Side Effects

I know, too many posts in the last 10 hrs. I just have a lot to say for some reason. I think it must be because I am busier at work than I have been in months and when my brain gets going it cannot stop.

Last weekend I spent 3 days "in bed" being sick. Really "in bed" to me means holding still and wherever I stop to hold still is as good as bed. I am now on day 6 of my illness and it is still kicking my butt. The body aches that turned into headaches that became congestion and topped it off with a sore throat have been relentless. I am on a steady diet of Alka-Seltzer cold (orange zest), throat coat tea and pomegranate throat lozenges. I have however take a few hits of Afrin when I feel like the fluids in my head are slowly strangling me. If you have ever taken Afrin before you know that it feels like you are pouring acid into your sinuses and magically within minutes you can breathe through your nose again. I think that is because it has eaten holes in other parts of your head to bypass your stuffed sinuses.

I have only used this toxic chemical one other time about 3 years ago when it was slipped to me by Carolyn Clark-Smith Runner in a theatre in Tokyo. I was so miserable and we were teching 42nd Street so I had no choice, I had to sit propped up in my seat in the house calling the show and running rehearsals. Being that sick in a foreign country where you can't read the boxes of medicine and all you want is comfort food and bed but all you get is humidity and squid really sucks.

Carolyn kept coming over to make sure I was ok and on one of her visits she brought me Salad Pretz (I LOVE this stuff, it was the first things that made me love Japan) and Afrin. When she handed me the Afrin her voice got kinda low like she was trafficking serious narcotics as she said to me:
"Have you used this stuff before? It's amazing but you have to be careful with it, don't use too much and only use it once a day"

I still have the same bottle and it will likely last me a lifetime. Thanks Carolyn. As much relief as this little bottle brings, as soon as it wears off there is a flood of ugly substances that replace what you have been rid of for 10 hrs. Now, not only do you have holes in your head but they are filled with renegade mucus. Awesome.

While I sat wrapped in a blanket on the back deck Elliott and Kimball started major yard renovations. Kimball is not a good helper. Here you will see him bending over a hole where Elliott is fixing the sprinkler. In the hole is his squeaky bone that he just dropped in there for the 500th time. I was a little afraid it might send sweet Elliott over the edge because fixing your sprinklers isn't enough, you need a relentless wild animal demanding attention at the same time. Good helping Buddy.

What does "Fancy" mean to you?

Apparently (that is how Adrian opens any conversation in which she is going to give you bad news. Beware the use of this word when she is speaking to you) I use the word "fancy" a lot. In an e-mail exchange at work today I was challenged to better define this word so those around me can accurately interpret my meaning. Just for fun, here is what I found:

Doing my best to address your question I have had to take some time to research what “fancy” means to other people so I can better understand what it means to me.

According to Merriam-Webster: not plain : ornamental (2): swanky 2, posh b (1): of particular excellence or highest grade (2): impressive

According to Reba Mcentire: a satin Dancin dress that had a split on the side clean up to my hip. It was red velvet trim and it fit me good

According to Wikipedia: referring specifically to fancy dance: a style of dance some believe was originally created by members of the Lakota peoples around the turn of the 20th Century in an attempt to preserve their culture and religion at a time when practicing it was largely illegal

According to the AKC: http://www.bristoldanes.com/bella.html

According to Katieriggs: Anything new, shiny, crisp, inventive or exciting. Usually belonging to another party and being the envy of one, Katieriggs.

The Music of Old Walls

I am sitting at my kitchen counter unable to sleep and enjoying the sounds of my 100 yr old house. It is not often this quiet when Elliott is home because being on the same schedule means you are never awake when your partner is sleeping, it makes him think I am up to something. When I am in the house alone the music of the old walls sounds more like a horror movie than a lullaby so I try not to listen too closely but when Elliott is here the tune shifts and is much sweeter.
After writing that last paragraph I stopped to listen again to try and identify specific noise and this is what I can hear: The ice maker, the fan on Elliott's computer, the dog snoring, the rattle of a spoon under the fridge that I put there to keep the grill from rattling, a train whistle and the sprinklers. Not so much sounds of a 100 yr old house and not nearly as sweet to think about. Details.
I am actually sitting at my computer because I had to write my dad an email to apologize for not recognizing that it was his wedding anniversary today. I feel terrible. It is bad enough spending your anniversary without your wife but to not have your kids acknowledge or honor your marriage can make for a bad day.
So, dad if you didn't get my email, thanks for getting and staying married, dad. I am glad you fell in love, got married and had kids so we could torture you the rest of your life. I know now that being married is hard and being married to a woman has got to be nearly impossible so you (and Elliott) deserve some recognition. If I were there I would make you a pizza pocket and tell you how much I love you and how sorry I am you were alone today. I will do better, I promise. Much love, Kate

I love Utah

I really do love Utah. I have traveled all over the world, been to every state except Alaska and I choose Utah as my home. Last weekend Elliott took to the river for some male bondage and I had a wonderful weekend enjoying all the things I love the most about the Promised Land.

I took my first long ride on my new (really it is borrowed from Ashley of John and Ashley) road bike with Adrian leading the way, baby in tow up the Provo River trail. Gorgeous! Can I say enough about that canyon? I took for granted that I grew up 5 minutes from a spectacular waterfall and majestic mountain walls and this ride reminded me of how lucky I was. It also helps to be on a road bike. Fast enough that you aren't frustrated, slow enough to enjoy the scenery.
I had a few "incidents" as I learned (or didn't) to use the clips on the pedals. Note: My older sister did not rush to help when she found me laying on the ground, she is a good sister and documented my humiliation in real time. Good work, Adrian. AND Sydney thought that this ride and the park at the end were the greatest things. So many smiles.
This fall was the first of 2 that day. The next one hurt a lot more. Turns out that when you get big the ground is farther away.


I also went on a little excursion to fetch Timmy so he could spend some quality time with us and driving back to Salt Lake I was truck by this site:

I may not sema like much but as you drive Gram's route on Hwy 89 from the North you get this picture of the capitol floating in mid air with the snowy peaks behind it. I love it! I made Timmy stick his head out the top of the car and try to get some photos. The people behind us did not share our joy in this.

THEN, if you continue South on Hwy 89 to the very tippy top of State Street you get a perfect view of Salt Lake at its spring best. A vibrant green canopy rests over the street, muting all of the city noise. It is days like this that I remember why I live here. Lets be honest, now and again we all need a reminder.

Here is a little photo tour of last Sunday. It was such a good day.



From the hill looking down State St. I yelled at Tim because he missed the picture I really wanted. Sorry Tim.
The fancy Governor's mansion.

Kimball and Timmy, "livin plan B" (look at Kimball's teeth. WTF?)
My BUddy, my Buddy wherever I go, you're gonna go...

Kimball decided he hates the convertible so he pouted on the floor in the shade. What kind of dog gets tired of sticking their head out the window?

My Street. Sure is fancy and green.
Adrian, Amy, Sydney, Mabel and Timmy all came and worked in the yard planting flowers and vegetables. Sydney was mad. I mean really mad.

Good Sabbath, good sabbath.