This past weekend was Vacaville's first Middle Earth Festival and my own little fellowship gathered to celebrate. On Friday, we met at my house for a pre-festival festival. In hobbit style, we prepared way too much food. We barbecued shish-kabobs and grazed through salads. We raised glasses of homemade mead and toasted to Frodo. We played some Lord of the Rings Trivia and watched The Fellowship of the Ring.
I don't know about you guys but the time change is killing me. I had to pry myself out of bed with a crow bar this morning. I hit snooze twice and finally blundered out of bed at 7:15 am (which still feels like 6:15) and stumbled around the bedroom on unstable feet, trying my best not to lose my patience with the cats who were bounding around me like spring lambs, so excited that someone was awake to keep them company.
My lawn and my neighbor's lawn were the last two on the block that hadn't been mowed since the spring weather started. The rest of the neighborhood was clean and trim, with freshly planted pansies and petunias. Our yards had become foot high jungles housing creatures from the black lagoon. Today a three-foot long garden snake wove his way through the thicket and slithered right up to my husband. No joke.
It was clearly time to deal with this situation before the neighbors banded together and cordoned off our yards with police tape.
Check out the homepage for the School of Education at UC Davis (by Webmaster Shawn DeArmond! Hooray!) on this lovely first day of April. Check out today, because while it's a lovely page any day of the year, today it's especially wonderful and these alterations will be extinct tomorrow.
I've always been amused by pocket cultures - the cultures of very small groups. For example, the culture of a family or an office or a particular group of friends, or even of a town. (You can't live around The People's Republic of Davis and tell me that it doesn't have its own subculture.) It's the little inside jokes, language refinements, and social rules that makes a group of people unique, that make them belong to each other in some sense.
I finally posted pictures of The Great Tribble Incident of Easter 2005. Check them out.
I did some cleaning up and reorganizing on the blog page so you don't have to scroll through so much crap. I organized the blogs by month. It's all still there though.
It seems like everybody has that one attempted holiday meal that they never live down. Once at Thanksgiving my Uncle Steve put too much milk in the mashed potatoes. We all graciously thanked him for bringing the Cream of Wheat amid peals of laughter, and not a Thanksgiving goes by now that we don't recall this event as we pass around the mashed potatoes.
My spectacular blunder shall be known as The Coconut Chicken Cake Incident of Easter Dinner, 2005.
"I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
'Cause these words are my diary screaming outloud
And I know that you'll use them however you want to"
A lyric to song that's getting played way too much on the radio right now. I don't even know who it's by and I'm not over the moon about it, in general. I like that little patch of it though.
On Saturday morning I woke up to dreary light. I rolled over and stared at my alarm clock, willing the numbers to come into focus. After a week of early days at the office, I'm not quite sure where I'm supposed to be just yet. 7:00 am. Field work today? Think think think. Slow moving gears turn and click. No. Saturday. Sleep in? Think think think. No. Ballet this morning. I smile.
I've got a few name suggestions for the magazine title. What do you guys think?