San Diego adventure

We're just back from a lovely long weekend in San Diego, visiting an old friend of mine and her husband. Betty and Mark actually let us stay in their new house with them, which was great -- but also a bit terrifying, knowing as we do how destructive the twins can be. They weren't TOO bad. I think the only breakage was one wineglass. Unless I'm forgetting something. It's easy to block these things out.

We drove down there on Thursday afternoon, arriving in time for dinner. It's about 222 miles from our house to theirs, and we made the drive in a little over 4 hours, including two short stops.

On Friday, we spent several hours at the fabulous San Diego Zoo. Here we are looking at the flamingos.

Next, we saw the orangutangs being fed.

And then we decided it was time for our own lunch. After lunch we asked everyone what they wanted to see. Baby B wanted to see gorillas, Baby A wanted to see lions, Rocket Boy wanted to see polar bears, and I wanted to see Galapagos tortoises. So we first took the Hippo Trail to the gorilla exhibit (didn't get a good shot of the gorillas, but here are the men sitting on a statue of a hippo),

saw lots of monkeys and birds and other animals, and finally reached the polar bear exhibit, at the far end of the park. The twins were more interested in the statue of the polar bear than the actual animal, but the adults had a good time looking at the bears, reindeer, and arctic foxes.

The "polar plunge" section was not too far from the lions and jaguars.

We got to watch the jaguars being fed "blood popsicles," which was quite interesting, if a bit gross.

After the big cats, we had to take a very long walk around the zoo to get back to the entrance/exit, and we were all very tired when we got there, so we let that be the end of the day. I was a little bummed that I didn't get to see the tortoises, but only a little. It was a really nice day.

Saturday we drove over the famous Coronado Bridge to Coronado Island, where we had lunch right near the water and then took the ferry back to the mainland. Here's the ferry we took:

And here we are getting off it, after a pleasant ride:

We walked along the pier to Seaport Village, where there are lots of shops and restaurants -- and a carousel, which of course we rode. Baby A, as usual, insisted on riding with me on what he calls a "couch" -- the animals are just way too scary for him.

But Baby B was unexpectedly brave and decided he wanted to ride by himself on a giraffe (a non-moving one). I was so proud of my little boy.

Afterward, as a special treat, we let the boys choose balloon creatures ($3 each from a vendor, and we got to watch them being made).

After a snack at the local independent bookstore (and several purchases, of course), we walked back to where we caught the ferry for the ride back to Coronado. Here we are getting off the boat.

Another really nice day all around.

Today we got up and packed, said our goodbyes, and went off to shop at Fry's and Trader Joe's before beginning the long drive home. About a half hour out of town we stopped in Escondido and spent an hour at a wonderful park there, Grape Day Park, where the kids played on the cool grape-themed equipment,

and got wet in the fountain.

The rest of the drive home involved the usual screaming and fighting over inconsequential things, but eventually it ended. And you know what? January is finally over! It's February! I'm so relieved.

Preschool update

I noticed that I haven't been posting much about homeschool preschool so far this year, after posting about it constantly all fall.

I just haven't been as into it in January. I was reading the latest post in my favorite blog, and the author makes reference to "the eleven weeks of January." Oh so true! I mean, it isn't, but it feels like it. Where was I reading -- oh, The New Yorker recently had an article about Danish TV and someone in the article talked about the months of the year in Denmark being all the usual ones, plus November, November, November, November, November, and November. (I might not have the right number of Novembers, but you get the idea.) And I spent some time thinking about which month is worse, November or January. But I think January is worse, because in November you've got Thanksgiving to look forward to (of course, the Danes don't), and then of course the whole Christmas shebang. In January you've got Martin Luther King Day and you can look forward to Valentine's Day. Uh uh, doesn't cut it.

Anyway, homeschool preschool has been languishing. I'm still doing it, but with much less enthusiasm. I get up as late as the twins will let me, we get dressed and have breakfast, maybe I put in a load of laundry -- and then I'm done. That uses up all the energy I have. (I am really a tortoise, you know. Or a bear. I should be HIBERNATING right now.) Baby B will say mournfully, "Can we do school?" and I'll think, "Are you out of your mind?"

We're working our way through the alphabet now, and I've had some misses. A is for Airplane week was a definite miss, since I'm not interested in airplanes. B is for Bird week was better, but since we'd already put up the bird feeders back in December, there wasn't much to do. We played Bird Bingo (a Christmas gift to me), which the twins like a lot, and one day we made bird cookies.

C is for Colorado was a boring week, because it's not like we can go to Colorado for a quick visit, and anyway, the twins barely understand what a state is. The most fun thing we did that week was bake a mountain-shaped cake in a pyrex bowl, frost it with chocolate frosting, sprinkle "turtle crunch" on top for rocks and such, and spray it with whipped cream for snow.

During D is for Dinosaur week we made dinosaur cookies and ate soup with Dumplings in it one night and at Denny's another night. We also read a lot of dinosaur books. But again, I wasn't really inspired.

This week we're doing both E is for Electricity and F is for Fire, and that's been kind of fun. We got out all their toy fire trucks and compared them to the pictures in a library book about fire trucks, and then we had all the fire trucks rush to put out a fire in the Bat Cave (another Christmas present). We talked about what to do in a fire, and found two exits in each room. We had Fish sticks for dinner on Monday and scrambled Eggs tonight. Today we also did some experiments with static electricity, including the one where you put rice krispies on the table, rub a balloon on your hair, and watch the rice krispies jump onto the balloon,

and the one where you tie a cheerio to a string and hang it from the table and then bring a balloon (that's been rubbed on your hair) close to it and watch the cheerio jump toward the balloon.

I'm not sure if the twins understand the connection between static electricity and the electricity that runs the lights and the TV and the vacuum cleaner, but it's OK. We did read The Magic School Bus and the Electric Field Trip, but they haven't asked to read it again, so I think it may have confused them. The main thing they took away from today's activities was an interest in balloons. I could barely read a bedtime story to them tonight, they were so busy trying to blow up more balloons.

Anyway, my big news is that as of Monday, the twins will start going to real preschool -- that is, they'll go to daycare from 9 to 2 instead of 11:30 to 5, so they'll be there when the formal "school" activities go on, such as Circle Time and workbooks. I have mixed feelings about this, but we're going to give it a try. It means that my own "school" stuff will be more low-key, but since it's already more low-key, I think that'll be OK. I'll still plan activities around a weekly theme. We'll read books and play games and do art -- and when we cook, we'll be making dinner and dessert, rather than a morning snack.

We'll see how it goes.

Bowling in Ridgecrest

This weekend we had thought of going out and about somewhere, but the weather didn't cooperate. First we had RAIN, wonderful, glorious RAIN, on both Thursday and Friday. A really good soaking. Oh, I hope this means we'll have wildflowers. We'll have to get more than this, but it raises my hopes.

Saturday it cleared up, but first there was heavy fog (very unusual for Ridgecrest), and then of course everything was all wet, plus it was still raining in other areas. Not a good travel day, nor a good hiking day, nor a good park day. So we stayed home. And on Sunday we had very high winds, so it was also not a good travel day, nor a good hiking day, nor a good park day. It would have been a good day to see a movie, but there are NO children's movies in theatres right now.

What to do, what to do. Then I remembered that Ridgecrest has a bowling alley! We went to it once, back in September, when the twins were invited to a birthday party there. Now, granted, that bowling experience was a total disaster -- they didn't understand what to do, couldn't lift the smallest bowling balls, wouldn't pay attention... But heck, I thought, that was almost five months ago! We could give it another try. Secretly, I was itching to bowl. I haven't gone bowling in decades -- I have no idea when the last time was. And bowling is fun! Rocket Boy agreed that it was worth a try, so we went.

Driving over, I mentioned that we'd need to wear bowling shoes, and the twins were immediately very concerned. "I'm not going to wear the special shoes," Baby A announced, and Baby B said, "Me too." I decided not to say anything, because once you get into an argument like that, it's all over.

At the bowling alley, we asked if we could have one of the kids' lanes, which have little fences on the sides so that balls don't go into the gutters. The man mumbled something about how he didn't usually rent those (for some reason that I couldn't hear), and then rented one to us. Rocket Boy and I got shoes, but the man said the twins didn't need them, thank goodness. We chose 11-pound balls, and the man produced some 7-pound balls for the boys, and we were off to Lane One.

Where it quickly developed that nothing had changed in the almost-five-months since the last bowling experience! Actually, I shouldn't say that. Baby A, who is more stereotypically boyish, not to mention extremely competitive (or is that the same thing?), did his own bowling. He couldn't lift the 7-pound ball, so he squatted at the line and then pushed the ball as hard as he could with both hands.

Baby B is our dreamy one, who likes puzzles and dolls and is much less competitive. He enjoys board games, such as Candyland, but does not mind at all if he doesn't win. He's a good rock climber, but he never seems interested in athletic games. True to form, he gave up on bowling almost immediately. I had to take most of his turns for him -- and since the finger holes in his ball were too small for me, I did the squat-and-push move for him too.

Rocket Boy and I had fun. We were soooooooo rusty -- and I don't think I was ever any good at this sport. But I'm as fiercely competitive as my older (by one minute) son, even in situations (such as this one) where it is really not appropriate to be. So I threw myself into the game, and in fact won it. Rocket Boy struggled a bit, but he worked on his form until he started doing better too.

And here are our final scores:

Baby B messed with the electronic scoreboard a bit (instead of bowling), so the last few scores are messed up. The scoreboard would say it was the next person's turn, even though there were only 3 pins standing, etc. But I did win -- I think -- and as you can see, I'm still excited about it. Unfortunately, RB and I agreed that it might be better not to go bowling again for another 6 months or so, see if the twins are more interested in it then. Of course, by then we'll be back in BOULDER.... In the meantime, there's always Candyland.

Surprise Canyon

My last post was so gloomy, I have to stick in something a bit more cheerful. We did two nice things over the long weekend, one which I photographed and one which I didn't.

On Saturday we drove north up to Keough Hot Springs (outside Bishop) and went for a lovely swim. Air temps were in the 50s, so the warm water felt divine. We'd gotten a late start from Ridgecrest (what else is new?), so after we got out of the water, we had to rush to make it back to Lone Pine before it was too dark to play in the lovely park there. Then after a truly disgusting dinner at the Carl's Jr. nearby (when will I learn?), we drove back to Ridgecrest in the dark. There was almost no one on the road, so it was an easy drive.

On Monday we had thought of going to the Bakersfield zoo, but decided we didn't want such a long drive. I had kind of a hankering to visit the Panamint Valley (the valley between Trona's Searles Valley and Death Valley), and Rocket Boy was up for it, so after lunch we headed east (again, much too late a start, but Late Starts R Us). Very soon after you enter the valley, you come to the signs for Ballarat.

We turned right (south?) and drove to the little ghost town, but didn't stop (we've been there before). Instead, we turned left (east?) onto Indian Ranch Road, which turned out to be pretty bad -- it hasn't been graded in a while, and it has wash after wash that you have to drive over carefully. I had read somewhere that it was 7 miles to Surprise Canyon, and I wasn't thinking about how we were going to have to turn right at some point to actually reach the canyon. A couple of miles from Ballarat we saw this sign,

but we only saw the "Indian Ranch" side, not the "Surprise Cyn" side. In other words we missed our turn. Eventually we figured it out and went back.

Surprise Canyon road is TERRIBLE, especially as you get closer to Surprise Canyon. But you know, it's the desert, and it's not a national park, it's just BLM land, and almost no one lives in the Panamint Valley, and Inyo County has no money, etc. You just have to set your standards low (and have big strong tires).

Finally we reached the "parking lot," after which point you hike.

What a pleasant surprise! And how appropriately named this canyon is.

It's very beautiful. And so green! Remember, it's January, there haven't been any rains to speak of this year, and in any case the wildflowers don't bloom for another couple of months. Elsewhere in the desert it's really barren right now. But not in Surprise Canyon! Surprise! There are springs that feed the creek, so it has water year-round. Lots of water!

If you follow the "trail" all the way up the canyon (which we didn't, because we didn't have enough time), you come to the remains of Panamint City, which was destroyed by a flood in I think 1876? Somewhere around there. It was a silver mining camp. Another mining operation set up in the 1980s was destroyed by another flood in 1984. And after that, people started doing extreme jeeping up the canyon, until the "road" was destroyed by another flood in 2001. You really get the sense that this canyon doesn't like to be interfered with. After that, the BLM closed the canyon to motor vehicles, THANK GOODNESS. And the whole canyon came back, green and gorgeous. We definitely want to come back here in the spring. This is one place that I'm sure has wildflowers every year.

I love the desert and I am going to miss it when we go.

January at its Januariest

I don't enjoy this month, no matter how hard I try, and I suppose I'm not trying very hard this year. People die in January, like Huell Howser. We've just passed the 5th anniversary of my sweet mother's death, so I can let that go for another year. And the weather is getting warmer, so eventually I should start feeling better, but so far no go. Mostly I keep thinking about how we've had no rain, so there won't be any wildflowers again this year, and more tortoises will die.

On a more positive note, the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest (aka ABNA) begins in January, and that's always fun. This year I didn't really have anything to enter, but then I remembered the mystery novel I wrote a few years ago, that I never finished. I dug it out, got back to work on it, managed to tie up enough of the loose ends that it sort of made sense, and entered it.

Guess what? I'm NOT going to win the contest. However, Amazon accepts the first ten thousand novels entered, and I'm sure mine isn't the only one that shouldn't have been. Anyway, the first round is based on your pitch for the novel and it's a crapshoot -- everyone admits it's a crapshoot -- bad pitches make it through, good pitches get rejected. I'll report back in a month to let you know how mine did.

But here's the January-ish part. ABNA has discussion boards where the writers who have entered the contest hang out while waiting for the results of the next round. And for the last couple of years two men in particular have made those boards enjoyable. Sooooooo hilariously funny. Anyway, first thing I read on the boards this year is that one of the two men is in the hospital, seriously ill. Major bummer. Then, a few days later here comes the news that the other funny guy is DEAD -- last summer, of a very quick-moving cancer. Jesus H. Christ (sorry Ridgecrest). I hate it when cyberspace acquaintances die. It's as if a cartoon character -- or I suppose I should say a character in a novel -- suddenly comes to life -- and then dies. I am feeling really sad about this.

I suppose the real reason I'm sad about this death is that the funny guy was an unpublished novelist, about my age. Just one more reminder, as if I needed one (NOT), that life is short and most of our efforts are for naught.

Which means, of course, that we should all stick with it and do what we do, because we have no idea when it's going to end, nor do we know which (if any) of our efforts will bear fruit. And in my case, there are two little four-year-old efforts who need attention, regardless of whether I get around to anything else. That's cheering, actually.

I promise, I'll get with it soon. Just as soon as January is over. In the meantime, I'm going to bed with a book.

Burro Schmidt's Tunnel

January is passing, as it does -- that is to say, not nearly quickly enough. Last week we were very sad to learn of the death of Huell Howser, our all-time favorite TV personality. In his honor we watched one of his shows online -- it was about visiting a place where they make menudo, the classic Mexican soup made of tripe (http://colorlines.com/archives/2013/01/huell_howser_redefined_who_could_be_californian.html -- scroll down to the bottom). Just hilarious, classic Huell. He was trying so hard to be positive and enthusiastic, and you could just tell he didn't want to have to eat tripe soup. Finally he took a deep breath and tried some, and actually seemed to like it. It was so very dear. Rest in peace, Huell, we'll miss you, but what a wonderful legacy you've left to all of California.

For a much less well-done video, you may want to check out this YouTube selection, showing Rocket Boy building a tortoise burrow in our backyard: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLS5rG02keU. I was the videographer for most of it, so I'm to blame for the poorly composed shots, wild camera movements, etc. Baby A provides comic relief, picking up a pickaxe and a saw. At the very end, after several seconds of blue screen, I pop up showing off the completed tortoise pen and tortoises. I'm wearing a shirt from Kmart and pants from Walmart and the scene is so badly in shadow that you can't see much of anything. I hope this video stays up forever in memory of our time in Ridgecrest.

This past weekend we visited a local tourist attraction, Burro Schmidt's tunnel. Burro (I keep wanting to type Burrow, have tortoises on the brain) Schmidt was a typical crazy desert person who spent 38 years digging a tunnel through the mountains near here. Digging by hand, that is. 

Huell Howser did a show about Burro Schmidt's tunnel several years ago, which we had seen, and Rocket Boy took the twins to see the tunnel a few years ago, but without flashlights. I'd never seen it. So we decided now was the time. We brought six or seven flashlights and some extra batteries. Ten years ago, Rocket Boy and I had to hike all the way down Half Dome to the Yosemite Valley floor in the dark and all our flashlights ran out of batteries on the way, so we're sensitive about stuff like that.

The turnoff to the tunnel is on Highway 14 a few miles north of Red Rocks State Park. The sign (see above) is easy to miss. If you don't miss it, you get the fun of driving 10 (not 8) miles on a very rough road up into the mountains. But it's pretty well marked. Here's Baby B getting ready to go into the tunnel.

It's been just freezing here recently, as it is all over California (can't help thinking it has something to do with Huell's warm personality having been snuffed out). I was thinking a dark, dank tunnel would not be a good place to be, but of course it was a lovely place to be, nice and warm. It's probably really nice on hot days too, nice and cool. I guess it really is a kind of burrow.

It took us about 15 minutes to walk through it. Here's a shot of the twins inside:

And here we are coming out the other end:

It's just not at all apparent why this tunnel was dug, because when you come out the other end you aren't actually NEAR anything. I mean, it's the other side of the mountain, so I guess that's good, but you're so high above the Garlock Road that the cars on it look like ants. Or something smaller than ants. Dust mites.

After a few minutes we turned around and walked 15 minutes back through the tunnel to the car. There's a lovely view of Robber's Roost and the Eastern Sierra from the parking area.

Oh yeah, it's pretty here, if you know where to look. And Huell always did.

Happy New Year

I've been neglecting this blog, so I figure the best way to get started again is to jump in head first. Happy new year! If it is happy. January is such a less than enjoyable month, even in Ridgecrest. It's so cold!

But the days are getting longer, and that means spring is coming (eventually), and that means I have a cross-country move to plan. A thought that sends me diving under the covers with anxiety.

I know I'm anxious because I'm not reading. When I'm depressed, I read. I bury myself in stories. But when I'm anxious I do puzzles. Jigsaw puzzles, crossword puzzles, computer solitaire. I buy puzzle magazines and work my way through all 100 or 200 or 500 puzzles. My favorites are the kind where you don't have to think outside the puzzle at all: all the answers are provided, you just have to fit them together properly.

I've got two puzzle books going right now, one in the bathroom and one by the bed. My stacks of books to read grow ever higher, as I fiddle with Syllacrostics and Frameworks and Logic Problems.

But enough about that, it's making me anxious to talk about it.

How were your holidays? We had the usual lovely visit with the relatives up in the Bay Area. It was very green and very damp, which is how Christmas usually was when I was a child. While we were there, the boos were accidentally introduced to the wonders of iPads (which they, misunderstanding, called "iPatches" and of course we all began to call them that too). I have been coveting an iPatch of my own for quite some time, but when I saw how the boos glommed onto Aunt Baba's and Cousin Risa's, I rethought that idea. If I do get one, I'm going to keep it hidden. Boos get FAR too much screen time already. Here they are looking at something on an iPatch with Cousin Lauren.

We got home the night of December 30th, so were able to "celebrate" New Year's Eve in Ridgecrest (i.e., stay up until midnight and then go to bed immediately without even a glass of champagne).

On New Year's Day we went to California City and did some exploring.

It was cloudy and cold, but we didn't get any rain. I was feeling really low, but cheered up when we found a nice pizza parlor that was showing the Rose Bowl.

We got back to doing "school" that week, with the theme of Airplanes (A is for Airplane -- we're going to run through the alphabet now). But I don't know anything about airplanes and felt very uninspired. Rocket Boy finally took over and insisted we go to Edwards Air Force Base on Saturday to see the museum there.

Edwards is a closed base, but Rocket Boy got us in with a special pass he has. Unfortunately the museum was unexpectedly closed.

But we did get to see some airplanes outside on the grounds.

And that was enough about airplanes for me. Just not my thing.

Sunday was Epiphany, also known as Three Kings Day, so I made a Three Kings Cake, sort of a cheating version.

This is actually two tubes of orange-flavored Pillsbury cinnamon role mix, unrolled and wrapped together and braided into two rings (a little one inside a big one), with raisins stuck on it here and there. When it came out of the oven after about 20 minutes, I put frosting on it (included in the packages) and then decorating sugar in Mardi Gras colors. I also hid a little ceramic chicken in it (you're supposed to hide a ceramic baby, but I didn't have a ceramic baby, I had a ceramic chicken) and Baby A got the piece with the chicken in it, which pleased him. The best thing about this "cake" is that I DIDN'T LIKE IT but Rocket Boy and the twins loved it. I had one small piece and then they ate all the rest. Fought over the last bits tonight. I really need to find more recipes like this (preferably not made out of disgusting prefab "foods") so that I can make my family happy but me less fat.

And now the second week of January has begun (we are doing B is for Bird this week, much easier for me). We'll get through it. January always ends and then there's February, a much much nicer month.

Merry Christmas

This has been a very up and down Christmas season, what with Newtown and all. Yesterday, Christmas Eve, I was really feeling down -- probably mainly because I was coming down with a cold. But it wasn't just that. I was feeling overwhelmed. Christmas sure is different when you're the parent! It's wonderful... but it's also kind of not so fun. So much work, so few rewards. All day I kept wanting my mother to walk into the house and take over.

Or... you know, I think maybe I just wanted her to walk into the house. I wouldn't have minded doing all the work if she could have been sitting in a chair nearby, chatting with me. Maybe that's all it was. I just missed my mom. Hmm.

This is the first year the kids have been TOTALLY cognizant of the holiday, and it's also the first year (since they were babies) that we've spent Christmas Eve at home. Every other year we've been visiting family, and we've hung stockings in a hotel room. It was important to me that we do it at our house this year, but it meant that I had to make up all the family traditions, since none were in place. It also meant that because I was dumb enough to put some presents under the tree yesterday, all day long, Baby A said, "Mom! Can we open the presents now!" and all day long, I said, "No, not until Christmas," and Baby A said, "But I want to open them NOW!" and I said, "You can open one present tonight before you go to bed, but we open the rest tomorrow," and Baby A said, "No! I want to open them NOW!!!!!" and so on and so on, all day long.

I started wondering why I was making him wait. Why not just have Christmas now? I had no idea that Christmas involved being so dictatorial, so, well, mean. But I hung in there. We had homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner, which was a big hit, and everyone ate a lot of it. Then we let the twins open one small present each, little toy motorcycles, and then we packed everyone in the car and drove off to the Wizard of Oz house, which was all lit up and receiving guests. We tried to take a picture with Glinda, but Baby B did not want to participate.

Then we drove around and looked at lights for a while, while Baby A took a much needed nap (he hadn't slept at all that day, too frantic about the presents), and then we went home and opened one more present: new warm fuzzy throws (from Kmart, don't knock it), for them to use as blankets on their beds. These were a huge hit.

It took them a long time to settle down for the night, but finally their room was quiet. And then Santa Claus came.

(That's a scorpion sticking out of Baby B's stocking and a rattlesnake sticking out of Baby A's. Very desert-y.) Santa also left presents under the tree,

including a new small train set and the big one, a ROUNDHOUSE, which they have been asking for all year.

Still feeling gloomy, I went to bed without reading any Christmas stories. I woke up around 7:30 and the house was quiet, so I got dressed and then crawled back into bed with Dickens' "Christmas Carol." Right around 8 am, I heard stirrings in the other bedroom, and pretty soon two little boys came out and it was time to see what Santa had brought. It was a merry time.

Almost all the presents were appreciated (the exception being new warm jackets -- I suppose it's a bit like getting underwear for Christmas). I gave Rocket Boy some tea and a new shirt, and he gave me a really nice stone tortoise that I like a lot. The twins have been playing happily all morning -- QUITE a change from yesterday. And my mood is entirely different too, thank goodness.

I still miss my mother so much, but it feels like she's with me today.

Lighting candles

Well, the glow from the party didn't last long.

I read that some people in Newtown are taking down their Christmas decorations. I noticed a house on our street tonight that had toned down its decorations -- where before they had all sorts of things going on, now they have only some blue lights. Another group of houses that are just incredibly gaudily decorated, and also hooked up to a radio station so that the lights go on and off to the music, had turned the music off, and the lights were just steadily on. Of course I can't explain this to the twins (we're not talking to them about the tragedy).

In contrast, we finally put up our outside lights today. But it's just one simple string across the garage door and another small string wrapped around a bush. We also put up our tree today and burned the eight candles of the last night of Hanukkah. I don't feel like we're celebrating. It's more that we're surrounding ourselves with the comforting warmth of family and home and memories.

In my family of origin, we have some pretty brutal memories surrounding the holiday season, enough so that the holidays are changed -- for us all, I think. Well, I shouldn't speak for others. Changed for me, I can say that. At this time of year I have to spend some time thinking about the sad parts. I don't feel as though I can talk about these things with most people, because they recoil in horror. And that in itself is a kind of loss. But Christmas for me is still a time of comfort, because I have a lot of happy memories too. I like to relax into the memories of Christmases spent with my mother, who is gone now.

I can't imagine what the holidays are going to be like -- forever more -- for the families of the 26 people who were murdered. Especially the mothers and fathers of the 20 little children. The families of the 6 adults can know their murdered loved ones were heroes. The families of the little children -- what can they do? Maybe they'll form a group and have memorials together each year. That might help.

I hope something can be done about the guns. I feel ready to help out with that one. Don't you just want to storm the NRA headquarters and rip their people limb from limb? I guess that's the wrong attitude. Bury them in daisies, or something. I'm just done with Republicans and people who want everyone to carry a gun (a Sig Sauer?), so we'll all be safer.

Mainly I want this not to be forgotten. Shooting after shooting, we just sigh and say "Another one." I want to stop doing that. I am so done with all these guns.

Lighting a candle in my mind for everyone who lost a little child on Friday. I can't stop hugging my babies.

Parties

I like a lot of things about the holidays... the lights... the music... the food (peppermint anything)... the family get-togethers... even the shopping, though it's less special in Ridgecrest. Trudging through a garish Kmart or Walmart is just not the same as wandering through a tastefully decorated boutique.

But for many years now one of my most favorite things about the holidays is the parties. I'm not even talking about friends' parties. Do my friends give parties? Do I have any friends? I'm talking about organizational parties. Club parties, school parties, work parties. I adore them all. So far this month I've been to three club parties, and next week we've got a school party at daycare and a party at Rocket Boy's work. I wish we belonged to more clubs so we could go to more parties.

RB doesn't share my love of these parties. And really, I'm not sure why I like them so much. They're a bother. You have to make food, buy something for a gift exchange, wear a holiday sweater. But I love all that. I love making a special little dish for a party (it's entirely different from, e.g., making dinner). I love looking for a nice little gift, "under ten dollars, please." I love putting on a green shirt and my jingle bell earrings.

Tonight we went to a simply splendiferous party for a club Rocket Boy belongs to in Trona. It went beyond all expectations.

I had to do a lot of work to get ready for it. We had to bring a side dish, so I cut up two big bowls worth of fruit -- watermelon in one, and pineapple, oranges, strawberries, bananas, and grapes in the other. That took a while. We also had to bring gifts for the kids to open, because the club provides gifts for the adults. So I had to shop (at Walmart) for the kids' gifts, and wrap them. Then they encouraged people to bring donations to Spark of Love (like Toys for Tots), so I had to shop (at Kmart) for those gifts too. Then we had to drive to Trona, which is half an hour east of us, with noisy, complaining four-year-old twins in the back seat.

But when we reached the building where the club has its headquarters, we were ushered into the back room and there was a long table with maybe 40 people sitting at it -- holiday placemats and napkins and centerpieces and favors -- just lovely! When everyone was ready, we said the Pledge of Allegiance and someone said a long prayer, and then we filed into the other room to load our paper plates with 30 different dishes (the other 10 people brought dessert).

After we ate, there was some club business, and then someone read "The Night Before Christmas." At each person's plate was an envelope. Whenever the words "the" or "and" were read aloud, you had to pass your envelope to the left. After the chaos died down, we opened our envelopes to find a number, and in that order people went up to the Christmas tree to pick out a gift. Mine was some soap and hand sanitizer, and Rocket Boy received a beverage "sleeve." The twins' gifts were small toy monster trucks. And then we had to drive back to Ridgecrest, with the twins fighting all the way, la la la.

It was fabulous. I'll be glowing like a front-yard Christmas display for days. Next up: Jesus's Birthday Party at daycare. Can this holiday season get any better?

Cold Weather -- NOT

I've gotten behind on posting, too much holiday stuff going on. Last week Rocket Boy was out of town doing some training, so the twins and I kept each other company. The homeschool preschool theme was "Cold Weather" -- NOT that we had any. It was pretty silly. I saw people in stores wearing shorts and tank tops. But we did some nice little activities, including making snowflake cookies (out of tortillas)

and paper snowflakes (actually Mom made these -- boos just wanted to make paper airplanes).

Another day we "skated" around the house wearing pieces of wax paper taped to our feet (a big hit -- seriously). By Friday, Dad was home and could help us with this exciting project: putting rock salt and food coloring on big blocks of ice (made by filling old milk cartons with water and putting them in the freezer overnight) and seeing what happens.

Not much happened for quite a while, but eventually some serious melting and color mixing got going.

But so many other things are going on right now, parties and events, and there's so much to do.

Last Friday was Pearl Harbor Day, and Rocket Boy was going to a party, so he took a cake:

We were concerned that it was in horrendously bad taste. But some of the people at the party were old enough to remember Pearl Harbor, and Rocket Boy said they seemed to enjoy it.

Saturday was the annual Ridgecrest Christmas Parade, in all its hometown goofy splendor.

It seemed smaller this year than previous years, but there was still lots to see

and lots of candy was handed out. Boos just stood there and stuffed their faces. I always forget about that part -- we need to bring trash bags! Instead, I stuffed my pockets with the wrappers. I also stuffed my mouth with bubblegum, because I don't like the twins to have it. This meant that the twins kept staring at my mouth, shouting "Blow a bubble! Blow a bubble!" so sometimes I blew a bubble and then they would try to pop it. Tacky, tacky, tacky.

The horses in the parade are always favorites, as is the pooper scooper boy who follows along behind them.

I don't know why this rider is carrying a gigantic American flag. It's Ridgecrest, I guess that's the only answer.

And then on Sunday we drove up to Kennedy Meadows and over Sherman Pass to Kernville, so we could see some snow. There wasn't as much as we expected, but we did find one nice side road covered with white stuff, so we played there for awhile.

Boos had a blast, and since then they've been asking me why we don't have snow in Ridgecrest. Next year, they should get their fill of the white stuff.

And now onwards into more and more parties, cooking, shopping, and all the rest of the madness that makes up the holiday season. I do love it.