Monday, December 12, 2011
...is to invent it. - Alan Keys
I so love a to take advantage of a bargain. Or maybe it's having grown up by DC where I could hope on the metro and go see some of the best museums in the world for free. Either way the first Sunday of the month at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History has free admission to New Mexico residents. So... that's where we were on the first Sunday of the month. At least Tigo, Azalea and I were there. We've been there a bunch of times but somehow missed the technology room stuck back in the corner, just past the Space Exploration room.
Turns out, Bill Gates and friends spent a good amount of time hanging out in Albuquerque while he was typing away to become a the richest of the rich.
Well, I'm not sure that the first computer game was invented here, but we still got to play it. Tigo and Azalea attempted to blow each other up with out being sucked into the sun's gravitational pull.
Um. That happens everyday, with out the video game...
Um. That happens everyday, with out the video game...
He's definitely a future programer.
Order pizza. Pick it up. Go to party.
She was good.
I 'm not as smart as I look.
It's being invented right now. Right here.
|Must keep remembering this.|
I was always thinking about the future as a kid. When you are a kid, you think anything is possible.
True dat. I gotta keep thinking like a kid.
Monday, December 5, 2011
If you could hear this blog post instead of see it, your experience would be much different.
Rather if you could just be there with your eyes closed and hear the crazy sounds of the Creeky Door Cranes. That is what I would name them if it were me. You can hear them with out seeing them. It seems as if the birds could be miles away and the faint sound of creeking noises. It's an eerie sound actually. But beautiful at the same time.
Ok, so you can hear a little bit of what they sound like.
Yes, the sky really is that blue.
Really rather majestic creatures. The way they land. Their communication with each other. One sets off a cue, the others look around and decide if they should act. There definitely seems to be a leader in each pack of birds. They come and they go.
Winter in our neighborhood means that the Sandhill Cranes are here again. They love to stop over and feed at Anderson fields.
There has been a lot of effort put into keeping them here. A lot.
The fields are tended to and grown and kept in a widely water unwise way to keep the birds migrating through Anderson Fields.
|And they are off again.... Can you hear them coming your way?|
Sunday, December 4, 2011
So we do our best to keep our promises around here. Unfortunately sometimes we forget, so we have to improvise. On Thursday night the power went out during a crazy 90mph wind storm. Even though it wasn't out long, Elmer went ahead and made our first fire of the season. Azalea was dying to roast marshmellow, s'mores style. All we had were the mini mellows, so we promised we re-do the fire on Friday and roast the real deal.
And we forgot to get the marshmellows.... Oops.
So we make the best of what's around.
Girlfriend doesn't mind the mini.
And it was melted by noon.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Ok, anybody who has known me for a while, knows that I HATE (yes strong word) to get rid of things. I don't like to think of myself as a packrat. I do hate clutter. But I don't like throwing anything away if I think that it has another life somewhere else.
Handme downs are awesome. But now that my child-bearing days are over I have a bunch of clothes that I can't necessarily give to other people.
It's one thing to give your own child the older siblings old shirt with the stains, but another family's stains don't work as good when you are passing along clothes. Nor do soccer jersey t-shirts.
Sooooooo, in the spirit of reusing, I've been working on a braided rag rug made entirely out of old clothes that might not have had another life, except as well... a rag. Stains are hidden. Holes are avoided and Floors are covered.
|A beginning pile of fabric cut into 2 inch wide strips before being sewn together end to end.|
|This was the very beginning. Before I knew what I was getting myself into.|
|Before the braids got a chance to make to the rug,the kids got a hold of them and wrapped up my head. |
Braided rug. Braid head.
|Here are some of the many rolls that I have created to braid, braid braid.|
|And it's pretty easy to fold right up and put away when I'm not doing it.|
(Though I really like seeing it out.)
|You can see the braided strap that has yet to be attached.The fabric was connected in No order. Everything was completely random.|
|It's still growing. And growing. It has definitely been a labor of love. |
I could tell you a story about each one of the materials in here. Who wore it. Where it came from. How long it's been there. What stains where on the shirt. How soft it was.
It's not really our farm. But I still like to call it that. Less than two miles from our home, even shorter as the bird flies is the farm that we go to, to pick up our CSA allotment. The site that we go to is a small portion of the larger farmer that rests a few more miles south in Albuquerque's South Valley. I'm not as versed with it other than when Tigo and I went to the bee keeping class last year.Inn. What I am told is a nice, high end Inn for travelers and conferences. But small enough and quaint enough, to house and comfort weary travelers.
|The view is to die for.|
|The charm is complete.|
Yes we came just in time for a gigantic 16lb baby goat to be born!
Can you say, Ouch.
Just ignore my Ghostbuster comment I made to Azalea as we watched...
And here is Christine, who I absolutely adore. She is a kick-ass homeschooling mama that raises all these sweet animals on the farm. Started out as a little 4H project with her kids and she has really run with it. Knows just about all related to goats, chickens, pigs, and the such.
And can I say that her older son graduated from home high school at 14 this spring and is now enrolled in the local college. Son 2 is on the same track.
How can you not love baby goats. Fresh out of the oven. So sweet.