Colors of the Day

Who said today was all about black? The Rufus and I enjoyed a very colorful walk in the melting snow. I can't edit these photos, but hope you'll appreciate them anyhow.



Rufus assumed every photo stop meant a sniff stop. A couple of times, he thought he was right on top of a critter. I couldn't get him to hold his snout-in-the-snow or pointing poses, but did catch this angle:

Casting Blame... or, why our Thanksgiving pies are square

Happy Thanksgiving! As a descendant of one of the first Thanksgiving celebrants, I wish you great remembrances and thoroughly satisfying eatables. Happy Thanksgiving!

We had just the five -- uh, six -- of us for Thanksgiving dinner today. Rufus actually enjoyed his bites of turkey liver. (He is so NOT motivated by food, but there are a few treats that take his mind off those tennis balls.) The rest of us feasted on turkey, stuffing (not dressing this year!), mashed potatoes, sweet carrots, and pretty good gravy.

And then there's dessert.

Pete and I went shopping earlier this week, and I looked with some interest at the frozen pie section. "They wouldn't taste anything like the real thing, Mom." Okay, okay. I know a compliment when it hits me upside the appetite. I bought pie shells, canned pumpkin, and Granny Smith apples.

I was going to bake both pies last night, but it turned out I was really tired. I realized I could just bake the pumpkin one last night so it could cool, and toss an apple pie into the oven when we took the turkey out today. One cold, one hot. Perfect! I mixed the spices for the pumpkin pie, and then went to get the pie pans out.

Uh, oh.

Remember one of the highlights of our summer? New flooring, new paint, new fence? I also bought a new set of drinking glasses to replace the set that was mostly broken and gone. Between the kitchen work and the new glasses, I decided to do some minor rearrangement of the cupboards. Way up on the top shelf above the mugs and glasses, I had several pie pans that only get used once or twice a year. Why keep those so handy when I could use that spot for something we're regularly accessing? So, the pie pans got moved to a better place. Then, other things got moved to make the painting easier. Shift and re-shift.

Last night, I looked in the old place for my nice pie pans. Oops -- silly me, forgetting that I moved them! Um... moved them... uhhhh...

I looked in all the kitchen cupboards. I looked high and low in the pantry. I looked in the garage, where some of my china is still waiting to be returned to the sideboard in the living room. Um...

I looked in the utility room, where the slow cooker is renting shelf space. I looked again in the pantry, climbing onto the bottom shelf so I could look inside a box up high. I looked once more in the garage, in the kitchen cupboards, even in my closet where the jumbo-size china platter is kept.

No. Pie. Pans. Anywhere.

Ugh.

The spices were mixed. The ingredients were gathered. I could bake the pumpkin pie first thing in the morning, since I wasn't planning to eat dinner until late afternoon. No problem. Go to bed, get a good sleep, and surely I'll remember where I put those pie pans. There's a really nice one from my mother-in-law, and one that we received as a wedding gift. I know they're just right here, close by. I'll remember.

[cue rooster crowing]

Morning dawned. The pie pans must have been placed into the sideboard, then boxed up with the china so we could clear furniture out of the living room. The pie pans, therefore, are in that box in the garage.

Nope.

[insert photo of beautiful square pies, when computer and camera are in synch again]

After our wonderful dinner, I helped Rufus get a tennis ball that had gotten behind a piece of furniture in the basement. Right there, in plain sight, was the box with the pie pans right on top. In plain sight. Where I couldn't miss them. My mother-in-law used to enjoy cleaning her house and finding new, better places to put things. And then, when she needed them, she could not recall where they might be found. I have become my mother-in-law, except for the cleaning part.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Rufus in the Snow

 

My computer's still being wonky, but Rufus is fine! And if you look closely, you'll see teeny little snowflakes streaking across his nose. It's snowing!!!

Great Weekend + Wonky Computer = Blogging Frustration

This past weekend gave me enough new experiences for two or three solid posts!

Unfortunately, my main computer is having major problems. I haven't uploaded my photos yet, and I don't want to post without sharing my pictures. Besides all that, it's been a very busy month. Excuses, excuses. I know. But it'll be worth it when I get these gems written and published here.

In fact, I'm so convinced that the posts will be worth your reading time that I'll give you your money back if not satisfied!


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This offer applies only to individuals whom I have paid to read the Dog's Blog. Money-back offer not available in states whose names contain at least one vowel. Refund may not be given in actual cash. Please address complaints to no one in particular, and stay tuned for blogging fascination in this space once day soon.

New Camera + Sunshine = Awesomeness!!!

 

I got a REAL camera for my birthday, and today was a perfect day for a field trip to try it out. Yay!

Homecoming Gowns, Nail-Biter Football, and Pink

Last night's homecoming game didn't exactly meet my expectations. Don't get me wrong -- the game itself was spectacular. The scoring went back and forth with long touchdown runs, time-eating drives, and a couple of surprises in the kicking game. It would have been so much nicer if we could've won, but it was fun.

In the fifteen years I've kept the scorebook for this school, homecoming has followed strict traditions. Lots of alumni and family show up, a few past members of the dance team participate in the original 1970's routine, and spiffy convertibles drive the homecoming court to the 50-yardline. They used to have fireworks at halftime, until one errant rocket almost toasted the crowd. Unfortunately, I had an extreme front row seat for that event. Sometimes there are streakers (or pseudo-streakers, wearing flesh-toned Spandex.) Homecoming is nice, if not always exciting.

When we got to the field last night, there was a bubbling geyser at the 20 yard line on the home side. Water was erupting from -- an irrigation pipe? There's no real grass within 100 feet of this field! Aha! Suddenly I realized that halftime was going to be something exciting! Maybe the homecoming court would perform a synchronized swimming routine, and the queen would be the one who was propelled out of the water in an aerial spectacular!

No. The grounds crew finally managed to stop the fountain before halftime. Darn. Good thing it wasn't cold enough to freeze.

There were more security officers at this football game than... lemme think... well, there were so many of them that they scared the streakers away. Darn.

On the other hand, the weather was good enough that the girls kept their gowns on through the whole second half. After the game, a few of them came down onto the track to console their boyfriends. Helmets and tulle. What a sight.

But the pink? The pink was very interesting. For the past few years, the football referees use a blue penalty flag for the first game in October. The blue symbolizes Prostate Cancer Awareness. Somehow, some way, it was decided to draw attention this week to breast cancer. The officials at our game were sporting spiffy pink whistles, and had pledged to donate their paychecks to breast cancer research. The only problem was, they hadn't exactly jumped through all the hoops to get this approved. As a result of this act of civil disobedience, they may be required to forfeit not only this paycheck but also could be banned from officiating a couple of playoff games. (You can read about it here.)

In support of Breast Cancer Awareness, and/or in support of the referees, our team was decked out in pink duct tape highlights. There's the pink.

Boy, I sure wish our team could've blocked that last-second field goal and won the game. It was a lot of fun, but it's more fun to win. Oh, well. It was, indeed, a lot of fun.

What I Heard

I was half awake, but here's what I caught on the morning news from a local radio station:

"Thanks for the memories -- there's lots of ones of 'em!"

On the plus side, this comment was made to a friend, and it was only a poor grammatic construct. On the minus side, it was recorded and broadcast because the speaker is the outgoing president of a major university. He's leaving his post here to become head of a national collegiate athletic association. (I won't name him here because I may have mis-heard his statement. Just covering my bases, so to speak.)

Golly gee whiz, we all say things that come out wrong. My mom used to say that she had foot-in-mouth disease. As a kid, I thought she should be able to guard her tongue better than that. It wasn't that she said anything foul -- in fact, she made a point of never swearing -- but either her timing or her content were sometimes very unfortunate. One time, visiting with folks after church, I heard her ask an older man, "Where's your big old fat wife?" His reply? "Right behind you."

Oh, mymymymymy. Unfortunate timing and content, indeed. Mom was always able to laugh at herself, but this was a biggie. She hadn't intended to say anything derogatory; she was just being silly, and out it came.

I did much the same thing recently. In a lighthearted moment, I said something that ended up sounding very racist. Me?! Racist? I'm too embarrassed to recount the details here, but it was one of those foot-in-mouth moments. I didn't realize the potential for harm in my comment until someone else reacted uncomfortably. Oh. (Unlike my mom, this is where I might have said, "Damn.") Well, the words were out, and I couldn't erase them.

The letter of James brings both a little reminder and a bit of comfort.

Let not many of you become teachers, knowing that as such we shall incur a stricter judgment. For we all stumble in many ways. If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect person, able to bridle the whole body as well.

Teachers, public speakers, politicians, and people like me who know better. We all make slips of the tongue, and sometimes these errors are aired for many to hear. No one is perfect, but I'd better pay attention to the silly things I might say... before they escape my lips.

Sigh.

Football Time!

I thought you might enjoy this photo of me on the field at tonight's game. Isn't this a nice facility?

Mustering the Gumption to Catch Up

Hot dog! Here we are again, ready to tackle a bit of writing. There are several things worthy of some catchup, so let's take them one at a time.

Today, more football!

My new scorebook is working well, although it needs a few minor design changes. After Week 2, I realized that there should be a master column/row for turnovers. (We had seven that night. It was ugly.) I plan to use the book as is this year, but at the end of the season I'll make up next year's model and get it printed while it's fresh in my mind. Coach O likes it, and the Athletic Director said, "You're the one doing the work -- it should be whatever you want!" I appreciated those affirmations.

For the first game of the season, my brother was visiting from the Midwest and got to patrol the sidelines with me. What a treat it was to be able to show my bro what I've been doing for about 20 years! We had fun chatting a little and watching the game. It was his first time ever on a varsity sideline. Pretty cool when you get to give your big brother a new experience! (He's way older than me, so aside from teaching him how to give me a bottle when I was a baby, I haven't had opportunity to expose him to many new skills in life.)

Week 2 of our season was an away game, but still at our district's stadium. It feels a little bit different to be on the other side of the field, but it's hard for me to remember is which locker room the guys are using. Not that I've ever been inside, but I'm used to them heading for the north room instead of the visitor's room on the south. Oh, well. The big deal this game, aside from losing big time and committing seven turnovers, was that the National Anthem singer's microphone didn't work. The kids got quiet enough that we could hear a little of her, all the way across the field, with no amplification. Cool! Eventually the home fans joined her, and by the end of the song the whole stadium was singing. The kids were kind of goofy about it, but it was a nice gesture anyway.

Week 3, this past weekend, was marred by rain. As I've noted before, I hate rainy games because I have to move up under cover to keep the book dry. But it's not all bad. This time, I stood next to Mr. F, who knows all three of my sons and remembered me from junior high conferences. Wow! He's a very nice guy, too. In football news, this other team is being led by its seventh head coach in ten years. Sad, sad. How can they ever feel like a team when everything keeps changing? But enough about them. My experience Friday night was filled with rain. Here's the rain, and then a shot of my view of the game from up at the top of the stands.

 

The other good thing that happened because of the rain was that I found a couple more friends in the stands. Their daughter is now in the band, and their son is playing football in middle school. They could be around for several years! Cool -- someone else for me to say hi to and (if it rains again) people to sit with during the breaks.


Looking back over this post, it looks more like a report than a blog entry. Why do I care about high school football games? I love hearing the bands, I love the excitement of the games, I like the coaches and their wives, I love watching and listening to the players on the sidelines when no one else can hear them, and I get excited about everyone else's excitement. I'm not there to be noticed, and this is an activity that's definitely not about me. It's just fun, and I'm thankful to be allowed to be there.

Football! Football!! Football!!!

Bad news this week: Apparently no one in the Greater Puget Sound region has a football scorebook to sell.

Disclaimer: Okay, one store in Redmond had three books available. We drove up there to buy at least two of them, but stopped to look at the pages first. Uh, oh. These books might work well for college or professional ball, but high school football doesn't move fast enough to require one whole page per quarter. Since I do the offensive stats for both teams, that equals eight pages per game. Hey, it already takes me far too long to total everything up when each team is on one page!

Great news this week: Finally, after ten years of wishing, I took the plunge and designed my own scoresheet. Yay! Woo hoo! As with any standardized form, there were things on the old scorebooks that were great and things that I wanted to tweak. The form has to be easy for me to use, and also must be easy for the coaches to interpret later. I have no idea what Coach O will say when he sees my creation, but I'll do my best to butter him up when I drop the completed stats into our milk box tonight. (That's our routine -- I take the book home, tally up the numbers, my husband calls the media, and we leave the book in our milk delivery box so the coach can pick it up early the next morning. Very clandestine!)

Wish me luck with this endeavor. Coach O does not embrace change.

For your review, here's one of the old books and my new creation: