It's Not About Me

Wash Day

From Lauren's photography final at the University of Ulster.

Happy B'day, L!

Guinness Time! (but just one...)

Achtung, Baby

Three week countdown to U2 at Mile High! The last time Bono and I got together was April '87 at the Cow Palace (with 13,000 of our closest friends). I'm already considering my attire ...  Will it be the yellow ski parka and brown Inca hat or should I wear the blue Under Armour and wool hunting pants? Brrrrrrr, it's cold here, but it's all right, it's all right - we just might end up with a beautiful day!

DAM

Over spring break we went to the Denver Art Museum to see their collection of western art including works from Russell, Remington and Bierstadt. Once the boys discoverd the museum's acronym they didn't miss a chance to use it. Here's an interesting three-dimensional from their small collection of Northwest Indian art.

 

Lord's Day Hike

So on Sundays we get up, go to church, come home to a major feed-your-face-pigout on Saturday night leftovers, then go for a hike. Some how the dog knows it's a Sunday and starts flipping out the moment I change my clothes. Say the word "walk' and she starts spinning. My daughter made this short that I love. Check it out. It's way more than a "look-at-my-dog" video. The awesome music from Florence + The Machine doesn't hurt either.

 

 

Noel! Noel! Noel!

 

Noel! Noel! Noel!
Noel sing we loud.
God today hat all folk raised,
And cast adown the proud.

- from "Masters In This Hall", traditional French

The Stark Life

There was a young lady,

Who started a blog. 

She hoped with its reading,                            

You'd prefer not eggnog.

Sure there are many,

Who are doing the same,

But she's very creative,

And we share the same name.

The Stark LIfe

Imnaha Swim Hole

Buy A Hair

An Oregon friend was telling the story of a recent visit to Spokane where she picked up her son late one night at Geiger Field. It was a four-hour drive back home so they checked in to a city hotel.  As the son slid down between the sheets he discovered someone else’s socks at his toes. Obviously housekeeping had made the bed, but not bothered to change the sheets!  Sometimes you get more than you paid for.

So it was last week as we enjoyed a lovely evening on the porch at Park City’s Windy Ridge Café.  We were not eating off china or linen, but it was no McDonalds either.  My wife had made it about three-quarters of the way through her usual Caesar when out popped a juicy hair.  She mentioned this to the waitress who apologized and brought over the maître d' who likewise offered his regrets. When the penitential free desert was offered, Jo chose the Key Lime pie that the wait staff had been bragging on. The pie was as good as they said, but lo and behold there in the crust lay another hair. We just burst out laughing and let it go.  No further mention was made to our hosts, as I thought we might get tossed on the street as grifters, mooching our way through the Wasatch. It wasn’t easy though to keep a straight face as the waitress gave us our check and reassured us that this unusual event would not happen again.

Now my dear wife is no stranger to little extras in her food.  There was the second evening of our honeymoon at an Indian bistro in Edinburgh when the crunch in a Bengali curry proved be a thick fingernail clipping.  Neither will she forget the time her molars found a one-inch bolt in (of course) a Caesar at the Banff Hard Rock Café.

I’m sure everyone has plenty of foreign body stories, but how many others have two-fers like my wife in Park City? Well it wasn’t her first. I don’t remember if it was a birthday or anniversary, but we were celebrating at Primitivo, a delightful but now defunct up-scale eatery in downtown Colorado Springs.  She started with a by-the-glass chardonnay in which proudly floated over an inch of broken cork. She, being the conflict-avoidant woman that she is, apologetically brought this to the waiter’s attention. He too was embarrassed and called the wine steward who immediately offered a replacement serving of another variety of wine. It was all good, but to our amazement the substitute sported not one, but three pieces of submerged cork. We smiled and enjoyed an excellent entrée.

Lost A Teenager

Welcome to decade #3 Punkin!