Now it's time to prove that you've come back here to rebuild...

"...Rebuild. Rebuild. Rebuild." Thank you Steven Page.

I was listening to some talk radio show this morning and they were going off on Bush's rebuilding plans for New Orleans and the entire Northern Gulf region. So the man says "let's rebuild her and make her better" and people are pissed because it will cost money and its stupid because it's only going to happen again and blah blah blah.

Well, of course it is. But honestly, what did anyone on this planet expect the man to get up and say?

If he had gotten up there and stood in front of the spooky building and statue with all the still, steady, quiet lighting and said "Ya know what, let's not rebuild it. Let's just leave it and relocate everyone to away, and make a memorial to mother nature, God, and the awesome power of poor planning," people would be screaming that he's a racist and if they were mostly white people houses and whatnot that were damaged he'd be all about rebuilding and blah blah blah.

He may be a monkey-faced asshole, but the guy just can't catch a break. Jeesh. I so wouldn't want his job.

Everyone's got an opinion as to why things should be done one way and not another. When things are done to the tune that someone doesn't like there is all this bitching and grousing and complaining the likes that no one should have to put up with. And dimes to freaking donuts their plan, the one that isn't being implemented, would just piss off an equal amount of people who would ride the B&M railroad right to its terminus.

Oh shut the hell up everybody.

Rebuild the area, but make it better please. Put some damn money into the friggin' levee system. Stop building ANY houses or business be they black/white/hispanic/whatever under the damn freaking sea level and just DO something for fuck's sake. And do it now.

Oh man. I'm so pissed off about this posturing, griping, fingerpointing and whinging. I'm done with it.

---

Today we're going to see my parents' new place. I think we're leaving here at 2, driving the 2 hours down there (dude, I thought Massachusetts was a small state!) and I think we're going to have an early dinner with them.

Right now I'm all about getting some dishes and laundry done. We have a lot of sloth that we need to take care of, and the more I think about the mess my home is in the more I'm simply paralyzed and do absolutely nothing.

I'm not sure I'd be an effective leader in cleaning up the wreckage of some major metropolitan city if I can't clean my own house.

---

Haven't heard from Aaron yet in his cross-country trip. I called his mom yesterday and he's at his brother's house in Washington State or Oregon or wherever that is. I think this weekend he drives out three hours or whatever it takes to get to his new job and home. I wish him well. I would love to hear from him but I know he'll call us in his due time.

The Life That Ate My Blog

This is yet another week that seems to have exploded on top of my head. I went to start an entry on Tuesday but someone needed to do some stupid homework research paper. So I let her... rather than have her get a big fat F on her homework or something. And last night I worked until very late, came home, ate and watched two hours of Mythbusters.

This morning, I was all about the update. I didn't have to rush to get ready for work because I had a 9am dentist appointment. But after putting Geoff on the bus I realized that holy crap -- there wasn't a clean dish in the entire house! So I did dishes, then I showered, then I paid some bills and was five minutes late to the dentist.

I tried to write a little while eating my lunch, to email an entry to myself to refine here... but that didn't happen. I ate my lunch over a two hour period, ending up with half of it uneaten and back in the fridge to save for another day.

Mornings are all about getting the boy ready and doing homework with him. We're back into our routine from last year. So far his school year is going okay, and for that I am thankful.

Top all of that life stuff off with the fact that I just have nothing truly important to say and we find ourselves in a quandary of sorts. If there's nothing really to say, why sit down and like ... blab?

Well there is stuff going on. We met with the financial panther (which, in addition to being a really funny Simpsons reference is also some sort of cool looking band ) and are starting to figure out how to put money away for the kids for college. He did some math for us and found we could and should be saving close to 2000 a month. He asked where the 2000 a month was going and both Doug and I couldn't figure out what the deal was.

We're not good with money.

I know I'm spending a lot of it on Starbucks. And lunch out. So I plan on cutting back on both of those. And then we can put some money away. And she can go to something other than a community college and we won't have to borrow a bazillion dollars to send her, just a gazillion.

My parents are beginning their big move this weekend. They'll be coming up with boxes of stuff and I think that towards the beginning weeks of October they'll be using a moving company to get the rest of the stuff up to their new place. It occurred to me today that they won't be using their old phone number anymore. I was very sad when the area code changed from 516 to 631. But this is more of a bummer. I love their phone number and I'll be sad to lose it.

How petty of me.

---

Because I'm not full of anything supremely interesting, I will leave you with this.

I love a good sandwich.

I like bread that doesn't have too hard a crust on it. Crust is okay so long as it doesn't gouge my gums and the roof of my mouth. Seeds in the bread are okay too. French bread or french rolls bore the hell out of me. I enjoy a hearty, soulful bread with lots of grainy goodness.

I enjoy cheese with tomato against it, especially when it's been wrapped nicely and sitting together for a little while. I enjoy sprouts on my sandwich, and even cucumber if it is sliced very thin. Too much stuff on a sandwich is messy, and should be avoided because let's face it, then it becomes a salad with some sliced meat on top because it flops out of the bread and back upon the plate. You may as well just eat a salad.

Right. Anyone agree or disagree? Use the comments to discuss. Thanks for reading and stopping by.

Where did my weekend go???

Oh my God, what just happened? The weekend? Where is it? Where did it go? It was right here ... and. Heavens. I do believe I squandered it.

This weekend, we stayed home, and we did next to nothing. I mean the adventure outdoors fun stuff kinds of things didn't get done. Some dishes did. And some laundry. Oh and Doug mowed the lawn. Aside from that... I think I slept, read, and watched football.

And this is a crying shame, because this weekend was one of the most gorgeous ever. But we didn't enjoy it with gusto. Sigh. What a waste.

Now I have to go back to work and feel cheated. Where was my fun? It sat there waiting for me. Why didn't I embrace it and grab it and run with it? I am a durn fool. That's why.

Enough crying. I got what I paid for. It's my own fault.

"Hello Allis!" - Camping at Allis State Park Vermont

I did embrace the updating there pretty good for a while. This week just totally got away from me, and I found myself very not wanting to type and write. So instead I built Flickr.com sets.

One is from this past weekend's camping trip, which I shall write about here. The other I did for Aaron. He doesn't have Flickr, nor does he have internet access at the moment. I found his old pictures from his Antarctica and New Zealand trip and posted them for him so he can show people when he gets to Washington State. More on that later.

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So yeah. Camping. Saturday morning Doug, Geoff and I went to Vermont with the dogs and went to Allis State Park in Randolph, just south of Norwich and Barre. It is a really cool place, very beautiful campsites all spread out apart from each other. I'll defiantly go back there.

We set up our camp, did some hiking, and settled down for the night. We were looking at the stars and admiring the fact that even with the lantern and the fire we could see the milky way. I looked down at my book for a minute, looked back up at the stars and didn't see them at all.

"Hmmm. That's funny, the stars vanished. I wonder wh-"

splat, drip, deluge. Crap! The sky opened up. We scrambled to cover stuff, threw the dogs in the tent, grabbed our books and jumped in ourselves. It was pouring like I've never seen before. We were saturated in less than a minute and now we had two sopping wet dogs in the tent with us too; two dogs who didn't get a chance to go for their night time walkies. Great.

I had to use my shirt to wipe up the tent floor where the flap was open and we were jumping in. So my shirt took one for the team. Luckily my fleece was on my sleeping bag or I would have been topless until further notice (with Geoff in the tent, that is no fun. Otherwise... you know).

I sat awake until it let up, ran out to the truck for a dry shirt, and took the dogs for their walk. I then had visions of water leaking into the tent all night based on our Mt. Blue camping experience and cursed my husband because he said "eh, it's not gonna rain this weekend."

I cursed the campground because there weren't any good trees for us to tarp onto in order to cover the tent to prevent something like this (that was my plan) from happening. I cursed myself for not being able to go to sleep. I was exhausted from our hike earlier in the day but constantly fearful that in the night, without my diligent eye, the tent would leak like a sieve, we'd be soaked and wake up swimming. Everyone else slept great.

---

Sunday morning dawned grey and gloomy and I thought for sure it was going to rain like a bastard on us all weekend. We went up to Barre to go shopping and geocache, drove on some insane dirt roads and backed out of a few because we didn't want a repeat performance of the truck getting stuck the way we did in Maine the weekend before.

That's just embarrassing.

By about 3 in the afternoon the gloom cleared and we had nothing but gorgeous blue Vermont skies with giant marshmallow clouds and soft wispy breezes to keep us company. It was perfect. That night was also perfect, and we had a raging campfire under the same stars, only this time they didn't vanish behind the deluge.

---

Monday was awesome. More unbelievably perfect weather. We took our time striking camp, because the park was closing. It wasn't like anyone needed to be in our space that night so the ranger totally relaxed on us and we left an hour after check out. We geocached around Randolph, and up into Roxbury, and then went to Texas Falls in the Green Mountain National Forest. The waterfall wasn't going very fast, and unlike the waterfall of our Maine Weekend, there were signs everywhere forbidding anyone to step in and take a dip. No swimming, no walking here, no touching that, no this, no that. The difference between National Forest and state park is incredibly noticeable.

We had a really nice picnic, and got home around 8pm. It was a lot of fun, and I'm incredibly sorry to see summer dwindling to a close around me. I need like two more nice sunny cool weekends with a totally worry-proof tent, and then I'll feel that 2005 summer can gracefully exit stage left.

---

Aaron came and stayed with us on Wednesday. It seems that for right now he and Michelle are going to be splitting up. Which sucks. For them indeed, but totally for me because they are all my fun in the whole world.

He's taken a job in Washington State with the Forest Service (the same people who say no to swimming in the waterfall in Vermont). She'll stay in Maine.

I can't really address the details of what is going on with them here, but I'm really sad for them. I've always loved them individually and as a couple. They've been the most steadfast friends we've had for over a decade. I'm hoping to not lose contact with either of them, and wonder what the future holds for them.

In the meantime, if you pray, please pray for his safety and happiness as he goes West to Washington to the National Forests to patrol by motorcycle and ATV. And pray for Michelle to find solace and happiness in her life. That's about it.

It was really nice having Aaron visit, and say bye to the kids, moreso than to say bye to us... He went to the bus stop with me when I took Geoff up. He could have spent time packing his bike, but he knows. He knows that he is Geoff's hero and that Geoff isn't going to see him for quite a long time.

So yeah. Sad here. Geoff is taking it well, but I know in mid-October he's going to say "I want to go see Aaron, and go to his house and go hiking and play with his dog..." and honey, that just ain't happening again. Aaron's not there. Michelle is, but I don't know if she'll want a house full of us without Aaron there. It's kind of weird.

---

This weekend is football weekend. And in years past every time I've written about how much I love football and cannot WAIT for the season to start, something horrible happens. September 10, 2001 I wrote a big big thing about how football is the single greatest thing in the universe and then we all know what happened September 11th. So I won't jinx us. Football is nice. I'm happy it's back. Let's leave it at that.

As for the whole Katrina mess, I have a lot of thoughts and opinions and feelings, but really feel it's all been said and shared elsewhere. I just am tired of the talk and the pundits and the blame and the fingerpointing. I'm weary... and just wish for all of this to someday be behind us all as a nation. It sucks.

I will say that there is nothing cooler than a surprise gift in the mail. I got home from work one day this week and ETS had mailed me a CD of the Young Dubliners. I haven't had time to pop it into the CD player in my car (it is in the trunk and it's a bitch to take out and yadda yadda so I want to listen to it in the truck), but I'm longing to do that. It gave me such a laugh to get real mail. How sad is that.

Alright -- there's your update. Thrilling. Sorry it took so long for those of you who were worried. I'm just a bit befuddled and occupied. Embracing the updating will be something that happens more frequently, I'm sure. In the meantime, go enjoy pictures.

"What the Hell?!"

I was watching Fox News while folding laundry and getting ready for our camping trip. Night was descending on New Orleans and the reporters in the field are increasingly frustrated. Geraldo Rivera is stationed at the convention center, and I am witnessing a man as he is quickly becoming unglued.

He had tears running down his cheeks as he was holding someone's 10 month old baby, a baby who probably hasn't had a diaper change in 2 days. He was freaking out about how people there are being ignored and were dying. Tourists and guests at the W hotel were put into the front of the line to get out of town days ago, and the residents of New Orleans are all still there. Stranded. Food and water by the truckload has been coming in to the Superdome and other places but the Convention Center is under lockdown for some reason. No one can even walk away to go somewhere else, to strike out on his or her own... and they are dying there and on the highway above.

Geraldo was screaming at the camera, screaming to anyone who will listen, "Why won't they let the people leave, just walk away from here. Go and find food and water. Why are they being held? Why won't they let those who can go. WHAT THE HELL!!!!"

As the sun is failing, so is his composure. Shutting down, turning dark, and coming undone.

They interviewed Shepard Smith, who is standing on the bridge above the Convention Center, and he said the same thing. He responded to Geraldo's "What the hell!" with the fact that a checkpoint is on the end of the bridge preventing anyone from leaving. Convoy trucks were driving behind him, passing the hundreds of people camped out on the bridge. Not stopping. Most likely filled with supplies, but not for these people on the overpass or underneath at the Convention Tomb.

I had to walk away. I had a bad feeling that it was going to be a very bad night in New Orleans.

---

Geoff asked me yesterday "If they rebuild New Orleans, will they name it New New Orleans?" And I thought of New New York on Futurama and had to laugh in spite of my feelings. Thank you Matt Groening. I have no idea what they'll name it or even if they should rebuild it. Not that it isn't worth it, but can we afford to go through this again?

---

I wrote the rest of this entry before I wrote the above. It has a more jolly sense to it, and it is about camping and having fun and being stinky willingly. Upon reflection, I was going to delete it, but it just shows that I'm going through some mood swings and really should not be watching Geraldo Rivera freaking out.

Indeed, Geraldo. What the hell indeed? God save us all.

---

Allis, Here We Come!

We cannot check in until 2pm. Google Maps tells me this trip should take just under four hours. We gassed up last night, before the prices rise yet again this morning. I think we're going to go and buy a French press for coffee... if we can find one. The coffee singles by Maxwell House just do not provide enough life-lifting elixir for my liking. I'd also like an air mattress and a new tarp. So a visit to Sprawl-Mart or Target may bring me all my camping desires.

I'm not high maintenance or anything.

A lot of my gal readers may be totally skeeved out, but I can honestly forego showering for a couple of days. Ewww! I know! How French of me. Seriously though, I am in touch with my inner caveman. I can shower Saturday morning and be perfectly happy not showering until I get home on Monday night. I will get good and sweaty and hikey and muddy and stinky on Saturday, maybe get a swim in some sort of aneurysm inducing freezing pond or waterfall, and be perfectly happy sitting around in my own filth that night. And I'll do it again on Sunday... and then Monday, perhaps a shower before the drive out just so my truck doesn't smell too assy by Tuesday morning.

Yeah, baby. That's what camping is all about. Releasing all those inhibitions. My hands and face will be clean. I'll have a hat on to hide my scary Medusa locks. Cleanliness in other regions of the body won't be that important to me. I'm free from the Health and Beauty slavery for a few days... not that I'm much of a slave to it in the first place.

---

We're going farther up into the north of Vermont than I would have liked. It was one of the very few within a four hour drive that had space. We could have gone somewhere with "primitive" facilities out in Western MA but Doug didn't book it on Thursday night when we were shopping for places -- thank Gord. I may be low maintenance but I prefer not to use an outhouse shitter this late in the season, if you know what I mean.

I was incredibly happy to score this spot after trying all the southern Vermont tier campgrounds. The staff member I spoke with was incredibly friendly and nice, we joked around about how Massachusetts people drive right over the border and just plop down. He said they were remote and he always has space. I told him I didn't want to camp a mile away from I-89, that remote sounded damn good to me... so he said "Alright! Rock on."

Any state employee who says Rock On is a friend of mine.

---

Jessica is not coming with us. She was invited to go RV camping (aka FAKE camping) with her friend Courtney and family. For someone who hates going camping so damn much she sure was eager to go with someone with an RV. I'm going to miss her horribly because even though she is reluctant she can be helpful. She sleeps in the truck with the dogs, which means this time the dogs will have to be in the tent with us... and that could prove a tad over cozy. Maybe I'll pass on that air mattress after all... hmmm.

We dropped her off and Geoff was PISSED that she was going RV camping. He made me miserable for three hours in the afternoon yesterday bitching and moaning about sleeping on the ground and in a tent and not having an RV and they have a cool RV and why can't we have an RV.

I was ready to put him under the RV. Just drive back over there and say "Hey, Lyle... back up over this lump wouldya?"

I don't want an RV. I don't see the point in getting back to nature in a building that I drive to nature in. I don't see the point in getting 3 miles to the gallon. It's bad enough I get 17 in the truck. I think getting away from the four wall rectangle or square concept is important once in a while. I'm not saying I'd like to live in a geodesic dome or anything, but I'm all set in breaking free from the modern constraints for a while.

Like a week, but with a shower in the middle. Like I said, I'm not high maintenance.

---

So. This is it. We're off. Allis, here we come. Hopefully I'll have some stupendous SUNNY pictures for you and none of this freezing cold rain crap that I've had to put up with lately. Whatever you're doing this weekend, be happy and safe. Or else my sweaty armpit is gonna gitcha on Monday night!

I hate you Walt Freakin' Whitman...

I knew someday I would be. Someone picked up on one of our Flickr.com pictures and featured it in their journal. RadioOpenSource used (with permission) our Doug doing Homer Simpson imitation for their latest piece on Walt Whitman. Click here to read, and to listen if you want to. Now, our ongoing passion regarding all things Simpson and the fact I grew up in Huntington has FINALLY paid off! Wooo!

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Today I am working from home. I have spreadsheets, floorplans and tons of stuff to do. Finalizing yet another chain for installation. I like having this opportunity to be at home... especially when unleaded gas is $3.29 a gallon. I can't find it any cheaper in our direct neighborhood. And it seems to be totally arbitrary. One station is $3.29 and across the street is $3.50. Who decides? Why the huge difference? Does a back rub and foot massage come with the $3.50 because I tell you what -- it should!

I'm disgusted with what is happening in New Orleans... I'm so sad for the people there and the painfully slow response FEMA and other agencies are exhibiting. I was listening to the mayor of NO on the radio this morning blaming everyone but his own administration for the chaos. No blaming the cops who themselves are looting, no blaming of anyone in his administration for not providing transport out of town for those lacking. The president's response is uninspiring. Politicians continue their vacation instead of running back to the capitol where they belong to work on things...

This is serious down there people! The fact that families on high ground are taking in people because there is nowhere else for them to be shows me that you can indeed rely on the kindness of strangers, but it seems to me like the folks who are supposed to spring to action are standing there numb. "Hurmmn. Will ya look at that. Jeezh, that's a mess." Um, yeah...

We're going camping again. We're leaving tomorrow. I need to get to work again, having worked a bit this morning and now am waiting for the batteries on the laptop to recharge. I made reservations for us at Allis State Park in Vermont... Hopefully we'll stay dry this weekend.

Oh -- and I love Amy's quote on the sidebar there. It somehow makes me think of Stewie Griffin. "Damn you Starbucks!" Heh.

When the Levee Breaks...

One of the few Led Zeppelin songs that I am still able to listen to after years of aural saturation over the airwaves is one that is running through my head. It is a bluesy, gutsy standard with a fuzz-driven angry guitar riff. The "mean ole levee" taught an entire city, region, and most of the country to weep and moan. And I can hear Jimmy Page's haunting finger work ringing through the back of my mind.

---

We had no idea while we were camping that the hurricane even hit the gulf coast. We figured it would, and would be a category two at best. We had no clue that it trucked up its force and blew into the monster it became. While driving home on Monday, we listened to CDs because radio through Maine is usually the suck.

We were in the dark.

Monday night it seemed as if everything was a mess in Mississippi but New Orleans was spared. We talked about how when someone is given the evacuation order, one obeys it... and the concept of "riding out" the storm when you live in a place that is feet below sea level is just wrong.

New Orleans was fine. Her residents were fine. Then the levee gave way, and another, and now. We watch what life below sea level can really be all about. It didn't matter that the hurricane hit harder a little bit to the east. New Orleans is a mess.

Folks didn't leave because no one takes the media seriously anymore when EVERY little thing is an "Alert!" Ooh! Fox News ALERT! (insert news swishy noise and big red graphic) Natalee Holloway still missing! Alert! CNN big scary red graphic, it's going to snow! AAAAAH.

And then, no snow falls. At all. Or the hurricane doesn't hit you. At all. I've joked here over the last few years about Category Four Kill Storms and the media coverage leading to complete and total devastation... in the grocery store aisles.

For as ignorant and stubborn as people can be sometimes, I blame the media for fueling complacency by making news Extra! Dramatic! And! Life! Destroying! At! Every! Turn!

Around here, they are constantly giving us "news" stories about things that could have been. Here is a bridge. It fell in the middle of the night. But millions could have been KILLED if it happened a few hours later. LUCKILY No One Was Hurt. But it Could Have Been Worse!

---

I think the residents of New Orleans who stayed behind and ignored evacuation orders were probably residents of the projects with no vehicles. It is hard to evacuate when you have no transportation. Initially I was angry that someone would stay behind, but then I realized that a lot of people maybe had no choice, and weren't given an option. Or, they went where they were told to go -- The Superdome. And they're there today as the waters rise around that structure as well, and the toilets fill, and the trash stinks, and there is no potable water and no relief from the heat.

I think it was on the O'Reilly Factor (forgive me for watching) where some man was on last night talking about how the levees were constructed to withstand a Category 3 hurricane.

Bill O'Reilly said "Wait a minute. You said to withstand a Category 3??? You know there are two categories above that ... why not build a levee to withstand a category 20 hurricane? Why stop at 3?"

The man said "Yeah. I wish we had invested the money then..."

Eventually, you pay for it. And we're seeing that now.

---

My heart is breaking for babies and small children who are going to die from diseased water and germs floating in the air. My heart breaks for the elderly. But I'm also angered that people are just sitting there.

Doug and I talked about it, and if I were there, I honestly believe I'd start walking to Jackson Mississippi, or Houston. Or Atlanta. I'd leave. I don't think I'd sit there and just wait for someone to come get me and take me somewhere. Unless I had the physical incapabilities of old age, handicap, or injury.

If all I had was lost anyway. I would just walk away.

I have never been to New Orleans. I've not really desired a visit there... there are lots of other places I'd rather pitch my tent and spend my touristy dollars. At this point, I personally think it is foolish to rebuild there, but the port is where 1/3 of all imported items from South America enter this country, and it is a vital location to our country's commerce and survival.

There's nothing else to say other than I wish them well in whatever plan comes next, that I send my financial support, and that I hope good and wise decisions are made. Like building levees to withstand a category 90 hurricane.

In the meantime, I'm off to work. My commute is killing my wallet. We filled the truck up with gas. One station was charging $3.29 for unleaded. It is totally arbitrary on the gas station's part... One station is $2.99 and another is three fiddy. There is no standard, there is supply, demand, and taking advantage. I may ask to telecommute a couple days a week until a lot of this blows over. Public transport is not an option from where I live to where I work. I figured out it would take me 90 minutes or more to go 27 miles... So hopefully my company can work with me a little bit over here. We shall see.

The Big Butt Joey Revival Tour

The truck is packed. We're driving up the highway. Doug is scanning the radio dials for tunes and comes across a BonJovi song.

I sometimes have a hard time hearing people. I'm known to mishear stuff all the time. This is a very well established fact. Things are sometimes hard to hear, especially in the truck, with the noise, the road, the stereo, the everything. I could have sworn I heard Doug say:

"There must be some Big Butt Joey Revival going on or something, maybe he's going on tour... they're playing a lot of him on the radio lately."

And I'm thinking "Who the hell is Big Butt Joey?"

He said "Big BonJovi revival going on..." I started to laugh. And I could not stop laughing. I had to explain to Doug and Jessica what it was I thought I heard. We decided there and then that Big Butt Joey would not be forgotten. He would have his revival. And this entry is dedicated to him. Nothing but love, Big Butt Joey. Nothing but love.

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We should have left Friday night. We would have had more dry time. This weekend was fun, but it was just plain rainy and drizzly. Meh!

We dragged our feet on Saturday, got up there around 3pm... set up camp and got all organized. We were waiting for Aaron to come, and decided to go to the lake to look around. When we came back, Aaron was there, tent all set up, life was good. We built a fire, made a dinner, kicked it into hanging out gear. A crashed early and went to bed. Doug and I enjoyed looking up at the small opening above our heads at the stars. We should have gone to the lake to see the sky. That was the last open sky we would see for over 24 hours.

Saturday morning dawned very grey and humid. Not hot, but moist... gross kind of. I took Geoff down to the lake for a swim, and it was unbelievably cold in the water. That doesn't stop him. I went out to my waist (well, the middle of my body because let's be honest kids, I don't HAVE a waist in the traditional sense...) and I stood there for a long time shivering. I just couldn't commit to the dunk. I tried. Really hard. There was no real big drop off -- the swimming area goes out quite a ways and doesn't get deeper than 5 feet.

Eventually Geoff ended up splashing me while showing me his mad swimming skills, so I dunked and felt my heart explode and my brain shoot out of my eyesockets. Damn. It was frickin' freezin' in there people.

But before I knew it, I was acclimated and comfortable and had a blast swimming with Geoff. We were there around an hour. And then I figured we'd best go find out what the men had planned. We discussed, and decided, and the men pitched the tarp to keep the table and stuff left behind dry. Because it totally looked like rain.

We went Geocaching up on Center Hill in the park, and while we were there it started raining. The air could no longer hold all that moisture. We ate cookies in the car and drove to the next cache, hoping that the rain would let up. On the GPS, there was this road... it went straight to where we wanted to go. So Doug went to take it.

The road was paved for about 10 feet, then turned into a dirt road, and Doug was going about 35 when he SLAMMED on the brakes, scaring the shit out of me and the kids because we couldn't see why...

The road ended, and dropped off about three to four feet down. Then the road looked like a hiking trail... not a road. Holy shite. We just avoided major damage and possible airbag deployment. We just avoided becoming the General Lee, with Doug and Aaron playing Bo and Luke. We so would have been airborne completely. But.

We were stuck. Freakin' horribly stuck.

And it was pouring out. Aaron and Doug tried to push the truck while I rocked her, but it wasn't going anywhere. We debated going forward but at the angle where the road dropped, we'd probably bust our transmission as the truck bottomed out. Not cool.

Aaron got a neighbor two doors up from the end, and he pulled us out. He said it's a real road, and we could have driven it, but thought it would be better to pull us out with the rain and all. Kudos to him. And he had Bush stickers on his car, so one can honestly say that not all Republicans suck ass.

I've said it before and I'll say it again -- I love our truck. But she isn't All Wheel or even 4x4. We need a different vehicle for our crazy off-road lifestyle.

We tried to give the man cookies -- but he let us keep them. Good for us. We were free -- and soaking wet. We went to the waterfall.

---

Smalls Falls is located up Rte 4 from where we were camping. There are two caches there, and a really nice rest area to park the vehicle in. We COULD have driven to the road up above the falls, and did do that for a few minutes, but then decided getting stuck out there where there were no kind neighborly types... that would super suck.

We parked in the rest area, climbed up the trail to the top of the falls. Aaron went in first and Geoff followed. I figured I'd go with and keep an eye on Geoff while Aaron did some things that I didn't think Geoff should be doing.

If I thought the lake water was cold, I was totally wrong. This water -- this was cold. Unbelievably. My feet were instantly numb, my legs, knees and thighs again -- totally blue and numb. It took me forever to commit to the dunk, but eventually I did, and my eyeballs exploded and my lungs imploded. Damn, it was cold.

But once I was acclimated...

We had a great time there. Doug scored the cache, and we had a great lunch.

At this point, it was pouring out. We headed back to the camp to relocate the tarp so we could plant ass in front of the fire, and I discovered that our tent was seeping liquid. It has held against the rain spectacularly in the past -- why it decided to seep on Sunday was beyond me. The floor was wet, and it was wet where the door was and the window. It was the suck.

I ran all through the tent moving stuff to the center and drying the floor and corners. Aaron took Geoff fishing, Doug collected firewood. I was cursing the tarp set up, because we should have tarped over the tent. But in all our years of camping THAT has never been a necessity.

We either invest in a new tent or start tarping, the way I see it.

Anyway -- The rain let up around 7:30, and we enjoyed a huge assed fire and dinner. The tent was drier than before, but still kind of moist. I left all the flaps open to the air... inside the tent was hot even though the air outside was cool. I hoped that some of the moisture would evaporate and things would get more cozy.

Then, around 4am, the rain resumed. We had taken the tarp down because stars were out... what a bad decision. Stuff left out on the table was now soaked. Nothing was ruined... but my hat was out there. And our swimming towels. Oy. Bad planning dudes. Where is Big Butt Joey when you need him!

I was then totally paranoid about the rain. I sat up, checking surfaces, closing flaps, using a T-shirt to wipe moisture up where it was coming in. Shaking my fist at the sky.

Around 6am I finally fell back asleep. Geoff woke up shortly thereafter. I was up. That was that.

We had breakfast, retarped and dried the site the best we could. We took showers and hit the road before noon.

Around Augusta, the skies cleared. It was 81 degrees. Not quite sunny, but sure as hell not pouring.

I was so pissed. Stupid spooty weather.

We approached our town, and the skies were kind of ominous. I looked at them and laughingly said to Doug "You just watch, the minute we get home and start unpacking the truck the sky is gonna open up on us. I guarantee it."

And sure enough. Right when we got home. Zing. Rain. Gah.

---

This experience would scare off most. I think we may camp for Labor Day weekend next weekend, if we can get a reservation somewhere. I was totally stressed by the rain, the tent, the moistness. But at least it wasn't cold. I slept in a T-shirt, and was perfectly comfy temperature wise. There is nothing worse than camping and being cold... I hate that shit. So the forecast for next weekend is clear and beautiful, but we'll see what Katrina's remnants have to say about that when Friday comes.

Anyway. We're home. I'm glad. There's a flickr.com photo set that goes with this weekend, if you want to go view it. I only got one license plate because my husband drives too flipping FAST and my camera zoom so doesn't work at all. That was the suck. We passed Montana, Oregon, Wisconsin, Ontario, Nova Scotia, Indiana, Illinois, Oklahoma... countless others. And I have NO photographic proof for my gallery. Pfth.

I'm glad to be home.

Busted playing license plate bingo.... Alabama!

I suppose I have to update or you may not hear from me at all until Tuesday. We're going camping, leaving in the morning. I'm dreading the folding and sorting of the 99 loads of laundry on my couch, so relaxing with my reads and firing off a quick one to keep you happy, all five of you, is all I'm going to have time for tonight.

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Work was really slow and quiet this week. I ran out of stuff for Amy to do. I could have had her come in EVERY day and do my job while I sat there and did diddly squat, but something about that made my Protestant Work Ethic do a creepy unsavory shiver, and I thought it best if I let her know her services were well loved but not needed.

Funny how work can be feast or famine sometimes.

---

I managed to score a few more of those license plates for my flickr.com set. I got Minnesota and Tennessee the other day, and while driving home today there was some sort of really super fancy car parked on the side of the road with Alabama plates.

I was like "Ho, no way!" and pulled over, ran back with my camera and took the plate's picture. Geoff was standing with me and we were looking at the "Heart of Dixie" detail little heart up above the 'a' at the end...

Just as a guy was coming down the street, the owner -- talking on his cell phone.

"Is there anything wrong?" he asked me as I gasped. Eeep. I'm busted!

"Is this your car?" I pointed to its luxurious, sleek, black exterior. He nodded. I smiled and said "We're playing License Plate Bingo."

Luckily Geoff was standing right next to me, reading the "Stars fall on..." bit at the top of the plate aloud. So it looked like a plausible excuse for a fat old lady to throw out there while crouched behind his super nice car.

"Are you winning?" he asked.

"I'm ... playing against myself." I admitted. "Thank you though, you're number 35. You have no idea how rare your plate is in these parts!" And he started laughing.

Whew. Crisis averted. But hey, huge score. Not some blurry assed picture taken as I zoom down the dang highway. But a nice, up close, shiny, with my body reflected in the chrome kind of picture. Just right. Hell yeah.

See the song lyric to the left and you'll totally understand me. As if you haven't figured it out already. Right?

I was going to write a screed about Pat Robertson, and how a preacher needs to be the mouthpiece of God and witness to the love of Jesus Christ. How he is becoming the moral equivalent of most insane Islamic clerics who call for all of us to be wiped out... and how I doubt Jesus would groove on that. Doug reminded me that Deitrich Bonhoffer called for the outright assassination of Adolf Hitler back in the 40s, and no one listened to him... so sometimes the mouthpiece of God says things that we don't necessarily want to hear said. No one would argue that Hitler was a bad assed motherfucker who should have probably been taken out by the Arm of the Lord, or any willing party, at some point before millions of people were killed in accordance to his vision.

Let's stop and think before we knee jerk react to the stupidity of Robertson's statements, and look into Hugo Chavez... a man I know nothing about but someone who perhaps requires some of our attention.

Before he grows into Hitler.

I still don't like when men of God call for killing one another, even if they may be right about the target of their desired bombing. I would like for men of God to call for feeding of children of all faiths, and building of lives. Instead of the destruction thereof. I think I prefer my assassinations to come from the hands of politically ideological governments, who hopefully operate without the name of Jesus flopping around in their mouths.

How 'bout you? What do you think? Comments are open.

And while that's not a screed, it certainly is a tad more interesting than "dang I have to fold the fricking LAUNDRY!" Which I must go do now.

The plan to move to Dover...

Yeah, I'm awesome. I got South Dakota on the way home from work last night. This after discussing my little game play with France, both of us agreeing that it would be near to impossible to get said plate. I wish Jessie had been with me, because I could have used a wingman to take the shot while I drove, and get a clearer picture. My camera cannot zoom in and focus anymore, so my shots are not coming out totally clear. I got Michigan and Washington (State) as well.

While they are indeed uploaded to Flickr and in the set, I'm unhappy with the quality of the pictures and am cursing my camera. But ... I may never get South Dakota again though. So it'll have to stay.

I also saw Ontario today while walking around Marblehead, but didn't have my camera with me. In town, I also saw Utah again, but already have it. And there were tons of NY cars for some reason. All the NY residents are in Marblehead today. Not sure why. And a bunch of Virginians. Oh, and Illinois and Indiana were coming the opposite direction in traffic, and I didn't get the camera on in time. So I lost out on them but saw them. Soon they will be mine!

And yes, I know I am certifiably insane.

Everyone needs a hobby though, right? I have 30 states and 1 Canadian Province. And I think I rule. Thank you very much.

---

No menacing wacko on the way home last night, but I did see him on the way to work. He looked right at me, going in the opposite direction, and POINTED at me.

I'm officially freaked out. He's a crazy bastard.

And then, of course, I get stuck behind a granny who isn't sure where she is. She made a left turn onto West Shore Drive in Marblehead, FROM THE GO STRAIGHT/NO LEFT TURN LANE. I knew she was going to do it too... I had been behind her for a good stretch, and she was all over the road, yielding where there is no yield, going through stop signs without stopping. Stopping AT a green light.

She was a Marbleheader, with yacht club sticker in her back window, but she was obviously confused. I ended up losing her when she pulled over somewhat in front of a driveway... after she almost sideswiped a car.

I really should have called the police on her... she's going to hurt someone one of these days (or minutes). I was just happy to get to the office in one piece.

---

My son cracks me up. He decided a while back that he was going to do the following:

"When I'm 22, I'm going to move out. I'm going to move to Dover Delaware and work at a Burger King. And I'll get a roommate to help me pay the rent, because I won't make that much money."

"I'll miss you," I say to him.

Today he decided that when he is 22 he's moving to Nantucket. And because they probably don't have a Burger King there, because rich people like NICE restaurants, he is going to be a chef or a policeman in Nantucket. And I am welcome to come visit him. "And so can Jessica, after she gets her Masters Degree. She'll be 26 by then. Almost 27. So she should have that finished by then."

He cracks me up. In 14 years, check in with me and see if he is in Dover or Nantucket, wouldya.

Alright -- I'm outta here. Got a lot to do just to get out the door this morning. Take it easy.