How’s Your Aspen?

So…we’ve established that I lied in my blog yesterday.  Fall is NOT my favorite time of year.  Just as an FYI, Spring is my fave.  (They – you know them – the people in charge of the world – say that you have an affinity for the season in which you were born.  In my case it’s true.)

But that’s not to say that Fall in Colorado doesn’t have its perks.  Because it does; one of which is that the Aspen trees seem to change their leaves all-at-the-same-time, thus creating fields of gold on the mountainsides.  It’s really quite beautiful.  But you have to catch them at their peak!  Otherwise they’re just a scrabbly mess of mottled yellow.

[I could mention here that I now have that Sting song “Fields of Gold” playing in my head:  You’ll remember me when the west wind moves, upon the fields of barley.  You can tell the sun, in his jealous sky, when we walked in fields of gold.  When we walked in fields of gold…when we walked in fields of gold…]

But I won’t mention it.  Because then YOU might say, “Actually, that wasn’t an 80’s song.  It was released in 1993 on the album Ten Summoner’s Tales.”  To which I might reply, “Screw you!  Three years on either side of the 80’s is CLOSE ENOUGH to the 80’s to be CONSIDERED the 80’s!!  Therefore I continue to RULE in the ‘80’s song for every moment in life’ game we have going.”

At which point we’d devolve into name calling and hair pulling and would miss the entire point of the blog, which is: I’m incredibly witty – even when it comes to aspen trees.

So let’s carry on, shall we?

Several years ago, when I first moved here, I created the following poem to capture the majesty of Fall in Colorado.  It goes like this:

Fall comes to the Mountain Peaks
And we wait and wait for just the right week
To answer for ourselves the eternal question
When, where, why and HOW’S YOUR ASPEN?!?

HARDY har har har.  Get it?!  ASS-BEEN?!??   HARDY HAR HAR HAR har har har harharharharharhar ass-been hardyharharharharhar

Ahhh – Fall is in the air!

This is my favorite time of year…where you can watch BOTH baseball AND football games all Sunday long.  Yippee!!!

You have to know I’m lying here, right?  I can’t STAND the time-suck that these sports are.  Nor can I stand the useless conversations they engender.  Case in point?  Sunday’s conversation with Hubby during the Bronco’s game…

Me: “Ok, now we’re jumping over to baseball?  Why is baseball still going on?!  I thought they were called the Boys of SUMMER??  It’s October!  WRAP. IT. UP!  Didn’t they have the World Series already??”

Hubby:  “Nope.”

Me:  “Now we’re back to football.  When sports overlap like this, they need to cut someone’s season short.  And that’s ridiculous!  They just called him for unnecessary roughness?!  That’s a total joke.  The entire THING is unnecessary.  And rough.”

Hubby: “You know Sonny got called for unnecessary roughness during his football game Saturday?”

Me: “No.  I didn’t know that.  Is that when he was standing there and the kid ran into him and bounced off?”

Hubby: “Yep.  But that was a ticky-tack call anyway.”

Me:  “Ticky?  Tack?!  Is that an actual phrase?  Is that an actual phrase sanctioned by football people?”

Hubby: “Yep.  It means ‘tacky’ or ‘cheesy’.”

Me: “Ok, why not just SAY ‘cheesy’??  This is what I HATE about football.  It’s so in the weeds with the nonsensical minutiae about rules.  And?  It has its own LEXICON*!  Ticky-tack?!  So annoying.”

[…lower your sperm count.  Other complications include enlarged or painful breasts.  Problems breathing while you sleep.  Blood clots in your legs.  Axiron is flammable until dry.  Let Axiron dry before smoking or going near an open flame…]

Hubby: “Good Lord!  What is THAT for??  Low T?!?  What a fad.  Why would you take something that’s WORSE than the fad?”

Oh.  And also the commercials.  This is my favorite time of year because you can watch baseball, football AND horrific man-specific commercials all Sunday long.


*Yes, I actually say words like ‘lexicon’ during casual conversation.  Don’t you?

6th Grade

Anyone else remember 6th grade as being excruciatingly awkward?!  If so, then you’re in luck!  Because it still is.

I present to you Exhibit A.  Which has been subtitled: When Jack* asked Sydney* to go “out” with him (at the all-school roller skating party).

[Are you cringing yet?  Because you should be.]

This is how it unfolds…

It’s the all-school roller skating party.  Jack requests the One Direction song “What Makes You Beautiful” from the d.j.

You’re insecure Don’t know what for You’re turning heads when you walk through the door…

When it finally starts playing, he’s standing in the middle of the rink.  He reaches out his reed-thin arm and points at Sydney (Uhhh, me??!).  Then he skates over to where Sydney is standing beside the rink in her side ponytail and Keds.

Baby you light up my world like nobody else The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed But when you smile at the ground it aint hard to tell You don’t know Oh Oh You don’t know you’re beautiful…

Everyone is a hot, sweaty mess with their hair sticking to their foreheads.  It took so long for the d.j. to play the song that the party was almost over.  Sydney was all done skating and on her way out the door.  But Jack will not be deterred.  He skates over to Sydney.  And when he’s close enough, he shouts in her ear, “WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?!?”

So c-come on You got it wrong To prove I’m right I put it in a song I don’t know why You’re being shy And turn away when I look into your eyes Everyone else in the room can see it Everyone else but you…

Sydney shouts back, “MY PARENTS DON’T LET ME GO OUT…BECAUSE WE’RE IN SIXTH GRADE!” and turns and walks away.

If only you saw what I can see You’ll understand why I want you so desperately Right now I’m looking at you and I can’t believe You don’t know Oh oh You don’t know you’re beautiful Oh oh That what makes you beautiful…

Jack is left behind, broken-hearted, but wearing his lucky tank top.  Because that’s what you want to be wearing when your carefully-planned-and-executed Ask Out Scenario goes down in flames.  In front of the whole school.

Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Baby you light up my world like nobody else The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed But when you smile at the ground it aint hard to tell You don’t know Oh Oh You don’t know you’re beautiful…

Ugh – horrific, is it not???


*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.  And the awkward.  But the rest of the story is entirely true.  Sydney slept over at our house after the party and we got to hear her and Sissy discussing the ill-fated Ask Out Scenario umpteen times.  Over and over again.  In all its gory glory.  God bless 6th graders everywhere!


Because I’m a total dork, I signed up to receive newsflashes from my town hall.  (Dork!)  One such newsflash came across today while the entire family was on the way home from parent/teacher conferences.  Serendipitously enough, it was about “Local Youth Invited to Join 4-H!”  because really, what better time to be alerted about 4-H enrollment than on the way home from parent/teacher conferences with the entire family in the car!  Am I right, or am I right??  (I’m right.  I’m always right.  It always goes down much easier if you get on board with me always being right.  And no, I’m not joking.  In fact, it’s no joking matter.  Being right all the time is a terrible, terrible burden and it’s not something to joke about.  It’s serious business.)

After some general conversation about where we may have encountered 4-H (the County Fair we attend every year to see the 4-H exhibit and all the blue ribbon winning entries – Dork!) we shifted into a discussion about what exactly 4-H is (home economics projects, how to raise animals etc.).

Sonny immediately chimed in with, “I’ll do anything with monkeys!”

Me: “Uh….No.  There’s not even anything ABOUT monkeys!  4-H is more about baking cakes and how to raise livestock and stuff like that.”

Sissy (the girl who wants to be a veterinarian): “Oooh.  I’ll do livestock!  Can I sign up for livestock?”

Me: “Actually, Sweetie…I think ‘livestock’ is more along the lines of raising a calf all the way through butchering it and selling its meat.”

Sissy: “THAT’S LIVESTOCK?!?!  Then no, I don’t want to do THAT!”

Since this conversation is going nowhere fast, I decided to READ them the list of classes on offer, rather than us MAKING UP OUR OWN.  Some of the more intriguing options were:  Beef Breeding (this may be what they’re calling Livestock nowadays so as to set expectations right up front about the ‘butchering’ component), Dogs, Horseless Horse (this must be for Headless Horsemen…or for city kids who like horses but don’t have any??  It didn’t say anything about all the work being done on sawhorses…but I expect this might be the case – total yawn), Model Rocketry, Orienteering, Rabbit Breeding, Robotics, Veterinary Science.

Sissy:  “Ok, I want to do Dogs, Rabbit Breeding and Veterinary stuff.”  (Sense a theme here, anyone?  This girl basically just wants to spend her entire day hugging and kissing furry animals.)

Me: “Well…I’m not sure about the Rabbit Breeding thing, Honey.  If it requires us to build our own hutch in the back yard to raise specialty rabbits and eventually sell their furs, then we’re out.  If we can just go VISIT someone ELSE’S hutch?  Then we could consider it.”  (As a side note, I do not know why I have to constantly beat Sissy’s choices down with a death stick.  At least I have NEVER mentioned that part about euthanizing animals when she brings up her Veterinarian Dream.  I’m not THAT mean even though I feel like I could win a blue ribbon for Hard-hearted Mothering at the County Fair EVERY YEAR!)

Sonny: “If there’s nothing with monkeys, then I want to do Robots and Adventuring.”

Me: “Adventuring is more like Orienteering, I think, Buddy.  Like reading maps and using a compass to determine direction.  Is that what you want?”

Sonny: “No.  Then just robots.  Can you read some more about the robots?”

Hubby – who has remained the mute driver this entire time and has seen me go under THREE TIMES now in the course of this cockamamie conversation – finally pipes in with: “Sonny wants the class where you can drive by the 4-H office, pick up a robot and bring it home.  That’s actually the class that Sonny wants.”

Sonny: “Yeah!  That’s the class!  That way you guys don’t have to do any more dishes!!”

Yeah.  Good plan about the dishes.  So yes…let’s sign you up for robot class.  ‘Cause Heaven knows I could use some help with the dishes.  Well, and the laundry.  And really, the mothering in general – especially that part about enrolling in 4-H classes!

P.S.  I’m awarding bonus points if you can tell me what the 4-H’s in 4-H stand for.  Anyone?  Anyone??  And just as a fun fact, I’ll tell you that the 4-H slogan is “Learn by Doing.”  But if I were in charge, I’d change the slogan to “Learn by doing what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it.”

Accidental Stalker

One time I stalked a co-worker.  But it was a TOTAL accident!   And I was really only involved because I wrote the crazy stalking note.  Which was actually intended for a DIFFERENT co-worker.  Who is a dear, dear friend.

Back in the day when I had a job (no – I still haven’t found another one, but thanks for asking! stink eye, stink eye) I parked next to this dear friend’s car in the parking garage.  And thought it would be funny to write a note saying ‘Hi!’.  But all I had in the car were napkins.  And a red crayon.  So I used my “other” hand to write: I have my eye (big crazy eye drawing surrounded by spiky eyelashes) on U!

The end result was that the note looked like it was written by an escapee from the insane asylum, but I knew my friend would dutifully laugh and know immediately that I had written it because our cars were parked right next to each other.  Which is exactly what she did when she found the note.  But then?  Then she took the note and put it on the windshield of ANOTHER co-worker who was parked on the OTHER side of her, thinking that co-worker would enjoy a laugh as well.

Except?  This other co-worker actually thought someone had their eye (big crazy eye drawing surrounded by spiky lashes) on her in a super CREEPY way, rather than a funny HA HA way.  So she immediately filed an incident report with the security department.  Then – for the next two weeks – she had the building security guard escort her to her car, morning and night.  And when he wasn’t available, she had the Office Manager (who was a former Navy Quartermaster) do it instead.

Aaacckkk!!!  Whaaaa….whaaaaa happened?!?  How did this go so wrong, so quickly??  I only WROTE the note that put the fear into her heart.  I didn’t actually PLACE the note that put the fear into her heart on her car!  But it’s not like I could TELL anyone that without “outing” myself AND my friend in the process.  Instead, my friend and I became inadvertent partners in the accidental stalking of a co-worker who had a BLACK BELT IN KARATE (yes, literally).  So in addition to being worried we’d get thrown in jail, there was a we’re-afraid-she’ll-kick-our-teeth-in-if-she-ever-finds-out component to all of this.  So we just maintained our shameful, toothy silence.

Eventually the co-worker we accidentally stalked never got any more notes (cause we never SENT her any more, duh!) so she let up on the escorts to and fro and just contented herself with a mace-in-the-purse approach.

Ahhhhhhh…those were the days!  I sure do miss those days when I was running from the law.  And when I had a job – and got paid to perform zany antics and wacky hi-jinks.  Yep.  Those were the days.

These days?  These days I spend the entire day changing sheets, cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry.  No friends or co-workers to have a good laugh with.  The pay is total CRAP.  And there’s not a single soul around to kick my teeth in should I accidentally stalk them.

Talk about boring.