So Wood bought a new truck this weekend. The Ranger was just too small for the three of them, and it seems he has to haul the adult-sized children more and more. So what did he get,you ask?

A Honda.

A Honda Ridgeline. OOOOhhhhh.

He's been looking at this truck for about a year now, and I've been dragging my feet because of this or that (mainly the payment, and the fact that it doesn't affect me since I'm never the one who has to cram into the little leprechaun -size jumpseat.). Well, the time is now. He did most of his "shopping" on line, and last year we went to one of the dealers on the east side of town to look, but didn't drive, since we knew we weren't buying at that time. That dealership had a few Ridgelines on the lot, but all were top-of-the-line tricked out leather/compass/juicebox holder styles, way above our budget (budget-Ha).

So when we decided to actually get physical this time we weren't too sure we'd be able to find a regular old plain jane just a good stereo type model on the lot. Well, the internet search resulted in a phone call from a different dealership, one closer to home, so I told the Man we had an appointment at 10:00 am Saturday morning. Boy, for a guy buying a truck he sure made an ucky face and dragged his feet. Blamed it on benadryl. Ok, whatever.

So we get there. There's one on the lot. One. It's white. That's good, it's the preferred color. It's an 06. That's ok too, we're not proud. But it doesn't have the stereo configuration that he had his heart set on. But wait! There's an 07, back here, hot off the truck, barely checked in by the dealership! Be still his heart!

We do the drive around the block, getting to know the salesman, (recently relocated from Maryland, his lifelong home, wife and daughter came out in early summer, loving the complete absence of grass in his yard and the one-story house, had a rear-ender first thing after moving to town, has neck problems, is seeing an orthopedic/spine surgeon with whom (?) I work on occasion, prognosis looks good as soon as the lawyer settles and the insurance pays-ah, Vegas)
and it's a done deal.

So we do the paperwork, the credit app, go to the finace office, listen to his additional deals for warranties and such, sign here, shake hands, wait for the vehicle to be detailed for "delivery". Delivery? To the door around the corner. Whatever.

So now we're talking to the girl from the customer service department. Reminds me of Pooh.
A cutie, has a one-year old at home who likes to put everything in the toilet. Ah, the good old days of toddlers.

It's ready! Customer service cutie accomanies us out to give us the once over with the truck so we know all the cute buttons and warnings and where the hell the spare and jack are.

She shows us the trunk (a truck trunk!), and points out the release latch. "In case that dead body isn't really dead", I say. She looks at me and says "Right! Exactly!"

Then she points out the drain plug in the bottom of the truck/trunk, and turns to me and says "And if you need to rinse it out, all you have to do is hose it out and let it drain! In case, well, you know." "In case it really is dead?" My kind of girl.

So we get home and show the kids their new ride, and sure enough, a body will fit in the truck/trunk.

Did the long haul to the homestead and back this holiday weekend. This involves going over Hoover Dam. Twice. So add up the number of trips we've done since we've moved to these parts and multiply by two and in all those opportunities I've never seen anything like this, till now. Thanks to Flip for being quick with the camera.

The pond has five fish. I know this for a fact. As a newbie pondkeeper, I am beset with green algae water. So a few weeks ago I drained the pond and discovered that yes, there are definitly five little fishies (out of ten). I restored the pond and added an ultra-violet filter and a bigger biological filter and now the piscine pets have clear water and I need Wood to install a fourplex electrical outlet for all my accessories. Maybe two fourplexes(plexi) if I ever get around to installing lights.

I was relating to a surgeon at work my fish status, five happy fish and all, and he said

"Five out of ten? That's a fifty-percent mortality rate!"

I said to him

"No, no, no. That's a fifty-percent survival rate!"

Birthday train part 2


My dad used to deliver propane to the rural customers in Yavapai county some years ago. I would go with him on occasion, and it was interesting how some people lived so simply, so far away from anyone else.

So my dad, the propane road-warrior, recalled to me how the train had to go uphill on its way to Hillside. He said we could catch up to it and watch it again there. What the heck, I said, and we went on a little oh, fifteen, twenty mile jaunt to Hillside and sure enough, we had just toured the main street (only street) and here came the same train (I think I can I think I can I think I can.....) so we hustled over through an abandoned-looking lot to get a closer view and the engineer blew the whistle for us again and I think I was happier for the boy than the boy knew how to be for himself. (The lot was not abandoned was we thought, but turned out to be part of an operation that made houses out of styrofoam. The guy gave us a little tour and all but he wasn't the best PR guy because I still am not sure it they made just insulation or the whole house. There was metal of various configurations which could have been structural supports and huge sheets of styrofoam which he cut with an electrified wire-neat!- but he said the business wasn't doing so good and he was shutting the place down.)

Heading back to Las Vegas that afternoon, we made the obligatory stop at the Sonic in Kingman, and oh my stars did we see not one but two trains during our stop.

So let's see, the total train tally for the thirteenth birthday weekend comes to

Lego trains 2
other train models 1
trains spotted/stalked 5 (four if you count two viewings of one train)

I make it 8. Eight items of intense interest. Woo Hoo!

"BIG FAT IN YOUR FACE FN A!!!!"

microbiology is done.

The boy had a birthday a few weeks ago. He's 13 now, all teen-agey. Hard to tell these days which behavior is due to autism and which is just teen angst. His sister is angsty as all get out, so it would follow that he is too.

We spent his birthday weekend in Wilhoit with the grandparents. Wilhoit is actually part of the miniscule sparsley populated region that includes Skull Valley and Kirkland (or Kirkland Junction).

If you started in Prescott, Arizona, and went south on Hwy 89, you would pass right through Wilhoit and probably miss it, unless you were jonesing for a beer at the biker bar in Nowhere, which doesn't have a sign anymore because people kept stealing it. Since Nowhere ceased advertising itself, the two little burgs have melded into a micropolis called Wilhoit, but it's still so small its mailing address is Kirkland, some miles away to the westish, and, paradoxically, is even smaller than the aggregated Wilhoit.

His birthday is usually train heavy, since that is an enduring fascination. When he was smaller it was the wooden Thomas-the-tank-engine type of train. Now it's more Legos and viewing real trains. We make regular pilgrimages to Boulder City to see the parked train there (more on that later).

Every trip over to see the grandparents includes a stop in lovely Kingman at the Sonic drive thru on Andy Devine Rd (part of the old Rt. 66). The train line there is always busy, so it's a good bet that we will see one anytime we stop there. And the bathrooms aren't too terribly nasty. We were rewarded with a glimpse of a BNSF (Burlington Northern Santa Fe) barreling through whilst we sipped our cherry-limeade slushies and munched our tater-tots.

Saturday afternoon we traveled over to Skull Valley, specifically the Skull Valley elementary school. The tracks run inbetween the road and the school, and it is a fairly pleasant wait under the big cottonwood trees. But not this day. It was pretty hot, being July and all, and not much of a breeze, and something about his sister kept the Boy keyed up and cranky. We ended taking a short walk to the general store (everything from feed for livestock to ice cream) for a cold drink. I'm guessing he has frustrated that no train was magically appearing. He did calm down somewhat, and we went back to Grandma's for a little birthday cake and unwrapping of the trains. Sunday, however, was a different story.

Sunday we tootled around the homestead till about noon. Since the guy from the railroad had confirmed that we could not know the time a train might pass our location (thank you terrorists), we decided to take another chance and went back to our perch under the cottonwood trees. It was just me, Grandpa, and the Boy in my little car, and Wood and Flip in his tiny truck. We were there maybe thirty minutes when we were made quite happy by the sound of the train whistle. We were about thirty yards from the tracks, so it was quite loud and when we gestured for more whistle (mime the pull of the cord) oh boy did we get an earful. I had my hand on the Boy's chest and his heart was just pounding. He was a happy guy. What a treat for a birthday boy.

As we were headed home, my dad mentioned that we could catch up with the train, if we wanted. If we wanted!!? At Kirkland Junction, Wood and the girl turned left to go back to the homestead and we turned right. Towards Hillside/Bagdad.

No fishies. Well, maybe one or three, it's hard to tell. But out of a total of 10 little fishies introduced to the pond o death, glimpsing one or two is rather disappointing. Wood says it's cats. I have to reluctantly agree, but doubts linger because 1: the fish are really small, large guppy size and 2: no evidence of cat squatting, ie no disturbed shrubbery or bark, no carcasses, no cat shit or cat fur dangling from the mouths of dogs I JUST DON'T KNOW.
The suspicion is pretty strong, but being born in Missouri is really a curse sometimes, and I find myself wishing for a pond cam, just for proof.
At least the water is clear, and the fountains sound lovely.

Oppenheimer the Gardener is at it again.
The pond is back up and running, with the addition of water plants and 5 (count 'em) little fishies.
If I still have any fishies in a month, I'll be a somewhat happy camper.

We made a semiannual trek through the Bellagio conservatory/gardens a few weeks ago. Boy, were we SURPRISED! The Boy was thrilled no end to find model trains all over the place. Up, down, through the trees, through tunnels and towns, it was a delight for his little autistic perseveration. They had his favorite, a BNSF, nearly close enough to touch.



Here's a village scene, with the favorite. We stood and watched this little cutie for some time.


Same train, different angle, with tunnel.



The ladybug trolley scurried by a wooden boot/house, underneath a great castle.


And the crowning piece, a miniature Bellagio, complete with fountains. All these buildings and bridges were made of wood and plant parts. Some were pine cone leaves/blades, twigs, seed pods, acorn cups, pieces of bark, all craftily glued together in amazing detail.
We enjoyed it so much we went back the next day, too.