Anecdotes, Antidotes, and Anodes

Iditarod Comes to Colorado

 

(In trying to FOLLOW the RULES of Wordless Wednesday and not "talk" today... explanation will be posted sometime, somewhere on comment page.)

Winter Activities at Redstone, Colorado

Wanna go skinny dipping?  Follow me...

 

OK, so maybe we need to wear swim suits coats, boots, hats, and gloves due to the not-so-balmy temperature (something like THREE degrees). The attire you wear, or don't wear, is entirely up to you. So come on along, being careful not to bump your head on these frozen stalactites.

 

Try not to slip and slide as we meader dig our way through the picnic area.

 

Oh, boy. Oh, boy. There it is ! We've found it ! The swimming pool. 
But wait ! What's this ?
A sign.
What does it say?

 

POOL CLOSED...for the season ?  (No way !)

Boilers are under maintenance. (How 'bout: Boilers are under snow ?)

Pool temp low. (Ya think ?)

Dear Santa! I Asked for a Microwave. This Is Ridiculous!

Mon Funday is being hosted by my blog-babe-bud Sayre today.

Here's her challenge:

Write this assignment AFTER Christmas (or Hanukkah) and tell me two things about your holiday: 

What was the most touching, wonderful part of Christmas for you this year?

AND
What was the craziest, stupidest, funniest part this year?

 

 

Christmas for me, is all about the children and their wide-eyed innocence. With that being said, here are two photographs from our very special time together with two of our grandchildren:

 

   

Doesn't she just look like a little curly-red-haired angel ?  And you just gotta love that little string of teething drool on him. For more of our Christmas memories, just scroll down to the next post.

 

Now for the second part. That's not as easy because when you live in the same house as AnodeMan, there is ample blog fodder that can be categorized under each of these: 

1) craziest 2) stupidest 3) funniest... Because I know you don't have hours to sit here and read e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. that went on in this household, I'll stick to one subject mentioned in my post-Christmas letter to Santa:

 

Dear Santa,

I know you're busy and all, but my request was a simple one:  Microwave !

I even told you that if you couldn't bring me a new one, just send one of your elves, preferably a good-looking one with six-pack abs, to glue the handle back on my old one. It's very frustrating to try to open mine and end up with the handle in my hand while the food bubbles, boils, and petrifies inside. Let me just get straight to the point with this question:  What the heck kind of microwave is this ?  

 

It doesn't look anything like a microwave and I couldn't figure out where to put my pizza to reheat it. There were two long poles, a 1,000 foot extension cord, wheels, and all sorts of bells and whistles that I've never seen on a microwave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I checked both sides of this microwave contraption and found words like:  water out, air out, purge valve, (PURGE ? Do you think I have an eating disorder ?) pressure gauge, (Yes, sometimes I do have gas, but I don't need a gauge to measure it !) Backyard Blizzard, Home Snowmaker, Patented...there was even an illustration of a polar bear in sunglasses skiing down the side of it. Santa, in all my years, I've never seen a microwave like this one.

 

 

The other side had Danger, Warning, Caution, and a bunch of words in fine print that I couldn't read. (I know that my cooking is bad, but really now...DANGER, WARNING & CAUTION are a bit extreme !)There was an on/off switch, and that stupid polar bear was skiing on this side of my microwave, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

Later that evening, I looked out my front door and found my new microwave sitting on my front porch. There was also a frozen tub of water and what appeared to be two hoses attached to the bib on the side of my house. (The last time these hoses appeared here during the winter, our basement became a wading pool the following spring. Evidently, someone doesn't realize that when the water freezes inside the pipe, and the pipe reaches to the inner depths of our house, once the spring thaws come, the pipe has burst allowing thousands of gallons of water to be pumped inside. Yes, I speak from experience, AnodeMan's experience.)  

 

So, when AnodeMan and Youngest Son came back inside from the sub-freezing temps, the conversation went something like this: 

 

What are you doing with my new microwave ?

What new microwave ?

The blue one sitting on our front porch.

That's not a microwave.

Well, what is it then ?

It's a snow-making machine.

A what ?

A snow-making machine.

A snow-making machine ?

That's what I said. I didn't stutter.

Why do we have a snow-making machine ? We live in Colorado. People in Miami need snow-making machines. We need a snow-making machine about like we need some more holes in our heads. I didn't ask for a snow-making machine. I asked for a microwave. Simple enough...

Calm down.

I ! AM !  CALM !

Just wait. You'll love it. As soon as we figure out how to make it work...

 

Fast forward 30 minutes.  The conversation goes something like this:

 

The TV's just went off !
The surge protector has now engaged on my cornpooter ! 
We have no heat !
We have no lights ! 

WE HAVE NO ELECTRICITY !

 

YES ! But we have SNOW !  Lots of snow !  Where's the breaker box ?

 

    

 

Santa, this is just a wee much bit of snow. Remember, we're not at the North Pole. We're in Colorado.

(And this is a darn good photograph, if I say so myself.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't think our neighbors who just drove in from their other home in Florida appreciate how effective my new microwave/combination/snow-making-machine is.  Please note, he's not using a "Snow-Removal-Machine"...he's using a Leaf Blower ! And she's using a shovel. S-h-h-h. They live in Florida. They don't  know any better.

 

 

Poor baby. Rusty has never seen snow. He's lived in Florida all his life. He better get used to it. He lives next door to someone with a microwave that produces the stuff.  And no, you're not seeing double. There's another Boxer, Sammy,  in the background.

 

        

 

And, this is what Bubba thinks of the snow. He's writing his name in it. No, I think he's watering the sage brush.

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

All I have to say, Santa, is this is one fancy microwave. So glad I didn't ask for a refrigerator.

 

Sincerely,

Snow-Swampy

 

P.S. If anyone out there is interested in having a Microwave  like mine, clink the link.

 

OR, you can just call me at BR-549 and ask to borrow mine.  That way your car can look like this, too:

 

      

Christmas at Our House

Before I start chopping down carefully removing the ormanents from the tree, this post just had to go up.

Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without children. Here are the two we were lucky enough to have made some special memories with for the last five days.

 

Yes, Virginia Ava, there is a Santa Claus. And, he knows that you are in Colorado with your Pops and Gammy.

 

Does she look like her Daddy, or what ?

 

I'm not sure what your mommy is feeding you, but it appears to contain something that causes green horns to sprout from your head.

 

June Bug appointed herself Lucien's personal body guard.

 

But, she did allow us to take this photograph of Lucien and his mommy.

 

Ava and Daddy getting ready to go snowboarding in a blizzard.

 

Hot-Tubbing it in single-digit temps. Doesn't seem to bother them as they are enveloped with steam.

 

Ava had to take over as the foreman for the construction of the gingerbread house. There didn't seem to be anyone in the house who had the skills to frame it.

 

Wouldn't you love to know what Lucien is thinking right now ?
(Caption this photo.)

 

Mommy (MoMo) and Daddy. Remember, she's the one with THIS BLOG.

 

I promise, June Bug did NOT lick that nipple. She tried.

 

Sweet kisses for her little brother.

 

Christmas Dinner !

 

I wondered what that noise was...stereophonic snoring.

Holiday Greetings from Colorado

Here are a few photos from the area around Redstone, with wishes for you and yours to have a healthy, happy, and safe "hollyday" season and 2009.

         

As we say it at our place, "Merry Christmas" from Hans and Kathy aka: AnodeMan and Swampy.

Twelve Days of Christmas in New York City...

We weren't in New York City for twelve days. We were there for 96 hours. N.I.N.E.T.Y.S.I.X.H.O.U.R.S. !  And, the previous several posts document a few of our excursions.

Traveling with AnodeMan is an experience. One needs to strap on a jet propelled back pack because he doesn't waste any time when he is on a trip. Like the time we went to that place in San Diego with all the animals. It was 30 minutes before the gates closed when we purchased our tickets, then proceeded as fast as we could to the very back of the park.  That way we could see as much of the park and animals as possible while the workers were trying to get rid of all the guests. 

Just a few of the folks (pronounced fokes) queued up to cross the street.

 

Santa must have misplaced his sleigh and hijacked one of these bikes complete with the cart.

 

How many lights do you see ?

 

Here's a closer look.

 

Grandma got run over by a reindeer Zamboni.

 

As for me, I like 'white' lights !

 

Now that's one fancy chandelier.

 

If you look real closely, you can see me at the very top with a gorilla.

 

AnodeMan with our oldest grandson who is attending college in New York City.

 

The next Steven Spielberg...

 

The caption for this photo is below...

 

...Do Not Tailgate...  Yeah, right !

   

On December 7, we attended "South Pacific." Along with the rest of humanity. See anyone you recognize?

 

"He-e-e-r-r-r-r-s-s-s-s Johnny !"  Oh wait. Wrong show.

 

Anyone who has ever ridden in a New York City cab knows what this is all about !

Staten Island Ferry

A trip to New York City is just not complete without a ride on the Staten Island Ferry. Of course, we have more than one reason to ride the ferry. We have friends who live there, so unlike most tourists who ride the ferry over, exit, go through the turnstiles, get back on, and ride it back to Manhattan, we get off and spend a couple of nights on Staten Island.

 

Here we see the Statue of Liberty getting ready to be hoisted up...

 

...onto the top of one of the ferries.

 

Just kidding !

 

The skyline sihWHOwetted against a very gray, blustery-looking sky.

 

The Empire State Building nestled among some other very tall buildings...
...we didn't have these in southeastern Oklahoma where I grew up !

Off in the distance is the Brooklyn Bridge.

 

Zooming in on the Brooklyn Bridge...

 

Looking down on the piers as we dock...

 

Exiting into thirty-mile-an-hour-winds.

Know how Staten Island got its name?

An early explorer looked off into the distance while approaching this land mass and asked, "Isdatanisland?"

Have a wonderful holiday week !

World Trade Center

We were in New York City one week before September 11, 2001 and have visited almost every year since then. It is a tradition for us to visit the site of that terrible attack to pay our respects each time. No words are needed for these photographs.

 

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

Top of the Rock

I forget what day it was here in NYC, but that doesn't really matter because where we're going the oxygen is so thin no one cares.

YUP! We're headed to The Top of the Rock. Wish I could make your ears pop like mine did when we rode the elevator ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP ! If you want to experience the real thing, just hold your nose and blow.  There. That should do it.

AnodeMan and our Staten Island friends are silwhowetted with the Empire State Building in the background. I just love sihwhoettes. Mainly because most of my photographs turn out like this when the light isn't right because I don't know how to set my F-stop to remedy the situation.

 

 

We were very lucky because the skies ABOVE New York City were fairly clear this day.  Here is another photo looking south this direction.

I have no visual-spatial intelligence, so I don't have a clue what direction this is.

Besides, it's too cold to care.

I do know that now we're looking south and if you can see through the haze, Staten Island is off in the distance. Way off in the distance.

Have I mentioned it's very windy and cold at The Top of the Rock? If I haven't, it's very windy and cold at The Top of the Rock.

 

Remember the hotel that came complete with the bathroom scales that weren't even set on zero?

Well, it's down there somewhere.

So are the helicopters.  Yes, we are higher than the helicopters.

Now we're looking west that direction.

 

This is one of my favorite photographs from up here.

That's St. Patricks Cathedral.

See the cross ?

This is ground level looking up at St. Patrick's Cathedral.

This is inside St. Patrick's Cathedral. We were lucky enough to have entered when a choral group was performing. The acoustics in this cathedral are beyond words. I could have stayed the rest of the afternoon listening to these young voices.

This photograph shows just how high we are and also you can see the Hudson River in the distance.

 

OK, it's time to hold your nose and blow again because that's what happens on the elevator ride down.

Once outside, you just never know who you'll meet on the street.

I mean, those two characters could be any one of my blog buds at Rockefeller Center.

Tavern on the Green and Bathroom Scales

Continuing with my 12 Days of Christmas in New York City, (we were only there 96 hours) this experience just had to be shared.  At least I feel like it should be shared. But, as usual, this post must be prefaced with a brief history.

  I'm a person who gets on the bathroom scales every morning. Now, before you preach to me that most weight-watching programs instruct not to weigh everyday, I know that. But, I do it anyway. My reasoning: If my weight creeps up to five pounds more than what I've weighed for 15 years, I make a concerted effort to take it off.  Why?  Anyone who is over weight added it ONE pound at a time. It must be taken off ONE pound at a time. I just figure that it's easier to take off FIVE pounds than it is FIFTY pounds.

This time of year, my trips to the gym are far and few between; therefore, all those fruitcakes and cups of eggnog are more likely to attach themselves to my waist, tummy, and back-side because my physical activity consists of walking to and from the refrigerator.  Needless to say, when we have plans to have dinner at a nice restaurant with a menu that just reading it will cause a heart attack, those nagging little voices in my head are saying, "Do you know how much time on the treadmill it will take you to rid your system of all those calories?"

On this particular evening, one of those little voices in my head gave me permission to have some carbs (I love potatoes) and sugar (I love chocolate lava cake and ice cream), and just savor every calorie, fat gram, and carbohydrate. 

Thanks to one of my SILs, this is the eating life style I generally follow: 
A Week in the Zone by Barry Sears.  So having a basket of bread the size of Santa's sleigh and a plate-full of garlic smashed potatoes that would have choked Rudolph was a bit off my normal eating habits. 

How often does one have the opportunity to have dinner at Tavern on the Green?  So what if I waddled-out? I would just waddle in to the gym...next year.  

We were seated next to a table of kiddos, one of which was celebrating a birthday as evidenced by the helium balloons backdropped by a Swarovski candlelabra.  Is that an oxymoron or a paradox?  Whatever word describes it, a fun time was had by all.  Anyway, THEY were eating cake and ice cream, so why shouldn't I?

AnodeMan and I were lucky enough to have spent the evening with our Staten Island friends, Bill and Angela, who(m) I speak of especially on my September 11 posts.

Their family has heroes galore in it...sons who are promoted on a regular basis in the NYC police force...son-in-law and brother-in-law who are NYC firemen, and of course Bill, who is a retired policeman AND firefighter.

I knew I should have worn something with an elastic waist band, because the ride back to the hotel room was more than just uncomfortable. A constant reminder that after following the guide lines in "The Zone" for a period of time and then gorging myself on everything that is on the "DO NOT EAT LIST ever," will make one somewhat nauseated to the point of "I think I may vomit."  But it was good. Oh, so good. And it would be good tomorrow because I walked out of that place with a doggie-take-home-bag that weighed about 40 pounds. How could I ever be hungry again? Historically speaking, I knew I would. No matter how full my tummy was, it would growl with hunger pains a few hours later. (Is it hunger pains or pangs?)

  This pattern in one of their Tiffany lamps pretty much depicts what my indigestion was feeling like.  Swirling and turning and spinning and "Someone pass the Tums or the barf bag."

Why oh why did I eat that last spoonful of ice cream? Oh, I know. It wasn't a food item that would fair well in the doggie bag. 

Things began to look like this...
...and I began to promise all those little voices that I would NEVER stray so far from the guidelines in "The Zone" again.  Yeah, right. Just after I eat all the leftovers tomorrow.

All I can think of now is just get me to the hotel so I can cut these clothes off my body and breathe.

Driving in NYC is not like driving in GJ, so it did take quite some time before we checked into hotel room.

What was the first thing I saw upon entering that hotel room?  These...

   

Are you kidding me?  I have been in a lot of hotel rooms and N!E!V!E!R! has there been one that came equipped with bathroom scales !