Update: My Danish Neighbor

As I mentioned in this post last November, we have new neighbors and the new neighbors have a Great Dane.

The only thing that separates my backyard from the Great Dane's is an old white picket fence.  When she first arrived, the Great Dane would charge the fence whenever I went outside.  I was concerned the Great Dane would eventually break through the fence and maul me.

Well, the Great Dane has been my neighbor for just over two months now and things are worse than I could have imagined: the dog ignores me.

That's right.  The Great Dane ignores me.  When I go outside, my existence does not even register on her doggy radar.  It doesn't matter what I'm doing.  I could be training circus cats to jump through a hoop or constructing a tower from raw steaks.  The Great Dane would not even bother to look in my direction.

The dog thinks I'm boring.

I miss the good old days, when she barked frantically and charged towards the fence whenever I stepped outside.  Back then, we had rapport.  It wasn't a particularly harmonious rapport, but at least it was something. 

Now, I'm invisible.  Inconsequential.  When I got outside, I hopefully pause, hoping the Great Dane will at least give me the courtesy of a "woof."   I think I'm in the middle of a psychological war with a dog - and the dog is kicking my ass. 

Let's Talk About The Center Pivot

Have you ever looked out an airplane window and noticed circular fields of crops?  These fields result from center-pivot irrigation.

If you are from the Midwest, or have family in the Midwest, or studied agriculture at any point in your life, you can probably skip this blog entry.  Otherwise, I would like to introduce the center pivot:

Look at that monster!  It's the uber-lawn sprinkler.  If only I had one of these things when I was a summer camp counselor.  In the top photograph, you are looking at the front of the center pivot.  The far end stays in place and supplies water to the rest of the system.  The front and middle sections move on wheels; and as the wheels move, the enter contraption pivots in a big slow circle and shoots out water, thereby irrigating a circlular field of crops.  

Any questions?  Well, don't ask me - I'm not an irrigation expert.  But I still think the center pivot is pretty cool. 

My Perpetual Journal

Last year, I made a "perpetual journal."  Every day of the year has its own index card.  For the first year, it's basically a regular journal.  (Except instead of an attractive notebook, you have an unwieldy stack of notecards).  But after the first year, it's M-A-G-I-C.  At the end of the day, you don't just write your journal entry - you also read the entries for prior years.  It's fun to see how similar and dissimilar the entries can be. 

For example, my entry for July 23, 2011 is: "We got married!!! And had a WONDERFUL wedding!"  My entry for July 23, 2012 will obviously be a little different (as fun as our wedding was, we're not about to make it an annual tradition). 

I followed this excellent tutorial on Design*Sponge to make my journal.  My journal is not very pretty, but it gets the job done:

Someday I'll get a proper box for my journal; and if I'm feeling super ambitious, I'll make dividers for each month.  But for now, the point is just taking a moment every night to jot down one or two highlights from the day. 

Confession: sometimes, I slack with my perpetual journal.  Four or five days pass and I realize, "Crap!  My journal!"  But I managed to write an entry for every day in 2011.   And I'm so glad I did because I love flipping through the index cards and glancing at random entries.

For example, here's a fun memory that I had completely forgotten from January 4, 2011: "I heard Bob Newhart's piece on XM about baseball, and then played it for Nathan on YouTube."  There's no way I would recall a detail like this on my own.

Poor February 29th!  It's still waiting for an entry.  Don't worry, February 29: 2012 is your date with destiny.  (And then we'll see you again in 2016). 

I love my perpetual journal and if you have ever flirted with the idea of keeping a diary, I highly recommend this method.  You can make it while watching a movie, and then it only takes seconds to scrawl an entry at the end of the day. 

p.s. You can even make the calendar as you go.  Who says you have to stamp all the dates in advance?  And who says you even have to stamp the dates at all?  The perpetual calendar will work just as well if you just handwrite the date yourself.

The Rose Parade Floats, Part Two

This house made from flowers makes me inexplicably happy.

p.s. I can't even begin to draw a house that looks this good.  My

drawing skills reached their peak in second grade.

Check out the detail on the lamb. 

For my next car, I want a trolley made from flowers.

How do the flowers look so fresh for so long?  These

flowers look better than the living flowers in my garden.

Elephants for my mother-in-law.

Heart be still: a float with a diagram of the Metamorphosis Cycle. 

A painting of a flower made from ... flowers.

This float is an ad for a Power Rangers video game.On the one hand,

it's a Power Rangers float, so I must hate it.  On the other hand, it's

an enormous robot made from flowers - and so I love it.

I emailed this photo to my Trekkie husband, who

was at work.  His response is too nerdy to reprint. 

This is the float for the Rose Parade Queen and her court.  I

think the Queen and her attendees should sit on the float during the

post-parade viewing.  C'mon, show some commitment to your craft.

Check out the glass of lemonade!  With ice cubes!  Awesome!

BIG crowds, and everyone is trying to pose with the floats. I

tried to respect the cameras but still ruined at least 50 portraits.

The End.

Skip the Parade; Admire the Floats

I like all of the elements of the parade, especially the bands and floats, but the whole parade experience sucks.  You have to arrive early if you want a good view; but no matter how early you arrive, someone will block your view.  Vendors are selling vuvuzelas, aka the devil's favorite musical instrument, so you get to spend the entire day listening to the sounds of a dying elephant.  And if you have to go to the bathroom, may God have mercy on your soul.

Wouldn't it make much more sense for the parade to just stay in one place for a few hours?  Then, you could see and listen to everything at your own pace, just like at a museum.   

After the Rose Parade, the floats are displayed for 1.5 days at the end of the parade route.  It's like an outdoor museum, and it eliminates the evils of actually attending the Rose Parade.  I walked over this morning and discovered that if you subtract the vuvuzelas, I actually love the Rose Parade floats.  

I love dinosaurs, so this is my favorite float.  End of discussion.

I was a Girl Scout, and the Girl Scout float makes
 me want to earn another merit badge.

 Volunteers wearing white suits and red ties guard the floats.  I know

what you are thinking and I agree: I need to dress like this every day.

My internet connection is acting like it's 1997, so I'll post more photos later.  

Scenes from Nebraska, the December 2011 Edition

Five years ago, I did not give much thought to the Midwest and rural America.  I knew the West Coast well because I have lived almost my entire life in Los Angeles.  I knew the East Coast well because my mother is from New York and I went to college in New England.  But the Midwest?  That was just a big chunk of land in between LAX and JFK.  From the airplane, it looked pretty boring.  

Five years ago, if you had asked me if I would ever visit Nebraska, I would have shrugged.  And if you had asked me whether I would visit rural Nebraska during the dead of winter, I would have laughed hysterically.  

Then I met my husband, who grew up in a town of 1,600 in rural Nebraska, and now I have visited his home state four times - including three December trips!

Every December, Nebraska looks different.  In 2009, there was a blizzard and snow.  It was like we had stepped into the movie Fargo.  In 2010, there was less snow but the landscape still looked like a Christmas card.   

For Christmas 2011, I was prepared for Artic temperatures... and then my gloves, scarf and hat spent the entire trip in the rental car.  During the day, the temperatures were in the 50s and I just needed a sweatshirt to stay warm.  Almost all the snow had melted.  Let me tell you about the un-snowy Nebraska countryside: it's beautiful and the roads are safe.  From now on, I'm dreaming of a brown Christmas.  


Random Countryside View as we drove through Nebraska.



More Random Countryside while driving.

Sunset at the family ranch.

  

Farm cats at the family ranch.

 

Sign for a steakhouse where we had dinner.

Snow!

I was told we could have breakfast here - or the gas station.

Ah, The Rose Parade

My neighborhood is under siege.  The Rose Parade route passes within a block of my house, so my neighborhood is a parking lot for the parade.  The situation is pretty bleak.  For example, I hope the owner of this car is not planning to leave the parade early:   

I walked over and watched the parade for about three minutes - and those are three minutes of my life that I will never get back.   

As a Pasadena resident who can hear the Rose Parade from her living room, I feel like I am morally obligated to love the pageantry.  But I must be missing a Parade Lovers Gene, because I just can't get excited about a a rocket ship made from daffodils.  Sorry, Pasadena - I love you, but your parade is pretty lame.