Glazed Sugar Cookies

As I have previously mentioned, my family has been using the same Christmas sugar cookie recipe since 1966. Today, I made them again.

GLAZED SUGAR COOKIES
adapted from American Home, December 1966

3 1/2 C. FLOUR
2 1/2 TSP. BAKING POWDER
1/2 TSP. SALT
1/3 C. SHORTENING
1/3 C. BUTTER
1 1/2 C. SUGAR
1 TSP. VANILLA
2 EGGS
1 TBS MILK

SIFT FLOUR, BAKING POWDER AND SALT TOGETHER. CREAM SHORTENING, BUTTER AND SUGAR IN BOWL UNTIL LIGHT AND FLUFFY. ADD VANILLA AND EGGS; BEAT UNTIL SMOOTH. ADD MILK; BLEND IN FLOUR MIXTURE. CHILL DOUGH SEVERAL HOURS FOR EASIER HANDLING. ROLL OUT A QUARTER OF DOUGH AT A TIME ON LIGHTLY FLOURED BOARD TO 1/4 INCH THICKNESS. CUT OUT COOKIES WITH FLOURED CHRISTMAS-MOTIF CUTTERS. PLACE 1 INCH APART ON UNGREASED COOKIES SHEETS. BAKE AT 400 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT FOR 5 TO 6 MINUTES OR UNTIL EDGES ARE SLIGHTLY VERY LIGHTLY BROWNED. REMOVE COOKIES FROM COOKIE SHEETS WITH SPATULA; COOL ON WIRE RACKS. MAKES 6 DOZEN.

ALTITUDE ADJUSTMENTS: ADD 1 TBS. MILK FOR 2 TBS. MILK TOTAL. DO NOT CHILL DOUGH PRIOR TO ROLLING AND CUTTING AS, AT ALTITUDE, THIS DOES NOT MAKE THE DOUGH EASIER TO HANDLE.

TO FROST, MIX CONFECTIONERS SUGAR, FOOD COLORING AND WATER TOGETHER UNTIL DESIRED CONSISTENCY AND COLOR. WE MAKE A BOWL OF WHITE, RED AND GREEN. DRIZZLE OR SPREAD FROSTING OVER COOKIES AND TOP WITH SPRINKLES.

Photo at top is a double batch.

A fine day of skiing

The expert skier on Kessler's

Since we had another powder day and since I haven't been out to Highlands yet this season, I loaded up my new powder skis and went out to Highlands by myself this afternoon to ski a couple of runs.

Days like today are my favorite conditions to ski Steeplechase and my favorite run, Soddbuster. Since I'm still a "beginning" expert, it's hard to call what I do skiing, especially when compared with all of the real experts who ski Highlands. So, I call what I was doing flailing.

There was some great flailing to be had. I had a giant grin on my face the whole time.

I had so much fun on my first run down Soddbuster that I took my second run down Kessler's which runs right under the lift. Runs which follow the lift line are called showcase runs since you're almost guaranteed an audience. Skiers of my caliber generally avoid such runs since we know that the ski instructors on the lifts are using us as examples of what not to do and that cocky teenagers are laughing at us.

But I didn't care. It was just too good out there.

I'm gonna be rich!!

GABINO S. Y. SOCIO
Solicitor y Notario Publico
Francisco de Rojas 2,
28010 Madrid, Spain
Tel: +34-627-048-443
+34-627-047-930
Fax: 0034-912-919-688

Our Ref:
MH/ASSO/POI/7367/11/07

FECHA: 10/12/2007

BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Dear Bridget XXXXXXX,

Firstly, I must solicit your confidence in this transaction; this is by virtue of its nature as being utterly confidential and top secret. Though I know that a transaction of this magnitude will make any one apprehensive and worried, but I am assuring you that all will be well at the end of the day.

Let me start by first introducing myself properly to you. It may surprise you receiving this letter from me, since there was no previous correspondence between us. My name is Gabino Sancho. Esq. A Spanish-national and personal Attorney to Late Mr. Dunant XXXXXXXX, a national of your country who was hereinafter called my client.

My purpose of contacting you is for you to help secure the funds left behind by my late client, to avoid ti being confiscated or declared serviceable by the Bank Where this fund valued (5,600,000.00) Five Million Six Hunders thousand Euros, deposited by my client before his death.

This Bank has issued me a notice to contact the next of kin or the account will be declared serviceable and the fund diverted to the Bank treasury. So far all my efforts to get a hold of someone related to this man has proved abortive. Hence, I have contacted you. I am actually asking for your consent to present you to the Bank as the Next of Kin/beneficiary of my late client's fund, since you have the same last name, so that the proceeds of this account can be paid to your account, then we can share the fund on a mutually agreed, based on percentage.

All the legal documentations to back up your claim as my client's Next of Kin I shall provided them. All I require is your honest cooperation to enable us achieve this transaction. The intended transaction will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any infraction of the law. However, if this business proposition offends your moral ethics, do accept my sincere apology.

If on the contrary you wish to achieve this goal with me, kindly get back to me with your interest for further explanation. Via: Tel: +34-627-048-443 / +34-627-047-930, Fax: 0034-912-919-688 E-mail: gabinosanchoesq@aim.com

Kindest Regards
Gabino Sancho. Esq.
(LLB HONS)

How lucky am I??

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

In the world of thumbs up, thumbs down, this gets a thumbs up.

Elizabeth Gilbert writes of her quest in the aftermath of a difficult divorce to find the balance between devotion and pleasure by traveling through Italy, India and Indonesia for a year.

It wasn't so much that I wanted to thoroughly explore the countries themselves; this had been done. It was more that I wanted to thoroughly explore one aspect of myself set against the backdrop of each country, in a place that has traditionally done that one thing very well. I wanted to explore the art of pleasure in Italy, the art of devotion in India and, in Indonesia, the art of balancing the two.

While I found the author annoyingly self-indulgent at times and while I couldn't really relate to her whole spiritual quest, I did find her voice candid and her observations witty. For the most part, I enjoyed tagging along with her on her journey as she explored her chosen environs and herself.

I did relate to what she had to say about happiness:

Happiness is a consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it, you must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it. If you don't, you will leak away your innate contentment.

Gilbert's willingness to forthrightly share her quest with the reader (the price of admission for her remarkable year abroad) results in an engaging tome.

I'm sick :-(

It's a godawful virus that hangs out forever. Yuck.

I have a pretty bomber immune system so I don't get sick often.

It takes a pretty heavy duty virus to permeate my defenses so when I do get sick, like once every couple of years, it kicks my ass.

I know, I know, wahhhhh.

Instead of going to my snowboarding class yesterday, I took lots of drugs and slept all day. Then I took lots of drugs but slept sporadically through the night.

I was supposed to meet two friends for skiing today (it's gorgeous out!) but got up this morning and burned through what little energy I had just making breakfast (that and over-reacting to the fact that all of my yogurt was gone).

Migraine + godawful virus + that time of the month = very grumpy girl.

So, with the thought that it's better to miss skiing today than to miss work tomorrow ('cause I'm just responsible like that and, oh yeah, the paycheck is what makes it all possible), I'm spending the day wallowing.

How pathetic am I?

Out, damn'd virus! Out, I say!

I'm thinking I'll be about as successful as Lady Macbeth was . . .

Welcome home!

Ellie welcoming Steve home after a 3 month absence

Level 4

Fanny Hill

I'm learning to snowboard.

I'm not sure why I'm doing this but I am.

Today was my second day snowboarding. Last Sunday (less than a week ago) was my first.

We have a wonderful resource here called Local's Clinics. You either pay $60 for a lesson or for $153 for a season pass which gives you free access to 45 different clinics (a clinic is basically a ski, snowboard or telemark class). Now, you can't do all of them since some of them are scheduled for the same day but still . . .

On Sunday, when I took my first Local's Clinic, a beginning snowboarding clinic, I was a never-ever. As in, I'd never ever been on a snowboard. Luckily for me, it was the day after a big dump (something like 9 inches) so the conditions were conducive to frequent falling.

Snowboarding is freaky. As bi-peds, we're used to our legs operating separately. Not so with snowboarding. I was cool with it when we had only one foot strapped in and were learning to skate and slide on our boards.

All that changed when we strapped both feet in.

Whole different world.

But, by the end of the first day, I was linking turns. Not very many turns, but more than one turn. That's what makes it linking.

I quit a bit early since I wanted to end on a positive note.

Today, after yet another big dump (14 inches this time), I went out for beginning snowboarding Local's Clinic #2. Only I was too good for the beginner class. Who knew? As the instructor sent me over to a different group, he mentioned that they were all level 3.

Level 3? Wait a minute, I'm no level 3. This is only my second time out.

Well, little did I know. I was in fact a level 3.

And now I'm a level 4. Had an awesome morning in soft, forgiving snow. Successfully linked 9 turns. That's quite some linkage.

Went in for lunch and came back out to an entirely different snowpack. Hard, compressed, really slippery snow. Couldn't do anything right. Flailed. Felt like I had forgotten everything I had learned so far.

Persisted and did two more laps. Regained a bit of ground and got to a point where I wasn't totally disheartened. This time, I decided to quit early so that it didn't get any worse.

There's another clinic next Saturday and I'll be there. As a level 4 snowboarder. After just two days.

But tomorrow, I'm going skiing.

Heck, I've already spent (wasted?) two powder days falling on my ass.

I'm back

Did you miss me?

It's snowing in Crested Butte . . .

but I don't live in Crested Butte.

And it's raining here.

And it's 40 degrees.

Which, of course, is why it's raining.

That just ain't right.

It should not be raining at 8000 feet on the last day of November.

But I'm not going to use the G word. Or really the GW words.

Whatever. I'm not going to use them.

Yet.

A good idea brought to fruition

I've had two massages in less than a week.

This is definitely a record for me.

I had a meeting on Sunday at the Aspen Club and afterwards, my awesome, generous friend sprang for us to get massages.

Early Christmas gift. Sweet!

What a great way to end a meeting. Going to Takah for dinner afterwards was just icing on the cake.

But better yet, while sitting at the Aspen Club comparing notes on favorite spa treatments, I mentioned to one of my fellow spa indulgers that my favorite treatment, the Salt Scrub, just happened to be the November monthly massage/treatment special at Yampah Spa.

Yes, Yampah Spa, the very spa whose possibility kept me sane two weeks ago.

Lo and behold, it turned out that the Salt Scrub is also the favorite of my companion.

In a whirlwind of momentum, we quickly cooked up a plan whereby I would switch my day off to correspond with hers and we would go spa-ing and shopping (at Costco, no less) on this, the second to last day of the month of the favored spa treatment special.

And thus it was that, for the first time in my life, I had two massages in less than a week.

And a good idea, once thought to be an opportunity missed due to excessive meeting length, was brought to fruition after all.

And then, we Cost-co'd. Such a day . . .

Tipperary by Frank Delany

I've been a bit delinquent.

I received this book on August 6, 2007 as part of the Advance Reader's program through LibraryThing and read it soon thereafter, finishing it on 8/27/07.

Part of the deal with the Advance Reader's program is that, in return for a free copy of the book, you're supposed to review the book. It doesn't matter if it's a good review or not, you're just supposed to review it.

For some reason, I wasn't very motivated to review this one. I don't know if it was because I only read it out of obligation. I had requested it so I had to follow through on my part of the deal.

I don't know if it was because I wasn't thrilled with it. I don't know if it was because I felt obliged to be kind.

Just not sure.

But, I was in Explore, Aspen's local bookstore, the other day and I saw Tipperary displayed on the counter with the new releases. Checking with Amazon, I found that the book had been published 11/6/07.

So, here I am, writing this review. More as a clearing it off my to do list and assuaging my guilt than anything else.

Not such a great lead-in, huh? Not making you want to rush out and read it, am I?

Rightfully so, perhaps.

I'm fairly ambivalent about this book. I found it a bit difficult to get going. I often found the protagonist annoying.

Let me back up a bit. The book is a cross between historical fiction and a romance novel. It's a romance novel from a male perspective but a romance novel nonetheless. Set in Ireland during the turn of the century, the book unconvincingly entwines the simple, country-boy protagonist, Charles O'Brien, with many a famous individual.

The book is written as Charles' journals and for most of the narrative takes on the often stunted prose of an amateur diarist. Delany also resorts to the improbable artifice of the discovery of writings from O'Brien's mother when faced with the need to include a perspective other than Charles'.

Towards the end of the book, I did start to get interested in the resolution of the "mystery" involving our present day narrator. Not being very familiar with Irish history, I also found some redeeming educational features in O'Brien's story.

I didn't hate it but wouldn't recommend it except to someone with a particular interest in the author, the Irish people or the period.

I do understand that Delany's other book, Ireland, which I have not read, comes much more highly recommended.

Sitemeter outage

Sitemeter.

It's pretty addictive. For someone who claims to not care if anyone's reading, I sure do check Sitemeter often. It's also a lot of fun to see some of the ridiculous search terms people come up with. Or puzzling to see how including a certain image or UPC code (?) generates unexpected traffic.

But Sitemeter was having issues this past weekend.

I spent many a minute refreshing my Sitemeter link over the last couple of days. I could get data for Mountain Musings Project 365 Photoblog, albeit extremely slowly, but not for Mountain Musings.

I consoled myself with the thought that I just had to be patient. When the weekend was over and the tech guys finally fixed the problem, I'd be able to log on and satisfy my curiosity.

Only, not really. I got nothing, nada, zip, zilch, no data from 8:36 pm on 11/23 through 1:19 pm on 11/25. All gone. So sad.

I want my money back. Oh wait, I have a free Sitemeter account.

Sitemeter says:

We’re slowly bringing the downed servers back online but in some cases we’re unable to retrieve data lost during the outage. If your stats are hosted on s21, s24, or s25 you will most likely be missing data from approximately Friday Nov 23rd to Monday Nov 26th.

We are of course very disappointed to learn of this failure; especially after all we’ve done to minimize these kinds of things from happening. We understand the inconvenience this creates for you and although it isn’t much help for those who have lost stats we do apologize.

I know! (making lemonade here) If you stopped by on late 11/23, all day 11/24 or early am 11/25 or if you think you stopped by or if you thought about stopping by, or if you wish you had stopped by, leave me a comment. Yeah, that's it. A comment.

It'll be like a manual sitemeter. Kinda like when you revert to the old credit card slide machine when your power goes out.

It shouldn't

I've often wondered why it matters.
(from PostSecret)

“It is a serious offense to mock God.”

From the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster:

The Eight "I'd Really Rather You Didn'ts"

1. I'd really rather you didn't act like a sanctimonious holier-than-thou ass when describing my noodly goodness. If some people don't believe in me, that's okay. Really, I'm not that vain. Besides, this isn't about them so don't change the subject.
2. I'd really rather you didn't use my existence as a means to oppress, subjugate, punish, eviscerate, and/or, you know, be mean to others. I don't require sacrifices, and purity is for drinking water, not people.
3. I'd really rather you didn't judge people for the way they look, or how they dress, or the way they talk, or, well, just play nice, Okay? Oh, and get this into your thick heads: woman = person. man = person. Samey = Samey. One is not better than the other, unless we're talking about fashion and I'm sorry, but I gave that to women and some guys who know the difference between teal and fuchsia.
4. I'd really rather you didn't indulge in conduct that offends yourself, or your willing, consenting partner of legal age AND mental maturity. As for anyone who might object, I think the expression is go f*** yourself, unless they find that offensive in which case they can turn off the TV for once and go for a walk for a change.
5. I'd really rather you didn't challenge the bigoted, misogynistic, hateful ideas of others on an empty stomach. Eat, then go after the b*******.
6. I'd really rather you didn't build multi million-dollar churches/temples/mosques/shrines to my noodly goodness when the money could be better spent (take your pick):
1. Ending poverty
2. Curing diseases
3. Living in peace, loving with passion, and lowering the cost of cable
I might be a complex-carbohydrate omniscient being, but I enjoy the simple things in life. I ought to know. I AM the creator.
7. I'd really rather you didn't go around telling people I talk to you. You're not that interesting. Get over yourself. And I told you to love your fellow man, can't you take a hint?
8. I'd really rather you didn't do unto others as you would have them do unto you if you are into, um, stuff that uses a lot of leather/lubricant/Las Vegas. If the other person is into it, however (pursuant to #4), then have at it, take pictures, and for the love of Mike, wear a CONDOM! Honestly, it's a piece of rubber. If I didn't want it to feel good when you did it I would have added spikes, or something.

The quote in the title is from Mrs. Kathy Martin, District 6 member of the Kansas State Board of Education when that body was deciding whether to require that the alternative theory of Intelligent Design be taught along with the theory of Evolution.

Fascinating stuff

There are 68,246 Bridgets in the US.

There are 4,000,755 Marys in the US.

There are 910 people in the US with my last name.

There are twelve people in the US with my first and last name.

There are zero people in the US with my middle and last name.

There are 367,014 Rachels in the US.

There is one and only one person in the US with Rachel's first and last name. I'm guessing that's Rachel.

That's kinda cool.

There are 1,185,986 Stevens in the US.

There are 2,120,215 people with Steve's last name in the US.

There are 8,290 people with Steve's first and last names in the US.

Rachel:

HowManyOfMe.com

There is 1 person with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Me (and all 12 are my first cousins . . .):

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 12 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

No wonder I started using my middle name!

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 4,000,755 people named Mary in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Can I Sit with You?

There's a blog, Can I Sit with You?, which is collecting adult stories about adolescent ostracism and bullying for the purpose of publishing a book to be used to let kids know that even though it hurts, they're not alone and others have experienced the same sorts of things.

A laudable concept.

Unfortunately my response wasn't quite so high minded.

While browsing the blog, I came across one story which named names and I immediately wanted to write a post calling out all of those nasty grammar school girls who had been so mean to me.

Petty, huh?

Here I am, 30+ years later and I want to name names.

Sue Bohn, Cathee Collier, Donna Huspen.

Oooo, that felt good.

Happy Thanksgiving

While I feel sheepish about my lack of originality, I don't feel energetic enough to do anything about it, other than acknowledge that I feel sheepish.






Things I am thankful for:

-- Darling Daughter who is old enough to bake the Thanksgiving Pumpkin Spice cake (recipe below) so I don't have to.

-- postcard coupon for $50 off at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse which we redeemed last night.

-- friends who host potluck Thanksgiving dinner which means that I only have to bring a Pumpkin Spice cake which Darling Daughter made.

-- husband who periodically goes far away to work in Tropical Paradise.

-- husband who comes home to Mountain Paradise after working far away in Tropical Paradise.

-- extra money to spend in pricey Mountain Paradise which husband earns when he works far away in pricey Tropical Paradise.

-- visiting husband in Tropical Paradise when he works far away.

-- extended family who spend every other Christmas in Mountain Paradise, pricey though it is.

PUMPKIN SPICE CAKE
Recipe from Bridget’s Family Files

4 EGGS
2 CUPS SUGAR
1 CUP OIL
1 16 OZ CAN PUMPKIN
2 CUPS FLOUR
2 TSP BAKING SODA
½ TSP SALT
2 TSP CINNAMON

MIX ALL INGREDIENTS TOGETHER. POUR INTO A GREASED AND FLOURED TUBE CAKE PAN. BAKE ONE HOUR AT 350°. COOL COMPLETELY BEFORE FROSTING. REMOVE FROM PAN.

6 OZ CREAM CHEESE
1 LB POWDERED SUGAR
1 STICK BUTTER
2 TSP VANILLA

MIX INGREDIENTS TOGETHER. BEAT UNTIL SMOOTH. THICKLY FROST ENTIRE CAKE.

AT ALTITUDE: ADD 1 EGG. OMIT 2 TBSP OIL. OMIT 3 TBSP SUGAR. OMIT 1/4 TSP BAKING SODA. INCREASE OVEN TEMPERATURE APPROXIMATELY 20°, SHORTEN COOKING TIME. START CHECKING FOR DONENESS AT APPROXIMATELY 45 MINUTES.

Christmas music

Since this is what I awoke to this morning, I've got the Christmas music going right now.

It just feels right, looking out the window at the bright white and listening to Peace on Earth.

So many people turn their noses up at Christmas music. They talk about how annoying it is that the stores are playing Christmas music earlier and earlier every year. They talk about limiting their shopping to online shopping in an effort to avoid Christmas music.

I don't understand.

I'm repeating myself here but I'm a Christmas music freak.

It puts me in a really good mood to consider that not only do I have my own Christmas music collection of 520 songs (yes, 15 more songs than a year ago!), 1.2 days, 1.68 GB but there's also now my Sirius radio subscription which will provide me with 3 stations of round the clock Christmas music starting this past Monday.

Although, I do have Christmas music envy, since I read somewhere that XM has 5 Christmas music stations. I wish they'd hurry up and merge like they keep threatening.

KUUR, Your! Radio is also doing the Christmas music thing but I'm going to have to find out what its frequency is because it's only My! radio this time of year. (the rest of the year it pays sucky, sappy music. oh, wait . . .)

And while RadioFreeAspen doesn't seem to be repeating their Christmas offerings of last year, it's early so there's still hope . . .

Christmas music makes me happy.

That's just wrong

Being wrong annoys me.

I like to know what I'm talking about. If someone tells me something that's contrary to what I believe to be true, I get frustrated. With myself.

Like why didn't I know that? I should have known that.

Or why do I think it's different? Why am I misinformed?

Enough so that I go out of my way for things that are entirely inconsequential.

Take the other day, for example. I ran into a visitor who, granted, used to live here. In the course of our conversation, he complains that the bus from the airport into town isn't free.

I think, yes, it is. I just told my brother that it is. It is, isn't it? When did they change that? Why didn't I know that?

I say, "Really?"

Yep, he maintains. Gotta pay to get from the airport into town.

The conversation moves on and shortly thereafter we go our separate ways.

My separate way involves an immediate detour to the bus station that's 2 blocks away where I ascertain that, in fact, it is free to take the bus from the airport to town and from town to the airport.

Ok, I feel so much better . . .

More reasons I heart Aspen

Yesterday, since it was unseasonably warm, I decided to take Ellie for a stroll through town.

I was meandering down Cooper Street, watching some visitors load their kids in their rental car, when the mom says "Hey, I know you!" to me.

I'm thinking, huh?

"Yep, I hiked the Grand Canyon with you!"

Sure enough, standing in front of me was one of the people with whom I had hiked the Grand Canyon Labor Day weekend of 1998. This being the life changing trip which led almost directly to me moving to Aspen the following Memorial Day weekend.

I hadn't seen her since a party shortly after I had decided to move here.

Encounters like this are such fun. I've had multiple since I moved here.

One day I was walking down the street when a car pulled up next to me. The driver rolled down his window and said my first name, which just happens to be a name I stopped using when I was in 9th grade. Turns out it was someone with whom I had gone to grammar school. He was in Aspen with his whole family including his parents who are very good friends of my parents but who now live hundreds of miles away from where we all grew up and even more hundreds of miles away from here.

Another day I was walking up the street and happened upon one of my old bosses from over twenty years ago.

I also live down the street from a retired judge from Skokie who worked with the father of one of my high school friends.

I recently spoke on the phone with a gentleman whose eight kids all went to my grammar school. When he asked if he needed to spell his last name for me, I said, "No, I went to OLPH."

Just some more reasons why living here is different from living most other places.

I heart Aspen

In Aspen, the students, no matter what grade, call almost all of their teachers by their first names.

The rare teachers who insist on being called Mr. or Ms. just come across as silly (but of course their wishes are "respected").

When Rachel went on the People to People trip this summer, the chaperones were 3 teachers from Grand Junction, all of whom insisted on being called Mr. and Ms. Rachel ended up getting in a heated discussion with one of them about how ridiculous she thought this was.

In eighth grade, one of Rachel's unmarried teachers became pregnant and had a baby.

Nobody said a word about it. There was no negative backlash, really no commentary at all.

The other day, Rachel, now a sophomore, informed me that her world history teacher who is unmarried has announced that she is pregnant.

All I could do was laugh out loud, exclaiming I love Aspen!

No wonder I fit in here so well . . .

Double Dissed

Not only won't Peter Dewolf be my friend but I seem somehow to have fallen out of favor with NaBloPoMo's Randomiser.

After an initial spike in traffic driven by the Randomizer, I haven't had a Random visit since November 8th.

Hmmm.

Maybe I've pissed it off by pointing out its indecisiveness in that it can't seem to chose between S and Z.

If so, it's awfully touchy . . .

(shhhh - maybe it's a good thing. There appears to be an awful lot of random tagging going on amongst NaBloPoMo members and I'm not such a good joiner so maybe I should just keep quiet. Hmmm, which would I rather; traffic and tagging or no traffic and no tagging?)

Prematurity Awareness Month

November is Prematurity Awareness Month.

Rachel was 10 weeks premature. Born at 30 weeks weighing 3 lbs 4 oz, she was in the NICU for 51 days. Her weight dropped to 2 lbs 9 oz.

My mom's best friend was struck by the fact that Rachel weighed less than the chicken she was buying for dinner. Check out just how tiny a three pound chicken is the next time you're in the meat section of the grocery store.

Rachel was a scrawny little thing. She looked like a peanut with her wrinkly skin.

Rachel on the day she was born

She came home after her extended hospital stay weighing just under 5 lbs.

Rachel the day she came home from the hospital

Once she was home, she thrived.

Rachel at 6 mos.

Now, almost 16 years later, she's nearly as tall as I am and will probably pass me soon. Her feet are already bigger than mine . . .

Rachel now.

Colbie Caillat

Colbie Caillat's coming to BellyUp Aspen on 12/20.

So, I now have 35 days to listen to Coco continuously (and seriously annoy Rachel) . . .

A good idea

Yesterday I was whining about how horrible my day was going to be today.

I was moaning about how I had to get up so early and I had to be on the spot for so long and then I had to hang around 45 miles from home for 3 and a half hours with nothing to do only to be on the spot again.

I was finding my complaining quite annoying.

But my boss, my unbelievably generous boss, even though I made her listen to me, even though I made her read yesterday's entry, came up with a really good idea.

She suggested that during my break, I go over to Yampah Spa and get a massage or just relax in the vapor caves.

Wow!

She even offered to pay for it.

Double wow!

The existence of this possibility made my entire day easier to face.

And the fact that my first meeting ran long and I didn't have time to take advantage of her offer is almost beside the point.

Waffling

My interior dialogue:

(background - I have a 7 1/2 hour meeting that starts at 7:30 am tomorrow at a location that's an hour away from my house and for the entire duration of the meeting, I need to be the reincarnation of the Eveready Bunny.)

Hmmm, maybe I should stay in a hotel close to the meeting place tonight.

But, I have a dinner meeting tonight here and wouldn't be able to leave until about 8 pm.

But, if I get there at 9 pm and go straight to bed . . .

But, there'll be a TV. What are the chances I'll be able to resist the temptation?

But, if I stay home, I'll have to get up at 5:30 am. I'll be toast before I even get down there.

But, what if I can't sleep at the hotel?

You don't have a problem sleeping.

But what if it's a noisy room?

But how good will it feel when you wake up tomorrow and you're already there?

But I'll have to be organized enough to pick out clothes tonight and to make sure I don't forget anything.

There's no winning an argument with me . . .

Who remembers this stuff?

Deckchair Danny aka Laura B is conducting some research for a class:

We are conducting this survey on menarche (first menstrual period) as part of a research project for our anthropology class at Whatcom Community College. Over the last 150 years, there has been a reduction in the average age at which girls have their first menstrual period. We hope that your answers to the following questions will help us to understand some of the factors. Thank you very much for your participation.

Well, I definitely can't answer many of these questions. Can you?

Maybe the questionnaire isn't aimed at women of my advanced age . . .

Its

Yesterday, NaBloPoMo's Randomiser brought me to Tillerman's blog, Proper Course wherein he was discussing pointless blogs.

He gave two examples, neither of which he has since decided adequately illustrated his point. But he did manage to hurt a complete stranger's feelings with one of his examples so that's something.

He's now wondering if there is a such a thing as a pointless blog or if all blogs are pointless.

But that's not what I want to discuss.

One of his examples was a blog that documents instances where the letter i is dotted when it shouldn't be. Now granted, I don't see much reason to get my panties in a bunch over this. I'm going to assume that when people do this, they know they're doing it. I mean, we're talking about capitalization here. Really straightforward capitalization.

No, my complaint, my pet peeve, my obsession lies with its.

My entry into Tillerman's pointless blog category (other than this one and this one) would be a blog dedicated to calling out all those instances when otherwise literate individuals use it's when they should be using its or its when it should be it's.

I fear, however, that this would be too overwhelming an undertaking. Just googling blogs for it's its gives me 4 errors on the first page, three in blog titles and one where the writer uses its incorrectly and it's correctly in the same sentence.

It makes my head hurt.

Basically, I'm too lazy, busy, dispassionate, unengaged, _______ (fill in the blank) to do more than write a single blog entry about my frustration with the misusage of its and it's.

Dissed

Peter DeWolf won't be my friend.

As I wrote the other day, Peter DeWolf is responsible for me finding out about NaBloPoMo. Somehow or another I found Such Great Heights which I liked so I RSS'd it.

This past week Clink has been in Boston on a business trip so she had guest bloggers. Peter was her guest blogger on Tuesday and after reading his post, I checked out his blog. And became acquainted with NaBloPoMo.

So I joined. NaBloPoMo is actually a social network like Facebook, only much smaller. And its software, Ning, isn't as functional.

Now, I'm no Little Miss Popularity. Not really interested. On Facebook, I have 16 friends, mostly family and Rachel's friends.

This does not bother me. Really, I'm ok with it.

On NaBloPoMo, I got friended by a complete stranger and thought, what the heck? So I have one friend.

Since Peter, unbeknownst to him, was really my first friend on NaBloPoMo, I thought it'd be "fun" to friend him. Expecting the opportunity to send the request with a short explanation (since of course Peter doesn't know me from Eve), I clicked Add as a Friend and was immediately dismayed to get a little message stating "Request sent!"

Well, don't be so happy about it, Ning, 'cause you suck. You're supposed to let me add a note the way Facebook does.

A short while later, Sitemeter tells me that Peter has checked my blog. (which, BTW, I quickly edited to add a reference to him in the hopes that he would make the connection.)

And then, nothing. Silence.

Peter DeWolf doesn't want to be my friend. Sniff.

She Loves Me

The Aspen Community Theatre's production this year is She Loves Me, a 1963 Broadway musical.

One of four adaptations of Miklos Laszlo's 1937 play, Parfumerie, (the other three being 1940's Shop Around the Corner, 1949's In the Good Old Summertime and, most familiar to us, 1998's You've Got Mail), She Loves Me is the story of two antagonistic shop clerks who are also in love with each other as anonymous lonely hearts club penpals.

It's a cute pretext with humor sprinkled throughout and well-performed by our local talent. While the first half drags a bit, the play really hits its stride in the second half and makes up for any first half shortcomings.

Real life husband and wife Nikki and Jonathon Boxer play the romantic leads and Bryan Gonzalez has a great time playing the cad, Steven Kodaly (pronounced co-day).

Yikes!

Yesterday evening, Rachel and I heard the fire station whistle at around 5:30 pm. Since it wasn't noon, we both said, "Uh-oh, that's a bummer."

Quite the bummer.

Started hearing news reports on the radio that the fire involved a property right across the alley from my parents' condo. Since I'm the designated property manager for their condo (I even get paid for this title), I felt an obligation to go check the situation out, being that I'm so responsible and all.

The desire to gawk had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Smoke blanketed the entire city. Driving down Main Street was a bit surreal. Like a really dirty fog.

I parked a couple of blocks away so that I could maneuver better and walked over. Spent a fair amount of time watching from just across the alley. Almost got sprayed by the fire trucks on the street on the other side of the building. Figured out after, oh, 45 minutes or so that I was probably inhaling toxic materials. D'oh.

Two hours into the fire, they still hadn't gotten inside, since the hot spots kept flaring up.

While vacant, the building, the Holiday House, is employee housing owned by Aspen SkiCo and they were going to start moving in seasonal employees in less than a month. They were just about to finish up with interior renovations. The building is a complete loss so now they're down 60 beds at a time when they were already short on housing. Uggh. I saw Mike Kaplan, the CEO, walking down the street on his cellphone. Must have sucked to be him last night . . .

I got a few pictures. Not as many as I might have since, while I had the presence of mind to grab the camera on my way out the door, I left the memory card in the computer. The internal memory on my camera is pathetic.

Got home and smelled so smoky that I couldn't stand myself . . .

Recco

Aspen Highlands has a fine slate of avalanche dogs, dogs trained in avalanche rescue. Since my affiliation with Highlands, which began in 2000, Recco, a black lab, had been the grande dame. She was awesome, all business and a bit standoffish with the public, unlike Emma, one of the newer additions who loves to play with the public as they get off the Loge lift. Recco pretty much kept to herself, waiting for those opportunities when she could get out in the snow with her handler. She adored working in the snow. Her entire demeanor would change when Suey was getting ready to take her out.

Ironically, for an avi dog, she really didn't like the avalanche bombs. I remember sitting next to her on a bench as she sat very still and trembled while the patrollers were bombing the Highland Bowl.

Recco retired a few years ago and since she wasn't up at Highlands much or at least not when I was up there, I lost track of her. I assumed she was enjoying her retirement and living the good life here in the Roaring Fork Valley.

I was saddened to see the above remembrance of her in the paper today.

But is it worth it?

I really like Seal's music.

He was supposed to play Jazz Aspen Snowmass in September of 1999 and I had tickets.

$45 tickets.

Shortly before the show, he cancelled.

Story was that when his manager booked Seal, he neglected to book Seal's band. Oops.

Oh well, I did get my money back.

Seal's coming to play BellyUp Aspen on 12/22.

General admission is $250.

$250.

Reserved seating is $450.

This will be the third consecutive December that Seal's played BellyUp Aspen. All sell-outs. All really pricey.

I really want to go . . .

NaBloPoMo Randomizer

Blogger has Next Blog but it doesn't work so well since it's been hijacked by hacks. More than 50% of what comes up on Next Blog is either obscene, an advertisement or both.

So, an unexpected benefit of NaBloPoMo is the Randomizer (or Randomiser depending on which of NaBloPoMo's webpages you're looking at).

Probably due to the fact that NaBloPoMo is a much younger and therefore smaller community, almost every blog which comes up when clicking its Next Random Blog link is an honest to goodness real live person's musings about his/her life.

Very refreshing.

My own blog actually came up. That's never happened for me on Blogger's Next Blog.

actually posted 11/9/07, 7:01 pm

Locals' Discounts

We spent the weekend saving money.

Too bad saving money is so expensive . . .

The "we" are me, Rachel, my brother and sister-in-law. They (B3 & SIL1 and only so far) are coming, along with the rest of the immediate family, to spend Christmas in Aspen.

Christmas in Aspen is pricey. No discounts.

As I have already noted, B3 & SIL1AOSF flew to Aspen to take advantage of the crazy savings on the Classic Pass. In addition, SkiCo's gear shop, Four Mountain Sports, was having its Blowout Sale all weekend long. In addition to that, the Ski Swap was Saturday.

Fall off season can really be the time for locals to score.

So many opportunities to save . . .

After 3 trips to the Blowout Sale and several hours at the Ski Swap, not including the stop at the Buttermilk ticket office, we ended up with 2 classic passes, an employee dependent pass, a locals' clinic pass, 2 pairs of used skis, a pair of new skis, 2 new snowboards with bindings, a pair of new poles, a pair of new bindings, a pair of new ski boots, two pairs of new snowboard boots, a pair of new ski pants, a new jacket and assorted socks, gloves, mittens, long underwear and goggles.

The credit cards were smoking . . .

Factor in the five restaurant meals over 2 days and the live theater (Rachel's high school play) and we certainly did our share for Aspen's off season economy.

actually posted 11/7/07, 12:09 pm

Fighting for Myself

Dara Harvick and Sydney Sailor in Fighting for Myself

Rachel is/was in the Aspen High School fall play which just happened to be performing this weekend, the same weekend that B3 and SIL1AOSF (see tomorrow's post if you're confused) were making their "knuckleheaded Aspen trip" (to quote B3).

So, lucky B3 and SIL1AOSF got to attend a high school performance. Aren't family obligations great? (They claim to have enjoyed it.)

The play which was underwritten by Valley Partnership for Drug Prevention and Response (the local domestic abuse agency) had a decidedly dark cast to it. It consisted of a number of short skits dealing with different adolescent/teen girl issues such as sex, drugs, peer pressure, pregnancy and alcohol.

Two days before the performance, two of the girls were kicked out/dropped out and so there was a last minute scramble to reassign parts and learn entirely new scenes. The cast was entirely female and the girls (Rachel, Erin Daniel, Heather Boronski, Sydney Sailor and Dara Harvick) became fast friends. It was awesome to see how they bonded.

They'll be performing it for the 8th, 9th and 10th grade girls next week but due to the touchy subject matter, they need to get permission slips. The subject matter also threw a wrench into the plans to perform at other schools in the valley to the dismay of the director, Merrily Talbott.

We did go out for a yummy dinner at the bar at Jimmy's afterwards. Bar menus rock.

Actually posted 11/8/07, 6:01 pm

Classic Pass

Aspen SkiCo has this thing called a Classic Pass. It's actually a really good deal. Such a good deal that they make you purchase it in person the first time you buy it.

For $259 (this year), you get seven days of skiing on any of the four Aspen SkiCo mountains. That's $37 a day. Compared to a single day ticket which prices out at $87. That's a significant savings.

In addition, once you purchase it in person, you can renew it every year online, so long as you don't miss a year.

Such a deal.

In fact, it's such a good deal that my brother and sister-in-law who will be coming here at Christmas flew here today to take advantage of the savings.

Interestingly, the savings is $308 each. And they just happened to find an airfare from Chicago to Aspen for (pause for dramatic effect) $308 each.

Coincidence?

actually posted 11/7/07, 12:12 pm

NaBloPoMo

National Blog Posting Month.

Inspired by National Novel Writing Month,

. . . you look at the calendar, and when the whole world goes, "Oh, I can't believe they're already playing Christmas music in the warden's office!" you'll know it's November and that is the month in which you post something to your blog every day, in accordance with the National Blog Posting Month challenge!

I'm only starting out 5 posts behind but I think I'm going to try this.

They (the people over at NaBloPoMo) will probably consider it cheating to fill in posts for the past few days but I justify it by the fact that I just learned about this today from Peter DeWolf, who is a guest blogger at Such Great Heights, a blog I read regularly.

So there, that makes it all ok.

I seem to like the pressure of having to post every day, as evidenced by my desire to do this and my photoblog.

in the interests of full disclosure, this post was really posted 11/6/07, 10:02 pm.

Hawaii itinerary

What follows is the bare bones description of our time in Hawaii, mostly so that I don't forget it:

Friday, October 19, 2007 - arrived Kahului (flight from Denver to Honolulu was delayed for 4 hours so we missed our original connection but luckily caught the last plane from Honolulu to Kahului), picked up convertible, checked into Pioneer Inn Lahaina, Steve & I walked around Lahaina, passed out.

Saturday, October 20, 2007 - early morning walk for me around Lahaina, breakfast with Steve & Rachel at Pioneer Inn, beach at Kamehameha Iki Park, walked along beach to 303, back to Pioneer Inn, pool time at Pioneer Inn, Rachel and I drove to Kaanapali for sunset, dinner with Steve and Rachel at Leilani's on the Beach.

Sunday, October 21, 2007 - Steve, Rachel & I had breakfast at Lahaina Coolers, Rachel & I checked out of Pioneer Inn, Rachel & I did internet time at Livewire Cafe (I had to do payroll & Rachel homework), lunch from Foodland (poke, yum!), drove to Launiopoko, met Danny & Christine at Puamana, Rachel & I swam at Puamana.

Monday, October 22, 2007 - Steve & I took ferry to Molokai after a stop at Livewire Cafe for coffee, shuttle to Kualapuu airport (Molokai Offroad), picked up rental car, drove to Kalaupapa overlook, hiked short ways down Kalaupapa trail, drove to Halawa and played at beach, drove back to Kaunakakai, back to airport, ferry back to Lahaina, Steve, Rachel & I had dinner at Lahaina Coolers

Tuesday, October 23, 2007 - Rachel & I drove to Hana, breakfast at Moana Cafe in Paia, stopped at Honomanu Bay (photo above), stopped at Keanae, stopped at Wailea Valley overlook, hiked to Waimoku Falls in Haleakala National Park, rushed back (as much as you can rush on the road to Hana), went to Tuesday night dinner with Steve and Rachel at the neighbors'. (ran out of time for Hamoa Beach)

Wednesday, October 24, 2007 - Rachel & I had a beach day at Kaanapali, lunch at Leilani's, convertible broke, Steve, Rachel & I had dinner at Old Lahaina Luau, rental car swapped out.

Thursday, October 25, 2007 - I got up at 5 am and watched the moon set at Puamana, Steve & I walked into Lahaina and to Starbuck's early morning, Rachel & I had a shopping day in Lahaina, lunch at BJ's Chicago Pizzeria, I did sunset at Puamana pool, I had dinner with Steve, Danny, Christine & Mason at Westin, I had drinks with Christine & Melanie at Westin

Friday, October 26, 2007 - Steve, Rachel and I drove to Kihei to meet Robin & Laurie, swam with the turtles at Makena Harbor, lunch at Wailea Whaler's General Store, convertible broke again, drove Steve to Lahaina, Rachel & I drove back to Kihei to go to the Grand Wailea Spa with Laurie, dinner at Outback Steakhouse.

Saturday, October 27, 2007 - Steve, Rachel and I had breakfast at Livewire Cafe, lunch at Hula Grill Kaanapali with Trevor, Donna, Toby, Brielle and Shane, Rachel and I drove back to Puamana to finish packing, drove to other side to leave. (never did get to Haleakala for sunrise . . .)

I wasn't ready to leave which is unusual for me.

I'm going to Hawaii tomorrow

Yesterday, I was going to Hawaii today.

Today, I'm going to Hawaii tomorrow.

:-(

Since it was snowing all day yesterday and since the 7 am flight is the most often cancelled flight (at one of the airports with the most cancelled flights), I knew it wasn't looking good. If the last flight in on Wednesday landed, our chances of getting out were better.

So I kept checking the flight status of the last flight in, Flight 6337. I was relieved when it was listed as IN FLIGHT.

It's currently still listed as IN FLIGHT . . .

Hmmm. You'd think they'd have run out of gas by now.

Just as I was commenting last night on the fact that we hadn't gotten a cancellation call yet, the phone rang. I'm not making this up.

Of course, because the airlines are flying so lean these days, everything for the rest of the day today was booked. We could have taken our chances with standby but there's two of us and two connections so the odds weren't with us.

Since it looked like I was going to be stuck somewhere overnight, I opted for my own bed.

At least The Pioneer Inn in Lahaina let me modify tonight's hotel reservation . . .

Jumping through hoops

Come to find out that some dog rescue agencies have a hard and fast rule that families with children under 14 can't adopt small dogs.

Huh?

A responsible pet owner will teach his/her children how to behave with and around pets. The mere existence of children shouldn't automatically disqualify anyone. The fact that the potential pet owner is childless does not insure that he/she will be a responsible pet owner.

The irony here is that the rescue agencies, at the same time they're supposedly attempting to save dogs, are forcing interested (and likely qualified) parties into purchasing dogs.

When we purchased Ellie (4.5 years ago when Rachel was 11), we didn't have to go through this kind of b.s.

Happy?

I've been feeling pretty contented recently. While nothing's perfect, my job, kid, husband, house, hometown, etc., are all pretty good.

Life is good.

Yesterday, I got a phone call out of the blue offering me a job 45 miles away for approximately 3 times what I'm making now.

Wow.

I said, thanks, but no thanks. I was asked to consider it a little longer so I said I'd talk to my husband and get back to them if I was interested.

It's a job with a lot of growth potential and increased earning potential (over and above the immediate 300% increase).

I am extremely flattered. I am a bit intimidated.

My house is tied to employment in Pitkin County. This job offer is not in Pitkin County.

It would mean commuting 2 hours a day, which I used to do. 15 years ago.

I purposefully opted out of the rat race. But, as it stands right now, we don't know how we're going to pay for Rachel's college or our retirement. This would certainly help.

I always knew that I was undervaluing myself but justified it by counting it as a sacrifice necessary to live in such an incredible place.

Now, that sacrifice has been quantified. When assessing the balance sheet, how do you quantify the unquantifiable, the other side of the equation, the intangible?

I blame the teachers

I'm a big one for personal responsibility. I don't have much patience for those who like to blame others for their shortcomings and bad decisions.

So, it's taken me a while to get here.

For years now, Rachel and I have been struggling with the fact that she has a very hard time getting her assignments in. This fact has caused much angst, conflict and tension in our home.

We have appealed to the teachers for help. Every year I start the school year by letting her teachers know about our struggles and asking for their assistance. I can't police her homework if I don't know what her assignments are or if I don't find out until weeks later that assignments are missing.

Over the past few years, her school has become more and more internet interactive. We can now check grades and homework assignments online. Of course, it's totally dependent upon the teachers taking the time to upload the information but it's a step in the right direction.

Even so, Rachel still struggles. It's so different from my experience at her age. She's bright and intelligent like I was but not as organized and much more distractable. Try as I might (and believe me, I've tried), I don't know how to help her.

I've given it a lot of thought, for quite a while. But it wasn't until the other evening, when my parents and I were rehashing it all, that a little light bulb went off.

When I was in grammar school, if a student didn't turn his/her homework in, the teacher called him/her out in front of the whole class. The teacher went around the room, collecting homework and everyone in class knew who hadn't done theirs. The teacher would stop and question the student right then and there.

Public shaming.

The anxiety about being publicly shamed was a huge motivator.

Immediate consequences for negative behavior. Not bad grades at the end of the semester. Not difficulty getting into college years later. Immediate public shaming.

My parents said, yep, it was the same for them in the 50s. Pursuing my hypothesis, I asked a bunch of friends last night. Yep, all seven of them, ranging 20 years in age, said it was the same for them.

But not for Rachel. Not here in Aspen. Didn't do your homework? No worries. That's just between you and your teacher. No one needs to know.

Yep, I blame the teachers.

Community

The majority of Aspen locals are transplants, people who are living far from their extended families. So, we have become each others' extended families and we take care of each other.

It's pretty amazing to see.

On Friday, 800 people paid $35 a piece to attend a benefit for a friend, Bob Sloezen, who is fighting bladder cancer and who has found that the gap between his health insurance coverage and his medical expenses was sickeningly large.

So his friends rallied to the call. In addition to all of the liquor and the entertainment for the party, there were approximately 200 items with values ranging from $50 to $5000 donated for the silent auction.

The place was packed. The parking lot was full. The line to get in stretched outside the door. I was there for 4 hours and probably never even saw 500 of my fellow attendees. Maximum capacity was exceeded by scores. Entrance fees alone netted $28,000.

They're calling it the party of the decade.

Whiner

I work in a building that was built some time in the 1880s (we think).

It's pretty awesome and funky and unique.

It's got character.

It's also got old, historic windows that don't open.

Now in Aspen, that's usually not a problem. It doesn't really get hot here. Or at least it doesn't get hot here very often or for very long.

However, in my little office, on the second (or top) floor with four computer servers, a copier and a printer and the windows that don't open, it can get pretty darn warm in July and August.

So much so that there are afternoons when my office is a good 10+ degrees warmer than the rest of the building.

So much so that sometimes I have to leave early because I'm just too hot and irritable to be productive.

So much so that I recently brought a room thermometer so that I'll know just how hot it is when I'm too hot and irritable to be productive.

Well, after listening to Morning Edition this morning, I feel like a big ole whiner. It seems that for government buildings in Japan, the air conditioning is set at 28 degrees celsius or 82 degrees fahrenheit. Factor in printers, PCs and other machines and the temp climbs to 31 degrees celsius or 88 degrees fahrenheit.

All of this in offices which aren't nearly as tolerant of the casual dress code (tank tops, capris and flip flops) that I'm able to get away with.

Illustration credit.