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'm trying something new. This is one of the main reasons I wanted a laptop, so lets see if it's all I dreamed it would be. I am actually sitting outside right next to my waterfall/pond. It is dark outside, but the little solar lanterns around the pond are glowing, as is the glow-in-the-dark water lily. I can still make out the forms and faint colors from the flowers blooming nearby. The gurgling sound from the waterfall is one of the most peaceful sounds in the world. But I have to admit, there is a little trouble in Paradise. I am not all that used to the keyboard on my new MacBook; you wouldn't believe how many times I have had to back up and correct a misspelling, missed punctuation, fingers on the wrong set of keys or CAPLOCKS on. I mean I could have written TWICE as much by now, if I actually had twice as much to say. I am not entirely comfortable; in order to sit near the waterfall, my chair is on somewhat of a slope. The arms on the chair somewhat impede my typing (as if I needed further excuses) and I am a little tipsy (from the unstable chair, you understand). But the main thing that stops me from camping out here all night, at peace with myself and the world, communing with nature is, ironically, nature itself. I am, of course, talking about gnats, who are attracted by the lit-up screen and mosquitoes who are presumably attracted by my delicious blood, despite the tons of repellent I have liberally applied to all exposed areas of my body. I sometimes wish they would just quietly land and have their way, but it seems a rule that they must first whine crazily around my ears and face, causing me to spastically wave and slap. The city sprayed for these pests last week, but I have noticed no immediate results.
Now, in Ruby Valley, weekday home of Ultradad, there don't seem to be any mosquitos. Just last weekend I spent a little time there, which I hadn't done for several months. 'The valley is so green, it hurts your eyes,” UDad informed me. This was a risk I was willing to take. We arrived Saturday afternoon, having spent part of the weekend catching up on chores in Carlin. The columbines were in bloom, and the Virginia Creeper was lovely. I had missed the lilacs. UDad parted the bedroom 'curtain' (actually a nailed up blanket) so I could see the Robin nest right outside the window. Four scraggly little birds with wide open yellow mouths blinked back at us. Murphy and Rowdy excitedly ran around the yard, but seemed particularly interested in what was underneath the shed. Before the weekend was out, each had killed a baby jackrabbit, no larger than a chipmunk. Who says toy poodles aren't hunters?
Okay, I am back in the house, not because of mosquitoes, but because of insistent poodles. “Can I sit on your lap? Just put that box thing on the ground.” ” You know, it's kind of dark out here. And getting cold. And my feet are wet. Why can't I sit on your lap?” “Well, okay then, don't mind us. We are just going to scratch your leg and look pitiful. Take your time.”
We took a drive to see just how far away the fish hatchery was. The drive of 20 minutes or so we expected turned into 45 minutes. But now at least we know where it is. UDad met someone who worked there a while back, and he offered him a tour; I definitely want to take him up on that one day.
On Saturday, UDad seemed to be in a lounging and relaxing mood, so I took the 'boys' for a little walk. “How long are your going to be gone?” he wanted to know. “Oh, I don't know,” I told him, “Maybe half an hour; probably not that long.” I'm not sure how long I was gone, but I know I went further than I meant to. And then, of course, you have to walk back. When I was about a mile from the house, I saw a familiar red pickup coming towards me. “Half hour my foot!” grumbled UltraDad as he stopped to pick up us. “We need to get going if we are going to take that drive to my old hunting grounds.” “I thought you said you wanted to rest up today.” I reminded him. “I changed my mind,” he said simply.
I packed us up a lunch and we got going. The wild flowers in the mountains were beautiful, although I guess I missed their peak. There were hues of purple, yellow, red Indian paintbrush and white thistle blooms. The poodles and I had several outstanding naps as we went along. After the long, bumpy ride, we were glad to get out and explore a little. We saw a bunch of Black Angus cattle belonging to the Lear Ranch (UDad's sister Kathy et al), and spotted an elk up on the hill, but he bounded away before I could get his picture. UDad told me that often, when 'glassing' they spotted bands of wild horses. “Glassing” or looking for game through binoculars was only one of the new terms I learned this day. “Look at the stud pile,” UDad said, pointing to a bunch of manure in the road. In response to my puzzled look, he explained that wild stallions will poop in a large pile to lay claim to their territory. “Now I'll show you the Lear mat,” he next said. I was beginning to feel like I was in a different country where I didn't understand the language.
The 'mat' was a system of rain-water collection to water wild stock in dry times. A large, very tough black mat was spread over the ground, weighted down with rocks. When the rain water collected here, it drained away into filtered pipes downhill into reservoirs. Only one seemed to have water in it currently, and I was plain to see from the muddy prints that it was being used. We enjoyed our picnic and explored a little. A little further along, we stopped to collect flat, shale-like rocks to bring home for decorative purposes. We got some great ones. The poodles had been so good, only wandering a short distance away from us, but suddenly they scented something that excited them and theyk were off. We yelled to no effect as they raced along, as if on a trail, getting further and further away. I was beginning to worry they would end up as coyote bait when they finally came panting back. UDad unceremoniously dumped them into the cab of the pickup, but Rowdy appeared at my side a few minutes later, having jumped out of the partially opened window. He is a bad one, that Rowdy. UDad decided to take a different 'road' back home, and as soon as the pickup began lurching along, I drifted off into another little nap. Arriving back at the house, I did a little cleaning and packed up to return home. All in all, a very nice weekend.
Throughout the weekend, I was on the phone with my Real Estate agent. We had an offer on our Idaho house and after a little dickering, decided to take it. It will be nice to have this done, but I can't help but feel a little nostalgic about the place where I lived for more than 30 years and where I raised all my children. And now the fun begins of cleaning out our remaining possessions, especially my piano.
I think I'm getting a little better on this keyboard, and, of course, as soon as I said that, I immediately had to correct 4 typing errors and a CAPLOCK. But who knows, maybe this will be what it takes to get me posting more often. You know, whenever the muse strikes me. No more having to sit comfortably in the computer chair in the well lit computer room typing on the familiar keyboard with handy mouse nearby. Now I can sit outside if I want to, or as now, on the couch with poodles sleeping nearby. Or I could be in bed; the possibilities are endless, virtually without end. So why cant' I figure out a clever way to end this post?
Newly Nearly Mobile,
UltraMom

PS I do think I am going to love my new MacBook.

Columbines at UltraDad's house

Baby Robins in Lilac Bush

Indian Paintbrush

Other Wildflowers

The Lear Mat

UDad after a leisurely lunch

UltraMom & Rowdy

What a weekend. Full of fun, excitement, family. Also, full of surprises, at least for a few of us. It all began, at least for me, several weeks ago with a phone call from Jim. Could we, he wanted to know, come to Howe for the weekend of May 31st? He hoped Jessica’s family would be able to make it and at long last the two families could meet. It would be a surprise for Jessica, so don’t tell her, okay? He thought we would have BBQ Beer-can chicken at either Uncle Bill’s or Uncle Chuck’s, and everyone was making stuff. What was this? Jim as a social events planner was entirely out of character. But I knew he was kind of fond of Jessica, and it did seem like a nice plan for the two families to get together. Of course we would be there. An idea started niggling at the back of my brain. Was this an event to announce an engagement? I started to ask, but decided not to. Knowing my son, even if this was the plan, he wouldn’t tell me.
Jim called me again several days before the ‘weekend du jour” (yes, I KNOW that means ‘the weekend of the day’. It’s kind of a little joke, okay?) to tell me all was set and that Heather would be joining us accompanied by her famous taco dip. “You can bring a dessert,” he informed me. “Something chocolate. Jessica’ family is crazy about chocolate.” My famous cream puffs were suggested, but this was problematic for a couple of reasons, chief of which was lack of time. Jessica’s family would be bringing several casseroles, and when we found out Chenoa, Mike and Rowan (Chenoa is Pat’s daughter, so our niece) would be able to make it out from Idaho Falls that day, Jim nixed my idea of a veggie tray and asked for another casserole type dish. “I’m not that big on veggies,” he informed me. Jim as a social planner indeed!
I set off bright and early Friday morning, only 45 minutes later than I had planned, and picked up UltraDad in Wells, where he parked his pickup. We were in high spirits as we wended our way to Howe, stopping in Twin Falls long enough for a delightful lunch at Chilli’s , and a bit of shopping in Shopko. I called Patty to see if anything more was needed, and found out she had dessert covered with a double chocolate cake and two fruit pies. I bought beverages and chips, and a lawn game called “Lasso Golf” that caught my eye on the way into the store.
We arrived at Bill and Patty’s, where we would be staying, about 5 pm. Jim was already there, and Jessica would be arriving soon. She is working for an accounting firm in Twin Falls for the summer, and couldn't leave until after work. Patty was recovering from a recent surgery, but had put together a wonderful dinner of roasted ham, cheesy broccoli and salads. We assembled my lasso golf game, which turned out to be a lot of fun, in spite of noone being able to beat Jim at it. Jessica got a little chilly, but had forgotten her sweatshirt, so I loaned her my blue jacket, which she is wearing in nearly all the photos, and which looks much better on her than it does on me. Later, Jim gave his Dad an early birthday present: he had remounted some antlers from a deer UltraDad had shot years ago and had a plaque made detailing where and when the deer had been taken. Beautiful.

Jim with Bill and Patty's dog, 'Toby'. Jim says Jessica is jealous of the close relationship he and Toby share

UltraDad and Bill compare antlers

Bill and Patty's old dog, “Buddy” is nearly 20 years old. He is a great dog, but lately is having quite a few 'old age' problems

The next day, Saturday, Jim and Jessica went for a hike in the mountains. Meanwhile, guests were arriving and uncles were BBQing chickens. Mike and Chenoa arrived with show-stealing, photo-monopolizing 5-month old Rowan and dog Chester, the Westie. Rowan was a little grouchy at first, but even allowed me to hold her before the day was over. It’s a good thing Heather brought her Taco Dip; I think it may have kept us all from starving as we waited for the hikers and dinner, especially the hungry Kasper clan who arrived around 2 pm, bearing casseroles and chips. Tom, the dad, was very personable and friendly. Jessica greatly resembles her father. Mom, Joann was also very nice and I enjoyed chatting with her. She homeschools(ed) all 6 of her kids, an amazing feat. Eric, the oldest is 27, I believe. He and brother Peter got Dairy Science degrees, then moved back home to help with running the family dairy farm in Melba, Idaho. Sister Janelle is graduating this year with a degree in Accounting, sister Josina is the equivalent of a high school junior, and sister Johanna is only 9. A new addition to the family is Elsa, a German Shepherd puppy who didn’t come along.

Mike, Chenoa and little Miss Rowan

Rowan liked cousin Heather

Rowan seems happy with Uncle UltraDad

Rowan was fine with Aunt UltraMom as long as she couldn't see who was holding her!

Just 'chillin' waiting for those kids to come back.

Johanna was pretty good at 'lasso golf'

Tom and Joann Kasper

About 3 pm, Jim and Jessica showed up. She was bubbling with excitement and sporting a large diamond ring on the 4th finger of her left hand. It wouldn't quite go over her knuckle, but she was wearing it all the same. Jim was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed my suspicions were correct! But as I soon learned, nearly everyone already knew this was happening, except for Heather, me and, of course, Jessica, who was astounded to see her family’s vehicle in the drive. I hugged Jessica and asked for details. “Jim took me to the place where he first told me he loved me,’ she told me. “He told me the first time he saw me he knew I was ‘it.” Jim broke in, “She said ‘yes’ before I even asked the question. So I told her I got down on my knee to take my shoe off, and the question I was going to ask was ‘Will you smell my sock?’” But the ‘rock’ on her finger showed me she had, indeed, answered the right question!

Jim and Jessica after 'announcing'

How romantic! Jim is pretending to drop Jessica in the ditch.

with little sister Johanna

Me and two of my girls

Jim,Jessica, UltraMom, UltraDad

UltraMom feels short

You can see me running to get into the picture. It seems the timer was set for '2 seconds'. Jim is still trying to get cameras focused, and noone else appears ready either…

The weather was iffy, but we ended up eating outside, though it was a little windy. At least the rain held off til after dinner. The food was good and plentiful, and everyone felt much more mellow with full stomachs. Jessica’s parents had gifts for the newly committed couple: a large NIV Study Bible and an Elizabeth Elliot book titled “Passion and Purity.”
Before we disbanded, we trooped out to the large ‘picture-taking’ rock in Bill and Patty’s front yard for some group photos. I tried to put my camera on a timer, but I think instead of getting ‘2 shots’, as I thought I was doing, I got my picture taken in ‘2 seconds’. Heather has promised me copies of hers, which I think turned out a little better than mine.
So, it was quite a weekend, and I am quite excited about gaining a daughter, especially one as terrific as Jessica. I may even let her keep my blue jacket, for a while anyway.

UltraMom

It’s good to be back, and thanks to those of you who commented. I find I am greatly influenced by the praise of others, which I should be getting over by this time of my life. And so it is you find me posting again, the second day in a row. This will be quite a different sort of story; a tale of horror and strange invisible forces.
It all started Friday morning when I woke up, sometime in the vicinity of before 11 AM. Still ostensibly recovering from a bout of flu as well as a bout of getting-up-early-for school, I was sleeping in with only a tinge of guilt. I yawned and reached across my back to scratch an irritating itch. I got up and headed for the bathroom, idly scratching a few more places. By now my mind was becoming aware that, despite all the helpful scratching, the itching was becoming decidedly worse. A look in the mirror showed raised, red welts in blotchy patches across my torso. What was this? Had someone sabotaged my bed with poison ivy? Was I becoming allergic to my poodles? Did I have (shudder) bed bugs? I showered and found some hydrocortisone cream to smear across the welts. My mouth felt kind of funny too….my lower lip was swelling and feeling a little numb. I pulled all the sheets and blankets off my bed and dumped them in the washer with a goodly dose of detergent.
I kind of ignored everything after that and headed for work. The business of the day put the morning’s troubles out of my mind for the most part, though the fat lower lip was kind of hard to forget.
UltraDad came home that night, and the next morning I thought I had a few new itchy red welts, though he didn’t seem to have been bothered. We discussed setting off bug bombs. That was as far as it got that day, and we went off to town with Pat, to dine out and enjoy the new Indiana Jones movie. It was, as were the first ones, filled with swashbuckling, supernatural events and one disaster after another. As we exited the theater, UltraDad voiced his opinion that the movie was not realistic. “You don’t think so?” I asked sarcastically. “No,” he said. “Harrison Ford has got to be in his 60’s. A guy that old couldn’t really do all that stuff.” Hmmm.
That night UltraDad slept in the back bedroom. I think he might have had premonitions of the evening’s horrors to come. I went to bed fairly early and other than a few idle scratches, gave no thought to the monsters that might be lurking under, around, and in my bed. How could I have slept through it all, you may wonder, as these denizens of the night roamed across my body, biting at will? I have asked myself the same question, time and time again, but the fact remains. I DID sleep through it and the next morning found my worst fears confirmed. The red welty patches were tripled and this time it was my UPPER lip that had been bitten. It was swollen and tight, protruding hideously. It was clear I would NOT be going to church that morning.
This time the bug bombs were set. We put the cat outside, gathered up the poodles and headed to Pat’s house to while away several hours until it was safe, as per bug bomb instructions, to return. “Can you believe this?” UltraDad asked Pat, his words clearly showing his concern, “She looks like she is from the Planet of the Apes.”
“No she doesn’t,” Pat said, examining me critically. “She looks more like she is from the planet of the Parrots.” So much for sympathy.
Pat urged some Benadryl on me and I reluctantly accepted. I seemed to remember not responding well to Benadryl in the past. Seemed like it made me feel kind of weird and jumpy. We settled down to watch one of the old Indiana Jones movies Pat had purchased the day before. This time around the Benadryl affected my in quite a different way. I conked out. At one point, I stumbled back to Pat’s guest bed, and when I woke up, the movie was long over and UltraDad had gone back home to de-bug-bomb the house. And the lip seemed not quite so misshapen.
The invisible forces have not been back, though they haunt me in my dreams. My lips were bad enough, but what if they had bitten my nose, an appendage not tiny to begin with? Maybe some day the memories will fade and I will once again have a peaceful night’s slumber. I pray it comes soon.

UltraMom

Wednesday, May 14
School is out for the year, and I’m feeling a mixture of relief and wistfulness. I suppose I should be ‘mature’ (nice way to say ‘getting old.’) and wise, and talk about how much I learned about myself, but I don’t really think that is the case, except the ‘mature’ part, of course.
The last day for all classes was Wednesday. I brought my special oatmeal-peanut butter-chocolate chip-raisin cookies to each class, and had enough left over to wreak minor havoc on my latest WW weigh in. In C N A, we finished up our skills testing. Reminiscent of a cheesy game show, we turned over cards laid out on a table top, which determined which three actual skills each of us had to demonstrate. Actually, I had finished mine last week, having drawn ‘feeding a patient’, ‘making an occupied bed’, and ‘perineal care.” Classmate Erica volunteered to be my patient for the first 2 skills; ‘Sarah Johnson’, the dummy in bed #1 would do for the third.
Contrary to Johnny’s assertion, making an occupied bed involves no witchcraft, just finely honed skill and a lot of making the patient roll over from side to side of the bed. When I had finished, Erica gave me a gentle reminder that I had forgotten to lower her bed. “I hope I don’t fall out of bed. It’s going to really hurt from way up here.” Thanks, kiddo.
I dumped the dirty linens, rewashed my hands and returned with instant pudding and a glass of water. “Hi Erica, I’m Kathy. I’ll be your C N A today, and I’m going to feed you your snack,” I rattled off, practicing my ‘7 ins’ while pretending to draw the privacy curtain. I tied on the ‘clothing protector’ (Link would call it a ‘bib’) and got to work. “Mmm,” said my patient, “this is good. Did you make it yourself? I would like to get your recipe.” “I did,” I told her “but I’m afraid the recipe is a family secret.” I didn’t mean to lie, but I did so want to impress.
The unfortunate Sarah Johnson in Bed #1 was missing both arms, had a bed sore or two and was badly in need of a good hair combing. I said missing both arms, but one arm actually lay next to her in the bed. She did, however, have a thoroughly clean and dry perineum by the time I was finished with her.
On this Wednesday, the last day of class, I was the patient volunteer for Donna. Donna already works in this field and made my occupied bed in about half the time it had taken me. She then took my right arm and hand through a set of range of motion exercises; then headed over for Sarah Johnson. Out of 20 or so skills, Donna had drawn two out of three skills the same as the ones I tested on. I must admit, she was a tad more competent.
After Donna’s testing, we received our pins and certificates. Now all that was left was to schedule our state board testing, and cough up another $100 or so.
My last Tai Chi class was short; our instructor had to leave early to pick up his wife from the airport. I have the 9 forms routine down pretty well, but the Liang Gong and warm up exercises are pretty hit and miss. But I have enjoyed this class.
Usually I would run home in between classes to let my dogs out, but Pat was taking care of that for me this day. She took the day off work for a Dr. appointment and we met in town for lunch at Taco Bell. UltraDad does not enjoy Mexican food, so I try to enjoy it when not with him. And I really do like Taco Bell’s vegetarian burrito loaded with beans, rice, cheese and sour cream!
I spent the several hours before “Drugs” class sitting in my car going over the terms I would be defining for my final. We had also done this activity the first day of class, and our answers this time would, ostensibly, show improved understanding. ‘Addiction, co-dependency, co-addiction, 12 step programs, uppers, downers, alcohol dependency, alcohol addiction, recovery, relapse’ and so on. The teacher made a point of saying we need only write a few lines defining and giving an example of each term, but I seem to be incapable of that. I was the last one to leave, and had covered 3-4 hand written pages.
Directly after handing in my final, I drove over to the VFW hall to lead a Weight Watcher meeting, rounding out a very busy day.
In some ways, I’m looking forward to a slightly slower pace for summer, if the weather ever cooperates enough to head in that direction. There is gardening to do and, hopefully, some trips to take. Where I’m headed from here remains to be seen, but one thing is for certain. I will be back!

UltraMom

First of all, very best thoughts and wishes to UltraGirl, the new mom on the block. Hope you are healing and finding motherhood more rewarding than exhausting!

As we know, Mother’s Day is a commercial holiday designed to improve business for florists and jewelry store. A time for expectations and obligations. That said, I still appreciate the day for the reason of phone calls and well wishes from my kids.

It was, as I told Johnny, an uneventful day. UltraDad was home, and his feet are feeling better. He got the swamp cooler ready in the event that we actually do get summer, let alone spring, and did some week-whacking before heading back to Ruby Valley to prepare for another work week. I went to church, cut UltraDad’s hair and had a nice nap this afternoon. I went over to Sis-in-law Pat’s house and we played cribbage and ate steak.
Johnny called, was available for call back and had a online chat with me, all much appreciated. He even wrote me some verse: Roses are red, violets are gay, I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day.” And a song, sung, supposedly to the tune of La Cucaracha:
“Happy Mother’s Day
It’s like any other day,
‘Cept unlike any other day
This is Mother’s Day.

I told him he needed a few more words, and maybe a mariachi band to pull it off.

Had a very nice Phone chat with Heather, which I always enjoy.
Talked to Jim, and heard “You must not like your mother’s day present. You never put pictures of it on your website.” Of course I must prove him wrong on that score, so here is my beautiful, fantastical Mother’s Day Woodburning of antlered elk.

Signed by the artist!

UltraDad and I went to see Iron Man in the Movie Theater yesterday. We thoroughly enjoyed it and I came home inspired to make a few changes to my Mother’s Day woodburning.

Ironman saves the elk!

And so, commercial or not, the sentiment of honoring Moms, imperfect though we may be, is a good one. So Happy Mother’s Day to all, and to all a good night.

UltraMom

Happy Birthday UltraGirl! May 4, 2008

I know in Japan we have already moved on to May 5th, but here in the USA it is still UltraGirl’s birthday. UltraAuntDebi, whose birthday is on May 3rd, and I were discussing the different time zones and decided, just to be safe, that we would celebrate our own birthdays for a week before and after the actual day. I think UltraGirl should do the same!
I know you already have what you have hoped for above all else, that perfect, adorable little Link, but I hope you also got some extra spoiling.
I’ve had a busy week, as usual, but I only have two more weeks of school left, so it should slow down some after that. I went to work at a different prison store on Friday, filling in for the regular storekeeper who is recovering from a knee replacement surgery. It was a 14 hour day, including the driving, and was the 3rd Friday I have done this. I probably have one left to go. Ironically, two weeks ago while working there, I hurt MY knee, and it is still giving me problems. I also have to check the MacGallery and Dynamic Duo website every hour or so (when a computer is available) for any updates or new pictures of Link, which takes a lot of time! Saturday, I drove to UltraDad’s house in Ruby Valley. UltraJimbo was already there, having driven up Thursday night. The guys spent Friday at Ultradad’s sister Kathy’s place (a ranch about 45 minutes away) hunting gophers. Per UltraDad’s request, I printed out an album full of Link pictures for his brag book.
Thinking about UltraGirl brings to mind the great time Heather and I had on our trip to Japan a year ago last December. The best part was getting to spend time with UltraGirl and get to know her a little better. As I was looking at some posts I wrote about our Japan adventures, I realized I never finished the narrative. So, in honor of UltraGirl’s birthday, I will write about one of the trip highlights I never got around to writing about, though I had good intentions: Hakone. But first, a disclaimer. I cannot seem to find any of the notes I wrote about the trip. I just reviewed my photos and did a little research on the web, but what you are mostly getting here are impressions and snatches of foggy memory. Feel free to correct any glaring inaccuracies, but also, cut me a little slack and creative license!

Hakone: Land of Hot Water and Black Eggs

We made the drive by car with ultra capable UltraBob at the wheel. The scenery was interesting and varied and I took a lot of semi-blurry ocean pictures out of my back seat car window. Perhaps some of you can recognize this and tell me what it is:

I don’t know what town we were passing through, but a couple of building particularly caught my eye. One was the KathyMom Quilt shop. It would have been interesting to take a look inside.

The KathyMom Quilt Shop

This is, of course, the Merry Chapel Christmas Hotel. I don’t think I have every seen anything quite so garish.

I’m not really sure how long we drove, but I remember the road being quite steep as we drove up and up and up. And now we were seeing gorgeous hillsides in hues of red, green, yellow and orange. It definitely looked like Autumn, though the month was December. Perhaps that IS Autumn in Japan?

We walked on Owakundani Trail (at least that is what the sign in one of my photos calls it), winding along through an otherwordly sparsely forested hilly scene of bubbling hot pools and steam rising out of the ground. The signs instructed us to ‘keep left’, which I had a hard time remembering to do at times. In America, of course, we drive on the RIGHT side of the road. As we walked and climbed, I became aware of a whirring sound. I turned around to see that UltraBob had whipped out his razor and was shaving. It’s nice to have such an accommodating razor that will let you shave anywhere, but I still found this an odd choice of time and location for this grooming activity.

Be careful if you have a medical condition!

An other-wordly landscape

Time for a Shave?

Our destination was the hot spring shack to get some hard boiled eggs. These special eggs were boiled directly in the hot springs in special vats. The minerals in the water turned the egg shells quite black. At this very touristy location, we joined a long line of folks waiting to buy 6-packs of these eggs, the eating of which was said to increase your lifespan by 7 years. We joined the crowds cracking our eggs on black-shell-shard littered tables and passed the salt before consuming our, hopefully, life-extending eggs. They were quite good.

Egg Boiling Vats

Not really sure what they're trying to tell us here…

Let's go for 14 years!

Extending our lives

After some lunch, we made our way to Yunessun to sample for ourselves the delights of the hot springs. At Yunessun, we were issued a wrist band and an assigned locker, where we stashed our clothes and belongings as we changed to swim suits. The wrist bands could be used as credit cards of sorts, and eliminated the need to carry cash for purchasing snacks from vending machines or food stands. As one site put it “spending money was never easier!” You just settle up and the end when you check out. I didn’t actually take many pictures here, and I have lost my cheat sheet telling me how to insert links, so I suggest you check out this website by the cut and paste method.
http://www.yunessun.com/english/location.html

We had a wonderful time sampling the themed, outdoor hot pools. One was filled with red wine, another with green tea. Heather and I enjoyed laying out on heated stones. I had to get my courage up to leave one pool long enough to walk to the next one. It was a little chilly out of the water. There were some gigantic pools inside, Mediterranean in style, complete with jets and musical light shows at intervals. After we had our fill of that, it was time for the Onsen, or more traditional Japanese bathing, without the cumbersome swim suits. I believe this part was called Mori NO YU (from the website) and featured (thank goodness!) separate bathing areas for men and women.
UltraBob had to go it alone as Heather, UltraGirl and I made our way to the women’s side. Heather and I were glad we had UltraGirl to show us how it was done. First we washed ourselves completely, including our hair, in special outdoor showers. Then, armed with a small hand towel, we were off to the baths. The towels, UltraGirl showed us, could be used to cover strategic body parts while walking from bath to bath. While in the hot pools, you could tie or lay the towel on your head, but you were not supposed to get it wet. Of course that was one of the first things I did as I tipped my head too far having already forgotten the soft terry cloth rectangle balanced there.
I found this experience to be relaxing and invigorating at the same time, and is one I would not have liked to miss. I found one spot I especially liked where I could lay back, feeling the cool nighttime air on my face while my unencumbered body soaked in the stony pool’s hot mineral water, The dimmed lights and soft music helped in creating this peaceful atmosphere. I even kind of forgot about UltraGirl and Heather for a few moments as they moved on to try out other pools.
In time, we met back up with UltraBob, whom I assume was having a relaxing time of his own. UltraGirl and I got completely dressed, but UltraBob and Heather seemed loath to part with their stylish spa robes.


I really like the way many Japanese restaurants graphically display their menu choices in the window, complete with prices. You can see just what each menu option looks like and what it will cost you before deciding what to order. Another good thing: no tipping. After another, in a long line of, delicious meal, we headed back to the Ultras home. In just a few days, it would be time to leave.

UltraGirl, I hope you have enjoyed seeing Japan through my eyes. The next time I come, I will have something even more exciting to see and get to know: my little grandson, Link. I know you and UltraBob will be wonderful parents. Happy Birthday, my sweet daughter.
Much Love,
UltraMom

LINC……Loveable, Incredible, Newborn, Çharmer…..
Yes, it’s true, UltraMom is decidedly going sappy over this little guy she has only met in pictures who weighs less than the bag of potatoes in my cupboard.
I have 7 or 8 photos living in my purse, ready at hand for quick viewing. Everyone in church and Tai Chi class has been so privileged. I’ll catch the guys in my C N A class tomorrow. Several people said I didn’t look old enough for this, and I didn’t tell them I’ve actually been old enough for quite some time. Everyone agrees, as well they should, that he is absolutely adorable.
As previously requested I have been trying to remember the songs I sung to my own babies. I think there were the standards; Rock a Bye Baby, Turaluralura (you know, It’s an Irish Lullaby), There was an Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly (Bob got his first taste of that one from his Grandpa Wesley accompanied by guitar) My own dad used to sing me to sleep with that old Christian standard “In the Garden,” so I’m sure I passed it along. Later, I favored ballads that told a story like Barbry Allen, Cockles and Mussels, Alive Alive 0 and of course The Preacher and the Bear. I learned a few cute ones from some cassettes we had about Dinosaurs in School and Monsters under the Bed that passed the time in the car. But mostly it was just whatever popped into my head, probably including some Carpenter’s tunes.
I check the Duo , Email, Skype and MacGallery ever few hours when I’m home just in case there is anything new about the little guy. Maybe just a little obsessive, but in an entirely healthy way, I’m sure. Btw, do you want to see my baby pictures?

Sappy Ultra(Grand)Mom

I just read Podcast 104 and it hit me- my grandson is really going to be here soon, maybe today. I have been relatively calm through all this, mostly, I think, because it hasn’t seemed quite real. I hear the Ultras discussing doctor’s visits and prenatal exercise and non stress tests. They talk about every intimate detail with a candor that surprises me and an ease that makes me a little envious. But it all seemed so far away.
But today was different. My heart took me there as I heard, felt and co-experienced the fear of the unknowns to come and the longing to see and hold this little boy so anticipated, so loved and longed for. I remember how I felt before UltraBob, my first, was born. I was far less prepared for the birth experience than UltraGirl; far less knowledgeable about episiotomies, breast care and quality of placenta. And I was scared. Actually, UltraBob, I do still remember the pain, but you are right; it pales next to the resulting miracle of life. After all, I did it three more times!
Okay, I just read the update, and it looks like it will be a few more days before baby Rufus makes his appearance. I was able to chat with the UltraFathertobe and lost a game of Scramble to him on FaceBook Games. The playing didn’t take long; the figuring out how to get to the place to play? Forever! I’m feeling a little more normal after little chats with three of my favorite sons on Skype. Maybe soon an update on my crazy busy life, but for now the spotlight remains on the parents to be. Love you guys, all three of you.
UltraMom

UltraMom the student here. I just got back from my 5th or 6th experience at the Nursing Home as part of my C N A class, and decided to bore you with some of the details and observations while they are still fresh (relatively speaking) in my mind.

We each got to choose our hall today, and I chose “200”, along with Darla, Donna and Geronimo. “200” is the rehab hall. No, I don't mean recovering alcoholics or cocaine users; I'm talking about residents who might actually, through recovery and some hard work, regain the mobility and ability to leave this place. This is a pretty active hall, and there are some marked differences between it and “100”, where the Alzheimer's patients call home, or even “300” and “400” where many residents need help with most of their ADL's or Activities of Daily Living. Like in many professions, medicine is chock full of acronyms, some of which I'm starting to get down.

When we got to the hall, somewhere around 6:30 A.M., the residents were in various stages of getting ready for breakfast. Some were seated in the dining hall, and asking for coffee or cocoa; some were still getting dressed and others were “dining in”. Unlike breakfasts down the other halls where many of the occupants need to be hand fed, most of these guys and gals could manage on their own. Except, of course, for opening the cardboard carton of milk. I don't know about you, but I have vivid memories of these cartons from school lunchroom experience. It was a lucky day when you could get your carton open without resorting to knife and fork to pry the glued on cardboard apart, and an even luckier day when the spout stayed rigid and intact enough to drink out of without dribbling milk down your shirt. I would say my success rate in opening milk cartons without tools was about 50% today.

One of my assigned tasks was to take vital signs, which I have done about 3 times now. Everything you need is on the cart, and when you put the blood pressure cuff on an arm, the oxygen meter on a finger and press “start” you soon see digital readouts of those statistics, plus a pulse. The 'ear thermometer' is wonderfully fast and simple, a vast improvement from my days of sitting in doctor's offices with an uncomfortable metal thermometer clamped in my mouth for 5-10 minutes at a time. My jaw aches just thinking about it! Respirations are done manually with a hand on the chest timing the breaths taken. The 'victims' were wonderfully patient and helpful, as I often had to try the blood pressure several times to get a reading. I don't know if I wasn't positioning the cuff correctly or what, but I was really slow!

Then it was time for me to help Jeanette with her shower. My previous experiences with showering had not been that great, so I approached the room with a little trepidation. But this was a whole new experience. “Hello,” said Jeanette when I explained why I was there. “I am going to need at least 4 towels and washcloths, a clean nightgown and Glen, the physical therapist,” she rattled off in a businesslike way. Yes, Ma'am. Just then Geronimo stopped by to see if we needed any help. “Yes!” Jeanette. “Maybe we can do it without Glen and surprise him!” It turned out Jeanette had broken both her legs in a bad fall on icy steps. There were not in casts however (I don't know if they had ever been), but were swollen and covered in bruises and steri-tape. Our job was to help her, with the aid of her sliding board, get seated in the shower. I cheered Geronimo on as, with Jeanette's precise instructions, he positioned the board and helped her get across it without putting pressure on the damaged legs. Then the shower curtain was slid shut, a nightgown handed out and a disembodied voice “I can handle it from here. I'll call you when I'm done.” Easiest shower I ever gave, including ones given to myself. I stood around outside the closed bathroom door, waiting to hear a sound that would indicate Jeanette was finished when my instructor passed by, making her checking-up-on-the-students rounds. We stood chatting in the doorway for 5-10 minutes, when an employee showed up, responding to Jeanette's call light, which was flashing above our heads!

Delores eyed my badge as I got her fresh water. “Kathy McDonald, Great Basin College, student” she read. “You aren't a student are you?” I assured her that I was indeed a student and her roommate joined in as we had a little chat about the things people could accomplish in their 'later' year. Later, when we regrouped for class discussion, someone mentioned that “Joyce”, recovering from breast cancer, was 54 years old. “That is really young,” I commented. “It's young for someone in here,” opined cute little 20-year-old Erika. “No,” I firmly corrected, “it's young for ANYONE.” I got a few sidelong glances, but no further argument.

The way I look at it is that I am not going to get younger. I know people have tried: fountain of youth, anti-aging, cryogenics, but I don't think anyone has succeeded. That said, anything I want to do, I have to do it now, or when I'm even older. As a matter of fact, so do you!

Tired, but still learning,

UltraMom

March 26, 2008

Heather's Birthday. I have been thinking about this post all day. As you can tell, I have kind of gotten out of the posting habit, but I knew I would have to write one today. After all, it's my very favorite daughter's birthday, and it's one of those decade ones. UltraBob passed it a couple of years ago, and I'm not going to tell you which one it is, except to say that it rhymes with “dirty.”

Those decade birthdays sometimes seem to carry a little more punch than the in-between ones. I think that is mostly because of preconceived notions we carry of what people do at certain stages of life. But as I am discovering, many decade birthdays past Heather's, we don't have to be limited by those notions

I know I have written about this before, on previous Heather birthdays, so I'll shorten it up this time. Heather was born on Easter, which we all know occasionally comes in March. My family had been invited to my house for Easter church and dinner, and I can still remember my Dad's bleary, puzzled expression when we knocked on his door very early Easter morning to drop off young UltraBob before continuing on to the hospital. “I thought we were going to YOUR house.”

This was before the days of common ultrasounds, so we didn't know until after the birth that we had a perfectly formed, exquisite baby girl. The red hair was a bonus. UltraBob was enchanted with his little sibling and wanted to point out her tiny perfect features to anyone who would listen. “Eyes!” he stated, as he attempted to jab his finger at each named item. “Nose! Ears! Mouth!”

After Heather was several months old and could hold her head up by herself, UltraBob was sometimes allowed to hold her, which he loved to do. She became his admiring audience for such feats as magnificently constructed block towers or made up stories and songs.

Heather always loved animals, and to those who know her now, it will be no surprise to learn that cats were her favorites. She was always covered in cat scratches from playing with the rough little kittens, but she never seemed to mind. One day, when she was in 5th or 6th grade she came home with a kitten that had been found in the schoolyard. Could we just keep the scrappy little calico, she wanted to know, until her owner was found? That was Brenda, our first house cat, and of course her owner turned out to be Heather. Brenda was not a particularly sweet cat; in fact once she tried to tear UltraDad's face off. She probably only survived that one by her skill at hiding until he cooled off. But she did love Heather. One day she left a particularly thoughtful gift on Heather's pillow: a freshly caught mouse! In the end, we had 4 housecats and Heather's room was where they slept, ate and litterboxed. Heather still loves cats and currently has three: Callie, Nimbus and Rocky.

Out of all the kids, Heather was the one who really loved raising 4-H animals, especially the lambs. She got really good at carding, clipping and showing them, and always came home from the Butte County Fair with a fistful of blue ribbons from showing, fitting and demonstrations. It seems like she always had a girl lamb, and tended to name them after women in her life at the time, whom she admired. Come to think of it, I think she named Brenda the cat after her first Lamb 4-H Leader. The lambs I remember were Suzanne (I'm sure for Suzanne Livermore, our pastor's wife at that time) and Lori, which also happened to be the first name of Mrs.Arnold, a Howe grade school teacher, whom Heather was good friends with.

I am so proud of the beautiful, capable and responsible young woman I am fortunate enough to call my daughter. She is also a lot of fun. I know that my trip to Japan would not been nearly as much fun without Heather there to share the experience. She made sure I got off the plane when I was drowsy from my motion sickness medicine. She made sure we found the right gates for plane boarding. She kept me entertained on the plane and train rides (when I wasn't napping!) and kept me from getting lost in Zushi while we did a little exploring.

I was glad to hear that Heath, her longtime boyfriend was spoiling her today. She awoke to a festively decorated house and birthday gifts. And though I've been trying to show her how special she is to me by showering her with mail in this month leading up to her birthday, my actual gift to her is going to be a little late.

Happy Birthday, Honey. And many, many, many more. I love you very much.

UltraMom

Easy Post! Jessica has requested my meatloaf recipe, which she has yet to try, but which Jim quite likes. Since I had to do all this typing, I thought I'd share it with all of you. I probably should give credit where it's due: Kraft Food and Family quarterly food magazine. I've gotten some good recipes out of those things.

Easy Italian Meatloaf

2 lb lean ground beef (or elk, deer, etc.)
1 pkg (6 oz) stuffing mix for chicken: I usually use cornbread, but I'm sure any kind would work
1 can (14 ½ oz) Italian style diced tomatoes, undrained
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup spaghetti sauce, divided
1 ½ cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided (can also use cheddar if desired)
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix all ingredients except ¼ cup each spaghetti sauce and cheese.

Shape into loaf in 13 x 9 inch pan sprayed with cooking spray.
Bake 50 minutes. Top with remaining ¼ cup spaghetti sauce and remaining ¼ cup cheese. Bake an additional 10 min or until loaf is cooked through
Makes 8 servings.

Can make mini-meatloaves instead (I have done it this way the three times I've made this)
Shape meat mixture into 4 loaves. Bake at 375 for 40 min, etc. Can freeze for up to 3 months, but it hasn't lasted that long around here.
Leftover meatloaf makes excellent sandwiches!

Chef UltraMom

I can’t believe that in a few short weeks, it will be time for UltraMom’s Spring Break. In some ways, it seems like the semester is just getting started. In C N A, I have now completed 3 sessions at the nursing home. Last week was on the rehabilitation floor, where people can actually recover to the point that they are able to leave the institution. That floor is busy and fast-paced and Geronimo and I got more practice taking vital signs.
In Tai Chi, we have learned all 9 forms of our series, and are now learning them in reverse. I don’t have to continually watch the instructor now and I feel a little more graceful and in control, though UDad says I look rather silly.
In Drugs and Society, I actually could use a little help. We have to write a paper on Addiction that is worth 10% of our grade. I wrote the following paper as an early assignment. What I would like from you is YOUR opinion of addiction, ie personal experiences or of those you know, if you think it is a disease, and what actually constitutes an addiction.
I stopped at the public library to do a little research, and found, nestled among such tomes as “Living with Lupus” and “You and Your Heart” titles that hint at topics more mysterious, potentially heartbreaking, yet, in way, morbidly fascinating: “The Hitting Habbit”, “Education of a Gambler”, “The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Washing”, “Sober and Staying that Way”, “Obsessive Love”, “The Codependency Conspiracy”, and of course all manner of books about eating disorders. How does someone come to continue a harmful behavior to the point where she can’t give it up? Is what he gets out of it worth what he loses because of it? And, can you truly understand and help someone overcome an addiction if you haven’t gone through it yourself? Tell me what YOU think.

ADDICTION by UltraMom
“The term “addiction” is a complex concept, and one has only to Google the phrase “addiction definition” to see that no clear-cut, agreed upon definition exists. Wikapedia states that the term “used to describe a devotion, attachment, dedication or inclination,” going on to say that in the present, it is used to describe a “recurring compulsion by an individual to engage in some specific activity, despite harmful consequences to the individual’s health, mental state, or social life.” The first definition does seem far too mild to describe the types of addictions we have been discussing; that is addiction to using drugs.
In our text, Drugs and Society, the authors prefer the term “drug dependence” to “drug addiction”, due to negative labeling connotations, but note the psychological attachment to the addictive substance as a condition of addiction. In “Overview of Drug Use and Åbuse,” Jon Jules states that in an addict’s body has physically adapted to the drug to the point where he feels abnormal without it, and using the drug has become the focal point for his life. Bill Moyers in “The Hijacked Brain” give us some insight into why someone would actively pursue a substance to the point where it destroys him physically and emotionally and ruins his most valued relationships. Addiction, he tells us, is a brain disease, and many addicts have a gene indicator, supporting the view of biological factors. Addictive drugs produce changes in dopamine functioning, changing the addict’s brain in fundamental ways so they, essentially, are a different person. In rational moments, they realize what they are doing, and vow to stop; even taking radical measures to externally control the addiction. But the compulsion is too strong to ignore for long.
The initial reasons for the addiction are various, and have much to do with the substance and what the user gets from it. Many get hooked on a feeling, such as euphoria, numbness, power or perceived increased competence. The effects of the drug lessen over time, so the addict uses more and oftener trying to get the initial effect, which he never can.
Of course people are addicted to many things besides drugs. Personally, I have an ongoing problem with food, and after losing a significant amount of weight several years ago, have been working for WeightWatchers to help other people deal with this debilitating addiction. Overeaters go through the same cycle of thought, feeling, mood, preoccupation, craving, and memory, leading to abusive eating. After the relief phase comes self-loathing, depression, amends, remorse, promises and oftentimes external controls until the trigger situation or negative stress starts the process all over again. I can already tell that many things I learn in this class will be helpful to me in understanding my members and how to better help them.
Biological, societal and emotional factors may help explain why one drug user becomes an addict while another does not. This can be useful in helping an addict understand his disease and the steps he needs to take to overcome it.”

Come on, help me with my homework!

UltraMom

I feel a little guilty about no longer being a posting machine, but I guess that’s one of those bad things about machines: they are always breaking down!
I have become a very busy girl, but it is of my own choosing, so I shouldn’t complain, though, of course, I will.
Today is Friday, and I’m looking forward to a weekend with no school, work or Weightwatchers. UltraDad is home, so no traveling to Ruby Valley. Yay!
The ‘boys’ got their haircut last Monday. They had gotten so shaggy I hardly recognized the neatly trimmed little dogs wearing black and white bandannas the groomer brought out. But they recognized me and managed to convey, through urgent licks and soulful glances how traumatic the whole experience had been as we made our way to the car for the trip back home. I don’t know if it is the haircuts, the increasingly nice weather, or being left alone so much, but Murphy and Rowdy have really been scrappy this week! They have knockdown, drag-out fights over such things as a piece of candy found on the floor. Rowdy, being smaller, usually gets the worst of it.
In “Drugs” right now we are discussing alcohol, both the physiological effects and the behavioral perspective. Having only peripheral knowledge of this substance, this is a great learning experience for me. From Randy, a 25-yr recovered alcoholic and current counselor I hear such quotes as “ First the man takes a drink and then the drink takes the man.” And “How do you know if an alcoholic is lying? His lips are moving.”
In C N A (gotta separate those letters or again my class turns into CAN) we talked about ostomies, catheters and enemas. Good stuff. Now just why am I doing this again? Actually it is interesting to learn how the whole body functions, or how it sometimes doesn’t function all that well. The body is really an amazing thing and has the ability through homeostasis to cover up a ‘multitude of sins.’
Thursday morning early, it was back to the Nursing Home. This time, Chelsea and I were assigned to “100” or the Alzheimer’s hall. Chelea is even more heavily pierced (as well as tattooed) than Tneal, including a stud in her tongue. (ouch!) She just turned 18, and has worked at the Nursing Home since last fall, though she hopes to get a job at the hospital when she graduates this course. But she definitely wants to stay in the healthcare field. Chelsa is very patient with me and helpful as she shows me how they chart each resident’s progress and limitations on the computer; such things as moods, vital signs and mobility. She also shows me the book where each resident’s food intake is charted.
I help Marijean, a Resident's Assistant, shower Christine. As we wheel her towards the big shower room, Marijean tells me how all the residents down this hall hate their showers, though she tries not to use the word. The plaque reading “shower room” on the door has been covered up with a paper on which are drawn smiley faces and stars. And as soon as we get Christine in the room and start undressing her, she starts wailing. I know she is cold and uncomfortable, and I try to hurry, but I am inexperienced and clumsy. It is only later that I remember I should have been wearing gloves.
My next task is to help dress Eileen, who is currently on the toilet. She is one of the sweeter ones, and everyone loves her. Again I am clumsy, and cannot figure out the tabs on the ‘briefs’, as the adult-sized diapers are referred to. Eileen tries to help, but she isn’t sure either. I finally figure it out, and help Eileen into sweatpants, and a sweatshirt layered over a thermal top, as she is often cold.
We wheel her down the hall to the dining room, and I am instructed to help Beno with his breakfast. Beno (pronounced “Beano”) is from Hungary, and speaks primarily in that language, and no one can really understand him, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Beno smiles a lot and eats whatever I spoon into his mouth; scrambled eggs, watermelon, oatmeal, though he doesn’t seem to want the toast. At one point, he takes the toast and watermelon rind and wraps them in his napkin. He is able to drink by himself, and polishes off his juice, milk and pink supplement, though this all takes a considerable amount of time. Chelsea is feeding Muriel. Muriel is a good eater also, though her food is all ground up to the consistency of cream of wheat. She laughs and sometimes looks confused and says “I feel like a dummy.” When Chelsea talks to Beno and pats his face, he really perks up, and kisses her cheek.
After breakfast, a lot of the women are placed in a large circle, most in wheelchairs. It is time for Sitsersize. The leader throws a ball and has each participant in turn kick it back. This is followed by throwing beanbags, moving arms and legs. Most cooperate, though there are a few holdouts. Mary chatters through the entire thing, a marked contrast to the rest of the largely silent group. It seems she always chatters and when she doesn’t, it means there is something wrong. She doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but when asked to, sings her chicken song, in Polish. “We asked her what it meant one time,” an Aide tells me. “She said, ‘you know, its about chicken poop and stuff.’” Beno remains sitting at his breakfast table. When I ask why he is not sitsersizing, Chelsea explains that he would just get up and leave if they put him in the circle. It seems he is a ‘wanderer’ and gets a lot of exercise wandering through his hall.
Soon it is time to ‘debrief’ and hear about the other’s experiences. It sounds like most were a lot busier than Chelsea and I, but I’m not complaining.
Okay, I’m done writing, but I need an ending. I mean, how would it be if I just left it like this? I need some sort of clever ending, but it’s just not coming to me. Well, I’m just going to have to sleep on it. My brain seems to have gone to bed ahead of me. But I want to post this tonight.

(not so) clever UltraMom

It has been a nice quiet weekend. Ultradad was actually able to come home on Friday and is even getting to spend two nights here, so that is nice. Today, he and sister Pat spent the morning in Elko. I had been in that town every day this week, so I opted out of that little excursion and puttered around the house doing sporadic, random bits of housework while listening to The Kite Runner on my Walkman.
We played a little cribbage with Pat in the afternoon, when she came to retrieve the new books she had purchased, but that UDad had “accidentally” taken home. I actually cooked dinner tonight, a now rare event. It was a delightful meatloaf which we both ate too much of while watching a 1976 Lawrence Welk show.
I think it’s about time I fill you in on the classes I’m taking this semester.
My 6-credit class is my C N A or Certified Nurse’s Aid class. This is funny; every time I type in “c n a ”, my computer changes it to CAN, so I have to leave spaces between each letter. You know, once in a while, just every so often, it happens that I really do know more about what I intend to write than the computer does. But it never believes me.
Whew, I got a little off track, didn’t I? So, I go for 2 1/2 hours twice a week of classroom work. Some of it is lecture, but lots is hands on, as we learn how to wash our hands (there really is a technique), make beds, take vital signs, feed, turn, move and bathe people. We sometimes practice on each other, and other times on the manikins. One time I noticed that a very anatomically correct male manikin was wearing a wrist bracelet that identified him as “Sarah Johnson.” Poor guy must be having some serious identity problems. Five out of the ten students in the class already work at the nursing home where we will do our clinicals. Getting their C N A license will enable them to do more for better pay. Darla and Erika are in the Radiology program, Eneritz wants to be a trauma nurse and Geronimo has dreams of being a doctor someday. Me? I’m just trying to get an idea if this could be a direction I want to go.
We had our first clinical Thursday morning starting bright and early at 6 A.M. Donna, Eneritz and I get assigned to 400 Hall, where, as in 300 Hall, more or less normal residents live. 200 Hall is for rehab, and 100 Hall is where the Alzheimer’s residents live. Sometime I will have to take my turn there, but the normal hall is enough for me today. Donna and I shower Livia. It is difficult with two people and Donna tells me she usually works alone. I do not see how. In the dining room, we help feed breakfast to several women who are more or less asleep and occasionally swallow, as it seems, by instinct. Everywhere Tvs are on and the talk is of the earthquake in Wells. Enertiz feels cheated because she slept in this morning and did not even feel it. An elderly gentlemen they call “Boni” tells me how he used to break horses for Roy Rodgers, Gene Autry and Bing Crosby and how Howard Hughes was a personal friend of his. I take this information with a small grain of salt.
My Tai Chi class is twice a week and lasts one hour. It is at the Senior Citizen’s building, or “The Terrace” as it is called. I am probably the youngest one in the class, including the instructor, but I am enjoying it. Bill, our instructor is a kind, patient man, and spends a lot of time talking about the technique of breathing deeply and slowly. We do warm up exercises and begin learning “Nine Forms.” Several weeks into class, I think we may be up to form 3 or 4. Inevitably I compare these vibrant, intelligent senior citizens with the residents I saw at the nursing home. What a difference.
My third class is part of the new Human Services program being offered at the college and is called “Drugs in Society.” The textbook details licit (tobacco, alcohol, prescription and OTC) as well as illicit substances of abuse. We learn how these drugs cause physiological changes in body functions and how many of them can cause physical as well as psychological dependence. Part of the class assignment requires us to write up a contract detailing a health change we wish to make, and how we will measure our achievement. I am choosing exercise, and am committing to five 1/2 hours cardiovascular sessions and 2 hours of strength training/stretching each week. Several of the things we learn in C N A we also talk about in “Drugs”, but from a different perspective. Initially, this class was offered Tues and Thurs afternoons when I am at work. As it happened, the teacher asked the class, and they all agreed to meet once a week on Wednesdays instead, which is my day off. I would much rather attend class in person than to take it online.
Of course I am also leading one or two Weight Watcher groups and working four afternoons a week and spending most weekends at Ruby Valley with UltraDad.
So, UltraBob, do you see why I am having such a hard time getting your package together and in the mail? Next week for SURE; I promise!

UltraMom the Student

I have been meaning for quite some time to write a post about my new classes. This post would, theoretically, be witty, poignant and insightful. But everytime I think about it, I’m just too tired to be any of those things. So I have decided to just ramble on about whatever comes to mind until I’m no longer coherent. How about that?
The big thing today was the earthquake, over 6.0 on the Richter Scale, centered in Wells, NV, not all that far from where I live. It occurred about 6:15 this morning, a time when I would normally still be in bed. This particular morning, however, found me at the nursing home in Elko for my very first clinical experience for my Certified Nurses Aid class. I was standing in the middle of a hallway, as a supervisor figured out what we were going to be doing for the morning, when suddenly the floor started rolling, and I felt like I was on a ship. Then we noticed the chandeliers were swaying. One of my coworkers was kind of freaked out, but it didn’t seem to bother the residents. More about my Nursing Home experiences at a future date. It really wasn’t all that bad where I was, but I understand they had some pretty extensive damage in Wells, though no one was badly hurt. When I arrived at the prison that afternoon, I learned that most of the inmate work crews had been sent to Wells to assist with the clean up, and I ended up working an hour overtime waiting for them to return so I could hand out their store purchases. I talked to UltraDad tonight, and he is fine also.

We had a very nice time last weekend. I had been planning to spend the long weekend (taking Friday off, with Monday a paid holiday) at Panther’s house in Emmett, ID. Jimbo would be there, having recently returned from his trip to Nashville, as well as my brother and wife, Dave & Jane and their daughter Linda, who is a Senior at nearby Albertson’s college. At the last minute, UltraDad ended up being able to go along, thanks to the good weather projected for the weekend.
We had a great time, and were able to spend part of Saturday at Panther’s husband John’s family cabin in McCall, ID. “Cabin” doesn’t really do it justice; it’s a charming log house on 10 wooded acres, including a stream. We were able, in turns, to try snowshoeing, which I really enjoyed. I had always pictured snowshoes as giant, woven tennis-racket looking contraptions, and the walking with them as quite an arduous undertaking. These modern snowshoes were maybe the size of a badminton racket head, and were super easy to put on and take off. Using them to walk confidently on top of 4-5 feet of snow seemed not much more difficult than normal walking with normal shoes on dry ground, though I could feel the snow kicking up the back of my legs and hips as I walked. I really want to get a pair for Ruby Valley winters! The ‘boys’ (Murphy and Rowdy), weighing 5-7 lbs each, lightly skipped across the top of the snow, gathering iceballs in the long hair of their legs and bellies. Some of the ice balls were golf ball sized, and I think the dogs weighed twice their normal weight by the time I got them back in to thaw out by the fire.
Jessica was able to meet us at the cabin, which was great. We enjoyed a great meal of chilli, biscuits and oreos and played a very fun game I had never before played called “Apples to Apples”. Maddeningly (for us) , and unwittingly, Jessica and I kept playing right into Jim’s hand!
Panther and John were soon to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary (congrats kids!), and would be returning to the cabin on Monday, so Jessica opted to leave her pickup there and come back to Emmett with us for a few days. On Sunday, we were to go to church with Linda, and she invited anyone who wished to go early and sing in the church choir with her. She ended up with four would-be singers; Ultramom, Panther, her Dad, Dave and brave Jessica. The choir director was great about it, and we soon found ourselves resplendent in choir robes, singing our hearts out. It was great fun.
Later that afternoon was the great Pizza Cookoff, pitting Aunt Panther’s bread machine pizza-dough recipe against UltraMom-Jessica’s thin crust. Actually, this recipe started off as an UltraMom’s specialty, but Jessica has taken it to a new level, and Ultramom only assisted on this particular day. Several of Panther’s inlaws came to help judge and enjoy the repast: John’s mother, who is amazingly active and loads of fun, his sister, Donna and husband Jeff, and their two grandkids Jack and Naomi. The consensus, when nearly all the pizza had been consumed, was that both pizzas, each in their own special way, were winners.
All too soon, Monday was here, and it was time for UtraMom and Dad to return to their normal-for-now, busy lives.
Okay, kids, that’s it for tonight. After I got off work late, I stopped by the LDS church close to my house where a Blood Drive was going on, and I donated a pint or two, so I’m using that as an excuse for my weariness; that and the fact that I got up at 4:30 this morning. At least I had an excuse to eat a few cookies.

UltraMom, the snow trekker

As you know, if you have been reading this post for any length of time, UltraMom is a very proud mother of four amazing, now adult, children. At various times, I relate to you their incredible feats, as well as their foibles. Today let me present to you, the Majestic Johnny, lawyer in training extraordinaire. First, let me quote to you part of an email recently received from him, and you will see what I mean.
“Over the past several months, I have been competing in the Vanderbilt Moot Court Competition which consisted of a written brief and competitive rounds or oral argument before panels of judges (consisting of professors and lawyers in early rounds, and actual judges in the last round). My partner Scott Goldman and I advanced from an initial pool of 73 teams to the final two, which was a lot of work. We had our final argument tonight, which was in front of two Federal appellate court judges and one justice from the eastern district of Tennessee federal court. We argued well in front of an audience of around 100, and the judges commended us on our preparation but ultimately the other team won. They were very good and we have no hard feelings about the loss. A lot of you knew about this competition before so I wanted to let you know how it turned out. For the rest of you, I suppose I just wanted to brag about an impressive loss ;) We did end up 2nd our of 73 though, and as my brother Jim would say, “That ain't bad.”

Jim was able to witness the finals, and he said Johnny and Scott were brilliant. He, and many others thought they had won, but unfortunately, Jim was not one of those aforementioned court judges. And Jim is totally correct: 2nd out of 73 teams ain’t bad at all; in fact it’s pretty dang good.

Proud UltraMom

So much is happening in World UltraMom I hardly know where to begin. If you were to ask the “boys” (Murphy and Rowdy, of course!), a little TOO much is happening and is keeping UltraMom, slave of poodles away from home far too much. They like the weekends that we have been spending at UltraDad’s country home in Ruby Valley: a nice ride in the car, getting to see Dad and then lots and lots of attention.
We have actually just returned from one such excursion. UltraDad has been getting very little time off, as we are in the midst of a winter the likes of which noone around here has seen since ’83-84, as related to UltraDad by a Ruby Valley oldtimer. It occurs to me that Jimbo was born in that winter, and I think back trying hard to remember if that was a particularly bad, snowy winter in Idaho. Yes, come to think of it, I do believe it was.
UDad is working on the tail end of a month of working nights, heroically trying to keep the roads plowed open. This weekend he actually ends up getting two days off, though he had to stay around, just in case. He was able to spend part of Friday in Carlin, and after I got off work, we caravaned back to Ruby Valley. On Saturday, we play cribbage, cook and watch an old Johnny Cash movie, The Pride of Jesse Hallam, about a young widower with two kids who is illiterate. To the backdrop of Johnny Cash songs, proud Jesse pays for his daughter’s scoliosis operation, takes his wayward son in hand, and learns to read. Really, not a bad movie. We also watch an episode of The Cisco Kid, one of my childhood favorites. The title is “The Phony Sheriff”, and opens with Cisco and Poncho moving a herd of cattle. The phony sheriff, whom they don’t yet know is phony, inspects the herd and says the brands have been tampered with. He and his cohorts are ready to string up our heroes to save the law abiding taxpayers the expense of a trial. But with diversion, a little fisticuffs and some very slow reacting bad guys, Cisco and Poncho ride away to fight another day. My favorite line comes later when the pretty woman is sheltering the phony sheriff and tells Cisco she has not seen him, when obviously the guy has just been there. I mean, his horse is tied up outside. “Miss,” says Cisco sternly, “You are being very annoying.” Strong words indeed! Meanwhile, the bad guy is unsaddling Cisco’s horse and making his escape. Of course Cisco can’t chase him until he resaddles the horse. Can you imagine what his fancy black suit would look like with horsehair all over its, uh, posterior?
Sunday afternoon, we take a drive in the pickup through Secret Pass to see if the “Road Closed” sign means what it says. Turns out, if it does, it shouldn’t. The road is fine, and we decide to go on to Elko for lunch and a few more groceries for UltraDad. At KFC, we order an 8-piece meal. That way, UDad will have some leftovers for the next day or two. As promised, I save some prime chicken scraps for the “boys” who have been patiently waiting in the car. On the way back to the Valley, I grab a few ‘Zzs’. All too soon, its time for UltraMom and the poodles to head back home.
This was a much nicer going-home drive than the one we had last Sunday. That day the roads were terrible. It was questionable if I could even make it home going the long way through Wells, but I followed UDad’s coworker, Chick, who was on the snowplow, and made it to Wells on ice and snow covered roads with very poor visibility in patches. I thought I had it made as I booked it down the Interstate towards Elko. Suddenly, I was skidding on some treacherous black ice. I can never remember what you are supposed to do in case of a skid, at least not while I am skidding. Steer which way? Do what with the brakes and gas? Fortunately, no one else was on the road right then as I went back and forth across the highway, ending up in the median in a deep pile of snow, which probably kept us from further harm, both to ourselves and to the car. I found the “Emergency Winter Road Kit” in my trunk and got out the little, telescoping shovel. How to make the handle stop collapsing? Finally I just started digging with the head of the shovel. A very nice young couple stopped. They had a bigger shovel, and also knew how to lock mine straight. But we couldn’t dig it out. I was just too packed into the snow. I only had to wait an hour for a Triple A certified tow truck to come pull me out. The car was driving fine, and I was really looking forward to getting home and out of my wet boots. But when I got to my street, I could see that Ruby Valley wasn’t the only place that had had a lot of snow that weekend. There was a huge mound in front of and in my driveway. I parked in the street, put the dogs in the house and started shoveling. So that is what I was doing while you were enjoying your exciting Super Bowl game! At least I didn’t have to use that floppy little travel shovel on my driveway. I’m trying to look on the bright side here.
On the Road Again,

UltraMom

I finally put my remaining Hershey’s kisses in the freezer, which is only minimally slowing down my consumption of them. They are dark chocolate, which is a particular weakness of mine. I was discussing this obsession with Johnny when he posed an interesting question.
“I always hear people talking about being ‘chocoholics’, but I never see any chocohol.”

That’s right, Johnny. And you WON’T see any either, if I have anything to say about it. The chocohol is all for me……………….okay maybe just a little for fellow chocoholic Jessica.

UltraMom the Addict

This has been a pretty good day. Jimbo is still around, so all of us are happy: me, Murphy and Rowdy. They will be increasingly sad when they are inevitably left alone much more than they have become used to.
Poor UltraDad is pretty much stuck in Ruby Valley and this week is working the night shift patrolling roads for snow or drifting. He is missing Jim time, but I think we will try to make the Ruby Valley trek this weekend if he can’t make it out by then.
I was recently able to view an Ultrasound photo of my fledgling grandson, and was amazed to actually be able to make out head, hair and features. Ultra refuses, however, to reveal his name, and claims they will call him “Voldemort”, but I must say “He who must not be named.”
I had my second day of school for the new semester. I am taking a Certified Nurse’s Aid class just to see if nursing might possibly be a direction I want to take. More than half the students in the class already work at Highland Manor, the nursing home where we will be doing clinicals. It is a little alarming hearing them talk about some of their patients, particularly those on “100”, the Alzheimer’s unit. But I have decided to stick it out, and I think it will be good for me and provide valuable experience even if I decide (as I suspect I will) to NOT continue down that road. My Drugs in Society class will be interesting I think. It will be a bit problematic as I will not physically be able to attend classes very often since I am working at the time they are held. But the teacher is willing to work with me and meet with me, and I have the class Syllabus. A handout showed pictures of brains after they had been exposed to various drugs, including alcohol. It was a poor, rather grainy copy, but many of the drug-brains rather resembled Swiss cheese, As poorly as my brain and memory function NOW, I shudder to think what I would be like if I had ingested large quantities of cocaine and marijuana. I am also taking Tai Chi just because I have long wanted to learn it. This class is held at the Senior Center, and it takes me about 5 minutes to drive there from the college. It is rather a large class, and seems to be full of senior citizens, if you can imagine. And yes, I know what you are thinking, and no, I am not myself a senior citizen, at least not yet. One helpful thing I learned in my CNA class today is that age demographics and classifications have recently been changed. Young adulthood is now age 18-40, and middle age is 40-65. Jim claims this was done by old people to make them feel better about themselves, but I maintain it is because we are living longer, healthier lives. Hopefully I will like Tai Chi. The instructor seems knowledgeable, but he spent half our time today just talking.
I was able to get home in time to have lunch with my son, and since I didn’t have to work, was able to have an afternoon nap, a rare luxury. Tonight we went out to Chen’s, the local Chinese Restaurant with sis-in-law Pat, and had a very nice time. Afterwards I inveigled Jim into a little game of Casino, my new favorite card game. That was when we received the phone call from Tennessee.
It was Johnny and he had some great news. His team, consisting of himself and Mr. Goldman (what is his first name, Johnny?) had just gotten the news that they had won their semi-final match and would be advancing to the finals in the Moot Court Competition at Vanderbilt Law School. This is a very big deal. I think they start with 30 or more teams, and your team must win a lot of competitions to get this far. You must argue your case in front of judges, and must represent the side you are assigned, which can change with each competition. I believe it always involves a First Amendment right. Feel free, Johnny, to correct all my inaccuracies as well as add further enlightenment.
Jim is heading to Nashville to spend a week or two with Johnny very soon, and he will be able to attend this final competition; I am, of course, very jealous.
So join me in wishing this very bright, articulate law school student moot court team the best of luck, lack of nervousness and soundness of speech for February 8th, and stay tuned for a special announcement of results.

Proud UltraMom

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. Again. I guess we’ve got to accept that this will be the pattern of UltraMom posting, despite my numerous promises to do better. Anyway, I’m here now, and it’s time for a little segment I like to call “A Day in the Life of UltraMom.” (Wed, Jan 16, 2008)
I awakened early, as usual, and as usual of late, went back to bed where I alternately dozed, played Yahtzee on my new hand held game,(courtesy of sis-in-law, Pat) or progressed in my current, recommended-by-Johnny-read, Tai-Pan. When the pups and I finally did venture from the bedroom, we found Jimbo, my current much-welcome houseguest, at the computer and fully dressed, apparently having risen an hour or so ago.
Signature Ultramom Sidenote and Digression: Jim is inbetween employments right now, and had arrived last Saturday in Ruby Valley, which was also my destination for the day. UltraDad has been unable to leave his little hideaway for several reasons, the chief of which is the weather. The second reason is that his work crew is a little short-handed for the present, and somebody has got to be able to plow snow and maintain the roads in these very wintry conditions. I actually arrived after Jim, as I stopped and shopped, bringing with me a bucket of KFC, courtesy of Uncle Dave and Aunt Jane’s generous Christmas gift certificate. Sunday morn, Jimbo and UltraDad left to do a little rabbit hunting. I had already filled my quota on the roads, so I opted not to go. I know that sounds bad, but the rabbits are so incredibly thick that they are impossible to miss as they dash back and forth across the road, seemingly intent on committing suicide. If I swerve to miss, I’m as likely to hit as if I’d kept on going straight, and not swerving is a lot safer way to drive on icy roads.) I did an exercise video or two and decided to get the wiggle worms out of Murphy and Rowdy by taking them on a little walk along the highway, after which I planned a nice relaxing bath. What I did NOT plan on is locking myself out of the house. This is not quite as idiotic as it sounds; almost but not quite. The doorknobs on these homes will turn from the inside whether they are locked or not, so it’s very tricky. Of course I had nothing with me. No car key, no cell phone. But fortunately for me, Chick, the guy who lives in the only other inhabited house in this 2-house complex, drove in on the snow plow just about that time. I waited for him to shut her down and climb off, then presented my plight. Without a word, he headed for the time shack, me following behind. He went straight to the key box and began taking some down. Ah, this was good. There was an extra key to the house in there….or was there? There was an extra key to HIS house, lots of keys to the vacant house, and lots of keys to….other stuff, but not to UltraDad’s. It seemed I had three choices. I could wait in the warm time shack, and if I got bored, pick up a broom. I could walk around some more and hope the guys didn’t stay gone too awfully long. Or, I could go to Chick’s house and meet his wife. I selected #3, and put Murphy and Rowdy in my mercifully unlocked car, as I did not think they would like to meet Chick’s four “cat” hunting hounds, cat in this case referring to Mountain Lion. Mary was very nice and offered me a cup of tea. Our conversation was a little strained at first, but before long we were chatting amiably about our daughters’ cats. Before I finished my tea, Chick saw a red pickup pull in next to our house. The hunters were home. They were a little puzzled as to why the dogs were in the car, and the house was locked. I soon enlightened them and strongly suggested to UltraDad that one of his two keys be strategically hidden outdoors. After a lunch of leftover KFC chicken, we sat down to watch The Simpsons movie, and all managed, at various and diverse times, to fall asleep. Jim and I drove back to Carlin on Monday morning after UltraDad went to work.
Okay, back to the present (at least for now). Jimbo had, in a moment of weakness, agreed to build me a storage cupboard for my back hallway. In that area, where two bedrooms and a bathroom converge, is a block of wasted space badly in need of a storage solution. Jim was coming fresh off a cupboard building victory, having just completed a super one for his Aunt Joy’s bedroom. There he had a spacious shop, handy, convenient tools, and occasional uncles for lifting assistance. Here he has the frozen outdoors, scattered, haphazard tools, and a wimpy mom for lifting assistance. Anyway, we needed to go to town to get the rest of the necessary lumber. The kid was in too deep to back out now.
Jim’s little Ford Ranger is a nice ride. Not very new, but very well maintained, and capable of carrying a board or two. We did a few errands first- the campus bookstore for UltraMom to get her remaining texts, the library so Jim could check out the latest Harry Potter book for a reread since Umom had sent her copy to Japan, and a stop for lunch at Chef Chengs, where for $5.50 you can get a choice of three items from such delicacies as steamed rice, Kung Pao Chicken and Beef in Broccoli. You also get noodle appetizers, an egg roll, soup, and for dessert, an orange half and a fortune cookie. After getting groceries and the lumber, we were back home just in time for UltraMom to change her clothes, bid Jim, Murph and Rowd farewell, and head back into Elko to meet her friend at Cowboy Joe’s. She and Peggy had met in Professor Gonzales’ Political Science class, where they competed for top grades. They had discovered they had much in common, both returning to school after long absences and nearly of an age. It was nice to get together and compare schedules and talk about the world at large, while sipping on Chai Tea and Mocha Frapacino. Unfortunately, no classes in common this upcoming semester. We chatted for nearly two hours; then it was off to Weightwatchers for Ultramom, where she led an awesome, inspirational meeting of 50 or so members, including 11 first timers.
Okay, truth to tell, it is now actually the next day, the next evening to be precise. I just couldn’t finish this yesterday, and the only thing that prevents me from putting if off until tomorrow, is the mindboggling logistics of trying to keep all the time sequences in their proper order and tense. Right now, sitting in my living room, is a nearly completed storage cupboard. It is going to be every bit as wonderful as I had imagined. And now, I am off to bed, visions of spare clothing, paper files and Christmas decorations dancing in my head.

UltraMom

UltraBob and UltraGirl probably saved my life last night, or at least my toes. One of their Christmas gifts of chemical “foot warmers’ helped me ward off possible frostbite and/or uncomfortably cold toes at my Tuesday night Weight Watcher meeting. I have been meaning to write a lengthy heart felt thank you to them for the fun and thoughtful Christmas box, and decided, while enjoying my nice warm feet, to make my thanks public in the form of an inimitable UltraMom post.
Two large boxes arrived a week or more before Christmas. The gifts were wrapped in stylish silver and white paper, each with a witty to-from tag attached. Also included was a wide assortment of pouched culinary delights, such as hashed beef, Japanese curry, and 8 kinds of vegetables and egg. The microwave rice had my name on it, but I shared anyway; I’m just that kind of person, when threatened. Johnny and Jim had great fun divvying up the spoils.
One of my favorite parts of gifts from the Ultras is reading the tags, presumably written by UltraBob when he has been staying up way too late and is on some sort of mind enhancing substance, such as green tea. As I type this, I am wearing a warm, soft, pretty robe. I love it, and it has pretty much relegated my other robe to a permanent post on the hook behind the bathroom door. The tag that accompanied this great gift read “To Mom, for your pro-wrestling debut. From Bob, Tomoko and Tomoko Jr.” I have arranged a few matches, but so far the poodles always win. Another of my gifts proclaimed: To Mom. Everything you need is right here in this box. ..Disclaimer: This box may not contain sufficient items to meet all of your requirements. From Bob, Tomo and Cadbury” Inside: Green Tea, A mesh bag for “washing your delicates. Place in the bag, zipper it up and toss in the washing machine. NOT dryer safe; may or may not be microwave safe.” AND “Foot Warmers!!! Stick to the bottom of your socks after unwrapping. You can also stick on before unwrapping, but you’ll have to use your own tape. It’ll make crinkly noises and will not put out heat until you wear a hole in the wrapper.” When I got home from work, wearing my stylish, heeled boots, my toes were very cold. Since I wanted to continue wearing said boots that went so well with my outfit, until my WW meeting was over, I elected to take a pair of foot warmers out of the wrapper, stick them to the bottom of my socked toes, replace my not so well insulated boots and enjoy the instant warmth. They work great!
I don’t really remember what everyone else got. Heather and Heath’s gifts got sent on to them, unopened. I seem to remember Jim getting a cool umbrella that he “can open in the house, because in Japan it’s not bad luck” and Johnny getting some of his favorite chips in stick form. UltraDad got a cool “Happy” coffee mug. When wrapped first in newspaper and then gift-wrap, it was easy to see why the tag read, “To Dad; Hope you enjoy this small ham as a token of our esteem. From Bob, Tomoko and Wilfred.” I do know that on each tag, the unborn Ultra got to try out a different moniker. I’m really hoping they have come up with some better ideas by now, frankly.
Anyway, UltraKids, a very heartfelt and belated thank you for making our Christmas so special. While not the same as having you with us, while opening your very personal and thoughtful gifts, we felt very close to you.
Love,
UltraMom

PS A special thanks to UltraBob for writing so much of this post for me.

It's MY robe! You can't have it.

I think someone likes his snacks.

UltraDad gets some help. I think Murphy and Rowdy were disappointed there was not actually a “ham” in there.

“Time for a stroll in the park.”

“My favorites!”

January 1, 2008

Happy birthday, UltraBob! Of course I know that January 5th was actually yesterday in Japan, so I thought about you on that day as well. It seems like only yesterday I was writing a post to commemorate your 31st birthday, but it was actually yesterday and a year ago.
I know this is where I am supposed to wax nostalgic and tell you all how wonderful UltraBob is and what a great job we did raising him, etc, etc, but I’m just not in the mood. Besides, I’m not sure we did all that well.
Lets go back to the beginning and see if we can figure out what went wrong…..
First of all, there are the scars, one under each armpit. I have no issue with the reason for the incisions. After all, breathing without turning blue is a basic right that should be denied to no man or infant. But you would think a surgeon, someone whose living involves knives and precise cutting, could have made them somewhat symmetrical. And so, the doctor must bear part of the blame of the trauma leading up to….
the pacifier! The addiction to the big, ugly, bulbous pacifier without which there would be no peace in the house, let alone sleeping by any of the inhabitants. If the adored object was out of sight, (usually having been thrown on the floor by the young prince himself and covered with lint and dog hair), a predictable sequence would ensue. First the lip would quiver, and the howling would begin, first softly and jerkily, steadily rising to an admirable crescendo. No distractions could entice the young Ultra from his single mindedness. If the physical locality was such that washing the debris off the pacifier was not possible, the grossest and most removable lint was removed before poor half-crazed UltraMom shoved the offending article back into its receptacle. In the next scene, baby UltraBobby would be noisily sucking, content for at least 1/2 minute until he got bored and decided to play the retriever game once again with the highly teachable UltraMom.
This was only the beginning. Once UltraMom proved she could fetch the pacifier, he decided to move on to throwing toys out of the playpen, and food from the high chair tray. A little fist pounding and a few screams were usually sufficient incentive to sharpen UltraMom’s fetching abilities.
Some kids have great capacity for entertaining themselves. UltraBob did not. I had to be close at hand to help with and admire block towers, pull the string on See and Say toys and listen to the rooster and pig, and read “Jim Jump” and “The Saggy Baggy Elephant” ad nauseum. He also quite liked “I’m a Big Boy Now” that featured the potty training of Elmer the Elephant and his graduation to training pants and big boy underwear, but seemed to enjoy the concept more than the actual practice.
The growing UltraBob soon became a big brother 3 times over. He ( and UltraMom) enjoyed the company of the younger siblings. No longer must she be the constant companion, but now the arbitrator. As eldest, UB felt everyone should play his games, his way. The others did not always agree.
Of course, I was not the perfect parent. Just a year ago, my oldest son informed me that I was responsible for his having to relabel all of his Nirvana cassettes. “I don’t remember that,” I responded confusedly. “How did I do that?
“You told me to get rid of them,” he answered coolly. “So I had to change the names on all my Nirvana tapes. ‘Surprise’ became my new favorite band.”
So, UltraReaders, there you have it. Not the usual, feel-good birthday piece , but a little slice of the truth…. kind of. And the result is what you see: UltraBob the 32 year old man, soon to be a parent himself. Smart, funny, a little short tempered, but ultimately patient and considerate. Come to think of it, maybe we didn’t do such a bad job after all. Happy Birthday, Honey.

Love you,
UltraMom

I love long holidays, especially when days off combine with weekends to create stretches of closed offices and suspension of life as usual. I always have a list of things I should be doing, calls I should be making and WW meetings I should be preparing for. So all of these things get put on hold with only a modicum of guilt. Never mind that I could and should have done them weeks ago. Now, at least for a little while, I am unable to do them and can decadently sleep in, eat junk and avoid all manner of constructive thinking or activities. To further aid in my indolence, I have a couple of kids around for a limited time, and want to spend as much time with them as possible. True, I do a bit more cookery and laundering than in my normal, to all intensive purposes, state of living alone , but we have finally reached an understanding wherein they will play pinochle, canasta and cribbage with me until one of us simply cannot take any more. Add to that a little TV and a few outings for shopping, dining and movies, and hopefully it is a nice break for all of us, and about as far removed from my normal routine as can be imagined.

Of course it would not be possible or even desirable to live this way all the time, but I think I could stand it for another, say month or two. Unfortunately for me, I get less than two more days.

Lazy and loving it,

UltraMom

My boys are home! Well, at least two of them are. Johnny and Jim came rolling in about 3 P.M. to much excitement and barking from the dogs…and me too, I must admit. Out of the back of Jim's little Ford Ranger came suitcases, backpacks, Jim's luxurious fold-out camp bed and newspaper wrapped gifts. Also, much to my supposed glee, there was a large, Santa-Claus-pack sized bag of laundry.
Unfortunately, UltraDad is in Ruby Valley for the weekend, but has garnered some nice overtime plowing snow. With any cooperation from the weather, he should be home tomorrow afternoon to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas with us.
“Get me your rubbing alcohol,” Johnny commanded within the first 5 minutes. Uh oh. Another ear infection, which he self-medicates with this common household item. At least it is common in most households; in mine there was none to be found. So we all trooped to the store. Rubbing alcohol plus impulse purchases = $35.00.

Home again, we got ready to watch Boise State play East Carolina in the Hawaii Bowl. “Pinky, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”
“I think so Brain, but perhaps East Carolina and West Carolina are some of those lesser known states…”
Anyway, that's how MY mind works. Apparently it's just the name of a University in one of the legitimate Carolinas.

We opened bags of chips and dip, bottles of soda, and UltraMom prepared to make the promised 'taco salad', which contrary to what 'salad' implies does not actually contain fruits or vegetables other than avocado. She browned the ground beef and rummaged through the appropriate drawer for the taco seasoning. If anyone had asked her, she would have bet $100 that she had taco seasoning. She would have lost the bet. Another trip to the store, and the obligatory impulse purchase of eggnog.
Judging by the small quantity of taco salad remaining after Jim and Johnny finished gorging, it was a success. Less successful was Boise State in the Hawaii Bowl. They scored a touchdown and point after to tie up the game in the last two minutes, then lost when East Carolina was able to score a last second Field Goal. Too Bad.
As I mentioned, Murphy and Rowdy were very glad to see their long lost brothers, and had to let off some steam by having, as I like to call it, a “Poodle War,” wrestling and tackling each other. Johnny commented that they seemed to be spending more time sneezing than fighting. “Time out,” he ad libbed for Murphy. “Let me get my inhaler.”

My Christmas Cantata went very well. We sang it in Carlin; then traveled to the little Methodist church in Battle Mountain and sang it again. Here we were treated to a wonderful soup & salad potluck lunch. I think all of us were a little hoarse, and our choir director nearly lost her voice all together before it was over. I just wish some of my family had been able to experience it, as it was very beautiful and meaningful.

I'm sorry my favorite daughter Heather ,my favorite oldest son UltraBob and favorite daughter in law Tomoko can't be here to celebrate this holiday with us. I have been coaching UltraBob lately on the finer points of cooking a holiday dinner, and I hope he will write a post to tell us how it went.
Anyway, its past UltraMom's bedtime, so I'll bid you all a fond goodnight and a very good Christmas.

UltraMom

UltraMom here, and as we all know, “Tis the season.” Just 3-4 more days til Christmas, depending on whether you count the little bit left that is today or not. It seems that the older I get the faster this season comes around again, but that is a common complaint of the age-enhanced. Of course there are aspects of the season that I enjoy: most notably getting to spend time with family members I don’t often see. I enjoy all the Christmas lights, and even put a string of white lights up myself around the railing of my little front porch to welcome me as I arrive home from work after dark. I enjoy some of the Christmas songs, and I will enjoy singing the Christmas Cantata at church. I enjoy the sugar cookies I make once a year (I actually enjoy those TOO much), and who doesn’t like getting presents? But of course, sometimes it all just seems like too much. There’s the pressure of sending cards, purchasing gifts, all the “Are you ready for Christmas?” and crowded stores and frantic, weary shoppers. There is the obligatory guilt that I have so much and so many people have so little, and the fact that I’m not doing anything about it. And the let down feeling once it is all over and the kids have gone back to their own lives and the world is ordinary and orderly once more.
This year has been especially difficult for me, as blessed as I am compared to many, many others. I had some stressful things happen at work, plus the busyness of school. UltraDad is now living some 80 miles away now, so that has been an adjustment. But the season is unrelenting and marches ahead whether I am ready or not, so I have had no choice but to get ready after a fashion. UltraDad helped me assemble my “tree” and string the lights on, and I managed to get the decorations on over a several day period and it looks very nice and festive. Gradually, the rest of the obligatory Christmas ornamentation spread to the rest of the house. The baking got done, the cards written and the packages mailed. Some, but not all of the shopping is done.
And I am ready for some company to enjoy it all with me. Hurry home, Johnny and Jim.

UltraMom

PS Congratulations Chenoa and Mike on a beautiful new baby girl: Rowan Jerry Allen. Drive safely, Pat, as you travel to meet your granddaughter.

Ha, ha, wasn’t that funny? A post on Johnny’s birthday that ended up being all about my childhood dog. Ha, ha. But of course, that was just the teaser. I pretended I couldn’t think of anything to write about Johnny, but we all know that in actuality I have a literal storehouse of amusing and embarrassing incidents about him on which to draw.

When he is “on” and in the right mood, there is no one more fun to be around, or even just to talk to on the phone. If I’m having a bad or just lonely day and he calls me, I always end up feeling better, even though he usually spends the bulk of the conversation either talking nonsense or making fun of me. I guess that’s because I know that under that superior, “you are dumb as a rock” exterior, I know he really loves me and is proud of me. One time we were having a conversation on “women and women’s rights”, a topic he knows can push my buttons. He was blathering on about a woman’s place and how it says in the Bible that women aren’t as smart as men, etc., etc. I said “It doesn’t say all that in MY Bible.” “Well, it’s in mine,” he said smugly. “I wrote it in.” Okay, perhaps just a bit blasphemous, but funny.
This is one thing I really like about Johnny and try to think about in my own life: Once I asked him if he missed someone or some place…can’t quite remember what it was. He said something to the effect that he didn’t miss things when he wasn’t around them. I know he didn’t say it this way, but my translation: He just was where he was, living in that moment of time. Sometimes easier said than done, but I’m trying to do that more.
The kid was very popular tonight. I had to wait til he finished talking to Dad, Heather and Jim before I could get my turn on the phone. And, yes, talking to him made me smile.
Happy Birthday, Johnny. Hurry home for Christmas.

Love you,
UltraMom

Go Johnny, it’s your birthday! Yes, TODAY, not yesterday, not tomorrow, not a week ago last Tuesday. Today…… yep your birthday….hope it’s a good one….um, let’s see what can I say? Good ol’ December 12th…Ah, I’ve got it! Do you know that you share a birthday with a very famous “person?” That’s right, December 12th was also Smokey’s birthday!
Smokey was a very important personage in my life for a space of 10 years or so. Just a fat, little brown dog, which makes me wonder now why we gave him a name more descriptive of a smoke-gray cat, but no matter. He was the dog we always wanted growing up, and I was in high school when we finally got him. My mother always said when we were younger that “If we get a dog, I will be the one to clean up after it.” And I’m happy to say, when she finally relented to our pet-less pleas, she kept her promise.
She was adamant about the breed. Purebreds were too high strung. Later she told us she arbitrarily named “Chihuhua-terrior” because she thought it would be a hard mix to find. Panther found puppies listed in the paper the very next day.
Smokey established his territory and personality early in life. His bed was a laundry basket with a red cushion inside. We called it his “little red beddy.” Though we kids were the ones who worshipped at his 13 black and 3 pink toenails, he, in turn lavished his adoration on our parents. Daddy was the authority figure who could make Smokey skittering into the aforementioned red beddy at the slightest note of displeasure. Mommy was different; he would follow her around, making whiny little whimpers until she finally gave in and sat down to make a lap for him to sit on. Us kids were okay for going on walks or playing. He loved to grab onto a plastic jump rope and would hang on for dear life while we whirled him around in the air, dangling like a chubby little sausage on a string. At us he could be grouchy, growling and occasionally biting. Still we loved him.

And so, a very successful birthday post, don’t you think? So happy birthday Smok….er I mean Johnny. And many, many more.

UltraMom, the pet lover

Go, Jimbo, it’s your birthday. Okay, actually YESTERDAY, Dec 8th was the actual birthday, but “Go, Jimbo, yesterday was your birthday,” just doesn’t have the same pizzaz, so just pretend I wrote this yesterday, okay?
I always feel a little grumpy and wistful when I don’t get to be with this little guy on his special day, which these days is more often than not. But I hear he had a very nice celebration in Howe with his extended family of uncles and aunts, with a scrumptious dinner and birthday cake. I don’t know if it’s due to his extraordinary parents or to some sort of other-worldly cosmic forces, but this kid has grown up to be responsible, resourceful, intelligent, caring, handsome, and a heck of a lot of fun to be around. I actually suspect that the extraordinary man Jim has grown up to be has less to do with his very ordinary parents and more to do with his own personal moral compass, work ethic and growing perception of the world and his place in it. And by now Jim, if he ever reads this, is scratching his head at this esoteric analysis. After all, he reminds me when asked to critique my poetry, he is a more literal, ‘Casey at the Bat’ kind of guy. And this kind honesty and simplicity is another of his virtues. Anyway, it is hard to believe my baby is now 24. At THAT age, I was already the mother of two, knee deep in diapers, baby food and baby talk. And while I am greatly anticipating grandchildren, and enjoyed my own children very much through all of their phases, I would not want to go back to that time. At least most of the time I wouldn’t.
While I’m reminiscing, let’s go back to a more recent past, say a year ago. Heather and I had just attended a very important wedding and were having the time of our lives in Japan. UltraBob informs me that after a large, whirlwind dose of UltraMom and Heather, Japan will never be the same! I hope it’s not too different, because I enjoyed it very much. Of course one thing will be very different next time I visit: UltraBob and UltraGirl will be parents, and I a Grandmother, which seems so strange and wonderful.
Getting closer to the present, let’s go back only a day in time, and you will have UltraMom and Pat’s trip to Ruby Valley. UltraDad is enjoying living in remote, beautiful Ruby Valley and enjoying his new job with the state highway department. Winter being what winter is, a lot of his duties in this season will involve plowing snow. This he has started doing, though still being a rookie, he is required to have a more experience worker on board as he learns. He even garnered some overtime Friday and Saturday, which meant he could not come to Carlin for the weekend. And so, armed with groceries, clean clothes and other necessities, UltraMom, Pat, Murphy and Rowdy drove up to his place. We anticipated unloading, putting away and heading back home, but happily, UltraDad was there, having gotten off work only an hour earlier. He was very happy to have more supplies, as well as to see us, and we stayed for 3-4 hours playing cards and just visiting. When we left, I had a giant bag of dirty clothes to keep me busy, but of course laundry, as Jim well knows, is one of my favorite ways to occupy my time!
Today I went to church in Carlin for the first time in a long time, and sang in the choir. I even got to practice for the Christmas Cantata which we will be performing during the service on the morning of Dec 23rd. And now I am writing a post to put off writing a final essay for my political science class, which is due at midnight tonight.
I wish some of Jimbo’s work ethic, intelligence and resourcefulness would rub off on me.

UltraMom, Procrastinator of the year

Okay, its time to stop feeling sorry for myself and pull myself up by the old bootstraps. That’s one of those old sayings; you know the kind that you’re not all that sure what it means, except that you’re pretty sure its wise and should apply to your current life situation. Anyway, I think it means I should just get over it and get on with it, or as Johnny would say, “Quit whining and start shining.”
To that end, I wrote an awesome song (tune only) for my Music Class. Next week we will write the harmony and that will be our Final. My spirit will be crushed if my teacher doesn’t like it, but I can’t imagine THAT happening.
I talked to UltraDad tonight, and he plowed snow half of the night last night. He said he plows with someone else for the present; I’m not sure if that means they are both in the same snowplow, or if there are two snowplows working together, but I’m sure that soon he will be a snowplowing expert, making the roads safer for wintertime drivers.
My poodles made sure I got out of the house today. They whine and look pointedly at their leashes and make me feel I would be a terrible person and a terribly irresponsible pet owner if I refused to take them for a “walk” (actually, in Rowdy’s case, more like a lunging gallop.) Once at the Park, I usually turn them loose in the semi-confines of a sports field and let them run. In the end, it always turns into some sort of running-tackling-wrestling game, which makes me smile for several reasons. First, because they are so funny, and secondly because I am calculating all the energy they are expending. This means they will be ready for an afternoon nap, and I will feel less guilty about leaving them for 5 hours while I go to work.
At work, one of my inmate workers told me how much he and several others appreciate the efforts I make on their behalf, ie working unusual hours on occasion, trying to bring in new store items for a little variety and treating them like human beings. A little appreciation always makes me feel better. You too, I’ll bet. Another thing: we got in some new frozen egg rolls, which are handed out in tandem with a paper wrapper for microwave heating. The guys started just handing out the paper wrapper at first. As the ‘customer stared at it quizzically they would explain that this WAS the egg roll, and it would ‘blow up’ (or expand) when heated in the microwave for ten minutes. Then after a good laugh, they would hand out the real thing. Their enjoyment was contagious.
Tomorrow I will make a trek up to Ruby Valley to bring in supplies for the intrepid snowplow operator. I will work on my Political Science essay and study for next week’s test. Maybe I will even swamp out the house, drag in boxes of Christmas decorations and embark on the annual cookie making marathon.
Maybe…but we all know better. After all, we are talking about UltraMom, the procrastinator extraordinaire.

Wishing you some laughter and appreciation of your own,
UltraMom

Has my life ever changed! It used to revolve around UltraDad’s work schedule, and mostly involved meals: make sure his breakfast and supper are ready on time and pack his lunch every day (or night). When he worked days, I got up with him at 5:00 A.M.
Now he lives 80 miles away and, presumably, takes care of his own meals. And I haven’t actually cooked a meal since he left.
I think he is really enjoying his job, and I think he is enjoying living in a more remote area. I think he’s plowing snow tonight. People ask me if I’m “moving to Ruby Valley”. People ask me if he “usually comes here on weekends.” I tell them we haven’t been doing this long enough to have a “usually.” And no, I do not plan on moving to Ruby Valley, at least not now. Truth to tell, I have no idea what I would DO there.
But enough about UltraDad; what is going on in MY life, you ask? I am nearly done with my first semester of “back to college.” I have really enjoyed Poli Sci and have muddled through online Music. I’ll let you know the final verdict after finals next week. I had tea in the cafeteria after our last onsite class today with Peggy, a fellow student who is nearly my age. It was so interesting; our lives parallel each other’s in so many ways. Both of us were returning to school and had originally gone for 1 1/2 years. Both had 4 kids nearly the same ages. We exchanged emails and phone numbers, and I hope we will keep in touch.
I am trying to catch up on my routine end-of-the-year medical procedures. Wednesday I had a fun colonoscopy and will have the mammogram next week. The colonoscopy, my first ever, was actually not too bad, and the results were unremarkable, which is good.
I am still working at the prison store 4 afternoons a week. We just got in some new frozen products: Cheeseburgers, Polish Sausages, Eggrolls and Ranch Dip, so that is very exciting for all concerned.
I have decided to take a Certified Nurses Aid class next semester to see if nursing might possibly be a good career choice for me.
Mostly, the ‘boys’ and I are adjusting to being alone. There is definitely more time to be self indulgent, which I am. And more time to self reflect, which I do. And more time to get things done, which, at least for now, I am not. But I am trying to get back to posting. Perhaps the rest will follow.

Mildly-depressed-but-I’ll-get-over-it

UltraMom

I hadn’t realized it before, but sister in law Kathy helped me see that we are living the life of the rich and famous. First, there is my Carlin house, located in a (semi) gated community. I mean, I DO have to open a gate to access my front yard, and hence the front door. Then there is our house out in the (Howe) countryside, which,currently, is being let out. Last, and perhaps least is our Mountain Get-Away nestled between two similar houses in the transportation yard in the far away Ruby Mountains. Are you jealous yet?
UltraDad’s new job with the NevadaDepartmentOfTransportation (NDOT) requires that he reside in the mountain home. UltraMom’s job, school and, questionably, her sanity require that she mostly reside a little closer to civilization.
The weekend before Thanksgiving, UltraMom, Dad, Johnny, Jimbo and Jessica spent a few days in Emmett at the lovely home of Panther and JohnRyder. Besides having a great time together, we also managed to have some much-needed work done on my car and purchase a new-used refrigerator for Udad’s new home. My car was ready sooner than expected, so UltraMom was able to head back to Nevada for a couple of days of work/school, while UDad went straight to Howe for early visiting and to pack up a little furniture and whatnot. He seemed a little edgy for part of the holiday, and I’m sure it was anticipation and nervousness about starting a new job and getting the house ready for habitation.
UltraMom had driven the old Taurus to it’s new home at Heather’s house the day before Thanksgiving. She got to see Heather and Heath’s new residence, play Guitar Hero until her hands were both numb, and spend the night on their very comfortable couch. Another interesting aspect of that evening was paying a visit to Heath’s Dad, Don and significant other, Marsha, who live in the upstairs counterpart to Heath and Heather’s basement home. Don works for the US Post Office repairing their equipment in various locations. He had been out to the Howe Post Office very recently. The house was full of his collections and Marsha’s cooking and needlework. Most notably, Don collects old (antique) record players, of which he has three, and old records, of which he has over 200. Even more notable and noticeable were the clocks. I think he said there were 40 or so, ranging from Grandfather clocks to table top or hanging clocks, all ticking and all chiming on the hour, not always at exactly the same time. It was fascinating listening to Don and Marsha talk about their passions and interests. Heath looks and sounds eerily like his Dad, and happily, everyone (Heath, Heather, Don, Marsha, Callie, Rocky and Nimbus) gets along pretty well.
Okay, back to UDad and the house. Saturday morning found UltraMom and Dad, with Dad’s pickup packed to the gills, heading back to Nevada. Sunday found them heading to Ruby Valley after also loading up UltraMom’s car and stopping for groceries.
Pat had arrived before us, having spent the night at sister, Kathy’s. From Kathy’s to home, Ruby Valley was on the way, and Pat had a few of John’s things in HER pickup. I’m really glad she was there; she was an enormous help getting the fridge in the house. She and John ended up having to take the doors off the fridge so it would fit through the front door. She stayed for lunch and a little more unpacking, and then she was off.
Now the fun began. UltraMom scrubbed out the fridge and cleaned countertops. She gave UltraDad the choice of cleaning the bathroom or washing out the kitchen cupboards. “Bathroom, of course,” said UltraDad. UltraMom, surprised and pleased, had been sure he would make HER do the bathroom. By the time she finished washing out umpteen jillion cupboards, the pleasure had pretty much evaporated. There was just enough energy left to vacuum and carpet clean the living room area and UDad’s bedroom, and help set up the bed kindly donated by Pat. Sometime in the midst of the unpacking, UDad realized he had brought plenty of underwear, socks and jeans but not a single shirt. Also missing was 1/2 of the coffeemaker. But he had a table and chairs and a bed, and had cleverly brought along the camp lounger received from the kids for Christmas a couple of years back. He also had a phone. Seeing him settled in, UltraMom headed back home to begin her own week.

Next time: First Week on the Job

After hosting Thanksgiving dinner in Carlin, NV for the past two years, the venue was moved to Howe, ID, where UltraMom and Dad used to live (for 30 years or so). Of course, a great time was had by all, with the added luxury for UltraMom of not cooking a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, pies, or anything else, for that matter. The roll call for dinner at Bill and Patty’s on Thanksgiving Day:
Howe Residents
Bill (UDad’s brother) and Patty
Chuck (UDad’s other brother) and Joy
Tom Kime, longtime friend of family
Corey and Jessica, friends of Bill and Patty’s
Residents of other Places:
Colorado: Kayce, Patty’s daughter
Carlin, NV: UltraMom, Dad, Murphy and Rowdy
Carlin, NV: Pat, (UDad’s sister)
Pocatello, ID: Heather, UltraMom and Dad’s daughter
Idaho Falls, ID: Jimbo, son (the baby)
Nashville, TN: Johnny, that snobby law school student
Idaho Falls, ID: Chenoa (Pat’s daughter), and Mike
Cheyenne, WY: Billie (Pat’s son) and Brandi, as well as their nephew Daltin and Niece Kiana
Boise, ID: Nicki (Bill’s daughter) and Chad

So, how many were going to St Ives, or Thanksgiving dinner? I count 22.
Some of us stayed with the Howites, (UltraMom and Dad, Johnny, Jimbo, Pat, Nicki and Chad, Kayce and Heather for one night) while others just came out for the day (Mike and Chenoa) or got motel rooms in nearby towns(Billie and Brandi)
Lots of pinochle was played with various and sundry partners, and one night Umom managed to get up going games of Catchphrase, Chronology and Cranium. Of course all was accompanied by lots of snacking.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, the much anticipated football game was played in Bill and Patty’s yard. The football field was a little short, with friendlier goal-running topography on one end, so all new plays originated from the other end. UltraMom had planned to capture the game cinematically as she had in years past , but in the end, was needed to even up the teams and provide a counterpoint for 8 year old Daltin. It went something like this:Nephew Billie: “Okay, whoever picks Daltin, the other team has to take Aunt Kathy. I choose Jim.” The final teams were: Billie, Jim, Nicki and Daltin against Mike, Chad, Johnny and UltraMom. Billie’s brainiac play mainly consisted of hurling the ball into the end zone where Jim would elbow opponents out of the way and catch the pass for a TD. Nickie was no slouch, though, and made her fair share of catches and TD’s. Daltin even had a few. They were no match however for team UltraMom. Umom herself managed to elude the persistent Daltin to score a TD or two. Gotta admit, though, mostly it was the combined skills of her teammates who wracked up the narrow victory.
Actually, a much better game than the Boise State-Hawaii game turned out to be.
All in all, a good time with family, which is what the holiday is all about.

UltraMom, home for the holidays

Next Time: UltraDad moves into his new digs.

Ok, I just got royally reamed out by one of my sons (yeah, the middle one) because he had not been informed of this momentous occasion in UltraDad’s life. Hoping to forestall further offspring censures, I breathlessly bring you “UltraDad’s New Job”.
I’m sure you know, unless you just happened upon this post by chance, perhaps by doing a search for, oh…say…”offspring”, UltraDad really hates his job driving a huge truck at a local gold mine. And, no, he cannot bring home samples. Although he gets seven days off in a row once a month, the rest of the time his schedule is hellacious, alternating between some crazy formulas of 12 hour (14 if you count travel time) day and night shifts. About a month ago, he had the opportunity to interview for a highway maintenance job in Ruby Valley, a remote place about an hour away. A week ago last Friday, I returned home from a weekend away to find a message on the old answering machine: he got the job! UltraDad was off hunting, and unreachable by phone, so I left a message with his nearby sister. By the following Friday, he had passed his drug screening and given his notice at the mine.
This job will require some adjustments in our life style. For one thing, UDad will be living, most of the time, in a house provided for him (rent: $50/month plus utilities) in Ruby Valley, and I will be living here, at least for the time being. It is a remote area with only a few houses. UDad will be working only days, unless he has to plow some emergency snow. He will probably get more job satisfaction. He will also get less money.
But he is over the moon with excitement and relief, which is a far superior state to the chronic depression I had seen him in for the past two years (with the exception of when he’s going hunting, of course).
His last day at the mine is Nov 18th, and his first day of highway work is Nov 26th, which will work out well with our planned trip to Howe for Thanksgiving.
So, there you have it. No saying I didn’t tell you. The funny thing (to me) was that Johnny was not upset with his Dad for not telling him about his new job. No, it was UltraMom who got the blame. After all, poor UltraDad is technologically challenged, and apparently incapable of using his cell phone unless he needs to find me in Walmart.
Your one the scene reporter, UltraMom

PS. Heather, I know you read these posts. I really need to figure out how to get this Taurus to you. I’m planning to drive it to Howe for Thanksgiving. Dad and Aunt Pat are driving pickups to bring some stuff back to furnish Dad’s new home. Are you and Heath both coming to Howe for Thanksgiving, so one of you could drive the Taurus back? Or do we need to meet you somewhere, or plan a stop in Pocatello? Answer by comment. Or, as a last resort, call me.

If you are still reading this blog, you are indeed loyal readers and I commend (or question you?) on persevering through times of plentiful blogging and times of blog famine, through insightful and cleverly humorous observations and blogs full of incoherent raving and self-pity. And truthfully, I’m not quite sure which category this one is going to fit into. It occurred to me, recently, that my ramblings are rather like an episode of “The Simpsons.” They might all start off with Homer, Marge, Bart and Lisa (and sometimes Maggie) off on a family vacation, and before you know it, Lisa is running for President, Bart is manufacturing and selling T-shirts and Homer is….well you never know what that crazy guy is going to do, do you? Anyway, you get the point. I sometimes have an idea or where I want to go, but invariably get lost in twists and turns along the way.
I had a nice weekend in Emmett with my sister, Panther and my new brother in law John….hmmn…too many “John’s” in the family already. He needs a pithy Ultra name…………maybe UltraRyder? (cause that’s his last name, and he does like to ride bikes and motorcycles.) Anyway, I got to be spoiled and got to spend a lot of sister quality time, which was what I needed. Bonus was getting to spend time with a favorite niece, (Ultra)Linda, who tells me, though I doubt this can be true, that she will graduate from college this year. UltraRyder replaced a headlight on my car, gave me produce from his impressive garden, and washed my car for me. With Panther, I walked, talked, shopped and cooked. With all of them I ate, played ping pong, went to church and watched baseball. The ‘boys’ got to come along; I think it was Rowdy’s first visit. They were pretty good, and did NOT provoke the evil dachshund Anya, who tried to kill them each in turn. They did bark, just a little bit at Fatz, the cat.
I arrived home in plenty of time (about 2 1/2 hours) to complete and post a political science assignment to the online ‘bulletin board discussion area.’ In fact, I posted with about 4 minutes to spare. I think it was this exhilarating accomplishment that made me think “What the heck? So what if it’s nearly midnight and I have to get up at 5 am tomorrow. I think I’ll wrote a post.” We are on the Judicial System right now. I’m sure Johnny could have been a lot of help writing this paper if he weren’t so darn lazy and ethical, but no, I had to do it all by myself. Thanks for nothing, Mr. Future Attorney. It was pretty interesting learning about the 1876 controversial Presidential election of Hayes vs Tilden that had, as Bush v Gore did so many years later, a resolution from the US Supreme Court. So far, school is going well, but I’m not sure how I’d handle it if I had more classes and had to actually manage my time better. Maybe next semester I’ll take on a little more. Then again, maybe not…the adrenaline rush is over and I’m flagging. Time for some z’s….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Later….zzzzzzzzzzz.

Up and Down UltraMom

Today, frankly, was a combo productive/head banging type of day for me. I am finally getting on more of an even keel after suddenly losing both of my inmate clerks last week at work. I had worked with these guys for about a year, so it was a big shock to me when they were suddenly packed up and sent to Cedar Prison. Even worse is that I cannot seem to find out what happened. But I have since hired two new guys, and I think they are going to work out okay, though its much harder training two that one. This aspect of my job is always very stressful to me, and kind of “pulls the rug out from under my feet” for a few days or weeks. I’m not supposed to care what happens to these guys, but after working with them daily for such a long time, that is pretty much impossible.
We have a new caseworker at the prison now; before that we were without one for quite some time. In that inbetween time, when I hired a new inmate clerk, I took “kites” (or applications), had officers help me weed them out, conducted interviews of the ones I wanted to talk to, and let the LT know who I wanted to hire. Now it is all “per A.R.” (Administrative Regulation). All job assignments or changes have to go before a committee. This committee consists of the caseworker, an officer, (should be the LT), a rep from NDF (Nevada division of forestry, who is in charge of inmate work crews) and, in this case, me, since I am the one who needs an employee. We sat at a long lunch table in the culinary, and the potentials were asked in one at a time. The CW then proceeded to list a history of their crimes and grill them about current work and attitudes. Much of it seemed to me unnecessarily humiliating. Finally it came time for me to ask my questions, of which there were three: Are you are strong person, whom other people could not influence? (Of course, the answer was always an emphatic “Yes!”) Do you get regular money sent from home, so you are not tempted by what I have in the store? (answers vary from ‘yes’, to “I don’t need much.”) and Are you a hard worker? (they all are). I knew whom I wanted to hire going in, and was relieved when noone had objections to my choices. I was glad to make my escape before they got too far into the process of selecting an “Education clerk” after firing the last one for his inability to keep the restroom clean enough.
I have been thinking lately that maybe it is time for me to seriously start considering a new job/career. I know, some of you are thinking, “Isn’t she a little old for this? Shouldn’t she be thinking about knitting some afghans or something?”The answer to that would be obvious for anyone who had seen me attempt a creative effort of that magnitude, for which I lack both the skill and the stick-to-it-iveness. Or else you are thinking “Aren’t you already doing that? What is this going back to school thing all about?” And yes, I will have to develop some degree of stick-to-it-iveness after all.
I am well into my two trial ‘back to school’ college classes. I find, contrary to my fears, that I have not become terribly stupid in the intervening 30 years or so, despite my difficulty in committing things to memory, which used to be quite easy for me. I am doing pretty well, and am quite enjoying my Political Science class (good teacher), though my online music class is rather horrible. The syllabus states that the class includes “ear training” but in fact, it has no audio component to it whatsoever. Even worse, once my transcripts from my 30 year ago college experience had been translated and applied to my current attempts, I find that I don’t even NEED this stupid music class. Thanks for nothing, Phil, the guidance counselor.
Speaking of Phil, I had an appointment with him today. I had seen fliers on the campus announcing a career workshop today. I called and registered for it, and thought it seemed a good time to schedule with Phil to go over what I was doing and where I should go next.
I showed up for my appointment promptly at 1:00 P.M. After a brief wait, my file was pulled and Phil and I were discussing my future. As we chatted amiably, Phil was sympathetic to my situation at work. You may remember that Phil and I share similar personality types, and one of our traits is listening and empathy. After a bit, I realized we had fallen into the trap I recalled from previous appointments of exchanging INFP personality anecdotes while my future went largely undiscussed. I jerkily rambled about the topic, mentioning tentative majors of radiology, nursing and business, while lamenting my age and the time and resources it would take to actually achieve a degree in one of these areas.
“So, why do you want to get a degree?” he asked me. I shakily replied that I really didn’t know. Basically I just wanted to be able to support myself doing something I enjoyed.
I must have mentioned the farm in Idaho, because I suddenly realized we were now deeply involved in a conversation about how gratifying it was to care for baby animals. I steered the talk back to classes I may or may not need to take. “Have you ever thought about taking an art class?” Phil asked.
“Uh, no. I’m quite hopeless at art,” I replied, kind of puzzled by the question.
“Well, so am I, but I think I might be ready to take one,” he revealed animatedly. “I have a black lab, and I find myself noticing how the lights and shadows reflect……I knew someone who drew a black Cadillac on black velvet with a white pen….a black Cadillac with a white pen! Can you imagine?”
Intense feelings of deju vu struck me as I recalled having this exact conversation with Phil the last time I had come in. As fascinating as were his artistic observations of the outer world, I decided it was time for me to go. “I have a Career Workshop to attend at 2:00,” I interrupted. “It’s nearly that time. Can you tell me where this place is?” pulling a copy of the flier out of my book.
“It’s here,” he said in confusion. “Keitha! Is there a career workshop here right now?”
“Yes,” said the office manager, poking her head around the door.
“Did we have anyone sign up for it this time?” asked Phil.
“Yes,” repeated Keitha. “We have Kathy.”
I followed Keitha around the corner to a small room containing 10 or so computers. “You can just take some of these skill or interest inventory tests, if you want to,” she told me. Then we can print off the results; careers will be suggested based on the answers you give.” I fumbled my way through rating ‘skills’ I found interesting or important. We printed some stuff off. Then Keitha told me I could access the same programs from home. I selected a few career exploration books to check out and, per my usual M.O., renew a few times and return unread. Looking at the check-out sheet, only one other person had checked books out from the career center since I last had in mid-summer. Then I left.

It was a beautiful day, weather wise, and I spent the next several hours checking ‘things to do in town’ off my list. I ordered my new prescription reading glasses, hoping that having the vision corrected per eye (they are each different) will bring back my pleasure in reading. I picked up some medical prescriptions. I got a new book on CD from the public library, and I stopped by the Weightwatcher meeting, even though it was not my week to work, to chat with my coworkers. All of that, coupled with an invigorating walk with the ‘boys’ this morning has put 13,406 steps on my pedometer.

So, no, I still don’t know what I want to do, but I am becoming a little more aware of what I enjoy. I want, what I do, to make a difference (hopefully for the better) in someone’s life. I want to interact with people in a positive way (but only if I like them.) I want to feel fulfilled and competent and appreciated. I want enough variety and activity that I’m not bored, but not so much that I’m overwhelmed. I want to be able to support myself, and better yet, support my husband. In short, I guess I want the land of dreams and rainbows.

I noticed today that there is another guidance counselor in that office. Maybe next time I’ll ask for Pat.

The same old UltraMom

Preparing for a WeightWatcher meeting, I came across this poem by Portia Nelson. I thought it said a lot in just a few words. It's called
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost…I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V
I walk down another streeet.

This weekend, UltraDad and I did a little exploring. We had long been hearing about the town of “Jarbridge” and its natural beauties. Several of my weightwatcher members regularly go camping there and always come back several pounds heavier, blaming it on campfire food and drink. So, Saturday morning found us planning our expedition. We would take the pickup, because the roads were reputedly not all paved. This, we would come to discover, was a master understatement. Besides it would give UDad a chance to try out his 4-wheel drive. This part was true enough.
The ‘boys’ barked and jumped about excitedly as I loaded their take-along bag with treats, leashes and water bowl. They did not often get to go along. Soon we were headed out. Elko was on the way, so here we would stop and procure the fixings for a picnic lunch. As we drove along, I wondered out loud about Jarbridge. How big a town was it? How long would it take us to get there? Would the leaves be changing color?
“Jarbidge,” said UltraDad. “It’s pronounced ‘Jarbidge.”
I had been expecting, among other things, to see a scenic ‘bridge,’ but UltraDad was adamant. “I was corrected yesterday,” he informed me. He showed me the map, and sure enough, there it was. There is no ‘bridge’ in Jarbidge.
After loading up the cooler with fried chicken, chips, grapes and drinks, we took Mountain City highway out of town. An hour or two later, we took the turnoff to Jarbidge, expecting, per the sign, a 47 mile further drive to reach the town. The road was not paved, but was wide and well marked. After a while, we came to a fork. One way took off to the right. The straight ahead way went through a farmyard, and up to a gate. The only sign in the vicinity, right next to the gate read “Public access to Bruneau River. Leave all gates as you find them.” We went through the gate, and then another. “If this isn’t the right way,” said UtraDad, “I’m sure the two roads will meet up somewhere down the line.”
As in the Princess Bride where the bad guy keeps saying “Inconceivable!”, Ultradad would repeat this assertion many more times. I’m not sure he knew what it meant.
Finally about 1:00 P.M. we came to a clearing near a stream. Picnic time. We sat on the tailgate and enjoyed our repast, as Murphy and Rowdy ran about exploring. At least UDad sat on the tailgate. It was so cold, I could not stay sitting for long, but walked around in search of a patch of sunshine. At least this area was somewhat protected from the wind. Naturally, this was the coldest day, up to now, of the year. In fact, the higher we got, the more snow we ran into. The branches of the fir trees were heavy with the cold, white stuff and it covered the road in strategic places, mainly in the scary, narrow, mountain- hugging, sheer drop-off-on-the-other-side parts. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Everywhere also was evidence of the recent wildfire that had consumed countless acres of this wilderness. From our clearing, we could see burnt out landscape just a few yards away from the grove of trees near our stream. UDad said he wished he had brought his camera. “I have mine,” I said smugly, taking exactly one picture before my batteries died. The 4 extra ones in the bag were all dead too, of course. UltraDad examined a large, aged tree near us. “Look at this,” he said. “Someone drove a nail into this tree.” He worked at the nail to remove it, when he noticed several others. Closer examination showed about 10 nails of varying sizes, as well as several screws. Several of the branches had also been sawed off. We decided this tree must be much used by campers to secure gear or lines of some type, but it seemed a shame to deface it so.
Meanwhile, the ‘boys’ had been exploring around the stream, and their paws were caked with mud. I used damp paper towels to take off the worst, and they shook the rest of it off in UDad’s pickup as they dried. This was one of the 20-30 times I was glad we had not brought my car!
We doggedly pursued our ‘road’ through stream fordings, washout-rutted paths and the aforementioned mountain-hugging, adrenaline inducing trails. At last, faced with a major washout and near vertical navigation of the next hill, UDad was forced to turn around. Our little detour cost us about 3 hours.
Finally back at the fork of indecision, we took the road on the right, and soon were rewarded with a mileage signpost reading “Jarbidge 27 miles”. We had been telling ourselves, that at least our detour had netted us interesting and varied views of topography and wildlife, but the scenery on this road was actually much prettier. Here was the pristine winter forest scape usually depicted on Christmas cards. Twice we startled a pair of deer near the road and watched them bound effortlessly away from us as we marveled at their grace and beauty. We actually saw quite a few deer, or I should say, UltraDad did. “Look,” he would say, “Do you see the deer?” Except in the cases where the deer were practically under my nose, the answer was always “No.” After much pointing and describing, I would usually manage to see them just as they were leaping up the hillside out of view. I don’t know what my problem is.
Near 6 P.M. we finally pulled into the town of Jarbidge, and were surprised by the size of it. Most of the homes and structures lined the main street through town. I had the thought of “Brigadoon”; a full town dropped in the middle of nowhere, bristling with activity. There was a fire station or two and lots of wooden boxes labeled “Fire Hose.” All around the clearing that was the town were fir trees. We had dinner at ‘The Outdoor Inn’, we both had an unremarkable French Dip sandwich, but enjoyed the atmosphere of locals coming in for their 'reserved' Saturday prime rib and the bar next door was doing a good business. Taking the dogs for a ‘constitutional’ while UDad paid for dinner, I found a little park. A large sign told of Jarbidge’s history as a booming gold-mining town. Private property had been allowed here in the middle of public forest. Jardidge’s name? A Shoshone Indian word meaning “evil spirit.” That would explain how we managed to take the wrong road earlier. Darn evil spirits.
A large rock titled “Liberty Rock” was on display in front of the park. Also, I noticed several places around town displayed shovels, with the town’s name written across their several backs.
Researching just now, I learn that in the 1995 flood, many of Jarbidges access roads were washed out. Elko County and the Forest Service shared maintenance duties, and when the Forest Service had not repaired the road two years later, the county made plans to do so. Now the USFS argued that the bull trout would be disturbed if the road were repaired after so much time had passed. They piled tons of rock and debris for a 900 foot stretch of road so the county could not repair the road. A Nevada judge ruled that the county had the right to remove the debris and repair “their” county road however, the legal debate continued and county workers were even threatened with arrest when they tried to repair the road.
“Shovels” became the symbol of this controversy, and Elko county received over 11,000 shovels from all over the United States. Volunteers came on July 4th, 2000 and the Jarbidge Shovel Brigade removed the debris, including the 6 ton rock, now known as Liberty Rock. (http://www.ufwda.org/news_view.php?id=15) Interesting…
We decided to go home by another route. ‘Only 15 miles to paved road’ we were told, but those 15 miles were slow and windy. We finally came to the highway barely into Idaho, and drove back to Carlin by way of Jackpot, Wells and Elko, arriving home about 11:00 P.M.
We will definitely make the drive again some day, though probably not til next spring when the snow has gone. This time we’ll remember. Take the road on the right…or is it the left? Darn evil spirits….

Student, WeightWatcher Leader, Prison Storekeeper, Mother of two dogs, Mother of 4 kids, Wife, Chief cook, bottle, and laundry washer. Help! I’m wearing too many hats! I have too much to do!
This is what I tried to tell Johnny the other day when he asked how school was going. I’m trying to let him down gently. The brain doesn’t remember like it used to, and the online components of classes are challenging. Know what he said?

“Stop whining and start shining.”

Short, pithy and to the point. I think this is my new motto.

UltraMom

Okay, if you read the title, you pretty much have the story. Nuff said, right? But,hey this is UltraMom talking and UltraMom never makes a short story short. So settle down to listen to the long, wordy tale of a search; a quest if you will: for the car of my dreams.
Chapter 1: UltraMom drives big old junky cars that are always breaking down. Shoot. Again, I gave the whole story away in the title. I’m going to have to stop doing that. My question to my mechanic has lately been: which of these two cars (the ’94 Ford Taurus or the ’95 Chrysler Concord) will cause me the least amount of expensive repairs in the near future. He hemmed and hawed and issued disclaimers before selecting the Taurus. The Taurus proved its worth by breaking down on us in Pocatello when we were pickup shopping for UltraDad, and refusing to start when UltraMom, ignoring the wolf-crying warning clangs, left the lights on all day. It seems that, in this case, the clangings were actually trying to relay an important message (ie, you left your lights on, idiot), but in my defense this car also clangs for no good reason. Now, after several expensive repairs, the Taurus now appears to be running again. I’ve got to admit, that I have been feeling more charitable towards the Concord of late. Although it’s sick, most probably terminal, it’s decline has been more gradual and evident. Her bicep-building, stiff-turning wheel has been with me so long it almost seems natural to have to wrench the steering wheel with brute force to navigate a corner. The deep, grinding noise that sometimes accompanies the operation of the air conditioner is telling me the compressor is slowly going out. I can almost hear the old girl saying “You know, I’ve been around a while. I’ll do my best to take you where you want to go, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. Just letting you know..” I appreciate the warning. Take lessons, traitorous Taurus.
Chapter 2: UltraDad now has a ‘new’ pickup, so it’s UltraMom’s turn. We decide to trade in the Concord. Actually, I wish we could have traded them both. UltraMom has been doing some research. For a long time, the Toyota Camry has been my pie-in-the sky dream car, but I never thought I’d actually own one. Now is seems that I actually might. Jimbo suggests I also consider the Honda Accord. I do, and like what I see. Only drawback is that both cars are very popular and priced accordingly. I pick up Auto Seller papers from Twin Falls, Jim gets ones from Idaho Falls, and we also look online. Prices is Idaho are much lower than in this area of Nevada. I call a few dealerships with mixed results.
Chapter 3: UltraMom and Dad go car shopping. We drive separate vehicles to Idaho; UltraMom drives the old Concord. UltraDad, who may wish to stay a few extra days, drives his pickup. We will be staying in Howe at Chuck and Joy’s and Jimbo has promised to accompany us on our car-shopping journey. UltraDad, who is several hours ahead of UMom, scouts out a few cars in Twin Falls, which we test drive. We really like the forest green Accord, but decide to check out what Idaho Falls has to offer before making a decision. UltraDad does not like the Camry at all. He feels cramped and uncomfortable..
Saturday finds the three of us driving about Idaho Falls from one dealership to another scouting out cars. Some salesmen just tell us they don’t have any Camrys or Accords and send us packing. The more enterprising ones try to sell us something else. At Smiley’s, where we bought UDad’s pickup, UltraMom test drives a luxurious Audi. At the conclusion of the test drive, Jimbo suggests that UltraMom may wish to let him drive from now on so she can devote her full attention to the gadgets. He jokes that her driving has frightened the saleswoman sitting white-faced in the backseat. Ha, ha. At the Subaru place, hearing the salesman extol the virtues of the Legacy, UltraMom decides she likes the Subaru. It is all wheel drive, after all, and, according to Mark, or Bob, or whatever his name was, has the least expensive maintenance and repair costs of any car out there. We may be back.
On down the road, we stop into a smallish place called “Auto Express.” They have two Honda Accords. The first one is like many others we have looked at. The second is a 2002 luxury model. Leather seats, rear spoiler, power seats, moonroof, radio with casette and 6-CD changer. The color is silver and it drives like a dream. I think I’m in love. The Subaru Legacy, with all its practicality, fades into oblivion. But when Jimbo tries to wheel and deal, he doesn’t get far. It seems that this place has already set the price about as low as they can go. There are a few little things that need fixing, but we are assured they can be done by Monday morning. Also, Scott is willing to throw in a 90-day mechanical warranty and give us $600 trade-in for the Concord. We’ll have to think about it.
This story has a happy ending. Silver Girl now sits in my driveway, getting at last figuring, over 27 mpg. I only hope she can live up to my expectations, which are reasonable. I only want her to keep running, like she does right now, for the rest of my natural life. In return, I promise regular lube & oils. Seems like a fair deal to me.
UltraMom

Sail on Silver Girl….

Isn't she a beauty?

Brief update on UltraMom the student.
Last week, while registering for classes, I spent several hours just walking around this small, pretty campus right in the middle of the town of Elko, soaking up the atmosphere and anticipating being, after a 30 year hiatus, a college student once again. It’s called Great Basin College, as I believe we are geographically in the “Great Basin.” The college is centered around an outdoor amphitheater, which in turn is surrounded by relaxing landscaping including a flowing stream. My one oncampus class, Political Science, is at the other end of campus in the Technology Building. Here are classrooms with the capability to include multiple sites in classroom instruction. There are two Television screens at the front of the room. Once can show video clips and tapes the instructor brings in; the other shows the students at the remote sites. In Eureka, I suspect the lone student is still in high school. I base this conclusion, not only on her youthful looks, but also on the fact that she was wearing a cheer leading costume last Thursday.
The Professor seems to know his stuff, and this class has the capability to be interesting. Politics-authority and power, or 'Who gets what when and how.” Also will be studying Nevada's constitution. We watched a movie yesterday on Nevada's history, which was interesting for me, not being a native. Mining, trapping, and agriculture were start up industries, but of course Prizefight Boxing and Gambling brought Nevada and more specifically Las Vegas and Reno the prosperity they enjoy today.
But some things have changed since last I sat in a college classroom, most notably “the internet.” There are several online components to this class, including required posting of essays on a ‘bulletin board” and online testing. This will take a little getting used to.
My Music Class is entirely online. I thought this class would be an easy Fine Arts Credit, but I’m rapidly changing my mind. I can read a little music, play a little piano and violin. What else is there to know? A lot, apparently. The text book is dry and (to me) cumbersome and difficult to understand. But the most challenging part so far has been trying to view class lectures on my Mac computer. The first time, I appealed to my UltraWiz, UltraSon for help. “How can I view these exe. Files on my computer, Honey?” “You can’t.” was the reply. Helpfully, UltraBob took my files, converted them into a type I COULD view and sent them back to me. “I’ll write a note to your teacher telling him how he should be doing this,’ he told me. Thanks, Dad.
Meanwhile, the instructor tells me, that though time consuming, he will convert all lectures into Mac files. Problem solved, right? The next lecture I tried to view opened in a program called Xcode and opens in a text file of incomprehensible symbols. Sigh.
And meanwhile, my PC is fried, which we all knew would happen. So I guess its off to the computer lab with me, if I ever find the time.
Of course, lots else is going on. I’m still working at the prison, doing weightwatchers one or two times a week and trying to keep UltraDad fed and on a more or less even keel.
He is enjoying his ‘new’ pickup and this weekend it will be my turn to get a ‘new’ ride. I’m thinking Toyota Camry or Honda Accord, if I can afford it. Any other ideas on reliable, comparable vehicles? I’ll keep you posted on my search.
Last weekend, we brought the old, '76 pickup out to the Lear Ranch for UltraDad's sister and bro-in-law to use for irrigating, feeding cows, etc. The Lear Ranch is about a 3 hour drive away, and we brought the 'boys' (the 4-legged ones) along for the excursion. We ended up taking a drive into McDermott Canyon, which is lovely with McDermott creek running through it. We scouted for arrowheads or at least obsidian that showed signs of being worked on by long ago 'Native Americans.” UltraDad found a couple of broken ones, Sis Kathy found several as well. UltraMom found some pretty rocks. It was late when we got back to the ranch, so though not planned, we spent the night. Sis Kathy raises 'MinPins” and has 14 of her own. She has a website, I think its “Nevada MinPins” and knows her subject through and through, including variations on cropped ears and tails as well as the numerous colors variants. The mutts are cute, but I find I prefer my fuzzy little poodles.
‘Brief update?” you are now thinking? Hey, this is UltraMom; we all knew the ‘brief’ part wouldn’t really happen, right?

UltraMom

Okay, boys and girls, its time for another grown up lesson. How many of you like to go to the dentist? Come on now, don’t all shout at once. Actually, when I was a kid, before I started down my long, rocky road of orthodontia, visiting the dentist wasn’t all that bad. All 5 of us kids had pretty good teeth, and I was in my 20’s before I had my first cavity.
“Look, Ma, no cavities,” as the old ad goes, but there was still plenty going on in this mouth of mine. I think my first visit to the ortho was about age 7. I had too many crookedly growing teeth for too small a mouth. I remember hearing “crossbite” and I remember wearing: headgear; braces with crisscrossing small rubber bands looped over small hooks, which would sometimes pop in my mouth; big black positioner, and finally retainers. Its the age old story of the orthodontia patient on maintenance who doesn’t wear their retainer at night, as instructed, and whose bite, therefore, goes bad. It’s also my story.
Lately dental visits have become more stressful for me. A couple of times, the dentist tried to drill before my mouth was altogether numb. More anesthesia was administered, and my tongue stayed numb for almost a month. My eyeball only stayed numb for several hours, but during that time, I had to manually (with my hand) close my eyelid if I wished to blink. You want to hear more? Okay, I have trouble breathing through my nose, so feel slightly panicked when my breathing organ of choice (mouth) is filled up with dental tools and dentist hands. The laughing gas makes me feel weird and jumpy, not relaxed and calm. I have TMJ (popping jaw) and if my mouth is forced to stay open wide for any length of time, my jaw aches for weeks.
About a month ago, I visited the dentist because I had a bad toothache. My old, large filling had gone bad. I needed a crown, and if the pain persisted, a root canal. A temporary crown was placed on this top front molar. I was told I should be able to chew on it; I couldn’t. I was told I should be able to floss around it; I flossed and it came out. The pain persisted, and the dentist, tired I think of my whining and persistence in not ‘opening wide’, referred me to a specialist in Twin Falls.
My friend, Debbie A. went to Twin Falls with me. It’s a 3 hour drive, and she was concerned I wouldn’t feel like driving home after my root canal. UltraDad had planned to take me, but he was still in Idaho having some good bonding time with his youngest sons. The endodontist was great. I had very little pain, and easily managed it with a couple of ibuprofen. In fact, we were able to shop at the mall for several hours, which made me feel even better.
Now I just had to wear this darn temporary crown for another week or two, and I could then schedule with my regular dentist to get the permanent one and this whole shebang would be over.
Today was the day. But as the dentist fitted, probed and scraped, he decided this new crown was not fitting properly. He needed to send it back to the lab for a little work. Darn it. But it would be ready by tomorrow, so I scheduled another appointment. The temporary crown went back on, but a funny thing happened tonight as I ate dinner. Suddenly my tongue felt a gap in my teeth, and I realized the temporary crown was gone. Really gone. I think I must have swallowed it.
So, learn this lesson, kids and learn it well. Take care of your teeth; always brush, floss and wear your retainer. Believe me, you don’t want to end up as a whiny, dentaphobic like UltraMom.

Not much going on around here, but I’ve found it’s usually the little things that keep life interesting. I’ve had a few of those, some more fun than others. An interesting thing happened on our bike ride the other day. I have a basket on my bike especially made for a small dog to ride along. It is actually big enough for two small dogs to ride along, though sometimes Murphy tries to convince me otherwise. There are days when he is good as gold, staying put on his own side of the basket, calm and interested in all the sights and smells around him. Other times he whines, wriggles and squirms, until poor Rowdy is squished into the smallest corner.
This particular day had been one of those, but we had made a stop at Grandma Pat’s house and he was much calmer on the ride home. In fact they were both being pretty darn good when I saw a young couple walking towards us walking their medium sized dog. They pointed and smiled at the spectacle we made, and I smiled back, preparing to exchange a pleasantry or two as I rode past. At that moment, to my deep chagrin, Rowdy, (yes, I said Rowdy) leaped out of the bike basket. He was tied in by a short leash attached to his collar. The end result was that he dangled, by his neck, over the side of the basket. The young couple was horrified, and kept apologizing as I finally came to a stop and firmly replaced my errant canine in the basket. I assured them they were not at fault, and hopefully both Murphy and I learned something.
I have long been telling my inmate workers, Randy and Brain about my wonderful dogs, and yesterday, when two friendly officers were on duty, I took the “boys” by the prison to say hello. Officer Gray has poodles of his own, most notably, ‘Buster.’ Most poodles are friendly and sociable. Buster is a one-man poodle. Murphy and Rowdy were a little nervous at first; the surroundings were unfamiliar, as were all of these tattooed men. We finally made it to the store, and I got Randy and Brain to come in. They were enchanted with my little guys. I had brought their jerky treats, and Murphy went through his trick repertoire while Rowdy stared, lunged at the treats and pretended he had never heard the words ‘sit’, ‘shake’ and ‘down’ before in his life. By the time Brain was finished trying to bribe them, half the treat bag was empty. The men really seemed to enjoy holding and interacting with the dogs, and on the whole I think the excursion was a success. Though there was the small matter or Rowdy peeing on the floor of ‘C’ Wing as we were on our way out the back door…
But I'm sure the guys didn't mind cleaning it up; after all, if you're going to have dogs around, just as well go for the whole experience, right?

Dog Owner Extraordinaire,

UltraMom

Think now, what is the most pleasant, most relaxing sound in the world? It is, of course, the sound of gently gurgling water, as in a bubbling brook, stream or creek. It is one of my most favorite sounds, and one that always makes me feel more at peace and connected to nature. I now have that sound (and sight) whenever I wish, just by stepping out into my own backyard.
As you may remember from a previous post “A Pond? In My Own Backyard?” our hero pondbuilders, Jimbo and Johnny, had to leave before they finished the job. The UltraParents made a little more progress, but only a little. If the job was going to be completed the duo would have to return, which they did just last weekend. This would be Johnny’s last weekend in the area before returning to Vanderbilt in Tennessee for Law School, Round 2 out of 3. The kid spent the summer working for an Idaho Supreme Court justice, and I was pleased and proud to hear said judge has already offered Johnny a clerkship upon graduation if he should so desire. Way to go!
The boys arrived late Thursday night, having driven 5-6 hours after Jim had worked all day. They stumbled into the house and had just enough energy to inquire as to the location of their beds. Friday morning found UltraMom taking a day off work, and found Johnny and Jim up bright and early, and eager to get to work on my waterfall. “Mom,’ Jim lectured me, “I told you that you would need to move those plants. They are right in the way of the waterfall.” Well, yeah, I knew that, but somehow had never quite gotten around to it. Facing certain destruction of the wooly, elfin and mother of thyme plants I had nurtured along, I got around to it then.
Meanwhile the boys planned and cut to shape the black pond liner that would form the foundation of the waterfall, directing it down the hillside and into the pond. On top of this black, heavy-duty tarp, Jim would layer the large, flat pieces of slate we had earlier excavated from our lawn. It was soon apparent that a trip to town would be required before we got too far into the project, so we headed into Elko a little after 1:00 P.M. If we went any later, we would miss the 2:00 lunch deadline for dining at The Star, which you may remember serves the best steak sandwiches on the planet. Before long, we were seated at one end of a long table at The Star, munching on salad, wonderful French fries and steak sandwiches. Jimbo, I noticed was eating his with a knife and fork. “Jim,” I asked curiously, “Why are you eating your sandwich with a knife and fork?”
“It’s a little thing called manners,” he informed me. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them?” The trio seated at the other end of our banquette overheard this and thought it quite funny. Now that I think of it, it was pretty funny: the thought of Jim giving ANYONE etiquette lessons sort of boggles the mind.
After running a few more errands, we picked up the pond filter and misc fittings we needed and arrived home in time to feed and greet UltraDad before he headed off to a night shift at work.
Saturday was almost entirely devoted to the pond/waterfall. UltraMom also, of course, did all the laundry and cooked homemade pizza, but as we know, she is a wonder and never complains. We hooked up the pump and filter and both seemed to work fine, except that the garden hose made a much more reliable conduit from the pond to the top of the waterfall than the corrugated black hose purchased specifically for that purpose. The problem? The hose was rather a bright green in color and was a jarring note in the otherwise harmonic predominantly black and brown color scheme of this water feature. The guys brainstormed: cover the hose in black electrical tape? Nah, it would come off in the water. Spray paint the hose black? The Carlin hardware store couldn’t guarantee the water-proofness of their paints.
Jimbo placed a phone call to Pat, who was in Elko picking up teaching supplies for the soon-to-begin first day of school. She came home with a long, black garden hose, which the boys were able to cut to length, routing it up the hillside to carry water to the top of the waterfall. Thanks, Pat. Remind me to pay you back some time. At one point in the proceedings, remembering the boys’ last visit, I asked Jim if he was feeling sick this time. “Sick of your pond,” he replied rather ungraciously, but I could see his point.
The trip to the hardware store was not unproductive; there we got directions to some nearby gravel pits, to procure the small rocks we needed to fill in-between all the slate. Johnny and mostly Jim worked all day on the project, placing rocks, installing the pond filter and pump. The filter had a small pump that could power a fountain, and this we used to direct water through the turtle. I was relieved to see, in spite of what Johnny had been telling me, the water came out of the turtle’s MOUTH. At last it was time to try the waterfall out and Jimbo expectantly aimed the hose at the top rock. The water disappeared into the gravel, reappearing a few moments later at a point under the bottom rock, where it proceeded to splash into the pond. This was not good. The rocks weren’t even getting wet. It finally appeared the only solution was going to involve cementing in-between the rock and force that water to go where we wanted it to go. Johnny, Pat and I went to the hardware store to purchase concrete, and arrived back home to find newly awakened UltraDad along with worn-out Jim in the middle of some rather serious looking rock rearranging. In the new arrangement, each rock overlapped the one below it. The end result was much more satisfying than our trail run. Some of the water still went down in the gravel and came out under the final rock, but a lot of it was also running just where we wanted it, over the rocks. Thankfully, we didn’t need the concrete after all.
At the top of the waterfall, Johnny wired a Grecian urn pot through which the hose had been inserted. The water would flow out of the vase and form the start of the waterfall. Halfway down on the rocks, the turtle stands, spitting more water down the falls. In the pond itself, floats a solar-powered, glow in the dark water lily (no, its not a real water lily). The pond is not very level, but as we can do nothing about that now, we have decided not to worry about it.
So, UltraMom has the pond/waterfall of her dreams. We spent a good part of today standing around watching and listening to this natural looking wonder and discussing further possibilities. Would I put plants in the pond? How about around it? Would all the water splashing onto the nearby rocks cause a problem with the pond’s water level?
We were able to get a couple of games of pinochle in, and true to form, whoever was on UltraMom’s team caused her to lose time and time again. We switched partners once in a while, but UltraMom and partner’s losing streak continued until the very last hand. Here UltraMom redeemed herself and saved the day by ‘Shooting the Moon.’
The boys had to drive back to Idaho today, and left quite a bit later than they had intended. Getting up for work at 5:00 AM tomorrow morning will not be pleasant for Jim; Johnny will begin his long drive back to Tennessee. But while they were here, they performed a miracle. They turned my barren boring hillside into a living, splashing waterfall.
I can’t wait to see how they’re going to top this for my next birthday.

Spoiled and loving it,
UltraMom

The Waterfall Begins

Placing the Rocks

Trying It Out

The spitting turtle

UltraMom had just sat down on some logs here and got pinched really hard. Jim laughed at her pain.

The finished product

More of an overview

Prison is such an uncertain place to be. The most seemingly harmless action can have far reaching consequences. I arrived at work today and walked inside to find Randy, one of my store dudes, and the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet, sitting in the rotunda next to his bunkie, a young white kid. Seems they were in trouble for horseplay; strictly forbidden. Furthermore, said horseplay was engaged in at 'count time' and witnessed by the camp LT. “I'm so sorry, Miss Kathy,” Randy greeted me. “I should have known better.”
“They could be sent to Cedar Prison,” Officer Barr told me. “This is a serious thing.” I put in what good words I could for Randy, and did the same thing with the LT, the man in charge who would ultimately decide the fate of these serious offenders.
The story, as I heard it later went down like this: The kid thought count was clear, so he jumped down off his bunk, and gave Randy a good-natured little shove. Randy gave him one back. I think the kid was getting ready to reciprocate with another push when the LT walked by.
“This kind of thing leads to fighting,” I was told. “That's why its strictly forbidden.”
One thing you need to understand is that Randy NEVER gets in trouble. He hates even the thought of it.
Randy showed up to work about a half hour later. He and the kid had received a stern lecture and were told their Notice of Charges were pending. I think its going to be all right. But for those of you who may end up in prison someday, let this be a lesson to you: no horseplay. We mean it.

UltraMom

Reading material found in or around my bed, in the bathroom or by the computer:

Something Extra (Complimentary recipe supplement from Raley’s Supermarket)

WeightWatchers Meeting Guides: May-August 2007

The Money Book for the Young, Fabulous & Broke by Suze Orman (no comments please: there is still a lot of good stuff I can get out of it and I highly recommend it to anyone, esp if you fit the first criterium)

Great Basin College: Fall 2007 Class Schedule

Family Circle magazine, August Editition (I think I already have Sept too around here someplace; I get this magazine without paying for it; a rather long, boring story I will tell you some other time.)

Do What You Are: Discover the Perfect Career for You Through the Secrets of Personality Type by Paul D. Tieger & Barbara Barron-Tieger

The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan (my next novel, having finished Harry Potter last week. What WAS that mewling thing on the floor?)

The Lazy Person’s Guide to Investing by Paul B. Farrell, J.D., PH.D. ( Wow, by the amount of initials after his name, this guy must know something. The ‘lazy’ descriptive definitely fits me. What I lack is the determination to dig in and digest useful information out of this book.)

Ortho’s All About Garden Pools and Fountains ( Hopefully, useful ideas to finish up my waterfall and pond when the boys come out.)

Discover What You’re Best At by Linda Gale (I have renewed this one and Do What You Are from the Great Basin College Career Center about 6 times now. Wish I could learn it by osmosis by placing it under my pillow and sleeping on it.)

Amistad: a kids book about a slave-ship rebellion. I was encouraged to read the novel, but the library does not have in stock and I had to request. This picture book gives me an idea what it was all about and was very interesting. I encourage everyone to research this bit of, for a change, bright history.

In addition, listening to a book on tape:The Beekeeper’s Daughter by Laurie King about an older Sherlock Holmes falling in love and book on CD The Magic Skin by Honore de Balzac (that enigmatic scribe from the new Author’s Card Game whose books we have so much trouble pronouncing. So far, it is wordy and not that interesting, but I’ll keep at it and let you know.)

Now, why can’t I get anything done?

UltraMom

Hello boys and girls. So you want to be a grownup? First, you need to learn some grownup words and concepts. The grownup word for today is “wait.”
But I know all about that, you say. I have to wait for everything! Wait for my milk and cookies; wait for my favorite TV program; wait for Mom to take me to the swimming pool. When I am a grownup, I will do what I want when I want…NO MORE WAITING!
Oh, little Grasshopper, you are still such a child. Listen and learn.
Today we are going to cover some of the more common aspects of grownup waiting, all of which were experienced by UltraMom and Dad is a single day. There are, of course, many more, but this sampling should send you scurrying back to the playroom to wait for cartoon time.
The Department of Motor Vehicles. At the Elko county DMV there are lines for vehicle registration and for driver’s license transfer or renewal. Plan on a minimum 30 minute wait per line. In addition, when you have purchased your vehicle (ie UltraDad’s new, used pickup) in another state, you must first obtain a lengthy and confusing vehicle inspection, where you will be asked numerous questions on your particular brand of Ford F-150 of which you, and your vehicle documentation, have no idea. I asked UltraDad if he wanted me to stand in the registration line while he and the inspector (general) tried to ascertain the load capacity and existence of the pickup. “No,” he said naively, “those lines seem to move pretty quickly.” He was forced to admit, as we watched two people stand at two separate windows for 20 minutes each, that he was wrong. A man was occupying a third window, but doggedly ignored the resentful gazes of the every-lengthening line, his nose buried in paperwork. We were saved from complete mind-numbing boredom by a Boston-Terrier mix held on leash by the couple ahead of us. The dog was happily gnawing on a large stuffed toy, and according to his owners, took his toy everywhere, which made him content in any situation. I was jealous.
Our pickup registration finished, UltraDad next stood in the Driver’s License line with the intent of changing his Commercial Driver’s License to a regular one. He decided, after a 25 minute wait, and a chat with the ‘expert’ at hand, to keep his CDL for now. Apparently it is easier to keep than to obtain. Only catch? This would require him to get a Physical Examination at one of only two Doctor’s offices in town.

Your Car Dealership Repair Shop. Our next stop was at the Ford dealership for the purpose of getting a spare key made for the pickup and to obtain the secret access code. To me this sounded like it should be a relatively quick and inexpensive process. Not so. Apparently, one must run an Internet scan with the VIN number to get the code, and the spare key must be made from some rare earth metal. This required a 1 1/2 hour wait, in which I read 5-6 chapters of my new Harry Potter book and took two complete naps. UltraDad, who had forgotten his book, was not so fortunate. The bill? $89.00.

Restaurants. This waiting is not nearly as bad as the other kind, because you will be getting instant gratification at the end; food. And, oftentimes, you have a drink, buttered rolls, or chips and salsa to make your wait more tolerable.

Doctors Offices. To me, this is one of the very worst types of waiting situations. You know the wait will be long, but if you are late, you are sent to the back of the wait line. You sometimes have the added anxiety of a worrying physical ailment and of trying to remember all the questions you must be sure to ask. At this particular office, where UltraDad must obtain his Physical, appointments are not necessary. This two hour wait enabled UltraMom to read some more of her book and catch up on some personal phone calls.
If you are now thinking “That UltraMom is something of a whiner. It sounds like UltraDad had it far worse, and I don’t hear him complaining,” you are right. UltraMom is not particularly good at this grownup thing. Now, where are my milk and cookies?

My sister in law is a genius;, a bit of an evil genius, as it turns out, though I doubt it is intentional. I, on the other hand, am an idiot. I would like to claim a ‘savant’ at the end, but as I am not consistently, brilliantly good at any one or two things, I cannot, in good conscience, do so.
Pat is gone on a much anticipated and much deserved vacation to Florida to see her daughter and grandchildren. And so, it falls to my lot to care for her pets and yard while she is away. Now, I really don’t mind doing this. Pat does so much for me that I could do this for a year and not come close to evening the balance. But graciously and stoically doing the job, without whining and complaining is just not my style, and makes for boring posts, n’est-ce pas?
The dogs, this time, are really a piece of cake. Sister-in-law Kathy took the potential problem dogs home with her; the remaining seven all stay in the yard like good dogs. Likewise, feeding the two cats and caring for the fish: nothing to it. So what has got me all wound up? The yard, that’s what!
Before she left, Pat had me come over so she could go over watering instructions with me. We walked around her acres as she showed me numerous hoses, sprinklers, soaker hoses, hydrants and trees, shrubs and flowers. In two separate areas are three separate soaker hoses. The main hose must be attached to a different soaker each day. The new bushes in the front cannot be allowed to dry out. The explanations were quite general, mostly instructing me to “water it if it’s dry.”
I stopped again the night before she was catching the plane. “I’m not sure I can remember how that soaker hose change works,” I said uncertainly. “Maybe you could write that part down.” Pat is aware of my limitations. Her headings were “junk” and “horses” to denote what was on the other side of the fence in the different locales. She then wrote days of the week, and listed what was supposed to be getting watered each day. Actually, now that I had a guide, it didn’t seem so bad.
I did fine on the ‘junk’ side. The soakers were quite near their hydrant and easy to find. But I almost gave up the first day I had to change the “horse” hoses. After pacing up and down the fence line for about 20 minutes, I finally located the convergence of the hoses and got it changed. The next day, I did the exact same thing, and have finally wised up. There is now a dog-toy stuffed monkey I found in the vicinity, in a nearby tree. When I spot the monkey, I know I’m close.
It has been unmercifully hot here, and the soil dries out quickly, so if Pat’s 1001 plants are to survive my stay, I’m going to have to set some strategic sprinklers. I don’t know how she keeps up with it; but there are hoses crisscrossed in every direction. Trying to trace one to its source, I find myself comparing this setup to Winchester’s House of Mystery. A hose will suddenly disappear into the thick tangle of clover, not to be seen again. A sprinkler is set, but I am unable to find the correct hydrant to send life-giving water coursing through its hose. I drag the surface hoses here and there, seeking out sprinklers whose nozzles turn correctly and trying to scientifically ascertain the best placement for maximum useful watering. To add to the excitement, there are numerous gopher holes hidden beneath the lush green clover. The pack of dogs, including Murphy and Rowdy who always come along, follow me about, but refuse to give me any real help, although I’m sure they know this stuff far better than I do.
The front yard with new shrubs and lots of flowers and vines, cannot be allowed to dry out. One of the hoses in this locale has an interesting, if a bit scary, appearance. It appears swollen and bloated in several places, rather like a black snake that is swallowing a mouse, or a guinea pig. It seems it got too hot in the sun or something; anyway I’ve never seen anything like it. For the first couple of days, it works great, but lately the water flow has been reduced to a trickle. I examined the length of the hose for kinks, but all seems to be clear. But when I hold the end of this hose, I can feel it gurgling and vibrating like there is something in there that badly wants to come out. There are a couple of things that come to mind: either the guinea pig is still alive, or the water flow is trying to work its way around said 'pig', being digested in the bowels of the monster hose-snake.
Inside the house are evidences of further mystery: the window air conditioner has no discernible means turning it on; the telephone answering machine has no obvious means of listening to messages. The quantity of oreos on the table is diminishing day by day.
. And so, Pat, my hat is off to you. Not only is your yard full of beautiful and interesting flora (and fauna, I guess), but you have also mastered a watering system more complicated and problematic than the roman aqueducts and viaducts. But don’t mind me; really I’ll be okay. It’s just a good thing you remembered to leave me plenty of cookies.

Hydra-challenged UltraMom

For some time now, UltraDad has been desiring, coveting, and longing for a nice, comfortable, reliable 4-wheel drive pickup. Considering his hard work and ‘luck of the lemon’ with several previous pick-ups, I was inclined to agree in his deservedness of this man-toy. Vehicle prices in this neck of the woods (or desert) ran a little high, so a pickup-purchasing pilgrimage to Idaho seemed to be indicated. We timed our trip by highly scientific means: the planets alignment in the nighttime sky, and the timing of UltraDad’s 7 days off, mostly, I guess, the latter. I procured a couple of extra days off myself, and Friday morning early found us on the road, sans dogs, bound for Idaho. We would be staying with UDad’s brother & wife, Chuck and Joy, and gone much of the time. I would miss “my boys’, but knew “Granny Pat,” as Rowdy and Murphy call her, would take could care of them.
Those of you who are intimately or even casually acquainted with UltraMom will be surprised to learn that we left the house promptly at 8:30 A.M. Is UltraMom becoming, at last, better organized and self-motivated? Not really; but she had a dentist appt at 9:00 and was very motivated to have her molar, which had received a temporary crown a week before, stop throbbing. Did the continued pain and temperature sensitivity indicate that a root canal might, after all, be called for? The answer from Dr. Couch was “Yes.” She was actually ready to get started when I reminded her of my little dental procedure problem(s). I have some TMJ going on in my jaws, and when my mouth is forced to remain open for long periods of time, my jaws ache for days. “I had actually forgotten about that. We should just refer you to a specialist,” she said, obviously relieved to have an excuse for not working on such a whiner. I was relieved as well because I wanted to be on my way, and the pain was manageable with some good drugs. As a matter of fact, it is still being managed in that way, but that won’t last much longer, I’m afraid.
We got to Twin Falls in time for lunch, and UltraMom indulged in a Navajo Taco, which I think is much the same as an Indian Taco: chilli, sour cream, salsa, avocado and cheese on a fried scone. I think UltraDad had his usual burger. We then hit a few used car lots and even test-drove a few pickups, but it was just too hot and we were too loggy, so we didn’t look much.
I was looking forward to our trip for another reason besides vehicle shopping, which is actually not all that much fun for me: Jim and Jessica were going to be in Howe, so we would see them as well as Chuck and Joy & Bill and Patty. We knew we wouldn’t arrive in time to join the lot of them in going out to dinner that evening, so we decided to stop in Arco, on our way, and get a pizza. Arco Service’s Hot Stuff Pizzeria sells a vegetarian pizza topped with, among other veggies, sliced green olives, a topping I have not seen offered anywhere else. It was our favorite, and we hadn’t had one since we moved to the Silver State. It would be a half hour wait for our pizza, so I had a great idea. “Let’s go visit Sharon and Earl.” They were some of my favorite people. Sharon and I used to work together, and remained friends after our employment opportunities took different turns. Earl used to coach Jim in community basketball, and Jim thinks the world of both he and Sharon. I think the feeling is mutual. We had a pleasant hour or so catching up, and made the last leg of our trip, arriving ‘home’ before the dinner goers by 20 minutes or so.
The next morning we perused the ‘Thrifty Nickel” and “Auto Seller” ads Jim had procured for us, and prepared to make the 70 minute drive to Idaho Falls to begin our search. I was overjoyed when Jim announced that he and Jessica would accompany us. UDad, he decided could use his bargaining expertise. He was right.
Once in town, we began stopping at car lots and soon refined our technique. A quick drivethru was often all that was required to see that this particular lot had nothing to offer us. UltraDad had decided he wanted something around the year “2000” in 4 wheel drive, preferably with under 100,000 miles on the odometer and in the neighborhood of $10,000. This proved to be a rare commodity. There were several older ones with many more miles and quantities of 2003’s and 04’s for many more dollars. At Hill’s Auto (I think it was) we test-drove a bright yellow 2000 Dodge Laramie that seemed to hold promise. Jim loved the color; UDad: not so much. At Smiley’s Automotive, we found a red 2000 Ford F-150, but it had over 100,000 miles on it, and the sticker price was over $13,000. Jim got them to lower it to $10,750, so it remained on the short list. In a shopping plaza parking lot, several used car dealers had set up mini off-site sale yards, operating out of parked motor homes. We test drove a red dodge, and the guys liked many things about it, but UDad was leary of all the ‘extras’ previous owners had added to jazz it up, like lights on the hood and other accessories, even though Jim got the price talked down a fair piece. There was a privately owned truck the guys wanted to look at in Pocatello, and we hit a few lots in Blackfoot on the way over. UltraMom started getting a bit more savvy by this time, as well as hot and tired, and if we passed a lot with phone number posted, she just called and inquired. Like I said, pickups fitting UDad’s criteria were not plentiful.
As we drove, Jim asked me to call Johnny. “Have him look these pickups up on the computer and see what the Blue Book value is,” he instructed. He then proceeded to give me a list of other things to have Johnny find out. It is difficult for me, and I’ll bet for you too, to carry on a conversation while trying to relay another person’s input to said conversationer. I thought I was asking what Jim wished to know. “What is the average miles for a pickup of this age?” I asked. “No,” corrected Jim, “What I want to know is what mileage the truck should get.” “Okay, Johnny,” I patiently continued, “I guess what we need to know is the miles per hour.” As soon as I heard those words leave my mouth, I knew there was something wrong with that, and Johnny confirmed my hunch. “The miles per hour? Why did they put YOU on the phone? Is this just some kind of joke?” Good point. Why DID they have me make the call?
After going through the car lots in Pocatello, we made our way to the private residence where a silver, 2000 Dodge resided. The owner wasn’t home, but his wife readily lent the keys for a test drive, and assured us they had never had a moment’s trouble with it. It seemed nice to me, but UDad was not ready to make a decision. And it was getting late. If we left soon, we would be back in time for Bill and Patty’s BBQ. Our old car had other ideas. It refused to start. After the requisite peering under the hood, I called a tow truck, covered under my AARP motoring plan. I was told the tow would arrive in less than 40 minutes. We were happy to see them in less than 20 min. Of course, by this time on a Saturday night, all repair shops were closed, but the tow truck driver knew of a shop where the car could be parked and keys left in a drop box. I asked him if he could take us to Sizzlers where Heather works, which he was happy to do.
I ran in, excusing my way in front of lined up patrons to ascertain that indeed Heather WAS working that night. She seemed excited to see us, and quickly claimed a table in her section for our use, as well as getting us a $15 credit. I made my way back to the end of the line to wait with the others, and we all ordered the salad bar. I was excited to learn that UltraDad could, at last, use his age to advantage, and made sure he ordered the reduced price SENIOR salad bar. Heather couldn’t do enough for us, making sure our drink glasses were filled and stopping to visit for a few minutes when her busy schedule would allow. I filled out the comment card, avowing that this was the best service I had ever had, and we left a pretty good tip. As we ate, Jim made a little chart of the 4 pickups under consideration, so UDad could see at a glance what were the advantages and disadvantages of each. This ended up being a great help.
Meanwhile, we had been in phone contact with Patty, with the result that Bill drove to Pocatello to pick us up, a pretty major imposition. Sometimes its pretty nice to have family around. And I have to give a lot of credit to Jim and especially to Jessica. This cannot be the way they would have chosen to spend their day together, but they were such good sports about the whole thing.
On Sunday, most car lots are closed, so we got a break from pickup shopping and got to relax and spend time with family and friends. Jim, Jessica and I went to church, which I really enjoyed. That evening, Chuck made some killer BBQ ribs with his secret sauce, which I could only find out the ingredients for if I were willing to be killed. I wasn’t, so the secret remains.
It turned out that the timing of our trip to Idaho had been good; the papers to finalize the sale of the farm were finally ready to be signed. Chuck gave us a ride to the title company in Blackfoot, and asked astute questions as UltraDad and I signed document after document. It seemed needlessly lengthy and complicated to me, but that’s only because it was.
Then, on to town for more fun pickup shopping. By now, UDad had refined his search even more, and decided he would only buy a Ford. He knew too many Dodge owners who had had transmission problems. I wanted to expedite the process if I could; I knew Heather had the day off, so I gave her a call. “Honey, could you call some of the auto dealers in Idaho Falls, Blackfoot and Pocatello?” I asked her. “See if they have anything that fits this description:Ford F150 4 wheel drive pickup, extended cab, long bed, year around 2000 for near $10,000.” She ended calling every place listed in the yellow pages. Every once in a while she would give me an update, but likely candidates were rare.
UltraDad had been seriously thinking about the red Ford he had test-driven at Smiley’s on Saturday, but when Heather called them, they said the pickup they had was not a long bed. I concluded the one we looked at must have been sold, but when we finally drove by their lot, it was still there.
The salesperson remembered us, and remembered the reduced price. After another test drive, with Chuck’s valuable input, it seemed that UDad was going to go for it. While the guys talked, I surreptitiously called Jim at work. “I really think you guys can get the price down more,” Jim coached me. “They dropped the price for me awfully fast.” But by the time I rejoined the others, the deal had been made. UDad maintains they would not go any lower, and after all the calling and looking we had done, I think we got a pretty fair deal.
I will spare you the tedious details of the financing and numerous document signings, but in just a few short hours, UDad was, at long last, the proud owner of the newest vehicle he had ever owned. I called Johnny to let him know. “What I really want to know,” I said humorously, “are the miles per hour.” “That,” Johnny said thoughtfully, “depends on the acceletron and the brakometer and the pressure being applied to each at a given time.” He is so smart.
Jim was just off work by this time, so we all drove to Pocatello to pay a King’s ransom to get my car out of the repair shop, and to have dinner with Heather at a restaurant called “Oliver’s” as she seemed adverse to dining at Sizzlers. I had wisely brought my gear so I could head back to Nevada if time and pickup purchasing would allow, and now it seemed a good idea to crash at Heather and Heath’s in Pocatello and drive back early the next morning as I had to be at work early in the afternoon. Heather and I had a great time. After the boys left she looked me in the eye. “Want to go shopping?” she smiled. Of course I did! We slowly shopped our way through Ross’ entire store until they were ready to close, and then drove to Heather and Heath’s nice townhouse apartment. My grandcats were all glad to see me, especially Callie who was determined to sit on my lap and be petted.
Heather and Heath have a new game system called the “Wii”, an interactive system where you actually swing your arm, with controller attached, to bowl, play tennis or play baseball. While Heather went to pick Heath up from work, I decide to give baseball a try. After a few games, I finally started getting the hang of it. I was excited to, at last, hit a home run, and I was jumping in the air screaming “Yes, Yes!” when the door opened. The kids were glad (an amused, I think) to see my enjoyment of their ‘new toy.”
The next day, all went as planned, and I arrived home in time to fulfill all my duties. UltraDad stayed in Howe an extra day to relax and show his pickup off to more people.
Now, for a little off-road 4-wheeling!

UltraMom

The new pickup. A real beauty!

Heather and Heath

Jim and Jessia

Jim's smashing new mustache. He and Jessica kept me quite entertained on the ride home from Pocatello in the back seat of Bill's car.

UltraMom attempting to reenact the excitement of the home run

Well, UltraFans, a lot has happened since my last post. The pond, for the time being, is, as they say “Yesterday’s Newspaper.” What is today’s news, you ask? Why, UltraDad’s new-to-him pickup, of course.
But before I give UltraDad and his new vehicle center stage, lets back up for a moment to July 11, 2007 and focus, for a paragraph or two on UltraMom’s birthday. She does so love her birthdays, doesn’t she?
The day started off with great promise; while checking my e-mail, who should I find on Skype, but that oldest Ultra-Son of mine. Now, once upon a time, in the Land of the Rising Sun, UltraMom, UltraBob, UltraGirl, UltraHeather and UltraUltraGirl’sBrother were doing a little Karoke together. The evening’s festivities began with UltraBob doing a rendition of The Red Hot Chili Pepper’s, “Soul to Squeeze.” UltraMom was blown away; I mean I knew that son of mine could sing a little, but this was fantastic. Several times after that night I pleaded, whined and otherwise made my wishes known: “All I want for my birthday is a recording of you singing that first song from karaoke.” It seems that for once in his young life, UBob had taken my words to heart and that morning in an audio file, he sent me the song. “It’s also on a CD,” he explained on the phone a few moments later. “You should be receiving it soon in the mail.” I did, that very day. It was every bit as good as I remembered, and I have now listened to it approximately 150 times. All of my friends, relatives and casual acquaintances agree that it is superb, including Ubob’s siblings, which is high praise indeed. I am awaiting the next release with breathless anticipation, and can only hope it will include UltraGirl’s performance of that old Carpenter’s tune “Top of the World.”
While chatting with the Ultras that morning, a rare treat indeed, I suddenly remembered that I had a haircut appt in exactly 35 minutes, and I was still in my jammies. It takes me 30 minutes to make the drive to ‘Tangles”, where Paula is becoming increasingly skillful at learning what I and my hair are like. No time for a shower; quick sponge bath, throw on some clothes and out the door, as my phone rings again. It’s my brother Dan and sister in law Mary calling to wish me… you know. “I’ll call you back in a few,” I promise, running out the door.
Once in the car, my cell phone rings. Sister in law Jane (married to the other brother, Dave) calling to wish me….well, you know. Before the day was out, I would have talked to, or had messages from all of my siblings and their spouses, all of my offspring and their wives/and or girlfriends. I’m sure I would also have talked to their boyfriends if they hadn’t had to work that evening. Brother Dave left me multiple messages hoping to earn credit for most birthday messages left, but had stiff competition from sisters Francie and Panther. I felt totally loved and connected; almost worth turning 53.
After the haircut, I moseyed on down to the college to see if my 30 year old transcripts had yet arrived. They were finally able to locate them when I finally remembered that back in those days my last name had been different.. Hmmm.. not too bad. I was smarter than I had thought: a 3.65 for three semesters. My gpa had been brought down a bit by classes such as ‘bowling’ and ‘skiing’. Of course, my calculus, french and biology might be a bit rusty after this many years.
Lunch was a real treat. Pat met me in Elko and bought me lunch at The Star, a local Basque restaurant that serves the best steak sandwiches on the planet. The fries and salad aren’t too bad either. After a quick stop at the Seahorse Aquarium so Pat could purchase a couple of new additions for her fish tank, and the obligatory stop at Walmart, it was time to head home. UltraMom had a job to go to.
Normally, Wednesday is my day off, but sometimes I can opt to work a Wednesday and take another day, say Friday or Monday off instead. This weekend I would be taking off both a Friday and a Monday, so working today seemed a good idea. Besides, I knew my inmate employees, Randy and Brain, would want to wish me a happy….you know.
At Walmart, I had purchased a small cake from the sale basket; it even said “Happy Birthday” across the top, so I brought it to work, and we all enjoyed it. Earlier in the week, Randy and Brain had brought me a birthday cake of their own. This culinary confection was a square of banana-walnut bread frosted with sweetened peanut butter. If you think this sounds delicious, you are absolutely right. I also received a poster-sized ‘birthday card.” In the center is a beautifully drawn and shaded orange butterfly surrounded by green-stemmed flowers with white petals. Many of the inmates (and one officer!) wrote personal birthday greetings. It was a great feeling to know that many of them appreciate the good job I try to do, in spite of the fact that store prices are continually rising and I’m not always able to carry some of their desired merchandise.
When John got off work, Pat came over and we feasted on Walmart fried chicken, coleslaw, potato salad and coconut cream birthday pie. You can never have too many desserts on your birthday, I always say. I got some really cool birthday gifts: a cute shirt & rose petal soap in a really pretty round box from Dan & Mary, drawer sachet, my favorite lip balm and the most interesting bracelets I've ever seen: they are inscribed with parts of I Cor 13, English and Spanish; and from Heather & Heath? Why my favorite Bath & Body works lotions and body washes. I esp love the sandalwood; a new scent for me. Of course I had received some gifts early: my pond and digital camera. The rest of the day was taken up with listening to and returning my phone messages. Now THAT’s what I’m talking about!

Join me next time for….UltraDad’s new pickup. Right now I think I’ll go listen to my CD again…and again…and again….

UltraMom

UltraMom talking to one of her many callers who phoned to wish her….well, you know…. (Taken with new Kodak 8 Megapixel camera)

It is time, once again, for UltraMom’s birthday. At least it will be in a couple of days, but true to form, UltraMom is already celebrating. I mean, why take a birthDAY when you can have a birthWEEK, or even a birthMONTH, right?
It all started with the arrival of the two youngest UltraSons on the evening of July 3. They had each wrangled some time off work in conjunction with the natural holiday of our country’s birthday on July 4th. I had been cleaning and planning favorite meals for days and arrived home from work and Weightwatchers just in time to catch Johnny’s phone call. “We are just a few hours away, but Jim has a stomach virus. Can you go to the store and pick up some gatorade and chicken soup?”
“Sure, the store is open for another 15 minutes. Maybe I should get some juice too and maybe some 7-up and jello…..”
“Didn’t you say the store closes in 15 minutes? Maybe you should get off the phone and go now.”
Yeah, maybe I should. It turned out that Jim was pretty sick. He had even gone to the Dr. earlier that day and had to be given fluids intravenously; he was that dehydrated.
When the boys arrived, Jim made it as far as UltraDad’s big recliner, and except for bathroom breaks (frequent) and an occasional sojourn to the couch, that was pretty much his home for the next 2 days. I kept him supplied with fluids and tried to get him to eat some chicken noodle soup and jello, but the first solid food he wanted was a chorrizo, a very spicy hot dog.
Johnny, in the meantime, got to work on my birthday present: a pond and waterfall in the corner of my backyard. He had already purchased some of the components, such as a preformed waterfall, pump, filter, and my favorites: a solar powered light up water lily and a stone turtle that could spit out water if you attached a hose to his backside. Johnny kept threatening to do it the other way around. On the 4th of July, while UltraDad and Jimbo were slumbering, we went over to the Pawelek house a few blocks down the street to view the waterfall/stream/pond that had been designed and installed by Nate, the 16 yr old son. It was fantastic. A high waterfall tumbled down carefully placed rocks, while part of the flow meandered along a spillway down the side. The stream was lined with stones, and the large pond contained a few fish, captured from a local river. Interesting plants were in and around the water. As I “oohed” and “ahed”, Johnny kept glancing at me nervously. “Mom,” he finally said, “you do realize that your pond will be nothing like this one, don’t you?” Yes, Honey, I know and my pond will be just fine.
I made pizza on Friday, happy that Jim seemed back to his old self. Each pizza contained different toppings per preference of my two sons of honor. Jim’s pizza came out first. Johnny cut large slices for everyone, and I began to be concerned that Jim might not get enough. After all, he had been sick. He needed to gain his strength back. In hindsight, I probably didn’t need to go as far as having Johnny take back the piece he had just served his Dad. In the end, Johnny’s pizza was nearly gone, requiring him to remove mushrooms and forego green olives if he wanted leftovers. “Jim, tell Jessica that my pizza was better than hers,” I said teasingly. “I can’t say that.” he replied. “We are not yet in the lying phase of our relationship.” Seems that Jessica is still the reigning pizza queen.
There were lots of trips to Home Depot for supplies. The first trip, Johnny and I had looked at some preformed pools, but obtaining the price for them turned out to be nigh impossible. In the end we bought pond liner to freeform our own pond. I will spare you all the details of pond planning and implementing, but lets just say that Johnny did a lot of digging, and he and I both did a lot of agonizing and second guessing before the two practical & mechanically minded members of the family were in near possession of their full faculties and could help.
Another trip to Home Depot, this time with everyone, including Pat, who was planning to install a pond of her own. After another look at the preformed ponds, UltraMom was determined to find out what they cost. A friendly young man with a peculiar gait, wearing an orange Home Depot apron, did his best to help. As we talked, his story came out: “Several years ago, I went off the bottom end of Lamoille Canyon on my motorcycle going 80 mph. I had a broken arm, a ruptured spleen and severe brain damage. I was the first one in the county to be Lifelited to the hospital, and from there I was taken to SLC. My heart stopped 9 times during the operations and I had to learn to eat, walk, talk, etc all over again.” I admired his courage and determination. After being routed through several clerks, we finally found a manager who could do the necessary computer lookup. “Thanks for sticking with it and helping me with this,” I told the young man. “Ma’am if I was the kind to give up, I wouldn’t be alive today. Why, I was riding my motorcycle in Lamoille Canyon, and I went off the edge going 80 mph. I had to be lifelited….” The story came out a couple of more times, esp when a new person showed up to check on my progress. I can only guess that was part of his brain damage. We were in Johnny’s car, so the purchase of the pond would have to wait for another time, probably going through the arduous price look-up process all over again.
In honor of my upcoming birthday, I got to select the eatin’ joint, and I opted for Dos Amigos, my favorite Elko Mexican restaurant. Since UltraDad doesn’t particulary enjoy this cuisine, we don’t usually eat there, but my birthday seems to bring out the self indulgent in me, and he was able to get a chicken sandwich and fries while the rest of us enjoyed fajitas, tacos, enchiladas and chimichangas.
After lunch, UltraDad expressed a desire to check out Office Max. The rest of us were slower and when I went over to collect him, I found him in earnest examination of digital cameras. “Ah,” he said in an exaggerated tone of annoyance that ended up sounding a bit relieved, “I want to get you a new digital camera for you birthday, but I guess it isn’t a surprise anymore. Well, since you’re here, what do you think of this one?” What a sweetie. I ended up liking “this one”, a Kodak C386, I think, and it was a good price. I have the option to take it back, but so far I’m leaning towards keeping.
We headed back to Carlin, but as we neared the tunnels, we could see there was a problem. Traffic was backed up; in fact it was not moving. On the hillsides to the right the hills were smoking and blazing with rings of fire. Well, we knew this was going to be a bad year for fires. Fortunately, after waiting a mere half hour or so, traffic started moving again and we were able to get home.
We played a little more pinochle, something it seemed we were doing whenever there was a little lull in other activities. It was fun, but serious card players would probably be rolling over in their graves, or, if still alive, cringing, to watch us play. I mean, our team, which consisted of me and the jinx, who kept me from hardly ever winning, played pretty much on the up and up, but the other team, cheated blatantly. The jinx and the cheaters varied from game to game. The only near-constant was my near-lack of cheating and near-lack of winning.
Then Pat had a great idea, first proposed by me hours ago, but subsequently discarded as insane. “Let’s go to Home Depot in my pickup and get your preform pool.” Somehow, it seemed saner now that I was less exhausted, so off we went, just her and me, back into Elko. I called the Sheriff’s Office to make sure the road was open, going both ways. It was to be a fast trip. I had a list and we had a purpose. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop at Builder’s Mart?” I asked my companion. “There is a pond book there I want to buy.” As I was perusing the said pond book, Pat was checking out the store. What she found was a display of pond stuff at clearance 1/2 off. There were pumps, so I called home with specs, as we had determined that the pump currently in possession would not be adequate for our baby-monster waterfall output. That done, I moved on to filters. The pump and filters were different brands, and try as I might, I could not ascertain if any of the filters would be compatible with my pump in hand. But I found a pkg of something called pond-liner; a felt type material to put under pond lining material. I got a heck of a deal on that: FREE! Neither the cashier or her manager could find it in the store database, so they just gave it to me. By that time, I had decided not to buy the pond book. I liked the one they had in Home Depot better.
So, off to Home Depot to get an the pond, extension cord, and 1 inch corrugated hose and clamps. Pat had decided, by this time, to get one too. While asking for help to make sure I got the correct hose size, I ran into the same young employee from earlier in the day. The garden section of the store was muggy and humid. “You are still working?” I greeted him. “I’ll bet you will be glad when your shift is over. You must be dying in this heat.” “No, if I were going to die, it would have been a couple of years ago when I had this accident. You see, I was riding my motorcycle in Lamoille Canyon, and ….”
While Pat gassed up her pickup, I went over to Papa Murphy’s to pick up a couple of take and bake pizzas for dinner. They had one called a “Perfect Pizza”, half Hawaiian and half Pepperoni. I ordered one, and then, deciding I needed two pizzas, ordered another. It occurred to me, as I watched the pizzas being assembled that I could, perhaps have just ordered one of each.
Back on the road again, but wait…. what is going on here? Semi trucks are parked off the road and traffic is backed up. People are walking around. It seems that the fire has perked up and we are not going to be able to get back home, at least not for a few hours. Resignedly we turn around and head back into Elko. Maybe a little shopping at JC Penney’s will lift our spirits. As I am selecting shoes and a few shirts off the sale rack, my cell phone rings. “We are coming into Elko to have dinner with you,” UltraDad announces. I tried to talk him out of this insanity, but I’ve got to admit it made me feel good that they wanted to spend this time with us. Secretly, I think they just didn’t want to eat leftovers. By the time our meal was over, the road was open again and we drove home through a surreal scene of blazing hillsides with men walking about in the midst of the fire. Once home, we soon fell exhausted into our beds.
The next day, Sunday, my erstwhile pond builders had to leave. Pond building would have to fall to the UltraParents or wait til the boys could come out again. Later on that day, UltraDad got busy, and with help from UltraMom and Pat, got the pond lined, instalaled and lined about the rim with attractive pavings stones excavated from the lawn. The waterfall? To be continued.

UltraMom

UltraDad working on the pond

I’m betting that just reading the word, “fishing”, has conjured up, for many of you, childhood memories involving Dad, nature, and photos of a smiling you holding a stringer-full of trout. In fact, I don’t remember the actual fishing as much as just being with my hero-Dad in a beautiful outdoor setting, and the pride I felt when I could finally cast my line out in the lake by myself. At that time, the art of fishing seemed fairly straight-forward. You stick a worm or lure on the end of your hook, throw the thing into the water, and wait for a tug to tell you a fish has taken the bait.
The most fun I ever had fishing was in a little stream of water called “Deer Creek.” Be sure you pronounce “Creek” as “Crick,” if you don’t want to show your city-boy ignorance. This was about 50 miles north of Howe, and in our dating days, UltraDad took me there a couple of times. Later on, we would take the kids.
This little crick was probably no more than 3-4 feet wide, at its widest, and the banks were lined with scratchy wild rosebushes, willows, grasses and the occasional wild flower. Once, I remember, UltraDad’s mother fell and got wedged in a narrow spot in the crick. She had to be pulled out, much to everyone’s amusement, particularly her own. Now, here’s how to fish a crick. You set out with your pole, container of worms and a forked willow branch. (I remember having a handy little belt-attached worm holder for awhile. When I needed a fresh worm, I reached to the worm box at my hip, popped open the top and got one.) Mainly because of the rosebushes, there are only certain places where you can get in close to the stream. When you spot one of those, as you walk along, you work your way in and look things over. Could you drop a line in there without getting snarled on roots or rocks? Was there a shady little pool where a fish might lurk? Usually you just try it anyway. If you do get a snag, its usually not that hard to reach in and extricate your hook from the mossy log. But chances are good that you catch a fish, or at least get a nibble. The trout aren’t that big, but they sure are fun to catch. If they are too small, and haven’t swallowed the hook, you could let them go, but mostly we kept them. For keeping and transport, just slide one side of your willow creel through the fish’s gill, and don’t forget to pick up your fish when you move to the next spot. You can nearly always catch your limit, 10 in the early days, later dropping to 6.
Fishing now is an iffier proposition, but just a couple of miles from my house is a little pond. I got the fishing bug again the day I watched Amy catch two fish there. Amy and her sister, Rachel, and mom, Debbie were visiting me for a few days, and, as Amy had never been fishing before, that was one thing on her wish-agenda. With patient UltraDad as teacher, Amy quickly perfected her casting technique, but it wasn’t until nearly dark, when the mosquitoes had sent her mom and sister back to my house, that the fish finally started biting. I tried to fish too, but was pretty rusty with my own casting technique, and got my line hopelessly snarled before I could get the worm near the water. I told Amy that, as she only had a one-day license, she needed to do any and all fishing she wanted to do right then and there. “But what happens if I get caught fishing one minute past midnight?” she wanted to know. UltraDad was quick with the comeback, “Let’s just say, you’ll be shopping at Kathy’s store!” Kathy’s store, you will remember, is in a men’s prison! “Well,” shot back Amy, “At least I’d get to see her every day.” Thanks, Amy.
We, UltraDad, Pat and I tried the pond ourselves, just last weekend, but the only bites we were getting were from the numerous mosquitoes. Just between you and me, I don’t think our fishing was helped much by the two young men who showed up with a couple of hunting dogs. They turned the dogs loose to run and play, and then couldn’t get them to come back. The pair raced around the pond, splashing in the water, completely ignoring the frantic humans chasing and calling. One of their names was “Train,” I believe. “Those dogs remind me of “Thing 1 and Thing 2” from “The Cat in the Hat,” I observed humorously. “They are running around wrecking everything, and those guys can’t get them back.” In response, I got blank, confused stares from my fishing partners. Some people have no appreciation for good literature.
The next day, UltraDad wanted to try something different. I read “Joe’s Fishing Hole” in the local paper to get the fishing report. That was when I realized that fishing was, perhaps, a more complicated, or at least incomprehensible sport than I had realized. The report for one fairly local lake read: “Everything from flashy flies to crankbaits to jiggs and bait are working for the perch. Rubber gear and crankbaits are working for the smallmouths. One wiper 15 inches or longer may be kept.” What kind of wiper? A windshield wiper? The report for Angel Lake sounded promising: “Fishing here has been good one day and fair the next when it is windy. When they are hitting, it doesn’t seem to matter what you throw at them. Spinners, PowerBait, worms, flies, the kitchen sink, it just doesn’t matter. The lake is stocked with rainbow and brook trout. The occasional tiger trout is even caught. The really great thing about Angel Lake is that it is about 10 degrees cooler than the lower elevation lakes making for a very pleasant day. ”
Pat agreed to come along, which we were glad of for several reasons. First, we really enjoy her company. Second, she drove her car which has air conditioning, a convenience currently lacking in all of the Ultra vehicles. We packed a picnic, folding chairs, fishing gear, two poodles, and we were off.
When we arrived, UtraDad was ecstatic to behold two men getting ready to launch pontoon boats onto the lake. One, the FishCat Panther, was just like the one he had been thinking about getting. The friendly fishermen, recreating firefighters from Reno, were more than happy to answer all his questions. Meanwhile, UltraMom and Pat were rooting around in the trunk for coats/jackets. It was a very cold, windy day, though UltraDad stubbornly claimed it was ‘comfortable.’ We had many exciting adventures, which included nearly having a chair or two blow into the lake. Murphy and Rowdy considered it their sworn duty to bark at any dog in the vicinity, of which there were many. UltraMom was extremely hit and miss with her casting. Once for every 5-6 casts, the worm made it into the water, but when the cast was good, it was very good. At the end of the day, we had each caught a fish. UltraMom’s, a tiger trout, was by far the biggest. The other two were cute little baby rainbows. UltraDad got several pictures of the pontoon boats in action.
UltraMom was very glad to finally get a chance to indoctrinate her last-year’s birthday gift of a new fishing pole. Maybe there will be more fishing in her future; maybe even more ‘catching.’ And just maybe, if she uses the right crankbaits and rubber gear, she might even catch a wiper.
UltraMom

I have been learning a lot about myself lately. This search for my perfect career has taken me through some rigorous personality testing, with Placement and Aptitude tests to follow.
I am, as it turns out, an INFP. For those of you unfamiliar with the Myers/Briggs personality types, that is Introverted (vs Extroverted), Intuition (vs Sensing), Feeling (vsThinking) and Perceiving (vs Judging). That, the literature is quick to explain, does not mean that I don’t use the opposing functions; merely that the dominant ones are my preferred or more natural ways of thought and action. For a person who prides herself on usually being on a fairly even emotional keel and being, generally, logical, this was a bit of a surprise. But reading through the literature, I had to admit that much of the description of this personality type hit just a little too close to home.
Here are some of the highlights:
“Sensitive and perceptive about what others are feeling.” That is ME to a tee!
“Driven to meet others’ needs.” Altruistic UltraMom, that’s me.
“Nurturing, supportive and encouraging.” Just ask any one of my kids….not THAT one….
“Flexible and diverse.” Go do something fun instead of laundry and housecleaning? Let me get my shoes..
“Strive for win-win situation.” Can’t STAND conflict; makes me feel uneasy and unsettled.
“Able to express themselves well.” For me, usually better in writing.

Uh, oh, now we get to the weaknesses:
“Extreme dislike of conflict.” Hey, isn’t that the same as striving for a win-win situation? Good thing, right?
“Extreme dislike of criticism.” I like to think, as I mature, that I am getting better at this. Don’t feel that you need to test me, however.
“Have difficulty scolding or punishing others.” Again, just ask my kids…not THAT one…
“Strong need to receive praise and positive affirmation.” Now you see why your comments are so important to my emotional well being.
Now, this is the good one: “May have trouble with time management and organization.”
In fact this one may be my upper-middle name.

Now its not that I don’t wish to be organized and to manage my time well. My bookshelf is full of unread titles to the contrary: “The Office Clutter Cure”, “Stop Clutter From Stealing Your Life,”, “Getting Organized,”, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People,” “Confessions of an Organized Homemaker,” and this title that I just discovered in a duffle bag only partially unpacked from a fairly recent trip,: “How NOT to be a Messie,” And this is not counting all the self-health-help titles on coping with Diabetes, curing High Cholesterol, eating Low Fat and High Fiber, and getting more and better Exercise. The pattern is always the same. I find myself in a bookstore with a little time and, as I usually feel in need of improvement, start browsing self-help titles. A bold title catches my eye with promises of an easy fix to what is ailing me. After a few seconds of hesitation, I pull the book from the shelf and open to a few random pages. Hey, this is interesting. Its funny and helpful and I might actually read this one. I buy it. At home, I dive in and read the first few chapters with great gusto. Soon, the book is stashed under the bed, where my motto “Out of sight, out of mind” prevails. By the time the tome is rediscovered during a rare rash of under-the-bed cleaning, the mood has passed and the shiny promise of a new me has been put on hold until such time as 1) I learn how to better manage my time, or 2) I become better organized. The endless logic-loop, mobius strip of my life continues.
In retrospect, I am probably not learning new things about myself as much as discovering justification and validation for the things I, honestly, already knew.
But things could be worse. I am, after all, “Always Dreaming of New Possibilities.”

UltraMom, “The Healer”

The other day, while I was passing some time in Elko, I got a phone call on my cell. It was Johnny. You may remember this guy as a former member of this partnership we call (for some obscure reason) the “Dynamic Duo”. I mean at the present time, we are hardly one, let alone a duo and while UltraMom posts are generally witty and entertaining, I don’t know if I would go so far as to call them “dynamic.” Anyway, Johnny was on a quest: “Mom, can you give me the recipe for your pizza crust? I’m going to try to make pizza today.”
Well, normally I would just go to the cupboard, pull down my Betty Crocker cookbook and squint at the much-used recipe, trying to read measurements through tomato sauce and dough stains, but in this scenario, I tried to go by memory. And one thing to keep in mind throughout the following tortuous conversation: although both Johnny and I have (arguably) quite a way with words, neither of us is…how shall I say it…exactly a math wiz.
UM“I think it’s 2 cups flour, 2 ts baking powder, some salt, 2/3 cup milk, and oil. The oil is either 1/4 cup or 1/2 cup.
“You THINK??!! You think isn’t good enough. Wait, I think I found another likely one online….. 1 cup water? Yeast? No, that isn’t it, darn it…..”
UM“Well, I’m pretty sure about most of it, and you can always start with 1/4 cup oil and add more if it looks like it needs it.”
“Okay,, so 2 Teeblespoons of Powder…”
UM“No, 2 TEASPOONS of BAKING powder.”
“Okay, okay…. Hey I think I found it!~…Betty Crocker?” Reads ingredients.
UM“Yes, that’s it! So, to make two pizza crusts I usually add half again to the ingredient list to make more.”
“So…you times it by 1 1/2?”
UM“Uh….. I just take the ingredient amount, divide it in half, and add that much on top of the original amount.”
“So, 1 1/2 times, right?”
UM“Uh,…sure.”
“So, that would be 1 1/3 cups milk…”
UM“No, it’s 1 cup milk. 2/3 plus half of 2/3 = 1”
“Oh, okay. The oil is 1/4 cup plus 2 TB. How much oil do I put in.”
UM:” I just add 1/4 cup oil and then fill the 1/4 measuring cup 1/2 full and add that. Then I add 2 TB oil and then 1 more TB oil.”
“WHAT? Are you just messing with me? Wouldn’t that be about 1/2 cup oil?”
UM (huffily)“I don’t know. I’m really telling you the way I do it. I add 1/4 cup oil and then.”
“NEVER MIND. I’ll figure it out. And what if I don’t have measuring spoons?”
UM:”Okay, you know the spoon you eat your cereal with? That’s about a teaspoon, and the big one that you eat soup with is about a tablespoon. Don’t you want me to tell you how I roll it out and do the toppings?”
“That’s okay. I’m good. I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

The report back later was that it was good, but a distant third behind Jessica and Mom’s pizza. Maybe I should write a cookbook…

Mom, Jessica and Betty Crocker’s Pizza Dough Recipe
2 cups Flour
2 ts baking powder
1 ts salt
2/3 cups milk
1/4 cup plus 2 TB oil

Add ingredients. Roll out on floured counter with rolling pin until thin and approx size and shape of your baking pan. Works better if you let it rest about 10 minutes before rolling out. Sometimes I prebake the crust a little before adding ingredients and sometimes I don’t.
Oh, and for 2 large, rectangular pans, you might want to add half again the amount of ingredients, or, I guess, 1 1/2 times the recipe.

Your Gourmet Chef,
UltraMom

Today is UltraDad’s birthday. It is a momentous one because it numbers an even decade. I’ll leave you to figure out which one, but lets just say it rhymes with “chixty.”
Fortunately, UltraDad is on a 3-day break from work, because the weekend had a few surprises in store for our birthday hero. It turns out a few people think quite a lot of UltraDad and drove a good distance to help him celebrate. The whole thing was to have been a surprise, but UltraMom ended up partially spilling the beans to give the guy something to look forward to at the end of a grueling stint of work at the mine. “The boys (ie Johnny and Jim) are coming up next weekend for your birthday,” I informed him last weekend as he was preparing for night shifts, never his favorite. “Cool!” he brightened. “We’ll have to think of some fun things to do.”
What he didn’t know was that his favorite daughter Heather and Jim’s girlfriend Jessica were also going to be there, as well as his brother Bill and sister Kathy. (We were sorry that Heather’s boyfriend Heath, not able to get the time off work, couldn’t make it. We missed you, Heath.) Also showing up were sister Pat (not such a surprise, as she lives in the same town we do, but always a pleasure), and niece-in-law Çortney with 5 month old baby Wynn. UDad walked in the door Friday morning just after 8:00 to find several of his children and siblings involved in a pinochle game. I wish I had captured on film the look on his face.
Of course, he had to go to bed for a while, so we went into town to scope out some possible Birthday gifts befitting this milestone in UltraDad’s life. Thanks to UltraJimbo and UltraUncleBill who understand these things, everyone pitched in to get some accessories for his workshop saws. I did not think the huge boxes would fit into my car, but Jimbo got them wedged in the backseat. This made the ride back a little more squishy, and Jessica had to ride back on Jim’s lap. Tall, pretty Jessica has not an ounce of extra weight, so I found it hard to believe Jim’s assertions that he was being crushed.
UDad got up just after noon, and we had a great afternoon. The focal point was a cooperative barbecue with grilled hamburgers, chorizos and bratwursts accompanied by chips, macaroni salad, baked beans, watermelon, and, of course, the birthday cake. This was a delicious carrot cake with lemon frosting, made by Pat, and decorated by Jessica. M & M’s formed a large “60” on the cake top with candles around the perimeter. Some candles were left over, so those Jessica put in the cake center in the shape of a wigwam. When lit, those babies really put forth a flame, let me tell you.

A Birthday Pyre

Baby Wynn was a great source of entertainment. He is adorable with lots of wavy hair and an infectious, happy grin. He laughed with pleasure when his cute mother, Cortney blew raspberries on his tummy, underarms and chubby little cheeks, and he tolerated being held by cousins, friends and aunts, as long as mom wasn’t too far away. Another great source of fun was watching UltraDad, Bill and Jimbo try to assemble the 5-drawer tool chest. I think they finally, grudgingly, resorted to reading the instructions.
Some of us also played a little pinochle and a little Bocce Ball, at which the team combo of Jim and Jessica (dubbed “Jimica” or Jessikim” by Johnny) pretty much dominated. All in all, it was a perfect day. UltraDad avers if it can be duplicated he will turn “60” again next year.
The next day, Saturday, we were down to Jim, Johnny, Jessica and Heather. It was a beautiful day, so we decided to have a picnic in Lamoille Canyon, about an hour drive away. Jim also wanted to show Jessica the wildlife museum in Elko, so that was our first stop. They got some fun museum photos of “Jessica being eaten by the crocodile”, “Jessica being frightened by the bear,” and “Jessica with antlers.” We had brought the little boys along (you know, Murphy and Rowdy), so Johnny and I opted to take them to the nearby city park since we had already seen the museum. Noting the time, well past the noon hour, it seemed a better idea to us to picnic in the city park and then drive to the scenic canyon, so Umom left the boys in charge of Johnny and went to the nearest grocery store in search of provender to round out the already packed ham sandwiches, drinks and potato chips. It all worked out according to plan, except that UltraMom had just a tiny bit of trouble relocating the area of the park where she had left the three boys (I know, I know, hard to believe). The hungry museum goers, as it turns out, were quite happy to eat now rather than later.
The drive up Lamoille canyon is scenic, though a bit windy, but the road is good.
Lamille Canyon
At the top, there is a turnaround, but we left the car in the provided parking lot and let out to explore a little. Right now there is still a lot of snow at this high elevation, and a lot of boggy mud, created by the streams and melting snow. I think it was Johnny who threw the snowball heard round the world, and so “it was on.” UltraMom did her best to stay neutral in the Snowball Wars. Heather did for awhile, but in the end could not resist the allure of sisterly revenge. I think poor Jessica got plastered more than her fair share of times, but she was definitely fighting back. Meanwhile, Murphy and Rowdy were thoroughly happy and muddy exploring the nearby trails with the help of Heather and UltraMom. We finally loaded back into the car, a little wetter, a little dirtier and a little wearier than when we’d arrived and headed back home. On the way, Jim and Jessica read us some Trivial Pursuit questions we had brought along. We were kind of playing “boys against girls’, and if memory serves, and it generally does, the girls ended up with the most wins. As we drove, we anticipated the homemade pizza we would be having for dinner.

Johnny, UltraDad, UltraMom, UltraJimbo and Jessica

Now, UltraMom has long been famous for her homemade pizza, and sometime last year, Jim had persuaded her to share her ultrasecret-Betty-Crocker-cookbook recipe with Jessica. I’ve got to admit, the pupil has surpassed the teacher, and it now Jessica’s pizza that is legendary. We were planning to collaborate on the pizza making, but as soon as we arrived home, Heather discovered she had left her purse at the City Park. She had been walking the dogs while the rest of us loaded up the car, and I guess each thought the other had picked it up. Not good. She and UltraMom immediately headed back to the scene, while Johnny called the Police Dept to see if a good Samaritan had found the purse and turned it in. As we drove, we brainstormed and silently prayed. When I pulled into the lot near the site of our picnic, we were amazed to behold the purse, 5-6 hours later, still sitting on the picnic table, next to Heather’s drink, also left. She checked the contents, and announced $30 missing, but everything else intact. Amazing. Thank you, God.
When we arrived back home, Jessica's Masterpiece Pizza was nearly ready and UltraMom just had time to make one of her amazing green salad creations. Pat joined us for the meal, and between the 7 of us, two large pans of pizza entirely disappeared.
Sunday morning found Jessica and UltraMom mixing up another of Jim’s favorites: Biscuits and sausage gravy. Jesssica really has that son of mine spoiled! Then a little viewing of Jim’s baby pictures, a little transporting of UDad’s birthday presents to his shop at Pat’s, a little lunch and a little packing up and the UltraKids were gone, leaving UltraMom and UltraDad to smugly reflect on their outstanding parenting skills that created such wonderful kids. The only thing that would have made the weekend more perfect still is having UltraBob and UltraGirl there too.
Oh, and also, we are exhausted. In fact, I think its time for UltraMom to get a little nap.
UltraMom

PS Just had the perfect ending and the only thing lacking from a spectacular birthday weekend: a call from our favorite son in Japan. No, I'm talking about UltraBob, Silly. Anyway, was heaven to hear his voice.

I am encouraged by Ubob’s supportive comment, and measured dose of electrical shock to write another post. I think it’s going to be another “What I did over Summer Vacation (or my day off)” kind of writing assignment. I have to work my way back into long, descriptive and amusing narratives of major events.
The day began with a trip to Elko and an appointment for UltraMom with a Career Adviser at Great Basin College. Yes, UltraMom is toying with the idea of picking up her college education where she left it some 30 years ago. This was the third appt with counselor, Phil; in the first session, he convinced me to take the Myer-Briggs personality test.
This he maintained, would help show me what occupations would give me job satisfaction as well as a lot of money. The second session found Phil brimming with enthusiasm. Out of 16 different personality types, I had tested out as an INFP, the same personality type as his. He gave me handouts and we discussed the pros and cons of our shared traits, but we never really got around to discussing careers. In this, our third session, after both relating a few more personal experiences, I was encouraged to check out a couple of career search books, including one titled “Do What You Are,” which outlines likely lines of work for different personality types. Funny thing: “Storekeeper” is on the “jobs you probably won’t like” list for my type! I’ll keep you posted on my progress, but am seriously thinking about taking a few morning classes next fall while continuing my afternoon job at the prison.

Here is a shortened version I found on the net: Let me know what YOU are!
Take the Test!

All this time, UltraDad had been patiently reading in the car. Now it was time for some fun! After a bit of shopping (always a favorite activity of UltraDad’s J), we met Sisinlaw Pat for lunch. She was having an ultra busy day transporting dogs (and cat) to the vet. She was also getting ready to sell her last puppy and loan out her stud poodle (Jim thinks the term “stud poodle” is an oxymoron, but my two poodle boys are proof it is not). We had other, more fun plans. We were going to the movies! Shrek the Third was quite entertaining, thought perhaps not quite as good as Shreks 1 and 2. UltraMom only had one tiny catnap, which for her is an amazing movie-watching feat. Eddy Murphy as the donkey is a favorite of mine, but eclipsing him in this movie were his 4 adorable dragon-donkey offspring; tiny flying donkeys with the ability to breath fire. Then, the obligatory stop for groceries, and we were home by 5:30, much to the poodle boys relief.
Frozen pizza for dinner, and UltraMom left Udad reading in his chair while she made a run to the prison to retrieve her keys and check out the new merchandise-receiving window that had been installed that day. A piece of removable plywood had covered the opening through which we pass out our “store” to inmates lined up in front of it awaiting their turn. Now, there is an actual glass window, installed vertically. The bottom half is able to be raised, ie, opened to create the necessary access. The draftiness should be reduced and the security increased. The heavy plywood plank that covered the window on the outside when the store was closed, and that my guys had to raise, with great physical exertion, and then hold open with two heavy wooden braces (and which I have been expecting to fall on and kill a customer one dark day), has been replaced with a shutter type affair that opens from the side. Tomorrow we will see how well it actually works.
Came home to find Udad asleep in his bed. Time for me to do the same.
Night all,

UltraMom

Hey, everyone, UltraMom here. Long time, no post, but not for lack of material. In fact when I think about all the exciting and wondrous experiences I should be writing about, I am overwhelemed.
Today was a nice day, though I didn't get much accomplished. UltraDad and I both had the holiday (Memorial Day) off. We both got paid for not working, which was a first for him. His company recently decided it was costing them too much money to keep a full crew on and pay double time and a half for holiday pay, so were working with a skeleton crew to save some money. I know, I agree; it seems like skeletons wouldn't make very good workers, but I think they also don't eat much and never need to sleep, so there you go.
I grubbed about in my erstwhile garden spot trying to beat the weeds into submission prior to planting seeds and seedlings. Already growing, as volunteers from last year's labors, are carrots, garlic, chives and little onions, as well as thyme, mint, sage, and the occasional lettuce and spinach plant. I have 5 tomato plants nestled happily in their wall-waters, and there they will stay until I am darn well sure the freaky night freezes are a thing of the past. I have always wanted to use these cool plant protection devices, but this was the first year I actually found them when I was ready to purchase. I have every reason to believe they will give my tomato plants a tremendous growing boost, and I love looking at the odd green teepees that say to the world:” This is a serious, knowledgeable gardener,” though, of course it is a lie.
Most of my strawberry plants are on the other side of the big tree, but I left one in the tomato patch last year, as it seemed to be growing into the wooden railroad tie that was keeping my tier in place. It has proven to be a prolific little plant, and I have decided it's 10 or so offspring will coexist with the tomatoes. Hopefully, everyone will get along.
The garden is rewarding, but daunting, especially as I consider how much is still left to weed, prepare and plant, but either I will get it done, or I won't. And the world will, in all probability, still go on.
UltraDad and I tried out the new eatin'joint in town; a little previously closed-down café now open under new management. Udad had the special: hand-stuffed pork chop with baked potato, vegetable, salad and roll. I had the chef salad, which was missing the hard-boiled egg and swiss cheese described in the menu. We weren't much impressed, and will probably go back to Chin's, the long-established Chinese restaurant the next time we get the urge to eat out close to home.
Just to give you a quick run-down, I have had company, attended a couple of graduations and had a vacation trip to California. If you are good boys and girls and if the muse hits (or Ubob finds a way to deliver a threatened electrical charge when I am not blogging) you will hear all about it soon. But not today. I think I hear Bookworm calling my name.

UltraMom

Well, UltraMom fans, good news. We are going to get back to our Japan posts, and, hopefully, finish the darn things. Actually, just finished reviewing pictures preparatory to writing this and brought back many good memories and warm fuzzy feelings. Also fuzzy are many of the details, which I guess will happen when you write 4 months after the fact…4 months…,is that possible? Seems like only yesterday that Heather and I were…..

This was the day we had long been anticipating with curiosity and apprehension. Today we were going to see Motoji’s garden. Many of Bob’s Motoji-to-us translations concerning the garden had indicated we would be expected to weed a field and dig potatoes. Knowing Motoji’s sense of humor, and UltraBob’s quirky and whimsical translations, we weren’t really sure what to expect.
We all (UltraBob and Girl, Heather and Myself) arrived in Yokuska at the Suzuki house around lunch time, and were treated to Motoji’s famous noodles. He had made these noodles for us when visiting in Idaho several years ago, and they were just as tasty as I had remembered them to be. Not so much to our liking was the rubbery squid. I ate mine, but Heather had to make a big fuss about hers. She claims I was given a little, tiny piece, while hers was gigantic, but we all know that, being UltraBob’s sister, how prone to embellishment she is.
Yuri was looking very smart in a red sweater decorated with trailing leaves. It seemed she and Tomoko were headed out for a meeting of some sort. I know I asked, but now cannot remember what it was for; something municipal, I think. UltraBob headed upstairs to figure out what was wrong with his ‘server’, and that left Motoji free to commandeer a little slave labor for his gardening tasks. We would not have a translator present this time, and we would have to communicate through Motoji’s broken English, our practically non-existent Japanese and the time-honored art of gesturing. Motoji handed us gloves and beckoned us to follow.

Yuri and Motoji

UltraMom and very nice cousin Yukiko (also a black belt karate master!)

It was a little bit of a walk, winding mostly uphill through some a very scenic neighborhood. After a bit, Motoji pointed out some tennis courts. Just next to them, as it turned out, was a large garden area, sectioned off in plots. One of them was Motoji’s.
The gardens were all masterpieces of space utilization and completely weed-free. So apparently, the ‘field-weeding’ had been Motoji’s little joke! But we were going to be required to do some digging, we soon saw, as Motoji opened his little garden shed and found some trowels. He handed me one and bowed slightly. “A present,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Uh, thank you,” I replied, wondering if he was indeed making me a gift of his garden implement. Then, following his lead, I carefully began digging out small tubers, resembling Jerusalem Artichokes. After a bit, Heather asked me if she could dig for a while, and I gladly handed her the spade, stood up, and stretched legs cramped from the unaccustomed squatting position. As Heather and Motoji continued to harvest potatoes, onions and greens, I wandered around with my camera, recording this wondrous garden for posterity. At one point, Motoji exchanged greetings with a friend gardening in an adjacent plot, and was given a large daikon (Japanese radish) from the other man’s garden. These have a milder flavor than the small reddish ones we grow here. I always assumed vegetables were more or less universal, but this clearly is not the case.
After the harvest, I was relieved when Motoji reclaimed ‘the present’ and neatly stowed all implements back in the garden shed. We hadn’t been able to make much small talk, but hadn’t done too badly in the communication department. We walked back to the house, harvest in tow.

Harvesting the crop

Daikon!

Beautiful Garden!

Now it was time to clean and prepare the vegetables, and I helpfully offered to wash the dishes stacked in the sink. Motoji showed me the proper technique. Earlier, Yuri had shown, and then given me, some dishcloths crocheted by her or perhaps by her sister. The claim was that these would clean your dishes well without the need for dishwashing soap. Motoji took one of these magic cloths in hand, scoured an oily bowl and handed it to me for inspection. It seemed clean and grease free. My turn. I picked up a small plate and scoured. It still felt greasy. Tried again, same thing. Finally, glancing surreptitiously at Motoji who seemed occupied with the potatoes, I squirted a little dish soap on. Ah, that was better. I washed a few more before Motoji strode over and took the dishcloth from me. “No soap,” he said. “Scrub hard,” and he demonstrated once more. I guess I wasn’t being as covert as I had imagined! I tried again with the same results. Finally I had to give up. “I can’t do it,” I announced, abdicating my spot at the sink. “Still feels greasy.”

UltraMom “helps” with the dishes

The potatoes when prepared were served in a bowl with soy sauce for dipping. The golf-ball sized potatoes had a thick peel that was easy to slide off. They were really tasty, especially when dipped in the sauce. Not that I ever had to actually peel one myself; Motoji kept me supplied with potatoes ready for dipping until I couldn’t eat anymore.

Delicious Potatoes

UltraBob, by this time, had his server up and running again, and offered to drive Heather and me into the city for a little more souvenir shopping. We ended up at a huge mall/department store and had a great time picking up a few more things. I needed to look at teapots, as a friend “back home” who collects them had asked me to bring her one back. While I was at it, I got a charming, simple little white teapot for Panther (wedding/Christmas gift) and one for myself. I really love mine and find that I use it almost every day.
The ‘boar’ was a common theme in the shops as 2007 is the Year of the Boar, and I purchased a couple of ‘boar-bells’ and boar-decorated cards and dishtowels as gifts. It is said to be lucky to have something in your home featuring ‘animal of the year’. I was particularly drawn to one poster of several happy boars, obviously in a Christmas frame of mind. “Make a reckless rush dashing,” proclaimed the poster in bold type.

Boars Dashing!

The shopping, and especially the driving/busy traffic negotiating took quite some time, and we arrived back at the house to find everyone ready to go out to dinner. Mitsuhiro was going to treat us to a meal at the Ramen house. Now you may remember that Johnny spent several months in Japan, and preparatory to my trip I had asked him for must-see or must-do’s. The two things he most highly recommended were Ramen and Karaoke. Today we would do both.
Now, when I say “Ramen” you are probably imagining those little cellophane noodles with flavoring packets with such catchy names as “Texas Beef Ramen”, “Cajun Chicken Ramen”, or “Spicy Shrimp Ramen.” You can pick them up in any US grocery store for @ 15 cents each. At a quarter apiece, they are one of the biggest sellers in my prison store. The Ramen we had this evening was a totally different animal; that is to say, noodle. I can’t even really describe it, except to say it was totally delicious. I ordered, um, sort of a “combo-ramen” that came with a lot of meats and vegetables and, of course, noodles. It was an enormous bowl, but I did as much justice to it as was humanly possible.

UltraGirl with a bowl full of Ramen

Lots of Yummy Ramen

Now it was time for the evening’s entertainment. UltraBob was taking us to his favorite Karaoke Bar, “Karaoke Look.” He had become well acquainted with the owner/operator of this Hawaiian-themed establishment, and UBob once gotten a ‘perfect score’ on a karaoke rendition of a song, though UltraGirl claims the machine was broken. It was just Heather and me and the UltraKids to start with. Motoji, Yuri and Yukiko (UltraGirl’s cousin) were ready to call it a night. UltraGirl’s brother Mitsuhiro, would be joining us a bit later.
As I mentioned in my karaoke/Tokyo post, these type of establishments are very popular in Japan, with good reason. Johnny was right; this evening was definitely a highlight of our trip. We were shown into a fairly large, private room that could have easily accommodated 3-4 more people. We ordered in drinks, and Ubob showed us how to peruse the catalogs and make our karaoke selection on the small electronic machines. UltraBob started us off. I don’t remember what the song was called, but I was blown away. That kid of mine has some pipes! (I still want that CD of you singing, UB; maybe for my birthday?) The catalog had a large, varied selection of English songs, so Heather and I were mostly able to find ones we liked and thought we, perhaps, might be able to sing. Sometimes we were wrong. We totally butchered “Big Yellow Taxi” (you know the one, “Pave paradise, put up a parking lot”?) It always seems so easy to sing along with that one on the radio! UltraGirl did her standard, one of my very favorites, “Top of the World”, originally by the Carpenters. She has a beautiful voice, and I especially love hearing her sing that one. When Mitsuhiro showed up, the party really got going. He immediately grabbed the tambourine and kept rhythm to something Ubob was singing. There was also a maraca, which I used sometimes. Mitsu also has a very nice voice. His selections were mainly popular Japanese songs; I was particularly interested in one that had seemingly random English words thrown in here and there, like “Baby.” We were well into our evening when suddenly the lights went out, the door opened, and the owner came in carrying a mug filled with poky sticks and lit sparklers. “Welcome to Japan,” he said setting the mug on the table. It was SO cool! We got him to take a photo of us grouped around this centerpiece.
I happily made my song selections, as Ubob had shown me, picking a few Carpenters tunes, Bette Middler’s, “The Rose” and a few other things. It seemed like my turn came around fairly quickly. Afterwards, UltraBob complained that many of his selections never showed up. He accused me of canceling his, since I had so many, and that just may have been true, since I wasn’t all that familiar with the ‘song-selection machine”. But not on purpose, of courseJ I am trying to remember what song UltraBob and I were singing when we got totally out of control. As we were going off, Heather suddenly grabbed my mike and finished the song, saving us, as it turns out, from ourselves. Thanks, Heather.
Mitsu had been planning to stay for only a short time, but ended up leaving when we did. I think we karaoked for 2 hours, and I could have done 2 hours more. We ended the evening with an UltraBob-UltraMom duet of “One Tin Soldier”, a song I used to sing to the kids when they were small. Back at the reception desk, we asked the owner if we could take his picture. He disappeared into the back room, and reappeared wearing a Santa hat and sporting a couple of hand puppets. He had designed some Christmas postcards featuring original art and the logo of his establishment, Karaoke Look, and let us select several to take with us. These personal touches really made our evening more special.

Four silly kids

UltraMom and Heather sing a sweet ballad (or maybe butcher Big Yellow Taxi)

UltraBob likes to sing loud!

Christmas Puppets!

We arrived back at the Suzuki house, riding, as we had been doing all week, in Mitsu’s car. As the car came to a stop, Mitsu said to us, in very clear English, “Get out of my car.” Heather and I looked at each other, startled, then laughed. The words were clear, and we hastened to obey! Of course, soon we were right back in his car (loaned to the UltraKids for the week we were visiting because it was much roomier than their own car) headed back to Zushi.
I will post pictures later, but wanted to get this out today.
Next time, HAKONE/SWIMMING/BLACK EGGS. You don’t want to miss this one, so stay tuned!

UltraMom

I had a rather interesting morning yesterday, at least interesting to me. Lately I have been taking ” the boys” for some monster walks. Murphy and Rowdy have become so used to our morning walks that if it starts getting a little late and they are afraid I may have forgotten, they come and get me, stare fixedly at their leashes and then try to pull them down. On this particular day, we were walking by Carlin Pond, a very small body of water on the edge of town. The area around the pond is also called “The Chinese Gardens” because of the Chinese immigrants who used to live there and grew extensive vegetable gardens. Now it is also a nature walk/study area. Anyway, as we approached the pond, I could see a boy fishing, and it looked he had just caught a nice trout about a foot long. The little pond is occasionally stocked with trout from that elusive fish hatchery UltraDad and I couldn't find (see Mud, Maps and Mystery). The boy looked up and I cleverly commented “Looks like you caught a fish.”
“Yeah,” he said, “But I can't get the hook out of his mouth.” On closer inspection, it was evident that Mr. Fish had swallowed the hook. As far down as I could reach I couldn't feel any part of the hook; just a mess of worms. “I guess you'll just have to pull it out,” I offered. “But I want to throw him back. Guess I'll just have to cut the line and let him go.” That generated a conversation on whether or not the fish would survive with a hook in his gullet. Finally Jeremiah (I later asked his name) asked “Do you want him?” “Uh, sure!” I said with sudden decison. “If you have a sack I can carry him home in.” Jeremiah emptied his plastic Walmart sack and gave me the fish. I was a tiny bit nervous as I had not yet purchased my fishing license, so the boys and I hightailed it home, cleaned the fish and put him in the fridge.
UltraDad's reaction, when he got home from work that evening, was not what I expected. “Why did you take the fish?” “Well,” I answered uncertainly, “I thought it would die with that hook , and I thought we could eat it.” “I'M not going to eat it,” he declared. “And he would have been fine with the hook.” Well how was I supposed to know that? Seems to me that swimming around with a fishhook in your belly would make living a bit uncertain. And now I have to eat it just to prove a point…I'm not really sure what point, but that doesn't matter. Anyway, kind of fun and different.
Easter (today) was quite different at my house without any actual kids around. I didn't even get any Easter cards or packages sent out this year, which is something I usually try to do, at least to my children. I thought perhaps they really didn't even care, but when I mentioned this to Jimbo today, he said, “I know” or “I noticed” or something that made me think he did care and wished I had. Instead I bought a couple of Easter toys for my new boys, Murphy and Rowdy. I got them a package of sparkly, glittery, jingly, cat toys and they have had great fun dismantling them. I even caught Polly, the actual cat, playing with one of the little catnip mice. But no chocolate candy and no colored hard boiled eggs. Sigh. I did go to church this morning and sang in the choir, and we sang all the old lovely standard Easter songs: Christ the Lord is Risen Today, He Lives, In the Garden and Lord I Lift Your Name on High. And I brought home a spare Easter Lily which is livening and 'spring-timing' up my house This afternoon the boys and I walked over to Pat's house, and then invited her to give us a ride home and stay for lunch.
You may remember in the post about Jim's visit when I mentioned our visit to the Mike P. Jordan Memorial Tree Grove. I said I would tell you more about it at a later date. This seems a good time for that, since this is turning into a relatively short post. I have an inmate working in my store now who used to work in this tree grove. Yes, he was still a prisoner at the time, but at this minimum security 'conservation camp', as it is called, prison work crews go out every day and perform a variety of tasks, including city clean up and firefighting, and just about anything else you might think of.
'Brain” is a 50ish year old black man who has been in prison for much of his life. He once told me he was given the nickname “Brain” from a young inmate who told Brain that his bald head reminded him of Brain from the cartoon “Pinky and the Brain,” and it stuck. One of the officers told me it was because he was smart and always thinking, which is also true. I hired him to work in the prison store after firing Travis, whom I was pretty sure was stealing from me. Brain and Ricky, the other guy who has been with me for nearly a year now, are great in the store, and the frequent shortages have become a thing of the past. Brain likes to write and sometimes brings in stuff for me to read. This particular piece was written a couple of years ago when he was, for a time, the caretaker of the tree grove. I found it interesting and hope you do also.

Die or Fly

In this Great Basin, there is a not so well known botanical masterpiece. Nestled between the Youth Training Center Campus and the Nevada Division of Forestry, and a field of tumble weeks and grazing cattle is the Mike P. Jordan Memorial Tree Grove.
But before I go any further, you should know a little background. on March 3rd 1977, Mike Jordan, an employee of the Nevada Division of Forestry, developed a plan for what was to be a plant materials testing facility. And with an agreement between the Nevada Youth Training Center and the Nevada Division of Forestry, combined with the assistance of Botanists from the University of Nevada, trees and shrubs were planted between 1980-1983.
Today, in the midst of this desert, lies a gated (to keep out livestock and rodents) a 2 and 1/3rd acre oasis. Within this oasis flourishing are Ponderosa Pine, Norway Spruce, White Fur, Lombardy Poplar, Japanese Rose, Mountain Mahogany, and a total of 45 different species of trees and shrubs. It's a summertime must see for anyone who has the opportunity.
The tree grove became an unsuspecting habitat for bats, turkey vultures, hawks, doves and owls and her lies the real story.
I'm 'Brain', a guy who has lived 50 plus years without making one positive contribution to my family, my community or this nation. For over a decade I have been serving time in the Nevada Department of Corrections for one of my many negative contributions. Now I am allowed to work for N.D.F on an inmate work crew. My responsibilities include the instillation and maintenance of the tree grove's irrigation system, and the pruning and thinning of trees and shrubs. I'm also preparing a walkway and more interpretive species signs for public viewing. What it boils down to is: I'm the caretaker.
I'm not sure of when or how Mike Jordan died, but I do know that I'm honored to nourish his dream and legacy.
Though this opportunity has been rewarding, my life has been such a waste that reflecting upon it is very painful. So much so that I've felt at times that dying would be less painful than thinking about or remembering the wasteland I have called a life.
Once during the early fall, while planting new seedlings, I wanted to just lie down in the autumn leaves and not wake up. Yes, I wanted to die. I sat down on a dirt mound thinking, “Damn, I'm tired of being locked up. But I have 3 more years to go. When I do get out, what the hell am I going to do? If I die right here in this tree grove, how would my mother take it?” And then, out of nowhere, this owl flies up, lands 10 feet away and just looks at me. The owl was so close I felt I could read his expression. He knew how I felt, and he felt sorry for me. I laughed so hard my side hurt, but the owl didn't fly away. The crew boss called for me and I had to return to the prison.
The next day, while spreading pea gravel in a walkway, the owl returned. This time, he landed on a fence post. I started to talk to him and tell him about my life. No, he didn't talk back, but I swear he was listening. Rarely does a day go by that the owl doesn't visit me. Sometimes he just circles, but he lets his presence be known.
Now that I am at a place in my life where I desperately want to live, I've realized that the owl was actually the spirit of Mike P. Jordan watching over his tree grove. And in turn, he was also watching over me. And just like that fateful owl, I too “want to be like Mike!”

Free!

To live and make a positive contribution.

Current events again today, guys. Though soon I promise to go back and finish up my last couple of days of Japan blogging. But today I'm going to live a bit on the edge…on the edge of friendship that is. We'll see how it goes.
I got a phone call from sis-in-law Pat this morning. Now she and I usually manage to go to Elko and Walmart at least once a weekend, esp when UltraDad is working, and I always have a good time with her. But today was extra special. Her sister, Kathy (also UltraDad's sister, and my sister-in-law) was going to be in Elko. We could go hang out with her while she did her shopping.
Kathy is a lot of fun and I have known her a long time. In fact, I knew her before I knew UltraDad. We met in college and ended up being dorm-mates for a year or so before I bailed, got married, and became a farmwife. But that is a story for another day. Suffice it to say that I went, despite the fact that I am catching the cold UltraDad is now getting over. Pat and I met up with her in Walmart. We parked next to her pickup, containing, as usual, several dogs. Kathy lives on a cattle ranch and raises MinPins or Miniature Pinschers, and also has Border Collies and other cattle working dogs.
We found Kathy, as expected, in the pet section, loading up her cart with dog treats. I showed her and Pat the dog puppet I had recently got for my “boys,” and they each got one. Just to make sure they knew how they worked, I opened and closed the jaws for awhile while the puppet barked out “How Much is That Doggie in the Window”, “B I N G O” and “It's a Small World After All.” Funny. After a few rounds of that, their expressions resembled that of UltraDad the day we bought our puppet and I performed my demonstration for him a few times. I think they were impressed.
After our various shoppings, it was time for lunch, so we went to Dos Amigos, one of my favorite Mexican Restaurants. As we were finishing our meal and calculating the tab, Pat mentioned that she needed to put gas in her car. Now I don't know about your part of the country, but around here, gas prices are on the rise again; the highest I've ever seen them. Pat remembered that she had a coupon in her purse from her last shopping trip to Smith's Food; it would entitle her to 10 cents off a gallon at Smith's adjoining gas station. Kathy and I were amazed and impressed as Pat pulled out receipt after receipt. Finally, we were laughing and teasing her unmercifully. To tell the truth, it reminded me somewhat of my receipt retaining methods, but she had me topped. When all the receipts were sitting on the table, it reminded me of some sort of magic trick. How had they ever all fit inside her purse? But she did finally find the one she sought, and I offered to accompany her on her gas-filling journey.
We pulled into the service station, and she opened her purse to whip out that money-saving receipt, and guess what? It was missing again! As she searched , I laughed, thinking all the while that it could just as easily be me. In fact, not so long ago, it WAS me, looking for a receipt from JC Penneys so I could return some shirts. I could find every other receipt in the world but the one I needed, and the worst part was that one of the shirts still had that anti-theft thing attached to it, so I kind of looked like I had stolen it. But, luckily I have that honest UltraMom face, so was able to get a store credit for my purchases. As soon as I got home from that shopping trip and was putting away my purchases, I found that receipt sitting in the middle of my dining room table. But enough about me; this is about PAT. After 5 minutes or so, she did find the receipt again, and after filling up the car, went to the pay window to redeem her discount. I was helpfully washing her windows (hoping to make up for laughing at her) when she returned. “So, how much money did you save?” I asked.
“I didn't,” she muttered. “It seems that I did not have my Smith's fresh value card last time I shopped there. They used the store number to give me my store discount, but when they do that, the gas coupon doesn't work.” This was too much. “This sounds like a story for my blog,” I offered generously. But instead of gratitude for offering her fame and readership, I got threats of ending our friendship. Of course I didn't believe her, and thought it would be fun to just test it out a little bit.
Yes, you are right. UltraMom is one of those people who make themselves feel better by concentrating on the foibles of those around her.
So, thanks Pat. And we are still friends, right? I said right? Pat?

UltraMom, friend of the people

Today my little girl is 29 years old. She probably doesn’t really want me posting her age, but that’s what she gets for bullying me into writing her a birthday post. When I was her age, I was the mom of 4 kids. Now I’m not saying that was good or better than what she is doing; only different. In fact, many times I have wished I hadn’t married so young (19), but it seemed like the right thing to do at the timeJ
And so, it was 29 years ago today. I have written about it before; maybe even a couple of times. It was very early Easter Morning, March 26, 1978. My entire family was invited over to my house for Easter Dinner, and it was going to be a great meal. The day before, in a burst of energy, I had prepared most of the meal ahead of time. Even the roast beef was ready to go, sitting in a roasting pan surrounded by potatoes, onion, and carrots.
UltraDad was having a hard time sleeping. He had a terrible toothache. He finally dozed into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened by his unreasonable (it must have seemed at the time) wife. “We have to go to the hospital,” she said in a not-very-funny dream. “I think I’m having this baby.” But it wasn’t a dream, and a couple of hours later, UltraMom’s parents, who lived in the same town as the hospital, got a knock on the door. “But I thought we were going to YOUR house,” was Grandpa’s reaction on seeing his pregnant daughter along with his son-in-law and adored grandson. “And by the way, you really look like a pumpkin in that orange coat,” he told his daughter encouragingly, as he took sleepy little Bobby in his arms.
And so, late Easter morning, little Heather Loren McDonald came into the world, a beautiful little red-haired girl, weighing 6 lbs, 2 oz. My only daughter, and ally. After all, eventually there would be 4 men in the house, and we would be vastly outnumbered.
I know I told you I was going to combine this with a Japan post, Honey; something like “It’s Heather’s birthday, and speaking of Heather reminds me of the day we went to Motoji’s garden,” but I’m not really going to do that. No, Heather, this post is all about you.
I am so glad you got to go to Japan with me. I got to know you and see you on a whole new level, as a beautiful, clever, funny and competent young adult, who just happens to be my daughter. I love you and I am so proud to be your mom.
Do you remember this song I used to sing to you?
“Who’s the little girl that I love so, its’ Heather-O, Heather-O, Heather-O-Dough.”
Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. And many,many more.

YOUR UltraMom

Heather in Japan

I know this is hard to believe, but I’m actually going to write, mostly, about stuff that happened quite recently; yesterday in fact.
UltraDad, Murphy, Rowdy and I did, indeed, have an adventure. But first we stopped by Pat’s house to see her new ‘pets.’ Now, Beaker’s Parents, don’t be jealous, but Pat now has 6 turtles in a 50 gallon aquarium! I don’t remember what kind they are, but they are not totally aquatic, like our pig-nosed friend. There are rocks only partially submerged so they can climb out of the water if they’ve a mind to, which they often do. Two of them are about CD Disk- sized, while the four little ones are…think half dollar. Anyway, they’re pretty cool, but, as I told Pat, I’m too lazy to wish I had some of my own. All I can think of is the work involved. Sadly, several days later, the biggest one “passed on”.
Okay, I’m going to back up a bit, to Jim’s visit, actually, and we are going back to prison for a bit. One thing I really wanted to do when Jim was home was show him the place where I work. I just wanted him to get an idea of how it is and meet some of the people I work with. We have a new LT in camp, actually he is the LT who was at Calvin Camp when I first started working there, and is now back. So far, he has been very nice and supportive of the store, which I greatly appreciate. So, my first step in gaining Jimbo’s admittance to the ‘big house’ was to email the LT to request permission. His reply? “I have to ask the Warden in Cedar. “ I’ll spare you all the details, except to say that I was persistent, and called back several times, finally getting the okay. So, Friday morning Sgt Donald told me to go ahead and bring the kid over. “Just make sure he’s not wearing blue jeans,” the Sgt warned me, “We want to be able to tell him apart from our ‘customers.’ Good idea.
The upshot was that Jim (and incidentally me) got a very nice personalized tour of the facilities by Sgt Donald, and the “customers” got to see my very tall, handsome son. I guess the comments kind of went something like this: “THAT is Ms. Kathy’s son? He’s so tall, and she’s such a little thing.” I got to see parts of the camp I don’t often see, and hear things I didn’t know, such as: 1) because of the prison shortage in the state as a whole, we will be increasing camp capacity by about 30 inmates, 2) The officers recently discovered an area where inmates had been climbing over the fence during visiting hours to remove contraband left for them by said visitors, either in their unlocked cars, or hidden somewhere on the premises. The wire (not barbed) was pretty sagged down in that area, which is kind of hidden from ready-view, 3) An effort is made not to send rival gang members to the same camp facility to avoid violence. It was especially nice for me to get to show Jim my store, and introduce him to my inmate clerks: Ricky and Brain. They are two of the best and most trustworthy clerks I have ever had, and definitely make my job more enjoyable.
Well, now that we are back in prison, I am having a talk with some of the guys about a little problem I have. When UltraDad and I have a day off together, we can’t think of anything to do that would be fun for both of us. We would both like to go exploring and see new sights that are not crowded with people, but he is convinced that this is impossible without a 4-wheel drive pickup, which we do not possess. Brain fetches ‘Bugsy’, a 21 or so yr old inmate who grew up in the area and knows it well. He tells an alluring tale of a Hot Springs, accessible by 2-wheel drive, and only a couple of hours away. And the best part? There is never anyone there! Bugsy draws a map, taking into account my direction-challenged-syndrome, or DCS. “You can’t miss it,” he assures me. “You won’t be able to see it until you are right there, but you should smell the sulphur ahead of time. There is one big pool with an old rusted BBQ pit next to it, and lots of smaller ones. Be careful of the smaller pools; some of them are REALLY hot!”
I am excited beyond measure at the thought of surprising Udad with such an awesome place to go. Maybe I will just throw him into the car, drive on out there.
Of course I can’t help myself, and end up telling him the whole story and showing him my map at the first opportunity. But he is game, though a tiny bit skeptical. After all, HE has never heard of these alleged Hot Springs, so could they really exist?
Saturday morning we load up Murphy and Rowdy, stop by the grocery store for some fried chicken and drinks, and head out. It is a beautiful day, and the drive, as promised, is scenic, if a bit windy. Quite suddenly after 50-60 miles, the nice paved road turns into roughened dirt, but nothing my car can’t handle. Just have to slow down a bit. We make all the turns, ending with a right turn to ‘follow the fence line.’ Now the road is considerably worse. Deep ruts line the road, sometimes filled with muddy water from a recent rain. My average speed is now @10 mph, and even that seems too fast. UltraDad is now complaining about my driving: “You will have to drive on one side or the other. If you drive in the ruts, you are going to high center us!” and “Don’t drive over that shadscale, or you will give us a flat tire.” My reaction? “I think it’s your turn to drive.”
We stopped at a wide place in the “road” and Udad has another idea. “Let’s just walk a little bit and see what we can see.”
Now, for some time, we had been watching a pickup and people on a distant hillside. It looked like the road was going to lead us right to them. It seemed a shame to have come all this way and not even know if the Hot Springs really were there or not, so we kept walking. Finally we came to a fork in the road, so we took the high road (you take the low road) where we could overlook the pickup and people and even the Hot Springs, if they did indeed exist. They did indeed, along with numerous smaller ones, some of them quite warm. The whole area was very boggy, and soon our shoes were encrusted with mud. It did no good to try and avoid the mud, though walking on vegetation helped a little. It would look like the ground a few yards over was dryer and packed, but when you went over there, it would prove to be an illusion. Finally we mudded our way over to the big hot pool where a family was swimming and picnicking. There was a Mom, a Dad, a big brother and two little sisters. We exchanged polite greetings. As it turns out, this was their first trip out here also. And they weren’t too sure about the swimming. The two little girls had been in the water, and were now covered in little red, itchy spots. “Duck mites, I think,” declared the Dad. “And they are bad news.”
If we had found the place isolated, I may have been tempted to experience the warm water myself, so perhaps I was saved by this not-entirely-welcome company. Not wanting to intrude upon their family time, we soon left and made our way back to the car. Somehow, it seemed to take twice as long to walk back as it had to get there. UltraDad, fortunately, had some candy in his pocket to guard against shakiness. Murphy and Rowdy had to be forcibly stopped from drinking from the muddy puddles. When we got back to the car, and I filled their dish, they drank, and drank, and drank.
I was feeling quite cheerful and vindicated at actually finding the place from my map, even if we didn’t get to stay and enjoy it for very long. UltraDad decided we should get a bit further down the road before stopping for lunch, so off we went. “Let’s go back another way,” he suggested. “Turn right here, towards the Fish Hatchery and we’ll go back through Secret Pass.” That sounded like fun.
“We could stop for lunch when you find a wide spot in the road. I think they probably have picnic tables at the fish hatchery.” UltraDad said. I translated that to mean he wished to eat at the picnic tables near the fish hatchery, silly me. Suddenly there was an exasperated noise from the seat beside me. “You passed a whole bunch of good places to stop,” he exclaimed. “I thought you wanted to eat at the fish hatchery,” said I.
“No,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I just said there might be tables there.”
Fine. Within 5 minutes, we were parked enjoying our lunch.
We never did see the Fish Hatchery. It seems like we must have missed it, but I don’t know how we could have. In any case, it was another scenic drive, and, on the whole, a very enjoyable day.
In fact, I’m about ready to set out again. Anyone got another map?

UltraMom

Written Sunday, March 18th
My gold standard of a good time is time spent with my kids, so, of course, having Jim home for a week rates as platinum. (that IS better than gold, isn’t it?) He arrived mid-afternoon just a week ago, and left the following Saturday. Today UDad and I are mostly spending our day missing him, but we’ll do better once we have a little Jim-withdrawal behind us.
UltraDad was able to spend a couple of days with the kid, and I think they spent most of their time putting together UDad’s new table saw, which was fun for both of them. Some more time was spent working on getting UDad’s elk antlers getting them in shape for mounting on the wall.
UltraMom had Weight Watchers, and led an awesome inspiring meeting on emotional eating for three (yes, count-em, 3!) people in Carlin Tuesday night, and an equally awesome, inspiring meeting on emotional eating for 40 some people in Elko on Wedneseday. But she was feeling a little shorted in the area of spending-time-with-Jimbo. And so, she worked some hours on Wed (not usual) and took Thursday off so she could have a Jim-day all to herself.
Thursday was, as far as I am concerned, a pretty much perfect day. After breakfast and sending Dad back to bed (he was working nights), Jim and I took a nice long walk with the “boys” (ie, poodles). It was nice to have someone to take Rowdy, while he lunged and grabbed his leash. Murphy, of course, was the perfect gentleman.
Then, it was off to Elko and a stop at the bank so Jim could take care of his finances. A kind of funny thing happened on our way to the bank…. As I got out of the car, I put on my jacket. Now, I had not worn this particular jacket since washing, and as I got it arranged, something white caught my eye. A Kleenex? (not at ALL unusual for UltraMom). No, as it turns out, it was underwear, caught on the jacket Velcro. I discreetly told Jim I would meet him inside, and headed back to the car to ditch the embarrassing extra garment. When we were seated, visiting with our personal banker, I noticed something else. This time it was a sock. I’m just glad I noticed the garments in the particular order that I did. I showed this one to Jim, and he claims that every time he looked my way after that, I waggled it at him, but I really don’t think that is true. We all know how prone him is to, how shall I say, embellishment?
All that banking made me hungry, and I think it had the same effect on Jim, so we headed over to The Star, a Basque restaurant in Elko where they have the best steak sandwiches on the planet. The salad and French fries are also outstanding. The hostess, whom I always notice on the infrequent occasions that I dine at The Star, was, as usual, charming and attractive. She was also very friendly, to the point that it seemed she knew me. It wasn’t until after the meal that I found out why; she belongs to the Elko Weight Watcher group and had been at my meeting the night before! Small world?
After stuffing ourselves, Jim was up for whatever I wanted to do, and what I wanted to do was to show him the Michael P. Jordan Memorial Tree Grove out by NYTC, the youth correctional facility. In the near future, I’ll post some further information on the tree grove, but we had a nice time there. Some of the evergreens are huge, and, of course, the deciduous are not yet leafed out. In fact, the tree grove has fallen into a bit of disrepair; not sure if plans are to maintain it or not.
Then we stopped by Ralley’s to get my prescription and pick up some brats and chorizos for dinner. Jim said it would be nice to have some chips and dip to go with them. I said we would have to pick up some chips, and then on further reflection, I added “and some dip.” Jim kind of rubbed my face in that one and kept asking me, “So, for chips and dip, we need to pick up chips and what else?” We also had a nice fruit salad that I artistically arranged in a hollowed out pineapple shell, just like my mother used to. To make it even better, Pat came over and enjoyed the repast with us; we ate early, about 5 P.M. so UltraDad could eat before heading off to a night of work by 6.
Now, heretofore, we had been so busy working on Jim’s taxes, we had had no time for my favorite activity: playing games! I let Jim know this was unacceptable, so he graciously beat me at several games of “Authors”, and then we watched “Phantom of the Opera” on DVD, which I mostly stayed awake for. This was kind of a nostalgia thing cause when I was at Jim’s college a coupla years ago for Mom’s Weekend, we saw that movie at the SUB. Twice. The music is superb, as is Emily Postum, I think it is, who plays Christine. And of course, we all love the Phantom.
The next day, I had to work and Udad had the day off. I wasn’t sure what the boys were planning to do, but I strongly suggested they order pizza or in some other way take care of their own dinner. So, I was a bit put out when I arrived home, late, to find them sitting about in a state of apparent stupor with no dinner in evidence. After a brief dinner discussion, I called up and ordered pizza. Then UltraDad suggested I come outside and see what they had been doing all day. I aimed my flashlight around the back yard, looking for something different. Finally, I was led to the side of the yard, and noticed the brand new chain link fence that stood in front of the broken down wooden one that had recently been unsuccessful at keeping Murphy and Rowdy in their own yard, and away from the St Bernard puppy and grouchy, perpetually barking Cocker Spaniel that were always chained in the yard next door. Whew! Now THAT is a sentence! I was overwhelmed by guilt and gratitude. (I had strongly been hinting that SOMEBODY fix that wooden fence). What a relief not to have to worry about “the boys” getting away.
The next day Jimbo had to leave, but we talked him into letting us buy him lunch in Elko on his way out of town. Too bad he couldn’t have stuck around a few more hours, because UltraDad, sisterinlaw Pat and I went to see “Wild Hogs’ at the local movie theater, and I don’t care what Johnny thinks, it was really funny!

Wow, this is the Saturday after I originally wrote that post, and I am only now getting back to it. I seem to be on some kind of writing hiatus, but I promise to kick myself out of it soon, for my sake as well as yours!
Today, UltraDad and I are off for a little adventure, trying to find the Hot Springs in the Marshes by a map drawn for me by one of my store “customers.” I’ll let you know how it goes.

UltraMom, back in the saddle again

Congratulations! Since I am too lazy to write a new post right now, you get another one of my poems that will leave UltraBob scratching his head and wondering what is going on in his mother's head! I wrote this one, actually, in late November.
I am thrilled to have Jim home for a couple of days while on his Spring Break. But we have spent the past two evenings trying to complete his Income Tax forms online, so that isn't much fun.
And now:
CHAINS

What is the connection between human beings—-
We connect in so many ways,
Sometimes like links in a chain.
But is that what I want to be?
A link like others, not too different.
At a glance, You cannot tell me from the rest….
In a way, yes.

Yet in my mind I long to break the chain and soar.
Beyond the sameness,
Beyond mediocrity,
Beyond the confines of comfort and complacency.

Yet I cannot bear to leave it all behind.
What, if in my rashness,
I find I've broken the chain too completely
And find myself alone.
Or, could I find another, like myself,
And start to build, not a chain,
But a new connection altogether.

Wherein we visit “Jason”, find the happiest cat in Japan, and see Heather almost fall down a flight of stairs after being frightened by a large rodent

We are now up to Saturday, Dec 9 in my ongoing Japan Trip Travelogue, and today we are taking the train into Kamakura for a little sightseeing. UltraGirl, very wisely, as it turned out, declined to join us on this little outing. I guess after so many sunny, beautiful days, we were due for a little cold, drizzly rain, which perfectly describes the weather we had that day. The three of us; Heather, UltraBob and I, had umbrellas, but I don’t remember those youngsters even opening theirs. I used mine a lot, but as I’m a bit shorter than they are, my companions were sometimes jabbed a bit about their faces by my umbrella ribs. The little train upon which we rode into Kamakura apparently has some history behind it, and locals petitioned to keep it after it was slated to be replaced.
Enoden Electric Railway

Our first destination was the Daibutsu, (or Giant Buddha), Kamakura’s most famous tourist attraction. We took our time getting there, stopping at interesting shops along the way. Our first stop was at the 100 yen store, comparable to US Dollar Stores, but with much more varied and interesting merchandise. Here UltraMom indulged in a variety of one-time use chemical handwarmers. They weren’t as good as the ones UltraGirl had supplied us with at DisneySea a few days previously, but better than nothing. UltraBob generously went without so that Heather and I could have one in each pocket; he even had the brilliant idea to stick one on our necks, which helped for a little while, after which it was just lumpy and uncomfortable. The touristy shops were fascinating to us, and we took a lot of pictures. One store sold nothing but different statues of cats, particular those with the waving paw. But it was in another store, where we saw a living cat contentedly lying next to a lighted brazier, soaking up the heat. “That,” declared Ubob emphatically, “is the happiest cat in Japan.” Indubitably

Lots and lots of cats

The Happiest Cat in Japan

The Daibutsu, or “Jason” as Ubob calls him, was indeed an impressive sight. The huge bronze image of the Great Buddha is 13.35 meters tall. It was cast in 1252, and originally was located inside a large temple hall. But a tsunami wave, at the end of the 15th century, washed the temple buildings away, and since then the Buddha stands in the open air.

Heather and UltraMom pose in front of the Daibutsu

Mounted on a nearby wall are the Buddha’s sandals, and as may be expected, are quite large. But I never saw the Buddha wear them; in fact I really couldn’t see his feet at all! See
Daibutsu for more and better information on this sacred Buddhist architectural marvel. For a nominal fee, you could go inside the statue, and we did. I guess you used to be about to climb some ladder/stairs up into it, but now we could only stand on the ground and gaze up at the rather ugly bolts and seams. I asked UltraBob a lot of questions about the Buddha; his size, history, etc. and he very sweetly bought me a little booklet to inform me. Of course right now the booklet is misplaced.
As we made our way back down the street, we saw a sign proclaiming “English Tea and Scones” in an upstairs shop. We decided that sounded like just the ticket, so we climbed the steep, rickety stairs. Just as Heather reached the top of the stairs, a squirrel ran past her (nearly into her), causing her to scream and almost lose her balance. Inside the rather quaint, charming little shop, we settled in a corner and placed our order. We were a bit disappointed in the hard little biscuit-type scones, but then I realized that these probably were English scones; what I had wanted was a big American scone, like those ones they sell at all the county fairs. You know what I mean. Gradually we became aware that, although we were the only paying customers, we were sharing the shop with some unusual patrons. In the doorway, on the floor, on the countertops were: squirrels! The proprietress was feeding them fruit and nuts, and, as Ubob translated for us, calling them her ‘children!’ Thoughts of “health inspectors’ went through our head as we each took about 20 pictures of the squirrels as they dashed in and out, on and off the counters and up and around the doorframe.

UltraBob and Mom nibble on scones and watch the squirrels

The Shop Owner feeds “her children”

Our next stop was Hasedera, or Hase Temple
Hasedera The grounds here were stunning, and UltraBob informed us that it was one of his favorite places to take photos. There were Koi ponds and beautiful tiered garden levels. This time of year, the leaves were a riot of red, orange, yellow and green. Also, from this height, you can look out at the rooftops of Kamakura and see the ocean in the not too far off distance.

Looking Down on Kamakura

Part of the temple grounds

Fall Colors and a Sea of Umbrellas

The first thing we saw when we entered the temple grounds were the Jizo statues. Distraught relatives purchase these for aborted or stillborn children, and they are somehow supposed to get these spirit children into a better afterlife. Some of the statues wore knitted caps, and there were toys available to purchase for them in a nearby temple shop.

Jizo Statues

The Kyozo or Scripture House is a big wooden revolving structure that holds all of the scriptures covering Mahayan Buddhism. If you grab one of the handles and turn the thing one full time around, you gain the same benefit as if you had actually read all those scriptures!

UltraBob getting smarter

After looking around and becoming thoroughly cold and wet, we went through the red tori gate and entered the caves. This was a bit surreal; statues are carved directly into the cave walls, and candle-offerings provide the ghostly light.

The Red Tori Gate


In the Caverns

As you may have realized, I just did a bit of research myself; there is NO WAY I actually learned and remembered all of this stuff, but it is interesting, no?
I believe it was after Hasedera that we ate Japanese Cheese Currie, and I’ve gotta tell you, this was one of my all-time favorite meals. Japanese Currie is different from the hot, hot Indian cuisine one usually thinks of when they hear the “C” word. All I can say is “Yum, Yum.”
UltraBob had planned on taking us to “ChinaTown” (yes, a China Town in Japan; not so unusual), but we ran out of time, plus we were wet and freezing. So, on to Yohohama to visit a giant electronics store (maybe the world’s largest!) so that UltraMom could buy a new computer mouse and headphones. I think it was on the 9th floor that we located the computer mouses (mice?) Six rows of mouse-perusal and 1/2 hour later, a selection was finally made. Nothing fancy, but a comfortable grip and cordless.
At last it was time to catch the train back home where, exhausted, we were soon all in bed.
Tomorrow (or some day soon): Motoji’s garden and Karoke!

UltraMom

Hi UltraMom Fans. Lately I have been trying my hand at a couple of different writing millieaus, and since I don't feel like tackling the Kamakura day right at this moment, I am going to “treat” you to my attempt at free form poety.Comments, either good or constructive appreciated.

Loneliness

When have I spent time alone with no distractions,
With no demands on my time,
Without the company of others?
Alone is not hard for me……for awhile….
for a few hours, for a few days…
Then I begin feeling disconnected,
As if my emotions and conclusions
Will turn out to be flawed when exposed.
Innately, I don't think we are meant to be alone too long.
Or, why would something in my soul
Cry out for another voice, for a touch?
For validation.
And yet, I know I've never truly known it.
I hope I never will.

Okay, Boys and Girls, its time to get back to my wonderful Japan vacation. By the time I finish blogging this one, it will probably be about time to go back again! (at least I hope so)
I think we are up to Friday, Dec 8th. Well, I think I can actually dispatch that day in just a few sentences, though you may doubt that is possible for the oh so wordy UltraMom. You may recall that UltraMom had been the lucky recipient of a Mini-Mac computer from her generous son and daughter-in-law? It was time to try to teach an old dog (UltraMom) some new tricks (how to use a Mac when she had only ever used a PC). And that was pretty much mine and UtraBob's day, as he patiently explained things to me and we decided what else I might need to acquire to make this thing work. I wrote stuff down in a little notebook that I promptly misplaced once I got back home, ordered a few peripherals, and played around on my new computer, which UltraBob assured me I would not be able to ruin. When I became frustrated, out came his favorite line: “Just remember what it says in 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy': Don't Panic!.” Good advice. I think we did take a short break to bike down to 7-i holdings, but that was it.
UltraGirl was still under the weather, and Heather had kind of a boring day, but we got together for some dinner and games that evening. I taught the kids my favorite dice game; it is UltraDad's current favorite; and Tomoko promptly took us to school, so to speak. Day over. See? I CAN write a post that is shorter than War and Peace, Johnny.
(Btw, this day was also Jimbo’s 23rd birthday.)

Tomorrow, probably not so short: Kamakura and the Giant Buddha!

UltraMom, (Typing this post on her Mac)

A Guest Post
Panther, back from her honeymoon sent me this little journal kept by our niece Linda, who house-sat for her while she and John were at the Oregon Coast. I present it here in its entirety with explanations.

THIS DAY WAS OSTENSIBLY WRITTEN ABOUT BY JASMINE, PANTHER'S OLD, RATHER OBESE, BUT VERY SWEET BLACK LAB. FATZ IS THE VERY OBESE SIAMESE CAT, AND ANYA IS THE SPOILED LITTLE DACHSHUND.
Monday February 19 2007

Linda and her parents arrived after nine in the morning while Sara, Jason and Julie were still here. They all had smoothies and eventually everyone but Linda left. Jason came back once to get his sunglasses but after that it was just the four of us. Linda did all her laundry and folded it up and left it on the couches for us to sit on. She also left her crocheting out a lot for us to sit on too. We all sat on the loveseat with Linda downstairs (well, mostly Anya and me, but sometimes Fatz would join us) while she watched the entire Back to the Future trilogy (on her laptop), and ate wedding leftovers. Linda played on the piano all the time. She found Phantom of the Opera book and has been trying to learn songs from it all week. (see above—I think the TV upstairs wasn’t quite working right for Linda or something). Linda put me and Anya (who for some reason Linda is always calling “fathead” and “cheese”) out in the garage around eleven, but we could hear her moving around and playing the piano until one or two in the morning! I can’t wait for you both to come back!….Love Jazzmine

P.S. Some roses came for you Monday and Linda took pictures!

WRITTEN, AGAIN OSTENSIBLY, BY THE CAT
Fatz Tuesday (February 20, 2007)

Linda took Anya and Jazzmine for a walk when she finally woke up and they came back with the mail and newspapers. Linda did a good job cleaning my litter box, mostly, and even found my food and a place to put it (but that was on Monday, with Sara and Julie helping). She eventually got all my stools back around the bar with my cushions on them. But she forgot to get me water! So I tried to remind her by meowing at the bathrooms and she eventually caught on. I think she felt really bad for forgetting on Monday because she has changed it faithfully every day since.

I’m so glad you’re coming home soon. Maybe you’ll let me stay outside all night. Linda won’t.

Yourz,

Fatz

THIS ONE APPARENTLY WRITTEN BY LINDA HERSELF
Ash Wednesday (February 21, 2007)
Remembering that Wednesday is garbage day, I set my phone alarm for 7:30 so I had time to get the trash out by 9. After going to bed late on Tuesday, I was surprised to wake up on Wednesday before the alarm went off. I reveled in my earliness for a few moments before picking up my cell phone to see what time it was. Much to my dismay, I read 9:03 on the cell phone. I had forgotten, after setting it dutifully to 7:30 am, to turn my phone’s alarm ON! Whoops. So though I perhaps could have made it, I gave the garbage up for lost and took the girlfriends for a walk instead. Most of the day went much like the others: I spent a lot of time lazily watching movies and trying to improve my piano-playing skills with the Phantom of the Opera, ate lots of food. Around six I put the girls up in the garage and drove off to the seven o’clock Ash Wednesday service at my church in Caldwell. I was trying to acquaint myself with the Avalon and get comfortable driving it as I accelerated along the Emmett highway (always with the speed limit, of course) with a faster car tailing. I was just starting to feel pretty good a short way out of Emmett when the steering wheel started pulling back and forth and then I smelled rubber as I maneuvered the car to the right side of the road. I crawled over to the passenger seat and got out to discover that, indeed, the front passenger tire had blown out and was now fairly shredded. I climbed back in and called my mom before getting on the phone to AAA. The Northern California branch was transferring my call to Idaho when I remembered to turn on my (your) emergency flashers and just as the AAA people who could help me picked up, a Gem county sheriff car pulled up behind me. The officer seemed to know how to help, so I hung up with AAA and he started working on changing the tire. He got one of the nuts off, but on two of the others he snapped off part of the bolt with the nut. By this time it was dark and cold and he went and called the AAA emergency roadside assistance guy in town. The guy and his wife came down in a work truck but couldn’t get the other nuts off safely, so they had to go back and get the tow truck while the officer and I waited (semi-awkwardly, but mostly fine). They towed the Avalon to Les Schwab and took me home. Shawn commented that he recognized your house, and we pieced together that he had jumped my parents’ car there a few years before (I remember the incident!). He offered to drive me back down to Les Schwab in the morning, and I watched a chick flick before going to bed. Needless to say, no Ash Wednesday service for me. I love you! Linda

THIS ONE APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY LINDA'S FRIEND RACHEL
Thursday (February 22, 2007)

Hello! I’m here, in your house…I’m sure you knew I’d be staying here with Linda, but, if you didn’t, now you do! I’ve been told Linda got the car fixed during the day, but I can really only testify to the night events I was around to witness and experience.

She very bravely drove out to pick me up from the airport at not quite 7 pm. I returned from Mexico very tired, and still kinda dirty, emotionally exhausted too, but it was such a welcome sight to come out of the big glass exit and find my group of companions gathered around a brightly smiling Linda. Oh, sweet loveable Linda!

While waiting for my luggage she regaled me as to her adventure of the previous day, so I am very thankful and impressed she still drove out to get me. That’s Linda, brave, confident, and committed to her friends!

I made a terrible navigator, getting lost in my struggle to depict my days in Mexico to her, but she, of course still managed to find Emmett and your house.

Once home, the dogs happily hopped around us, and even Fatz came out to sit on the couch with everyone. Linda drew me a deliciously hot bath; I called my parents, etc. She showed me the roses, which are very beautiful. I’m sorry they didn’t arrive in time. Sad!! But not too sad, of course. There’s too much happiness for that.
There isn’t much more to say except that I was really tired, got most but not all of the remaining paint out of my hair and off my arms, and soon went to bed. But I also want to take a moment to share in your joy. I’m so glad you found someone to keep you company to comfort and support you, challenge and defend you. I’m thankful God shared this blessing with you, so that you can share the rest of your life with a man you love, who loves you. I wish you both the best of luck and congratulations (It’s a wishing card after all!) Love, Rachel

AND HERE ANYA HAS HER SAY
Friday (February 23, 2007)

Linda and the new girl got up around 8 or 9. I think they were still tired because Linda let us in and into Sara’s bedroom with them, where they sat around petting me and talking about how adorable I am. They were really slow moving around, especially the new girl, but thankfully they knew what they were supposed to do and sat on the couch petting me for a while. Linda even gave me a tiny bite of good food, but she should have given me more. It was only a crumb and I very sweetly hopped about and wagged my tail to let her know I was hungry too! So they were a little rude, hogging the food to themselves, but I’m nice and forgive them.

We went for a walk this morning too. Jazzmine and I were so excited!! We jumped around a lot and I really told off these mean ugly dogs along the way. I’m so brave and smart and pretty! The people of course wanted to keep spending time with me, so we went even a bit further than Linda had been taking us. I let Linda carry me a little even though I wasn’t tired at all, because I’m sure she wanted to hold me.

At night they sat on your bed so they could hold me in their laps. But a very terrible thing happened!! I jumped off the bed to kiss Jazzmine and I hurt my foot! It’s very terrible. It hurts a lot and I have to put my let out in the air. They checked it and moved it around, but I wish you were here. They pampered me, Linda petting me to sleep, but I’m sure you would have known what was wrong and made it all better. Please come home soon! These girls sing all night when they should probably be showing me how much they love me. I’m sure you and John will know just how to take care of me and make me feel better.

Love, Your Darling Anya

Another wedding under my belt, and I'm sure you are dying to hear all about it. I am talking, of course, about the wedding of my favorite little sister, Panther, to a mysterious man whom she met only about half a year ago………….lets just call him “John.” (since that is, after all, his name) Panther and “John” were set up, by a mutual friend, on a blind date that ended up lasting 6 hours. “He was so nice,” she gushed on the phone a day later, “but I just don't think I'm that attracted to him.” By the time I spoke to her again, a couple of days later, the attraction had definitely kicked in.
I heard a lot about him in the months to follow, but we were not actually able to meet until late November when he and his charming daughter Kelly took Heather and me out to dinner at a Boise restaurant prior to our next-day flight to Japan. As you already know (if you are as avid a reader of my Japan posts as you ought to be), he passed all tests with flying colors.
At first, the wedding was going to be a casual little affair. “Keep your calendar clear for President's Day weekend, Cougar, old bean,” Panther mentioned offhandedly sometime in early December. “I am getting married that weekend.” But as time progressed, so did the size and scope of these upcoming nuptials. After all, they were both long-time residents of the Boise-Emmett area and had many friends and relatives. And John's sisters Donna and Karen had a lot of experience catering and planning weddings. John, as a matter of form, invited several people who lived quite a distance away, whom he was sure wouldn't attend. He was wrong.
Panther had arranged for me to stay with some very good mutual friends: Marc and Barb. They were her good friends first, but were now mine also through many shared outings, barbecues and volleyball games on Panther's lawn. Brother Dave and wife Jane would be staying with Balloon-Rabbit Nancy, another good friend. ( Panther has a number of “Nancys” in her life, so we distinguish them with modifiers. This Nancy happens to like rabbits in her decor, and has been involved with balloon launches in the past at the Boise River Festival). Brother, Dan & Mary from New Jersey, and sister Francie and Neil from Calif weren't able to come.
On Friday morning, as seems to be my way, I didn't pack for the trip until that morning, and then I overpacked, trying to plan for every contingency of weather, occasion and whim. But I don't want you to think that I never plan ahead. My car was gassed up & ready to go; I had three books on CD from the library: one classic, one mystery and one scary thriller; and my cooler was full of snacks for the drive.
I am somewhat directionally challenged, but Barb had sent me excellent directions, via e-mail, for finding her home. When I arrived, I was warmly welcomed and shown upstairs to the “Dragon Room”, a cozy little place with a comfy, fouton bed and a large green, flame-shooting dragon painted on one wall. The dragon, it seems, came with the house. Probably a great selling point.
There was a family dinner planned that evening at John's sister Donna's Boise home. It was clear across town, so I was happy to be able to hitch a ride with brother Dave, wife, Jane and daughter Linda, who is a Junior at Alberstons College in Caldwell, Idaho, only a short drive away. Dave and Jane live in Placerville, CA, but had already been in town a few days to spend extra time with Linda.
Arriving at Donna's, we met a plethora of relatives, including several toddlers. It was a noisy, casual and delicious dinner and everyone had a great time visiting, esp when the bride-to-be finally arrived, glowing from an afternoon of shopping. Several very special gifts were presented to the happy couple. John's brother David handed over a large basket, the handle wrapped with purple ribbon. In the basket were sprigs of lavender and lots of beautiful hard-cover books on lavender plants and Provence, France. Somehere he had heard that the bride had a “thing” for lavender! John's mother presented a very special and lovely quilt that had special meaning and significance for the whole family. I was beginning to get the warm, fuzzy feeling that Panther was marrying into a very nice family.
The next day, Saturday, Barb made a wonderful hash-brown cheesy casserole for breakfast, which I enjoyed immensely. Mark did his best to convince me that I wanted to go to the Hot-Rod Shop with him to get some more chrome for the pickup he and son, Ben were working on in the garage, but, to be perfectly honest, that type of thing has zero appeal for me. Barb had to go over to a friend's to work on the salad they were jointly making for the Sunday wedding festivities, so I got to have a nice visit with Ben before heading out for Emmett to spend the day helping Panther. Ben, a very cute and personable high school sophomore, has long been part of a karate group headed up by a strong Christian karate master. Sometimes, they put on shows at local high schools or churches, and Ben had been part of the show the night before. He was pumped up because, for the first time, he had bent a metal rod in half. He demonstrated the technique for me, sans metal bar. “You start by placing a towel on your neck or shoulders and start bending the bar around that. Then you place the bar against your chest (sternum) and bend it in.” Wow. I was impressed. Other feats of strength performed are tearing phone books in half, breaking bricks and rolling up Teflon frying pans. These acts are interspersed with Christian testimony. I imagine it is quite effective.
When I am nearly to Panther's house, she calls me on my cell phone. “Cougar, where are you?” she demands. It seems she has gone to breakfast with her children, who then went into Boise to run errands, and she is now walking back home. I pick her up on the way, a rosy-cheeked hitch-hiker, and soon we are continuing her project of tying large bows of lavender and white to fence posts lining her drive. This evening, she is having a big spaghetti feed at her house for relatives and for those helping with the wedding, but she has planned ahead and her famous spaghetti sauce is in the freezer and needs only a few hours warming up in the crockpot to make our mouths water. Cookies have been made ahead for dessert, and that leaves only garlic bread and salad, easily handled by Jane and Linda. But for now, there is work to do. Debi decides to clean off her pool cover, which is covered by an off-season accumulation of dirt and debris. I help her as she pressure-sprays water on to loosen the mess; then removes it with a suction pump and hose. As each section is cleaned the pool cover is rolled up a bit more. After a while, the project is mine while Panther works on other tasks. Meanwhile, John and his brothers are erecting a large, maybe 100-yard square, rented tent. The instructions consist of a diagram of colored poles, which seem less than useful to me. But the guys figure it out, and sweat is soon rolling off them as they pound metal stakes and raise the tent poles. Rented tables and chairs are set up and it looks perfect, like the unseasonably warm weather we are having.
The wedding rehearsal is set for 4:30 P.M. at the New Life Christian Church in Emmett, where Panther and her kids have been attending for years. I have been there several times, and it seems like a second church home to me. The pastor, Tim has told Panther that she needs to appoint someone to the all-important wedding job of Sergeant at Arms. She has appointed me. When I inquire into my duties, I am told that I am to be the “big, mean lady.” It will be my job to stand at the back of the church as the key participants line up and walk down the aisle. I am to keep them quiet and calm and make sure they go in at the right time. I can do this. We rehearse several times, and it suddenly occurs to me that when all of the stars have entered, to much fanfare, I will still be at the back of the church and need to somehow get to my seat in the front. I will try to scuttle in unobtrusively when everyone's attention is on the key players, now on the stage.
Tim has two lovely and very talented daughters who have beautifully decorated the church for this occasion, and who will be singing two songs during the wedding. K.J., the young violinist who will be playing a solo, is not at the rehearsal. He is attending a funeral for a friend and former roommate who has been killed in Iraq. Marc and Barb's oldest son, Zach, is also serving his country there. It brings the war much closer to me.
After the rehearsal, we all troop back to Panther's house and begin feasting. Jane's salad is excellent and unusual: salad greens, feta cheese, apple chunks, dried cranberries and almond slices. It doesn't even need salad dressing. John's son, Jake, has arrived from Seattle with his girlfriend, Leslie, who will be taking professional pictures of the wedding and reception. She has a large, impressive camera that actually uses film. I visit with John's mother and am amazed to learn that she is 88 years old. If I had to guess, I would have placed her in her late 60's. She tells me how she had 5 kids in the space of about 5 years. The youngest two are John's twin brothers. “I quit when they started coming in pairs,” she quipped.
Barb and I leave at the same time, and I am glad, driving in the dark, to be able to follow her home.
Sunday arrives, the day of the wedding, and the weather has definitely taken a turn for the worse. The day is cloudy and cold. Panther is philosophical and unperturbed. “Our first date was on a Sunday at 2:00, so that seemed a good time to get married. The weather will be what it is, and it will be fine.” Good attitude, Sis. I am asked to show up about 10 A.M. to help John's sisters Donna and Karen get the food ready. But first Panther has another task for me. She wants me to create a computer file with only photos of she and John. This takes a bit of time, as I look through her pictures and copy the relevant ones into the DebiandJohnWedding Folder. David, John's brother, has taken a lot of pictures since he arrived, and he adds those to the collection. The screensaver slideshow will show scenes from John and Debi's journey together throughout the reception. That is, it would have if the computer had been turned on, a fact that didn't register on me until the reception was over. Oh well.
Donna and Karen have gone to an amazing amount of work to plan and execute the menu as well as set up artfully decorated tables and dishes, complete with standup cards printed with the names of the various menu items. I begin my assigned task, with the electric knife, of cutting the crusts off a dozen loaves of bread. When Karen borrows the knife to cut the egg salad sandwiches in triangles, I saunter off to the bedroom to scope out the scene in there. Panther is getting her make-up professionally done by Danielle, a good friend of Panther's daughter Sara. Her hair has been done up in sparkly clips by Sara's Montana friend, Julie. Danielle is also doing the makeup of Sara and John's daughter Kelly. After I wistfully express a wish to have someone do MY makeup, Sara offers to do it. So, while her friend Julie works on her hair, Sara covers my face with foundation and powder, applies eye shadow and outlines my lips. The mascara, she tells me, I will need to apply myself. Thank you Sara. I look great!
As I drift back to the kitchen, there seem to be a lot of helpers in there now, and I quietly slip back to the bedroom to put on the same silvery-black suit I wore to the UltraKid's wedding. And now its time for me to be at the church! I have duties.
I am concerned that the small church will not seat all of the many friends and relatives who will attend, but it ends up being just about exactly big enough. Linda and Becca, Donna's daughter, handle the guest book. Helping usher are Kelly's boyfriend Nick and Sara's boyfriend Jason. I find there is really nothing for me to do until everyone is seated and its time to line up in the back of the church. Finally its time. “Knights in White Satin” starts playing through the sound system, and John's mother enters the church, escorted by her sons, Doug and Dave. Next its John's turn to come on in, flanked by his son, Jake and daughter. Kelly. The music stops, and K.J.'s violin solo begins. When Tim asks the spectators to rise, the bride enters through a side door and all eyes are on her as walks down the aisle, holding the arms of Sara and Michael. She looks absolutely beautiful in a strapless, short white dress, a veil on her head. I scuttle in a few moments later, and my work is done. Now I can enjoy myself.
The songs “You Say it Best When You Say Nothing At All”, and “Your Grace Still Amazes Me,” are beautifully performed while the erstwhile lovers gaze into each other's eyes. When asked if he will “take this woman to be my lawful wedded wife”, John fervently declares, “With all my heart and soul, I do!” Soon they are man and wife, and it's time for The Kiss.
Everyone is invited back to Panther's house for the reception, where the guests will each be personally greeted by the happy couple. I hitch a ride with Becca, and when we arrive we find that already the yard is jammed with cars, and the nearby field is being turned into a parking lot. The line into the house winds along the sidewalk, but once inside, each guest is exuberantly greeted by John and Debi. As I enter the house, I see the groaning buffet tables laden with such delicacies as crustless egg salad and chicken salad sandwiches, dried cherry-pasta salad, broccoli salad, mango salsa and chips, brie cheese topped with caramelized onions; and this in only what I remember off the top of my head. Panther has made frosted, heart-shaped sugar cookies adorned with candy conservation hearts, and there are also bowels of mixed nuts and home-made mints. A friend of hers from the hospital has made the two-tiered wedding cake, topped with two white ceramic doves. Outside, Rhonda and Wade have set up their professional sound system and current popular tunes are setting a festive mood. Some brave souls are out there, attempting to dance, or making use of the heater set in the middle of the tented area. I am delighted to see Sara McDonald, a much-loved niece and fellow member of the Cute Feet Club. To my knowledge, we are the only members to date. Her Mom, Roz is also there, and I corner them with my Japan pictures photo album.
At one point, my brother Dave challenges me to a game of ping-pong in the basement game room, an invitation I accept with alacrity. Dave is looking terrific, having lost quite a bit of weight. He has embraced healthier eating habits, purchased a pedometer and now walks at least 10,000 steps a day. Unfortunately, even this wasn't enough to enable him to beat me at a ping-pong match. I won the air hockey game also, and it wasn't until we played a pinball arcade game that he finally beat me. It was lots of fun.
The request had been “No Gifts Please,” but inevitably some people brought them anyway. There were several original paintings, a handmade quilt and other lovely and useful items. Brother Dave gave them a joke gift of a toaster, but as it turns out, that is actually something they don't have! It was rather late when I made my way back to my host family in Boise, and I'm quite proud of myself for finding their home without help, even in the dark. Barb is watching Desperate Housewives, and with her help, I am soon caught up in the fanciful, improbable plot.
I sleep quite well in my dragon lair, and wake up the next morning refreshed and ready to start the long drive back home. Panther and John are leaving today for a honeymoon on the Oregon Coast. But before I go, I treat Barb to breakfast at the Cracker Barrel where we have the most wonderful Peach Pancakes. It seems the least I can do after all the hospitality. We have a great time; what a good friend.
I am leaving early enough that I can stop and shop in Twin Falls for an hour or so with no feelings of guilt, unless you count the ones that come with spending too much. Okay, I got a bit carried away in Barnes and Noble, but I did have a $10 gift certificate from Weight Watchers, so that helped a little. I got home in time to grab the leashes and take two ecstatic poodles on a much-needed walk to sister in law Pat's house. She then invited me out to dinner so I could tell her all about the wedding, and UltraDad's to-go box was ready and waiting for him when he arrived home from work an hour or so later. All in all, a great wedding, a great weekend, and good roads. I would have, and will in near future, include some photos, but I left my camera at Panther's house. Ultra-dependable sister-in-law Jane is now in possession, so I should get it in the mail any day now. Next time, back to Japan.

Your Roving Travel Editor,
UltraMom

This is a poem I included in Panther and John's wedding card. I bought the card in Japan, and it was quite beautiful. A friend drew this arch and copied this lovely poem onto it for me, and I thought it turned out quite well!

Julie- working on the bride-to-be's hair

I do!

The Bridesmaids: Kelly & Sara

The Best Men: Jake and Michael

The Japan Saga Continues: Wherein UltraMom and Heather have another fun Tokyo day with Kristen & Co., and MJ learns a new word
After the DisneyLand, er sorry Heather, DisneySEA adventure, both of the UltraKids were definitely feeling under the weather and needed some recoup time. Hopefully they would be feeling better by the evening, when Game Night at Todd & Kristen’s in Tokyo was happening. In the meantime, a Girls’ Day Out was suggested, and pounced upon by our heros…. or is that heroines, Jessica?
UltraBob again took us to the Zushi Train Station and made sure we were on the correct train and that we knew where to get off; a different stop this time around. Again, we were armed with the orange UltraBob cell phone of courage. I’m trying to think what we did for lunch, and I’m pretty sure Heather finagled us a trip to the grocery store pastry section. Yes, that was it. We enjoyed our repast on the train, splitting each pastry in half so we could each experience each one. After consuming way too may carbohydrates, UltraMom was soon lulled to sleep by the motion of the train, so it was Heather who answered the important phone call from Kristen. “My work is taking longer than expected, so I will be a little late,” she informed us. “Just sit tight and wait for me.” Can do.
We arrived at the station and had a good time walking around the near vicinity of the platform while watching for red-haired American Kristen. Of particular interest was the kiosk where you could purchase reading material, snacks, drinks or any number of other interesting and incomprehensible (to us) merchandise. We were absorbed in our wanderings, and didn’t notice Kristen right away. She seemed a bit relieved to see us; I think she was afraid we had wandered off, which we had, but not too far.

UltraMom in the Train Station. We wandered just a bit….

“I thought we’d go up in the Government Building 40 stories up,” she told us. “You can see a lot from there and it’s quite interesting. MJ is at the computer store picking up her new Apple G-Book laptop, but she will meet us later for Karaoke.” Okay!
Just walking around Tokyo was fascinating. I was struck by how very few overweight people we saw in Japan, and especially in Tokyo. Everywhere, professionally dressed men and women were walking with evident purpose. Some of the crosswalks in Tokyo were unreal; when the signal came to “Walk”, hundreds of people in a group 50 feet wide would cross the street en mass.
The view out the windows from 40 stories up was incredible. On the roofs of slightly shorter skyscrapers we saw a helicopter landing pad, and a swimming pool that evidently belonged to a school. A lot of it was much as I had imagined it would be: tall gray buildings very close together and more tall gray buildings. After this, we went to a department store where Kristen wanted to purchase some desserts for the party she was having that evening. We had lots of fun looking around at the beautiful and, in some cases, mystifying food displays. We tried a few samples, most of which we liked.

Looking out on Tokyo. Notice the helicopter landing pad.

Now for the fun part: the Karaoke Bar. The plan was for MJ (an Australian) and her husband Yoshi, who is Japanese, to meet us there, but they were still at the Apple Store getting MJ’s new GBook, so got started without them. In Japan, these Karaoke Bars are very popular and I could soon see why. Each party gets a private room, where you can key in your karaoke selection from a catalog. You can also order drinks in, which, for many people, greatly adds to the experience. There are a couple of microphones, and the words to your song display on a television-type screen. Kristen has a lovely voice, and I don’t think UltraMom and Heather were too shabby either. The hour passed way too quickly, and Kristen declared that she needed to get back to her apartment to get started on dinner. At this point, MJ and Yoshi showed up, disappointed at missing Karaoke. The upshot was that UltraMom stayed and karaoked (I think that is a word) with MJ and Yoshi for another hour, and Kristen and Heather left to start on dinner. I definitely think I got the best end of THAT deal. MJ and Yoshi are both awesome singers, and I found a cool Carpenter’s Medley that kept me singing for a good 5-6 minutes, so that was fun.

Heather and Kristen- Karaoke!

Yoshi singing out

When MJ, Yoshi and I arrived at Todd and Kristen’s very comfortable and stylish Tokyo apartment, we found the party already started. Jonathan, a large, bearded American, who teaches English to Japanese businessmen was there, with his beautiful Japanese wife Sachico (sp?) Jonathan is also a gourmet cook and brought an out-of-this world bee