What? It's time to shave again? It's only been a year....

This time every year, I get the itch. Not the wintery skin itch, but the itch to do something different. To expand my knowledge, broaden my interests, to do something new.

I don’t think it has anything to do with New Year’s Resolutions but the anxiousness to get out from under the dark, short days, and see green grass and flowers again. I love spring; where everything changes from drudgery to beautiful.

This is the time of year I get the itch to go back to school, read more books, take more classes, commit to organize my house and my life, and generally become a better person.

This is also when I want to move, go on a trip, buy a new car, start my own business, and I start looking at trailers. Restless, restless, restless.

This is the time of year when Jon cringes every time he hears, “I have an idea.” Or “I was thinking.” Or “What would you think if….”

He’s learned to be patient and supportive, and he knows to nod his head in all the right places.

However, this is the first year we haven’t had kids around to take up my time and attention. That leaves Jon all alone, with just me and my ideas, and my mind is racing to come up with things we can do together.

I understand now why a lot of men go out and buy their wives puppies when their kids leave home. Not as a companion, but as a deflection device!

Since I really dislike cold weather and snow, and I want no more pets, I have to find something we can do inside. My big ideas for this year are: cooking lessons, join a gym, take Zumba classes together, turn off the TV and sit on the couch together reading and then discussing what we’ve read. Kind of like a husband/wife book club.

What I’d really, really like to do is take Zumba classes together! What do you think, Pop? Do we have a date?

I bet that new house is looking a lot better right now, isn't it?

Bigfoot Sighting in Utah! Really???

There was a nip in the air that morning. The clouds were low and the sun was nowhere to be seen. As I listened to the traffic report for the morning drive in to the city and heard that the freeway was stop and go, I decided to take the back way over the mountain. This was on the edge of Utah/Salt Lake County. Rural, somewhat deserted, the houses being 20 feet apart instead of 10, it had a lonely feel to it. I love that drive. Even in the harshest of weather, I take that road because of the isolation. In a snow storm or dense fog it can be very lonely, but I love it.
On this particular morning as I started to make the climb, my mind was on particularly nothing. I was listening to music, but I couldn’t tell you what it was. I was relaxed and enjoying the drive. As I rounded the corner, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that immediately registered in my brain. I’m embarrassed to say what it registered as, but I immediately put my hand on my phone prepared to call the first person in my favorites. My mind was racing as I imagined calling at least a half a dozen people in those first few seconds.
Me. I. Had just seen Bigfoot. Yes. Right there on the other side of the road, climbing up the side of the hill. No other cars were around to witness this with me, but I was sure of it. I imagined what I would say to people when I called them, or if they would believe me. Then I thought to pull up the camera on my phone when, still driving the car, I come upon the site where he stood, and there it was. Unmistakable. A pine tree, lying on its side half covered in snow.
Immediate embarrassment. You know that feeling you get when you do something stupid? The first thing you do is look around to see if anybody else saw you making a fool of yourself? Well, that’s what I did. Right then, and the rest of the drive to work I felt completely silly and embarrassed.
But then it hit me. It takes people like me who (1 – are pretty much blind and wearing my old contact lens prescription and (2 – I have a very active imagination. We are the ones that help keep the legend of Bigfoot alive.

Side note: on my drive home that day, taking the same route, I slowed down when I got to the “sighting” point. I discovered that not only was it not Bigfoot, I discovered that it wasn’t a pine tree either. It was a clump of sagebrush half covered in snow. I can only imagine that when the snow completely melts, or if I were to walk right up to it, it would probably end up being a pile of someone’s garbage.