looking forward to...

We had a busy, busy weekend. A superbusy weekend. I'm still recuperating. As soon as I return the borrowed/rented/stolen scuba gear/costumes/photo equipment I'll tell you all about it. Well, maybe not the stolen part.

I'm not looking forward to all that returning.

I'm looking forward to seeing all the photos.

I'm not looking forward to writing two research papers this week.

I'm looking forward to being back in Kansas next weekend.

I'm not looking forward to locating all the missing costume parts.

I'm looking forward to the blackmail money from the photos.

I can tell you this much. I tried scuba diving. Not snuba, scuba.

I didn't drown, because I'm here to tell you the story.

I did it here:

I did it with a very patient instructor who'd never had to inflate a bouyancy device on someone just to keep them from belly-scraping the bottom the whole time.

He inflated. I sank to the bottom.

He inflated some more. I sank to the bottom.

He checked the bouyancy device for leaks. No leaks. He inflated some more.

I sank to the bottom. Which is not bad if you want to see the bottom up close. But I was getting a little tired of seeing the bottom that close.

He shook his head and called the other instructors over to look at the freakish, Incredible Sinking Girl. He inflated some more. I now looked like a mutant puffer fish with limbs.

I was finally able to motor about 6 inches off the bottom. I loved it.

When we were through, the instructor asked if I had ever considered a career as an anchor.

I'm not sure he was kidding...

Packin' up

Lunches. Lunches are the bain of my existence. Hubby's working-man lunch. Must be filling and contain no tofu.

Whee's daily school lunch.  Preferably contains tofu.  Must survive being stuffed in a already stuffy locker till noon, yet be cool and delicious when it's 106 outside. Oh no problem there.

(For some great lunch and food ideas check out Lisa Leake's blog at 100 days of real food. I really like the story about taking on the school's "approved" snack food list!!)

My lunch, which starts around 9:22 a.m. and ends at 2:46 p.m. (It wouldn't end then, except I have to start getting ready for dinner). May contain anything in the fridge or pantry.

Here's our lunch boxes. Can you tell who's is who's?

yep, mine is not the grungy one in the back. We all have criteria for our lunch containers.

Philoboy's lunch transport must:

• Be large enough he can find it when he leaves it lying in the back of the truck, in the garage, in the yard, at the shop, etc. etc., etc.
• Hold enough for breaks and lunch
• Be manly enough the other guys won't ridicule him
• Be grungy enough the other guys won't ridicule him
• Be tough enough the other guys won't ridicule him
• Be heavy enough to hurt the other guys when they ridicule him

Score 10 points for durability and re-usability. No style points are awarded in the men category.


The Whee's lunchbox must be:

• allow ample time for bonding with her friends. Thus, no foods requiring cooking, assembling, etc.
• disposable. After buying 37 lunchboxes last year, I ain't doin' that no more. Hence, the ulra-lightweight, disposable lunch sack. Customizable with cool artwork from Mom. At this point, if her cohorts make fun, it's the price you pay for being in junior high.

I just ooze sympathy, don't I?

Score: -5 for environmental irresponsibility.  +55 for saving Mom's sanity. Overall score: 50 points


My lunch box. The ultra-cool stainless steel model with spiffy magnet decor. Personalizable. Reusable. Durable. Works great except sometimes the latch comes open and my peanut butter nutella sandwich falls in the dirt. That hurts. And yes, it is perfectly OK to put peanut better and nutella on the same sandwich.  I save calories by not using any bread...

Score: minus 1 on style points for the rubber band I now put around it so I don't lose my nutella.  +10 for eco-greatness in every way. Overall score: 9.

Well, I'm off. If you try to call, I'm probably out to lunch...

A moonlit bum

This summer has turned me into a lazy bum. A lazy good-for-nothing bum, who runs (albeit slowly) when she sees motivation headed her way.

Take, for example, my plans for a moonlit kayak paddle this week, to enjoy the slightly cooler temperatures and the last few days of freedom before school begins.

I loaded the kayak. Don't tell Rudy the Red-nosed kayak that I took this old thing. He'll get his feeling hurt. But the Pelican is easier to load and haul. Refer back to explanation of laziness above.

And then I went inside to read for a while, till it got dark. I fell asleep reading, and when I woke up, it was way late. Too late to drive out to the lake. Refer to explanation of laziness above.

So I decided to finish the book. Which meant that it was even later, and consequently, I overslept the next morning, missing out on the opportunity for a beautiful sunrise paddle. Refer to....

So last night, I decided that, by golly, I was going out, no matter what. And then the sky started to look like this:

And the radar started to look like this:

As Sue Sylvester says, let me break that down for you.  I was headed to Lake Thunderbird. Notice the cloud directly over the lake.

Cloud cover means no moonbeams. No moon means no moonlight for paddling. No paddling means I'm cranky. This is not a laziness issue, but rather an indication that the weather gods hate me.


I finally decided that I would at least drive out to the lake, even if meant just watching lighttening all night (refer back to Perseids watching night.)  I knew that with a waning 95% full gibbous moon it should be decent light if the clouds clear. I knew this because I have celestial connections. And because I have moonphases on speed dial.

And at 9:40 p.m. last night, I was no longer a lazy bum, because my launch looked like this:

And it was well with my soul.