Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
It's not a "western weekend" until...
I'm no city girl by a long shot, but I don't think I've uttered the words "Can I please, please, please run around town in cowboy boots and flannel!?" since I was six and paraded around as a cowgirl for Halloween. Until this past weekend...
Drew and I, on the invitation of one of our "Hawkeye transplant to Colorado" friends, spent this past weekend in Saratoga, Wyoming. We, along with a handful of friends (four new - which is fun!), rolled slowly into town on Friday night through a blizzard to set up camp. Okay, not camp - there were hotel rooms. ;) Our intention was to attend the annual Chariot Race held outside of town - which we did - and partake in some cowboy fun. In truth I really had no idea what I was getting myself in to.
In a nutshell, this is how you do Saratoga, Wyoming (with a little help from our resident expert, Jon Nelson):
1. Accept invitation to join for a weekend of fun in small town America - ponder exactly what goes on in small town America.
2. Leave town in 55 degree weather. Watch temperature slowly drop as you head north along the Rockies. Insert falling snow, blowing snow, piling snow, and more snow - and 2 wheel drive (that's right!). We made it, obviously - no need to worry!
3. Arrive at the Mangy Moose local bar to meet up with friends for a caravan the last few miles to Saratoga. Have a conversation with a local who brings his dog in to the bar and watch as the dog proceeds to lick the floor and snuffle into corners. He says it keeps the food cost down...
4. Caravan and make our way to Saratoga - just in time to head out the local joint for a drink or two along with cowboy two-steps and country music as a "herd" of stuffed game watch from the walls (jackalope and two full mountain lions engaged in battle included!). Get some tips for betting on tomorrows races - but can we trust it!?
5. Sleep in, then grab breakfast with the gang and try to fit in - probably not successfully (as everyone inevitably overheard us talking about "trying" which in turn, well... Oh, you know what I mean!)
6. Grab some spirits to add to the much discussed hot chocolate sold by Boy Scouts at the races, and make our way four miles outside town to the track. Enjoy spirits (and hot chocolate), find a spot, and people watch with fascination until the races start.
7. Race after race we watch beautiful horses and fascinating people go crazy and pour their guts out in the hopes that their team wins. In the end it's all smiles as the town itself celebrates yet another year "at the races".
8. Continue the celebration back in town with a trip to the hot springs, drinks, conversation and an oversize chessboard (got my first real win) in the parlor of the Saratoga Inn.
9. Enjoy dinner and a show - which in this case was a real bar brawl that rolled out the saloon doors (yes, really) and into the street. Gallon hats and fist flying! Thankfully we were in the dining parlor and away from the action (but boys being boys - they had to go check it out).
10. Hit the hay (ha!) in order to wake up at 4:30am and get back on the road towards Denver. And (as if the snow had just kept on and there was no need to plow) it was 35mph the whole way back... Made it just in time to pick up Loui from the kennel and enjoy a catch up day before the work week!
A great weekend, and all thanks to our organizer, Jon. We'll see you all again next year!
Drew and I, on the invitation of one of our "Hawkeye transplant to Colorado" friends, spent this past weekend in Saratoga, Wyoming. We, along with a handful of friends (four new - which is fun!), rolled slowly into town on Friday night through a blizzard to set up camp. Okay, not camp - there were hotel rooms. ;) Our intention was to attend the annual Chariot Race held outside of town - which we did - and partake in some cowboy fun. In truth I really had no idea what I was getting myself in to.
In a nutshell, this is how you do Saratoga, Wyoming (with a little help from our resident expert, Jon Nelson):
1. Accept invitation to join for a weekend of fun in small town America - ponder exactly what goes on in small town America.
2. Leave town in 55 degree weather. Watch temperature slowly drop as you head north along the Rockies. Insert falling snow, blowing snow, piling snow, and more snow - and 2 wheel drive (that's right!). We made it, obviously - no need to worry!
3. Arrive at the Mangy Moose local bar to meet up with friends for a caravan the last few miles to Saratoga. Have a conversation with a local who brings his dog in to the bar and watch as the dog proceeds to lick the floor and snuffle into corners. He says it keeps the food cost down...
4. Caravan and make our way to Saratoga - just in time to head out the local joint for a drink or two along with cowboy two-steps and country music as a "herd" of stuffed game watch from the walls (jackalope and two full mountain lions engaged in battle included!). Get some tips for betting on tomorrows races - but can we trust it!?
5. Sleep in, then grab breakfast with the gang and try to fit in - probably not successfully (as everyone inevitably overheard us talking about "trying" which in turn, well... Oh, you know what I mean!)
6. Grab some spirits to add to the much discussed hot chocolate sold by Boy Scouts at the races, and make our way four miles outside town to the track. Enjoy spirits (and hot chocolate), find a spot, and people watch with fascination until the races start.
7. Race after race we watch beautiful horses and fascinating people go crazy and pour their guts out in the hopes that their team wins. In the end it's all smiles as the town itself celebrates yet another year "at the races".
8. Continue the celebration back in town with a trip to the hot springs, drinks, conversation and an oversize chessboard (got my first real win) in the parlor of the Saratoga Inn.
9. Enjoy dinner and a show - which in this case was a real bar brawl that rolled out the saloon doors (yes, really) and into the street. Gallon hats and fist flying! Thankfully we were in the dining parlor and away from the action (but boys being boys - they had to go check it out).
10. Hit the hay (ha!) in order to wake up at 4:30am and get back on the road towards Denver. And (as if the snow had just kept on and there was no need to plow) it was 35mph the whole way back... Made it just in time to pick up Loui from the kennel and enjoy a catch up day before the work week!
A great weekend, and all thanks to our organizer, Jon. We'll see you all again next year!
Monday, February 7, 2011
How NOT to enjoy Super Bowl Sunday!
Not that Drew and I had an spectacular plans for Super Bowl Sunday, but I was looking forward to a relaxing morning. Maybe a run (uphill - oof!) with Loui to Majestic View Park while Drew got in some basketball practice with the boys, then some baking, Hormel chili and cheese mixing (come on, once a year on this particular day we indulge in Hormel Chili and cheese!) and game prep. But oh no, this is how our day went (ahem - there will be no pictures - you'll see why)!
8am - Wake up to Drew saying, "Now run and jump on mama!" followed immediately by a woof and 75 pounds of wet, snowy dog on the bed. Good morning.
8:15 - Not feeling so hot but trying not to let Drew see it - I have no intentions of going to the doctor's today or any day! Kind of hard though when you're doubled-up and the bathroom towel is making a wonderful blanket. You know how that feels...
8:45 - Call for Drew who makes the executive decision - off to Urgent Care. After trying to pull out the truck and getting semi-stuck (overnight blizzard hence the snowy dog on the bed!) we decide to take the Jeep as the neighbor, already snow-blowing, looks on and waves.
9:00 - Cursing, skidding - we make it to Urgent Care to find them closed - until 10am. I am in no mood to wait at this point, so we ask the nearest people where the hospital is. I HATE the hospital. Luckily it's just down the road and we make it there without too much skidding (or cursing).
9:30 - Doctor walks in and says, "I think I can tell that you feel like sh*%." Uh huh - right on so far, as I'm laying there shaking uncontrollably, feeling like a fool but not being able to help it. In short order they have me in a state of significantly less pain - for which I'm thankful. The nurse has me swaddled in about 8 layers of warm blankets as my temp is about 97.
10:30 - Blood drawn, ultrasound taken - we're leaning towards an ovarian cyst that's ruptured since it's not appendicitis (the horror - that would be awful!) or any other infection they can find. Waiting for official results.
2:00 - RN Robert comes back from lunch to find us still waiting in the room. I'm more or less out of it, and Drew is trying to find a comfy spot for all 6'4" of him in the dinky little hard backed chair with no cushion. Robert looks pissed to still see me there, and tromps off to go tell the radiology unit to get a move on the official results. Doctor pops in a minute later with the same thought. Robert and the doctor both rocked - couldn't have been better.
3:00 - Results are in - a ruptured ovarian cyst, which according to the doctor, wreaks havoc internally. No surgery, nothing really to do about it except let the body absorb the ruptured fluid and clear itself out. The "girls" as he called my ovaries, will be just fine. Robert pops back in with my prescription and tells me to take it easy and not to eat anything rich or greasy (there goes the Hormel chili!). I tell him I'll hover over the relish tray during the game. ;)
4:00 - Home in time for a quick shower and the game...
And now we're back to Monday, and I feel almost too fine. As in, did I make that up? Drew sends me a convincing no (as he had to watch me go white-faced in pain - which is probably worse), but already my body is almost back to normal.
And that, folks, is how NOT to enjoy Super Bowl Sunday. Go Pack!
8am - Wake up to Drew saying, "Now run and jump on mama!" followed immediately by a woof and 75 pounds of wet, snowy dog on the bed. Good morning.
8:15 - Not feeling so hot but trying not to let Drew see it - I have no intentions of going to the doctor's today or any day! Kind of hard though when you're doubled-up and the bathroom towel is making a wonderful blanket. You know how that feels...
8:45 - Call for Drew who makes the executive decision - off to Urgent Care. After trying to pull out the truck and getting semi-stuck (overnight blizzard hence the snowy dog on the bed!) we decide to take the Jeep as the neighbor, already snow-blowing, looks on and waves.
9:00 - Cursing, skidding - we make it to Urgent Care to find them closed - until 10am. I am in no mood to wait at this point, so we ask the nearest people where the hospital is. I HATE the hospital. Luckily it's just down the road and we make it there without too much skidding (or cursing).
9:30 - Doctor walks in and says, "I think I can tell that you feel like sh*%." Uh huh - right on so far, as I'm laying there shaking uncontrollably, feeling like a fool but not being able to help it. In short order they have me in a state of significantly less pain - for which I'm thankful. The nurse has me swaddled in about 8 layers of warm blankets as my temp is about 97.
10:30 - Blood drawn, ultrasound taken - we're leaning towards an ovarian cyst that's ruptured since it's not appendicitis (the horror - that would be awful!) or any other infection they can find. Waiting for official results.
2:00 - RN Robert comes back from lunch to find us still waiting in the room. I'm more or less out of it, and Drew is trying to find a comfy spot for all 6'4" of him in the dinky little hard backed chair with no cushion. Robert looks pissed to still see me there, and tromps off to go tell the radiology unit to get a move on the official results. Doctor pops in a minute later with the same thought. Robert and the doctor both rocked - couldn't have been better.
3:00 - Results are in - a ruptured ovarian cyst, which according to the doctor, wreaks havoc internally. No surgery, nothing really to do about it except let the body absorb the ruptured fluid and clear itself out. The "girls" as he called my ovaries, will be just fine. Robert pops back in with my prescription and tells me to take it easy and not to eat anything rich or greasy (there goes the Hormel chili!). I tell him I'll hover over the relish tray during the game. ;)
4:00 - Home in time for a quick shower and the game...
And now we're back to Monday, and I feel almost too fine. As in, did I make that up? Drew sends me a convincing no (as he had to watch me go white-faced in pain - which is probably worse), but already my body is almost back to normal.
And that, folks, is how NOT to enjoy Super Bowl Sunday. Go Pack!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
My photogenic muse...
I picked up a business card the other day that had a beautiful picture of a golden retriever puppy on the front (more appealing to me than any fancy script!) and simple text on the back. I wondered, "What could they be advertising?" Turned it over and smiled at the thought of someone being a "pet photographer"!
Inspired, I made my way home and tackled my favorite photogenic muse - Loui! The ensuing blizzard-induced shots are sure to be a hit with family and friends. :) And of course, I'd be willing to take pictures of your favorite pet, too - but come on, do they all use their eyebrow tufts and ears quite to the extent of this chocolate lab? I think not. Kenz, perhaps.
Enjoy!
Inspired, I made my way home and tackled my favorite photogenic muse - Loui! The ensuing blizzard-induced shots are sure to be a hit with family and friends. :) And of course, I'd be willing to take pictures of your favorite pet, too - but come on, do they all use their eyebrow tufts and ears quite to the extent of this chocolate lab? I think not. Kenz, perhaps.
Enjoy!
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