Roll Out Those Hazy, Crazy, Lazy Days of Summer

Tell me I'm not the only one who knows that reference...

Nothing spectacular about this event, I'm just a sucker for kids on playgrounds.

Here, Ty and his new buddy Zeke; the dog may never walk on his own four legs ever again. Shaney-bo-baney, livin' large on the rock wall.

Gracie-girl Louie, breaking hearts all over town.

Speaking of breaking hearts, here's Belly-boo...

tempting to think of that tree in the far distance as a palm, but, alas!

Signature Shane, tipping the scales of life.

In the Zekey-Zekey-Zekey Room

Zeke's now home, rockin' our world...gorgeous, mellow, sugar-sweet Zeke. Couldn't ask for a better puppy. No jumping, minimal whining, the expected level of gnawing, and what can I say? He totally adores his mommy. He's a keeper.
Postcard perfect, just how a chocolate lab should look. Excepting I won't be involving either him or us in the murder of innocent animals. You've all met me before, right, so that's not a shock?

2/5 of the "kids" out for the count. That only leaves...3 more? Dagnabbit!

A differnt 2/5...we're not making progress, here.

Must. Chew. All. In. My. Path.

Had Myself a Ball in a Small Town

Gotta love the whole bucolic paradise/Normal Rockwell/Mayberry thing we've got going in Castle Rock; a highlight for the locals is the Douglas County Fair and Parade, about as old-school as it gets: political candidates, church-sponsored floats, local cheer squads and bands...just like Main Street at Disneyland, only at a higher altitude and with fewer over-priced souvenirs.
Ty's elementary school Cub Scout Pack was invited to march, and there's nothing quite so entertaining as 100-plus boys and their families hurling candy at unsuspecting spectators along the parade route. It's all fun and games until someone's eye gets poked out...
Gracie, in her Pack 780 finery. It says "Scouting Rocks!" Get it? "Scouting Rocks"? We live in Castle Rock, we have scouting? Get it?

Just another happy memory of childhood we're really happy we can give to our kids...how many other places in the world can give this kind of opportunity? Even if marching in parades isn't on everyone's list of priorities, to us it's one of those priceless perks of the move.

Nope, not changing political ideologies, but you've gotta give it up for this lady and her Obama Llama.

Tagged!

I feel so in demand...dear friend and over-achiever extraordinaire, Alex, has roped me in, and, really, I'm like Shrek: an onion, with lotsa layers, sans the talking donkey. Read on if you dare.

Joys:
1. The fam. Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture guy, may claim to have won the parent lottery, but, obviously, he's never met the Kulwickis. It wasn't Ozzie and Harriet, but I honestly woudn't trade my parents or my formative years with Rick and Diane in Aurora, Colorado, for any other life experience. In the life of my own choosing, I couldn't have done much better: Matt's the ultimate best/friend/husband/significant other; we're not particularly similar, yet so alike it's scary. And those gorgeous, healthy, hilarious kids...be jealous!

2. The Gospel (mentioned explicitly to make you all feel shallow in comparison). Really, though, what else does anything matter without it?

3. Literature. I've seen places I've never been, become intimate with people I've never met, kept company with the greatest minds and souls that ever lived...experienced, in varying degrees, the full range of life's joys, sorrows, regrets, consequences without ever leaving the house. Fiction is the lie that tells the truth. Think about that for awhile.

Fears
1. Some nut job stalking my family, breaking into my house, taking and/or abusing or torturing my kids. Maybe I need to take a break from the news.

2. Sending my kids to middle school and beyond...the more I hear from parents and youth, I just want to retreat to a corner and lie in a fetal position, after which, run and find a cave high in the Rockies, eating wild locusts and honey. It worked for John the Baptist's parents, didn't it? He got to live a decent life before his head got lopped off...

3. Water. I just can hardly stand it, other than to shower and occasionally consume. That awful noise it makes when you're completely submerged, I'd go literally insane if I had to do that just once more in my life.
Is there a list long enough? I get worse with each passing year, but I comfort myself thinking that I fear so much because I love so much. Either that or I just don't have any faith. The jury's still out.

Current Obsessions:
As if there were only three! How quaint!
1. As always, Bono and Eddie Vedder, and not just for the almost god-like qualities of their physical countenances...it's the environmental and humanitarian work! You know it is!

2. Always wanting more! Never satisfied! Malcontentedness (is that a Bush-ism, or an actual word?). Maybe more a problem than an obsession.

3. Failure. Just a lingering sickness from childhood, and though I have a strong testimony of the gospel (yup, I'm awesome!), the ugly underbelly of being a LDS woman is the soul-crushing guilt about not doing or being enough.

Surprising Facts:
1. Don't know how to ride a bike. But really, who's surprised by that?
2. Never kissed anyone until age 18. But really, who's surprised by that?
3. Have very strong feelings against romantic comedies, unless John Cusack's involved.

Who I've Tagged:
1. Alyson
2. Shelley
3. Karen and/or Tyler

Spent the Last Year Rocky Mountain Way

You've gotta be thrilled: I'm back to quoting the classics, Joe Walsh in this case...

It's been a year since we left sunny SoCal and landed here...a lot of water under that bridge, new house, ward, friends, schools, open spaces and opportunities. But in homage to the land and folks we left behind, here's my list of things I most miss, in no particular order:

In-N-Out Burger, 'nuff said.

Crystal Cove

The L.A. Times

Indie 103.1 FM

And ALL OF YOU!

I Wanna Be a Part of It: New York, New York!

The real reason for the cross-country pilgrimage: to see the Angels beat the Yankees in their own stadium before they tear the sorry old history-laden monstrosity down. Didn't quite work out that way in the win/loss column, but at least we did it, and, truthfully, the Bronx, along with every other place we went, wasn't the death trap I had envisioned. If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere...

The why of it: come September, the brave co-captains of the Crawford Crew will have been married 15 (!) years; please hold your applause until the end of the presentation.

We wanted to take a trip to celebrate the blessed occasion, or, as Matt would put it, we needed an alibi; you can't just fly to New York to see a baseball game, can you?
Thanks to Matt's frequent travel, we had enough miles to fly first-class to NYC and stay for five days in a fabulous closet-sized hotel in the Midtown Manhattan theater district, just steps from: Times Square! Central Park! Rockefeller Center! The Chrysler Building! The Empire State Building! With easy-to access subway systems shuttling you to and fro!

And why wouldn't you use those points in mid-summer, what with New York's humidity level being so high, and every tourist in the free world sharing space with you and the already wildly over-populated residents of the afore-mentioned island?
30 Rockefeller Center. Look! It's Alec Baldwin!

Um, not sure about this one. But judging from the tourist response, we'll be hearing a lot about it in the years to come, believe you me! The statue bears a plaque reading "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...", which is how every person crammed like a sardine on that ferry boat felt about New York in general at that very moment in time.

People often say I resemble Audrey Hepburn in every day life, but when I stood here, boy, you should have seen the stares and whispers of recognition. We were disappointed: no breakfast served here. Ever.

The World Trade Center experience was just as laugh-packed as I remember the National Holocaust Museum in D.C., as being, which is to say, not very. One would think I would have cried all the tears I was going to seven years ago.

Times Square, no hookers in evidence, and an Applebee's! Just what you come to Manhattan for!Check item #1 off the Bucket List: we saw Letterman! We don't believe in luck: called from Chicago to get on stand-by; landed; survived a taxi drive from LaGuardia; shoved our luggage in our closet/hotel room; ran down to the Ed Sullivan theater. We were 2nd and 3rd in line, and they took the first three...I sat on the third row and Matt on the last row to see Dave grill Pamela Anderson for a blissful 10 minutes. My seats were good, but not good enough to spot whether or not her physical prowess is the result of Mother Nature or some extracurricular activity.

My favorite memory is from our tour of Top of the Rock at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. While we waited for our elevator ride down, a tour guide is trying to pass the time with small talk: "Where are you from? Australia? Great!" "China? Ni-hao!" "Germany? Guten tag!" "Colorado?" A small intake of breath. "Wow. Sunny skies, trees, no humidity. Must be paradise." Exactly.

Zeke It Is!

The mind-numbing suspense is over, so feel free to exhale: Matt and kids picked us a Zeke, a.k.a. "Yellow Boy" as he was known to the breeders who placed colored ribbons around the puppies necks for identification. We're all thrilled, and trying to gear up for his imminent invasion and/or arrival. Do we have enough newspaper? Have we hidden all of the Polly Pockets? Are the shoes stored above Zeke-level? Where's the baby gate? And are we ready to run on two hours of sleep? All these questions and more will be answered in the weeks ahead...

The Slightest Bit of California Dreamin'

On one of the Denver area's however many 90-degree-plus days in a row (we lose track in the record-breaking streak run so far this summer), we headed off to Chatfield Reservoir...Huntington Beach it's not, but it's a handy substitute.
No clever sub-titles here: let's try "Boy with Bucket."
How about: "Boy and Girl in Water."
And the ever-popular "Young girl in Stagnant Reservoir Run-Off Replete with Goose Feathers and Who Knows What Other Goose-Related Products"
or
"Guess Who Woke Up the Next Morning with Diarrhea?"