the night before

It's my first night at the ranch.  I got all settled into my "shed" today and I think I should have a decent amount of privacy, which is a premium here!  Thank goodness for getting the head wrangler position!

Tomorrow is my first day...there's just one little hitch..............

living with ghosts

I spent the last week living with Justin and his girlfriend, Heather.  You'll get to meet them soon.

The first day I showed up, we spent the evening upstairs just watching TV.  When it was time for bed, I went out to my car for bags and followed Justin downstairs to my room.  

I kid you not, the moment my feet hit the bottom step, I KNEW the place was haunted.  I have experience with this stuff, you know.  The upstairs to our farm is haunted and any cousin, aunt, or uncle will back me up.

Now, I didn't say anything to Justin because, well, for being a big, tough cowboy, he's kind of a big chicken when it comes to ghosts.  So I looked at all the wall decorations to talk myself down from a panic and realized there was nothing too scary...just some decorative yokes (the thing used to hook up oxen to a plow) and antlers, neither of which should be cause for alarm.  

As Justin left my room, I looked around.  The walk-in closet was super creepy for some reason.  I investigated.  Just some old hats, maybe a prom dress and some other clothes, but the hats... The hats were sending shivers down my spine for some reason.  I shut the door to make it better.

Then I noticed the picture above the bed.  What I want to know is:  why are there always frightening pictures above the bed in haunted rooms?  Case in point: this room had a painting of a colt's face...except the eyes were evil.

I decided to open the curtains because we were in the country, which means you can still have it dark at night, but the morning light comes in.  In the window sill were some old alarm clocks.  You know, the kind with the bells on top.  And for some reason, those things really made my skin crawl.  

Finally, as I was getting ready for bed, I went to turn the basement lights off.  It had taken Justin a while to find the right light switches, because they're not exactly logically placed.  And I had to go through the same thing to get them turned off.  The interesting thing, though, is that there was a lamp on over the wood burning stove.  A plug-in lamp that had a roller switch.  And I don't remember Justin going over there to turn it on.  

Have you ever noticed how slowly you move when your hair is standing on end?  It's like if you're reeeeeeeeallly quiet, you'll be able to hear the ghost.

Well, anyhow, I got over it.  I even spent the next two evenings hanging out down there watching LOST and reading a book from Scuba Mike.  I. Was. Fine.  I wasn't creeped out at all.  

Until the second night. 

I woke up in the middle of the night and the basement light was on.  So, I got up and turned it off.  At first I assumed I had left it on, but then I realized I can't sleep with lights on.  So, then I assumed that Heather must have turned it on when she came home from working at the bar.  But why would she have come downstairs? 

I nonchalantly asked her about it the next day and without blinking an eye, she said, "No, it's just Mike."

MIKE?

In case you weren't keeping tabs on names, I was staying with Justin. And. Heather.  There was no Mike.  

Um, so who is Mike?  Rewind the memory.  Remember when you drove in and the sign said "Mike & Tink's place?"  Oh yeah.  Mike is the man who built the house.  Mike is Heather's stepfather's dad.  And it turns out that Mike was killed in a drunk driving accident a few miles down the road.  Mike has decided he still lives there, in the basement.  And Mike likes to turn lights on.  Justin had, in fact, NOT turned on that lamp above the wood-burning stove.  I asked. 

The creepy hats in the bedroom closet?  Mike's.  The clocks that never changed time?  Mike's.  And Mike's favorite places when he was alive?  The two rooms at the base of the stairway...the exact point that I knew the place was haunted.

Now, while Heather validated my gut instincts and made me feel better about my sanity, I can only wonder if it made the situation better...or worse.  I was fuh-REAKED out the rest of the time I stayed there and my ears were on supersonic hearing...as if I was going to hear Mike.  

I thought about it some and I made a deal with Mike.  I told him he could turn the lights on, as long as he turned them off when he was done, because I was too tired to be getting up in the middle of the night to do it myself.  And as I thought about it some more, I made another deal with him.  Please don't show yourself to me; I don't think I'm ready for that yet.  And he didn't.  And I didn't have to turn off any more lights.  

So I guess all I can say is this:  Mike the ghost and I lived harmoniously together, in his basement, for an entire week. 

the last weekend of ski season - finally...skiing

Ack!  A week without internet!  Here is the final installment of our ski trip...from a week ago.  And just FYI...I woke up to FRESH SNOW on the ground this morning!!!!!  Ok, so most of it has already melted, but still.........

We left bright and early on Sunday morning because, after our epic journey, we now had to drive to Copper Mountain to ski with the Seester's friends.  

While they've been skiing all season, this is my first time in a year and my second time in two years...you get the picture.  I am not in snowboarding shape.  After one blue run and one green run - the Seester insisted that I actually work on the real technique of switching edges instead of riding my back edge all the time - I needed a break.  

The girls met us here, supposedly called "The Beach," except they didn't have the beach chairs out, which makes it just "A Food Stop on a Mountain".  We all headed up to the top of the mountain from there.

Let me remind you, this is THE last day of skiing at Copper Mountain.  And it's supposed to be spring, which means it's supposed to be warm.  And of course, it's tradition to dress ridiculously on the last weekend.  Or in summer attire.

The Seester's friends have a tradition of wearing their swimsuit tops.  They weren't the only ones, but I was doing my best to stay upright, so didn't have time to be taking pictures of all the girls in bikini tops.  Sorry, men.

Then, of course, the boys had to be included.

And because my poor little body couldn't possibly handle any more, I was fortunate enough to catch these guys.

Apparently even Eeyore enjoys an adult beverage every now and then.

the last weekend of ski season - dogs

Jessica has Hunter, Officer Ryan has Nikki, and Scuba Mike has Deco the Dive Dog, and I didn't realize I was going to miss them so doggone (or is it humangone -- I can't help it...blame my father) much!  Maybe I wouldn't have noticed that I missed them, until there were dogs EV-er-eeee-where!

I mean, don't you just want to tie his ears under his chin?  It makes me want a hound.

We started out in Winter Park, which is kind of like an extension of Boulder, which is synonymous with "hippie".  At Winter Park, you can park as haphazardly as you like and you can tailgate where you see fit.  

There are also signs that say, "All dogs must be on leashes."  As you can see, this rule is stuh-RICT-ly enforced!

And it also makes me wonder how the Pioneer Woman manages to capture all of her dogs' faces. All I managed to capture were a bunch of dog hineys.  

Except for one...he was my favorite.  

Somehow, he managed to remind me of Fred.

the last weekend of ski season - an epic journey

I've got a story about my sister, whom we shall call "the Seester," and her boyfriend, whom we shall call "the Youngin'".  

They would prefer to remain anonymous.  Something about future employers.  That is, until my blog becomes famous.  You know, where you get 500 comments per post.  Rorex, you'd better get busy, my friend.   

So, the Seester invited me to go skiing with them since it was the last weekend of ski season at Winter Park and Copper Mountain.  But as you may recall from my last post, it snowed here.  A lot.  I mean, a lot a lot.  As in, they closed portions of I-70.  Namely the portions we wanted to use.  But the Youngin' was bound and determined to get there come hell or high water!  And get there we did.    

View Larger Map

Please note where I-70 is in relation to Denver and Winter Park. Please note the route we took. Please note this became a mini-roadtrip. Or an epic journey. However you prefer to look at it.

But like all road trips, there are interesting things to see. This is Walden, a pit stop about 4 hours into our 6-hour journey.  Please have a look at the map again. 

 

We were about to turn left out of the gas station, when I happened to look right and see this fantastic moose.  The great thing about blogging is that you have an excuse for taking ridiculous pictures.  

However, I'm not too sure the Youngin', in his overwhelming desire to get to Winter Park, was very thrilled about these picture stops.  But who can take a man seriously when he's wearing goggles?

Of course, I wasn't the only one causing delays.  Snow plows aren't such fast moving vehicles themselves.  

Please appreciate the height and distance of his spray.  The Seester worked very hard to get this picture for me.  P.S. - Those are *finally* the slopes of Winter Park in the background.  

This was around 3 pm.  Lifts close at 4 pm.  

For those of us who don't ski or who don't have season tickets and arrive an hour before the lifts close, we...tailgate.  

Outside.  In the cold.  With wet snow falling.  I'm smiling, but I also have 3 layers of clothes on.  Literally.  The people behind me - they're from Wyoming.  They only have 1 layer of clothes on and they're still smiling.

So what makes a 6-hour drive to a 2-hour destination and tailgating in the snow worth it? 

  

Getting the BEST picture of my sister.  Ever.

Yours truly,

The Snow Wrangler

april showers...

April showers bring May flowers.  Now that's something you NEVER hear in Florida.  And just because we use it up here, doesn't mean we necessarily confine those showers to rain.  Nope, snow showers are INcluded!

This is at Marty & Jodie's house on Friday morning.  As you can see, it started out as rain, hence the puddles, but as it cooled off, it turned to snowflakes.

By the time I left their house, it was really coming down!  I know this isn't really a great picture, but I stuck my hand out the window at a stop sign and then someone came up behind me...people are crampin' my style!

Look closely at the road, you can see the tire marks in the slush, which of course, makes for great driving conditions.  And the sign in front of me is marking a dead end road, in case you were wondering.  And all that white?  That's a BIG open field...or pasture...I don't remember, but either way, it's big and open.  But of course you can't see that for all the snow.

This is my aunt and uncle's back yard, where they're starting to get some accumulation.  

Now, remember, I'm still new at this blogging thing, so I didn't think to get a picture of the 18" at my sister's house when I arrived Friday night at 11 pm.  I am getting better, but I'm really bummed you couldn't see what I parked in because it was all gone by Sunday afternoon.  Thankfully, I slid, literally, into the sidewalk where I parallel parked, otherwise when the snow was gone, I would have looked like some idiot Florida driver who doesn't know how to park.

Anyhow, welcome to the beauty of spring snow showers.  It disappears about as quickly as it came....now bring on the flowers!

FoCoMX

Alright, so I'm a bad cousin.  Well, and a good cousin at the same time.  I finally got to see my cousin's bad in concert.  The only thing is, it's no longer the same band.  Originally, it was the Jimi Austin and they were even getting played on the radio out here in Colorado.  Then my cousin went to Senegal to be with his fiancee, who was in the Peace Corps.  Apparently this was a natural time for the band to break off and go their separate ways.

Ok, good cousin -- I went to Chris' show with his new band Fierce Bad Rabbit.  And. It. Was. AWESOME!  I have to say, I'm a really big fan and I'm not even biased.  Ok, so maybe I'm a little biased.  Regardless, I'm a big fan.  And you know how I know it's not just me being biased?  Remember Mark, the saddlemaker?  Well, we had dinner with them after Marty's saddle-fitting and they had heard of Fierce Bad Rabbit and said they were fans!  So there you have it.  I am unbiased.

Where does the bad cousin come in?  I forgot my camera.  I do not have one single picture of Fierce Bad Rabbit.  But here's my defense.  I am teh-AIR-ible at remembering to take pictures.  Any of my friends, ex-boyfriends, family members, sister's ex-boyfriends, etc. will agree.  But!  I am getting better!  I remembered to take it to the saddle shop.  

Anyhow, FoCoMX stands for the Fort Collins Music Experiment.  We payed $10 to get in to Chris' show and then we could go to all the shows around Fort Collins for the weekend.  It was pretty cool.  We stopped back by the house after Chris' show and I grabbed my camera, so I got pictures of Wirefaces, which is the new band of the other guys of the Jimi Austin.  Apparently, this is how the music world works.

This is Ian.  Ian used to be part of the Jimi Austin.  I very rarely see Ian, but when I do, we always back up and then run slo-mo at each other for a very heartfelt hug.  It's just what we do.

  

This is Shane.  He used to be the drummer for the Jimi Austin.  I've never met him before.  He's now the lead singer and drummer for Wirefaces.  Let me just tell you that this man has a LOT of energy and burns a TON of calories in his performances.

And, um, this is the bassist for Wirefaces.  Sorry, that's all I know.

Hopefully I'll be a REALLY good cousin and go to another Fierce Bad Rabbit concert and, um, you know, actually take my camera with me.

Mark Howes, Saddlemaker

Marty & Jodie -- you still need to meet them -- were driving up to Fort Collins to get Marty fitted for his saddle and invited me along.  Now, you can buy just about any ole saddle from any ole tack shop or internet site, but Mark Howes of Double H Ranch Saddle Shop makes this saddle to fit you AND your horse.  It was really cool to see how it was done and I thought maybe you would be interested in seeing it.

When we showed up, Mark was in the process of tooling (making the pretty designs) a saddle he was making for a rancher in Hawaii.

  

As you can see, it's almost like he's using a hammer and a chisel, but his "chisel" is a different shape for each type of depression he's trying to make.

For instance, if you look below, you'll see straight lines, which make up the main outline.  Then using a pear-shaped tool, he created the shading in the petals of the flower.  And a separate tool yet to create the veins of the flower. 

 

He can create pretty much anything you want if you give him the idea.  As I mentioned, this one is for a rancher in Hawaii, so this is a Hibiscus, the state flower of Hawaii.  He had another saddle in his shop that had columbines on it, which is the state flower of Colorado, but unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of it.  

Here's an idea of what that saddle will look like when it's finished.  

Then it was Marty's turn.  Since he is local, he can just go up to Mark's shop and get fitted.  Apparently, and this was before my time, Mark came down to Marty's place to look at Marty's horse and to see how Marty rides, so that he could fit the saddle to the horse and perhaps correct any flaws in Marty's riding.  While observing, Mark noticed that Marty leans a little bit forward so built up the front of the saddle to help prevent this.  

Here you see Marty sitting on his tree, which is the base of the saddle before all the leather and padding gets added.  The point of getting fitted is to see if there are any pressure points.  Marty said he felt like the left side was higher or pushing into his seat bone more, so Mark fixed this.

If you look closely at the picture, you'll see how fast his hands were moving and the leather shavings as he wore the area down.  This went on several times until Marty felt it was a pretty comfortable seat.  Mark said he had a good idea of what needed to be done now and we were finished!

I added this last photo just because I thought it was funny.  Notice the tree in the top right corner?  It kind of looks like it's smiling down on us, doesn't it? :)

If you're interested in more of what Mark does, visit his website at www.dhrss.com.  

...and his name is Fred

Monday, I fell in love.  His name is Fred.  This is Fred.  I love Fred.

Fred saw my camera and realized I was going to take a picture, so he turned his best side to me.  He didn't like his left side as well, I guess.

Fred's real name is Fred the Great.  Want to know why?  Ok, and just for the record, I, being the math nerd I am, did NOT come up with the "greater than" part.  It was Justin.  Before Fred even got out of the trailer.  Before I even had a glimpse of Fred.

That's Fred's butt.  And that's the brand on his butt.  And it says "F >".  Hence, Fred the Great.  I puh-ROM-ise you, I did not come up with the "greater than" part.  

Ok, so maybe Fred the Great isn't exactly his real name, but that's the "real" name we gave him.  Justin said  his papers (proof of his bloodlines, which makes him worth more) say Doc Bar Son, which means he's got some pretty good bloodlines.  And usually, when you have good bloodlines, you like to name your horse along those lines.  For instance, Doc Bar is the son of Lightning Bar who was the son of Three Bars.  Get it?  So, Fred should really be something like Bar Hopper or Bar Keep or Doc Holliday or Doc Seuss.  You know, make something up.  But I just really, really like to call him Fred.  It makes him seem more like a good ole boy, instead of some fancy, schmancy horse, especially when you draw it out, like "Fraay-id".  

In case you're ever looking for Fred and you think, "Dadgumit, all those vermits look alike."  Here's how you can find Fred.  First, find all the reddish brown horses -- we call that sorrel.  You probably only weeded out a couple of horses, because seems like most of them are sorrel.  Next, look for the white stripe running from his forehead to his nose -- we call that a blaze.  Then, you'll notice below, that Fred has two white socks (looks like they could use some laundering) on his right side.  And of course, he has the "F >" branded on his left butt. 

 

And that's Fred!

Oh and please, if you're going to take a picture, make sure you get the right side of his face.  He really prefers it. Ok?  

semi-first day

Today was my first day working with Justin, which I'll be doing for the next 3 weeks.  And let me tell you.  I can't remember the last time I wanted to go to bed at 8pm.  

We didn't start our day until 9.  I studied for a while before I met up with him, because let's face it, actuaries just can't resist studying.  So, we had a nice late start.  Justin had 3 colts to ride over at his place and 2 to ride here, where I'm staying -- more on that in the future.  

I tell you, it's UH-mazing what he's doing with these little guys.  The way he rides them I wouldn't be afraid to get on them...that is:  until I see him step down, take off his hat, and wipe away all the nervous sweat.  But it's no more of this "ride the buck out of them".  Why kill yourself if you don't have to?  He trains in a way that teaches horses to ride in a way that horses learn instead of how humans learn...doesn't that just make sense?  Anyhow, I learned a lot today by watching him and he definitely gave me some good pointers that I can't wait to put into play.

Oh and by the way, I fell in love today.

in high demand

Oxygen. And. Humidity.  Oh how I miss them.  

I am a runner.  Yes, I said it.  I know, I know, that's a whole other set of issues I need to work on.  But, as I was saying, I am a runner.  I ran a half marathon in December.  Heck, I ran one again in February without planning to do it.  I can run a 5K on any given day of the week.  That is, until I come back to Colorado, where they have so carefully extricated every last ounce of oxygen.  I admit, it's quite humbling to be huffing and puffing when I walk from the house to the barn.  

Oh how I miss eating my oxygen.

And my skin.  Man do I miss my soft skin.  My hands might fall off, I think.  At least peel off until all that's left are bones.  I don't think there is enough lotion in the state of Colorado to make my skin feel like it did in Florida.  Maybe I should take before and after pictures to see how many wrinkles I grow while I'm here.

Oh well, on the bright side, when I get back to Jax, I'll have superman lungs and I'll save money on lotion.  But for now, I'll continue to long for humidity and oxygen.

Week. End.

The week has come to a close.  Unfortunately, I haven't told you half the things we did, but part of that was lack of time and part of it was lack of internet connection.  

We stayed with my parents in Atwood, KS, where I showed Jessica around town -- that took about 5 minutes for her to see everything.  I realized in college that campus was bigger than my hometown.

We headed to the High School to visit some of my old teachers...that's what happens when you're a TK (Teacher's Kid), all of your friends are teachers.  Well, it may also help that I babysat for most of them, too.  Oh!  speaking of babysitting.  I got to see one of my "little guys" who used to hug me around the waist.  I could now hug HIM around the waist.  My estimate is 6'4".  Dang kids.  Growing up so fast.  I feel old now.

We finally made it to our destination state!  Does it bother anyone else that the "colorful" Colorado sign is brown?  That has always bugged me for some reason.  Huh.  Oh well.  

On a completely random side-note, as I write this, my sister's cat is snoring away on the couch.  Is that normal?  I didn't know cats snored.  

This is a picture of our farm house in Limon, CO.  We stayed with my friends Bob & Janet in town, b/c well, the thermometer at the farm said 40 outside....and 50 inside.  And the heat comes from a small, wood-burning stove in the kitchen.  Downstairs.  The bedrooms are upstairs.  We only have a space heater up there.   Oh and the upstairs is haunted.  But only at night.  Trust me.  

Wednesday we headed into Denver for a shopping spree.  Oh and I did buy a new pair of jeans....$30.  Expensive for an unemployed person, but it evened out because I got 4 - $2 shirts...and "splurged" on a $7.50 shirt! :)  Yay for outlets!

We stayed with my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Jim in Ft. Collins that night...I'd like to say thanks for the "Pops Burgers" that I so rudely demanded.   

From there we headed up to the ranch on Thursday morning for breakfast, to unload my car, repack for the next 3 weeks, and a trail ride so Jessica could see what I'd be doing all summer.  I'm pretty pumped.  

And yes, I'm very well aware that I'm going to look back on this picture some day and say, "Those are the most ridiculous sunglasses ever."  Actually, I might look at that picture today and say that.  But they really do a good job of keeping the sun out of my eyes.  And I remembered to take them off for most other pictures.  And the teeny-boppers at the grocery store always compliment me on them.  So there.  Did I mention I feel old?  Ugh.  Just wait for this summer when I'm working with 19 year olds.

Last night we stayed with Tisha and made some "healthy" food again...and my body needed it.  I don't think it could handle any more fast food.  Bleck.  

At 4:30 this morning, I took Jessica to the airport and she is already back in Jax.  I'm pretty sure that Ryan is glad to have her back, but I think we had a pretty fantastic week, so thanks for sharing, Ryan!

Road Trip - Day 2

We woke up on Sunday morning around 8:20 and my best friend from college, Emily, was supposed to be at Michele's house because she was in town for her boyfriend's rugby tournament.  I thought I heard her voice when I got up but Michele told me Emily had to drive back to Des Moines early because of bad weather.  It was like waking up on Christmas and being told there weren't any presents.  

I don't want to diminish my time with Michele and Mical because I loved my time with them, but it was just going to be like old times when Emily and I would drive down to St. Louis together to visit Michele...except this time I had driven UP with Jessica.  Regardless, it was a little sad.  

We got to spend some time in the morning, chatting, hanging out, then headed to breakfast at the Cracker Barrel.  

I know, I know.  Michele is leaning away from me and trying to keep a nice smile, but I SUH-WEAR, I took a shower that morning.  And put on deodorant.  I swear.  Really.  And Jessica didn't get out of the car so I couldn't have smelled that bad.  Or her nose doesn't work.  But I think I smelled fine that morning.

So, Missouri and Kansas are kind of punks.  They decided to build bridges right where they put their Welcome signs.  We couldn't get in the pictures because of this.

I'd like to lie to you.  I'd like to tell you that this is St. Louis.  I'd like to tell you this is the Welcome sign between Illinois and Missouri.  But it's not.  We didn't realize that we weren't going to be able to stop so we missed it.  And we couldn't turn back around (we turned around for several signs...).  This is the Welcome to Missouri sign in Kansas City.  We turned around after we got the Welcome to Kansas sign and got it going the other way.  That's what St. Louis gets for putting their sign on the bridge.

We made it into Atwood, to the folks' home around 9:30 pm and dinner was ready and waiting.  What a good mom.  

So Jessica made it.  And she's a good friend, if I haven't mentioned that before.  She was very good to mention before we left, before we got to the cold weather (did I mention I owe her BIIIIIIIIIIIG time? -- 24 hours of driving and 20 degree weather for a native Floridian) that she was excited for the trip and wanted to see my town and meet my people even if at the time it didn't seem like it.  And I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally glad she said that, because there have definitely been times that I'm afraid she's going to kill me. 

Road Trip

Sorry for no recent updates.  I wanted to post each day of my road trip, but, um, well after 15 hours in the car, all I wanted to do was sleep.  Jessica has been traveling with me, bless her little heart.  

 

We were about 2 or 3 hours into our 14 hour drive, when Jessica's friend Janet called.  

Janet:  "So, do you really know how far you're going?"  

Jessica:  "Yeah, we're going to Colorado."

Janet:  "But do you realize how far that is?"

Jessica:  "I don't know.  I haven't really looked at a map yet, but it should take us 24 hours.  Here, I've got a map, I'll look now....Holy *bleep*! "  She looks at me.  "Do know how far Colorado is?  It's like clear across the US!"

I told her to thank Janet for me...and that what she had just done was tell a marathoner about 2 miles in, that she only had 24 more miles to go.  Thanks, Janet.

But we've decided if we ever have to move....it's going to be to Tennessee.  It was an absolutely B-E-A-UUUU-tee-ful drive!  There were lakes and trees and waterfalls! and mountains and flowers and waterfalls! and camping and cool bridges...and Jessica wants you to know there were WATERFALLS!!!!!!  It's a pretty cool place.

We headed into Kentucky which was pretty quick and pretty uneventful.  Although, you may not see us, we're leaning into the Mile 0 sign. 

We finally made it to my friend Michele's house at 12:30 a.m. Central time, which means were were on the road for over 15 hours....thanks Atlanta, for those 2 hours where we were doing the creep....that's right, 20 mph for 2 hours!

As you can see, we started out with shorts, tank tops, and flip flops.  That's right, we progressively added clothes.  It. Was. Cold. 

Jacksonville is Home

It's so true that you never miss something until it's gone.  I've realized this more and more in the last month, even though Jax isn't quite "gone" yet.  

I went out to dinner with my cooking club ladies last night in Avondale, which is pretty far from my usual Jax stomping grounds.  We went to Biscotti's which has pretty darn good bistro food and finger-lickin' (and plate-lickin') good desserts.  I went to the restroom before we ordered and as I came out, I saw a guy with a cast on his leg, looked up to his face and realized it was Max, a friend of a friend.  I went over to say hi and Dave showed up to have dinner with Max, whereupon he gave me a hug and a cheek kiss, which I have to say I'm a big fan of the cheek kiss.  It makes you feel special.  Anyhow, here were Max and Dave in a place I didn't expect to see people I know -- ok, so this is their stomping grounds, but I had forgotten that.  

I went back to my table of women and had a lovely last dinner with them -- I'm TOTALLY going to miss my monthly gossip with them...oh, and I suppose some DE-lish-us food.  And I'm thinkin' Rosemary just might be missin' living vicariously through me...because we ALL know the info she wants will NOT, I repeat, NOT be posted on here.  

As we finished our main meal,  a few of us headed to the dessert window to choose from the mile-high ganache, layered berry cakes, fluffy mousse cakes, and other assorted lip-smacking delectables.  I, yet again, walk past a table with another man I know!  Except, this man is really out of place.  I mean to tell you, I met him in Maine!  Yeah, Maine is a little far from Florida.  

Ok, so let's step back for a moment.  I live in Jacksonville, Florida.  Jacksonville, for those of you who don't know, is a Navy town.  There are 2, count them, 2, Navy bases in Jacksonville, which makes for a whole lot of Navy peeps.  And, ok, so maybe I dated 2 Navy men in my 4 years here, both of whom left -- one to Hawaii and one to Maine -- so I've met my fair share of Navy peeps from other places, while giving the long-distance thing a go.  

Right, so, back on track here.  Man, my ADD is at it's all-time peak.  Ahem.  

So, I see the Godfather (think Top Gun - Pete Mitchell, Maverick), but I can't remember his real name.  However, I tend to be an unabashed woman, so I walk up to him, re-introduce myself and say, "Aren't you the Godfather?"  And this leads me to another hug...and I mean a bear hug.  The Godfather is a good hugger.  I enjoy good hugs as much as cheek kisses.  Maybe more.  

The Godfather is having dinner with Big Lovin', who I've never met before but have heard many stories about.  I was happy to meet him, even though I couldn't exactly recall one of these stories.  

That's a bad thing about me - I remember stories, but can't put them to the person once I meet them until someone says, "Yeah, remember I told you that story about..." And then the light bulb goes on.

Ok, but the point is, this has been happening to me a lot in Jax lately.  Running into people I know.  Like at the Gate River Run, where I saw a TON of people I knew, which ain't bad considering there only, oh, you know...18,000 people running it.  

But it still just makes me realize, in the 4 years I've been here, I've made friends.  And while the Navy folk have this bad habit of just picking up and moving after you become friends, they also have this FANtastic way of magically re-appearing...3 years later.  This is not to say that I don't have "permanent" friends here.  The River Run people were all from here.

It's just to say that after growing up in a town of 1200 and needing that sense of small community, I've found it.  Which is also to say, I am going to be homesick for Jax, regardless of my house. Because, this is where I've made MY life.