The Olympic venue has gotten so out of hand, with hosting countries spending billions of their own currencies to keep up with what seems to be expected of them.
Such a waste.
Such a waste, also, is the media hype pointing out all the things seemingly going wrong in our host country's venue. Not just in our Winter Olympics 2014, but in years prior as well.
Media hypesters (Is that a word? Did I just coin a new 2014 soundbite??) need to mind their manners and not point out every little thing they find wrong about Russia's Olympics. We are guests. We certainly might not agree with any political points with Russia, but these are the Olympics, not politics, and, again, we are guests. It's an international sports venue. Stop pointing out the same posted toilets and manholes and cups of water.
I would like the media to stop being rude guests.
Friday, February 07, 2014
Tuesday, February 04, 2014
American Gothic: 30 years
We were planning on Japanese cuisine to celebrate our thirty long years of wedded bliss, but Mother Nature stepped in last night, in a great white way. The phone rang at 6:30 this morning.
"I'm not getting it. Don't get it." I said.
I assumed it was some customer (orchard grower) from China. For some reason they never seem to accurately gauge Central Standard Time. I get calls anywhere from 2:00 am and beyond. It used to be unsettling when our kids were high school and college-aged, getting a call in the wee hours of the night. Even more unsettling when, in a sleepy stupor, I could not make out the language or accent of the person calling.
From the living room I heard a booming male voice (note to self: turn down the volume on that answering machine.), explaining that he was so and so from US Department of Agriculture (Manhattan), and all offices would be closed today.
So one would think that this would be a snow day for that Spouse o' Mine, but he reckoned that the halls and offices would be empty, thus giving him uninterrupted work hours, and off he went, into the quarter-mile visibility of white.
After lunch I went out and performed my third shoveling of the day (I learned in our Michigan years that a quick shovel of fluffy flakes every few hours beats a massive, liquid-laden shovel at the end of the day, hands-down. The snow had not abated one whit all day, and the wind had picked up. The drifts were drifting more and more. So I called that Spouse o' Mine and gave him the rural road weather report; he might like to start home, or else plan to spend the night at some farm or ranch down the road.
We opted to take a snow-check of the Japanese cuisine, and instead, took our XC skis out of the tack room and headed for the Wabaunsee Nordic Ski center. Also known as our pasture. It was a good time, with my best friend.
"I'm not getting it. Don't get it." I said.
I assumed it was some customer (orchard grower) from China. For some reason they never seem to accurately gauge Central Standard Time. I get calls anywhere from 2:00 am and beyond. It used to be unsettling when our kids were high school and college-aged, getting a call in the wee hours of the night. Even more unsettling when, in a sleepy stupor, I could not make out the language or accent of the person calling.
From the living room I heard a booming male voice (note to self: turn down the volume on that answering machine.), explaining that he was so and so from US Department of Agriculture (Manhattan), and all offices would be closed today.
So one would think that this would be a snow day for that Spouse o' Mine, but he reckoned that the halls and offices would be empty, thus giving him uninterrupted work hours, and off he went, into the quarter-mile visibility of white.
After lunch I went out and performed my third shoveling of the day (I learned in our Michigan years that a quick shovel of fluffy flakes every few hours beats a massive, liquid-laden shovel at the end of the day, hands-down. The snow had not abated one whit all day, and the wind had picked up. The drifts were drifting more and more. So I called that Spouse o' Mine and gave him the rural road weather report; he might like to start home, or else plan to spend the night at some farm or ranch down the road.
We opted to take a snow-check of the Japanese cuisine, and instead, took our XC skis out of the tack room and headed for the Wabaunsee Nordic Ski center. Also known as our pasture. It was a good time, with my best friend.
Monday, February 03, 2014
My Gosh.
Where did the time go?
I met a grad student when I was twenty.
And now I am fifty-three and have been married to the grad student for thirty years.
Two countries, nine homes, three kids, and a whole lot of miles cycling together.
It goes so fast.
My parents called today. They have been married 64 years, last month.
So fast, so fast...
I met a grad student when I was twenty.
And now I am fifty-three and have been married to the grad student for thirty years.
Two countries, nine homes, three kids, and a whole lot of miles cycling together.
It goes so fast.
My parents called today. They have been married 64 years, last month.
So fast, so fast...
Frightful? Delightful? Stay tuned...
This morning in rural Kansas, the temperature was -1ยบ and sunny. We
have about 4" of snow on the ground, and this is what the forecast holds
for Wabaunsee Road tonight and tomorrow, and perhaps into Wednesday:
Yes
- that red blob encapsulates Wabaunsee Road. Although the forecasters
are calling for inches and inches of snow ("Maybe even a foot!"), I
suspect that those who think they are in the know want to make sure we
Kansans don't pull a Birmingham this week.
We shall sit back, XC skis at the ready, and wait. For a dusting? A Storm of the Century? Who in the world knows, with weather forecasting as iffy as it is nowdays.
We shall sit back, XC skis at the ready, and wait. For a dusting? A Storm of the Century? Who in the world knows, with weather forecasting as iffy as it is nowdays.
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