This week I wrote a blog post about my recent hot air balloon ride. I got a lot of comments, both on Facebook (where I post my blog daily) and on my post itself. A few people had ridden a balloon themselves, but more were impressed that Bill and I had been brave enough to do so. But my favorite comment was from my brother-in-law David, who has done just about everything you can imagine in his life, from driving a NASCAR to going on safari in Africa. His comment? We did that in Utah in ski season years ago. Could be addictive. Very peaceful, wasn’t it? I had nightmares several nights before we went. Dreamed the bottom of the basket fell out. Friends, I thought I had the patent on creative ways to worry. The bottom of the basket falling out never even occurred to me. I’m slacking.
The World’s Editor
Bill and I have a standing joke. Well it’s really my standing joke, since I’m the only one who finds it funny. Every time I see a misspelling in a book or a sign, or a misuse of our lovely English language somewhere in the public, I will always comment, “Must I be the world’s editor?” And the need arose again last Saturday night when Bill and I went to the Indie car race at Phoenix International Speedway. We were picking up our tickets at Will Call, when I overheard this conversation in the line next to me. The young man was speaking to the ticket-seller. He said, “I also need to get a parking pass because I’m illegally parked. The parking attendant told me she couldn’t give me the parking pass, but that I needed to get it from you. Isn’t that redundant?” Nope, I thought to myself. It certainly isn’t redundant (which means no longer needed or superfluous). It’s counter-productive, certainly. And quite a stupid system, undoubtedly. I don’t blame you for being annoyed. But it’s not redundant. I think someone recently learned a new word.
Bill has not had very many projects during our entire time in AZ this season. And let me tell you, the man does not like to be bored. So maybe four or five weeks ago, he went to our closet and pulled out a puzzle that had been sitting there for several years unopened. The reason it was unopened was that it simply looked too flipping difficult to me. I absolutely love puzzles, but I don’t want them to be so challenging that it takes forever between finding pieces that fit. So while I started out helping him – in fact, I did a lot of the border – I soon lost interest. He plowed on, however. He spent literally hours over that puzzle, which was a beautiful picture of Portofino, Italy. Finally, Tuesday evening, he let out a yelp. Done! It is pretty, but soon will be taken apart, put away in the box, and sent to Goodwill for some other sap to work on….
Professor Plum in the Library with a Candlestick
The last week or so, I have been doing my exercise outdoors, walking around nearby Red Mountain Park. I really like the park, and the path meanders around a pretty lake. There are always lots of geese and ducks and bunnies and lizards. The signs warn me about scorpions and rattlesnakes too, but I don’t veer from the path, so I feel pretty safe. Monday, when Bill and I walked, I noticed an area of the sidewalk that was splattered with blood. As we walked further, I saw occasional drippings of blood until finally, the drippings stopped. I didn’t say anything the first time I saw it, but since we walk around three times, the second time I mentioned it to Bill. He looked at it and confirmed that it was, indeed, blood. Being an avid murder mystery reader, I immediately began thinking about just who had been bludgeoned and when it had happened. Being much more realistic, Bill suggested to me that it was very likely a bunny who was murdered by a coyote and carried off to be eaten. Boring…..
On a brighter note, the jacaranda trees are in bloom, and I simply LOVE the bright purple flowers that come out in Spring…..
With all of the focus these days on women’s rights and how the glass ceiling is still very much there and Facebook is one of the most serious offenders, blah blah blah, it is with great amusement that I noted that there is no longer Take Your Daughter to Work Day. It is now Take Your Child to Work Day. My recollection was that Take Your Daughter to Work Day was created so that young girls could see that they could work anywhere they wanted. Evidently political correctness got the best of us. Maybe some 8-year-old boy filed a suit because he didn’t get a day off school to go to work with Mom or Dad. Anyway, Kaiya and Mylee got a day off of school and went to work with their daddy on Take Your Child to Work Day. They got to see first-hand just what it is their father does for a living. Now, if they could just explain it to me……