Saxon vs. A Pile of Snow

Our bag that we use to tote firewood from outside unexpectedly gave in to gravity last night and fell over. This startled Saxon, the lovable hellhound, who had been mostly curled up by the fire. I say mostly because he has never seemed to master the ball. He curls up, but his feet always stick out like prongs.

The bag of firewood tipped over. His reaction, growl at it. This action reminded me of another story from when he was naught by an alien looking pup, the time he lost a fight to a pile of snow.

Here is the dog.

Here is a pile of snow.

(Not the pile of snow, because alas, I was without a camera.)

We had taken the dogs out to the Lawrence Bark Park, which is worth the drive. It's about 13 acres of fields, streams, forest and clearings for dogs to get into much trouble. We usually only take the dogs there in winter because there are rattlesnakes. I know this because a) my brother-in-law saw one and b) Saxon found the frozen corpse of one and thought it was the greatest toy ever.

On this winter day, the snow had all melted from the grass except for one large pile squatting near the edge of the field. I assume some kids had tried to build up a fort or something because there are no roads to plow in this clearing. Anyway, Saxon, who a little less than a year at this point, had seen snow before so I didn't think he would suddenly freeze with his hackles up.

I looked around for deer or a bobcat. Nope, nothing. And yet, there was the dog with a growl resounding in his throat. Meanwhile, the other dog was trotting ahead, nose to the ground, without a care in the world.

Saxon barked. Hackles up, he started to circle the pile of snow. It finally occurred to me that he'd never seen snow piled up before, especially when all the other snow had melted. The animal let another canine snarl tear from his throat, a sound to send terror into the spines of any small, furry animal. And, let's be honest, any ape-shaped animal too.

However, the snow staunchly held its ground in the face of the approaching, menacing dog.

Again, Saxon barked and circled closer. The snow still had not made a move. Ears back, hackles up, growling like a beast, he neared the snow. Finally, he'd circled within a few feet, and snow hadn't reacted at all.

The dog lunged.

I don't know if he was trying to bite the snow or if he was just trying to aggressively sniff the pile, but either way, as soon as his nose touched the icy coldness, the poor creature was off for the treeline like a rifle shot. He tripped over his tail twice.

Snow 1, Dog 0

Happily, the event did not traumatize the animal and today he is up to the task of subduing all manner of wild snows that dare enter our back yard.

Bachelorette Cake Pan

Note: This is a story about a Bachelorette Party, so it comes down to an adult joke/misunderstanding. I don't really like doing adult-themed subjects online since the net is so very public, so this may be the only one you'll ever read from me. It's just an honest, funny story. Anyway, don't read this if you're too young to go to a bachelorette party.







I would like to point out that I am one of the youngest of all my cousins. Not the youngest, but not too far off.

My cousin Leigh was the first of us to get married, so she got the kick-ass, buy-everything-in-the-store-who-cares-about-the-price-because-it's-on-dad's-credit-card party.

My other cousin Marcy and I dangled cut-out streamers across Marcy's living room. I taped them up with my eyes closed. Many fuzzy (possibly furry) decorations streamed across the space, but I didn't actually look at them. I especially didn't stare at the plastic crown with its wobbly "family jewels" on it. You know which jewels, and if you don't, I told you up at the top not to read this.

If I had a magic mirror and could use it to send a message across time, I know for a fact that I would not have believed myself if I told myself that this wouldn't phase me in a few years. I might have been a little freaked out by the talking mirror though.

Marcy's huge labrador Dexter also helped to decorate by grabbing the fuzzy decorations and scattering them about the room. He was perfect ambiance since his nickname is the S&M dog. He's entirely black (think black leather), has a spiked collar, and will walk up to you, arse first, demanding to be spanked. With fuzzy handcuffs between his fangs, he was perfect!

The room became a palace of phallic imagery, laced in more pink than I've ever witnessed before in one location. I'm sure at least 30% of it was on my face. All that was left to do was make the cake.

Baking! That would get me away from the decorations! With a thunderclap trailing my heels, I flew into the kitchen. I flipped on the oven and start mining for a cake pan underneath the sink. I'd just set the two round cake pans on the counter when Marcy exclaimed, "Not those! We gotta use the special one!"

Oh. Okay. I ducked back down and continued my under-sink spelunking expedition. A minor cave-in of cookie sheets crashed down, burying a deposit of casserole dishes. Any hope of discovering other cake pan strata instantly vanished.

Marcy started to pick through the grocery bags on the counter. "No, it's around here somewhere. We've gotta find this pan. I've got the different colored frostings, the whipped cream and the chocolate sprinkles all ready to go! Where could it be?" She flipped open her phone - this was in the days of yore and flip phones - and dialed her sister Kelly.

Across town:
Kelly didn't even notice her phone ringing as she rummaged through the over-filled trunk of her vehicle. Uncle Scott sifted through the other side of the paraphernalia. Kelly briefly wiped the sweat from her eyes as she tried to find her current college freshman report card.

Kelly, who can not only do an amazing karaoke of "It's Raining Men", was very smart. "It still can't believe my art teacher gave me a B on my design project!" She shoved aside a backpack full of either books or bricks, either way it carried the same weight.

Scott gently picked up the penis cake pan between two fingers and released it from the depths of the trunk into the sunlight. "You only got a B?"

How I Met My Husband and Other Zany Adventures Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first.

Cell phone in the Sands

Once again, I would like to remind everyone that this is what actually happened. This has not been embellished for comedic effect.

It happened on the night of the blue moon too. Honestly. So, let me begin, "Once in a blue moon..."

My friend Dave was visiting from Ireland. (This takes place after the previous story, obviously.) My roommate, Amy, and I even turned the awkward alcove in our apartment into a castle. Okay, a castle made of old refrigerator boxes we'd raided and then painted to look like a castle. This way, we had a guest bedroom. And our very own castle, who doesn't want to brag about that?

Alas, we forced him to leave the security of his cardboard fortress to venture forth on the classic American Road Trip. Keep in mind, he's from Ireland. I took a "road trip" over there with some of my friends, and after two hours, the driver had to stop and rest. "Two hours is too much." I looked around in confusion. "Are you kidding me? I'm just getting warmed up."

So, from Lawrence, we set out to see the Rockies, Mesa Verde, Grand Canyon, Moab, and of course, our first real destination, the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado. That's 662 miles from Lawrence or 1066 km. Google maps claims it takes 11 hours 15 minutes, but we made it in 10.

We also drove through a very lovely storm on the high plains with the lightning stabbing at the ground. Of course, while this storm is going on, the other half of the sky is completely blue. I'll never forget Dave look back and forth between blue sky-vicious storm-blue sky-vicious storm.

Amy and I thought it was perfectly normal. Because it is. Just not normal for the rest of the planet. We left all the lightning behind when he climbed into the Rockies, and soon arrived at the Great Sand Dunes National Monument.

It's getting closer to sunset, but we start on the dunes anyway. Come on, literal mountains of sand. It's like the sandbox from when you were a kid multiplied by infinity. How can one resist playing in it?

To gain perspective if you've never been there, here is a photograph.

Hmmm.... why do I feel like this is missing something?

That's better!

So, there we were walking across Tatoonie the Great Sand Dunes Desert.

The further we got into the dunes, the lower the sun drifted and out came the blue moon. We were having a blast climbing up and jumping down the mountains of sand. However, around the nearby peaks, I kept an eye on the gathering clouds and the dancing lightning.

Soon, they started to drift toward the dunes. Literal mountains of sand + lightning + humans = Bad Idea. There's no cover. Although, if you take the humans out of the equation, lightning + sand = fulgurite, which is a mineral I find really cool. Yes, I still collect rocks. I am not ashamed of this.

However, with an oncoming storm, we needed a way to quit the sandy peaks with speed, and none of us had concealed a sled on our persons. So, we decided to roll. It'll be like we're kids again!

I about made myself sick. Rolling down those hills was great at first. Then, on distances that one should considered taking a sled, the fun of rolling quickly, well, unrolls and turns into that roller coaster ride that you can't get off until it's over.

At the little shelf between the base of one dune running into the slope of another dune, I slid to a stop. I sat and stared while I waited for the stars to stop circling around in the sky. I seriously thought I was going to lose my dinner.

Then, for some reason unknown, I rolled down the next slope. Obviously, in this, Amy, Dave and I split up. Too many arms and legs to bounce into. I waited for them to catch up to me, and I saw Amy kicking at the sand.

She'd forgotten to stick her personal items in pockets where they wouldn't jump for freedom, and had lost: keyring, flashlight, pocket knife and cell phone (or mobile phone, as Dave kept insisting).

But, without the flashlight, we weren't going to be able to trace our steps. The lightning flashes sure weren't luminous enough, except when they became very bright and you become a fixture in fulgarite. The wind pushed my hair into my face and kicked up the sands around my feet. I knew that our tracks would be gone tomorrow.

Calling the cell phone was useless too. No reception. (Hopefully, they've fixed that by now, but probably not.)
That night was spent shaking sand out of our clothing at an Alamosa hotel. It got everywhere. I was human sandpaper! Unfortunately, what it was sanding was my skin.

The next day, we reported Amy's losses at the ranger's station, and the guy laughed at us. Frankly, I didn't blame him. We trekked back out into the dunes. Of course, no tracks.

I saw something bright bouncing back the early sun at us. I scrambled through the sands, and it was a candy wrapper! I couldn't believe it! Why would anyone leave something that like out here? It would never get picked up and these things don't degrade!

This pattern continued seven more times. I couldn't fathom how inconsiderate these people were being. Finally, well ahead of Amy and Dave, I sat down for a water break.

Amy climbed up and collapsed next to me. Wordlessly, I handed over my canteen. She pointed. "I think I see something shiny."

Probably another candy wrapper, but what the hell?

I treaded on my hands and knees to make it up the incline. The sand scattered beneath them, threatening to send me sliding. This would have been a great hill for rolling.

And, there they were. The shiny flashlight, phone, keys and knife. All in one spot. I couldn't believe it.

We reported them found at the ranger's station. This time, the guy responded with, "Uhhhh..." and didn't form an actual word for over a minute. Worth it!

I was still finding sand in those jeans for months. No matter how many times I washed them.

By the way, you can drive from the Grand Canyon (somewhere on the north side) to Lawrence, KS in 21.5 hours (including stops).

**

Driving in that same car, this time to Arkansas, I read the "yeah, right" look all over M's face. At least, after the initial wide-eyed stunned look had faded.

"You're the luckiest person that I've ever met!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe you!"

At that point, I figured I really didn't have a shot with this guy. Funny how I was wrong.