Not bad, for a crappy camera, huh?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Ooh the Moooon!!
Got up at 2 am to check out the lunar eclipse. It was cool. I actually got great footage of it with the video camera, now I have to figure out how to attach the camera to the computer so I can email it.
While I had some time alone yesterday, I got to looking thru the video tapes stored in the living room cabinets. Not too many home movies, I'm sure those went with the ex when she left. But there was one that was interesting: Steve's brother's wedding back in 1996. Steve was the best man, and everyone had a mullett. Business in the front, party in the back. Yes, I know, most of the world had cut the mullett in 1996 but Havasu was a little behind the times at that point.
Not too many people had cable tv.
Fortunately, they were short mulletts so it wasn't too awful. But what I thought was funny was Steve's toast to the new couple. It was terrible. He was going thru his divorce with Sergeant Iron Pants (the first divorce--they got back together eventually--so they could divorce again.) and he was apparently depressed about it. (oh by the way she had a mullett too, and still does)
His speech reminded me of Adam Sandler in the Wedding Singer--when his crappy white trash fiancee left him at the alter and he consequently ruined everybody else's weddings that he was performing at. Steve's white trash wife left him so he made his toast at this wedding really pitiful. I wanted to reach thru the t.v. and choke him. "Hello! Have you MET her??? She's awful!!!!"
While I had some time alone yesterday, I got to looking thru the video tapes stored in the living room cabinets. Not too many home movies, I'm sure those went with the ex when she left. But there was one that was interesting: Steve's brother's wedding back in 1996. Steve was the best man, and everyone had a mullett. Business in the front, party in the back. Yes, I know, most of the world had cut the mullett in 1996 but Havasu was a little behind the times at that point.
Not too many people had cable tv.
Fortunately, they were short mulletts so it wasn't too awful. But what I thought was funny was Steve's toast to the new couple. It was terrible. He was going thru his divorce with Sergeant Iron Pants (the first divorce--they got back together eventually--so they could divorce again.) and he was apparently depressed about it. (oh by the way she had a mullett too, and still does)
His speech reminded me of Adam Sandler in the Wedding Singer--when his crappy white trash fiancee left him at the alter and he consequently ruined everybody else's weddings that he was performing at. Steve's white trash wife left him so he made his toast at this wedding really pitiful. I wanted to reach thru the t.v. and choke him. "Hello! Have you MET her??? She's awful!!!!"
Monday, August 27, 2007
A Pretty Normal Weekend
For the first time in a while, we had a normal Saturday and Sunday. We did stuff around the house, watched some movies and t.v. shows that we'd recorded with the Tevo, we fixed a couple of things in the garage, and we played on the computer. My son ran around the neighborhood with his cronies, and they played video games when it was too hot outside.
On Saturday night, I worked a couple of hours at a local sports pub as a Budweiser Girl. Me and the other two girls decided we should wear matching hooker boots with our Bud outfits, and I think that went well. The promotion was for a UFC fight, and it was definitely a UFC crowd.
Guys with sleeveless shirts and shaved heads. We worked from 7:30 to 10:00, and made $75 each. Not bad! We were literally treated like special guests because for some reason a lot of the people there thought we were from Bud Headquarters or something. One girl came up and shook our hands, "Nice to meet you, I'm Sharon!" Uh, okay....
We charged $6 per photo, and had fun with that. Signed autographs. What a scam.
On Sunday morning, Steve and I went outside to get the smoker ready. We were putting on a huge brisket for dinner. I walked past the pool to see if it needed cleaning, and I spotted a dead lizard in the bottom. As I went to grab the net to pull him out, I saw another lizard, but he was floating with just his head out of the water. Pulled them both out, chucked the dead one over the wall to the neighbor's yard and then got the living one into the sunlight so he could warm up. He was so cold from soaking in the water that he couldn't move. Including his tail, he was about a foot long. Steve and I petted him and stared at him while he warmed up. Ya don't get that opportunity too often because lizards run like crazy when you come near.
Our brisket was ready for dinner and we had a friend over to help us eat it. Shay gulped his down and ran back out to meet the gang.
At bedtime, we went thru the usual routine (get the humidifier going, get a glass of water, etc) and then hit the sack. About five minutes later I heard a noise in the living room and jumped up. It sounded like someone coming thru the back door. It was actually the cat, trying to catch a tiny mouse that he'd brought in from the back yard. Oh great, now I've got an injured mouse to track down. Luckily I got it quickly and threw it across the street. I'm sure it died from that impact, because I heard the little "thud." The cat was looking at me like, "Hey, that was my toy!"
On Saturday night, I worked a couple of hours at a local sports pub as a Budweiser Girl. Me and the other two girls decided we should wear matching hooker boots with our Bud outfits, and I think that went well. The promotion was for a UFC fight, and it was definitely a UFC crowd.
Guys with sleeveless shirts and shaved heads. We worked from 7:30 to 10:00, and made $75 each. Not bad! We were literally treated like special guests because for some reason a lot of the people there thought we were from Bud Headquarters or something. One girl came up and shook our hands, "Nice to meet you, I'm Sharon!" Uh, okay....
We charged $6 per photo, and had fun with that. Signed autographs. What a scam.
On Sunday morning, Steve and I went outside to get the smoker ready. We were putting on a huge brisket for dinner. I walked past the pool to see if it needed cleaning, and I spotted a dead lizard in the bottom. As I went to grab the net to pull him out, I saw another lizard, but he was floating with just his head out of the water. Pulled them both out, chucked the dead one over the wall to the neighbor's yard and then got the living one into the sunlight so he could warm up. He was so cold from soaking in the water that he couldn't move. Including his tail, he was about a foot long. Steve and I petted him and stared at him while he warmed up. Ya don't get that opportunity too often because lizards run like crazy when you come near.
Our brisket was ready for dinner and we had a friend over to help us eat it. Shay gulped his down and ran back out to meet the gang.
At bedtime, we went thru the usual routine (get the humidifier going, get a glass of water, etc) and then hit the sack. About five minutes later I heard a noise in the living room and jumped up. It sounded like someone coming thru the back door. It was actually the cat, trying to catch a tiny mouse that he'd brought in from the back yard. Oh great, now I've got an injured mouse to track down. Luckily I got it quickly and threw it across the street. I'm sure it died from that impact, because I heard the little "thud." The cat was looking at me like, "Hey, that was my toy!"
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...
Not that there hasn't been drama around here--there has--I just don't feel like writing about it today. Fortunately the drama doesn't include me!
Steve's birthday is in October, and I'm planning a big gathering for it. I've got a guest list of about 50 people, and I'm sure they'll all show up. I've been putting together ideas for this since March, because it's his 50th and I want it to be special. Finally, I got the location dialed in, the menu, and the activities--so that gave me some time to work on his presents.
He's out of town a couple of days each week right now, because of work, and that's given me the freedom to work on his presents without him finding out. I wanted to get him one of those fancy pants Segway scooters but I just haven't had the opportunity to save up for it. The one I liked was $5,000. Ouch.
While I was in the auto parts store a couple of weeks ago, they had a 3-wheeled stand up scooter that was much like a Segway, but it was a LOT cheaper. It was their display model so it was marked waaaay down. I snatched it up (with the help of the cashier--that sucker was heavy!) and took it to a friend's house to hide it in their garage. When I got a moment to take a good look at it, I was bummed to find out that it was quite scratched and scuffed up and the stickers were ruined from people bumping into things with it. I got the idea to take it apart and have it painted to match Steve's race car. He has a 1970 Maverick that he takes to the drag strip in the winter. It's bright yellow, and says Yellow Fever on the sides. Since this scooter will go 12 mph, it would actually be a perfect toy to take with us racing. He could use it to go down to the different areas of the track (since he doesn't have a golf cart and he has a bit of a problem getting around on foot) and he could look pretty cool doing it!
While that's being painted, I got on the internet to find a book. "The Last Mile", it's about the last 3 years of Steve McQueen's life. It's written by Barbara McQueen, his widow. I sort of met her once, earlier this year. She was a model in the 70's and OH MY GOD she is still very stunning. I remember when I first saw her I couldn't take my eyes off her because she was so striking. She and her husband spend their winters in Lake Havasu. I found the book, got it in the mail, then started to ask people if they knew how I could find her to get her autograph for it.
Nobody knows where she is because she travels in the summer. So I emailed her publisher, explaining what I wanted.
Holy CATS, the publisher wrote me back immediately, says she forwarded my email to the writer who helped Barbara write the book! She says, "Marshall is in direct contact with Barbara quite often, so he'll track her down for you."
I'll have to keep you posted on that little project....
Oh yes, and Wyatt Earp called yesterday. He wants to know if we're coming to his next performance. It's actually Wyatt Earp's great-grand nephew, and he does a "Play" where he narrates the story about the original Wyatt Earp. Steve found this guy through the internet a month or two ago, and they talk periodically. What's really funny about it is how much Steve grew up emulating Wyatt Earp. His family lived just a few minutes from Tombstone, where the gunfight at the O.K. Corral happened, and he knows the details of that whole story inside and out. We visited Earp's home in Tombstone earlier this summer, and a few weeks ago we drove down to one of his homes he lived in after he retired. Too funny.
Steve's birthday is in October, and I'm planning a big gathering for it. I've got a guest list of about 50 people, and I'm sure they'll all show up. I've been putting together ideas for this since March, because it's his 50th and I want it to be special. Finally, I got the location dialed in, the menu, and the activities--so that gave me some time to work on his presents.
He's out of town a couple of days each week right now, because of work, and that's given me the freedom to work on his presents without him finding out. I wanted to get him one of those fancy pants Segway scooters but I just haven't had the opportunity to save up for it. The one I liked was $5,000. Ouch.
While I was in the auto parts store a couple of weeks ago, they had a 3-wheeled stand up scooter that was much like a Segway, but it was a LOT cheaper. It was their display model so it was marked waaaay down. I snatched it up (with the help of the cashier--that sucker was heavy!) and took it to a friend's house to hide it in their garage. When I got a moment to take a good look at it, I was bummed to find out that it was quite scratched and scuffed up and the stickers were ruined from people bumping into things with it. I got the idea to take it apart and have it painted to match Steve's race car. He has a 1970 Maverick that he takes to the drag strip in the winter. It's bright yellow, and says Yellow Fever on the sides. Since this scooter will go 12 mph, it would actually be a perfect toy to take with us racing. He could use it to go down to the different areas of the track (since he doesn't have a golf cart and he has a bit of a problem getting around on foot) and he could look pretty cool doing it!
While that's being painted, I got on the internet to find a book. "The Last Mile", it's about the last 3 years of Steve McQueen's life. It's written by Barbara McQueen, his widow. I sort of met her once, earlier this year. She was a model in the 70's and OH MY GOD she is still very stunning. I remember when I first saw her I couldn't take my eyes off her because she was so striking. She and her husband spend their winters in Lake Havasu. I found the book, got it in the mail, then started to ask people if they knew how I could find her to get her autograph for it.
Nobody knows where she is because she travels in the summer. So I emailed her publisher, explaining what I wanted.
Holy CATS, the publisher wrote me back immediately, says she forwarded my email to the writer who helped Barbara write the book! She says, "Marshall is in direct contact with Barbara quite often, so he'll track her down for you."
I'll have to keep you posted on that little project....
Oh yes, and Wyatt Earp called yesterday. He wants to know if we're coming to his next performance. It's actually Wyatt Earp's great-grand nephew, and he does a "Play" where he narrates the story about the original Wyatt Earp. Steve found this guy through the internet a month or two ago, and they talk periodically. What's really funny about it is how much Steve grew up emulating Wyatt Earp. His family lived just a few minutes from Tombstone, where the gunfight at the O.K. Corral happened, and he knows the details of that whole story inside and out. We visited Earp's home in Tombstone earlier this summer, and a few weeks ago we drove down to one of his homes he lived in after he retired. Too funny.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Did I Mention It's HOT???
I (being a brainiac) didn't trim our palm trees until this week. It should've been done back in May, but I told myself it wasn't necessary. It's only about 116 degrees right now, down from July's average of 120, and there's quite a bit of humidity because we're in what's called the monsoon season. We get like 60 percent humidity (yes, I know, you think that's a joke) but 60% added to 116 degrees equals AFRICA HOT. There were a couple of times when I stood up and almost passed right out, from the heat. But, the trees HAD to be done. I've got a busy few months ahead of me and putting it off anymore would've been a big mistake.
There's 7 palms, and 4 of them are big. So I had to use a Saws-All to trim them and each tree yielded a 5 foot tall stack of frawns. (that's the branches with the wonderful fan at the end)
None of you have lived in the desert, so I'll explain palm trees:
Anything that flourishes in the desert (with the exception of Oleander Bushes) have big, huge thorns. The citrus trees, the bouganvilia bushes, agave plants, the bird of paradise bushes, and the wonderful mesquite trees all have thorns. They're 1" long and they stab you to the bone if they have the chance.
I know in pictures palm trees look so "aaaaaaah," like paradise, but up close they are bad mofos. The branches have gnarly, pointy spikes, all along the sides, and the green part is stiff and sharp on the edges. Each time I had to cut a branch I had to hold the saw above my head, because the trees are taller than 5 feet. Sometimes, I had to stand on the only thing I could find which was a bar stool from the garage, so I could reach the branches. I soon figured out it was a swivel stool and as I balanced myself up near the tree, the darn thing started turning!
Once I mastered the art of sawing while turning, things moved a little quicker.
I was thinking to myself, "Hey, I'm doing pretty good! I haven't gotten hurt yet!"
Then a palm frawn fell from the tree and stabbed my hand. One nice puncture, right into the meat. Hurt so bad my hand shook!
I got over it, began cutting again and soon another palm frawn fell into me. This time the spikes went into my right boob. I just stood there and waited for the blood to start. I didn't bleed too bad.
I bandaged everything and finished the job.
Later, as I told Steve about my boob puncture, I expected sympathy. Instead I got, "Oh, it didn't deflate, did it??"
There's 7 palms, and 4 of them are big. So I had to use a Saws-All to trim them and each tree yielded a 5 foot tall stack of frawns. (that's the branches with the wonderful fan at the end)
None of you have lived in the desert, so I'll explain palm trees:
Anything that flourishes in the desert (with the exception of Oleander Bushes) have big, huge thorns. The citrus trees, the bouganvilia bushes, agave plants, the bird of paradise bushes, and the wonderful mesquite trees all have thorns. They're 1" long and they stab you to the bone if they have the chance.
I know in pictures palm trees look so "aaaaaaah," like paradise, but up close they are bad mofos. The branches have gnarly, pointy spikes, all along the sides, and the green part is stiff and sharp on the edges. Each time I had to cut a branch I had to hold the saw above my head, because the trees are taller than 5 feet. Sometimes, I had to stand on the only thing I could find which was a bar stool from the garage, so I could reach the branches. I soon figured out it was a swivel stool and as I balanced myself up near the tree, the darn thing started turning!
Once I mastered the art of sawing while turning, things moved a little quicker.
I was thinking to myself, "Hey, I'm doing pretty good! I haven't gotten hurt yet!"
Then a palm frawn fell from the tree and stabbed my hand. One nice puncture, right into the meat. Hurt so bad my hand shook!
I got over it, began cutting again and soon another palm frawn fell into me. This time the spikes went into my right boob. I just stood there and waited for the blood to start. I didn't bleed too bad.
I bandaged everything and finished the job.
Later, as I told Steve about my boob puncture, I expected sympathy. Instead I got, "Oh, it didn't deflate, did it??"
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