can you find these things?

Just returned from this city in New Mexico.  Do you know where the Organ mountains are located?


Insisted we drive to this highway rest stop

Told my buddies we would see a giant stainless steel roadrunner

Hey…..lady! Are you watching for the rattlers? Be careful!

O.K…..maybe it’s not stainless steel

Can you find these things: spatula, belt, bowling trophy, sneakers, paint brush, comb, wire whisk, and black plastic hangar? C’mon…..try!

My friends were politely enthusiastic about seeing the unusual sculpture.  This was my reaction.

This was also my reaction when fellow blogger, T.J. gave me the Sunshine Award. Thanks T.J.! Hope the snow melts soon and I will pass it along to other sunshiny bloggers.

Did you find the items?  Where am I?

insomni-mania and Nascar

I want to marry Tylenol PM.  No kidding.  Having embraced my older athlete,  there is forever a freshly-pulled or sore ‘whatnot’ needing to be soothed.  This Nascar brain burning laps in my skull needs meds to re-lax. 

The hazy routes of Ambien, Lunesta, Valium, melatonin and Bach’s Rescue sleep have been thoroughly explored.  The prescription meds are fantastico and elusive sleep comes….but these things shouldn’t be taken every damned night……should they?  This is where Tylenol PM comes in handy.  It’s not a prescription-how BAD can it be?

As long as we are truth-telling, I’m solely responsible for keeping Tylenol and the PM prospering the last couple, few many years.  I’ve been downing the sleepytime candy for a……..uh,….long time.  It’s not as if I haven’t tried.  Some positive steps taken:

1.  Exercise.  I do it…hard.  Most every day.  I am fit and I am TIRED at bedtime.
2.  Don’t drink caffeine in the evening and eat a (generally) good diet.
3.  Go to bed at a regular hour.  The Texan has our lights set on a timer and they automatically go out at the appointed hour.  It’s like being in the military.
4.  Done the melatonin thing-big FAIL.

5.  Tried the alcohol/glass of wine remedy.  Enjoyed this, but woke up later with bad dreams.  I’m a  descendant of good, alcoholic stock.  This is no solution for me although I enjoy a good AA meeting.

You see, I can fall asleep but I wake up.  Early.  Like 2 or 3 a.m.  As wakefulness approaches, awareness of the Nascar mind comes into focus.  The racing dialogue last night was something like this:

la, la, la, laaaaa, (insert the WORST elevator tune one would love to forget-it’s not Moonlight Sonata!)…….why aren’t there any world-famous Canadians STILL living in Canada (after the Olympic closing ceremonies with William Shatner and Michael J. Fox)…is Canada that bad?……sweating, sweating, legs are sweating and sliding off one another….even Roxy-Doxy moves away…….feeling for her paws……aren’t dachshund feet the greatest?tail wag…..more botox, yeah, more botox and maybe that thermage stuff….sweating…..my back doesn’t feel so good……make the chiropractor appointment…..snowing outside?maybe it is snowing?……sweating, took the premarin, had a hysterectomy,why am I STILL sweating?!FREAK, maybe double dose estrogen tomorrow night?…..fa, la, la, la, LAAAA……Pioneer Woman, I want to be your friend……why didn’t you pick my kick-ass dog photo?…..Pioneer Woman, you suck!…you wouldn’t know a great dog photo if it bit you on the ass!….sweating…..exactly how long is forever?…..Shaun White has the reddest hair…..Carrot-Top of snowboarding……la, la, la…..

You get the drift?  I’m observing some seriously crazy-brain outside myself.  Weird.
Any-hoo….. to all 6 of my followers:  I’m givin’ up the crack….gettin’ the monkey off my back.  Attempting unmedicated sleep.  Embracing my inner whacked-out, sleepless self.  Lovin’ the me.  Could this be my normal?  Whatevs.

One piercing question still cries for an answer……why AREN’T there any world-famous Canadians who still live in Canada?  Let me know if you can think of even one.

really….Pioneer Woman...you are a blogoshpere goddess!

why I am like a pixel

Great events this weekend.  Mom’s 83rd birthday party Friday night.  We ate surf and turf. Here’s Joy

You keep on tweeting Craig Ferguson until he responds….O.K.?

I learned to do this with my Photoshop for Dummies book

Impressive, huh? See what you can look forward to if you keep reading this blog?

On Saturday evening I attended a lecture given by the author of The Shack, Wm. Paul Young.  I read his book some time ago and I heard he was a wonderful speaker.  He spoke on redemption and forgiveness….who can’t use more of that?  He shared with us his purpose in writing The Shack was to get folks out of their own particular religious paradigms when thinking about the love of God.  That’s why he made God ‘a big black woman’ in his book.  Mission accomplished.  He had some humorous insights into God and the whole male/female ‘thing’.  Paul movingly spoke of God’s vast love for his creation.  He said there is no one else on earth who can reflect God’s love in the same unique way as you can or in the same unique way as I can.  He made the analogy of each one of us being a pixel….like the little light points on a computer screen.  We each project our own special reflection of God’s love….and God’s love is so immense and immeasurable that it takes each person on earth to reflect the true picture of His love.  Wm. Paul Young’s story is astounding and he moved me.  If you ever get a chance to hear him-go for it.  Thanks Paul, for coming to share with us and here’s wishing you continued success.

Sunday brought church and some time with the middle sprout at the movie Crazy Heart.  Jeff Bridges was outstanding in this story of a washed-up, alcoholic country singer, Bad Blake.  The music was authentic (we KNOW our country music in Texas!) and so was the dialogue….yew allrigh?  yeah, ahm allrigh…….I’ve known some characters just like Bad in my life and it all rang true.  The daughter and I finished up Sunday with some time at the gym treadmilling while watching USA vs Canada in the gold medal hockey match.  Great game.  Ohhhh, Caa….naaaa…..daa!

That’s it. I’m inspired. I’m redeemed. I’m gonna be the shiniest pixel ever. Have a great week.