<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:36:30.348-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Giraffe, the Pelly and Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-7692977893848197321</id><published>2009-12-31T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T14:03:16.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Introductions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Sz0eZSlC9TI/AAAAAAAAACk/F8n6MszWVCg/s1600-h/IMG_0519.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Sz0eZSlC9TI/AAAAAAAAACk/F8n6MszWVCg/s320/IMG_0519.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421522946256729394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma took no time in naming our little fluffy pets.  She's been into Greek mythology lately (thanks to those Percy Jackson books), and the chicks names reflect that.  We have Selene, Athena, and Pan.  We also have Pig, who is named that because she seemed a bit of a pig initially.  She now seems to be the littlest of the four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Emma explaining who's who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-xmwJmuXfqE&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-xmwJmuXfqE&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-7692977893848197321?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7692977893848197321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=7692977893848197321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/7692977893848197321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/7692977893848197321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2009/12/introductions.html' title='Introductions'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Sz0eZSlC9TI/AAAAAAAAACk/F8n6MszWVCg/s72-c/IMG_0519.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-82113087943926092</id><published>2009-12-30T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T09:00:16.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicks in da House</title><content type='html'>One of my big concerns with getting chickens is how our other animals would react to them.  We've got 2 dogs and a cat (and a snake and some fish, but I wasn't too worried about them).  Darrel said "It'll be fine."  He says that whenever I express worry about anything.  It'll always be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, it's been fine.  Jack (our border-collie mix) sniffs them a bit, then seems a bit freaked out and leaves quickly.  Carmella (our cat) seemed more interested in the box than in the chicks.  Rose (our poodle-maltese mix) is the only animal that shows any real interest.  She will sit and watch them for minutes at a time, even when no one else is around their box.  They've gotten pretty used to her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below are some chicken/dog videos for your viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KNU7kYAV5KU&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KNU7kYAV5KU&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/muj56aN6QIo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/muj56aN6QIo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-82113087943926092?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/82113087943926092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=82113087943926092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/82113087943926092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/82113087943926092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2009/12/chicks-in-da-house.html' title='Chicks in da House'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-2866450402406089141</id><published>2009-12-28T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T16:09:00.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Chicken Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/SzlIhh6YxAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Yl5iT2SNXZA/s1600-h/IMG_0510.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/SzlIhh6YxAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Yl5iT2SNXZA/s320/IMG_0510.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420443367393248258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2009 holiday season will forever be known in Rodriguez-Mayers family lore as The Christmas The Chickens Came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little background:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darrel has wanted chickens ever since we moved into the 23 (as the hipsters are calling our neighborhood now, apparently) 12 years ago.  He grew up with chickens and has fond memories of them.  I didn't grow up with chickens, and assumed that they were noisy, smelly and annoying.  When he insisted they weren't, I figured that since the house he grew up in sat on many acres of land, he probably just didn't notice it - they were most likely kept far away from the house.  He continued bringing up the idea of having a little flock of our own, and Emma soon joined his side of the debate.  I remained strong, however.  Until, the Guinta-Moore family got chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG (Isabella) Guinta is Emma's best friend, and her family lives in Hyde Park.  About 2 (?) years ago they got 4 chickens.  They were little baby chicks, ordered on-line and send through the mail.  Who knew?  Emma fell madly in love with them, and, through spending lots of time at GG's, became an expert handler.  Seeing Emma with a chicken sitting in her arms, my defenses weakened a bit.  When we were told by Elizabeth and Weston that they were good pets, fun to watch and interact with, and not all that stinky, smelly and annoying, I began rationalizing.  We do have a large back yard.  It'd only be 4 chicks, max.  I do LOVE birds, and will never be allowed by Darrel to have a conjure or a parrot, so maybe I should settle for chickens.   OK, OK, we'll get chickens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 years later, we were still talking, but doing nothing, about it.  In early December, Darrel came up with the idea of getting some chicks for Emma for Christmas.  I tried to reason with him, and assumed he'd either forget about it or realize it was a crazy idea.  He did not.  He found out that Callahan's here in Austin sells baby chicks - some as young as a week old.  He also found out that they'd need to stay in the house for the first 4 to 6 weeks of their lives, so we wouldn't need a coop yet.  He brought 4 baby chicks home on Christmas Eve day while Emma and I were walking the dogs.  We hid them in the music room, and assumed that Emma would hear them peeping away.  She didn't.  She thought we had bought her a new bed and that's what we were trying to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning came with the secret still only known to Darrel and myself.  My folks were in town too, and we hadn't told them either.  We opened all our presents that morning, and then blindfolded Emma.  We led her into the music room, placed her next to the box and took off the blindfold.  "OHMYGOD! CHICKENS!!!"  She then squealed and laughed in a higher pitch than I've ever heard come out of her mouth.  She couldn't believe it.  Best. Christmas. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/SzlIIh8BiDI/AAAAAAAAABw/tG7w_ORkxW8/s1600-h/IMG_0502.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/SzlIIh8BiDI/AAAAAAAAABw/tG7w_ORkxW8/s320/IMG_0502.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420442937903384626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are adorable.  Tiny and fluffy and sweet and precious.  We are all desperately in love with them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-2866450402406089141?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/2866450402406089141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=2866450402406089141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/2866450402406089141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/2866450402406089141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2009/12/chicken-christmas.html' title='A Chicken Christmas'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/SzlIhh6YxAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Yl5iT2SNXZA/s72-c/IMG_0510.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-5496357767890539886</id><published>2009-11-01T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T14:11:25.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4064754297/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4BYgwarPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/oEZQi1CN1R4/s320/IMG_0449.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399254523885300978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not posted anything here for about a year and a half.  Most likely, I decided that it'd just be more fun to keep up with people on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; instead of writing long-winded stuff on this blog.  But, Darrel came across my blog a couple of weeks ago and suggested that I start posting again.  I figure it can't hurt anything, so, here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, Emma decided she wanted to be a character out of the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mighty_Boosh"&gt;Mighty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Boosh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6vX9hR50Ik"&gt;Hitcher Henchman&lt;/a&gt;.  Darrel and I warned her that no one would know who she was, but she didn't seem to mind.  I thought I'd do it too, since the Hitcher has 2 cockney henchmen.  So, we bought some black hats, green face paint and peppermint life savers.  I sewed some strips of white onto our black shirts, we made "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;polos&lt;/span&gt; for the eye" and we were ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4065584048/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4CqgV8vfI/AAAAAAAAAAo/qzQho-w3kas/s320/100_6184.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399255932523560434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darrel took a quick trip into Spirit Halloween, and came back with a raven and a hat.  He put the former onto the latter, a black mask onto his face, and donned a trench coat, and he was ready.  He wasn't really sure what he was, but he looked really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wore our outfits to a party at Holly, Shane and Chloe's house.  No one knew who any of us were, but we had a good time anyway.  Their parties are always great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4064763023/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4EAEmOsJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/7vaP7xC6p0I/s320/100_6227.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399257402544402578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween also means the Lee Elementary Carnival.  Hundreds of children, hopped up on sugar, running around the school.  Emma decided to lose the green face paint for the carnival.  Darrel and I don't typically dress up for it, but did this year.  I went for an easier &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;witchy&lt;/span&gt;-type thing this time, as I didn't want to spend the entire night trying to explain to people about this obscure British comedy.  I think I made the right choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4065510098/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4Eq44LlEI/AAAAAAAAABI/pRzJ6u01xTc/s320/100_6225.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399258138132845634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw very little of Emma at the carnival.  When she was in kindergarten, she was attached to my knee.  No longer.  She got her tickets from us and then she was off, running around with her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4064772137/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4GOfvyuFI/AAAAAAAAABg/ArWHGiipwMw/s320/100_6235.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399259849373694034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween day was spent getting the house ready and carving our pumpkins.  It was Darrel's turn to take Emma around the neighborhood, so I manned the candy bowl in my witch get-up.  Emma took over when she came back, and we had a pretty good crowd this year.  A few little ones were quite frightened by us.  A successful Halloween all the way 'round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/4064777387/in/set-72157622586451533/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4GgzvneDI/AAAAAAAAABo/voC1TafhJR0/s320/100_6249.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399260163979311154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-5496357767890539886?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/5496357767890539886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=5496357767890539886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/5496357767890539886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/5496357767890539886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mWm46m-9yVI/Su4BYgwarPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/oEZQi1CN1R4/s72-c/IMG_0449.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-1289652627841683695</id><published>2008-03-18T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T08:18:31.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break 2008</title><content type='html'>No SXSW for me this year.  What could keep me away from all those days of great music, you ask?  &lt;a href="http://www.nps.gov/bibe/"&gt;Big Bend&lt;/a&gt;, that's what.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/2342078526/in/set-72157604140959674/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3070/2342078526_986f2d19a4.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friends Matt and Sandra booked a few rooms in the &lt;a href="http://foreverlodging.com/destination.cfm?PropertyKey=73"&gt;Chisos Mountain Lodge&lt;/a&gt; back in early 2007 for spring break 2008.  Being the only lodging in the park, the place fills up fast for spring break.  We are very lucky to have such forward-thinking friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived on Monday and left early Saturday morning.  While there we did lots of hiking, saw lots of deer, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For photos and details, visit my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/sets/72157604140959674/"&gt;Flickr&lt;/a&gt; page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-1289652627841683695?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/1289652627841683695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=1289652627841683695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/1289652627841683695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/1289652627841683695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-break-2008.html' title='Spring Break 2008'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-7642224062691470024</id><published>2008-01-09T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T12:33:37.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I began writing this shortly after the new year.  It was getting too long and self-indulgent, so I stopped, thinking I'd return to it soon.  Seeing as it is now March, and I want to post something about our Big Bend Spring Break trip, I thought I should finish the Christmas post.  Lord, I do tend to procrastinate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/2169517665/in/set-72157603640299192/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2017/2169517665_4360bcdd5a.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year for the Christmas holiday Darrel, Emma and I went to Wyoming to visit Darrel's brother and family.  They live outside the town of Jackson, very near the &lt;a href="http://www.nps.gov/grte/"&gt;Grand Teton National Park&lt;/a&gt; and the &lt;a href="http://www.jacksonhole.com/"&gt;Jackson Hole Ski Resort&lt;/a&gt;.  Randell, Trish and the kids (Jesse, Justin and Christopher) always pamper and spoil us, and this year was no exception.  They live in a lovely house that Randell and his company built, and have a large workshop on their land.  The second floor of this building houses a little office and a small apartment where we stay.  It's got a comfy bed, a bathroom, a fridge (always stocked with beer and wine when we arrive) and a coffee maker.  What more could one ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had talked about the possibility of skiing a bit during our visit, but I was hesitant.  Darrel and Randell grew up going to France to ski (tough life, I know), but it had been 20 years or so since Darrel had been on the slopes.  I had skied once when I was 10, which really doesn't count.  Emma hadn't tried the sport yet, but I wasn't really worried about her.  It was my out-of-shape self that I was concerned with.  But, not wanting to be a negative-Nellie, I got all kitted up too and gave it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randell rented us the skis and boots for a week as a Christmas present, which pretty much committed us to an awful lot of skiing.  Darrel picked it again up right away.  He's shite at ice and roller skating, so I figured he'd not be any good at this.  I was wrong.  He was very graceful, and the only time he ever fell was when he was trying to help Emma and me up from the ground.  Very impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/2169506067/in/set-72157603640299192/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2306/2169506067_c36a400de2.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma took to it right away.  She was adorable all bundled up with her helmet and goggles on.  And fearless.  Not worried at all about falling.  It took her a bit of time to learn to control her speed and direction, but once she had that down, there was no stopping her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me longer to get the hang of things.  Going down the hill was no problem.  Its the slowing down and stopping that gave me grief.  I fell a lot, but with Darrel and Randell tutoring and encouraging me, I built my confidence up and began to enjoy myself.  Skiing is a bit of an insane sport, if you ask me, but once I figured out how to control my decent, I felt much better.  I'm certainly not good at it, but I did have fun.  We'll hopefully do it again, and I'll be better prepared for the whole endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fantastic to see Emma out there, following Darrel and Randell between trees and over little hills.  And it was beautiful.  Just gorgeous.  And we saw moose from the lift!  Can't beat that now, can ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also took a trip out to the &lt;a href="http://www.fws.gov/nationalelkrefuge/"&gt;National Elk Refuge&lt;/a&gt;, and dragged the Wyoming Mayers clan with us.  It was beautiful out there, and we saw not only lots of elk, but two bald eagles and a couple of coyotes.  Stunning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/2169470193/in/set-72157603640299192/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2110/2169470193_1a0bc15d00.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more photos of our trip, visit my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/sets/72157603640299192/"&gt;Flickr set&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-7642224062691470024?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/7642224062691470024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=7642224062691470024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/7642224062691470024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/7642224062691470024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2008/01/winter-wonderland.html' title='Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-805533728944166891</id><published>2007-08-27T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T11:40:38.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales of West Texas</title><content type='html'>With September fast approaching, Darrel and I realized we had not taken a summer holiday together.  Early in the summer Darrel took a brief trip to the UK and Emma and I went to Orlando, but the three of us had not escaped Austin together.  A family trip was called for, and we decided to go west.  Emma and I had driven through that part of the state last summer with my Dad, after a trip to Cloudcroft, New Mexico.  We had spent one night in Marfa, and had really enjoyed the area.  Darrel hadn't been to that area of Texas, so we decided to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a place to stay on-line that looked nice and remote - &lt;a href="http://www.chinatihotsprings.com/Home.html"&gt;Chinati Hot Springs&lt;/a&gt;.  We decided to spend 3 nights there and then 1 in Marfa at the &lt;a href="http://thunderbirdmarfa.com/"&gt;Thunderbird Hotel&lt;/a&gt;.   Emma, Dad and I had stayed there last summer and enjoyed it.  I got a rental car through Priceline, and we were all set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because this damn state is so friggin' big, we decided to leave bright and early.  Well, early anyway.  It's not so bright at 4:30 in the a.m.  We were up at 3:30, packed everything, had not nearly enough cups of coffee, threw Emma in the car in her nightgown and were off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit I-10 around sunrise and Emma woke up shortly after that.  She brought out the video camera and shot some road footage as Mummy drove and Daddy slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=286625&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=286625&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had made the decision to drive through &lt;a href="http://www.nps.gov/bibe/"&gt;Big Bend National Park&lt;/a&gt; on our way to the hot springs, since we had never been there.  This added several hours to our drive, but it was worth it.  Before we got to the park, we stopped in Marathon for lunch.  There's a nice old hotel there called the Gage, and they had great courtyard and refreshing-looking pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1244/1218491070_c7ca086074.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1199/1217661761_2d3884def3.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the car and on to Big Bend.  Darrel took the wheel and I took the video and still cameras.  Emma became grumpy and bored in the backseat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=286653&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=286653&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1348/1217707359_3d067dbef9.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing we could spend more time there, we stopped briefly in the park to stretch our legs, and then were off again toward Terlingua.  We stopped in the Terlingua Ghost Town, so that Darrel could take a few photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1272/1217818173_135639b001.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we got an uncomfortable pic of the three of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1315/1217818223_1e2403afd5.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road from Big Bend to Presidio, which is the last "big" town before our hot springs destination follows the US-Mexico border.  From parts of it, you can see the Rio Grande.  It's a very scenic drive, but also slow going for the uninitiated.  It seemed to go on forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287663&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287663&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short stop in Presidio to gas up and we were on the home stretch - the last 30 minutes of which were spent on a gravel road winding through the hills.  We finally reached our destination - 13 hours after leaving our casa on Corona Drive.  So very worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place is very minimal.  If you are looking for creature comforts, this is not the place for you.  We did have our own little cabin with a/c and a shower and tub on the little fenced-in patio.  The shower and tub used water from the hot spring, which was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a communal kitchen that is equipped with everything needed for meal-making, except food and drinking water.  Luckily we brought both, so we were all set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1360/1217851543_9a77fbb950.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had a nice deck where Emma enjoyed watching the ants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1013/1217885015_914ec14dcd.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We unpacked and jumped into the pool.  It sat on a hill, affording an amazing view.  The owner of the place said the pump was not working, so it was a little green.  OK, it was more than a little green, but it was 104 out there dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1357/1219029384_baa4761456.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1205/1219077170_b2bea291e5.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we enjoyed the silence and darkness, and Emma crashed.  Darrel and I followed after a brief dip in the hot springs-filled hot tub that was a few steps from our door.  A long day of driving ended sitting in nice, warm water staring up at the stars.  Not a bad first day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke before the other two and went for a short walk.  The sun had just risen and it was lovely and cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287800&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287800&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the day doing lots of nothing.  We went for an early hike in the desert, and Darrel took some great photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1003/1217963989_6c75806726.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1435/1218952938_e7787f3c14.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma found a frog on our shower/patio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1375/1218001583_299fcfd621.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a visit by one of the resident hound dog puppies, Lefty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1147/1218001639_b82a2901b3.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made the long trip back to Presidio for the essentials - more water, milk and beer.  Other than that, we swam, ate, explored the creek bed, swam some more, ate again, and slept.  I love holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Three&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for an early morning walk down the creek bed.  Emma was fascinated with the tadpoles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1014/1218036627_0700a507db.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we stumbled across a stone head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287850&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287850&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We swam some more and spent some time in the hot tub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1148/1218243011_f4dfe5083a.jpg?v=0%22" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A storm blew in during the late afternoon.  It cooled things down quite a bit, and actually included some hail.  We were in the kitchen, which has a tin roof, and it was like we were under attack.  Wish we had gotten some audio of that, it was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it an early night, since we were leaving early the next morning to head to Marfa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Four&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could have happily stayed at the hot springs for many more days - Emma wants to move there, she enjoyed it so much - but we had reservations at the Thunderbird.  We said goodbye to our cabin, the tadpoles, dogs and green pool, and headed north.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to Marfa too early to check into our hotel, so we wandered around town a bit - had coffee, lunch and explored the top of the courthouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1407/1218279393_fc45a8196b.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1346/1218306537_0ab60be268.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We checked in after lunch, and Emma and I immediately jumped into the lovely, non-green, pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287865&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF" height="360" width="480"&gt; &lt;param name="quality" value="best"&gt; &lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt; &lt;param name="scale" value="showAll"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=287865&amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;fullscreen=1&amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;show_portrait=1&amp;amp;color=00ADEF"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our refreshing dip, we rented some bikes from the hotel and rode around town for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1307/1218343553_e4b7277bbe.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a bit more swimming and much-needed showers for all, we had dinner at the restaurant in the Paisano hotel and headed out to see the infamous Marfa lights.  Emma, Dad and I had seen them last year, and were lucky enough to catch them again.  No video or still photos of them, but we saw them, I promise.  They still looked a bit like car headlights off in the distance, but were cool nevertheless.  There was an annoying woman there who insisted on describing every movement of each light in a very loud voice.  I came close to asking her to shut the hell up, since she was ruining it for the rest of us.  Darrel thought she was a perfect candidate for alien abduction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We retired early, preparing ourselves for our long journey home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Five&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The journey home was much shorter.  We left Marfa at about 8:30, and were back in our driveway at 4:45-ish.  We stopped in Alpine for breakfast, resolving to spend more time there on our next trip to the area.  We then headed to I-10 and drove and drove and drove.  Emma documented part of the trip back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1099/1219234160_fc396523e4.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1026/1219234166_1c7b5defc6.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a very enjoyable trip.  We all had a great time, and came back rejuvenated.  I do feel that we could have spent another 3 weeks out there and still not been able to see and do all that we wanted.  Darrel wants to head east next time we go somewhere, but I need more desert-time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many more photos can be seen on my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8113877@N04/sets/72157601624248377/"&gt;Flickr&lt;/a&gt; page, and more videos are on &lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/angrodmayers/videos"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-805533728944166891?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/805533728944166891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=805533728944166891' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/805533728944166891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/805533728944166891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2007/08/tales-of-west-texas.html' title='Tales of West Texas'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-116308975137809744</id><published>2006-11-09T08:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T08:31:16.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dust in the Wind</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We're getting our floors done.  Well over-due, I must admit.  Laminate Pergo-esque stuff in the living room instead of that foul carpet, and tile in the kitchen and hall.  We got installation quotes from a couple of companies, but they were mighty pricey.  Then we realized we had a friend who did this sort of stuff, and he needed a gig, so we decided to ask him to do it.  (I'll call him Paul, since that's his name, and calling him anything else would be weird, eh?)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Paul began the living room floors last Monday.  It took him a couple of days, and he still needs to do the base-boards and stuff, but it looks fabulous.  The room looks so much bigger now.  The only down side is that the dogs barks are even louder without the carpet to absorb the sound.  They love it and seem to think it makes them sound extra tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The kitchen and hall had this vinyl crap that Paul had to get up before he could begin the tile.  He had a difficult time of it.  In places it seemed to become one with the foundation.  So, that took longer than expected, and by the end of last week, there was still no tile on our floors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Monday, he finished getting all of the vinyl up.  Tuesday, he realized that part of the floor in the hall was not level.  Our house was built in the 50s, so various occupants have put all sorts of stuff on the floors.  I have no idea what this stuff was, but he had to get it up, and then had to sand the cement that was underneath to get it all nice and level.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now, I appreciate the fact that he wanted to do it properly.  If he hadn't leveled it all out, it would have been really bad.  However, Tuesday night and last night I came home to a kitchen and living room covered in a fine layer of dust.  On. Everything.  Darrel said he put up tarp-thingys between the hall and the living room and the kitchen, but the dust still got everywhere.  Tuesday night it bothered me a bit that we had to rinse all the dishes that we had left on the counter in the drying rack the night before.  (No time-saving, modern appliances like dishwashers for us!)  It was also slightly annoying that I slipped and almost fell on my ass when I walked into the bathroom because of the dust on the tile in there.  But, considering that I am really bad at adapting to trying situations like this one, I thought I held it together quite well.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But last night.  Darrel had taken Emma to gymnastics, so I got home to an empty house and had to make dinner and tidy the kitchen.  Again, dust on everything.  The countertops, the floors, the table, the bookshelves, the windowsills, the kettle, the pots and pans that hang on the walls, in the dog and cat bowls, the kitchen towels, again on the dishes in the drying rack (why didn't we think to put them back in the cupboards? dunno, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway because...) and everything in the kitchen cabinets!  Our cabinets are old and apparently do not close well enough to keep that damn dust out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, everything was a mess.  Everything that I needed to make dinner had this dust on it, so everything had to be washed BEFORE I used it.  Now, for normal people, that may not seem like a big deal, but me, it is the kind of thing that sends me over the edge.  Anyone watching me would have been amused as I swore, stamped my feet, slammed cabinet doors, and acted like an ass as I made dinner.  Luckily I had got it all out of my system, and a beer or two into my system, by the time Darrel and Emma made it home, so I was capable of rational communication and was no longer acting like a spoiled brat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Darrel promised that the sanding was over and that Paul would start tiling today.  For everyone's sake, I hope he's telling the truth.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-116308975137809744?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/116308975137809744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=116308975137809744' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/116308975137809744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/116308975137809744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/11/dust-in-wind.html' title='Dust in the Wind'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-115369296023208710</id><published>2006-07-23T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T18:55:30.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horsey Camp 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/emma2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/emma2.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided that Emma was ready for a horsey camp this summer.  She has a couple of friends who take riding lessons, and while we can't afford a weekly schedule, I thought I could swing a two-week summer camp.  She's been around horses a few times in her life, but has been afraid of them.  She said she wanted to learn to ride, and she was being very brave about it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chose &lt;a href="http://www.goldenvistaequestriancenter.com/"&gt;Golden Vista Equestrian Center&lt;/a&gt; for her camp.  I only include the link so that you will know where &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; to send your child to camp.  Please allow me to elaborate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chose the place, to be honest, because it was the cheapest we found.  They also had pick-up and drop-off here in town.  Most of these places are a-ways out of town, and we figured it would be alot easier if we (meaning Darrel) did not have to drive her all the way out to wherever she was going.  We met the woman who owns the place, Cheryl, at the camp fair that they have every year at the convention center, and she seemed nice enough.  So, I sent in the application and deposit.  We then went out there for an &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/horses/index.html"&gt;open house&lt;/a&gt; to check out the place.  It seemed OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have realized something wasn't quite right when I had trouble getting Cheryl to return my phone calls.  I had initially called her to check on availability for the session that we wanted, and waited about 2 weeks to hear from her.  Then, right beofe camp began, I called again to confirm that Emma did indeed have a place in that session (we had received no confirmation via regular or e-mail) and that I should bring the remainder of what we owed that first morning.  When I didn't get a call back in a week, I called again, and thankfully reached her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had decided that we would drive Emma out to the stables the first day instead of having her ride in the van.  Camp was supposed to start at 8:00.  We arrived a few mintues before, and there were already some parents and kids waiting there.  After a few minutes, a couple of teenagers showed up, and we found out that they'd be helping during the camp.  They were about 15.  It wasn't until at least 8:20, probably more like 8:30 before Cheryl showed up, driving the van with the kids she had picked up in Austin in it.  There was no other adult in sight.  So, that was sign number two that this may not have been the right place for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sign number three was how damn disorganized this woman was.  As I said, we had not received any confirmation in the mail, or any forms to complete and return after the initial application.  So, the next 20 minutes or so were taken up with all of us standing around in a barn as she shouted out names, and parents completed a form, and wrote her a check.  Meanwhile, the kids stood around, played with some cats, and climbed on the hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moment that morning was when she was trying to turn on these large fans to get some air circulating.  She couldn't figure out how to turn them on.  This is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her barn&lt;/span&gt;, for god's sake!  And she's never turned on the fans before?  She actually said "Can I get a man over here to help me with this?"  Signs number 4 and 5, in quick succession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we finally got all that crap out of the way, and it was time for the kids to start learning something, and time for the parents to leave.  Still, no other adult but this Cheryl, who snapped at her helpers a couple of times that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked Emma up at the appointed drop off place (which, conveniently, is 5 minutes away from our house) that afternoon.  Cheryl was driving the van.  I heard her tell another parent that someone had tried to run them off the road on the way in, and that she had been driving and trying to call 911 at the same time.  Oh jesus.  At this point, I've stopped counting the bad signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the two weeks Emma attended this camp, Darrel and I had a few other annoying encounters with Cheryl, that I won't go into here, cuz they'll seem petty.  (Ask me about the chicken-salad incident one day, and I'll go on for a good hour.)  But they were annoying, none-the-less.  And, quite frankly, I paid her an awful lot of money, and I expected to be treated a bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kept our opinions about Cheryl to ourselves and did not share them with Emma.  I didn't see any point in ruining her time.  She was having fun, and the only negative thing she said about Cheryl was that she was a little bossy.  So, Emma finished up the camp, and on the last day, they had a little show so they could show us what they learned.  I've posted more photos on my &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/horsecamp/index.html"&gt;family picture page&lt;/a&gt;.   She did really well.  She was on top of this great big horse, named Darren.  She got him to trot, and to go around a barrel and everything.  I was very impressed.  Such a brave girl I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the camp was over and done with, I talked to Emma a bit about Cheryl and everything.  I asked her if she was interested in taking more riding lessons, and she hesitated.  I told her that it wouldn't be with Cheryl, and she agreed to more lessons immediately.  We talked about Cheryl, and I asked her if she had been around alot during the day time.  Emma said she hadn't.  It turns out that Cheryl didn't do any of the teaching at all.  That the high school kids that worked for her did all of the instruction.  Emma said that they rarely saw Cheryl during the day at all.  This would explain why she didn't know any of the kids names at the end of camp horse show.  Because she wasn't there with the kids at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, those high school girls were great.  Emma really liked them, and I have no doubt that they knew exactly what they were doing.  During the horse show, they were great with the kids.  They were very encouraging and kind to them.  (Cheryl, meanwhile, would yell at the kids things like "That wasn't trotting!  Go back and do it again!")  I don't have any problem at all with the fact that they were the ones teaching the kids.  In fact, I'm glad it was them and not Cheryl.  But, no where in any of the literature did she mention that she wouldn't be doing the teaching herself, or that the instructors weren't even old enough to drive.  I just wonder how much of my cash went to those girls, and how much went to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also asked Emma about Cheryl's driving.  Emma said that she was often on her cell phone while she was driving the van.  What the hell???  That's my kid you've got in there.  And alot of other people's kids.  And you're on your cell.  I know there are varying opinions about whether or not talking on your phone impairs your driving ability, but when you've got 10 kids in the van with you?  Other people's kids??  Insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And (I promise, this is the last one) one afternoon, she took them on a field trip.  To Petsmart.  To get supplies for the horses.  It was too hot to ride, she said.  So she put them in the van, and took them to the store.  Do your errands on your own time, lady.  Not while I'm paying you almost $300.00 to teach my kid to ride a friggin' horse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's my rant.  I apologize for the length.  I have learned that I need to do my homework a little better next time.  We've been really fortunate with all of Emma's other summer camps.  Emma's had a great time, the people are really wonderful, and I feel completely comfortable leaving her in their keeping.  I guess one bad one over the past few years isn't all that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if you're looking for a horse camp for your child.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do not&lt;/span&gt; choose Golden Vista Equestrian Center.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-115369296023208710?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/115369296023208710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=115369296023208710' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/115369296023208710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/115369296023208710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/07/horsey-camp-2006.html' title='Horsey Camp 2006'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114669816493608384</id><published>2006-05-03T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T16:17:19.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Truthiness and Manipulation</title><content type='html'>First off, Stephen Colbert is my new hero.  I'm not sure if I had an old hero, but if I did, she's been replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've probably already seen this, but if you haven't, please please watch it:  &lt;a href="http://blogs.citypages.com/ctg/2006/04/the_truthiness.asp" target="_self"&gt;Stephen Colbert addressing the White House Correspondents' Dinner.&lt;/a&gt; There's a little blurb about it, and then his speech is broken up into 3 different videos that you can, and should, watch.  Just brilliant.  I've always been tempted to get cable just to watch the Daily Show, but this has brought me one step closer to shelling out that money.  If it could go straight into the pockets of Jon Stewart and Mr. Colbert, I'd definitely do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an unrelated tale, I've discovered that my daughter is a master manipulator.  (Manipulatress?)  She hasn't been wanting to go to bed at the normal, established time during the past week or so.  I've put it down to her fabulous Auntie Gayle sending her an audio copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone read by Stephen Fry.  She hadn't read the book yet, and certainly hasn't seen the movie, and I had wanted to read it with her first, but gave in pretty quickly.  It was definitely the right move.  Great reading, as one would expect from Mr. Fry.  We all loved it.  Whenever Emma had a free moment she'd want to put the tape on.  It was great, but so exciting and interesting, that it was not very conducive to sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I had put her to bed the other night and retired to the living room.  5 minutes later she was out of her room claiming insomnia.  I told her to go back to her room, grab a book and look at it for a while and it should make her sleepy.  15 minutes after that, she was back.  And here is what my sweet little 7 year old said:  "I feel lonely and sad.  I miss you.  I&lt;span style="font-family:monospace;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;feel like I never see you and we never spend time&lt;span style="font-family:monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia,serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;together because you get home from work so late."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord!&lt;span style="font-family:monospace;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Talk about hitting the working-mother-guilt&lt;span style="font-family:monospace;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;bulls-eye!  I've often felt that she spends more time with her teacher than she does with me.  It's not like I work 80 hour weeks or anything, but if I get home at 5:30 and she goes to bed at 8:00, that doesn't leave a whole lot of time.  Plus, once I get home, I'm very goal-oriented and feel like a bit of a drill-sergeant.  There seems to be so much to do and so little time.  Homework (which includes daily work, plus reading words to go over, a spelling test to prepare for and a math quiz to work on), dinner, bathing, and reading before bed.  And if it's her gymnastics day or there's some school-event going on or something, well, just forget about any down-time at all.  (She's at gymnastics right now, as a matter of fact.  Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to write this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps she's old enough to stay up a little later and that might help things.  Or perhaps this is just a short phase, and she'll soon be back to falling asleep at her normal time.  We'll see.  I don't think she was actually all that lonely that evening, but that it was an ingenious ploy to stay up later and con me into letting her sleep in my bed with me.  (Yes, it worked.  Darrel got to sleep in the Princess Bed that night.  He loves that, really he does.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that she's a helluva lot smarter and more observant than I had been giving her credit for.  And considering I think she's brilliant, that's a little scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114669816493608384?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114669816493608384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114669816493608384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114669816493608384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114669816493608384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/05/truthiness-and-manipulation.html' title='Truthiness and Manipulation'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114588901554359974</id><published>2006-04-24T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T11:22:33.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/emma1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/emma1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma turned 7 on Sunday the 23rd. It makes me feel very old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to have a small party this year. We usually have tons of kids running around the back garden and their parents hanging around eating pizza and drinking beer. We've done that every year since she made her entrance into our lives, and while it's an awful lot of fun, I thought it was time for something a little different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Places like &lt;a href="http://www.clublibbylu.com/party.aspx"&gt;Club Libby Lu&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.chuckecheese.com/reservations/"&gt;Chuck E. Cheese&lt;/a&gt; were out of the question, for obvious reasons. Emma and I had been to &lt;a href="http://www.themadpotter.com/index.shtml"&gt;The Mad Potter&lt;/a&gt; before to make gifts for family and teachers, and I thought that would be a nice, calm place to have a little gathering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also decided that she was old enough to have a slumber party. I thought that inviting 4 girls over would be a good number, but it somehow got up-graded to 5 without me realizing. So, we were going to have 6 little 7-year-olds running around the house until late into the night. Hmmmmm...Chuck E. Cheese wasn't sounding quite so bad after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met the gals at The Mad Potter on Saturday afternoon and they spent about an hour and a half or so choosing and painting their little ceramic creations. I think it took them more time to decide on what they wanted to paint than to actually do the painting itself. They had lots of fun, and worked hard on their pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/group_potter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/group_potter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took them home and they ran around the house and garden, chased poor little Rose, jumped on the trampoline, played in the tent, put glittery make up on, made a mess of Emma's room, played with walkie-talkies, and crushed cascarones on each other's heads. Fun fun fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/balloons1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/balloons1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more photos &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/birthday_7/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you're interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made pizza, we had cake and ice cream, Emma opened her presents, and they settled down to watch &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117008/"&gt;Matilda&lt;/a&gt;. I can't think of a better film for a bunch of first grade girls to watch. They loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as luck would have it, I got one of my what I like to refer to as killer headaches. I'm not exactly sure what they are, but they leave me helpless, and often make me physically ill. Great timing huh? So, while I was laying in my dark bedroom trying not to die, Darrel took care of the girls for the rest of the evening. What a brave man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ran around for an hour or so playing with flashlights and scaring each other in the dark house. The screaming was great for my headache, but things could have been a lot worse, so I can't complain. Darrel said the last two finally fell asleep at about 11:00. We figured they'd all be really sleepy and wake up late. We know so little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were all up bright and early at 6:30. Pancakes were made and eaten, more running around the house and garden occurred, and then parents began to arrive. All the girls were gone by 10am, and there were no major injuries. That's what I call a successful sleep-over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the day was just the three of us hanging out together. She opened the gifts that we bought her, we went to Maudie's for lunch, and then to the Main Event for the climbing wall. She had been there with Isabella H. before and had apparently done rather well, but this time, she just couldn't, or wouldn't, get up very far. I find that she's often a lot braver when Darrel and I aren't around. We played air hockey and then left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a relaxing evening and she got to bed at a decent hour. I think she had a great birthday this year. Darrel and I sure had fun. Thank goodness we only have to do it once a year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114588901554359974?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114588901554359974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114588901554359974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114588901554359974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114588901554359974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/04/7-years_24.html' title='7 Years'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114531115711255260</id><published>2006-04-17T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T14:59:17.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Sick Child</title><content type='html'>Huzzah!!!  Emma is well again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, a full week after it made it's first appearance, Emma's fever left her.  Thank, well, thank every diety you can think of.  She's still got a bit of a cough, and is still sleeping a little more than usual, but she's feeling much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too much, actually.  Missing a week of school and not seeing anyone under the age of, well, 37, put her in quite a state.  She drove the husband and myself absolutely mad this weekend.  Lots of wanting to play and tons of sassy back-talk.  Lordy!  It's all understandable, of course.  If I had been in bed for that long, I would have been out of control too.  She went back to school today, and hopefully, got it all out of her system.  Our house should return to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a refrigerator.  The fridge we bought about a year ago decided it just didn't want to keep anything cool anymore, dammit!  It had worked hard enough over the past year, and is on strike.  The freezer is fine, but the fridge is room-temperature, which is lovely, isn't it?  Thank goodness we spent the extra dough and bought the 3 year warranty, which is very unlike us.  We're usually pretty cheap about stuff like that.  Darrel called Fry's (where we made the purchase) and they said it might be 48 hours before someone could get out to the house.  So, we've got a cooler full of melting ice and souring milk in the kitchen.  But the frozen corn is good to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114531115711255260?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114531115711255260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114531115711255260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114531115711255260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114531115711255260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/04/no-more-sick-child.html' title='No More Sick Child'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114486716151331243</id><published>2006-04-12T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T11:39:21.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta Love the Strep!</title><content type='html'>Emma is still sick.  It's Wednesday, for Dog's sake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took her to the doctor on Monday, and we got a call yesterday afternoon that she has strep.  She started her antibiotics last night.  She slept well last night, but remained in bed this morning until 11:30-ish.  She's still running a fever, but she's awake now at least.  Poor baby.  I don't think she's ever been this ill for this long.  The doctor said that she could go back to school once she was on the medicine for 24 hours, which would mean tomorrow.  But, seeing as they don't have school on Friday, I don't see the point in sending her back tomorrow.  Certainly if she's still not 100%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since she slept all morning, I was able to do a little work, which was good, since I'm missing the majority of the week.  She is now laying on the fold-out couch with Rose, our wee-poodle and listening to a book-on-CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is probably the only good thing to come out of this illness.  We pulled out our copy of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0807261793/104-6334762-9641504?v=glance&amp;n=283155"&gt;The Reptile Room (A Series of Unfortunate Events - Book the Second)&lt;/a&gt; read by the amazing Tim Curry, and stuck it in the CD player.  It's the best thing ever.  Much better than the film.  This is Emma's third time through the whole thing in the past 2 days, and shows no sign of tiring of it.  I highly recommend it, whether you have a child or not.  It's just as entertaining for adults, perhaps more so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114486716151331243?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114486716151331243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114486716151331243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114486716151331243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114486716151331243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/04/gotta-love-strep.html' title='Gotta Love the Strep!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114470326952694646</id><published>2006-04-10T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T14:07:49.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend-Schmeekend</title><content type='html'>I had great plans for the past weekend.  Fun was to be had by all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My folks were coming into town to celebrate Emma's birthday a little early, since they won't be here on the day.  &lt;a href="http://www.grupofantasma.com/"&gt;Grupo Fantasma&lt;/a&gt; was playing at Central Market on Saturday night, and we were all going to go.  I've heard much about this group and have wanted to see them for a while.  Central Market seemed the perfect venue: outside under the trees, good food, good beer and wine, and a playscape for the wee one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, the husband's band &lt;a href="http://www.mundiensemble.com"&gt;Mundi&lt;/a&gt; was playing at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center for their Spring Plant Sale.  I love the Wildflower Center.  Especially in the spring.  My Dad loves plants, and there's the Little House with activities for Ms. Emma.  All this, and we'd be supporting Darrel and enjoying the music at the same time.  What could be better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, the weekend gods did not smile upon me or mi familia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, Mom called Friday morning saying she wasn't feeling well.  She still wanted to come, but thought she should warn us about the possibility of her getting us sick.  Ha!  I said.  I laugh at your puny Edna germs.  We have Austin immune sytems.  Bring 'em on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving home after work, I found Emma laying on the couch looking pale.  She had 102 fever.  Ugh.  So much for Austin immune systems.  Several of her friends at school had been out too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My folks came anyway.  Emma had moments of feeling not too bad, mixed with moments of feeling like crap.  Her fever went up and down like a bloody lift all weekend.  Then, to put the icing on the shitty-weekend cake, my Dad fell ill.  I felt like we should quarantine the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no Fantasma, no Wildflowers.  I suppose there will be other near-perfect weekends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here on Monday afternoon at home, Emma is still ill.  I took the day off and took her to the doctor this morning.  No ear infection, and her lungs are fine.  She may have strep, and I'll know that tomorrow.  Or, he said, it could just be a virus that causes a 4 to 5 day fever.  Lovely.  Dave at work's little one Ian had something eerily similar last month.  So, something's going around.  I would not have felt left out if it had skipped right over Emma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If her fever continues past 5 days, the doctor said, it's time for blood work.  I can't even think about that.  What does that even mean?  They take some blood and look for....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt;?  Perhaps I don't want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope she recovers soon.  I feel so damn helpless.  All I can do is give her tylenol, water, and juice and hope for the best.  What a great Mom, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, Emma's awake.  Gotta go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114470326952694646?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114470326952694646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114470326952694646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114470326952694646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114470326952694646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/04/weekend-schmeekend.html' title='Weekend-Schmeekend'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114403704346262511</id><published>2006-04-02T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T08:55:25.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympics and Horses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/emma_ribbon.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/emma_ribbon.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lee Olympics were on Friday March 31st this year.  What fun, what fun.  Each year the school gets all the kids together and they compete in events like the bean bag throw, the three legged race, and the older kids have the long jump and other track and field events.  This is our second Lee Olympics, and they are just too much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see more photos, visit my &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/lee_olympics_06/index.html"&gt;Family Photos&lt;/a&gt; page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we went and visited &lt;a href="http://www.goldenvistaequestriancenter.com/"&gt;Golden Vista Equestrian Center&lt;/a&gt;.  Emma is going to be attending a 2 week day-camp here this summer.  She has some friends who take riding lessons, and has always been interested in horses, though she's also been a bit afraid of them.  We haven't been able to afford for her to take lessons every week, but thought we would be able to send her to a 2 week camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/horse_3.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/horse_3.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golden Vista was having an open house today, so we went to check it out.  It seems like a pretty nice place.  I know nothing about this sort of thing, but we spoke with the lady in charge, and she seemed to know what she was talking about.  They learn alot while they're at camp, and spend lots of time grooming, cleaning up after, and generally looking after their horse, in addition to riding it.  We met some girls who had been going there for a few years, and they seemed amazingly comfortable with the horses and were great at putting Emma, and us, at ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more horse pics on my &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/horses/index.html"&gt;Family Photos&lt;/a&gt; page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114403704346262511?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114403704346262511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114403704346262511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114403704346262511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114403704346262511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/04/olympics-and-horses.html' title='Olympics and Horses'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114314194063609689</id><published>2006-03-23T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T11:26:41.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Curling - no, not your hair</title><content type='html'>My college friend James Arroyo moved to NYC several years ago.  He loves it there.  He's adapted to the size of the city and the weather rather well.  However, I never expected this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hey folks, I just got back from a curling club in Ardsley and have been tapped to join the Israeli curling team.  Our goal is Vancouver in 2010(this isn't a joke).  We went to a bonspiel (curling tourney) last week and joined the country club today." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF?  Curling?  That sport on ice with brooms?  HUH?  Israeli team?  Olympics?  What the hell are you talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was pretty much the text of my e-mail reply to James.  Somehow, this Latino, Longhorn lovin', recovering Catholic from Austin, TX is going to be a member of the Israeli Olympic curling team.  Sometimes life makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, apparently they're making a documentary about their team.  The trailer is &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://homepage.mac.com/jtropeano/trailer.mov"&gt;on-line&lt;/a&gt;, if you're interested.  It takes a while to load, but I thought it was well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114314194063609689?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114314194063609689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114314194063609689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114314194063609689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114314194063609689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/curling-no-not-your-hair.html' title='Curling - no, not your hair'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114306603299082816</id><published>2006-03-22T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T14:20:33.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mundi News</title><content type='html'>Just in case you don't know, my husband Darrel is a musician and has a band called &lt;a href="http://www.mundiensemble.com"&gt;Mundi&lt;/a&gt;.  (They used to be called The Mundi Ensemble, but dropped the The and the Ensemble.  Don't ask me why, cuz he never told me.)  They play Renaissance Folk Rock.  I'm not exactly sure what that means, but it does sound really good.  And at least he doesn't play thrash metal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Austin Chronicle's 2005-2006 Music Awards, they were in 5th place for &lt;a href="http://www.auschron.com/gyrobase/Awards/MusicAwards?Year=2005&amp;mode=awards&amp;amp;MPCategory=Best%20Performing%20Bands"&gt;Best Instrumental Band&lt;/a&gt;.  A very respectable showing, I think.  Yay Mundi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the band is going on a 2 week tour of Spain this summer.  How cool is that?  Darrel found someone in Spain who books musical acts into small towns, etc. and he liked Mundi.  I was skeptical (don't tell D) that it would actually happen, but apparently, it's going to!  The Spanish fella has dates and everything all lined up for them.  Very exciting.  It'd be more exciting if I was going to, but maybe next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, buy the Mundi CD, come to Mundi shows, and generally support them so that they can buy their plane tickets!  Please!!!   They really wanna go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and they're making a CD with a Tibetan Buddhist Monk who lives in California.  How eclectic!  I live with quite the creative one don't I?  Lucky gal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114306603299082816?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114306603299082816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114306603299082816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114306603299082816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114306603299082816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/mundi-news.html' title='Mundi News'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114290645280835964</id><published>2006-03-20T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-20T18:00:52.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SXSW</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2006.sxsw.com/"&gt;SXSW&lt;/a&gt; was last week.  If you're in Austin, this is not news to you.  If you're in the music business, it's not news to you either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't gone to any SXSW events since wrist bands were, say $25.00.  Considering they were selling this year for $150.00, that means it's been at least 10-15 years.  Lordy, that makes me feel pretty damn old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, thanks to my addiction to &lt;a href="http://www.kexp.org"&gt;KEXP&lt;/a&gt;, I was interested in SXSW for the first time in a long time.  However, paying over $100 for a wrist band was not an option.  Luckily, there were plenty of free shows during the week.  I had no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KEXP was in town broadcasting live Wednesday, Thursday and Friday from the Austin City Limits studios, which is conveniently located about a block from my office.  They called for volunteers, and I answered.  I hung out there on Wednesday for about 3 1/2 hours giving out free stuff, directing people into the studio and to the bathrooms, talking to people and enjoying music.  I got to meet DJs Cheryl Waters and Kevin Cole, and they were amazingly nice.  I saw &lt;a href="http://www.editorsofficial.com/"&gt;Editors&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.tapesntapes.com/"&gt;tapes 'n tapes&lt;/a&gt;.  Both bands were fabulous.  Great station, great people, great music, great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a free house party on Thursday with Carrie.  There was free beer, dogs and children in the Maplewood neighborhood in East Austin that afternoon.  How much do I love Austin?  I wanted very badly to see &lt;a href="http://www.rockyvotolato.com/"&gt;Rocky Votolato&lt;/a&gt;, as I love his album Makers.  I was not disappointed.  He said he was not well, but you could have fooled me.  He sounded wonderful.  &lt;a href="http://www.thelongwinters.com/"&gt;The Long Winters&lt;/a&gt; were next, and though I didn't know much about them, I thought they were great too.  I'll be grabbing their CD once I get a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I called Robin and asked if she wanted to go to the free Town Lake show.  She was luckily game (thanks Robin!) and we headed out there.  I caught the end of the &lt;a href="http://blackalicious.com/"&gt;Blackalicious&lt;/a&gt; set.  I wish I had seen more.  They were amazing!  I held out through &lt;a href="http://www.spoontheband.com/site.html"&gt;Spoon&lt;/a&gt;, who were great as well.  By that time, I was feeling my age, and headed home.  Reports are that Echo and the Bunnymen put on a great show, and I guess I should have stayed.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we went to the Jane party downtown and a new place called the Beauty Bar.  More free drinks and free food.  Carrie, Robin, Shanna, Dana and I ate, drank, and did lots of people watching.  We saw some of Film School (good) What Made Milwaukee Famous (very good) and Of Montreal (also very good and super entertaining).  I wanted to stay around for Nada Surf, but Darrel and Emma were home from their spring break camping trip, I was tired and a bit tipsy, and decided I should be responsible and go home.  As I drove past Club Deville, I heard Clap Your Hands Say Yeah who were playing yet another free show (well $2.00) there.  Dang, if I had been younger, and had no responsibilities! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so ended 2006 SXSW for Angela.  I had a great time and can't wait until next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114290645280835964?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114290645280835964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114290645280835964' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114290645280835964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114290645280835964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/sxsw.html' title='SXSW'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114187787384994891</id><published>2006-03-08T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T20:17:53.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stitching is Sublime</title><content type='html'>Emma and I have been doing some embroidery lately.  Well, she's been supervising, and I've been stitching.  Our two pieces are finally finished, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/whole_kitty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/whole_kitty.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/1600/whole_dragon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5990/2377/320/whole_dragon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see some close up shots, go &lt;a href="https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/stitching/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114187787384994891?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114187787384994891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114187787384994891' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114187787384994891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114187787384994891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/stitching-is-sublime.html' title='Stitching is Sublime'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114178502331642790</id><published>2006-03-07T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T18:30:23.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pledge KEXP Now!!!</title><content type='html'>Thanks to the lovely Mindy Johnson, I was introduced to &lt;a href="http://www.kexp.org"&gt;KEXP&lt;/a&gt;, a fantastic Seattle public radio station.  I don't know how I had lived without it for so long.  They play a wonderful variety of music.  I had lost interest in most music several years ago, probably having something to do with becoming a mom and being married to a musician.  I felt there was little time or money to spend on new music and that I got enough at home.  Then KEXP dropped into my life and I'm all excited about music again.  So excited that when I heard they were coming to Austin for SXSW and broadcasting from the Austin City Limits studios two blocks from my office, I volunteered to help.  I can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't checked them out, you should.  John in the Morning's show, which conveniently airs from 8am - noon CST, is my favorite and gets me through even the roughest Mondays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're having the pledge drive now, and if you can spare some change, please consider it.  These people work hard.  I've e-mailed into the station, and have gotten a response back within, like, 15 minutes!  From a DJ who was currently on air!  How insane is that?  And who else would play Matthew Sweet, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Willie Nelson, and The The all in the same hour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that was my plug for KEXP.  Now go listen and give some cash, dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114178502331642790?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114178502331642790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114178502331642790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114178502331642790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114178502331642790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/pledge-kexp-now.html' title='Pledge KEXP Now!!!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114144280951904309</id><published>2006-03-03T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T19:26:49.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Central Market</title><content type='html'>I met Darrel and Emma at &lt;a href="http://www.centralmarket.com/cm/index.jsp"&gt;Central Market&lt;/a&gt; after work for dinner.  We hadn't been there in a while.  Emma loves the playscape.  I had an odd Cesar salad.  Every 5th bite tasted a bit strange.  I kept eating it, cuz the other 4 bites were too tasty to stop.  So far, I'm not ill or dead, so I'm sure it wasn't a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They changed their menu about, what, 6 months ago or so.  I preferred the old one.  The took off the kids macaroni and cheese.  Are they insane?  That was the best thing on the menu.  Emma loved it!  I loved it!  You can still buy it in the store, all ready to pop in the microwave and heat up, but for some reason, no longer in the cafe.  Makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate, Emma played, and then we fed the ducks.  And the turtles and the fish.  Those minnows are mad.  There were lots of red winged black birds perched on the reeds around the little lake.  We used to have them hanging around our backyard a couple of years ago, but I haven't seen them in a while.  They're all at Central Market, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma and I came home and watched Shrek.  A thoroughly entertaining movie, I must admit.  Darrel is out at a lecture being given by a Tibetan Monk who he is making a CD with tomorrow evening.  Darrel will also be away most of the weekend at a Buddhist retreat.  He's not really a Buddhist, but I suppose he's closer to that than to anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just re-read this, and good god it's boring.  Central Market, ducks, Shrek??  Wow!  If you're still reading this, you must have a life that's even duller than mine.  That's a shame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114144280951904309?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114144280951904309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114144280951904309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114144280951904309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114144280951904309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/central-market.html' title='Central Market'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114139909260628735</id><published>2006-03-03T07:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T07:27:36.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Math</title><content type='html'>Emma is 6 and will be 7 in April.  This puts her in the first grade at the fabulous Lee Elementary here in central Austin.  She loves school.  She is not a genius, but she is pretty smart and tries really hard.  First grade is alot different than kindergarten, and we all initially had a difficult time adjusting.  Gone is the focus on social skills and comments from teachers like "She is such a helpful child."  "She gets along well with everyone."  It is now time to get down to the business of learning, dang it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that is well and good.  The issue with Emma is that she is a little too tough on herself at times.  She gets frustrated very easily with things she cannot do perfectly.  She has also started comparing herself with her friends at school.  Last night, through tears she said, "But all my other friends can do it."  This was in reference to a practice math quiz that we were working on.  I tell her that doesn't matter.  I tell her that she will do it, maybe just not right now.  I tell her that I love her.  I try to tell her everything a good parent should during moments like these.  Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to help.  She feels no better, and I feel helpless and useless.  So what now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These moments have been occurring at various times since this school year began.  She's not the kind of kid to be ahead of the curve-to catch onto things before everyone else.  But, she &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;does&lt;/span&gt; eventually get it.  And when she does, she nails it.  She just needs to ease up on herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you explain that to a 6 year old?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114139909260628735?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114139909260628735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114139909260628735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114139909260628735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114139909260628735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/math.html' title='Math'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23256026.post-114126852464141099</id><published>2006-03-01T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T19:20:55.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post - EVER!</title><content type='html'>OK, so I've succumbed to the temptation and have started a blog.  Lord, what has happened to me?  Have I become so vain that I think people will want to know what is going on in my life?  Who would care but those who live in my little house?  Sometimes even that's a stretch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I can consider this my first diary.  A diary that anyone with an internet connection could read.  So, I'll try to keep it clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's up with the name?  Well, I was trying to think of something creative, witty and relevant to me.  I an neither creative or witty, so I was left with few options.  We are, however, big fans of Roald Dahl, and have an audio tape version of &lt;a href="http://www.roalddahlfans.com/audiobooks/gira.php"&gt;The Giraffe, the Pelly and Me&lt;/a&gt; read by Hugh Laurie that is brilliant.  So, why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are my wonderful husband Darrel and my beautiful daughter Emma.  Photos to come soon, promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be more to come, but for now, I must turn off this machine and spend some quality time with the husband.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23256026-114126852464141099?l=angrodmayers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/feeds/114126852464141099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23256026&amp;postID=114126852464141099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114126852464141099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23256026/posts/default/114126852464141099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angrodmayers.blogspot.com/2006/03/first-post-ever.html' title='First Post - EVER!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12204582941119422181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='https://webspace.utexas.edu/amr68/www/random/pics/ang_emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
