Catching up

As usual, Shad has inspired me (sarcasm does not always come out well in the written word). I have now also decided to bring my blog out of hiatus. Last reported in August, hard to remember all that has happened since then. That's kind of sad because kind of the point of the blog was to preserve my memories.

Well let's see if we can hit on the major points: I started my new beat as the education reporter for my local newspaper. Never really wanted to talk about work much on this blog, because I am there for eight hours a day and that is enough. But for the sake of prosperity I will. The job is kind of an emotional roller coaster. One minute I am loving it with the new, fun stories I get to cover, and the next not so much, but that usually has to do with the business of being employed (Let's just say its a bad idea to complain about your employer on a public web site). Job has kept me very busy. In fact, work is really starting to interfere with my personal life.

On September 5, Katie turned 13 years old.

They grow up so fast. She got a new 'Hissy Kitty' toy to play with.

On Sept. 9, Michele turned, um...another year older. We had a small informal gathering the night before at Village Inn with her gang. She has her gang, I have mine. Sometimes they overlap. I gave her pork rinds and Pepsi. Hey, she asked for it - in a round-about way.

On Sept. 15, Texie, Owen and I, went to Ricki's 30th birthday party. She went all out with a roasted pig and even live bands. I've always known the girl knew how to party.

Jon, being the bad influence that he is, somehow convinced us to go to Las Vegas. So after

getting home from work on a Friday night, we threw some things in a bag and hit the road. Hey, its hard to say no to a free room and ride.

Half the fun of going to Sin City is all the people. And as usual it did not disappoint. We went to Freemont street and saw the lady with the really big sign. It read: "Jesus Christ shall Destroy Sinners with Cruel Wrath and Fierce anger."

I actually talked to her, so did several other people, she had very strong opinions. You would have to with such a large sign. There was some yelling, but most just saw her as another Vegas attraction. I love freedom of speech. I wonder where she goes on vacation.

We saw this guy on the way to Freemont Street. He told me his name was Rodeo. He was wearing two different boots. His only opinion is that he wanted me to buy him a beer, even though he had one sitting next to him. I wonder where he goes on vacation.

We were in Vegas for less than 48 hours, but road trips are always good for the soul.

I believe I have mentioned, if only slightly, all the major adventures in September. With the TV writers on strike, maybe I can catch up on October and November before December starts.

Nathaniel Manor

When searching for a house, features such as square footage, number of bathrooms and vaulted ceilings can be what some are looking for. But I have learned it is the features you can't buy that end up being the most important.

When I was looking for our first house, I knew I wanted a good backyard. First, it had to be fenced for our dog, Katie. After years of not being let off her leash, during apartment living, I just wanted her to be able to chase a tennis ball with reckless abandon.

It had to have a sprinkler system, because I wanted to be able to have my own green grass in between my toes, and we do not have the attention spans to remember to move a sprinkler around.

When we were looking at houses, I would immediately head for the backdoor to see the yard, because I knew it would make or break the deal for me. The house we ended up in is really small, but it has a big backyard that butts up against the trees of the city park.

Over the four years we have lived here, some of my favorite things I didn't know about when we made the offer to buy the house.

Besides having no neighbors behind us, being next to the city park has a lot of perks. On many summer days we can hear chants of "faster, faster, faster" from kids on the merry-go-round. We are also near the amphitheatre, which allows us to hear all the free concerts we want from our backyard. We have heard the faint sounds of jazz, rock and even the band America.

The park also has a stream that leads to a duck pond. During the spring we have had mama ducks lead their babies right through our back yard, and I have actually fed ducks off my front porch.

To the north of our backyard, their is a pasture with horses. While they spend most their days head down to the ground eating grass, we have seen them frolic, gallop and other horsey things -- sometimes they are downright majestic. But our favorite thing about this pasture is Fernando.

This is the name we have given the brown and white bull (with full horns still attached), who hangs out with the horses. Fernando looks as fierce as if he came straight from a bull fight in Spain, but the few times I have attempted to make contact over the fence, he snorts and runs away like a scared puppy. I have no idea Fernando's real name or the reason that someone would own a bull, but I think I like it that way.

One of the best features of my house comes only once a year on the Fourth of July. We don't have to worry about getting a good parking space and finding a spot for our blanket, because from our backyard we can see the city's fireworks each year.

Although this site advocates going, seeing and doing, sometimes you don't have to go far from home to do it.

The forest smells like Pine-Sol

We went camping last weekend, and nothing really happened -- this is a good thing.

In past camping trips, we've had flat tires (yes, plural on the same trip), got flooded out of our camp site (again, same trip) and lost car keys. So to have a camping trip where the most drama came from the fact that Erin's niece had the chickenpox, and her brother was watching her kids, was a nice change of pace.

<---the view from our campsite

While we did hike, fish, sleep in tents, sing campfire songs and, in general, breathe in a lot of fresh air, a lot of our camping experience revolves around food. Not sure what this says about us as campers, but I don't think we would do it if it wasn't for the S'mores, hobo dinners and roasting hot dogs over the fire.

The days leading up to our trip, I was excited to leave the trappings of modern life. As much as I love T.V., cell phones and the Internet, it was going to be nice to not have them for a couple days. However it only took a day for me to miss one of them.

At the beginning of me and Erin's jaunt through the woods, we found a pond with the weirdest little salamander type creatures, with feather like things on their heads. Later with the help of the guys we caught ourselves a few of them.

Here is the weirdest thing, they looked like axolotls, which are rare in the wild. In fact the only reason I know about axolotls is because they are rare and weird looking. The point is, it was driving me nuts and my fingers were itching for a keyboard to start my Internet search.

(When I got home I found out that they were baby tiger salamanders, which look a lot like axolotls.)

The salamanders and a few itty-bitty frogs where the only things we caught, proving that having license for something does not help. Even with all my fishing gear, and some of Ryan's, I was not able to even get a nibble while fishing. But a lot of the fun is just sitting out by the water, so I'm OK with that.

Ryan did catch a fish, but I was not there to witness it. My theory is that he bought it off another fisherman, to make me jealous, or to help keep my hopes up. I was starting to believe there were no fish.

<--- Erin is "impressed" with Ryan's catch

On the second night Jolynda and Matt joined us, which was great. I know we don't really rough it, but their air mattress turns into a couch-- so we are a little more rough than them.

At night there were more stars than darkness, and it was so quiet my ears had to make up for it by buzzing. The guys gathered firewood, and in general got to feel manly-- Erin and I could feel the rise in testosterone. Erin didn't have to put honey on my toes to protect herself from bears -- the most wild creatures we saw were the chipmunks and squirrels all over camp. Ryan did melt his shoes -- drying them by the fire -- but this was not a big surprise.

Overall it was a perfect trip. The only thing I regret is the fact that we couldn't have stayed just a little longer.

On a side note: for two days in the woods we take a lot, I mean a lot of stuff. If I went to vegas for a weekend I would only take one backpack, but spend three to four times as much money. But when I go camping I take 10 times more stuff.

It's not camping without the dogs, even if we barely had room for them.

Satan Kitty

The following is a random story from my life. I had pictures, but as most know, things get lost in moves, even if they are digital. In my recent move to a different office, the photos did not make it to my new computer. Please try to use your imagination for the visuals.

One day going to my old office on base, I saw this little streak of gray run into a hole in the building. At first I thought I had imagined it, but later, I saw it again.

It looked like they were doing maintenance on the building and had left this panel off, and I didn't want any little kittens to get trapped under the building when they were done, so on my lunch I bought an extra hamburger. Also not wanting my fellow employees to know how nuts I was, I did not tell them my plan. At first I thought it would be easy, lure the kitten out with hamburger and be done with it. but the moment it saw me it disappeared so I figured I had to be sneakier. So I hid off to the side of the hole. It came out a second time but I was not fast enough. I did notice that the little grey kitty looked dirty and skinny, making me want to save it even more. Then I made a trail of hamburger so it had to come a little further out. But by this time it was starting to get a little more skittish. I sat their crouched by the side of the building, for like 15 minutes just hoping no one would come out and think I was crazy.

After much patience my moment arrived and with both hands I (gently) pinned him to the ground. Well what was previously a sweet hungry kitten turned into Satan's cat. Every muscle in his body was tense and although he was pinned on his tummy he turned his head around and looked at me with such hatred it reminded me of Linda Blair in the Exorcist (hence the name), and let out this hiss/ growl noise that made my soul quiver a little. So I have got the kitten trapped, but now I am also trapped. I know if I give this kitten a seconds chance he (I found out the sex later) will bloody me as much as his little claws will allow before streaking back under the building. Well I manage to make it to my feet and walk to the office door, but with my hands full, I can't open it. I realize it's either let go with one hand and risk being scarred for life or getting my coworker's help. I kick the door and luckily a cat owner opens it. But I look deranged, all sweaty and holding this (back to sweet looking) kitten at arms length, screaming "No don't touch!" Well they get me a box and I quickly put him in and try to let go and shut the flap at the same time.

I put the box on the floor of the my car, hoping he won't try to escape, sending me careening off the road. However he was very quiet, which actually makes me more nervous -- like he is plotting his revenge. I make it to the base vet safely. I tell them my story (they already know me - surprise). They put him in a kennel with some water. He hides in the back and hisses when we come near. Although I'm glad he is no longer in danger of starving to death under my building a little bit of my care has warn off -- I am actually glad to be rid of him.

As is policy the vet will call animal control. who will pick him up. But I know, and they warn me, that if he remains feral and wild, he will not be adopted. So the next day I call Davis Country animal control to inquire about him. They know nothing of the Satan cat of which I speak. Turns out a little food and water will go a long way.

Over the few days after I left him, Satan kitty got sweeter and melted the staffs' hearts and they couldn't bring themselves to call animal control. I went and visited and he had been exorcised. He was a little ball of playful fluff who liked to run up and down people's legs and curl up on their necks. He even started to doze a little in my arms as I stroked his belly. There was a part of me that wanted to take his home, but one of the staff member's children had already fallen in love (she had already paid for some of his vaccinations). So I was content with my part in this story with a happy ending, even if it was the part that was a brush from hell.

J.K., thanks for the adventure

Moments before midnight, screams of excitement rise from the mob of people, ranging from infants to the elderly, many of whom are dressed strangely. A policeman watches over the crowd in case anything gets out of control. Seconds before midnight someone begins to count down.

All of this for a book.

Growing up I was ashamed for being a bookworm. I was even accused of cheating at a read-a-thon by a teacher, for the amount of books I said I had read. But now tonight I stand with a crowd of hundreds at Barnes and Noble to get my copy of the last Harry Potter book "The Deathly Hallows," and feel vindicated in a way.

Luckily, Nichole decided to pick up our wristband first thing in the morning a few days before the sale, this got us into group D, so we did not have to wait to long to get our book. The line stretched passed Old Navy, Toys R Us and through the parking lot to Office Depot.

As group A walked out with the first copies of the book, they held them up and there was more cheering. It was fabulous. I was very impressed with Barnes and Nobles' organization. Nichole was in and out with our books within minutes. Although we will go home separately and read our books, I am so glad I get to share this experience with her.

No, I didn't wear a robes or put a lightening bolt on my forehead, but I love all the people who did. All of the characters were there from Hagrid to Dobby, to random wizards dressed as muggles (wearing all of the wrong things). Just like girls screaming for the Beatles, or those who owned pet rocks, being in this crowd makes me feel like a part of history.

As the book release came closer, I started to get what I called 'Harry Potter Anxiety' -- the fear that the ending would be leaked to me before I got to read it. I even heard that people would drive by and yell the ending. One person walking out with the book even had it opened to the last pages. This, my biggest fear, was not realized. While I am happy that everyone is so excited for these books, it makes me sad that technology and mean people would give away the ending. (But yes Erin, I will call you as soon as I am done, because it makes you happy)

My attention span for this blog is reaching it's end, as my book sits waiting for me. This will be my last venture to the Internet for a while, not only will I be busy reading my book, but I don't want to chance of even getting a hint to the end Harry, Ron and Hermione's story.

To my fellow bookworms, even if it is just Harry, Happy Reading!!

Feels so good to be bad

I found this on the bottom of my office chair, and I almost immediately ripped it off. I say almost because I did have a second of doubt -- I am not a complete monster with no conscience. After determining that no harm would come to the chair, it was like I couldn't not rip it off.

What's interesting is that ripping the tag off was not the first rule I broke. I have owned this chair for years, and until discovering this tag underneath the seat, have never known how oppressive it really was. Without even trying I have done almost everything on this list that the chair told me not to because it would cause serious injury (they never warn against funny injuries).

I guess what it comes down to, is that I don't like my furniture to tell me what to do. I realize they put these warnings on things because of people who don't understand that using a swivel chair, with wheels on the bottom, as a step ladder is not a good idea. At times I can even be this person. But just as I don't believe inanimate objects can tell how to use them, I also believe that they cannot be held responsible for my serious -- or funny -- injuries when I use them to hang my disco ball on the ceiling.

This is what happens to soda machines that get caught stealing thirsty people's money

What's behind door #1?

I have read the factiod several times (usually in women's magazines) that the cleanest stall in public restrooms is the first one, because it is the least used. This is due partly to the fact that people feel they have more privacy the further they are from the door.

I am not sure how men do it, but most women are very concerned with restroom cleanliness -- resorting to hovering, covering the seat in tissue paper or just holdinging it. Becuase of this, I believe that many women, after learning of this factiod, will begin choosing the first stall.

And here in lies the problem. As people learn the first stall is the cleanest because of it's under use, and then begin to use it, this will begin to make it the most used and in turn the dirtiest -- thereby making this factiod no longer true.

Suburb girl in the big city

I love big cities -- there's always so much going on. It seems like I always see something of interest. To be honest, I haven't been in a lot of big cities, so I love going to MY big city -- Salt Lake. Over the last few weeks I have found myself in Salt Lake City a lot for various reasons. Here are a couple random things that have left impressions on me.

Hagrid sighting

First let me explain that I love I what I call "fringe people" -- those who live on the fringes of what most consider normal society. Partly it's because I am jealous that they have the courage to buck tradition and live as they choose. Or if it's not by choice, I wonder what it took for them to get there. This ranges from people who have tattoos covering every inch of their body to those who have all of their worldly possessions in a shopping cart.

By taking photos of them, I do not mean to exploit, but to celebrate those who most "normal" people ignore or advert their eyes from on the street.

Recently I saw a dead ringer for Hagrid, from the Harry Potter books. He was crossing State Street by the LDS church buildings. Although I noticed him right away. Those crossing with him didn't even bat an eye.

That brown area in his midsection is not part of his shirt, but due to the fact is his pants are undone and his sun-weathered, street grime covered belly is there for all to see. (Sorry for the spots, but I was taking the photos through my windshield.)

As he got closer to the car, I saw some more details. First his finger nails are really long. I can never get mine that long and I am sure I get more of the recommended daily vitamins for a human. I wondered if they served some sort of a purpose for him, but if he can't be bothered to zip his pants, I am guessing trimming the nails is out of the question.

Next I noticed he seemed to be eating a rice crispy treat. I think most people see others like Hagrid and put him in the "them" category. As in "us and them." Thinking "I would never become one of them."Or "I have nothing in common with them." But most would be surprised by how little separates "us and them." The rice crispy treat is an example of this. Who doesn't love a rice crispy treat or wouldn't love to walk around with their pants comfortably undone, if no one was watching?

That's my street

There is something that people just love about seeing their own name. This would be the reason for all those license plates, pencils and notebooks sold in souvenir shops. *Well I am no different (I probably like it more considering I am a writer).

I recently did an art project for a friend about travel and thought a street sign with her name would be great to for this. I found a web site that locates streets in the United States with whatever name you searched for. If a personalized pencil is cool, a whole street is way cool.

This would explain my frantic U-Turn on 100 South on Friday. That is when I found My Street -- Elizabeth St. (without even using the website). I love that it's right in the middle of downtown Salt Lake. There was even a woman with a dog sitting on the grass nearby, reading something I am sure was very intellectual.

It's a fabulous tree-lined street with Victorian-like houses. It is kind of small, almost like an alley. That doesn't bother me -- what's upsetting is it has a terrible dip in it, which I scraped the undercarriage of the car on. Because I want my street to represent Elizabeth's everywhere well, maybe I will write a letter to the city to see about getting that dip fixed.

*this is NOT a hint to begin buying me things with my name printed or embroidered on them. I don't like it that much.

My artsy fartsy day

For years and years I wanted to go the Utah Arts Festival. But inevitably every year something would come up, or I would forget about it. Last year was different. I finally made an effort to remember and I also had just gotten my Nikon D50. I spent the day taking photos of people and things. It seemed that the day was just bursting with interesting sights and sounds.

(small tangent: In fact I have just hung up one of the photos that I took at last year's festival on my living room wall.)

Because last year was so good, I made a point of going again today. But is seems the shine has worn off. I don't know if it was the heat, or that it seemed that there wasn't as much artsy stuff, or that it was a lot of the same stuff, but I guess as with many things in life, nothing is like your first time.

I like going to these sorts of things because I feel like I get my culture fix -- meet artists and see wacky/beautiful/original ideas. This year I noticed that it seemed so commercial. Besides the fact that I paid $4 for a Dr. Pepper that would cost me .79 at 7-11. Avon even had a big tent set up, when did Avon become art? I found out that a booth cost $600. How is a starving artist supposed to afford that? And not to say that art is not priceless, but the art I liked I could not afford on my budget. So although I did see some cool things, I felt that it had become more corporate to me, and in turn lost some of it's appeal. In fact, I took only a few photos and was feeling very uninspired.

On my way home I stopped by a building, my friend, Erin had told me about. It was to be torn down, and the owner invited artists to do whatever they wanted to it. When she first told me I thought it would just be a mess of graffiti. But the moment I saw it I was in love.

The outside is completely covered with color-- from graffiti art to things that would be at home in a museum. It was beautiful and indescribable (that's why I took a lot of photos). In the few rooms on that I could go in, there was art using manikins, shoes, strings, even the floor was painted. By the different styles you could tell that many people had a contributed. There was so much to see that it was hard to take it all in.

What I really thought was great was that, I sure without a lot of planning, all of art flowed together perfectly. There were no boundaries but nobody overstepped theirs. And of course I got some awesome photos.

I met one of the artists on the way out of the building and he told me that the reason I couldn't go in was because it was slated for demolish soon. He was just as in awe as I was about what can happen to a building when total creativity was let loose on it. It's hard to believe that they are still going to tear it down. (he also told me that contractors hired to tear it down said they feel the same way, and it's going to be hard for them to destroy it.)

I just find it interesting that in my 30 minutes at this building, I felt I had seen more, and more amazing, art than I did at my four hours at the arts festival (no offense meant to those artist at the festival -- there was some incredible stuff.) I have often believed that art is indefinable, but now I do have photographic evidence of what it is to me.

Normally I like asking the questions more than answering them, but every once in a while these quizzes are fun (again it's more fun to read about other people). This is also my way of blogging, even if it is a kind of a cop out.

1. What bill do you hate paying the most? The credit card – because it’s the monster I can’t seem to slay
2. Where was the last place you had a romantic dinner? My couch
3. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No
4. If you could go back and change one thing what would it be?Can’t think of anything because who knows what it would lead to. (Ever read “Sound of Thunder”)
5. Name of your first grade teacher?Miss. Dahl. Saw her years later and she had gotten married and now is Mrs. Guy. Get it – Guys and Dolls.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?There are so many, but getting on a plane to somewhere exotic would be good. But sitting on the couch in the air conditioning right now is good too.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?Also so many – ballerina, veterinarian, lawyer, president, private eye…
8. How many colleges did you attend?One
9. Why did you choose the shirt that you have on right now?It was there and comfy.
10. GAS PRICES?make me sad
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you?That’s not really a question. Would it be different if I couldn’t take someone. I would move to the equator, if I could take everyone I like with me.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?I don’t think. I am on autopilot until I get to work.
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?I don’t know I fell asleep.
14. Favorite style of underwear?Cotton, high cuts
(don't know what happened to 15)
16. What errand/chore do you despise?mopping cause I need new flooring in the kitchen
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer?yes, for literacy and animals.
18. Get up early or sleep in?sleep in
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?I just realized I don’t think I have one.
20. Favorite thing to do at night with a girl?Any girl? I am a girl do I count? This one also confusing.
21. Have you found real love yet?All love is real, so yes
22. When did you first start feeling old?Currently I am not, but I have had moments. Example when someone asked me if they had cell phones when I was in high school.
23. Favorite 80's movie?Breakfast Club
24. Your favorite lunch meat?deli sliced roast beef (I actually left shad’s answer cause it’s mine too)
25. What do you get every time you go into Sam's Club?Amazed at what you can buy in bulk
26. Beach or lake?Lakes have beaches
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?yes
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?gossip30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?Not ashamed of any of my favorites31. What's your drink?Dr. Pepper
32. Cowboys or Indians?Can’t we all just get along
33. Cops or Robbers?same as above
34. Who from high school would you like to run into?Usually avoid that sort of thing – but seeing April would be nice
35. What radio station is your radio tuned to right now?103.5
36. Norm or Cliff?Norm
37. The Cosby Show or The Simpsons?Simpsons
38. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?life would be boring without mistakes, no taking back
39. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?Nobody sits across from me.
40. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?Drew Carey
43. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?No
44. Last book you read for real?The Memory Keepers Daughter (for real?what? you can fake reading a book)
45. Do you have a teddy bear?yes
46. Strangest place you have ever brushed your teeth?In the car
47. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go? California in general would be good. LA would be cool.
48. Do you go to church?No.
49. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or a new relationship?NEW CAREER – anyone know of some openings
50. Just how OLD are you?30 (wow that was the first time I’ve had to write that and it didn’t hurt as bad as I thought)

She works hard for the money

Work is a strange thing. At the core of it, the majority of us go to work because we need to eat and stay out of the rain -- whether it's McDonald's or you spent years in medical school.

If it was all about money, it would actually be easier. But I always said I would rather love my job than be rich. (This is apparent from the fact I have been wearing the same boots for 3 years and drive a 12 year old car.) I also never liked the fact that people seemed defined by their job. When first meeting people, the question most likely asked is "what do you do?"

I would really like to make money doing what I like (and what, I think, I am pretty good at). OK I know everybody else does too. If this was possible we would have a world full of trampoline testers, cowboys and restaurant critics, to name a few.

So if it was all about enjoyment or all about money, it would be easier to decide how to spend my days, but since it is a tangled combination of both (also throw in a bit of self worth and sense of purpose), my path is unclear.

Bag of ducklings

Not sure where to start this post -- with my friend, Erin's phone call or my overwhelming craving to hold baby animals.

Living by the park, I get to see ducklings every spring, and I never get sick of it. Erin called me this afternoon telling me that her and Ryan took the kids to the park, and had saved a duckling from being drowned by some adult ducks. While they had saved it from eminent death, now they didn't know what to do with it. I threw on my flip flops, grabbed a net and a canvas bag, and practically ran over there.

When I got there, it turned out that there were more ducklings in peril. There were nine ducklings total without a mother in sight. So Ryan began attempting to catch them with the net.

Although they were so small that they were getting swept up my the current of the small stream, they were wily in the water, and not easy to catch without getting in the water. So we ran up and down the bank as they swam up and down, from one side of the to other. We had the kids go try to scare them to the side we were on, but they were very good at staying right out of reach. I even crawled on my belly, and got three in one scoop.

As we caught the ducklings, we put the them in the bag I brought. Believe it or not, they seemed pretty happy in the bag. After frantically swimming away from crazy people with nets, the ducklings cuddled up with each other and fell asleep.

We knew they were too little to be without a mom, but we weren't sure if what we were doing was right. Was it illegal to take them? Would their mother be back? Would they be fine on there own?

We decided to call the Tracey Aviary, who gave us the number of a bird rehab lady, who not only told us that not only would she take them, but they would die that night if left on their own.

With a renewed sense of purpose and only one very difficult duckling left, Ryan, the mighty hunter, got into the water.

With Ryan a little soggy and a bag full of ducks, we headed back to my house. Owen was nice enough to make a little coral with boxes in the backyard, complete with a dog dish pool. Further proof that ducks liked their bag, when I placed them on the grass, most of them just stayed cuddled up in it.

Then we got to fulfill my baby animal dreams and just played with the tiny, adorable, fluffy ducklings in my sunny backyard for awhile. Although I was having so much fun, I felt something was missing.

Can't explain why I wanted ducks in my bathtub but I did. Although he thinks I am nuts, Owen filled up the tub and we let them swim around for awhile.

The kids kept asking to keep one (and I really wanted to also), but the ducklings had needed to go to those who knew how to raise them. We ended up taking them to the Ogden Nature Center (the duck rehab lady lived an hour away).

We did stop at my friend Nichole's house to spread around the joy that only ducklings can bring. At her house we also filled up her sink and let them swim around -- see, it's not just me.

Everyone at the nature center was very nice, but they kind of laughed when I brought in the bag full of ducks. I explained that they really did like it.

So what started with an almost drowning has a happy ending -- and my canvas bag will mostly likely be referred to as the duck bag from now on.