Our Dumb Blog

I washed my hair today. Which was good because it had been about a week
since the last time I did. It doesn’t get as icky after that amount of time
in the arid climate of Colorado, but by the time I returned to the South, it
was obviously past its time.

Because of this, my hair was down when I went to school to return a book to
the library. Instead of getting my grades, I got a little card in the mail
saying I had a problem with the library. I called them this afternoon when I
got up and found out that they couldn’t find a book I’d checked out for my
research paper. I’d checked out a bunch of books for that paper from UM and
the public library. A pile that reached past my knee when stacked up, as a
matter of fact. I’d returned them all after the paper got turned in. Well,
MOST of them. I found one under the seat of my car this morning after
talking to the library people on the phone and discovering that a book was
still missing.

I called Mark before I left, since I talked to him on the phone last night
saying I might come see him at school the next day. Leaving a message on his
voice mail, I drove off for school, wondering how the heck I’d find him.
He’s in a new trailer (the girls live in dorms, the guys in cottages and
trailers), and I had no idea which one. But as I prepared to get out of my
car in front of the library, he approached my vehicle. “Hi!” I said, opening
my door. Brad followed up behind him. “Jonah,” breathed Brad, “You look
like a chick.” I guess I did with my hair down and shorts and white Nikes
on. “Nice legs,” he added. “Nice legs,” Mark concurred. “Thank you.” “I
was expecting the jeans, flannel shirt,” commented Brad. “Yeah, well it’s
hot today,” I answered putting my purse with checkbook inside over my
shoulder. “You’ve even got a purse today,” Brad continued.

We went in to the library. “This is late,” I said sliding the book to the
lady across the counter. It was indeed almost two weeks late. She and the
workstudy looked in vain for its card. Then the lady who’s like second in
command over there came over to help. She found the card where she’d pulled
it waiting for me to call back. Satisfied, she crossed out my name on a bad
list and marked some other things. “Okay,” she said looking up at me.
“That’s it?” I asked. “Yes, we won’t make you pay a fine. We’re just glad
to have it back.” “Cool,” I smiled. “Now run before I change my mind,” she
ordered. I left the library quickly with Mark and Brad in tow.

We went over to Mark’s trailer. Girls aren’t allowed inside, but he lives so
far back now that no one notices. It’s pretty nice with a full kitchen.
Brad and I talked about relationships and meaning while Mark played
alternative music tunes on the classical guitar he checked out of the music
dept. Then he went to eat at the snack shop and I had to go home and cook
dinner.

In other news a quest I’ve held for a couple of years now finally came to
completion. I’d been searching for the perfect chocolate chess pie recipie
and found it tonight, quite inadvertantly. What I really wanted was a
chocolate chip pie recipe, so I flipped through cookbooks radomly trying to
find one. My mom has a whole cabinet dedicated to cook books, most of them
gifts she never uses. I finally cried out in triumph as I flipped to the
correct page. As I rolled out the pie crust, my mom asked what I was making.
I refused to say, as always. My brother, who is fairly perceptive, didn’t
ask but came over to the cookbook and started reading off the ones on the
page. “Chocolate chess?” he wondered allowed. “Chocolate chess?! Where!” I
demanded. There, right above the one for the chocolate chip pie, it was.
Since the pie crust recipie is for two crusts, I made one of each. We had
the chess tonight. And it was good. Real good. I’m happy with it, and
quite satisfied with myself.

I have nothing against flies per se. I mean, I’m sure they serve some useful
purpose in nature. Like climbing all over food that’s been left out while
regurgitating onto whatever they’re eating part of their last meal, which
many times consists of garbage or dung. But I harbor these swift insects no
ill will in general, provided they’re not harassing me with constant buzzing
or biting me or my animals. So long as they stay out of sight and sound,
they are safe from my vengeance. But woe be it to the tiny flying animal I
find within my vacinity.

The Bremers’ have a multiplicity of fly swatters. My house has one, which I
can never find when I need it and so am usually forced to resort to a rolled
up sheet of newspaper. But insects rarely find their way into my house,
well, flying insects, that is. We seem to have our fair share of roaches.
But

(A slight pause while I answer the ringing phone, have a short conversation
in which the caller and I acknowledge predicting each being on the other end
of the line, spotting a fat black fly, retrieving a fly swatter from its
roost on top of the fridge, and swatting the poor sucker into a window pane,
before handing the phone to someone else.)

But…
—
But after writing this much I went to a picnic (where I consumed a hamburger,
Sprite, and Cheetoes and played volley ball with cadets), the airport, made
rhubarb pies, watched a movie and shot off a bunch of fire works. So I
didn’t have much time to write about the day’s events.

We’re leaving for home tomorrow, probably around noon, and it’s after 2 now.

I made supper tonight. Mostly. Michele made meatballs out of elk meat and
then gave me directions for broiling them while she disappeared out the door
to go lifeguarding. When they were brown (approaching carbonized stage), I
dumped them into a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove and boiled a bunch of
flat noodles. I also slit a loaf of french bread in half lengthwise and
spread it with a mixture of mayonaise, olive oil, parmassian cheese, and
garlic powder.

That invisible pause was me taking the second apple pie out of the oven. Now
I’m tired. Cooking (and then cleaning up afterward) does that to me.

We had elk steaks last night. That was the first time I’d eaten the third
largest indigenous herbavore of this continent. Max and Jefiner got it while
hunting last fall, they could only bring back a hindquarter before a blizzard
set in. By the time they got back, a bear had taken care of the rest. It’s
tasty stuff. Didn’t seem quite as strong as venison.

I went over to the academy today to see if I could view my webpage with Max’s
version of Netscape. We never could connect, but I did get to Geof’s and my
brother’s. Max was pretty impressed with Ben’s. Then I asked him if he
could telnet. He showed me the telnet icon, and I connected to maf, my unix
accounts, and dragon’s lair, where Imzadi, Bigben, and Lorax were gathered.
Max was in awe. “You mean the internet isn’t just the Web?” Now he’s
convinced I’m a computer genius.

I gave Eli a hair cut today. but it’s not totally right. I’ll send this,
since it’s lightning, and fix his hair.

Woohoo! Today I learned how to use Windows without a mouse. Oh, I had a
mouse alright, but I reached the chapter of DOS for Dummies that told how to
do it. Now if I’m ever in a predicament in which I’m rendered mouseless, I
can maneuver successfully around the screen, providing I can remember how.

I also vastly improved the user friendliness of this IBM. I learned how to
change the prompt, so now it reads, “Yes, master?> ”

Heh, Eli just “Ewwww!”ed at Jefiner picking her nose. So Jef wiped it on
him. That brought quite a loud reaction. Nathan and Eli were picking on her
mercilessly a bit earlier. Jef is extremely ticklish around the neck. Ugh.
Now Steph is engaging in chemical warfare.

Eli is dying his hair, or bleaching it, rather. He’s been making periodic
trips to the bathroom to put peroxide on it. Then he comes and asks me,
“Jonah? Is it getting lighter?” He also hasn’t shaved for several days. He
said I’ll have to help him shave it into a goatee. He’s trying to convince
the people at school that this all American, straight kid is plunging off the
deep end. He’s also considering glueing a stud to his ear, even though I
told him if he got it pierced, it would grow back before long. But he enters
the Air Force Academy June 27th, and the least things they can give him
trouble about the better. He’s got a big swim event or something coming up.
Then he’ll shave not only his face but his legs as well.

I just got finished getting the camcorder ready in case Basket decides to
foal very soon. Steph and Jef are supposedly going to check on her every
hour. Horses like privacy when it comes to shooting out babies, so checking
probably is only going to delay the process. The Bremers have never actually
seen a birth, if I understand correctly, and their horses have been rather
fertile. I hope she lets loose before we leave.

Max visited my webpage. He had a problem with the “what I plan to do with my
major: Rule the world” part. “You see,” he said, “that’s impossible because
_I_ am going to rule the world.” “But,” I replied, “it doesn’t exclude
ruling in tandem. It could happen in shifts. One after the other.” “Oh, I
understand. I always assumed that world dictatorships were for life.”
“Well, yes, depending on how long one lives.” “In which case it would be
for life.” “Exactly.” I’m to meet him at the academy to view my page on
Netscape tomorrow at 2:30ish, providing Basket isn’t bringing a new foal into
the world, in which case I’ll call him, and he’ll try to get out of his
meeting.

I guessed the correct answer to the trivia question at Safeway this evening,
so Jefiner and I rented a movie free. It was a chick flick, void of violence
(had a lot of violins in it, however, as Duncan pointed out). Eli and Nathan
left in the middle of it.

I made beigies (light brownies) today with apple sauce instead of butter
according to Michele’s directions. People kept asking me what was in them.
I’d answer, “Manure.”

Eli’s hair is slightly lighter… but nothing drastic. Yet. He’s thinking
about soaking his head in a bowl of peroxide tomorrow.

Heh, I’ve discovered a book here. DOS for Dummies. I started reading it,
but didn’t get beyond the cartoons in the front before AOL finally was ready.

The junk saga continues. Jef, Nathan, and Steph took a JJ Truck load of it
to the dump, only to find that you have to make an appointment, and they
aren’t open on Wednesday. That’s why I was calling JM Disposal, to see if
they could come pick it up. JJ needed to pull the horsetrailer with Kimberly
and Whin inside up to get bred, so we had to empty the junk out of the pick
up and put it in a place where JM could pick it up but where it wouldn’t be
in the way. “Will the propane truck be coming soon?” asked Steph. “Nah,” I
answered, and so we decided to dump it on the little drive leading to the
propane tank. A few minutes later, we’d emptied the old cot, lawn mower,
truck bumper, wire fencing, and other assorted junk onto the ground. Not
five minutes later, the propane truck shows up. I couldn’t believe it. It
can’t come more than once a month. Fortunately, we’d left enough room to get
by.

Heather and Stephanie Stone came by after school today. (Heather is the one
who was in the hospital and unable to walk for a long time last summer.
She’s fine now, which makes me VERY happy to see.) Heather asked me if
Basket was ready to give birth. “Any minute now,” I replied. “Like when?”
“Within the next five minutes,” I said seriously. “Come on. Is she having
contractions?” “She didn’t tell me,” I answered. “Oh, she’ll tell you when
she’s having contractions?” “Yes,” I nodded solemnly, “She’ll say, ‘I’m
having contractions now.'” “Well, is she dialating?” “Why don’t you go look
at her butt and find out?” Sheesh. Some people. See if you’ll get any
information out of me.

Steph, Jef, and Nathan went to Walmart and out to eat at a Mexican place.
I’ve decided that Mexican is my favorite cuisine. But I elected not to go.
I really enjoyed being here all by myself. It’s amazing how much I enjoy
being alone. I loneliest I feel tends to occur when I’m with a group of
people.