Ponderosa

I don't remember if Ponderosa is a buffet restaurant or not, but I like the sound of the word so for the sake of the blog today it is a buffet restaurant.

As most people who know me know, I have a giant, insatiable girl crush on Edna St. Vincent Millay, who died oh, 60 years ago. The Washington Post on Saturday did an article about the restoration of her famous farmhouse near Albany, NY and it got me all a-flutter again. I am thinking that if/when I go to the Hudson Valley for Caroline's wedding this fall I shall have to pop up there to look around. I can't help it, my love runs deep. She was an ass-kicker.

Rita threw a martini party on Sunday night and as is the case with situations where people drink out of tiny glasses that are chock full o' straight liquor, it got crazy quickly. After two I switched to cranberry juice so I just to got watch the magic happen. Thanks for that, Rita!

(Nate was J.Crew swanky-tastic at the party. Dan, on the other hand, came straight from his soccer game...oh the freedom of Asheville)

I may be taking a road trip later this week. I'll keep the blog posted.

I can't tell you how many times I've had someone say to me, "I know what you've been up to...don't worry, I read your blog." and it has never ceased to make me crack up laughing. It hasn't gotten me fired just yet (though it got me in some hot water last year) so I guess I'll just keep plugging along.

So Hasbro has also changed the look/characters/format of CLUE. No revolver? No Wrench? No longer Colonel Mustard? For this and the Trivial Pursuit debacle I banish Hasbro to the shit list. Way to crap on the best games out there, Hasbro.

If you have time to kill and need to laugh, go look up Chelsea Handler on YouTube. Just about anything you can watch is hilarious.

Dear neighbor who just got WiFi and has an unsecured network that reaches into my living room,
Kisses.
Love,
Sarah Spooner

I think I've been in nesting mode. The other night it was almost 1am and I was scrubbing my light switch cover because it looked dirty. This is not my normal behavior. "Nesting Mode" for me looks differently than it does for others, as I don't even own a houseplant.

Went out to dinner with Katherine and Andy on Saturday night and didn't realize til the end of the meal that the entire time Andy and I argued about fantasy football. Yet another reason I love those two.

Rabbit Trail

Another "weekend" and another adventure with Jonathan. This is becoming a habit. We had great plans to drive to Rockbridge to hear my dear friend Hatcher speak but the drive was just too long and Jonathan didn't finish up work until much later so the VA adventure had to be scrapped for something local. It was for the best; that would have been a bit of a stretch.
We headed to Max Patch, a 4600' bald peak about an hour northwest of Asheville that has what many consider to be the best views in an area full of breathtaking views. We had the place to ourselves (lucky us! Pays to have Tuesday be my Saturday!) and the short trip to the top afforded us plenty of time to settle into the quiet beauty and watch the sunset. Lovely as always. I haven't enjoyed a sunset like that in much too long.

Wednesday we took our time getting going and finally headed out on gravel roads barely wide enough for two cars (luckily we didn't even see another car the whole time) that took us down into Tennessee. I don't tire of seeing miles and miles of young forest.
After a greasy lunch and more exploring we stopped at Big Creek in the Great Smokey National Park for a chance to have a cold mountain stream all to ourselves. After a quick dip we reclined on boulders in the creek, soaking up the sunlight and smelling clean the way one does after experiencing water like that. We watched goldfinches make their way to the water to take their own baths, their yellow feathers splashing and fluffing.

On the hike out we were sort of making our own way back to the camper and I got worried we were on a rabbit trail. Is that what ya'll call them, rabbit trails? Those paths in the woods that look promising, look like they lead somewhere, and then dead end at nothing in particular? I've been thinking about rabbit trails since then and in ways that have nothing to do with hiking. Surprise, I found a metaphor.
Really I've been thinking about hope but since I haven't fully formulated my thoughts on the matter I just leave you knowing that's what I'm thinking about. Not that I really expect you to care, but FYI.

GAMES!

In honor of the graciousness Leslie showed me with the gift of Trivial Pursuit, 20th Anniversary Edition (and the smack talking from Kelly and Emilie) I've decided to take a long hard look at the games in my life, those I love and those I don't. It's an important thing to reflect upon.
And so, dear readers, a list.

Games I do not actually enjoy:

Settlers of Cattan. No offense to Marystuart or the McGlades but I seriously don't like this game. Maybe it's because I only tried it once, but I have the attention span of a goldfish...can't handle something this focused. Don't give a crap if I have enough wood or rocks or whatever to build whatever I'm supposed to build. To help with this point, I'd like to reference Robin's blogpost (scroll down, it's funny) about our experience trying to play Settlers last summer. It was when I knew Robin and I would be good friends, and when "bible joke" became a, well, joke.

War Games. Maybe it's cuz I was too young, but come on, Matthew Broderick, it's a computer. It can't be worse than Windows Vista.

Mind Games. Not the kind like "Simon" where you had to push the colors and remember the "beep boo bah beep beep" noise and color combo, that game...kicked its ass. I spanked that sucka. No I mean the kind people play on each other. That'll drive you nuts.

Monopoly. Why must this game take 47 years to play? Can't it just be quick? Can't my sister not be the banker and steal money and property when I wasn't looking (oh wait, I did that. Pays to be the less ADHD person in the fam)? Can't I not end up with Oriental Place and instead get something nice, like Indiana or Kentucky? Why does my sister get to be the scottie and I have to be the boot? This game sucks. Anything involving math or finance isn't fun.

Foolish Games. I'm sorry Jewel, but you are annoying as crap. I mean I owned "Pieces of You" just like everyone else, and Foolish Games isn't nearly as bad as "Hands" but still, that song sucks. Why is taking a coat off and standing in the rain "crazy like that"? Maybe he was hot. Maybe it was a leather coat. He's got reasons. Leave him be, Jewel.

Reindeer Games. Can't remember who was in this movie, but I think it's Ben Affleck and therefore it probably sucked. I have a sort of love/hate thing with Ben Affleck. It's complicated.

Twister. If I wanted physical contact from strangers I'd offer them tequila. Point is, I don't want physical contact. I don't think having some guy named Steve's armpit sitting on my eyeball is a "good time". That is not fun. I don't want Steve's socks anywhere near my face, no matter what the friggin' spinner is telling me to do.

Operation. If I wanted to play a game that would show me how not right I am for a certain occupation I'd play Risk or Guitar Hero or Sim City. This game just says, "Hey shaky hands, I got something new for you to suck at!" Listen, Operation man: You are overweight, you got shit stuck all in your body, your bones are remarkably disproportional and judging by the color of that schnoz of yours you've probably been hittin' the bottle a little too hard. I ain't helping you, jackass. I'm keeping my shaky hands to my self.

The Game. I think you were some member of 50 Cent's entourage. That's all I know, and that's all I want to know. Entourages shouldn't step out from entouraging.

The Game of Life. This game always pissed me off because I was a tiny pink stick person in a convertible who had to get married and have lots of babies and then go around to giant plastic houses and deal with money. If I wanted to play that game, I'd grow up.

Sabbath

Sometimes 'weekends' need to be a long sabbath and that's it.

After an extremely long and surprisingly stressful week at work, my weekend (Tuesday and Wednesday) needed to be a time to decompress, sleep, get the kink out of my neck and stop my eye from twitching. I'd say that's pretty ambitious.

So I skipped Quizzo on Monday (I know, shock, I actually skip Quizzo. I love it dearly but I was exhausted and in pain and didn't want to use my brain) to go to bed early and get rather intimate with a tube of Ben-Gay. That may have sounded weirder than I meant but I'm leaving it in. My blog, dammit. Mine. I haven't been sleeping well, as when I go to bed my room is a sauna but around 2:30am it is more fridge-like so there is a lack of consistency that is necessary to get to that blissful REM state.

My friend Katherine and I decided to abandon downtown Asheville on Tuesday and high tail it to the hills; Hot Springs to be exact. We spent most of the day laying in the cooling waters of the French Broad; small rapids doubled as cooling jets on our skin and we considered it a success when we both got goosebumps in August. Awesome. Perfect amount of sun and wind and water for a day.

(Katherine and her 8-month pregnant belly and the pretty heat rock she found to give Andy, her husband. A "Hey I played in a river all day but I got you a pretty rock" sort of present.)

We got back into town around 4, enough time to take a quick nap and shower before I drove south to Brevard and the Cradle of Forestry in Pisgah National Forest. I met Jonathan at the Ranger Station and hopped in the infamous VW and we drove up to the parking lot for Mt. Pisgah where we made dinner, sipped wine and watched the sun set over the Smokies.

We had great plans to do a night hike up Pisgah but a big bowl of pasta and two glasses of merlot will do wonders to hiking ambition. Instead we talked til the moon was setting and pulled out the pop-top mattress and laid it on the ground to look at the stars, which took up every spot in the sky. Jonathan has a computer program that will show the exact night sky based on coordinates and so we were able to identify constellations I've never known. I fell in love with Vega last night. It was cool enough for a fleece and when we finally went to bed around 3 the sleeping bags were necessary warmth. Oh blissful altitude. Wednesday morning brought a brunch at the overlook for the Cradle of Forestry, a meal including coffee, pancakes and, of course, the Diane Rehm show. I'd say it was the best Sabbath I've had in recent memory. How I love my times to live in kairos.(the Cradle of Forestry made me think of ESF and want to shout out to the foresters I didn't know and the forestry classes I didn't take. But approximation is a powerful thing from 14 hours and five years away)
(There was a vernal pool full of bull frog tadpoles. I loved the self-importance of their world)

Postcards

Dear LaDainian Tomlinson and Randy Moss,
You are the two anchors of my fantasy teams. Keep those knees healthy and those touchdowns coming, I need affirmation in life.
Love,
Spooner

Dear makers of Trivial Pursuit,
WTF? Where'd you go?
The whole point of board games is playing them WITHOUT electricity, so making a DVD version is STUPID. Come back, and bring your smug questions with you.
Love,
Spooner

Dear Narcolepsy,
Not cool.
Love,
Spooner

Dear Art Monk and Darrell Green,
Thank you for making me cry for the first time in months. And for those 20 years of awesome footballness for the 'Skins. Congrats on making it to the Hall of Fame. Fight for ol' DC, boys!
Love,
Spooner

Dear Pear Vodka,
Mixing you with anything makes you still suck.
No offense.
Love,
Spooner

Dear friends,
Next time I wear my contacts, don't stare and tell me "You look weird." I'm not Clark Kent, I look the same. Just without glasses.
Love,
Spooner