What I am grateful for today

That I will not be making any cookies next week for my kids' English teacher.

When my kids were at West High they always bet their English teacher a plate of homemade cookies that BYU would beat Utah.  Sometimes the English teacher bit.  Sometimes she didn't.  In fact, she only said GAME ON the years that Utah looked strong, which meant she always won, which meant I somehow ended up making cookies to teach my children to honor their bets.  And also to teach them that I would cover their stupid bets for them whenever they lost.

Yes!  Just call me the Enabler-in-chief!

Anyway.  As my granddaughter and I made chocolate chip cookies yesterday, I said a little prayer of gratitude that I did not have to share them with anybody who cheers for the U.

It was a good day.

What I thought this morning

Maybe I'm giving myself more credit than I deserve, but I like to think that no matter where I may have ended up, I could have found the beauty in that place.

Okay.  You're right.  I didn't do that in Finland.  But I think that had more to do with where we were in our lives at that time.  It was just a tough go there.

But whatever.

The point is this--when I walked outside and looked at the mountains this morning, I was overwhelmed by the extravagance of it all.  The colors.  The textures and shapes.  The visual drama.  AND I LIVE HERE.   I can step outside and see it every day.  I'm so lucky to live here.

This is a pirate selfie

I'm not good at taking pictures of myself.  If I were, more than half of my lips would be showing.  OBV.  Anyway, it's National Talk Like a Pirate Day, and apparently my Pirate Pete and Pirate Joe books are on some pirate-type website, WHICH IS AWESOME.  I feel incredibly famous now, which is why I'm going around taking pictures of myself like I'm a damn Kardashian.  Without a lower lip.  No self-respecting Kardashian would forget to wear her lips in public.  ALSO OBV.

Anyway.  I am skyping with two schools in Iowa today, where I'll be speaking like a pirate to them.  I love Iowa.  Today Iowa is my favorite state.

AAAARGH!

Red Velvet, Cold Stone ice cream, and other things

My friend Anne recently said to me that I remind her of the kind of person who gets up first thing in the morning and plans what she's going to eat that day.  And I said I remind her of that kind of person, because I am that kind of person.  For instance, I am meeting a former student at the Olive Garden for dinner tonight, and I am debating whether I should get ravioli or that sausage thing.

Well, I'll probably get that sausage thing.

Anyway, I've also been thinking about how some things just have never tasted as good as they did the first time I tried them.  You know.  Like Red Velvet.  I've written about that.  I think I'll also add Cold Stone ice cream.

The first time I ever had it, Ken Cannon and I were in Phoenix, going to spring training games, and we stopped off for a little ice cream.  I'm not a big ice cream person, but wow.  I did back flips all the way to the stadium after eating that ice cream because it was sooooo good.  However, whenever I've done the Cold Stone thing again, it's never been that awesome.  It's jsut been . . . ice cream.

Why is that, Oh ye Food Gods?  I would like an answer, please.

Have you had a similar food experience?  With what, specifically?

Help a girl out

. . . by adding your own suggestions.  This week's column!

The running vs. the biking

As you may recall, I was training for the St. George marathon this time last year, running many, many miles up and down State Street where I observed firsthand that Salt Lake City is home to many, many tattoo parlors.  You start seeing things in a different way when you're on foot in a town, as opposed to zipping around in a car.

Anyway.  I haven't run as much this year, but I have been biking.  And whenever I see people running--their flushed, sweaty faces contorted in pain--and want to say, "Dudes!  Biking is way more fun!"

I took a ride out on Legacy today to have some more of that fun, and at first it was awesome.  The morning was pleasantly cool.  The sun was shining.  There were birds to behold (a red wing blackbird and a red tail hawk, among others).  But then a stiff headwind set in, and suddenly I felt like pioneers dragging handcarts across Davis County.  

Except that instead of wearing a bonnet I was in spandex.

The brain is such a mystery

Don't you agree?

Why is it that I can have periods where the ideas for columns just come billowing out of my brain--I mean I just can't write them down fast enough.  And then there are periods like the one I'm in now.  My brain has turned all petrified.  You could display said brain at an elementary school science fair with a poster that says, "Petrified Writer's Brain.  Cannot Conceive of Anything New to Say."

I did manage to write a column this morning for tomorrow's deadline.  But people it didn't come easy.