Off to Missouri!

Happy holiday, my friends. I'm heading to the family farm just north of Kansas City International Airport to visit my aunt & uncle and their daughter who is in from Atlanta for the weekend.

It's a normal "traveling day" for me -- not an early start like I always have dreamed of. Not packed. Not sure what clothes I have that are clean. It must be nice sometimes to have a plan for daily living. I've heard of such things and even pretended a time or two to try it out. But right now? I'm not fighting nature. Just rolling with the flow and trying to keep the stomach acids under control instead of stressing about my imperfections.

Hey. I'm old and getting older. I'm tired of constantly feeling guilty about these things. So here's my declaration of independence today:

I have dirty dishes. It's OK.
My laundry needs to be washed. It's OK.
I'm not packed. It's OK. It's just a two-night weekend trip.
I didn't start driving at 6 a.m. It's OK. I was asleep then.
I need to shower. It's OK. That's just a 10 minute task, more or less.
I do not drive straight through. I stop at almost every opportunity. It's OK. It's faster to stop than to have a disaster because I didn't.

I am a grownup. I am 53 years old now. I can make my own rules.

(On the positive side: I am leaving with my bed made and my car empty, instead of looking like a mobile trash dump. I might stop at the vacuum at the gas station and do a quick hit even. That would be nice.)

You have a HAPPY, independent and self-directed day today, you hear? See you when I get back!

OK, I feel better. Plus, I just have to tell you...

Thanks to those of you who commented on the previous post. Sorry for being a bit petulant this morning.

It's been one of my "peculiar" days. I honestly don't know if other people experience these type of events, but often I feel a synchronicity with the universe with odd events that really do all tie together. This is one of those days.

A week or so ago my best friend from childhood e-mailed to say she would be out of touch for awhile making a final visit to her mother, who was expected to pass within the week. I kept waiting for some news. This morning I saw it, in Sunday's paper -- her mother's obituary. Peggie died on Thursday; the funeral was in Missouri yesterday afternoon, but the graveside service is this afternoon here. Of course I will be there. I'm just so glad I happened to see the obit.

Now, my friend and I have shared some uncanny timing on other of life's milestones. Her dad died in July 1976. My dad died exactly a month later.

And, oddly, today is my dad's birthday. It doesn't surprise me in the least that Peggie's passing ties in in that same odd way.

After my dad died and my mother and brother were left alone to mourn in the family house (I was heading back to my last semester at OU), my friend and her fiance showed up at the house with an Irish setter named Barney. He was a stray, and my friend said "We just need a place for him to stay while we try to find the owner, before we take him to the pound." Yeah, my friend's not one bit stupid. She knew that dog was exactly what my mother needed. She spoiled and pampered that dog for the next 10 years or so.

And so, in serendipitous style a stealth dog followed a coworker and me back to the office after lunch. We don't know when the dog fell in with us; I just happened to notice her suddenly acting like "maybe they won't notice me if I just act like I'm one of the girls." Back at the office I found a large plastic bowl that I filled with cool water. She came to me and drank from my hand, then sat on my foot and lapped up a little more water. Then she laid down on my foot. She loves me.

She wandered off so that I could go on in to the office; she made friends in the back by the press room too. We called the local radio stations and animal control and described her in case an owner is looking for her. A while ago someone down the block called and asked animal control to pick her up so she wouldn't get hit by a car.

I think I'll be keeping an eye out on this sweetheart. If no one claims her I will bring her home with me. I think that's the way it's supposed to be.

Oh, by the way. She had on a leopard print collar edged in pink, but there were no tags. If you have an animal, PLEASE TAG THEM in case they get lost!

That's it.

I get called "stale" by Junior the Bear, my best bear buddy in blogdom. Nothing but a few responses on the past several posts, except from all the nice people who saw the award post.

People are busy. It's summer. No one has time. No one is interested in what's happening here.

Junior's right, I guess. Maybe I am stale from working 60+ hours a week and not having much going on outside of work. Maybe the dog days of summer are here. And here I am without a hound.

My best friend from childhood lost her mother last week and the graveside service will be here this afternoon. I know only accidentally because of spotting the obituary a day late. I'll be there this afternoon, though. Our homes were interchangeable as we grew up. From back door to back door took us about 23 seconds -- yes, we timed how long it took to run out the back, across the street and three houses down through the alley.

And I'm mourning again the loss of my young soldier a year ago. Derek was like a nephew to me and he was killed a year ago by and IED in Falujah. His funeral was July 3. This is yet another somber holiday.

I had hoped to start a local news blog but given that no one's reading this one, I see little point in launching a new venture at this point.

Maybe it's the humidity that's really got me down today. Or maybe it's this darn echo around here.

I promised you fire photos

Since I promised to post some of my fire photos, I've been unbelievably swamped. However, with the escape of the primary suspect, the fire remains newsworthy. Plus I'm just a little proud of the work we did reporting it, so if I have the chance to show off the photos again, I'll take it.

You'll have to click through for larger versions of the photos. Please let me know if you have any problems seeing them. I believe my photobucket is set for public access when you click on these. If that's not the case, let me know and I'll move a set to Flickr. I would just do that, but hey, that's more work than I want to do right now if I can avoid it. Yeah, I'm lazy. That's how I roll. PLEASE DO CLICKY BIGGY -- what you see on the front screen here is just a portion of the photo and doesn't well represent the shots. I need to work on that sometime when I can do some digging into the page construction.

Also -- it's a "Two-Fer" Wednesday. Please don't miss the post directly below this one for more news.

The news is still broken

Night before last the suspect in the lumberyard arson case escaped from the county jail He happened to follow the escape route left by another prisoner. This was the second escape in about a week for the second prisoner -- previously he was one of three who escaped and were recaptured at a motel about six blocks from my house. Upon the recapture of the three, they were returned to the jail in lieu of $1 million bonds.

The arson suspect was being held on many counts and his bond was $200,000 on the eight original charges in connection with that case. He had just bonded out on some other counts the day before the arson was committed, so the bond was revoked on those counts. In other words, both of these guys are SUPPOSED TO STAY in jail.

The day of the arson's suspects initial court appearance, I went to court to watch. I wanted to see this punk up close. It was a real family affair for him that day. The two juvenile accomplices had their closed hearings that morning. One of those was his 16-year-old brother.

His 24-year-old sister also was on the same docket on three or four counts of her own. They were brought to court separately and sat facing each other. Other family members came to the courtroom and attempted to sit near the two but the jail custodian stopped them and told them to get back and sit on the back row.

That day in court was a good day to watch justice in action, as another "frequent flyer" appeared on new charges on his long rap sheet. The previous weekend he had been involved in an arrest in which he tried to escape and physically assaulted an officer. A lot of stolen property was discovered in his 91-year-old grandmother's garden shed. Unfortunately, she refused to help officers with information and got to spend some time in the back of the police cruiser for that bad choice. Of course they later released her, but that punk should be ashamed for involving her in his hot mess.

Somehow one of my co-workers happened to make it to the scene with his camera while the fracas was going on and got photos of the struggle and then of the officer's scraped-up arms where he tackled the punk. There's one great photo which shows a muddy footprint on the top of the officer's shoulder where the punk tried stepping over him to run.

The arson suspect was recaptured last night about 6 p.m. while I was in a public hearing about a mile away. Now if they can locate the other jailbird who got out of the cage, I can breathe easier.

Speaking of the public hearing: The Oklahoma Department of Environmental Quality held a public hearing on the issuance of a permit to operate a leachate pond at the city landfill. This is a common practice and is a step in every single landfill project in the state. This is for the expansion of a cell at the landfill, which has been operating since 1977.

What makes this a difficult situation is that the landfill is located directly across the street from a tribal cemetery (Ponca tribe). It is also within 500 feet of the Salt Fork River, a tributary to the Arkansas River. The confluence of the two rivers is nearby.

The tribe originally approved an agreement with the city to allow the city to use the site of a former quarry as the landfill in 1977. They are saying now that the agreement was to restore the quarry to level ground.

Now, however, 30 years later, the landfill is a 30-foot mountain rising above the level of the surrounding land. And it is growing taller daily. The landfill has polluted the groundwater in the area as well as being an eyesore. The landfill continues to operate even when tribal funerals are taking place.

The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is doing a combined environmental health risk assessment on this area to study the various contributing factors which may be polluting this tribe's community. The landfill is one of a half-dozen or so contributing risks.

Sadly, the last full-blooded Ponca died in the last year to two years. His well was tested and was found to contain a laundry list of carcinogens. The river, which is a stone's throw from the cemetery, contains toxic metals and other chemical and has been shown to be unfishable. But the tribe is dependent on subsistence fishing from the river.

Members of the tribe spent about two hours presenting their comments to ODEQ last night and the record remains open for additional comments until July 18. Many referred to the landfill as "environmental genocide." They also challenged the Angelos, as they call us, to locate the landfill in the northeast quadrant of the city, which is in the 20 wealthiest zip codes in Oklahoma.

I didn't understand the full scope of the problem until after the meeting. My co-worker who has been a friend of the Poncas for years needed a ride home because he had a flat on his car (had to take a taxi to the meeting.) He asked if I was in a hurry or if I had time to run out and take a look at the site. I'm glad I agreed to go and got an honest look at the land. I'll have to go back with my own camera to show y'all the situation, but honest to God, the landfill is a disgrace to us all. Where once these people had an unfettered view of the prairie, that is now obliterated by this "monument" to garbage. You can get a real understanding of how threatening this is to the area, especially the river, and how this is crushing the culture and spirit from the Poncas.

Those who know the history of the Poncas' forced removal from Nebraska to north-central Oklahoma will understand why members of the tribe say that this is yet another example of the Seventh Calvary's attack on a sleeping peoples. The ancestors of this community were forced here on foot. Learn more by studying the history of chiefs Standing Bear and White Eagle.

And stay tuned. One thing certain about news is there's a new story every day. And because of that, I am pondering creating a new companion blog which will focus on the daily local news. More on that anon.

The Pursuit of Fun

Several things have converged over the past few days to get me thinking about the nature of "fun."

I've realized I can't quite honestly remember the last time I could say, in all certainty, that I was having fun. Not that I haven't -- surely we can't go for long periods of time without SOME fun, right? I hope. But I'm kind of caught up in figuring out the nature of FUN.

Is it something you can intentionally decide you're going to have? I have a blog friend who has made a resolution to have at least three minutes of fun a day. I get her point, and understand that we have to take care of ourselves and enjoy our lives. But man, is planning fun the way to do it? Is three minutes a day our daily minimum requirement of fun? And how pathetic are we as a species that we have to "work it in" to our daily lives?

Second, how do you recognize fun? Is fun a matter of laughing? Is it finding humor in the ordinary life around us? Is fun something more concrete and less esoteric than humor? Similar but different?

Is fun the absence of other things? For example, is it the absence of control by another? An absence of scheduled requirements, like working? A lack of pressure to achieve someone else's goals?

Is fun a matter of serendipity? Do we just stumble across it now and then like an elusive bird? Aha! There it is! Oops, no, now it's gone again.

Is fun an activity? Do you "have fun" in the same manner that you "make love"? If so, why do these things sound so much like work?

What do you consider fun? Is it something that generates from you, or do you find fun in the midst of others?

Is fun the same thing as relaxing? Can taking a nap be fun? Is reading fun? Or is there a set of prescribed activities that define fun?

What's fun for you? When was the last time you had fun? Do you have fun every day? Do you meet your daily minimum requirement of fun?

Is fun different than having a passion for an activity or interest? If you are passionate about your work, does that make it fun?

Tell me what you think! And ... have fun doing it!

Please pray

Please pray for our friend Frenzied Feline from Life Happens. Her family has received bad news on a couple of fronts involving cousins. I know your support, emotionally and spiritually, is needed now and will be appreciated. Thanks, friends.

What's been going on

The best thing that's happened recently is that Tech has awarded me the Arte y pico award, for “those who are creative or have a penchant for art.”
Tech received the award for his wonderful blog, 51313 Harbor Street. If you haven't visited Tech at his place, please do. He is an accomplished writer of novels, plays, poetry and blogs. He's also a great human being with a wonderful sense of humor and can say without reservation that my life has been enriched because of him and his blog.
I am humbled that he would nominate this blog for the Arte y pico award.

In return, I wish to nominate the following five blogs for the award:

Frenzied Feline at Life Happens (When You're Planning Something Else). I've "known" Frenzied for years through this great invention called the Internet. She is a whole-life artist and tells great stories about her family, life in California and her incredible church service. How she has the energy to do all of this, and do it so well, is an art in and of itself!


Ree at The Pioneer Woman. She has several blogs under the umbrella of her site. Ree is an incredible writer, photographer, cook, wife and mother of four children. Her blogs are outstanding works of art.

Alicia at Posie Gets Cozy. Alicia, I have to say that you have produced not only the most beautiful blog I've ever seen, but also the most beautiful life. Your incredible personal story, your creativity, your photography and writing -- heck, your whole beautiful life is the stuff from which my dreams are made. If I could wave my magic wand and have the life I dream of, it would be yours, living in Portland with a man like Andy and a precious doggie like Clover Meadow or her auntie Audrey, the beloved. Seriously, cheers to you and thank you so much for giving me the vision to believe that happiness can be created, even when life throws rocks.

Kuky at Kuky Ideas. Oh what a funny, loving woman! Her drawings/cartoons are sweet and funny and adorable and are the air I breathe some days. She's not posting as often right now, but I hope she can return soon. She is so creative and has such talent in so many areas. I'm glad I found her charming blog. You should all read it NOW. Just because it will make you feel happy to know people like Kuky are out there adding to the universal goodness.

Laurie at Crazy Aunt Purl. Another fabulous, funny writer; not only does she produce a hilarious blog about her life with her cats, but she's also recently published "Drunk, Divorced and Covered In Cat Hair, The True Life Misadventures of a 30-Something Who Learned to Knit After He Split." The book is funny, sad, heartbreaking and victorious, as is Laurie. I can remember when I first started reading her blog about her hand-knit hats. Now look at her, a star!


And here are the official award acceptance rules:

1. Pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also for contributing to the blogging community, no matter what language.
2. Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog.
3. Each award winner (upon acceptance) should show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award.
4. Show the link of Arte y pico blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.
5. Show these rules.

***

And now, back to my mundane life:


It seems like I've hardly had time to breathe since the fire I posted about previously. I hope to post some more photos of that in the next post just for your entertainment.
As it turns out, the fire was set. Three young men (the oldest is 18) were arrested in connection with this and a laundry list of other things that have been happening here. The fire is estimated to have caused $1 million to $2 million in damages and wiped out a business that has been there for almost 40 years.
The day after the fire I helped my minister and his wife move to Oklahoma City. Their U-Haul truck came from the business that burned. The plastic tag attached to the key was melted from the heat of the fire. It's fortunate the truck keys were in a separate storage building next to the business.
Sunday after the move, I played a piano concert between services at my church, the first in the new welcome center addition. The weather was extremely bad that morning with heavy rain and winds up to about 60 mph. Lo and behold, as I was getting ready to play, drip. Drip, drip! Right down my back and onto the piano from our brand new skylight. I moved the piano to an area without a skylight and notified the building committee so they can have that checked.
That afternoon I played in a handbell concert that was a fundraiser to help rebuild the music program of a United Methodist church in Newkirk, OK. Their church burned several months ago and all of their instruments and music burned. Their handbells melted. This will be a small step to helping them cope.
That Monday was an incredibly long city commissioners' meeting at which the city budget for the coming fiscal year was passed, as was a controversial spay-neuter ordinance that has been on the table for several years. This is probably the single most argued issue since I've been here.
Other highlights of the week were an arrest of an Israeli national by the Department of Homeland Security, the arrest of the suspects in the building center fire, a state historic preservation meeting held here.
Honestly, things have become a blur, there's been so much happening. Much of it wouldn't interest people outside of my town -- probably wouldn't interest everyone here, either. But what can I say? It keeps me off the street most of the time.
Weather has been rather harsh too, with flooding rains and high winds often.

But what about those hours when I'm not working? Well, I've made a mid-year resolution not to spend money on anything but the essentials -- utilities, food, gasoline for getting to and from work, and other absolute essentials. Here's my post from E.R.'s blog ( Erudite Redneck. He had asked how we were coping with increasing fuel costs.

I've had to limit my out-of-town trips because of fuel costs. And I'm seriously considering walking to work when weather and schedule permit or getting a bicycle.
I'm doing like you -- making the cuts from my food budget, intentionally not shopping or buying anything but necessities (even cutting back on some of those like medications because I just can't afford to refill scripts until payday.) I live 10 blocks from work; it's cheaper for me to go home for lunch than to eat at one of the few choices I have in walking distance. Plus that gives me almost a full hour to relax in my own house in the middle of the day.
I go to the farmers' market on Tuesday afternoon and Saturday morning to make the food dollars go the best place possible and I'm growing my own herbs because it's cheaper than buying them in the store. And I'm making my own bread more often, with flours I've bought from local millers. Small changes, but it adds up.
Oh, and I have not watched TV in a year, so I do not have cable. I go to the library instead of the bookstore and I have decided that there's nothing on video worth renting (because I was collecting late fees.)
I'm working more hours (more than 50 a week) so I don't have time for much in the way of recreation.
When I moved here, I intentionally bought Energy Star appliances, including low-water use front loading washer and dryer. And I have nothing but CFL bulbs through the house.
The biggest thing, though, has been a Mid-Year Resolution not to make any purchases except for essentials for the rest of the year. I'm trying to limit that to groceries, prescriptions and things like toilet paper, shampoo and deodorant. Anything else will have to go on a list which will be evaluated at the end of every month. If it's still something I want/need after a waiting period, I'll consider it more seriously.

It's a shame to have to be so tight-fisted, but I'm making about a third of what I did during my previous full-time employment. I'm now making exactly the same number of dollars that I made when I worked for another small newspaper 22 years ago! That certainly does not take normal inflation into account, not to mention the sharp increases in fuel and grocery prices we now face. It's hard to be in this situation.

Hey Y'all!

OK, I'm slow to catch up, but it's been a difficult stretch with all KINDS of things going on here.

Instead of trying to give you a complete run-down now, though, I want to offer you some tasty soup to help soothe your souls. I just made this myself tonight and give it two-thumbs-up, lick-the-bowl-no-one-is-watching rating.

I made this with some of the produce I bought at the Farmers' Market this week. So far I've made it to every sale, which is early Saturday morning and then again on Tuesday afternoon. It's a small operation with maybe a half-dozen to a dozen local producers bringing in baked goods, jams and jellies, veggies, eggs, cut flowers and plants. You'll see some homemade soap and decorative gourds as well. It's whatever happens to be ripe or ready the day of the market, so shoppers start here then fill in what they are missing at the grocery store. I surely do wish someone would have tomatoes soon!

Anyway, here's a great recipe for Potato-Leek Soup. You may not think it's soup season, but even though it's hot out there, this soup is light enough and satisfying enough to make me happy. Give it a try, and visit the farmers in your area to help support local agriculture and agribusinesses!

INGREDIENTS

* 1 cup butter
* 2 leeks, sliced
* salt and pepper to taste
* 1 quart chicken broth
* 1 tablespoon cornstarch
* 4 cups Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced
* 2 cups heavy cream

DIRECTIONS

1. In a large pot over medium heat, melt butter. Cook leeks in butter with salt and pepper until tender, stirring frequently, about 15 minutes.
2. Stir cornstarch into broth and pour broth into pot. Add the potatoes and bring to a boil. Season with salt and pepper. Pour in the cream, reduce heat and simmer at least 30 minutes, until potatoes are tender. Season with salt and pepper before serving.


Notes -- you could blend this at the end to puree it to a smooth consistency, if that's the way you roll. I smushed it up with my mom's old potato masher so it still has some texture to it.

This recipe is great as is, but feel free to doctor it up to suit yourself. It seems to be very forgiving of slight differences in the measurements, so don't sweat it if you use slightly less than the quart of chicken stock or the two cups of cream. Use what you've got handy. It's all good!

Excuse me now, I have to go put away the leftovers. I could swear there were some leftovers... somewhere ...

Hot time in the city

It has been nonstop crazy since last Friday. At 4:14 a.m., to be exact.

My coworker called me then and woke me from a deep sleep.

"Can you smell it?" she asked. I heard sirens, which had almost penetrated my dreams in the way that we incorporate external stimuli into our dreams. Once I was awake enough to comprehend the question, I smelled the smoke she referred to. More confusion.

"What's going on?" I mumbled.

"The lumberyard is on fire!"

Lumberyard? There's no lumberyard in my yard. My brain strained to make sense of her words. Did she mean Lowe's? That's way out north, away from these sirens that were screaming past my house. Or the other place up north. I couldn't pull the name out of the smoky air.

No, it was a lumberyard/building center on the south side of town, maybe 3/4 of a mile from my house.

"I'm picking you up," she said.

Within 10 minutes of her call I had pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt I found at the top of the pile on the floor and we were on the scene of this:



More to come when I get to work. I'm running late. Suffice it to say NOTHING has slowed down since then.

Finally Friday

I'm trying hard to give all of you a gently-measured dosage of blogging. I know you -- if I got back up to full speed, you would gorge yourselves to the point of making yourselves sick. So, I'll watch out for you and carefully get your systems built up.

(Yeah, yeah.)

How are you all doing with the transition in seasons? I can't believe we're right on top of Memorial Day and practically into the summer months! Our spring was just unusual, I think. The oppressive heat has abated and come back, kind of moving in on us in waves. We're starting to see the heavy thunderstorm season. Last night I stayed up late and had my front door open so I could enjoy some cooler air and the sound of rain. A little after midnight, though, that rain turned torrential and the air started swelling like heavy seas. By the time I battened down the hatches and went to bed, air was whistling through the cracks around the back door and the house was groaning. I could feel the roof struggling to stay firmly attached to the house.

This morning on the way to work I saw a tree that wasn't able to hang on quite as well. Half of a huge tree blocked the street a block from my house on my route to work. It was hung up on the utility lines and virtually filled the street from curb to curb. Impossible for cars to get through, but one lone biker was able to make it through by gliding along the far gutter over the tips of the limbs. I think I would have been too concerned about puncturing a tire on twigs and sticks to try it myself. At lunchtime, I noticed they had gotten the bulk of the mess out of the street, but there were still a lot of scattered leaves.

Since I had to take a detour anyway (oh- but of course I took a photo of the tree for work!) I picked up breakfast for everyone at the office. Friday always seems to be a good day for us to gorge on breakfast around here. I'm not sure I'll be able to continue doing that though, as it doesn't exactly align with my doctor's orders...

I almost hate to write this out loud, but ... shhh! Don't say it!! You'll jinx it! I have a quiet!! three-day we said HUSH! weekend! That gives me one day to clean house, one day to go to Tulsa and one day to recover and lolly-gag like a Woman of Leisure. Oh, how I need this! I'm too old to be working six days a week routinely. I really, really am.

School is out as of the end of the day. Even though I don't have kids, it's still a good thing for me as one part of my job is being the education editor. This last week has been a bear with all the schools having their "end-of-the-year" programs and parties and other activities. Graduation is tonight. Next week's page will be slim pickin's I'm afraid. I may wind up just doing a photo page. We'll see.

Here's a question for you — how are you handling the higher gas prices? I'm traumatized, but honestly my driving is pretty minimal. I will be cutting back. On days when the weather allows, I'll consider walking the 10 blocks to work. I looked at a Honda Elite scooter the other day. It sure was cute and I was tempted to go pay the $2,000 or so for one. It is something to consider, but there's not a local dealer and I did some reading on message boards. Reviews were kind of a mixed bag. Good milage and cute, but not much pep. There's a definite load limit on what they can handle.

Hey, it's Friday! Go make some fun weekend plans!

Whoa, Baby! It's Two-fer Tuesday!

Don't faint and don't get spoiled, but here you go with a second post for this fine Tuesday. It's something I was going to blog last night if I had not fallen asleep at the late hour of 7 p.m.

The season changed yesterday, rudely and abruptly. We've been rolling along with a cool spring and then BAM yesterday shot up into the 90s. I had made a pledge not to turn on my air conditioner before June 1, but I gave it up yesterday evening after I came home from the grocery store and it was 86 degrees in the house at 6:45 p.m.

Here in the land of floor furnace and window units, it's a big deal to change seasons. I had already been living with the heat thermostat set low, but even so have had blankets and a quilt on the bed for cooler nights. Turning on the main window A/C in the living room requires the assistance of a steak knife or thin screwdriver (last night I appropriated a steak knife) because the face plate is just ever so slightly cattywonker and won't allow the "off" button to pop back out unassisted when you try to push a cooling button. So I've learned the secret of the A/C surgery routine and in return was greeted with a face full of dust blowing full force once I accomplished my mission. Hey, it's part of the transition.

Today, of course, the high returned to the 60s. I came home for lunch and had to shut the machine off again because it was cold. Don't know why it didn't dawn on my this morning but I can only plead grogginess. Since I crashed so early, I woke up for a couple of hours in the middle of the night before I could return to slumberland just in time to get deeply, deeply asleep in time for the alarm to go off.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate waking up to an alarm? Actually, I have to use a combination -- an alarm followed 15 minutes later by an annoying station on the clock radio. Around here the annoying station part is simple. Anything that's played within the range of my radio is guaranteed to be annoying, pretty much 24/7. I cannot get the NPR station from the university 40 miles south of here. It's almost enough to trigger a psychotic break. Hey, maybe THAT'S what happened! Intriguing theory.

I also had to fill my gas tank today. I've been putting it off as long as possible, hoping to make it until my check hits the bank tomorrow, but fortunately I did have enough to go ahead and fill it today. Just barely. My little Civic drank up nearly $40 -- undoubtedly the most it has ever cost me to fill Ruby's tummy in the 13 years I've had her. It almost made me cry. One of my co-workers and I have about decided to start walking to work on days when weather and work schedules make it practical. My problem is an irregular night schedule with a lot of evening meetings at City Hall. I'm just not all that comfortable with walking home from there after dark, although it's only a few blocks on the main street and most nights would be safe enough. Problem is, I read the police logs every day and I know too much about the wacky and crazy things that can happen at that time anywhere in town. And we have our share of town characters who wander randomly and may act inappropriately. Still, on days when I can walk in the daylight and the weather cooperates, I may start hoofing it.

The other alternative we've talked about is riding bikes. I'd love to get a touring bike and I think it would be fun to ride it to work, provided I had a safe place to park it while I'm at the office. Somehow I don't think they'd appreciate me parking it next to my desk. I wonder though - I promise I'd get a really pretty pink one! With a basket! And I'll put flowers from my garden in the basket. Do you think I could convince them it's really just a mobile vase? Hmmm.

I'm toying with the idea of buying a tiny camera that I can carry with me for fun. I have a Nikon D70 SLR digital with a couple of lenses, but the bag is just big enough and bulky enough to be kind of a drag. And I haven't had the time to go on many (read that: any) weekend adventures since I've been here like I used to. I'm considering one of the tiny Canon Elph cameras. They come with a huge number of megapixels these days and the cost is very reasonable. I've looked at a few and a friend at work showed me his today. I'd considered one of the Sonys but he said they aren't very good quality. It'll probably be a while before I have enough free cash to seriously consider the purchase so I have plenty of time to study up on it.

Oh hush. I can hear you out there saying "I think she's only writing to keep from cleaning up more in the living room." Smarty pants. You think you know everything now that I've revealed my love of the Rita music. OK, OK. One more time on the CD and then to bed. We'll see what I can accomplish on the third playing. No matter how much more cleaning I get done, Rita's good therapy nonetheless.

Be seein' you around.

You know what's good?

I'll tell you what's good. Putting a Rita Coolidge CD on the boom box (specifically: The Best of Rita Coolidge The Millennium Collection from 20th Century Masters); cranking it up and belting out songs like "Long Ago and Far Away;" "All Time High;" "Loving Arms;" and "I'd Rather Leave While I'm in Love."

Oh nostalgia! It hurts SO good. I'm playing it through a second time now as I go about a little purging and house straightening. EXCELLENT for that purpose because the music can carry my mind back waaaay far into the past and I can wail and cry the blues away while I rock out. Do you have any idea how many old magazines you can throw away in that state of mind? A TRUNK FULL! And they aren't even MY MAGAZINES. These are magazines that the previous owner left stashed away in a closed cupboard and I just never had the emotional strength to deal with her mess on top of my own. That is until RITA came to my rescue tonight.

Rock on! More later, folks. I'm mulling over a LOT of stuff tonight while I purge.

Sick

I've been in bed all day. Fever, coughing, leaking head. Was up for an hour this afternoon then crawled back to bed. I've been up for a few minutes now to get water and check around the internets to make sure I was still sort of alive. Will be returning to bed/nest shortly. Will try to refrain from groaning.

OK, Fine

Apparently NOBODY is reading things around here any more. What am I going to have to do, start doing give-away contests? Fine and dandy, Andy.

Stay tuned to this station. As soon as I find something worthy of giving away, I'll post my very first contest. Meanwhile, though, won't somebody please say hello, at least? There's an echo in here!

Haiku

As a nod to my deep cultural roots, please allow me to share my newly discovered favorite Haiku of all time (sorry E.R., this has bumped you out of first place for the moment. Please post yours in the comment, though, because I would love to re-read it. And yes, this is a test to see how long before you read this and reply.)

Please also remember that I am probably one of the few 53-year-olds who still has a yen to rollerskate.

And now, courtesy of Bill Slowsky, the turtle from ComCast, whom I just discovered today because I do not watch television:

In what world is it
Okay to wear rollerskates?
Take those off your feet.

Red Dirt icon leaves his mark

Music legend Bob Childers, 61, known as the Godfather of Red Dirt music, was remembered Saturday morning in a memorial service as someone who loved people and lived his music.
He died Tuesday at his home in Stillwater.
More than 150 mourners overflowed the chapel at Trout Funeral Home. They ranged from music executives to bikers who arrived wearing leathers, from cowboys to Indians, from hippies to rednecks and from young to old — in other words, Childers’ friends.
Those who loved Childers were as eclectic as the sounds which formed his Red Dirt music — a mix of folk, rock, country, bluegrass, blues, western swing and honky tonk, with even a few Mexican influences.
The Rev. Guy Fox, pastor of Kildare Baptist Church, chose three scriptures which reflected Childers’ life: John 3:16; I Corinthians 13:13 and Romans 8:35-39. All three passages speak to God’s love, reflected in Childers’ life.
Childers, who was born in West Union, W. Va., was given his first guitar by his parents when he was 16.
“This was his life,” Fox said.
Childers had 12 albums which were devoted to the themes of love of God and other people, Fox said.
“I could feel his concern and love for other people and heard it expressed in his music,” Fox said.
The pastor said Childers’ health problems led him to focus on his own spiritual needs.
“His life is a testimony for us to examine our own lives,” Fox said.
Music from “Restless Spirit” played as mourners gathered. The three-disc tribute, produced in 2004 to help defray Childers’ medical expenses, is a compilation of more than 50 of his songs.
Chris Maxwell of Binky Records in Baton Rouge shared his memories of the project.
“Four years ago when Bob’s health began to slide we did this tribute record and asked musicians to donate a song. The songs started coming and just didn’t stop. We wound up with more than 50 songs,” Maxwell said. “Bob made one request: ‘Please don’t cut anyone off this record. They just mean too much.’
“There was no greater love than what Bob had for his sons and music.”
Others, including one of Childers’ brothers, described him as a storyteller.
“Bob was special in a way,” Mark Childers said. “He lived every day. Every day was an experience and every experience was a story. Many years ago we were in a booth in the Blue Room at the Ponca Bowl and he was telling stories about San Francisco and hitchhiking. I saw a poster on the wall above him which said that sometimes we don’t realize how much of ourselves we owe to the people we love.”
He then played one of Childers’ songs, dedicated to sons Zack and Jesse, called “My Daddy.”

“My Daddy was a guitar-playing man.
He climbed high on the mountain,
he laid down right on the ground.
He drank from the living fountain.
All I know’s he made a soulful sound.”

Childers frequently performed at Oklahoma City’s Blue Door and was a fixture at “WoodyFest,” the annual Woody Guthrie Folk Festival held in Okemah. He also had a five-year run as narrator for “Ribbon of Highway,” a touring show of contemporary performers playing Woody Guthrie songs.
Known as one of the best country-folk songwriters, Childers studied music in the 1960s at the University of California in Berkeley. He traveled extensively and in 1972, while traveling through Stillwater, he discovered the music of Chuck Dunlap.
“California had the money and the reputation, but Oklahoma had the magic,” he later was quoted as saying.
By 1978 his music came to the attention of musician Jimmy Lafave, who now lives in Austin, and a lasting friendship ensued. With Lafave’s help, Childers recorded his first album, “I Ain't No Jukebox,” in 1979.
Childers traveled to Nashville in 1986, where he released two albums, and was followed by several other Stillwater musicians, including Tom Skinner and Garth Brooks. That same year he also traveled to Austin, where he released another album. He returned to Stillwater in 1991 where he concentrated on writing and added to his catalog of more than 1,500 songs.
His songs appear on seven compact discs, including the seminal Red Dirt classic, “Nothin' More Natural,” featuring "Woody's Road,” his most famous song.
He is survived by his parents, Howard and Rhea (Gaskins) Childers of Ponca City, two sons, Zach and Jesse Childers, two brothers Mark Childers of Ponca City, and Paul Childers of Waynoka, and one sister, Ann Thorpe of Ponca City.
He was preceded in death by one brother, David Childers.
A musical tribute will be held at 2 p.m. Sunday at the Blue Door, 2805 North McKinley Avenue in Oklahoma City.

Here are a couple of Childers' songs to give you a sampling. I love them.

Don't Be Afraid

Burnin' Still

Hello again

I hope everyone has made it through Tax Day. I dragged my mangy hide into H&R Block yesterday to do what had to be done. I will get a refund -- it's almost enough of a refund to pay H&R Block for doing my taxes for me.

Next year I will be able to do them myself again. No more self employment nonsense, so I won't have to pay my own SS taxes. Another nice thing about working for da man is getting your taxes withheld each check so you don't have to cough up a lung to pay IRS.

If things go as I expect (not necessarily "as I plan,") I might be able to do a 1040 EZ again next year. I like it simple like that.

Now, let's talk about something considerably less pleasant...

It's been a very hard week or six. One co-worker and I have practically killed ourselves working much too hard. I can't even think of all the hard stories we've done. What I can do to give you a feel for things is this: On Tuesdays we fill out our time cards, from the previous Wednesday to Tuesday.

I planned to leave at noon today because I already had so many hours in. I was going to leave as soon as I wrote two huge stories about the city commissioners' meeting last night. It was closer to 1 by the time I wrapped things up and started logging off the computer. Had I left at noon, I would have had 58 hours in. And that's what I put on my time card.

Well, no sooner had I logged off than the traffic on the police scanner started going crazy. My co-worker and I just stopped and looked at it like it was this crazy little being talking nonsense. We couldn't wrap our brains around what we were hearing.

There was a woman standing in the middle of the street next to the back drive of the police department with a gun. She fired a shot in the air to get the attention of officers on the drive. One of the officers radioed in to the communications center. Several times they told the woman to drop the gun and she did not. Instead, she turned the gun on herself and shot herself in the chest.

I turned to my co-worker and said "Let's roll." (No, I don't use that expression.) I grabbed my camera bag, notebook, purse and pens. A handful of pens. She grabbed the keys to the company Honda and we RAN.

The police department is about five blocks from our office. The ambulance crew was still getting the woman into the ambulance when we arrived. I recognized all the officers on the scene from a training exercise a couple of weeks ago.

When the woman shot herself, all the officers happened to be gathered in the municipal courtroom on the first floor of the police station. They all immediately hit the back door and had the scene taped off within seconds.

The last I heard the woman is still alive, in stable condition. She was transported to a hospital in Wichita, about 70 miles from here.

By the time I was finished with my reporting I had to add another couple of hours to my time card. I've spent my time since then thinking about the officers who were confronted with this human tragedy today and hoping they were debriefed well. I think about how the PIO called the chief to fill him in and hearing her scream "LISTEN TO ME. IT'S OVER. IT'S ALL ALREADY OVER" as I stood next to her, then hearing his car screaming to the scene seconds later.

I think about how this is not the worst thing I've covered in my career, bad as it is.

And I think about all the things I've complained about piling up on me this week, and how I am having a hard time now remembering what they are.

Funny how incredibly important they seemed a few hours ago.

Happy Birthday J.T.!

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday old J.T.,
Happy birthday to you!!

And many moooooooore!

(hee hee)

Time for a New Post? Okie dokie!

Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday old Trixie,
Happy birthday to me!!

And many moooooooore!

(hee hee)