Packers vs Guster

Both "kids" were home from college, Inga for only a few days into January, Grant's hung around a bit longer; length of stay predicated by when classes began.  For Inga it, classes started on the 7th, while Grant did not start the next semester until the 22nd.  As a family, we did not have many activities planned for the Christmas Holidays, the usual: select and cut a live tree from East Texas, eat barbecue, join our friends and enjoy traditional New Year's Eve at the estate of the McCord's 100 miles east of here.  The list was short and sweet.

However, this year an added venue was suggested by the youngin's; The band Guster was going to be back in town and performing with the Dallas Symphony on January 5th.  It was suggested, "Why don't we all go?".

The music of Guster had been independently discover and appreciated a few years back by both Grant and Inga, both having downloaded Guster tunes onto their iPods.  Grant had already seen Guster perform twice, while Inga was feeling left out as many of the bands she would like to see, seem to bypass the University of Oregon in Eugene.  So by fortuitous alignment, Inga could catch Guster performing with the Dallas Symphony Orchestra on Saturday and then fly back to Oregon on Sunday and be ready for classes on Monday.

My little-used iPod lacks any music performed in the past 30 years or so.  I am several standard deviations removed from the typical population in my appreciation of live music and my tin ear may or may not have anything to do with it, but I suspected that whatever the appeal is among many, if not most people, to listen to and appreciate music - I have been found wanting.  I usually just don't get it.  So, with the price of tickets likely a waste on me, I suggested they buy 3 tickets for the upcoming Guster-DSO concert.  I'd stay home and read or get ready to file taxes (actually I'd rather listen to a concert than do taxes - but one is a necessity and the other costs money).If the Guster schedule had fortuitously aligned for Inga, then it became apparent that it was star-crossed for Grant.  At the time the 3 tickets were purchased, the playoff schedule for the Green Bay Packers was undetermined. Now it was obvious, Grant's team, the Packers, were scheduled to play their division rivals, the Minnesota Vikings on the very Saturday evening that Guster was appearing with the Dallas Symphony.

It was Packers vs Guster. 

 VS

Inga called a few of her friends around town and offered the shot a picking up Grant's ticket.  To no avail at the late date.  So, rather than preparing taxes, I  was going to hear Guster, live with the DSO.

For Inga it was great night, seeing Guster perform was something see had wanted to do.  For Sue, well, she is easily pleased and was glad to partake of the experience.  For me, not so easily pleased, but I would say I was glad to have had the experience.  It was a good show - even I could tell that.

And the Packers prevailed over the Vikings, so even Grant was gratified.

New Year's Day East Texas Stroll

We all stayed up late.  We all got up late.
Some got up later than others.

The rain that ended 2012 was now drifting toward Kentucky and I put on a warm shirt and took a stroll down the hill from the Blue House to the pasture and bottom lands.  This is what I saw on the first day of 2013:

Pine cone on "iron stone"

Autumn Sweet Gum leaf on moss

December reeds on edge of spring-fed stock pond

End of the Day
January 1st, 2013

End of 2012 - Set the Night on Fire!

There is not many things better than to set off colored flames and explosions on a deep mid-winter's night, so once mused Eleanor Roosevelt.

Indeed, whether it be New Year's Eve or at Mrs. Roosevelt's urging, that is all the excuse needed for pyrotechnics from sparklers (mostly duds this year) to flaming fountains from Formosa or artillery shells mixed with Roman Candles. They all drive the spirits high culminating in a midnight climax of sparks. light and primal smokes drifting through the oak branches.

Some of the glory from New Year's Eve 2012 in the year of our Lord:

Grant fires off a Roman Candle in front of the Bunk House

Shoot the Moon!

 

 

"Miss Sparkler" 2012

Grant offers the lady a light

When smoke gets in your eyes

Fire Girls - Just wanna have fun!

Ha! You Missed!
"You'll shoot your eye out!" - Eleanor Roosevelt

BOOM

New Year 2013: Wine, Women & Fireworks

 We always, always, always... save New Year's for a gathering of friends at the  "Blue House" in East Texas' Piney Woods, hosted by the McCords.

A mid-week New Year's Day has a few scheduling issues (NY 2013 was a Tuesday), nothing that can't be overcome.  This year's plan as it evolved was for Grant and me to go out Saturday (29th) afternoon and have a good time.  Inga was dealing with some unfavorable reactions to medications prescribed over her Christmas break by the CF Clinic, so she and Sue opted to come out on the 31st for NY Eve and the following day.

Suffice it to say, there is much merriment and jovial samplings of wine and port, always a community jigsaw puzzle to be cursed through the wee hours as we former parents of toddlers discuss college and careers unfolding before our "kids" and then do some commiserating on our 'old age' problems while we shake our heads at some of the choices of our older parents.  There is a whole lot of living to be done at the Blue House at the end of each year.

Some find diversion with a rowdy board game at the dining table

Cooking duties are shared by each arriving family, usually includes a lunch and a dinner.  The Blue House kitchen accumulates heaps of snacks and sweets and since nobody wants to skimp and come up embarrassingly short on their designated feast day - there is always a cornucopia of leftovers tucked back on the counter and in the fridge.  Blessings all around as we all get more round!  What fun!

Donna, our hostess at the Blue House
Readies "Greens for Money" in 2013

Inga is unprepared for one of her father's puns
I think it is nice to be so appreciated

Inga prepares her pulled pork loin specialty
New Year's Eve Dinner

Sue & Inga cook this year's Suneson dinner using Inga's recipes

Grant watches one of the Bowl Games
while Pogo offers some consulation

The Christmas Day snow had melted quickly as the Texas winter returned to sunny 60's, but a forecast of rain for NY Eve threatened to put a damper on the usual fantabulous flaming fireworks free-for-all.  The solution was to do some igniting of fireworks one night early just in case.  But keep your powder dry for something big on New year's Eve - no matter what.

The wine was mighty fine.
The fireworks flew with flaming fanaticism into the rainy black sky.
And,
The women were moms and college & young career girls - that's all I gotta say about that.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Mouse

'Twas the night before Christmas

and all through the house

not a creature was stirring

not even a mouse

Clement Moore (or whoever truly penned the above verses) got it wrong. 

It was nearly the night before Christmas, and while all were out doing last minute shopping or socializing, Thinking I was alone and away from peeking eyes, I took the opportunity to shut myself in the kitchen and sat at the breakfast table to wrap my gifts.  As I sat cutting folding and taping, I caught sight of a bounding fluff of gray crossing the floor and then hopping into the cupboard.  After a double-take, I confirmed it was not a ball of dog fur (known in these parts as 'Strider down').  'Strider down' is constantly and abundantly shed upon the floor where it gathers into rodent-morphological shapes and is then blown deceptively across the room, mimicking mice. 
This was no drill. 
I was not deceived. 
It was the Christmas Mouse!

After I set my gifts to the family beneath the tree, I set a couple of gifts for the Christmas Mouse.  I decided to gift him with peanut butter (creamy style) coated cheddar cheese wrapped in a snappy little apparatus.  Apparently he was delighted, as the next morning he had enjoyed the yuletide morsels and vacated the pantry leaving behind an undisturbed apparatus plus a few turds.

I was now in a generous mood, so I regifted him with more cheese and PB, one location in the pantry and one next to the fridge.  He was pleased to accept what I offered.  Same results and a few more turds.  I then got preoccupied with the holidays and such and left my traps unbaited.

Husband Failure:  "Mark, we have a mouse problem in our kitchen"  I am told by my wife.  I admitted that I already knew that, and I had tried to deal with the Christmas Mouse, but he had taken complete advantage of my hospitality and then I kind of figured I'd let him go on until New Year.  That was going to be my one resolution - No Christmas Mouse on Ground Hog's Day. 
"Deal with it" she says with her eyes.

It was now a week or so into January and I needed reminding that I had a problem to deal with.  I returned to the PB & Cheddar (one of Elvis' favorite sandwiches) and I worked very hard, at the risk of breaking a nail, to set the trigger mechanism on a very light touch.  As if carrying a ticking bomb, I knelt to the floor with my trap gently gripped between index finger and thumb.  It's all in the wrist I remind myself as I gently place the trap on the floor, unjarred, unsprung.  Yes, when it comes to catching mice, I am the "Unsprung Hero."

It was not but a minute or two before the crack of my sprung trap alerted me to a chance for validation, either immediate gratification or immediate mortification.  Ding Dong. The Christmas Mouse has tasted his last PB & Cheddar.  But I left the second trap in the pantry just in case.  The next morning, my suspicions were confirmed, no more Dasher, and now no more Dancer.

Still not completely confident I had atoned for my earlier failure, I left one baited trap out.  I noticed someone has been licking off the creamy peanut butter and not eating their cheese!  I retired from the field to plan my next strategy while watching playoff football.

"Mark, we still have a mouse problem."  Yeah, I thought so, I am thinking about it. 

"No.  He's in the pantry right now."

No more time for thought, this requires action.  I grab the fireplace ash shovel and stride into the kitchen.  Sue is moving items out from the pantry floor one at a time while I stand poised to strike.  I spanked her lightly with the shovel while she was engrossed in the mouse hunt - maybe that was not a good time to play.  Once we get beyond the last few boxes of mac & cheese, like Captain Ahab aloft in the rigging of the Pequot; the cry is heard, "There He is!" as she points to a tail hiding behind the canned plum sauce, "There He is!"

Sue is not really anything close to a squeamish girl, but nobody really wants to watch reality whack-a-mole played when blood and brains could be involved.  She left the room. 

I reminded her, "Not to fear my 'Little Lady', why I once battled a rat in my kitchen as a graduate student, finally emerging victorious after stabbing the rat through the throat with a blade screwdriver."  This is a story she knows well, and is the primary reason that she asked me marry her.

After a few loud and clanging "practice shots", I connected and scooped up the body and paraded Christmas Mouse #3 (Donner) out to the mighty mouse grave yard.

Back to my mid-winter's nap.