine year old, my rendition of Willow’s Whip My Hair song via karaoke, doing a white elephant gift exchange and having someone try to steal my dog, the Frankenstorm that happened the night before Christmas, and all the moments I was able to spend with my family and my love.  In 2012, I learned a lot.  For instance, I learned that when you buy chicken at the grocery store that says ‘manager’s special’ eat it that day.  It is a new year.  My resolutions are to take care of myself and to keep pushing myself.  Cheers.

Great Wolf Lodge

If you are a 12 year old boy, it seems that Great Wolf Lodge is not so much a water park as it is a place to battle a dragon with a wand in MagiQuest.  Once upon a time, I knew nothing of Great Wolf Lodge.  My enlightenment came this past weekend.  I chaperoned a slumber party in one of their kid rooms.  Twas an epic journey as I followed 5 young wizards pursue their quest.  First, we wrapped the birthday boy up, like a mummy, using toilet paper.  I helped with this initiative all the while talking in my Russian accent.  Upon hearing my voice, one of the boys rushed out of his bunk bed exclaiming, “Who’s that? Who’s voice is that?”  I smiled and told him it was me.  His facial expression seemed a mixture of surprise and delight.  Once the birthday boy was freed from his mummification, toilet paper fights broke out.  I sang a silly song about toilet paper as I crawled back to a neutral part of the room (away from the war).  Once the boys ran out of TP, they wanted to go pursue MagiQuest again.  Ready, set, GO...They were gone.  The only thing I mastered that night was the stairs.  I went up the steps and down, repeatedly, chasing the boys until 11pm.  The birthday boy told me he had earned 7,000 gold coins so far.  At 11pm, thankfully, the hotel-powers-that-be shut down the MagiQuest.  The kiddos had to go to sleep.  I slept immediately.  The next day, we all had breakfast at the hotel buffet.  Afterwards, it was back to the MagiQuest.  The boys had an hour and a half to conquer the dragon.  I went with my friend to Starbucks (it’s in the hotel).  We got our caffeine.  When the boys finally returned, one of them was upset.  I went over to where he stood.  What’s wrong?  He turned and with tears in his eyes said that he wanted to beat the silver dragon.  I was speechless.  I couldn’t think of anything to say.  We ended up going as a group to the place that that battle went down.  We stayed there until he finally achieved victory.  Occasionally, we paused for ice cream.  I’m not used to eating such sugary food.  When the high wore off, then I crashed.  By the time we finally entered the water park, I was exhausted.  The boys were energetic and charged into this new adventure with gusto.  I stayed for about one more hour at this point.  Then I said my goodbyes and made my exit.  Outside, it was deliciously cold.  I bundled up.  I was on a quest to see my sweetheart before the day ended.  

Kayaking at Broken Bow

As the end of summer approaches, I find myself growing increasingly nostalgic.  Last night, I returned from a trip to Broken Bow, Oklahoma.  Apparently, several of my loved ones fancy Beavers Bend State Park (which is where I stayed).  Friday night, my friend led the charge in his Mini Cooper.  In Valliant, Oklahoma a cop stopped us for going too fast.  We had seen no sign indicating the speed limit.  The cop was dead set on issuing a speeding ticket.  My friend accepted it and we moved along.  We reached the state park at 9:30pm.  Driving around in the dark, we observed a staggering amount of cabins.  The signs listed the cabins by their number.  I asked, “What is the number of the cabin we are staying in?”  “I don’t know.”  My stomach lurched.  He was losing his cell phone reception, so I tried to call all 5 of the contact numbers for this event.  No one answered.  We stopped at a store in the park.  The store was closed for the night, but I persistently knocked on the door.  One of the employees opened it.  “I’m sorry to bother you, I know you are closed, but we are lost.  Could we use your phone?”  My friend used their landline to call the contact numbers.  No response.  My stomach sent out a strong signal to the rest of my body.  It was a sharp ache.  I knew the pain was from fear.  I kept my voice cheerful, but I was trying to not panic.  My friend was trying to keep his cool also.  We thanked the employees for letting us use their phone and left.  Outside, the darkness was profound.  I am used to ‘city dark.’  So being in the country, I am reminded of what real darkness looks like.  The forest was alive.  I heard many sounds no doubt a welcoming chorus from all the birds, insects and critters.  We drove around some more, asking random folks “Are you here for the Bloat-n-Float?”  Twice we asked, both times the response came, “What?”  We headed back towards the entrance to the park.  In a flash, my friend saw a clue in the form of a biker.  The biker was pulled over to the side of the road.  He recognized this stranger by the patch on the back of his leather jacket.  It read ‘Third Tradition’ which is a NA group.  He asked the biker about the location of the campsite.  We weren’t the only ones that were struggling to find it.  The biker, Aaron, ended up being our savior angel.  He took us to the spot.  We arrived at 10:30pm.  My stomach started to relax it’s fierce grip.  I got out of the car.  My legs started to wake up.  The campsite was bustling with activity even at this late hour.  We checked in.  We had a reservation for 2 kayaks.  To confirm our kayak reservation, we had to stand in another line.  Once we got to the front, the man asked for payment.  It was $25 per kayak.  Cash only.  My friend said, "I don't have any cash."  I looked at him-dumbfounded!  My facial expression probably could have easily killed a warm blooded animal.  “Hey, I’ve got cash.”  I went to the car and grabbed it.  I handed it to the kayak man.  He let us keep the reservation, with the promise that my friend would pay the rest the next day.  Cabin 6, was where we bunked.  It was primitive.  Bunk beds lined the walls.  There was one air conditioning unit working hard to cool the place off.  My cabin-mates all looked very tough.  If I had to compare them to a food definitely it would be beef jerky.  Luckily I have a knack for befriending people.  My bed was right next to the air conditioner.  I froze that night.  I kept wanting the night to end and the new day to begin.  Luckily my bladder behaved (because the restroom was not in the cabin).  I did not have to go to the bathroom until 6am.  At that point I sat outside with 2 women who were reading their meditation/prayers aloud.  Once everyone was awake, we made our way to the mess hall for breakfast.  The biscuits and gravy were pretty good.  After breakfast, I showered, applied my sunblock, mosquito spray, and dressed for the water.  We took a bus to the site where you get your canoe or kayak.  It took a while before we got on the water.  I asked several peeps how long it would take.  5 hours.  I had no snacks on me.  I started to worry about getting hungry on my voyage.  Another bus took us to the launch site.  The water was cold.  I ended up just taking my water bottle and a rag(for my sweat).  The temperature on the river was ideal.  The sun was shining, but it was cool.  It was awkward paddling at first, but I got the hang of it.  A blue heron swooped down to grab a fish, then flew to the bank of the river to eat.  Hawks circled high in the sky.  I tumbled over once.  Luckily, as my kayak moved down the river, people were there to grab it.  I walked in the fast moving water backwards to get hold of my paddle.  My water bottle and rag were long gone.  My friend helped me get back in the kayak.  I was on my way again.  No hurts, but I did regret losing my water bottle.  We got to the waterfall and my friend went down.  The river took his boat, paddle, shoes, but thankfully he got them back.  Once he was up and ready again, we paddled on.  I sang a song by Queen “We Are The Champions.”  On the water, my friend and I had a pretty deep conversation.  If you were stuck on Gilligan’s Island, who would you sleep with?  I picked the professor (because clearly I’m a goofball-he is serious-opposites attract).  My friend picked Mary Ann...DUH!  No explanation necessary for that.  We pulled out of the water at 11:30 just in time for lunch.  We drove into downtown Broken Bow, and inhaled a cheeseburger at Sonic.  I ate tots too.  Yummy.  I started to feel my dehydration at this point.  I kept drinking water.  We went to Walmart, to buy me some more water and to get cash to pay the kayak man.  Back at camp, all was quiet.  A lot of folks were not back yet.  We took a nap.  I slept until 4:30, then got up.  Sitting outside, we conversed with folks.  Everyone was friendly.  A couple of the women from our cabin could tell I was not a member of the NA.  I guess I gave it away by being cheerful, my arms unmarked by ‘using’ and all my teeth looked good.  FACT: Drug use really messes up your teeth.  My friend told me that if anyone asks what home group I’m from just say “I’m a normie.”  I imagined normie was the offspring produced by the brief love affair or tryst between the words normal and roomie.  Saturday we ate a steak dinner in the mess hall, then played cards.  On the way to dinner, a little girl was playing in the sand.  She was adorable.  My friend and I were wearing matching Hawaiian leis.  She showed an interest in this unique type of floral adornment, so he gave her his lei.  For the rest of the night this five year old girl and I were sisters-united-by-leis.  I should have taken a picture, but I didn’t.  All weekend I pretty much stayed away from technology, preferring instead to remain “off the grid.”  I am proud to report that no mosquitos, chiggers or ticks bothered me.  (I was worried about that.)  On Sunday morning, we ate pancakes with syrup.  Then we loaded up the car and attended the last meeting.  The meeting featured a speaker (with all the speaking talent of a hillbilly).  I snapped a photo.  My friend whispered, “You aren’t supposed to take a picture...remember this is anonymous.”  Finally when the man stopped talking, I hugged all the women that I had befriended in our cabin and we departed.  We drove back to the DFdub.  I really enjoyed our conversations going to and coming from camp.  He is definitely easy to talk to.  Thanks to my sister and her husband for babysitting my car while I was on this adventure.  Thank you to my grandmother for relentlessly pursuing my uncle until she had acquired one adult lifejacket in hand for me to borrow.  Thanks AT&T for providing service while I was out in the wilderness (especially considering that all other providers failed).  Thank you to my friend for inviting me!  Cheers.

Colorado

My summer vacation was amazing.  I was accompanied by my dear friend Tamara. We took a roadtrip in her brand new car.  Our destination was Denver or the mile high city.  FACT: Tamara and I would both like to eventually end up in Colorado.  The journey was 13 hours, that’s 767 miles through the Texas Panhandle and the finger of Oklahoma.  We passed Amarillo and Dumas.  We paused at Loafs-n-Jugs gas station in Springfield.  An old timer asked, “What kind of car is that?”  “It’s a Mini Cooper.”  Bugs the size of golf balls kept colliding with the windshield.  We waved at a bus of Christians and no one smiled or waved back.  DOH!  I saw only one deer, but a multitude of adult video stores plus dirt and potholes. In Claude, I observed a motel called “It’ll Do.”  Nice. We paused in Clarendon to refuel and eat our sandwichs.  I made toasted multigrain bagel sandwiches with cucumber, tomato and avocado.  After lunch, we made good time.  Once we were in Colorado, we stopping briefly in Lamar.  According to mountain time, we lost an hour.  The weather was arid, humid, hot.  We encountered a few minor hiccups with my navigation.  During the drive, we created a code.  If one of us said, “Charlie Sheen” it meant “get me away from this guy.” If we said “Recreation Room” it meant “let’s leave, this sucks.”  Allistaire (the car) performed beautifully.  On the drive, the fields appeared bleached blonde.  Once we were within the Denver city limits, I went to change lanes.  Bump!  The sound was so loud, I was scared half to death.  Tamara had me pullover so she could inspect the car.  Luckily, there was no bodily damage.  We arrived at the hotel, finally, at 11:30 our time.  A large round man (who hummed a lot) checked us in.  As expeditiously as we could, we unpacked and got to bed.  On Saturday, we ate the continental breakfast and watched the local news.  It is not a good sign when you hear: fire rages on, a local professor busted for cross-dressing and hooking, rabies found...all before you have been able to drink your first cup of coffee.  It reminded me why I don’t watch the news.  At 9am, we made it to the Denver Crossfit gym.  A hulking sweaty guy with a chest the size of a tree trunk was finishing lifting his set (minus a shirt).  I couldn’t stop looking at him. We waited for the 9am class to start.  The workout was very challenging: run, throw a wall ball, air squats, pushups using rings, jump rope, and situps. Tamara and I both left red-faced, huffing and puffing.  Now, before this trip, I made a serious effort to create social possibilities.  For example, I chatted with local Denver residents on Craigslist.  I joined a Denver Meetup Group so we could attend one of their mixers.  Saturday at 1:30 was a live music patio meetup at The Corner Office Bar and Grill.  I had trouble navigating on my phone to find where this place was.  After we parked we ended up having to walk 8 blocks in hot hot sun.  We were both dressed up and wearing heals.  The sun baked us!  My blood sugar was getting low.  Finally we made it to this place, but sitting on a hot patio no longer sounded fun.  We ordered food inside.  I perked up.   On the walk back to the car, we passed an elephant all dressed up in traditional Indian dress for a wedding.  The newly married Indian couple got on top of the elephant to ride around the city.  It was impressive.  The next place we went was a bar called Linger.  We arrived at 4:30 only to learn that the doors don’t open till 5:30pm.  DOH!  We ended up trying to find a shady spot to sit and wait.  An ice cream place was close by with outside seating.  We sat there.  Tamara played a game on her phone, while I people watched.  It was still very hot.  Beads of sweat would appear randomly and frequently on my skin; I tried to ignore it.  Finally 5:30pm arrived, we walked back to the bar and there was a long line of people waiting to get in.  I felt myself start to panic, but I pushed the feeling away.  Luckily, it did not take too long for us to get in.  We walked straight to the bar.  The guy from the Crossfit gym, remember treetrunk chest guy, apparently he worked at Linger (he had a shirt on this time).   After much consideration I concluded, that I liked him better ‘shirt-free.’  The bartenders all wore shirts.  Blah!  Two of them spent more time talking to us.  I briefly conversed with a local.  After we left Linger, we ate Thai food.  Yummy!  We returned to the hotel and 20 adults stood around the lobby drinking beer and talking.  I observed that small gangs of children ran around freely.  I asked a woman in the elevator about the friendliness of the folks here.  I said, “I have never seen such a sense of community in a hotel.”  She said, “Oh we all know each other.  We are all from the same small town.  We’re here for a baseball tournament.”  So the whole town of Sterling, Colorado had congregated in our hotel.  On Sunday we ate breakfast then ran at Standley Park in Westminster.  The park was beautiful.  I  encountered a family of prairie dogs.  It was heaven!  We jogged the trail.  I took pictures.  I never saw one piece of trash.  Denver people seemed to have more pride in their state (versus Texas where I frequently see trash).  Afterwards, we visited Panera Bread for a pastry and a latte. I saw a Coors Credit Union which struck me as odd.  It didn’t seem logical to work hard, save hard, only to let a bank named after a beer ‘watch-over’ your money.  We went to the Butterfly Pavilion.  I saw the biggest spider I had ever seen in my life.  The butterfly’s were beautiful.  Then, we watched Dark Shadows (the movie with Johnny Depp) at a local theater.  Luckily, no shootings.  Dinner was at La Sandia Cantina.  I had cheese enchiladas.  By this point in the vacation I was much improved at being the navigator.  Tamara was driving.   Once we got back to the hotel, we did adult madlibs, read them aloud and laughed.  On Monday(our last day) we walked around at Boulder Mountain Park.  I saw another deer.  Since we couldn’t really jog the mountain, we drove to Chataqua Park and hiked a trail instead.  It was a perfect day.  I did not mind the sun.  Afterwards, we returned to the hotel, cleaned up and went to Strange Brewing Company.  It was a small warehouse filled with regulars.  The brewing company was the highlight of the vacation for me because I finally got the social interaction that I wanted.  We did a tasting, then ordered a pint.  I didn’t want to leave.  Tamara talked to a tourist who was from New Zealand.  It was perfect.  I drank the Zora Pale Ale and conversed with the head brewer Tim.  Lila was the minister of frothy libations (what a great title).  Before we left, Tamara bought a growler for her dad. I bought a hat for mine. The New Zealand guy, upon learning, that I’m a Texan guessed I was from Austin (since I’m so weird).  I told him weird people live in the Dallas/Fort Worth area too!! So there.  

Impressionism

Today I witnessed the exhibit The Age of Impressionism at the Kimbell Art Museum.  Fact: The exhibit features work of “superb quality, intimate scale and originality of vision.”  It was interesting to learn that when Impressionism first came out, the public’s reaction was unfavorable.  They viewed the paintings as sloppy, crude, childlike, uninteresting and absurd.  Did you know that Sterling Clark was the heir to the Singer sewing machine fortune?  I guess I never really thought those words would go together: sewing machine and fortune?!!  Back in old times though, I guess the sewing machine was the Lexus or BMW of clothes production.  I learned that Theodore Rousseau, like myself, attended Barbizon (however his Barbizon wasn’t a modeling school).  There was one painting called Seated Nude that featured a subtle juxtaposition of rock with fabric.  I can relate to that because my breakfast featured a juxtaposition of coffee with cream and a granola bar.  In Seated Nude, a young woman sat hugging her legs tightly to her chest.  Her skin was luminous.  In modern times, that young woman would have, more than likely, taken that picture on her cell phone.  There was one piece called Gooseherd.  It featured a flock of geese in action. It made me think of one of the songs from the Sound of Music “High on a hill was a lonely gooseherd Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo Loud was the voice of the lonely gooseherd...” I will admire anyone who can paint with technical assurance (whatever that means).  I think my new goal for tomorrow is to ‘create a compelling evocation of cold and solitude.’  Moving from painting to painting, I saw tulip fields, cliffs, banks, bridges and some still life canvases.  I was aware of the contrast between the landscape back then versus now.  Renoir said, “Painting flowers rests my brain.” His admission about his flower-brain-paint-rest makes him more human and therefore more lovable.  Renoir painted a portrait titled Pere Fournaise (no relation to Mayonaise).  It featured a swarthy man that looked as though he’d “smelled the fart” and it was not good.  According to Sterling Clark, Renoir is the best colorist ever.  Toni & Guy, Revlon, you’ve got nothing compared to him!  Did you know that Pissaro had a “brief flirtation with the pointillist style?”  (Now that’s a flirtationship that I’ve never experienced)  Attaboy!...In conclusion, this exhibit made me want to paint an oil on canvas using the impressionist style of a still life: a cell phone and car keys.  It would be groovy to see those common items, uncommonly portrayed.  Thank you and Goodbye.

Memorial Day

Memorial day is here.  I have never met a soldier that I liked, but I do recognize their contribution to this country and respect, admire their sacrifice. For all intensive porpoises, this federal holiday weekend was inundated with fired up grills and backyard slip-n-slides.  I’ve been celebrating, in my own small way, by being classy smashed.  You know where you giggle like you’re tipsy, but you can still quote Shakespeare or recite an epic poem at the drop of a hat.  I attended KellerFest on Saturday night.  The cool evening featured propitious carnival weather. I couldn’t have imagined being anywhere else: smiling faces, bright lights, and powdered sugar (leftover remains from consumed funnel cake) was everywhere. My favorite part of KellerFest was the petting zoo.  The petting zoo included lemurs, piglets, young goats, alpacas (all of whom were adorable) frolicking in the happy straw while Keller natives reached out their hands.  I was tempted to pull out my iphone and snap a picture, but instead ipaused, and enjoyed the moment without documenting it. Friday, I finished working at a local middle school.  It was bittersweet. I was happy about the newfound free time, but sad about leaving the kiddos.  My experience teaching there taught me a lot.  Teaching takes everything you have.  Before teaching, at work sometime a guy might tell me I look tired and it would ruin my day.  Once I was teaching if a guy said that, it did not phase me because I was simply too tired to care.  I hope I land a full-time teaching position before the end of summer.  Good things are on the horizon: my little sister will migrate back to Texas, my nephew grows cuter every day, and Pooh bear is soon to turn 8 human years (or 48 in dog years).  Party on Wayne!  In a while crocodile...