Tiny Baby

Last month I saw giant elephants walking on the access road. This month, I found a tiny baby squirrel laying in the middle of a street in my neighborhood. I wonder what animal encounter next month will bring?  Please, no snakes.  

AutoMech

Chris and I went to a car museum.  There were lots of cars, and I took my time examining them until I realized that I was on one of four levels.  The museum had A LOT of cars, and one really cool pegasus.

Chris was particularly interested in the race car, probably because race car driver is his dream job, or maybe because he was examining the wall mounting system.

After looking at so many cars, I learned that old cars have cool details - lights that resemble lamps or eyes, curves galore, and tons of chrome.  I like old cars.

I also learned that the first electric cars were invented in the early 1900's and were considered vehicles for women and doctors.  They had feminine details like lace curtains and a flower vase.  I don't know why electric cars weren't popularized until the Prius, or why doctors drove feminine cars in the early 1900's.

While in the museum, I finally found a Ferrari that I would drive.  I never really like Ferraris before visiting the museum.  I think the problem was that I never saw multiple Ferraris lined up together. 

Chris found a model of his very first car.  Unfortunately, we didn't find the car he drove when I met him.  I guess a multicolored Chevy Cavalier without heating is not classic . . . yet.

Seaside

My cousin Seth called this a pigeon brothel.   I like it, so I must like pigeon brothels. 

Family Vacation

My dad's family reunited in the Seattle area last week.   My dad's family last gathered in July of 2000.

Twelve years later, our outward appearances had changed a lot!

One highlight of the reunion was a family beach walk on Marrowstone Island.  My uncle stuck his hands into the tide pools and pulled out all kinds of sea creatures.  We saw sea anemone, star fish, crabs, sea roaches, and lots of sand dollars.

While on the beach we met a very friendly little boy who told us that he had collected over 1,000 golf balls on the beach, that his dog saved him after a bicycle accident, and that he sells marshmallow roasters that he makes out of golf clubs and forks.  While shopping downtown later that day, I found this sign next to some handsomely crafted marshmallow roasters.  Maybe that little boy wasn't telling me tall tales after all.

Another highlight of the reunion was my great grandmother's memorial service, during which family members recalled funny and heartwarming stories about my great grandmother's 99 year life.  After the memorial service, my cousins and I played dodgeball in the church gym.  My dad even joined in the game, and I saw him run for the first time in years.  I think my great grandma would be happy that her family had so much fun at her memorial service.

On Saturday night, our final evening together, my cousins and I competed in a photo scavenger hunt.  When we returned from the scavenger hunt with nothing but our cameras, my grandpa told us that people didn't return from a scavenger hunt empty-handed in his day. We had to explain that our loot was digital.  After 45 minutes of heated judging by the "adults," my grandpa retreated to his office to tally the scores with his calculator.

When grandpa returned, everyone looked at him in anticipation.  With a captive audience, Grandpa paused and then said, "Now, I have just one more question..."  Grandpa!  He finally determined that my team lost the scavenger hunt by a mere 150 points.  

Overall, it was a very good family vacation.  My cousins are cool, and I hope that we don't wait another twelve years to reunite again.  

Back to the Basics

This weekend I learned how to start a fire with a magnifying glass.  It was a good weekend.

Cave Things

I went to Natural Bridge Caverns.  The cave formations at Natural Bridge Caverns were very similar to the formations I saw in Carlsbad Caverns a couple of years ago.  The theme in both caves? Wet, slimy, and lumpy.

For example, here is a cave formation in Natural Bridge Caverns:

And here is a cave formation in Carlsbad Caverns:

Natural Bridge Caverns:

Carlsbad Caverns:

The biggest difference between the two caves is the lighting, which of course was added by man.

Until a new cave can promise me something other than wet, slimy, and lumpy, I think I've seen my quota of cave things for one life.  

Urban Safari

Just another day waiting to enter the highway.  

I always yield to animals that can crush my car if provoked.  

Pathfinders

"In the end, it's not the years in your life that counts. It's the life in your years."

For one hour every wednesday, we met in a small room.  We learned about missionaries, worms, bible concordances, community outreach, snakes, pine cars, the books of the bible, plaster craft, soap carving, and much more.  

On the weekends, we camped.  Our last campout was a four day, three night trip with 3,000 other Pathfinders from all over Texas.  Here's what 3,000 campers look like:

Two of the teenage girls in our Pathfinder club rode in the car with Chris and I to and from the campout.  The highlight of the car ride consisted of a conversation that went as follows after one of the teenage girls made a comment about something obvious:

Teenage girl one: "biviously!"

Teenage girl two: "You always say biviously to me.  You don't even know what it means."

Teenage girl one: "I do too."

Me: "What does biviously mean?"

Teenage girl one: "It means...like...you know, when... I can google it...how do you spell biviously?"

Teenage girl two: "I think it starts with a b."

Teenage girl one: "No, I think it starts with an a. A-biviously."

Kim:  "Chris, these girls obviously do not know how to spell biviously."

With conversations like this, the car ride passed quickly.

After arriving at the campsite, we found our club camped out right next to the only shower facilities for 3,000 people.  At first, our kids were excited by the proximity to the showers.  When long, noisy lines of anxious campers formed the next morning at 3:45, the excitement was gone.  Tent walls are less than sound proof, which meant that we all woke up by 4:00 a.m. that morning.  Luckily, the rest of the weekend was so exhausting that few people had the energy necessary to stand in the shower line at 4:00 a.m.

The actual shower facilities were four truck trailers fitted with narrow shower stalls - 24 stalls to be exact.  Simple math reveals that 24 showers + 3,000 people = very short showers.  As I waited in line for my first shower, I was disturbed by the first rule on the list of rules outside each shower truck:  "Don't poop in the shower."  That rule existed only because someone pooped in the shower in the past.  I was so happy that I did not find anything brown when it was my turn to shower, but I did not like the empty bottle of poison ivy scrub on the shower shelf.  This was "biviously" left behind by some itchy, rash covered person who showered before me.  During that shower, I concentrated on not rubbing my bare skin on any of the shower walls.  

Our waking time during the campout was spent running between activities, preparing food, and convincing our kids that it was time to wake up/go to bed.  One night, I ate s'mores and played hide and seek in the dark.  One afternoon, we caught one of our boys in the girls tent.  Luckily, he was just helping the girls do their hair.  Seriously.  On Saturday, we emerged from our tents and three minute showers in dress pants and pressed shirts.  

By day four of our campout, I was exhausted.  I asked one of the kids if he was ready to go home. He was not, because he loves Pathfinders.  And despite my exhaustion after the campouts, weekly meetings, and everything in between, I love Pathfinders too because it means that these awesome kids comprised a large portion of the life in my year:

(Top: Taje, Matt, Anton, Brandon, Sayd; Bottom: Cameron, Tanya, Claudia, Rehanna)

Almost 100

My great grandmother passed away this month.  She was 99 years old and just weeks shy of her 100th birthday. 

My great grandmother told me that this is an awful picture of herself.  Later, she proved to me that she could still use an ab roller at 97 years old.  Any 90+ year old woman who can use an ab roller is beautiful to me.    

Thirty

Last month I was 29.  This month I'm 30.  

When you turn 30, special things happen.  Fresh flowers are the first thing you see when you wake up. 

Then, as you are leaving for work, you find extra sparkle casually waiting for you on your ring holder.

And after work, you are surprised with dinner on a boat with friends and family while floating the River Walk.

Turning 30 is superb, especially when you have a superb 30-something husband.  

DougArt

My friend and I went to a paint-your-pet painting class.  We did alright for a couple of attorneys.

One Year of Doug

Immediately after Chris and I adopted Doug, we took him to PetSmart.  For the first 30 minutes, he followed us around with a defeated look - head low, ears back, tail straight down.  Chris wondered if Doug would always be so boring. Then Doug saw a basket of tennis balls.

Doug's love for a ball is something you must observe to understand.  He will ignore all pain for a ball.  He will jump off a four foot porch for a ball.  He will try to crawl out a second floor window to retrieve a ball.  He will come to your house, disappear for three or four minutes, and then reappear with a ball in his mouth. He will play ball for six hours straight.  When a ball is out, Doug cannot relax.  Doug with a ball is the definition of obsessive compulsive behavior.  

Doug joined the Sias house one year ago.  In that time, I estimate that Chris and I have taken Doug to the park to play ball about twice a week.  I would estimate that each time he plays ball, he fetches and returns the ball at least 30 times.  That means that between Chris and I, we have thrown his ball over three thousand times during the past year, a very conservative estimate in my opinion.  

The life expectancy for a Jack Russell Terrier is 13 to 16 years, which means that Chris and I may very well play ball with Doug for another 11 to 14 years.  Over that time, we will likely throw Doug's ball 34,000 to 43,000 times.  I am happy to celebrate Doug's one year anniversary as a Sias, but thinking about the years to come makes my arm hurt.  

Fiesta!

I survived my second Fiesta, an annual eleven day celebration in San Antonio in honor of the Alamo.  Fiesta highlights this year include the half-taxi, half-cop vehicle parked outside NIOSA (Night in Old San Antonio).

Also a spectacle was the parking lot at my office one afternoon. The DJ under the stars and stripes tent started the party at two o'clock.  By the time I left work at five, the party included a limo.  

The King William Parade and King William Fair remains my favorite Fiesta event.  Last year at the King William Fair, Chris played a basketball shooting game and won a terribly tacky stuffed dog wearing Mexican flag shorts.

This year, Chris played the same game and won a shark wearing a red bandana.  

After the shark attacked Chris,

he traded it for two tacos.  

 Viva Fiesta!

Luminaria

Luminaria.  My favorite San Antonio event. 

The New Cool

I've learned a number of useful lessons working with Pathfinders.  For example, I've recently learned about swagg.   Swagg is a word the kids use to describe what's cool, but I think it's more than just a synonym for the word cool.  The kids often use the word beast in place of the word cool.

According to Urban Dictionary, swagg is "mostly known as style," a "unique part of what makes you different than the other players in a cool way."  I've learned that mismatched socks and cartoon-themed backpacks are swagg.

Our last Pathfinder camping trip entailed a lot of talk about swagg.  I mockingly asked Chris if one could have swagg by accident.  Later that afternoon, one of the staff members layered hoodies because he was cold.  The kids told the staff member that his layered hoodies were swagg.  Or maybe the kids said the staff member had swagg.  Quite honestly, I'm not really sure how to use the word properly, but I'm certain that improper use of the word is a sure sign that one lacks swagg.  In any event, I now know that one can have swagg by accident.

In all honestly, I don't really care if I use the word swagg properly or not.  It is not a word that I use on a daily basis, I do not like mismatched socks or cartoon backpacks, and I own only one hoodie.  I am happy, however, that the kids are comfortable enough to be themselves around me.  That's beast.

"Camping"

I like to go camping.  I like to go camping in beautiful places.  I really like to go "camping" in nice cabins with hot showers.  The last camping trip I took involved a beautiful place and nice cabins with hot showers.  It was awesome!

A crystal clear river ran along a cliff on one side of the camp.

The water was very tempting.

But the weather was cold, so we enjoyed the scenery from the comfort of our dry clothes.

It was a good camping trip.   

Spring Break Fever

Spring break has certainly arrived. One of my pathfinders, who is 14, asked me where I am going this week for spring break.  I told him that I am not going anywhere because I don't have a spring break.  He was shocked.  When I told him that adults who work do not have a spring break, he told me that his teacher has spring break.  I rephrased: Most adults who do not work at a school do not have a spring break.  He asked who I work for and then asked other staff members, "Did you know Kim's employer does not give her a spring break?!?!?!?"  

Living downtown has a lot of perks, but spring break is not one of them.  A deluge of vacationers has overtaken the river, sidewalks, and restaurants.  They are easy to identity - wearing backpacks and shorts, camera in hand, kids in tow. The crowds don't bother me so much.  What gets to me is the way they unknowingly flaunt their happy and carefree state of vacation as I drive to and from work.  I am overwhelmingly aware of how much I miss spring break.    

Pine Car Derby

The pathfinder club I work with recently participated in an area wide pine car derby.  As the boys designed flashy race cars, I took a more feminine approach.  After many hours of work, I am proud to introduce you to the Barbie car:

In case you don't know, the car started as this:

Now you're impressed, right?!?!? 

Not surprisingly, Chris played a major role in building the Barbie car.  Without his skills and attention to detail, the car would look substantially less impressive. Substantially.

On race day, Barbie lined up next to her rival, the only other car built by a staff member from our pathfinder club.  

During one of the heats, Barbie's rival lost a weight.  The weight landed in Barbie's lane, causing her to spin out of control and look like nothing more than a pretty blonde who can't drive.  Luckily, the judges discovered the debris on the track and re-ran the heat.

Did Barbie advance past the first round of races?  Of course not.  She was built for beauty, not speed.  Barbie didn't even win the best-in-show trophy, a title normally associated with Barbie's image.  She's okay, though.  Best-in-show appropriately went to one of the kids who built a marine-life themed car, complete with glittery aqua waves and a plastic dolphin.  Barbie knows the race was really about the kids. Staff members like me were just happy for an excuse to relive our childhood for a day.

Poo-Poo on You

I walked Doug at the park last weekend.  It rained the night before, so the sandy pathways in the park were damp.  An apparently love-crazed pre-teen took advantage of the wet sand and used a stick to proclaim her love for Justin Bieber.  I laughed at the message.  Doug then walked over and pooped right on top of the sandy love note.    Good boy, Doug.  Good Boy.

Hit-and-Run?!?!?

A couple weeks ago, Chris and I  managed to arrive home from work, walk the dog, eat dinner, and clean the kitchen by 7 p.m.  We were anticipating a quiet evening at home, but before we could relax the fire alarm sounded. Because false fire alarms are somewhat regular in our building, we calmly collected our dog and walked outside with our neighbors.

Instead of standing around to wait for the fire department, Chris and I decided to walk the dog.  We rounded the corner on South Alamo street, walked about a block, and stopped for a minute. When I turned around, I saw a car driving backwards across South Alamo street with the driver's side door wide open.  I also heard a man yelling for help.  I was shocked to see the man lying on the ground, wedged behind the front tire on the driver's side of the car traveling across the street.

Chris and I ran toward the car as it dragged the trapped man across the pavement.  As we arrived at a gas station across the street from our apartment, the car rounded it's way into the gas station parking lot and gained the momentum necessary to drive over the man wedged behind the tire.  As the car rolled over the man's lower body, the man uttered horrible moaning and groaning noises.  The car then left the man behind, right in front of Chris and I, and continued to drive in a circular pattern around the gas pumps and out of the gas station parking lot.  

Believing that hit-a-run was in the making, Chris ran after the car.  I remained with the the man, who was lying on the ground and asking me to help him stand.  I kindly declined his requests, assuming that he should first wait for clearance from qualified medical professionals.  I glanced up at the car and noticed that it was continuing in a circular pattern and was again headed toward the man on the ground. I suddenly wanted the man to move, but there was no time.  Luckily, the circular pattern of the car's path was narrowing and the car drove past the man on the ground as it entered the gas station parking lot a second time.  As the car drove by, I looked inside the open driver's door and realized no one was in the car! 

The out of control car continued to drive backwards in a circular pattern around the gas pumps and out of the gas station parking lot.  Chris thought about jumping in the open driver's side door, but the car was moving too fast.  Instead, he ran across the street to the firemen assessing the false fire alarm in our building.  As he ran, I began to realize that the car, which was in the street and headed for the gas station once again, was headed for the gas pumps.  As fast as I could think about my proximity to a potentially large explosion, the car circled into the gas station parking lot and slammed into a concrete post at the end of the gas pumps.  The car came to a sudden halt with a loud, crunching sound.

Within minutes, Chris returned with the firemen from across the street.  The fireman assessed the man on the ground.  I realized that the man was elderly, at least 70 years old.  I overheard the man state that he thought his car was in park.  The gas station attendant, who yelled and panicked throughout the whole incident, said he saw the old man fall out of his car.  

After about 20 minutes, the firemen finished with the old man.  The old man stood up and began walking toward his car.  I walked to to the old man and asked if he was okay.  He stopped and glanced at me.  I noticed that his sweat shirt was twisted and one of leg of his sweat pants was scrunched up to his knee.  The old man told me that he was fine, and did three or four slow motion lunges as evidence.  Unable to argue with him, everyone watched as the old man continued walking, sat down in the car that ran over him 30 minutes earlier, and drove away. 

So much for a quiet, relaxing evening...