Bandelier National Monuement

While we were in New Mexico this week, my Beloved Curmudgeon and I decided to go see Bandelier National Monument.

I think it was the word 'Monument' that threw me off. I was expecting a 'monument'. A statue or something like that to look at.

Also, in my defense, I will say that it was a spur of the moment decision to go and since it was a 'monument' I didn't think to change clothes or shoes before we went.

Up until that day, actually up until the moment we set off on this adventure, the weather in New Mexico had been great. No problems. It was something like 89 degrees, but felt like 70 degrees. To a Southerner who is used to 90% humidity it felt cool.

However, once we took off into the wilderness (and I do mean wilderness) to find the Bandelier National Monument, the clouds turned dark and there was suddenly a cold (and I do mean COLD) rain. Pouring rain.

The temperature dropped to 50 degrees in what seemed like minutes. There was hail and sleet and the biggest drops of rain I have ever seen in my life.

Being from the South, as soon as the hail started hitting the car I thought, 'TORNADO'! If you are familiar at all with the New Mexico landscape, you might can imagine how this little Southern heart sank when I looked around for shelter from the tornado that in my mind was certainly in the vicinity.

There was nothing. NOTHING! As far as the eye could see. And the eye can see a very long distance in that area.

When we got to the park and were coughing up the entrance fee, I asked the Park Ranger about tornadoes. She said they don't have tornadoes there. Much to my Beloved Curmudgeon's amusement, I unthinkingly responded, 'But it's hailing'. She looked out of her little building and then looked at me and said flatly, 'yes it is'. Period.

Okay, they don't have tornadoes there.

We proceeded into the park and towards what I thought would be a 'monument'. I think the winding, very high road would have been spectacular had we been able to see the view. But it was pouring so hard and the sound of the hail pelting the car was so loud all I could think about was not running off the road.

As a little aside here. If I ever get nervous about running off the edge of one of those really high windy roads around here My Beloved Curmudgeon always reassures me by telling me that the forest is so thick the trees would catch you before you got very far down.

There are very few trees on the Northern New Mexico mountains. There is nothing between you and the very steep, very far drop off just beside the road and shoulder of very loose dirt. I did think of that a time or two during this trek over the mountain.

On to Bandelier.

When we winded around enough we finally got to the visitors center. We sat in the car and looked at it. There were signs that we could see through the rain about the start of a hiking trail.

Hiking trail!!!!I like hiking trails, but not in heels. [see 2nd & 3rd paragraph] And not when it's pouring freezing huge pelts of rain when I am dressed in summer slacks and a flimsy, sheer shirt covering a thin shell top.

So we sat there.Beloved Curmudgeon was beginning to live up to his moniker, the curmudgeon part. I was thinking we drove all this way, paid to get in and now we are going to sit in the car and look at a building through the rain. I was getting a little not so nice myself, hard to believe I know.

I determined that I would buy a sweatshirt if they sold them in the gift shop and suffer with cold feet. I accepted my heels would be ruined. So we went in.

They did have sweatshirts (at $50 each). We browsed around the gift shop a little and as we were getting ready to leave the rain stopped and the sun came out! I put the $50 sweatshirt back on the shelf.

There was a couple standing under a shelter just outside the gift shop. They were supervising a group of about 15 pre-teens who seemed to be on some sort of school outing.

At the very moment I opened the door of the gift shop, the man of the couple firmly chastised the youth group by saying, 'Settle down, y'all are acting like a bunch of wild Indians.' Actually, I think he said 'you guys' instead of 'y'all'. He had a distinct mid-western accent.

The two 20-something young women behind the gift shop counter looked up, the man looked chagrined and I stifled laughter.

Neither of the 20-something young women looked wild in the least, but they were certainly Indian.

A good thing about New Mexico is that when it quits raining, it really quits. It almost instantaneously dried up. It was like it hadn't been raining at all and there was no lingering humidity. It literally immediately cleared up and dried out.

We sat out on the trail. High heels and all.

I commented to my Beloved Curmudgeon that it was very thoughtful of these pre-historic Indians to set out such nice, easy to walk on trails for us. Not only that, but periodically there were adobe/cement benches for us to sit on. Beloved Curmudgeon just condescendingly said, 'uh huh.' He doesn't think I'm nearly as funny as I think I am!

When we got to the top of the highest point the path would go, I just had to climb up one of the ladders into one of the caves in which the Anasazi people lived.

One doesn't drive that far, braving the elements, then hike that far and climb that high in heels and not take the next step of climbing into one of the caves.

So I kicked off my heels and climbed the ladder in my stocking feet. I crawled around inside the cave and explored as far as I could.

When I was leaving and approached the opening of the cave, the massive mountains across the valley came into view. They were very high and I suddenly realized I could see the top of them from my crouched position inside the cave.

I had one thought in my head. '!!!!!!!!!!'. That was it. '!!!!!!!!!!', I thought.

It's one thing to get up there; it's a whole other thing to get DOWN.

I went to the opening of the cave and looked down at the hiking trail. There wasn't a soul in sight. Most notably, my Beloved Curmudgeon was not in sight.

As aggravated as I get with him from time to time. At times like this I really want him to be there. So I carefully scooted closer to the edge until I was close enough to look straight down. One has to look straight down to see the very vertical ladder one had just climbed up (like the fool one is at times).

I had a momentary lapse of reason and hoped he'd be standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting to help me down. He wasn't. No one was there. Just that very vertical hand made wooden ladder.

Again, my only thought was,'!!!!!!!!!!!!'.

I've lived long enough and gotten into enough jams to know that it's best not to give this sort of thing too much thought. Thinking about it only exacerbates any feelings of panic and panic exacerbates the difficulty of the situation.

So without thinking anything else, I flipped around and felt with my toes for the ladder. Looking back I should have taken my trouser socks off - but never the less, I got down fine and jogged down the trail to find Beloved Curmudgeon. He was waiting for me on one of those convenient adobe/cement benches by the trail.

The Bandelier National Monument really is a fabulous site to see.The fact that this cave dwelling pueblo was built between the 1100s - 1400s makes it even more remarkable.

If you ever get the chance I highly recommend it, just don't wear high heels.

Parenting Job Description!

PARENT

POSITION: Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop

JOB DESCRIPTION:

Long term, team players needed, for challenging Permanent work in an often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities! Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

EXPECTATIONS/RESPONSIBILITIES:

The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets, stuck zippers, And third grade math. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product. Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT; PROMOTION:

None. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE:

None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis..

WAGES AND COMPENSATION:

Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.

BENEFITS:

While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right..

Forward this on to all the PARENTS you know, in appreciation for everything they do on a daily basis, letting them know t hey are appreciated for the fabulous job they do ... o r forward with love to anyone thinking of applying for the job.

** AND A FOOTNOTE?

THERE IS NO RETIREMENT -- EVER!!! **

If you are fortunate enough you will become grandparents

There Are Uses for Dogs in the House

Dogs serve many purposes. They protect us, love us unconditionally and do stupid things that make us laugh.

They have a lot of faults. They stink things up, rub up against the wall and leave marks that have to be scrubbed off, drool on the carpet, nudge the back of the newspaper when you are trying to read it and much, much more.

Tonight I found another good reason to put up with all the aggravation they cause though.

If you drop a raw egg on the floor and have to go across the kitchen to get some paper towels, wet them and come back to clean it up. By the time you get back to the refrigerator to clean up the egg, the dogs have already cleaned it up for you. Shell and all.

They'll stand there licking their lips with innocent looks on their faces and believe they have tricked you into believing they didn't lick up the egg. You will semi-scold them but secretly be happy they licked it all up.

They do have their uses.

Children See, Children Do

This powerful and thought provoking video was produced by an Australian children’s rights organization to bring attention to the role modeling adults provide for children. It really does make you stop and think about your behavior. Its certainly something to think about.

I Got Some More Pictures From My Son's Wedding

I've managed to get my hands on a few more pictures from my son's wedding last December. The pictures I posted before are here. The photographer is my daughter-in-law's sister's boyfriend (there has to be an easier way of saying that!). His website is CB_PIC_ART. I think he did a fantastic job with the photos. He took over 400 (if I didn't misunderstood them since they were talking in German combined with broken English). I want to see them all, but I'm so far away I'm having to take them as I can get them!

They were married at the Schloss Thiergarten. It was built in 1725 as the hunting lodge for Margrave Friedrich. When we took a tour of the Plassenburg castle, which was built in 1135 for Bishop Otto of Bamberg, we learned that at some point the line of the Hohenzollern family that had inhabited the castle for generations ended. Therefore, another branch of the family that had control the area around Berlin sent a cousin down to take control of Plassenburg castle and all the surrounding fiefdom. That was Margrave Friedrich and his wife Wilhelmine who was a sister of Frederick the Great of Prussia.

Well, Friedrich and Wilhelmine thought they'd come to the end of the earth in this, what was then, remote 'country' place. Even though its one of the largest, if not the largest, castles in Germany (I can't remember), they didn't like staying there. They were city people after all. To make matters worse, they didn't particularly like each other. So Wilhelmine spent a lot of time in nearby Bayreuth and spent an enormous amount of money building some of the most ornate and beautiful buildings in the Franconia (now Bavaria). She had the Bayreuth Opera House built. We were allowed to spend about $20 per person to spend about five minutes in the opera house while we were there. It is spectacular, even though very expensive for a walk through. Wagner played there but thought it was too small for his music.

Another of the properties Wilhelmine built was the Schloss Thiergarten (Schloss is German for Castle. I *think* Thiergarten is 'the garden' - so that would be the Castle of the Garden (or since they word things backward from us it would be 'The Garden Castle') - if you speak German please don't make fun of me!). We were told in our tour of Schloss Plassenburg that Schloss Thiergarten was built as a hunting lodge for Wilhelmine's husband, the Margrave Friedrich. I imagine she liked having him busy doing his thing there so she could do her thing in some of the residences she had built in Bayreuth.

Now. That HAS to be more than you wanted to know about that little hunting lodge castle. So on with the pictures ....

Michi was having a good time .....

Darling Daughter and Her New Dog

My Darling Daughter has gotten herself a new dog. AS IF she needs another thing to worry about. I admit though, she seems to really be enjoying it and the dog certainly seems happier than its probably ever been in its entire life! She has spoiled this dog. Its pathetic ....

See what I mean? That's the little creature sleeping on my daughters bed as though she's human. My daughter sends me these pictures via her cell phone and pretty much insist that I oohhh and ahhh over the dog. I'm surprised she doesn't have it in a car seat! LOL

Random Thoughts on Marital Bliss

My Beloved Curmudgeon and I have a reasonably happy marriage. Most of the time we get along well, enjoy the same things, have basically the same views (I'm not quite as hard-core as he is), think the same things are funny and have the same cynical outlook on life.

In between those times we tolerate each other as best we can.

The content times last longer now than the 'why am I putting up with this?' times. There have been times, over the years, that it was the other way around. Maybe as time has gone by we've both mellowed out a little and gotten a little more accepting of each other's eccentricities.

I have learned a few things along the way about marriage. So I'll pass along a few of my little pearls of wisdom ... (Lucky whoever is reading this!)

From the beginning I noticed that he and I are at approximately the same level of sloppiness. We are pretty much equals in the amount of messiness we can stand.

As I was piddlin' around the house this weekend, straightening and cleaning I was struck with that reality once again.

We both work more than full time in demanding, stressful jobs. Neither of us feel like cleaning and scrubbing when we get home. So I do most of my cleaning on the weekend. But I can't avoid the fact that in the last few years that my housekeeping has definitely gone downhill.

I should hire someone, but I have to get the house clean enough to hire someone to clean (g). So I still do it myself.

Whenever I start cleaning, he gets up and empties the trashcans. It doesn't matter how much is in the trashcans, it can be one single piece of paper. But he'll go around the house emptying all the trash cans. Equal labor???

I think he feels he should be doing something since I'm cleaning.

So for today's little pearl of wisdom:One of the keys to marital bliss is compatibility in the amount of slovenliness that is acceptable to both parties in the relationship.

goede nacht

We Are Loving Germany!

We are having a blast in Germany. We got here in the early morning hours last Thursday and after getting lost in the Frankfurt airport and somehow circumventing customs and coming out on the wrong side of the arrival terminal, we found our son (or he found us) and we started making our way back to his city via many stops en route. It was absolutely wonderful seeing him and his fiance and immediately getting a tour of a couple of German towns before we got back to his apartment.

The second day we were here (I think ... cause time is completely out of whack for me!) we went to Rothenburg. One of the cultural differences that has really struck me here is that regardless of how cold it is outside ... and cold only begins to describe it ... people still get out and go places and do things OUTSIDE! My first real taste of that was our day in Rothenburg ob der Tauber (that means that this town of Rothenburg is the on that is above the Tauber River. Apparently Bavarians might have several towns with the same name and distinguish one from the other by where they are located. This one is distinguished from the others because it is located above the Tauber. Now you know!). Rothenburg is an ancient, medieval town that is well preserved, has survived many wars and continues to thrive.

As anyone reading this surely knows, it is one thing to know something intellectually and something altogether different to know it through close observation. Our day in Rothenburg impressed upon me the very different sense of history and time that Europeans have from those of us who have spent our lives in the 'new world'. There are buildings in Rothenburg that were built in the 1400s and 1600s. Those buildings have stood and are still in use since long before Western man had a clue that the Americas even existed. They still believed that the world was flat. Just think of the history that has transpired since the day someone decided to build those buildings and build the wall around that town. Their perspective is much longer than ours in more ways than one.

As I mentioned, the German's don't stay inside when its cold. I lived in Michigan for a few years and really kind of expected it to be cold in much the same way it is in Michigan. Its not. At all. We are woefully unprepared for the cold and have had to buy more to keep warm because we are spending most of our days and evenings outside in spite of the minus 2,000 degree weather. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I'm not sure its much of one. My poor Southern bones are just not used to being this cold.

We spent all day and well into the evening outside, enjoying the sites and sounds of Rothenburg. And it wasn't just us crazy people. The place was full and everyone was walking around, enjoying the Christmas market, enjoying the shops and doing tourist-y things in the frozen place. They even put their babies in strollers and take them out - thickly wrapped in some German material that has a super sekret ingredient for warmth. 'How do they stand it', I asked my Beloved Curmudgeon, with chattering teeth and shaking bones. He said they are used to it. Its their culture, he said. They just don't let weather stop them from what they are doing. Oh.

At one point we go into one of the horse drawn open air carriages for a pleasant tour of the town in minus quadrillion degree weather. The driver of our carriage could have just walked straight out of central casting. He spoke to us in German and when he saw our blank stares, he spoke in English. His English was good as far as it goes. He was obviously accustomed to English visitors. Imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger's accent and multiply that by 100 and you will have some semblance of an idea of how this man sounded. His red hair was cut short in what appeared to be some sort of buzz cut, at least what I could see of it under his hat. He had the complexion and demeanor of a man who had spent most of his days exposed to whatever elements God provided from day to day. I imagined that hard work without complaint and hard were his lot. I imagined that was just fine with him.

He told us the outrageous price for a thirty minute carriage ride through town enhanced by his guided tour. We turned over the Euros and got into the back of the buggy. I greedily pulled a heavy woollen blanket over myself and offered to share a corner of it with Beloved Curmudgeon. Beloved Curmudgeon took what I offered, which wasn't much I'm ashamed to say. My Soldier Son and his fiance climbed into the other side and under another blanket. Somehow that blanket offered an unbelievable amount of warmth. I wondered if they made wool thicker in Germany. The horse chose that moment to urinate on the sidewalk. Our driver/tour guide said something to the effect that we would have to wait on the horse as he must clean up his pee. He went to the back of the carriage and pulled out a large container and once the horse was done he poured the contents of the container on the pee and then we began our tour. As the driver got back up into the carriage I commented on the cold. The wind was blowing and the only warm part of me was what was under that wool blanket. He looked at me quizzically and stated, 'It is winter'. Why yes, it is. That was the end of that.

As we went along our driver would point out sites of interest, such as ancient torture chambers and places of hanging and punished those who needed public humiliation to keep them in check. He seemed to enjoy describing these techniques to us. Maybe I just imagined that, but I don't think so.

Both of the horses pulling our wagon had to stop and ... how do I put this delicately ... answer the call of nature. This called for the driver to stop, grab a bucket and put it up to their rears to catch the waste. It was not a pretty sight or pleasant smell. My son thought my reaction was hilarious and only made it worse by making funny remarks. He was sitting further back than me. They were right in my face. The second time this happened it was the horse right in front of me and our driver seemed to enjoy that my son and husband were making viscous fun of me while I tried to catch my breath somewhere ... anywhere ... away from the smell. As he held his bucket behind the horse and turned more or less in my direction he remarked that the shop on the corner right next to us was a great place for very large sausages if we were hungry. He described the sausages in detail with a twinkle in his weather worn eyes. I looked at him to try to determine if he was joking or completely oblivious to the sight and smell that was permeating the entire wagon at this point. I didn't want a sausage right at that moment.

As the day went by it became more and more obvious to me that the Germans don't let the weather interfere with their good time and have a variety of ways to keep warm. The market place was full with happy and festive people. St. Nicholas was there digging through his knapsack for gifts of brochures to give out to whoever. The night watchman walked the grounds in black robe and carrying a long wooden double bladed axe that was a very convincing crime deterrent. My husband and son climbed the highest tower and saw the world from that height while we watched from below.

By the end of the evening, even though I was still chilled to the bone long after we had returned to the warmth of my son's apartment, I understood why the German people go out regardless of the weather. They, at least the Franconians, are a people who enjoy life and find any excuse whatsoever to have a festival. In fact, as best as I can determine, they have festivals all the time. By the time we went to the local Christmas market (again) last night, I wasn't so cold. We stayed till it closed, had a fantastic time, meet a lot of random people, I laughed till my face hurt at stories told in German that I couldn't understand but were still funny and I didn't feel all that cold. I've discovered some of the secrets of the locals to keeping warm. It really is a lot of fun. We are just loving it here!

We are leaving for Munich in a couple of hours for a couple of days. I just wanted to steal a few minutes to say hello and write a quick update. I know my son will have us up well before dawn to start the trip. He's gotten so bossy (smile). I apologize for the wordiness and will try to cull it down a bit when we return from Munich - although then we are going up north for the wedding so who knows when I'll be online again. I'll also try to tell you about our trip into the mountains to go to a Monastery at the very top of an icy/snowy mountain and try to order food that we didn't know what it was and they couldn't tell us. Its all an adventure ( ;) ) Thanks to all the wonderful people who are posting here while we are gone. I hope everyone will visit their blogs because they are great people and have a lot to say that is worth reading!

I Called the Wrong Number to Germany

It has really been great having my Soldier Son back in Germany. I haven't seen him, but I've talked with him quite a few times and he sounds wonderful. He's so happy to be back. I can tell he's changed some, but not necessarily in a bad way. He's older, if that makes any sense. He's grown into a man.

It kind of reminds me of a summer he spent with his father. We were living in Michigan at the time and so both the kids went to Georgia to spend the summer with their father. His voice changed one night. Literally. I talked with him one day and he sounded like himself. The next day he sounded grown. That's kind of what this feels like. My frat boy son went to Germany three years ago. At some point he became a man. Then he went to Baghdad and 15 months later he came back in charge of things, confident and self-assured.

The thing is that I didn't have his new phone number. I had his girlfriend's phone numbers, but not his. I thought maybe he still had the same number. I knew he probably didn't, but I needed to tell him something and thought I'd dial the number. A man answered the phone, 'Hallo'. Okay, it sounded KINDA like Josh, but not quite - and sometimes he does answer in German so I thought MAYBE it was him.

'Hey Josh', I said with a question in my voice, I wasn't sure it was him at all.

The man on the other end of the line said, 'Vlsdknfj oelejoei aoiej cvlkn e oeijfa cne voe rijfa['ew jfcaocnv oe.'

That wasn't Josh. Now I was sure of it. I didn't know what to say but I was raised to use telephone manners, so I couldn't just hang up. That would go against all my raising. 'I'm sorry, I dialed the wrong number.' I said. I then waited for a reply as if that was a reasonable thing to expect.

The man then replied, 'Wekndkdnfowe lkjsoeih hiohopies neoweihf eoifho veojff'olsn.'

He spoke in full sentences as though we were carrying on a conversation, which made no more sense than me speaking to him in full sentences. But again, it was against everything I was ever taught to just hang up. If he'd been a salesman who had called me it would have been different. But I had called him and had an irresistible need to explain that I was sorry I had disturbed him. I again apologized, 'I'm sorry, I've dialed the wrong number'.

This bizarre and ridiculous tete-a-tete went on back and forth two or three times. I finally apologized and just hung up the phone and laughed to myself. I just called Germany and carried on a conversation with some stranger in a different language that neither of us understood for a couple of minutes. That's just strange.

I never did get ahold of my son that evening.

Well, it was funnier in person.