A Crowd of Hippies!

Today I went to the Sea Glass Festival in Cayucos. Not because I am a huge fan of sea glass, I just needed some for the lesson that I am teaching in Relief Society tomorrow and didn't want to try finding enough when cash could get me there so much faster.

So, after the drive to Cayucos I started to worry a little when the closest parking spot left me with a 1/2 mile walk. I worried more and more as I got close to where I was going and saw the line. The building is about the size of a small elementary school cafeteria. The line was about 1 block down the beach from the door. I walked past a bunch of scruffy baby boomers, long hair, flowing skirts, tacky save the universe t-shirts, I worried more.

While waiting the stories of the problems ahead began traveling down the line. Whoever was in-charge didn't think about the effects of overcrowding a small unventilated room. Several older people were faint and had to sit down. One lady allegedly passed out. They (the mysterious in-charge people)were told by either the city or the EMTs that the sign limiting the people inside needed to be followed, the windows and doors needed to be opened, and the room needed to be aired out some. The line slowed down and the $1.00 bumper stickers became a free handout to anyone who would continue to wait.

I listened to stupid stories about "the good old days" from the people behind me. Then Bob, the one who actually collected sea glass in the group started talking about his drunken adventures collecting sea glass along America's beaches. Since Bob and the other men had left the line to go to the bar across the street as their wives held their place in line Bob was now a little louder than he had been earlier and kept bumping into me. The last five minutes it took all of my self control to not take Bob down. He was within inches of a bruising when we finally got to the door and I made a conscious effort to go the opposite way of Bob and his tolerant friends.

I looked at tables full of ugly jewelry and art. I was stepped on, bumped into, pushed, bumped into, steped on, blocked, pushed, pushed, bumped into, stepped on, over and over. Not one of the hippies appologized. None seemed to care that they were annoying and possibly injuring a stranger. Finally at the last 2 tables there were jars of sea glass that had not been a craft project. I bought the cheapest one that was large enough to give everyone a piece tomorrow. I was ripped off! But I got what I came for and left quickly.

Stupid annoying hippies! They are rude and give their generation a bad reputation. They should go back to their communes and stay.

Mail

I love mail! I'm sort of like a 5 year old when it comes to mail. I like to send it, I like to read other peoples, but mostly I love to get it.

Back in the fall I decided that aside from a few bills (which I don't love) I was not getting the amount of mail that I needed. I pondered my predicament for a few days before figuring out the secret to getting mail. Are you ready, here it is...To get mail you have to send mail. Then I realized something, I hadn't been sending any mail, so the few friends and family members who occasionally dropped me a line were just being nice. I didn't really deserve to get anything but the bills.

I am starting to think that I have solved my problem. I send at least 10 letters a week unless I am on vacation. More for holidays or if people seem to need a letter. Sunday afternoons are like a regular letter factory. Don't even get me started on the amount of glue and paper flying around the living room when I decide to make cards.

Anyway, this blog entry is a thank you to all of the friends and family who have responded to my efforts. I got 7 valentines since Friday (1 was at work and not in the mail box.) I get letters at least a couple times a week. You make my day every time I get one, not to mention when I get 2 at once. Oh, and post cards, wahoo!!! I have filled multiple pages of a photo album with those. It's becoming quite the collection.

So, thanks again and I will keep up the work on my end.

The Waterfall

As a kid I went to Nojoqui falls on a trip with my parents. I remember it being a fun hike and have always wanted to go back. Well, Saturday I went with a friend. The "hike" was more of a nature walk, but it is in a pretty canyon and the waterfall was flowing which I guess it doesn't do in the summer.

It made for a fun day, and to my friend...Thanks for coming!!!

The Lighthouse

There was a time when I really, really, really wanted to go inside a lighthouse. I thought they were the greatest thing ever. There was just one problem, I was living in the desert. Then I moved to a landlocked state. I occasionally saw one from the outside if I went to the right beach and up at the great lakes. I finally got to go inside of one. It was a fun day.

Here is the view from my trolley car ride to get there.



Here is the front of the lighthouse.


Here is the light. It is no longer used and is not even inside of the lighthouse tower anymore. Good thing, because there were 7 of us in there and the light would have made that impossible.


They are still working on some restorations. The lighthouse was built in 1890 so most of the rooms were restored to that time.





The lightkeeper's daughter was still alive when renovations started so her room was made as she remembered it including electricity.


Anyway, it was a pretty fun day.

The Donut Brigade

Every morning, at donut stores across America, little groups of old men gather. They eat donuts; drink coffee or milk; and ramble about their past, present, and grandkid's future to anyone that will listen. I first found out about these guys as a kid when my Grandpa joined them. As an older kid I figured out that just about every donut store has a group. The one by my work is full of guys with antique cars.



I buy donuts about once a week. Enough that the lady behind the counter knows to get me chocolate milk while I decide between plain cake donuts and an apple fritter. While I wait in line I listen in as the local group talks about their past, their cars, their wives, and my favorite topic their grandkids. I can't help but smile as I am reminded of my Grandpa and the stories that he shared with his own group of donut buddies.

Another Frog Story!

So, a long time ago (about 7 1/2 years) I spent the summer at Camp Birchtrail in Minong, Wi. There are many great Birchtrail stories, but tonight you get the frog one as I was reminded of it at work today.

One night at camp we had the most amazing thunder storm ever. It poured buckets of rain and there was very little time all night that you could not hear thunder. Even better was the lightening which literally lit up the sky all night. Well hearing that much rain on a tin roof is amazing unless you need to go to the bathroom. E was 11 I think. She really needed to go, but the bathroom was a bit of a walk and she was both scared and wanting to stay dry (from the rain). We tried to talk her into using the bushes right behind the cabin but she refused and eventually had to go so bad that she ran to the bathroom without shoes as there was not enough time to put them on.

E screamed on the way back and we thought that maybe she fell in the mud, but she came in the cabin door a few seconds later shaking. She explained that she stepped on something gross on the way back. She couldn't tell what it was, but it felt slimey and gross. We thought little of it, helped her clean the mud off and finally got her to go back to bed.

In the morning, just a few feet from the cabin door we found the "something gross." E had stepped on a frog. The even grosser part was what we learned that morning about frogs, you see when a frog gets squished it's guts come out it's mouth and stay there as it is now dead. E threw up on her frog, knowing that she stepped on that pile of grossness was just too much.

Yesterday while discussing my roomie frog with a coworker the story of E came up. The really weird part was that coworker finding a similarly squished frog in the parking lot. So now all you readers can avoid using your imagination and just look at the photo below to see what a squished frog looks like. Don't barf on your keyboard :D

Well, I didn't think that would ever happen!

So... do you remember 2 entries ago I told you about my new visitor?
Well this morning he decided to move in. He must have liked the warm damp weather in my bathroom a little better than the cold damp flowerbed outside the door.


I was surprisingly calm. For a girl who still gets a little crazy over spiders and crickets a frog could have caused a very serious reaction. I thought quickly and ran to the kitchen for a glass. He was already in a corner, so capturing him was kind of easy.



Then the tricky part. This works for crickets by putting a piece of paper under the cup, but frogs weigh more than crickets so I found a postcard and carefully slid that under. He was a little scared of Yosemite, but then again for someone so small the view from half dome would be frightening.


Then I put a tupperware lid under that, no sense chancing an escape.




My little friend was taken to the other side of the building across the parkinglot and released by the river. I don't want him too close now that he thinks I am looking for a roommate. (He's jumping behind the tall green leaf in this one.)


When my neighbor started smirking at the turbie twist on my head. I told him that when there's a frog in your house you don't have time to dry your hair before you play catch and release.