I have recently been accused of spoiling my cat. I don't know what people are talking about! Does it seem so weird that my cat comes running every afternoon that I walk in the door after school? Does it seem so odd that he "follows" me wherever I go in the house? Especially if that means literally being underfoot 98% of the time? I don't think so! But just in case...
You be the judge. Although remember pets of your own. How did you get along with them? And all I have to say is "No Judgement"
on your human-pet relationships.
And I am NOT the crazy cat lady. I have ONE Ronald.
You have seen everything when you are at a local IHOP
[International House of Pancakes-
for those of you who didn't catch on to the acronymn]
casually finishing your breakfast, when out of the corner of your eye you notice that the group of teenagers have left the table next to you. Their leftovers were left on the plates, just waiting for the waitress to clear them away. Not so strange. Until you factor in the small army of a family coming in. Like five kids march by our table. Then [this is the part even I can't believe] one of the adults most casually walks by the now empty, but not yet cleared table, and grabs one of the pancake plates! GRABS. THE. LEFTOVER. PANCAKE. PLATES! EWWW! I mean if you really are that hungry I bet even IHOP would not deny you a couple of packages of soup crackers.
And dedicated to Bone Jr.- who I have it on good authority- was treated to a Bone Family delicacy a couple of times at a young age.
Looking for an Eggs Benedict recipe in this book, I came across the rarebit recipe. So I TOO could enjoy the Bone Family delicacy.
Look carefully under the Winter Weekend Breakfast, first item...
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
As anyone who listened to me whine and complain this past year knows...I have regained my Teaching Soul by moving back to Utah. I KNOW! Who would have guessed, but I agree with the teaching methods more in Utah- for now. So after school ended, and my apartment contract was up, I was outta there. But instead of using Erik- a.k.a. The. Worst. Moving. Company. Ever. I opted to rent my own Buget truck and haul my own stuff. It was once again packing everything up. Ronald LOVED the 50-empty-cardboard-boxes part, but as soon as he realized that things were being packed and moved out, he got a little nervous and spent the bulk of his time in his Pet Taxi.
The drive from Houston to Provo, was fairly uneventful. Thankfully Ronald was a good lil' traveler and knew to keep quiet while being snuck into the hotels. Funny thing was that Ronald would roam about the truck cab during the day drive- but not too much, preferring to again pass his time napping in his Pet Taxi. He came to understand that once it got dark outside and we stopped that = Hotel Time. In fact, he was quite eager to welcome my Dad back into the cab so that he could run amok in a room.
Ronald came to understand that not all other cats were as into being his friend as the ones we visit at Christmas and Summer breaks in Bothell. Our temporary roomie- Regina was not quite as eager to be buddy-buddy with Ronald. But not for Ronald's lack of trying. We entered a Friend-Wanna-Be triangle. Ronald wanted to be Regina-the-kitty's friend, and Olivia-the-lab wanted to be Ronald's friend. As of now, Regina has moved out and Olivia is still attempting to be Ronald's friend but finding it difficult when Ronald has her cowering in the corner.
*Yes. You read that right. Ronald rules the roost here too*
Speaking of another Ronald Weasley... July 2007 was Harry Potter month. A new movie. The final book installment. It was almost too much. Almost :) Of course I purchased tickets many days before the movie released. My new roomie Sara, Yanaj, my Dad, and I all saw a 1 a.m. showing in Salt Lake City. We even got to reserve the actual seats! The movie was awe-some! But. Words. Cannot. Describe. The. Moment. I. Openned. The. First. Page. Of. Book. 7.
Bone Jr., Elizabeth, Yanaj, and I 2 hours before HP7 book release
We were customers 112th and 113th- waiting to get to the front of the line. We only had to wait 25 minutes. At least the CUTE eye candy in front of us kept us entertained.
5 p.m. the following evening.
Nearly finished after a 24 hour Read-A-Thon.
Will HP live? Do Ron & Hermoine FINALLY kiss?
Here is to the last 2000 BHS graduate still officially single. This past August I stood with 5 other bridesmaids and watched as Miss Bonnie said her "I Do's". I spent a week up in Bothell hanging out with my Mom. We had a Bachelorette Party on Saturday night. I gave one of the tamest gifts. Surprise! The big hit of the evening was not a slinky piece of lingerie but rather: this book.
About Wednesday night we got a call- "Can you find a wedding cake topper...but...not of people." Well, not much selection, although I came across the one I would use.
And for those of you just DYING to see me in the bridesmaid "dress"... Well, no one died of not seeing a picture.
Maybe in time.
But I AM trying to decide how I feel about the old addage
Of many happy - though undeniably LATE - memories of my Arcadia Nights, America's Funniest Home Videos holds a special place in my heart. Once the homework had been completed and outfits decided on for the next day, we would cozy up on our respective couches and prepare ourselves for another hour of fun hilarity. We began to hope that Tom Burgeron was the host, because we had learned that Daisy Fuentez was supposidly more looks than great commentary. Most recently I was watching an episode [though NOT as funny without the late night coma or partners in crime along] I snorted...SNORTED...outloud at the following 2 videos.
Video 1: because this little girl knows just what to try to get out of her punishment! She certainly tries hard, I'll give her that. But I wish I had been there to shoot the pretend gun. Bam! Bamm! You'll understand that once you've seen it once...or twice...or like me 3 times!
My goodness! Once she hits the ground she doesn't even MOVE!
Video 2: no other explanation is needed other than -can you say
Oops! I mean Father's Day...but sometimes the case may be called for the above mentioned title. (This card is in the mail- I just laughed so hard that I didn't want to wait until you got it) That is what dads are for right? But really. I wanted to commemorate fathers day with some favorite recollections of MY wonderful Dad.
The TOP Three that I could think of that is:
1) This was the man who would come home from an early beginning and long work day to read books to me; that is before I could read, and whenever I could convince him to do so after I'd learned to. I distinctly remembering to "read" Cat and the Hat, Berenstein Bears, and most particularly when I had broken my collar bone, I, Houdini. This led to a whole new world of reading, and in fact a shared love for all things Harry Potter. In fact, the story of me becoming hooked on Harry begins with my Dad. I came home one summer from college to work one of those lovely summer jobs. I was comfortably moved into a basement room when a small, blue, paperback book mysteriously showed up on my pillow one evening. Now as most books go, I am willing to give it the good 'ole '2 chapter' try. Except the title "Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone" was not high on my list of sophisticated reading material. Thus beginning the Harry Battle. Starting with that first night I carefully placed the book on my bedside table and picked up other reading material. I awoke the next morning, paused as I looked at that little blue book, and continued in my morning routine. That evening I was surprised as I pulled back and rearranged my pillows and blankets for another night sleep, when I saw a small, blue book sitting comfortably ON the bed. "That's strange" I thought to myself as I less carefully deposited the book on the floor next to my bed. The next morning, same routine, but I definately made sure to remember exactly where the book was. As I came into my room later that night...yup...you guessed it. The book had made it back onto the bed; just waiting for me to read it. Now I know this was my Dad's work. Seeing as how he had been attempting to discuss plot lines [as many devout HP fans tend to do with each other] everytime we talked. Now as a good daughter I may has given in and just read the blue book, but it took nearly 2 weeks of this 'put the book [on the floor, under the bed, in the night stand, on the night stand, on my desk] you name it and have it returned to its place of honor on my pillow each day. Faithfully it continued finding its way back onto the bed each night. Thankfully persistance paid off, and as of the last book release, I braved a Borders bookstore midnight release party of the 6th book in the Harry Potter series. Good Thing too. Because as I arrived home that night, my Dad was waiting to pounce. So I compromised. Seeing as he had merely ordered the book on Amazon.com and wouldn't get his copy for a few more hours, I took pity :) We spent the entire night reading the book out loud to each other so that we could find out what happened next. Besides, who else can I discuss to the death the predictions and plot lines of Harry Potter than with my Dad. Who by the way I am really excited to see the next Harry Potter movie with in Salt Lake City.
2) Who cares for you like a dad? As I have left for college and teaching in states other than Washington the weekly, sometimes daily calls from family have become the norm. In fact, with the technology of cell phones, I have come to rely on such close communication ties. And seeing as I have been in later time zones, and my family has warped into the late to bed, late to rise routine, I find that I rarely am concerned with the TIME of a call :) But I find it comforting to talk to my Dad (before being handed over to my Mom because she continues to ask questions through my Dad) to be asked -in this order- how is your car doing? how is school going? what's the weather like? how are you doing? Before any other conversation would sideline us to other topics. My Dad takes care of me. Or to put another way, first the car, then the possible needed school expenses, helpful weather tips, and then me :) But it has helped to make me independent and grow up with a feeling that "I can do this!" Which is one of the best feelings that one can teach others.
3) He has a sense of humor. He is someone that you just want to be around. After 26 years of marriage my Mom still wants to spend time with him, whether that is the traditional date and [NOT to Home Depot mind you]. I have never known anyone to NOT like my Dad. He is an interesting person to talk to, whether you are talking about the upkeep of motor vehicles, computers, or the best way to install new carpet. I have learned many things watching and helping my Dad. I learned that I could carry a roll of carpet big enough to at least carpet the LARGE family room in their house- his response - "You're going to make some guy a great carpet installer one day" [which of course is on my resume]. I learned how to change the oil in my car, properly replace a tire, how to drive a stick shift, and that sometimes smaller hands are easier to get into the small spaces in a car engire, but unfortunately those smaller hands are UNABLE to unscrew a bolt with those bare hands. He gives good advice, sometimes even if it is just to listen. He is a good teacher. I know he must get frustrated with people, but I hardly remember a time when he let a temper take reign. What more can you ask for? I am so greatful everyday to have a Dad that loves and supports not only me, but my Mom, sister, and those around him.
I saw this item and remembered that you were quite taken with this character :) was it not a desktop wallpaper for a time?
Thank You Dad for all that you do! It is appreciated and will be remembered and passed on to others. I hope that you have had a great day and am so excited to spend time with you when you come to Houston in July! AND of course to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix... so do you think Snape is really evil?
It has been a LONG time. Seeing as how my "other" blogfriends have recently outdone me with blog updates, here it comes. A review of what has been happening in my life since almost all of my countdowns have expired. Lets start with the job. I really really wanted the Newman job; unfortunately a master-degreed, well educated career teacher got the job. That left me with no job here at Metcalf *dry-eyed* *boo-hoo* and no job anywhere. What to do? Until the last day of school for teachers; May 25th. I am in my portable, clearing out the last bits of boxes and turning in lesson plans, when I get an unexpected call from the new principal at Santaquin Elementary in Nebo School District. She had gotten a gander at my resume and wanted to schedule a phone interview. Sure thing. Which in fact turned into a very positive interview and I got a good feeling from it. Problem was, she was in Utah and I was in Texas. Lets leave it at that for a moment.
A big exodus out of Houston has begun. Kite Runner has decided to try her luck in greener fields- the greener fields of Georgia that is. So once again I found myself in a city with not many people to pass all this luxurious summer time off with. A tribute to one who goes before me... Everytime I go to open a new straw I will think of KR.
What do you mean HPLuvr? The thing is first you carefully slip the straw wrapper off the straw, and then tie it into a knot. But DON'T pull the knot tight- yet. First pause and think about someone. Once you have that one person clearly in mind, quickly pull the straw wrapper tight in one quick motion. If the wrapper breaks cleanly in half- and I mean IN HALF as in there is no knot left to speak of -then the person you were thinking about is thinking about you right then.
Obvious attempts that continued to fail. But not for lack of trying.
Good Luck to KR!
********************************
Then there is the night time. Lets start with SCHOOL IS OUT FOR THE SUMMER! So the last few weeks of class were fairly tiring. To say the least. The Nazi Regime team took back our textbooks and then told us to continue with the effective, standards-tied, objective-driving lessons. Babysitting the kids more like it. Well, we survived. But there was that one Friday night after I had changed out of my "spirit school clothes" and settled in to watch my DVR-recorded, ER reruns. When I am awakened by a loud, repetitive noise. Wait a minute I think to myself... why is my alarm going off? I looked out the window and it is still insanely dark outside. And I am not too out of it, it was Friday yesterday. I don't work on Saturdays.
*Confused*
This is when I sit up, rub my eyes, and notice that along with the loud annoying alarm sound, there is a coordinated flashing light. Uhhh?
Then I finally realize what it is:
I grab some public-appropriate pajamas, my purse, and Ronald and book it out of my apartment. Where I wait at 12am with all of my neighbors until 12:45am, by which time no firemen or anything has arrived. Does that make me nervous? 45 minutes of THAT sound going off? Good thing it was a false alarm. Or else I would have not only been homeless but all of my stuff would have been firewood. Marshmellows and a metal-coat hanger anyone?
******************************** Continuing with the subject of waking up- without the aid of my alarm OR the fire alarm- the mornings of our first week of summer vacation; Ronald had a bit of trouble adjusting to the new schedule. This won't make much sense unless I describe our normal school year schedule. My radio alarm is set for 5:40am. Music softly begins the wake up process in which I can hit the snooze button until 6:15am, when the alarm takes over, again I hit the snooze button until 6:30am. At which time I roll out of bed and hop into the shower, all the while talking to Ronald who has followed me and is waiting for me to get out of the shower. And once out of the shower I finally feed Ronald and he is happy with me and out from under foot. I would scoot around and leave the apartment around 7:10am, by which time Ronald was usually ensconsed already in his early morning nap spot :) *waves of extreme jealousy* This worked mutally well for both of us. Except when summer vacation began. The sun would slowly peek through the hole that has been made in the blinds, and Ronald would 1) begin pawing my face to wake me up, and when that failed to get the desired results, he would 2) hop up onto the small table in my bedroom and begin to push off my sunglasses one by one. This usually got me out of bed by the 2nd or 3rd pair of glasses clattering to the floor. Thankfully by the 4th morning of me hopping angrily out of bed and picking up the sunglasses off the floor, Ronald Weasley finally got the picture that "We get to SLEEP IN. No need for the wake-up calls".
Case in point: Now I am the one making wake up calls.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * *
Now back to my job situation. So the ladies currently residing in Provo were so kind as to allow me to come crash their place and allow me access to their vehicles and time. I set up a few interviews with schools in the Nebo school district. Let me tell you the first interview I went to did not go so well; the principal showed up in jeans and was so rushed that I felt as though I should have shaken his hand and left as soon as I sat down. But the clincher was when he took an "important" cell phone call from his wife to reassure her that he would still be able to meet her at the Walmart for their family day out. Oh well. Afterwards I was able to continue my seemingly unsuccessful search for housing. I don't consider myself one with lots of baggage- both figuratively and literally- but that must be outside of cities within 15 minutes of Provo. All these beautiful apartments that I can now afford, and then those fateful two words *NO PETS* These issues kept me tossing and turning until 5:30am the morning before the BIG interview.
By the BIG interview I refer to the telephone interview that I had before I even left Houston. I woke up with time to spare to both get ready and find a school that is 25 minutes away. I drive out to Santaquin, get lost, and then proceed to make a frantic phone call to the school. "I'm lost, but if you can give me some directions I will be there ASAP". The response? "The principal will not be into this school until after July 1st. Try at her old school." Oops, something I should have clarified BEFORE driving all the way out to Santaquin. But before you get too worried, I called her old school, cleared everything up, and batta-bing I am now the newest employee of the Nebo school district. To report to my new job by July 9th. Santaquin Elementary 4th Grade Teacher.
Only one thing is still up in the air... Exactly what is the meaning of this?
I had my Salt Lake City School District telephone interview on Friday. It was quite odd; but appeared to go as smoothly as possible. Seeing as the only person that I had not met or worked with before was the new principal, I seemed to have a good jury. They will be making their final decision by Wednesday...which if I have NOT heard from them in 2 days and 22 hours I will be crying about what and where I will be next year. Which leaves me to my last countdown, this school year...
Apparently hard cold facts, like numbers, are all that administrations and politicians understand. How about this:
1 of my students...likes to punch his classmates { well more than that but this one cannot stop doing it!! } Provoked or not-provoked.
Current count of decked classmates: 5different classmates; 2 of them girls
Consequence...first 2 punches, 1 day of suspension ... Or as I like to call it, a 3-day weekend ... then a 2 day suspension ... then 2 3-day suspensions ... do you think that suspension is making an impression?
Curious about those aforementioned weapons?
PELLET-I-am-not-a-real-GUN: 1
Consequence...1 day of in-school-suspension + 3 days of suspension
Knife: 1
Consequence...3 days of suspension
Number of students: 41 + 1 student who has decided that she "feels sick" and cannot come to school { number of absenses in the past 20 days? 14 }
Consequence...1 "sick" student not completing any tests or assignments.
Number of teachers: 2, one of which is going crazy and might be flying to Utah for an interview in ... 4 days :)
Consequence...1 new teaching job and crazy weekend activities!
All the drama that has been going on this past week, the gun, the administration-parent-teacher conference about the nearly uncontrollable fist fighting student terrorizing my class, being told what to say in said conference, the LYING assistant principal, and the crude emails written to me from some students. I have officially resigned as of 2:23 pm, Sunday May 6, 2007. I no longer have to worry that next year I am going to do it to myself again at Metcalf. The scary part is...what next? I have not been contacted by Alpine School District to work at one of the 3rd grade positions there. Nor have I technically applied anywhere else. I had previously decided that I was NOT going to decide whether to quit the teaching profession after this year or not. Especially since I thoroughly enjoyed teaching at Newman a year ago. I promised myself that I would give it at least one more year before deciding anything major. But it still has me biting my fingernails about what and where to go next.
What a job.
You may be asking "why are you doing this to yourself?" Well the answer is that there are some students, teachers, and experiences that make life at Metcalf endurable.
Working in a portable...
...with the Houston weather...
This is the view from my portable on a recent day that the heavens decided to open up and show us that no matter how important the lesson plan was, or how much my students really needed to be in the classroom, we were not to be having any of it.
"If you happen to be one of those people who are looking at this picture thinking, 'What is HPLuvr talking about' let me explain this picture a bit. You are looking out onto the school's playground. You see the hardtop basketball court. Next you might be able to distinguish some swing sets and monkey bars. Just beyond that, but before the row of houses that are behind our school is Lake a la Metcalf. Which is as large as the school itself, and if I were to have gone wading in it (like I wanted to) it would most likely have come up to my knees."
Western Day at Metcalf...aren't they adorable...
Another chance to celebrate what a great state Texas is. The kids wore cowboy clothing and put on a country line dancing performance for their parents and teachers. SO CUTE!!
If only every day brought such warm fuzzies to my heart. Because they don't. Which brings me back to my situation. What to do now that I've resigned as a CY-Fair teacher.
But then on Thursday night I get a call. One of the second grade teachers that I worked with last year was calling to tell me that the other second grade teacher that we worked with is retiring at the end of this school year. She was calling to tell me that she wants me to put in my application on Monday and move back to Utah. In fact, she had told the new principal there about me already. What does it feel like to actually be wanted? Like this. The cut in pay, aka- my Teaching Soul- is worth it. Trust me. I will keep you posted about what I really am going to do next year or rather in the next two months.
...OOOOHHH..!! I don't EVEN KNOW where to start. Today was going fairly well for a substitute in the other room kinda day. You see my partner teacher was out for the day having a root canal done. So it was me versus 42 kids. Me- being slightly outnumbered- made sure to have enough work for my kiddos to do, so that there was NO time to mess around. I thought that we were doing fairly well. Except for a few choice students that will most likely one day grace the news and covers of magazines for less than positive situations.
Anyway, back to today. So we have 18 buses that come through in the morning to drop students off for the day, and then pick them up after school. This means that we have 2 sets of buses. When there is a substitute, you are in charge of the first set of buses, then you run back to pick up the second set; like today. I ended up taking 34 of my 42 students on the first set of buses. As I walked back to pick up the remaining 8 students, the good sub had already lined them up and brought them out to meet me :) made it much easier. Or so I thought. After standing around for 5 minutes [which doesn't sound so long, until you are trying to keep restless elementary students quiet and in line] then it is forever. All the buses were there but for some reason there was a delay. I was getting antsy, the sub was getting antsy, and the kids were going stir crazy. Then I had one of 'em come up and whisper to me,
"Nitsuj has a gun."
My heart stops.
Of course this had to wait until the exact moment that we were to be walking to get on the buses. Not wasting anytime I walk over to the student's backpack, take it off of his shoulder and step away from him. I was asking myself "What if there really is a 'real' gun in here?" and "What if it goes off?" I didn't want to reach in and accidently set something off.
Teacher shoots students waiting for buses.
How would that look in a review?
I openned up the backpack. As I carefully moved the mess of papers around, I found the gun. I did hear the offending student attempt to say:
1) "It's just a BB gun"
2) "I don't know how it got in there!"
Who cares!! What I want to know is that if this GUN has been in my room all day???
What would you think if you saw something like this? No kidding if someone were to pull something out like this and ask for my purse or my car, I WOULD GIVE IT TO THEM!!! It is too realistic. I had to pull this kid out of line, and walk him to a person on the administration team. Not the thing that I wanted to spend my afternoon doing. 45 minutes later the kid's dad had come to pick him up and was told that his son could come to school like normal tomorrow, but was to go to the in school suspension room to determine exactly what happened and what the consequence will be; you know- a consequence because it looks like a real gun. Real gun my butt. You put something into it, point it at someone, and that something comes shooting out. I feel real safe. Can I call the front office and complain that I don't feel safe in the classroom?
For years and years and years... well ever since I saw a picture of my Toby; I have wanted to see him live. How lucky I felt that after wimping out paying $75.00 per ticket to see him on my birthdays in Utah, that the tickets were free flowing during March Madness...a.k.a...the Houston Rodeo. When Texans say rodeo, they mean rodeo- cowboys; lassoes; cowboys; bucking broncs; chuck wagon races; oh did I mention cowboys? I was able to go to openning night of the rodeo, a sold out 70,000 crowd to see George Straight. Also, Alan Jackson and of course Toby.
One of the more attractive cowboys... he scored pretty high too; if you're interested in that sort of thing.
Surprisingly, I was not the only one to wear 'mah' cowboy hat an' belt buckle. I also ate my bbq with the best of them.
How can I resist the bandana and cowboy hat??
And here is what Toby looked like performing onstage. Not to compare him to George and Alan, but he really worked the crowd and sung his H-E-A-R-T out.
I wouldn't be a true fan-in-fatuation without adding one more clip of Toby...
Alan Jackson, equally as exciting to see and sing along to. Here is where I was doubly grateful that the music was loud enough to cover up my skills. Or if you take Bone Junior's advice the less you know of a song or melody the louder you should turn up the music and sing.
A song a novice-country music listener might recognize. Or to those listeners that "force themselves" to listen to country to prepare for their trips to Texas. Either way...
What it was like to be breathing the same air as these rockin' country legends...oh and a stadium full of other redneck fans.
Dear Ronald...you are officially an adult. You get to eat the big boy food. Yummy!
...HAAAPPY BIRTHDAY to you...! So my baby is a year old. Well to be technical he is *checks calendar*
1 year and 41 days old. I kept meaning to commemorate the event, especially since it meant Ronald moved from kitten food to adult food. Thankfully Ronald prefers the adult dry food. Not to mention that I bought him the flavored kind. Lucky for both of us it was his favorite kitten food flavor. So I thought I was the solo-goober who celebrates my cat's birthday, then I - no correction- Ronald received a birthday card from one of his favorite boutiques.
...now all Ronald is doing is bugging me to go get that free toy for his birthday. And even though I have explained over and over that it simply is a sales tactic to get us into the store to get a free $3.00 toy but purchase $15.00 worth of stuff. Do we even need the stuff? Leave me alone... I am off to buy yet another article of clothing.
argue with a classmate. For a recent writing workshop assignment, my students were to write about something that they could teach about. Some of my students taught me how to make a cheeseburger, or how to make koolaide. I thought I had seen all of the original ideas when I was conferencing one day, I came across this lil' beauty and burst out laughing. This is one of those moments that makes my struggle to remain sane in this class worth it. I quickly grabbed my camera and tried to take a picture of the gal with her brainstorm web.
The infamous student.
Who wouldn't even get out of the way for a brief picture.
Nearly everyone could benefit from the advice so sagely given in this student's how to paper.
His teacher included.
But I'm curious- "What could my wise friends write a 'How To' paper teaching me about?"
So when I couldn't purchase an airline ticket to Utah for spring break for less than $450, I decided to accept my fate and attempt to convince a favored guest to come to me. I was very lucky that with less than a week to plan, mi momma rose to the challenge and joined me once again for a vacation in Houston. My challenge was to provide the entertainment. While the Houston Livestock and Rodeo was in town so I made sure that we attended a concert one night [which demands its own blog; coming later]. The other highlight was our impromptu road trip to New Orleans, LA aka NOLA. The French Quarter- a section of New Orleans, has very beautiful houses. There were many stores, hotels, and homes that were still damaged and closed, but seeing as it has been 2 years since Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans is beginning to return to its feet and we were able to walk the streets and see some of the most beautiful homes I have seen.
We still saw remains of Mardi Gras on some of the local homes. I guess that the beads in the French Quarter are similar to Christmas lights on Red Necks homes- both are left up all year long.
When we were first driving to the French Quarter, I got off the wrong exit and ended up in one of the scariest neighborhoods I have even been in. We were the only white people there, and even though it was the middle of the day, there were groups of adults milling about the street and chatting on the front porch steps. In fact, as I was attempting to find a street that was on the map that my mother was reading, we pulled into a corner market to both study the map. All was seemingly fine, until a large van pulls up next to us, the driver hops out, quickly moves to the back of the van to open up the back doors and begin to do business with the pair of rather large men who appeared out of no where. With a full tank of gas, and some driving around, we eventually made it to a parking lot near the French Quarter; and we spent 2 days in the French Quarter, checking the craziness that is Bourbon Street, and particpating in a Haunted Evening tour of New Orleans. For those of you who are unsure what the big deal about Bourbon Street is, it has so many bars, there is no room left on the street for anything else. Which is comforting when at 9pm you are walking back to your parked car in the dark, and you turn a corner and the street is lit up like the middle of the afternoon. The only thing I can remotely compare it to, is when you are driving into Las Vegas. You have been driving through the dark desert for hours now, when in the distance you see one heck of a spot light shooting its beam straight up into the sky, then you drive around the mountains blocking your view and even though your car clock says it is 2am, the whole city is lit up like mid-day. I loved the atmosphere of this tourist town. The street musicians added to the general feeling. And although it is odd to admit it, there are many VooDoo [the religion] and HooDoo [the "black" magic] shops with shrunken heads and VooDoo dolls for anyone that you wish to VooDoo. By the way, how are you feeling? Pain in your side? But that really is a big thing there. In fact go rent Skeleton Key.
...and the hidden treasure of New Orleans... I stepped into a small albums shop. In this shop there were hundreds of signed celebrity albums, movie posters, and guitars. Oh, it was a sight to behold. Then I came across one that I wanted to get for the #1 Fan of this musician. But unfortunately all I could afford to do was to slyly take out my camera and snap a few pictures of this particular treasure and hope that at least one of the pictures came out not blurry. Feast.
Two weekends ago I went with a pal to see some real cowboys. Literally. Apparently there is a historic ranch not an hour outside of downtown Houston, that a family lived on for nearly 100 years. You are now able to tour the ranch at your leisure, going from one house to the next as the generations began to appreciate good 'old things like electriciy and indoor plumbing. Now at George Ranch there was a cowboy demonstration that we were able to see. I will tell you one thing, I really believe that the demonstration could have just been a cowboy- 'MMMmm; would have been worth my money. But alas I did get more for the money. Apparently at one point in history, the cattle that was being raised in Texas was immune to this particular tick, but when this Texas beef mingled and worked the other outta state herds, these weak-outta-staters were dying. So the federal government told ranchers in Texas that they had to "bathe" their cattle once every 21 days. In that nasty water were some fairy potent chemicals that not only killed the ticks, but also killed the cowboys with their fumes as they watched the herds get their bathes, and it even began killing the people who were eating the Texas beef. But no fear, I asked, and now the cattle get "flea-like" treatments, you know that Avantage stuff that you put on your dogs and cats on their shoulders? Same thing, just put it on your cattle.
Also, noted, this was a walking tour...until I came across this sign and suddenly I wasn't so keen on the walking near the rivers and streams as I had before.
Even if Mr. Alligator was trying to tempt me down there with a soda... I didn't buy it for a second.
as immune to this particular tick, but when this Texas beef mingled and worked the other outta state herds, these weak-outta-staters were dying. So the federal government told ranchers in Texas that they had to "bathe" their cattle once every 21 days. In that nasty water were some fairy potent chemicals that not only killed the ticks, but also killed the cowboys with their fumes as they watched the herds get their bathes, and it even began killing the people who were eating the Texas beef. But no fear, I asked, and now the cattle get "flea-like" treatments, you know that Avantage stuff that you put on your dogs and cats on their shoulders? Same thing, just put it on your cattle.
