Breaking the Law: New Drivers and Order in this Modern World

There are some main rules that parents are trying to bond over at our high school.  The biggest one is the limitations of the graduated license.  In California, once you get your license, you are not permitted to drive around like a limo service.  In other words, you cannot drive your friends around until you have had your license for a full year.

This law appears to be loosely followed and loosely interpreted.  Even going to snopes or calling the DMV will not get you a definitive answer as to what the penalty really is for giving your friend a ride home from cross country practice.  Also, kids that have been pulled over for other offenses, but have a friend in the car while they are still in their probationary period, are not ticketed or even warned about breaking the passenger law.

Some parents, have no problem with breaking this rule.  They figure it's ok, and turn a blind eye, or even admit they do not follow this rule.  Some parents bring out the pitch forks and the torches if they catch their teen giving a ride to a friend or sibling.  Most of my friends are fairly flexible.  They assess the situation, then make a decision based on the circumstances.

I told John, that in the good old United States, we as citizens don't get to choose which laws we think are worthwhile.  Hey, murder one?  Not really a good idea, that's a good law.  Making a U turn where it's marked no U turn, but we are in a hurry, maybe we can skip that law.  I am a law abider--probably to a fault.  I stand in line.  I wait my turn.  I wait to merge and stay in traffic while the speedy drivers get in the other lane, pass me and merge last minute.

John is getting ready to take his exam for his official driver's license.  We are driving around town and practicing.  I am a running dialog of driving advice and so is my husband.  Now all three of us critique whomever is driving and truly are back seat drivers constantly.  This is not really fun, but it is probably part of the process.

John was driving down a four lane city street.  A car made a left hand turn into traffic, and was going to gauge his speed so that he merged in behind John.  I recognized this move.  John did not.  He hit the brakes, came to an abrupt stop, the other driver started to merge in front, but John kept going and had to swerve to avoid a collision.

John was griping up and down about how that was illegal and how could that guy just drive like that.  I had to explain that all drivers pretty much drive like that.  He almost quoted me the page number in the DMV guide that would put that driver in jail.

So, once again, here is a law that no one follows.  No one thinks it's a big deal to break it.  We all do it. We probably wouldn't even get a ticket for it.  How do you explain a world like this to a teenager?  How do you explain it to yourself?  How many of us who have been driving for a gazillion years even know what the current laws of driving really are?

It's kind of interesting and makes me wonder about our laws, written and unwritten.  It also makes me wonder about the whole other set of laws that seem to apply to some people, and not at all to others.  Wow, what a thing to think about.  Welcome to the world.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas--It's October For Goodness Sake!

Remodel Done, Halloween Decorating and Party Planning After the Remodel

Last year we threw a Halloween party where guests actually had to enter our house ducking past construction tape.

Now that we are all landscaped, painted and the furniture is back in the house, I am having a hard time getting the Halloween decorations in gear.

Obstacle #1:  My lovely contractor put all of my decorations up on a very high shelf.  He promised me that I would be able to get them down.  My husband took one look at the location of my decorations, and he promptly required a ladder to assist me...but the ladder is at the ark.  Hmmmmm, so, no decorations.   I may be calling the contractor and having him come over to help me decorate, and I'm not kidding about that.

Obstacle #2:  Fatigue.  I just returned from two very nice trips to Canada with my husband.  Every time I am stuck on a plane, I feel like Super Woman.  I make lists, read Martha Stewert and plan like crazy.  Every time I drive carpool, I realize how easy it is to pretend to be Super Woman when I am sitting with my butt strapped to an airplane seat.

When I am sitting with my butt strapped in a car seat while I drive around in circles, I am not feeling like Martha Stewert. Rachel Ray or Oprah for that matter.  I feel just plane/plain tired.  I feel like I look and act like one of my Zombie decorations--circles under the eyes and not able to put a sentence together.  Bleck.

Obstacle #3:  Halloween is on a Wednesday.  I don't want to compete with the uber parties that fall on that Saturday before, yet, October 19th or 20th seems a little too soon to put on the Zombie make up and have a full on rager.  Actually, I can't handle a full on rager, I just finished a remodel.  Now I need a creepy, subdued rager.

Obstacle #4: Food.  If someone would just show up with the food, then I would be good to go.  I can plan all flavors of margaritas until the Zombies come home.  Food, is another matter.  I am the girl that drinks her coffee out of the mug that says, "The only reason I have a kitchen is because it came with the house."  Yep, not trying to even pretend about that one.

So, you see my logic?  I'm on the fence.  I need something or someone to push me over.  I'm sure the spirit will move me, but it needs to get over here right quick!

United Airlines, For Once, PLEASE Pleasantly Surprise Me?

Somehow, considering how much I do not like to fly, I end up flying a lot.  Not like to fly?  Am I afraid that I will crash?  No, not afraid of that.  I am more afraid of the total flight experience.  Here are my top 10 flying peeves:

1.  Packing and not knowing whether I'm best off to cram it in the carry on or pack the big bag.
2.  Getting to the airport early.
3.  Magically Disappearing Seats.
4.  Have my luggage disappear.
5.  Getting delayed.
6.  Getting bumped.
7.  Getting rerouted.
8.  Waiting and knowing how the other half lives.
9.  Trapped in my middle seat.
10. Annoying, rude passengers that their momma's should have taught better.


1.  Let's begin with number 1, the packing.  Sometimes there is a fee for checking.  Sometimes there is a fee for carry on.  Sometimes you sit with your knees in your face because other people have brought on enough carry ons for a traveling sideshow.  If I carry on, I know where my luggage is.  If I carry on, I know where my luggage is because I am lugging it around and racing with it to my connecting flight.

2.  I also hate spending as much time waiting around airports as the length of my total flying time.  Seriously, if you fly from the Bay Area to LA, you could spend more time hanging at the airport and flying than driving in your car.

3.  Seats.  How many times have we booked our family of 5 for a trip, including young children, to arrive at the airport and have our seats magically disappear?  Even if they are on the reservation and the boarding pass, it never fails that my youngest daughter is seated in the middle seat between two men. I am also sitting in the middle seat between two men who have the manners of monkeys, so I am in no position to barter seats or switch.

4.  Our luggage regularly disappears.  We always find it again, but in those gray moments of not having boots and warm coats in minus 20 degree weather, I have been a doubter.  My fondest memories are not composed of late nights in a 24 hour chain department store/supermarket buying toothpaste and underwear after a long day of travel.

5.  Delayed.  Do I need to say more?

6.  Bumped.  When you bump a family of 5 in December right before the holidays, it is very hard to rebook them.  I love spending my days in an airport, waiting.

7.  Rerouted.  Almost more fun than being bumped.  Who doesn't want to be flying into Sacramento instead of San Francisco?  The 3 hour drive at 2 in the morning doesn't even equal 5 hours of sleep when you get home.

8.  Worse yet, I've found that when I travel without my bonus card-carrying, travel-pro husband, I am screwed.  I know there are cocktails and snacks behind that lounge door.  I know that there is priority boarding, business class champagne and a special S.O.S. number for when 1-10 happens to you.  Darn.  Wish I didn't even know about the perks sometimes, especially when I am waiting in the longest lines I have ever seen.

9.  Middle seat, I love you when I am traveling with my family.  I curse you when I sit next to the grouchy man who refuses to turn his ipad off when we are taxiing to the runway.  I use to be a teacher.  I am not afraid of you grouchy man.  Yes, I did just tell you to turn that thing off!  Why do you need a parent when you are clearly over 50?

10. And that middle seat story just flows over into annoying passengers.  These are the entitled ones.  Were they football players in high school?  Cheerleaders?  I don't know, but if you are in coach, you are in coach.  Be nice.  Help people with their bags.  Smile, don't be too chatty, but at least be quietly friendly for goodness sake.  Grouchy people make this world a little less fun for the rest of us.

Tomorrow I fly with United, again.  I fly with United often.  Lately, it is never very good.  I hope tomorrow I am pleasantly surprised.  That is a post for tomorrow.

Going to the Dogs: Crating Puppy and Teaching Couch Potato Old Dogs and Owners New Tricks

We have had our puppy, Roxy, since mid March.  She is crated on a regular basis in our downstairs bathroom.  We've wedged her crate into the shower stall and made the inside of her prison as cozy as possible.

There were many opinions on how a puppy would effect our 13 year old collie lab cross, Kiki.  She is basically the most quiet, well-mannered dog you can ever hope for as a family dog.  She doesn't require much, she is basically a house dog.  She goes out for walks, but she has always been a happy couch potato--so somehow, she got into the proper couch potato family.

Roxy has fit in well.  We've determined she is at least half couch potato dog, as she is a snuggler.  She thinks Kiki is her mama, but there will be therapy down the road for Roxy, because Kiki feels in no way any maternal urges toward the pint sized pain in the butt puppy.  Mostly, they peacefully co-exist, but if Roxy gets a little to much in Kiki's happiness zone, watch out!

When we leave the house, Kiki is calm and happy to hang out.  Roxy is happy to use a chair as a chew toy, so we've been faithful kennel trainers and put Roxy in her kennel when we leave.  When Roxy goes in, we say "Kennel Time!" We throw a yummy assortment of treats into the kennel, and Roxy happily jumps in.  Of course, there are treats for Kiki at kennel time, too.

Today, I came upon Kiki in the bathroom.  She was wistfully staring into Roxy's kennel.  It has a fleecy, comfy pad, oodles of toys and it smells like treats from the doorway.  As Roxy is 15 pounds and Kiki is 65 pounds, Kiki can only hope to get her head in the doorway of the kennel.

This scene really made me think about whether we've cursed Kiki, or made her life more interesting.  A bouncy, Tigger-like toddler puppy is like me at a pre school mom coffee--there is nothing more sure to quickly make you feel whithered, tired and old.

Yet, Kiki has had more petting, more walks and more treats than she's seen in her life since she was a puppy.  We've had to drag our couch potato selves out with the puppy to get Roxy out in the world and wear her energy down.  There have been benefits for everyone, whether it's a walk for Kiki or mother daughter chat.

At that quiet moment, I snuck into the bathroom and gave Kiki a bone.  Good dog, Kiki.

The Canadian Chronicles: Building A Better Mouse Trap, Part 2

It seems like mice are a recurring theme in our Canadian cottage existence. As soon as I saw the evidence that I was using the kitchen by day, but that the mice were using the kitchen by night, I called my husband to action.

The first thing he did was ask me if I was sure. I love this. Many times, people as me if I can tell that a mouse has been in a particular place for "SURE." After all of these years, I can almost spot mouse poop at fifty paces without my glasses--and I have a darn strong eyeglass prescription.

Well, step number one in our battle plan was to visit the local hardware and buy traps. Birk, who was listening to our conversation on the way to the hardware store, was arguing that we should live trap the critters and set them free outside of the house.

No matter how we tried to explain that putting the mice from inside the house to outside the house was not going to help our cause. She was adamant that we should not trap and kill the mice. We tried to explain that it's kind of like putting Brer Rabbit in the brier patch, after all, the mice know their way back home.

After the hardware store stop, we were making the longer drive to get groceries, about an hour's drive away. Birk had asked us to stop at Marble Lake Lodge's restaurant Ate to Ate. We agreed and started the drive. On the way, I looked back and tears were streaming down her face: she had seen the traps in the hardware bag.

At the restaurant, she refused to eat. We ordered her food anyway, including a big, thick chocolate shake. We reasoned. We cajoled. Finally she ate and we continued on with our day. Problem solved for the short term.

Two funny things happened after that. The first, is at the end of the summer, weeks later, I was helping Birk to clean her room and put everything away for the season. In the corner of her room, under some stuffed animals and cast off clothing, were the mouse traps. She had taken the traps and hidden them all summer!

The second thing that happened has to do with the Story of Stuff. She was assigned to watch the YouTube video. After watching it, she had to make an action plan to help save the Earth. Her action plan is to have people donate gently used clothing and bedding to people in need. It also includes encouraging more people have and shop at garage sales.

She likened people being held hostage by possessions like a hungry mouse. The more human food that the mice had, the more human food they would try to steal. If the only food we provided was in a trap, then they would have to brave the danger to get the food. However, if we gave them food, then they could live happily with us and wouldn't have to steal the food.

Living in harmony with the mice population, I will have to give that some thought.

See That Island?

We were driving home from a long weekend at our friend's cabin on Lake Kirkwood. Birk looked out the window while we were crossing the San Rafael bridge and said, "See that island? I want to live there."

Then, one of those moments, the kind that I absolutely love, happened. She continued, "I want to build a house, a yellow one with a blue door. I'll live there and just invent things."

Yes, I absolutely love it when I hear my 10 year old dreaming in technicolor!