It's 5 o'clock somewhere

I'm sipping a chai, watching the snow fly this morning. I was planning for today to be a day of rest and recovery after yesterday's 5k (it really was a big deal for me). But despite the snow and slippery roads, we're supposed to drive to the S.O.'s mother's house for a belated Thanksgiving dinner. Which means today is going to be more stress than rest.

Maybe I should be drinking Irish coffees to prepare myself for the drive and the dinner.

Or maybe I should just follow the dog's lead and go back to bed.

Slow and steady wins the race

While I didn't technically win the race, I did finish my first official 5k -- and I ran the entire thing. My finishing time was 32.24, which was two minutes behind the fastest woman runner. I'm pretty proud of myself for reaching this goal.
The day started out overcast and chilly, with the temperatures in the high 20s when we began the race at the Fountain Creek Nature Center. The sun peeked out for a few minutes, and once I was moving, the chill disappeared.

A group of about two dozen people gathered to run and walk to benefit our local nature centers. A recently failed tax hike means the nature centers won't get funding from the county, so they can use all the monetary help they can get. The nature centers offer great programs for kids and adults alike, teaching us about our local flora and fauna and providing a beautiful natural setting for picnics, hikes and runs.

I started out at the very back of the runners but well ahead of the walkers. I managed to pass a man and his son and a couple so I wasn't the last runner to finish. I came away with a nature center T-shirt and a pair of running socks, not to mention the sense of accomplishment I feel right now.All in all, it was a very good day.

White Friday

The day after Thanksgiving has come to be known as "Black Friday." I've never been one to get up and chase the sales. I've either had to work or if I had the day off, slept in. Some of those sales start as early as 5 a.m. There isn't much that will get me up that early, especially on a cold, dreary day. This part of Colorado doesn't normally have white Christmases, but this year we got a white Thanksgiving -- sort of. It started snowing yesterday evening, and this morning, we have a nice little mantel of white.

Of course, not everyone thinks the snow is great.

10 things I'm thankful for today

I am thankful:
For a roof over my head
For my family and their health
For space heaters and warm pajamas
For friends who read blogs (and those who don't)
For good coffee and sweet potato pie
That I don't have to drive anywhere today

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thirsty

I missed out on the beginning of National Blog Posting Month for November but have posted every day since I found out about it. Today, I'm having a hard time coming up with something to write about.

So, instead of writing something less than profound, I'll share a picture. Because who doesn't love a picture of a cat drinking from the bathroom faucet?Ok, probably lots of people. But I know there are plenty who do love it, as evidenced by sites like this and all the cat-drinking-from-the-sink-related videos on YouTube.

What I read: "The Grapes of Wrath" by John Steinbeck

I know I had to have read "The Grapes of Wrath" at some point in high school, but all I could remember about it was the daughter named Rose of Sharon and the fact that the Joads had to leave Oklahoma. I must have read the book at a point in my life when I thought times would never be tough, or perhaps I really just disliked my teacher at the time and projected that onto this book. Whatever the reason, I didn't remember much about this book, and that's a shame.

I can't believe I didn't remember Steinbeck's poetic prose:

In the middle of that night the wind passed on and left the land quiet. The dust-filled air muffled sound more completely than fog does. The people, lying in their beds, heard the wind stop. They awakened when the rushing wind was gone. They lay quietly and listened deep into the stillness. Then the roosters crowed, and their voices were muffled, and the people stirred restlessly in their beds and wanted the morning. They knew it would take a long time for the dust to settle out of the air. In the morning the dust hung like fog, and the sun was as red as ripe new blood. All day the dust sifted down from the sky, and the next day it sifted down. An even blanket covered the earth. It settled on the corn, piled up on the tops of the fence posts, piled up on the wires; it settled on roofs, blanketed the weeds and trees.

Or the strength and courage of a family plagued by misfortune and tragedy:

Ma looked down at her hands, lying together like tired lovers in her lap. "I wisht i could wait an' not tell you. I wisht it could be all--nice."
Pa said, "Then Granma's bad."
Ma raised her eyes and looked over the valley. "Granma's dead."
They looked at her, all of them, and Pa asked, "When?"
"Before they stopped us las' night."
"So that's why you didn' want 'em to look."
"I was afraid we wouldn' get acrost," she said. "I tol' Granma we couldn' he'p her. The fambly had ta get acrost. I tol' her, tol' her when she was a-dyin'. We couldn' stop in the desert. there was the young ones--an' Rosasharn's baby. I tol' her." She put up her hands and covered her face for a moment. "She can get buried in a nice green place," Ma said softly. "Trees aroun' an' a nice place. She got to lay her head down in California."
The family looked at Ma with a little terror at her strength.

I feel like I just read this book for the first time. It got under my skin. I dreamed about it. I thought about how we would handle such desperate times. Despite today's economic climate, it's hard to imagine having to live the way the Joads did -- 14 people traveling in a truck made by cutting away the back of a sedan, sleeping under a tarp, eating little more than fried bread and black coffee. It often occurred to me the reason this book was so sharply opposed when it was first published.

A kind of insurance developed in these nights. A man with food fed a hungry man, and thus insured himself against hunger. And when a baby died a pile of silver coins grew at a door flap, for a baby must be well buried, since it has had nothing else of life.

Talk of unions and strikes and even a kind of socialism, disguised as helping those less fortunate must have scared the haves and stirred the have-nots.

The great companies did not know that the line between hunder and anger is a thin line. and money that might have gone to wages went for gas, for guns, for agents and spies, for blacklists, for drilling. On the highways the people moved like ants and searched for work, for food. and the anger began to forment.

Above all "The Grapes of Wrath" is beautifully written and worth reading or re-reading.

It was featured in this year's All Pikes Peak Reads, but I was late in reading it and getting in on discussions. I see it as a timely selection.

More photos

Views from the Piedra River Trail near Pagosa Springs

Sandy

We hiked in Great Sand Dunes National Park. My photographs don't do it justice. It's incredibly stark and beautiful. We'd like to go back in the spring when the water is flowing and the plants are lush. Hiking up sand is hard work but a lot of fun. A great ending to a great weekend.

Steamy

This is the Springs Resort in Pagosa Springs. The hot mineral springs are toasty and the rooms are comfy and quiet. My significant other gets brownie points for creating this romantic weekend getaway.

I plan to put up more pictures from the weekend in the next few days.

Piedra River Trail

We took a trip to Pagosa Springs. This picture is from our hike along the Piedra River Trail. After this, we soaked in the hot springs and had a tasty mocha latte at a cafe and gallery owned by a really nice couple.

UPDATE: If you're in Pagosa Springs, make sure you stop by The Quaking Aspen for some organic foods and some cool photography.

Frosty

It may look like a dangerous thorny plant but it's just the balusters on our deck, covered in a wicked frost.

How does anyone ever learn to read this language?

As I've mentioned before, I work with the Children's Literacy Center, tutoring and acting as a site coordinator. It's fulfilling helping the kids, and they really enjoy it.

What I don't understand is how the heck anyone ever learns to read the English language. There are no hard and fast rules. Really. There's "i before e, except after c or when it sound like a, as in neighbor and weigh." But what about height and weird? And one the kids taught me: "When two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking -- like in ceiling or quiet. Oops. Guess that one doesn't follow the rules either. (Hey! There's another one right there.) When a kid is struggling with a word, you can't always tell him to sound it out. Think about sounding out the word "phone" or "one." Then you see words with "gh" in them, like "through" (makes the "oo" sound), "though" (makes the long "o" sound) and "cough" (makes an "awf" sound) and things just spiral into insanity.

Luckily kids are really smart and really resilient, so they take this in stride. They trust us when we tell them that's just how it is. They work hard to remember the rules and don't get too frustrated by the "naughty words" that don't follow the rules -- or any rule at all. Seriously, look at "two." What kind of word is that?

Here's an interesting factoid for you today:

Studies have shown the relationship between language development in early childhood and later success in reading. Parents and other family members have great influence on a child’s development of language and other pre-literacy skills.

No pain, no gain

We've all heard the slogan no pain, no gain. I always subscribed to the idea of no pain, no pain. I worked out. I just never believed I had to hurt in order to be in shape. When I did wind up with sore muscles, I knew not to push myself quite so hard next time. I think it worked for me. Granted I've never really been buff, but I'd like to think I look OK.

But now, I've gone and done it. In taking up running, I have caused myself pain in the name of fitness. I know there's a difference between muscle pain and joint pain. I've experienced both. I know to stretch and work through the achy muscles and to rest and rehab achy joints. But this latest pain is worse than achy muscles or sore joints, and it's not something I can really work through.

I have a blister on the arch of my foot! I didn't realize my sock had bunched up there. And I must have been in the zone, because I didn't feel it until walking around later. And I could sure feel it today when I ran. I'm not going to let it stop me. If Tiger Woods could win the U.S. Open with a broken leg, surely I can run with a little blister. I mean, sure, he had to play one of the toughest games of his life, and I just have to get through a non-competitive 5k. But, yeah, they're comparable.

Four books I want to read by the end of the year

I know I'm being overly optimistic thinking I can get through these. But I'm going to give it a shot.

1. "The Grapes of Wrath" by John Steinbeck
I'm halfway through this one, but it goes on the list because I have to finish it.
2. "Dreams From My Father" by Barack Obama
I want to know more about our next president.
3. "The Audacity of Hope" by Barack Obama
Ok, I want to know a lot more. And I got a discount at Amazon.com for ordering them together.
4. "The Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Polan
I started this but haven't finished it. It's not much fun. But I feel it's "important" to read. This is the one book I'm not sure I'll get through. But I'll give it another shot because it comes highly recommended by two different friends.

I can get through these books if I sit down and read, rather than let myself get distracted by what's on TV or some stupid computer game. I do have other things I have to get done (besides TV and computer games) so unfortunately, I can't just sit and read all day. I would if I could.

Always preparing

I've thought of a side benefit to training for a 5k run: When the zombie apocalypse comes, I'll have the stamina to outrun them* -- or at least I'll be able to outrun all the people who don't work out, giving me time to get away.





*Of course, if they're the fast-moving variety, I'm still totally screwed.

Did you ever notice

Did you ever notice when manufacturers try to market something that's traditionally male-oriented -- sporting goods, tools -- to women, they often don't change much except the color? You want a set of household tools in one handy case? Well, because you're a woman, here's a pink one! You want a set of golf clubs. Hmm, you're a woman. You must want them in pink! Not pink? Ok, here's some in pastel blue! Oh, you don't want pastel colors either? Hmmm. Oh, here we go, here's a set in beige ... with flowers on them! They're even making football jerseys in pink. Huh. I thought the Denver Broncos colors were orange and blue, but here's a women's version in pink.

I get the Pink Ribbon items, although I don't think everything has to actually be pink in order to get the word out about breast cancer awareness. But I'm not addressing the items that are pink for a cause. I'm talking about things that are pink (or flowered or pastel) just to try to appeal to women.

Maybe it's because I've always been a bit of a tomboy. Maybe it's because I have three older brothers who I always felt a need to compete with. Maybe it's because I grew up watching ERA demonstrations and hearing about Title IX. (Shut up. I know I'm old.) Or maybe I just don't like the color pink. It's probably all of those things but I don't understand trying to make these things more girly.

On the other hand, if the item is made with the same quality as the men's version, but sized to fit a woman, I'm all for that.

Movie night!

10 Reasons Movie Night is better at home:

1. No driving required.
2. Parking is better.
3. The snacks are cheaper.
4. You can have healthy snacks if you really want them.
5. You can wear pajamas.
6. You can snuggle under a blanket.
7. You can pause the movie if you have to go pee.
8. No one talks on a cell phone during a pivotal scene.
9. If you fall asleep, you can rewind the movie.
10. No one kicks the back of your seat.

Change of plans

Looking through a two-day old newspaper this morning, I came across a brief about a 5k run to benefit the El Paso County nature centers. The LiveWell 5k takes place the Saturday after Thanksgiving instead of Thanksgiving Day. So while it's not technically a "turkey trot," the Fountain Creek and Bear Creek Nature Centers are awesome and are struggling for funding. And I think it's close enough to the day that I'll still need to burn off calories from the leftovers. The entry fee is the same, so I've made the decision to run this 5k instead of the YMCA 5k.

Now, I have to convince myself that it's time to bundle up and get outside for my run this morning. Brrrr.

Update: I managed to motivate myself to get outside and run for 20 minutes. I'm glad for the new running pants I bought to help keep me warm.

Tales of the unexplained

My favorite TV show is "Ghost Hunters" on the Sci Fi channel. In case you don't know what "Ghost Hunters" is (first of all, stop reading now, click that link above, go get the earlier season DVDs and watch some episodes. I'll wait.) it's about a real-life group of paranormal investigators and it's creepy and fun. I wouldn't call it a reality show. While it focuses on real people, there's no conniving or backstabbing and the drama is usually provided by things going bump in the night -- or disembodied voices saying, "You don't belong here."

Having watched the show for a couple years now, I have convinced myself that I could deal with something paranormal if it should occur. I think I could look at a strange happening and decide if there's a scientific explanation or not. And if there wasn't a reasonable explanation and I believed it to be paranormal, I think I could be rational in dealing with whatever's there.

With that said, I had a strange occurrence in my home last night. I'm 90 percent sure it wasn't paranormal but I've yet to figure out what happened. It was scary in a way that a ghost could never be.

We have a smoke alarm/carbon monoxide detector outside our bedroom. It's a newfangled one that actually says, "Fire. Fire." or "Carbon Monoxide."About 3:45 this morning our smoke alarm sounded. "Fire. Fire," said the monotone alarm. But the voice along with the shrieking of the alarm got us out of bed pretty quickly. The dog ran and jumped into my arms, shaking. Before we really got our senses together to start our escape, the alarm stopped.

Because the Significant Other was already out in the hallway by this time, I got it in my sleep-addled mind that he had turned off the alarm -- he hadn't. We moved from room to room -- the dog still in my arms -- looking for anything that might be smoldering. It's been cold, so we've had electric heaters plugged in. But they were off and safe. The furnace actually kicked on after the alarm stopped so it wasn't the cause. The stove was off. No smoking appliances or electronic equipment. No explanation.

The alarms are linked together, so maybe when one has a low battery, rather that chirping (and making the dog crazy) like the old ones did, these go off. Seems like a silly design to me. We have to find the manuals and see what it says about low batteries.

The only other explanation I can come up with is we now have a ghost -- even though we never had one before -- and he likes to play with smoke alarms ... at 3:45 in the morning ... when it's freezing ... and windy ... and snowing. I think I'll do a little more investigating on my own before I call in TAPS.

Encouragement

Yesterday I worried I would never be ready to run a 5k on Thanksgiving. But I received words of encouragement, and today I got up and ran. It was only about 1.5 miles, but it was all outside, with inclines and obstacles (pick up your dog's poop, people!) and the brisk autumn air. I reached the goal I set for myself today and will try to run farther -- and faster -- next time.

The biggest downside to running outside, especially in the morning, are the exhaust fumes from the cars and trucks passing. It makes me wonder if it really isn't healthier to just run at the gym, even if running on a treadmill gets boring pretty quickly. I'm going to have to find a place to run where I won't be breathing exhaust fumes -- either a good running trail or just less traveled roads. Although with winter just around the corner, running on the treadmill may have to be the way to go for a while.

I'm feeling pretty good about the running. I've always exercised, but it's easy to get burned out. I'm not really into Spinning (the instructors for those classes have to be sadists!) or the class setting in general. I guess I'm just too independent to enjoy them. Running fits with the kind of exerciser I am. I just have to get better at it. Now that I've written about it, I have to stick with it.

What was I thinking

One day at the gym, I saw a story on the news about running in a Turkey Trot. Because the sound is always turned down on the TVs at the gym, all I saw were smiling people bundled up, pushing strollers, holding dog leashes, having a great time. I thought to myself I should do a Turkey Trot this Thanksgiving. These 5k runs are designed to get you moving and burn some calories before you stuff yourself on stuffing, as well as bring in some money for a good cause (locally, it's the YMCA). "What a great idea," I thought at the time. I could run this race, then not feel guilty about pigging out later.

Instead of doing a search for information on a 5k run, I asked the Significant Other how many miles are in 5k. His answer: 2.5 miles give or take. So I've been hopping on the treadmill at the gym, slogging through 2.5 miles at about 5.2 miles per hour (I'm not much of a runner) and starting to feel like I could make it. Until today, that is. Today, I decided to look up some information about training for my first ever 5k.

I found this at About.com:

"Running a 5K is an excellent goal for new runners. You'll get lots of motivation, as well as enjoyment, from participating in a race, and 5K (3.1 miles) is the perfect distance for first-timers."

You probably already knew this, but in case, like me (and apparently my S.O.), you were never good with the Metric system, 5 kilometers is equivalent to 3.1 miles. I need to run .6 miles farther than I have been. I know it doesn't seem like much -- and it probably really isn't -- but I know running on a treadmill is easier than running on the street. And I'm just starting to feel like I could run this on a treadmill. While, I work out on a regular basis, easily completing 2 or 3 miles on the elliptical machine or the stair stepper, running has always been a whole other ballgame to me.

If I really want to complete the 5k on Thanksgiving (and I do), I'm going to have to step it up a notch. I have just over two weeks to feel comfortable running 3.1 miles. I have to keep telling myself I can do it.

I would blog more ...

if there were more room on my chair.





I know he's thinking, "Why is she crowding me? And what's with the pictures?"

So's your face

There was an episode of "Scrubs" where J.D. tried to sting people with the comeback "So's your face." He used in all situations, even when it didn't make sense, replying, "'So's your face' always makes sense."

I had a "so's your face" moment yesterday when a stranger commented on one of my old entries about my new car. The comment: "Good for people to know." Maybe I misinterpreted the snarkiness of this comment, but coming from some random faceless person, I don't think I did.

I started this blog to keep in touch with friends and family and to be able to ramble about stuff I care about. Maybe the things I write wouldn't be all that interesting to the general public, but it's my blog. I'm not writing about this stuff in the comments section of other people's blogs, especially not on entries that are more than a year and a half old. And because it's my blog, I can reject these comments. I considered for a moment accepting the comment so I could zing the commenter with something witty, you know, like "so's your face."

Instead, I like to think I took the high road.

Drying up

It seems my one regular freelance writing gig may be drying up soon. While it wasn't exactly a gravy train, it was easy money. I didn't have to go out of my way to track down leads -- they were handed to me. And I knew I'd have at least two or three assignments a month. Now, my good friends and associates are being outsourced, and while I'm told the outsourcing company wants to use the same freelancers, I've yet to hear from anyone. So I'm not holding my breath.

I have a part-time job now but I was hoping it would supplement my freelance money, not be the only source of income I contribute to the household. The significant other keeps me supplied with Chai and paperbacks, but I don't like the idea of being so dependent on someone. My part-time work gives me enough to make my car payment, buy gas and pay for my gym membership, so we do ok. But I have always wanted to be a writer. Always. In third grade I entered (and was a finalist in) the Young Authors Contest with a story called "A Visit From A Leprachaun."

It contained such literary nuggets as:

"Then I saw the leprachaun doing cartwheels up the side of the rainbow. When I saw him doing that, I gasped in excitement.

'Hurry up or I'll have to go to someone else!' he yelled.

When I got to the top, I slid down the other side and landed in a giant pot of gold.

'I've never seen so much gold in my whole life! I'm rich. I'm rich! I'm rich!' I exclaimed."

As you can see, it was genius. And it started me down a path of writing. My biggest problem is I don't like to go out an hunt down the assignments. Face it, I'm lazy. So I have to either start writing that novel that every writer always plans to write, get on the ball and find some writing gigs or give up the dream.

Inspired by Heather, I'm going to try to write on my blog more. I figure almost as many people read this as read my test drives. So what have I got to lose?

Election news burnout

For a while now I've been kind of obsessed with election news. And while I voted early, it ain't over till it's over. So I'm checking the news sites, watching the Daily Show, even reading the local newspaper, trying to see what will happen next. I know I'll be watching the election coverage Tuesday night, anxious about the outcome. But today, with two days left, I've hit a wall. I don't think I can read at any more campaign news, look at any more pictures of the candidates and their spouses or watch any more interviews or clips from SNL with the candidates or their lookalikes.

If you haven't voted, be sure to get out Tuesday and cast your ballot. If you know someone who might need help getting to the polls, offer a ride. Now, I have to stop thinking about the election for a couple of days. With that in mind, check out this slide show from The Huffington Post of Cute Zoo Animals Eating Birthday Cake.

It might help you take your mind off the election. It helped me.

Hippos! Yay!

Ripley's busy morning

After a hearty breakfast, I set to work dismantling a Puffs box Dad tried to put on my head as a Halloween costume. Mom made me pose for pictures with the dismantled box.

















Then it was time for a nap in the sunbeam. I'm not really supposed to be on the bed, but sometimes Mom and Dad are pretty lenient.


















A loud noise caught my attention. From this vantage point, I can see right out the window to where the garbage men are picking up the neighbor's trash.

Grrrr. Garbage men. Grrrr.
















Ooh look at the big truck.

Exercising my right

Passed in 1920, the Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution guarantees women the right to vote.

Early voting is open in Colorado, and I've exercised my right and cast my vote.

Now, whatever happens, I've earned my right to bitch about the outcome.

Gainfully employed (part-time anyway)

Back in June, I began volunteering as a tutor for the Children's Literacy Center. As of two weeks ago, I began working for the Children's Literacy Center as a site coordinator. I had been tutoring for a few months and thought it wouldn't be too difficult to take over the job. It's been a bit of a rough transition as the person who left had been stretched too thin, trying to cover two places at the same time. I think trying to be in two places at once defies some kind of law of physics, but I never did well in science.

When I started they rearranged the schedules so I don't have to break that law and can focus on each site individually. I also have to switch up some students as the program is designed for kids who are at the youngest in the second semester of 1st grade. So, this little part-time gig has been all-consuming -- at least mentally and emotionally. I've even dreamed about it. I want it to run smoothly and I want everyone -- tutors, students, myself -- to get the most out of the experience. I think it's a really important program.

As a total bookworm since I learned to read, I just can't imagine not having the ability to read, let alone enjoy the escape of a really good book. I hope that once I get organized, it will all run a lot more smoothly. The kids are great and the tutors are the best. I just need to pull it all together.

You are my sunshine

Chilly days call for naps in the sunshine.






















It's better when there's no one around to disturb the nap by taking pictures.






















A fluffy down comforter makes a nice place to nap, too, even without the sunbeam.

Road trip

Last Friday, the significant other and I took a road trip to Mueller State Park, just west of Divide. We wanted to take in some of Colorado's fall colors. It was a perfect day for a hike. There were some clouds slowly rolling in and a slight breeze, but there was also enough sunshine to keep us warm.

We decided to spring for the annual state parks pass, hoping that will get us out more. It's $60 and good at all of the state parks for 12 months.

We picnicked from our tailgate at the Elk Meadows trailhead before heading out for a two-hour hike.

The Elk Meadows trail is mostly along the edge of the forest, overlooking the meadows. But it has plenty of pretty views and lots of aspen. If not for the blister the significant other developed and the clouds becoming more ominous, we probably would have stayed out longer.


We hope to go back and explore a lot more of the trails, as well as taking in the views at some of Colorado's other state parks.

The changing seasons

This is the tree in our front yard. I don't think it's quite ready commit completely to autumn.

Blind hope

When I first saw the trailer for the movie "Blindness" I got goosebumps. I loved this book when I read it way back when, right after it won the Nobel Prize for Fiction. But then I remembered what Hollywood did to other books I loved. "All The Pretty Horses" was the worst. The movie practically ruined the book for me. Luckily, I was able to put the movie out of my mind. (I just pretend it never happened.)

Written by Jose Saramago, it was translated from Portuguese. Even though the hardbound copy is only 293 pages long, the book took me a long time to get through. Saramago can be difficult to read. He doesn't signify dialogue with quotation marks, and punctuation is sort of random, so everything kind of flows together. But even now, just rifling through the pages of my copy, I'm drawn to read passages again.

"What are you thinking of, asked the girl with dark glasses, worried when she heard the snipping of the scissors cutting off her hair, If your parents were to return, they would find hanging from the door handle a lock of hair, who else could it possibly belong to but their daughter, asked the doctor's wife, You make me want to weep, said the girl with the dark glasses, and she had no sooner said it, than she lowered her head over the folded arms on her knees and gave in to her sorrows, her sadness, to the emotions aroused by the suggestion made by the doctor's wife, then she noticed, without knowing by what emotional route she had arrived there, that she was also crying for the old woman on the first floor, the eater of raw meat, the horrible witch, who with her dead hand had restored to her the keys to the flat."

Because of the difficulty of the material, and because it's so good, I really worry what Hollywood is going to do with this story. The book isn't a horror story in that it isn't about ghosts or monsters, but it is terrifying, like any apocalyptic book, in its study of human nature. In the trailer, it looks like the movie makers captured the starkness and desperation of the book. I only hope they can keep that desperation as quiet and meaningful as Saramago did.

The trailer looks good. You can watch it here.

I will see the movie. I will try not to get my hopes up. Oh, too late.

It sucks to be me

What I watched -- Live theater version: "Avenue Q" at the Ellie Caulkins Opera House, Denver

The lights come up on an urban street scene. Row houses line the street. It's all a bit like "Sesame Street." Puppets and live actors mingle. Characters have names like Kate Monster, Brian, Trekkie Monster, Christmas Eve, Gary Coleman and Lucy the Slut. Yeah, this is not your kindergartner's puppet show. While it's like "Sesame Street" with puppets, songs and important lessons, the puppets of "Avenue Q" drop the F-bomb, have carnal relationships and sing songs to teach us "It Sucks to Be Me," "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist" and "The Internet Is For Porn."

At various times, two adorable bears show up to help our characters make decisions. They are the bad idea bears. They offer essential advice like, "Take her home. She's wasted. Yaaay!" and "Why buy a six-pack if you can save money buying bulk? Yaaaaaaaaaaay!"

And while it has puppets, it's definitely not for the kiddies. To my dismay, as usually happens with things that are inappropriate for children, people brought their pre-teens. I imagine they had some interesting conversations later that evening explaining the puppet sex.

"Avenue Q" is irreverent, funny and probably offensive to a lot of people. So, of course, I thoroughly enjoyed it. You can see and hear some clips on the official Web site. But you really have to see the entire show to fully appreciate it. It's playing in Denver now through Sept. 21.

What I heard

Listening recently to a podcast of This American Life, I heard Shalom Auslander say something I wish I'd said myself. I didn't write it down at the time so I can only paraphrase:

I don't like people. That's why I don't understand racism. When there's so much to dislike about a person, why choose the color of his skin to focus on?

As I said, it's not a direct quote (but pretty darn close), but it sums up how I feel about racism. It's hard not to prejudge people based on how they dress or look, it's human nature. If we take a minute to get to know someone, we probably find our initial judgment may have been wrong. Sometimes the person who was dressed nicely wasn't all that nice and the person who looked a bit of a bum turned out to be a sweetheart.

As I've said -- much less eloquently than Auslander -- assholes come in all colors.

Landscaping

There comes a time in our lives when we must admit we're not good at everything and some DIY projects are better left undone. Professional landscapers exist for a reason. They have the manpower, the know-how and -- let's face it -- the gumption to get the job done.

I'll readily admit that yard work is not my thing. While I love spending time outdoors, I want that time to be spent sipping a cold drink and watching the clouds roll by. Sticking my hands in the dirt, pulling weeds, digging, raking are just not my cup of tea. I always seem to end up with a rash on my arms and a sunburn on my shoulders. So, when the work needed to be done, we called in the professionals.

They ripped up dead sod and shrubs. They weeded and put down new mulch and rock. And they finished the work in a fraction of the time it would have taken me and the significant other to do it. We spent one whole day just doing a tiny little area -- that the professionals ended up redoing because the weeds had come back with a vengeance. They did almost the entire backyard in less than a day. We didn't have them add any new plants because we haven't decided what to put in yet. But with the weeds pulled and the dead grass gone, the yard looks 100 percent better than it did just two days ago.

I've learned a few things from this experience. Always use landscape cloth, professionals will do a better (and faster) job than I could ever hope to do, and my dog suddenly becomes shy about doing her business if there are strangers in her backyard.

What I read: "Independence Day" by Richard Ford

Richard Ford's "Independence Day" won the 1996 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. It reminded me a lot of John Updike's "Rabbit Is Rich," without the loathsome characters. (Updike won the Pulitzer in 1982 for that book and again in 1991 for "Rabbit At Rest.") The book tells the story of Frank Bascombe's Independence Day weekend. Bascombe, once a short story and sports writer, is now a real estate agent. Divorced and living in what he calls his "existence period," Bascombe goes through the motions of showing houses to a difficult couple, deciding whether or not to end a lukewarm relationship and trying to get to the heart of the matter with his troubled teenage son.

Both books tell a story of the Everyman and a slice of his life. Angstrom is a car salesman. Bascombe is a real estate agent. Both have troubled sons. Angstrom has a seemingly troubled marriage, while Bascombe marriage is over. While Bascombe bears a resemblance to "Rabbit" Angstrom, he's more self-aware and likable. That might also come from "Independence Day" being written in the first person.

The books share a certain tone of despair and hope. The characters seem to despair when things look most hopeful and are most hopeful when all seems lost. But, while I struggled to get through "Rabbit is Rich" or even care about one character in the book, I relished "Independence Day" and found myself hoping for the best for everyone.

It's not an exciting book. You won't find car chases or shoot outs. Although, there is a tense scene involving a batting cage. It's a fairly quiet book, with vivid descriptions of New Jersey towns and the countryside. I finished reading the book last week, and although it has stuck with me, I found I didn't have much to say about it. I suppose that can be said about my own life at times.

Accomplishment

Two years ago, we decided to redo our deck. We thought we could just replace the flooring. But when we pulled up the wood, we found extensive dry rot. Which means the home's builder (who I won't name, but is known for its *classic* home style) didn't bother to use pressure-treated wood to build an outdoor structure. The project came to a screeching halt. Later, some friends helped us take out the old wood and replace the frame and floorboards. We used composite on the flooring.

Time passed while we tried to decide what to do for rails and balusters -- and passed and passed. Two years later, we decided to use wood rails and aluminum balusters, along with copper post caps and solar post cap lights. It took two grueling, sun-baked, god-awful-hot weekends, but we finally completed our deck. And added a couple of brightly colored wood Adirondack chairs and side table for kicking back and enjoying an iced tea or beer.

I've never been much of a do-it-yourselfer. I'm not exactly handy with tools -- especially power tools. But it feels pretty good to walk out and see something I helped build. It's quite an accomplishment.

What I did this summer

I've been able to read for as long as I can remember. I could read when I started kindergarten. In 4th grade, I was reading at a college level, according to the standardized tests. That's not to brag, just to say that reading has always been easy for me -- and a pleasure -- and the thought of not having that is almost beyond my comprehension.

So, with some extra time on my hands this summer, I decided to volunteer as a tutor for the Children's Literacy Center. I worked one-on-one with two different children at Adams Elementary School: a six-year-old boy and a nine-year-old girl. I tutored each kid for an hour a day, twice a week, using the Children's Literacy Center's Peak Reader program. It made my job easy. I just had to follow the curriculum and lessons in the book. The most fun was doing flash cards with the kids. Some days, the boy I worked with was a little wound up so we would go out in the hallway with the flash cards. When he read a word correctly, I would have him hop forward or spin around or do some other activity. By the time he'd read all the cards, he'd be ready to sit down and do a lesson.

I find it interesting to think about learning to read. Think of the English language and all the crazy "rules" it has. Then look at a word like "said." How does that fit in anywhere? How does "ai" make an "eh" sound? Or think about "two" which sounds like "to" and "too." Why is there a "w" in that word? In our sessions, we called these kind of words "naughty" because they don't follow any rules. You just have to remember it. It gets crazy when you think about it for too long.

By the end of our eight weeks together, the kids had learned the words on their flash cards and were doing well reading on their own. I hope they learned a lot and are ready for school to start. I know I am a better person because of the experience. I'm sure I got as much out of as they did.

At the end of it all, we had a party with cookies and games and lots of smiles. I have a picture of myself with the two kids, all of us smiling and really enjoying ourselves. The boy I tutored wrote me a note that said, "I love you Pam." It almost made me cry.

I'll be tutoring again in the fall. I don't know if it'll be with the same kids or different ones. But I'm sure it will be rewarding. It feels good to think I've made a small difference in these kids' lives, even if it was just for the fact that someone took time out of her day to spend it with them.

What I read: "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

I have yet to read "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini. It's on my reading list. I've almost bought it at Starbucks a few times. I look for it at the library, but it seems to be too popular to stay on the shelf, and there's always something else on my list.

"A Thousand Splendid Suns" wasn't on my list, but when I went to look -- once again -- for "The Kite Runner," several copies of this book sat on the shelf. I picked it up, thinking I'd give Hosseini a chance with his second book.

I'm really glad I did. "A Thousand Splendid Suns" is one of the most heart-wrenching books I've read in a long time. It was almost painful to read at times, yet I found myself unable to put it down. The two main characters -- Mariam and Laila -- are so compelling, so tragic, but still so courageous and filled with hope even in the face of hopelessness, I couldn't wait to see what happened to them. And then I didn't want it to end.

Set against the backdrop of Afghanistan through the rise and fall of the Soviet Union to the horrors of civil wars and the Taliban, "A Thousand Splendid Suns" manages to be filled with both hope and despair, beauty and horror. Anyone who has ever believed they wouldn't tolerate the kind of treatment Afghan women endure will come to see that they would tolerate it. Both Mariam and Laila have little choice as to whether they will put up with being beaten, being told when and where they can go out, wearing a burqa or being given away in marriage to a man more than twice their age or marrying a man who already has a wife. In Laila's case, her husband is old enough to be her grandfather. But circumstances don't really allow these women another option.

Despite the raids, the bombings, the beatings, the women experience moments of pure splendor:

"Outside mockingbirds were singing blithely, and once in a while, when the songsters took flight, Mariam could see their wings catching the phosphorescent blue of moonlight beaming through the clouds. And though her throat was parched with thirst and her feet burned with pins and needles, it was a long time before Mariam gently freed her finger from the baby's grip and got up."

Khaled Hosseini was born in Kabul, Afghanistan, but moved to the United States in 1980. Still, he manages to capture what I can only imagine it must be like to be a woman in Afghanistan. Despite the struggles, the losses, the absolute terror of living in a worn-torn land, life -- somehow -- goes on. They still love and find beauty in their country and each other.

What I watched: Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog, Act I

Neil Patrick Harris is Dr. Horrible. Nathan Fillion is Captain Hammer. They are arch enemies. It's a musical. Feel the love: http://www.drhorrible.com/act_I.html

No. Really. Just watch. It's 13 minutes and 49 seconds you won't regret.

Act II starts July 17. Act III is July 19. I can't wait.

What I read: "A Prayer for Owen Meany" by John Irving

Owen Meany is strange. And my experience reading about him was strange. At one point the narrator talks about a class reading stories by Alice Munro. During my last trip to the library I checked out "A Prayer for Owen Meany" and a book of short stories called "Runaway" by Alice Munro. I thought that was a small strange coincidence. "A Prayer For Owen Meany" culminates in a flashback to July 8, 1968. I just happened to finish reading the book on July 8, 2008.

I know those are just coincidences, but what makes it strange is that the book itself is about coincidences and miracles. Irving creates his typical quirky characters and makes us care about them. "A Prayer for Owen Meany" tells a tale of love, friendship and courage. Owen, who never grows to more than 5 feet tall and retains a child's voice throughout his life, teaches others how to overcome adversity despite his own problems.

The book is funny and touching and at times profound. Some may find the characters over the top (it's what Irving does -- see "The World According to Garp"). But that's what I like about it. The characters are eccentric or flamboyant or boisterous or evil in their way. You love them or hate them, but you care about them and what happens to them next.

There's even a bit of a history lesson in the novel, as we learn how many American troops were in Vietnam on a given New Year's Eve and how many had died. The book also gives us some history of the Iran-Contra scandal. It's interesting to compare those times to what's happening in our world today.

In his introduction to the 2002 edition of the novel, Irving says, "I may one day write a better first sentence to a novel than that of 'A Prayer for Owen Meany,' but I doubt it."

It's a long sentence and it opens the book with a bang:
"I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice -- not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother's death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany."

The book hasn't converted me or made me believe in miracles -- I'm too much of a skeptic -- but it was a strange experience. And I, too, am "doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice."

What I watched: Happy Accidents

First, I have to confess an irrational attraction to Vincent D'Onofrio. It isn't that I find him especially good looking -- at least not in any kind of conventional way. But when I see him on television, I can't take my eyes off him. Even on recent episodes of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, where D'Onofrio is looking a little bloated and worn, I still can't help watching. When he's not on that program -- when they have a Chris Noth storyline instead -- I don't watch. I don't care. Of course, there's something especially intriguing about D'Onofrio's Detective Robert Goran. The character is fun to watch. He's a little nuts, and I love that.

Which leads to my recent viewing of Happy Accidents. This movie is an eight-year-old independent film starring D'Onofrio and Marisa Tomei (who I also find intriguing and beautiful). Sam (D'Onofrio) and Ruby (Tomei) meet at the park and begin a whirlwind romance. Everything seems perfect until Sam starts displaying some strange quirks. He's especially afraid of small dogs. Why? They don't have them where he comes from. Which is where? Dubuque. Iowa. Except it turns out Sam doesn't mean "our" Dubuque. Sam believes he is from Dubuque in the year 2470. Ruby thinks Sam is just another in a long line of losers she's dated and tried to fix. But there's something about Sam that keeps her hanging in there.

This is a sweet little movie with some twists to it, including a pre-Dead Zone cameo from Anthony Michael Hall -- they refer to him as "that geeky kid" from Sixteen Candles. It's a perfect movie for a rainy afternoon. It's worth watching, if for nothing other than getting to look at D'Onofrio and Tomei for an hour and 50 minutes.

On my mind

Today would have been my mom's 71st birthday. This video, with images of her through the years, is for her and everyone who loved her.

What I watched -- Dexter, The First Season on DVD

"Dexter" is dark but it's also darkly funny and a lot of fun. The series airs on Showtime, so I knew little about it besides what I'd read or heard from others. But it's summer, and most of the programs we normally watch are on hiatus, so "Dexter" got bumped to the top of the queue. And I'm really glad it did.

Dexter (played with lovable creepiness by Michael C. Hall) is a forensic investigator, working for the Miami police and specializing in blood spatters. He's really good at it, but then he has a bit of an inside track. Dexter also happens to be a serial killer. The difference is Dexter only kills those he feels deserve to die: other serial killers. (Don't question it. Just go with it.) Dexter was adopted when he was 3 and raised by a cop -- Harry Morgan, played by James Remar -- who understands Dexter's tendencies and creates a code to help Dexter control his urges. He also teaches him how not to get caught.

The first season zips along with plot elements involving a serial killer that knows Dexter and leaves clues just for him; Dexter's love life, such as it is for someone who feels nothing (or so he says); his family life, which includes his foul-mouthed adopted sister; and the investigations he helps with. "Dexter" is a cop show with a big difference: Dexter himself. Supporting characters help round out the show, with well-acted characters you love and those you love to hate. I found myself caring about all of them.

I was pulled in by the very first scene, watching two or three episodes a night until the satisfying season finale. Season 2 is available on DVD Aug. 19 (season 3 starts September on Showtime), and I'm already chomping at the bit hoping it's even half as good as Season 1.

If you like dark comedy with real tension and suspense, check out "Dexter." There's plenty of bloody scenes but nothing is really gory. And the language is definitely R-rated for the dropping of multiple F-bombs.

I give it multiple thumbs-up (watch the show, you'll see why).