Home Again and a Rent-a-Cop Run-in

**We interrupt the ongoing travelogue to share some recent happenings.

Just over 15 years ago,

He was born in my parent's backyard.

After some schooling and chilling in the pastures in Idaho,

Yesterday he came home.

Welcome home Sundance.
We're glad you still remember us.

In the excitement of his arrival, I drove up to my folks' house to see him as soon as he got off the trailer. After a quick visit, I drove down to pick my big boys up from the bus stop. While waiting for the bus with my engine running, I perused the new Pottery Barn Kids catalog (is that cupcake costume yummy or what?). Suddenly there was a rap on my window.

I looked out to see a large man wearing a uniform. I rolled down my window.

"You need to move your car." He growled. "I like to park in front of my house."

"Okay," said I, "I'll move in just a couple minutes after the bus gets here." And I know for a fact he parks in his driveway.

"You need to move it, this is my house." Actually sir, the public road in front of your house isn't your property.

"Oh I will, just as soon as the bus gets here." I could tell he was livid that I wasn't immediately obeying him--what kind of little woman did I think I was?

Then he raised his voice a bit, "I can make one phone call and get this bus stop moved!"

I replied, "Oh I wish you would. I really think this stop is too far away from my house. I've tried to get it moved, but it's really hard to convince the school district to do that."

He then stepped closer to my car, "Move your car up the road," he ordered.

"No, I can't do that because then my car will be right where the bus stops and it's not safe for the kids to get out right there," I explained.

"Just up the road!" His voice was escalating again.

"But then I'm in front of the bus stop, and my kids won't see me when they get off." If you've seen 7 and 6 year-olds exit a bus, you'll know what I'm talking about--total tunnel vision.

"They'll see you," he growled. I rolled up my window.

By now the bus had rolled up. He walked over, in between all the kids running off the bus, and started yelling to the bus driver and waving his arms. I rolled the window down and heard him order her to stop the bus further down the road.

I waited for my kids to load in the car and then drove them up to meet my horse.

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So here's the deal. I know this yokel's uniform isn't a cop uniform, because last year he also came up to my car and told me to move it. I told him I was just waiting for the bus, and I had to park there because it was the only place the sun wasn't shining in the baby's eyes. At first I thought he was a cop, but then I looked closer and realized it's a prison guard uniform.

Here's what really irritates me.

Number 1: That he's bullying me and hoping to intimidate me with his rent-a-cop uniform.

Number 2: That he's behaving like this in front of kids.

Number 3: That I am not going to stop picking my kids' up from the bus stop, and I don't think I should pick them up at school just to avoid this idiot, but I'm sure there are going to be more confrontations.

What should I do?

I called the bus barn to let them know about it. She laughed and said, "Did you tell him he's not parking there right now?" She also said there's nothing they can do, it just sounds like a guy with "little man syndrome." When I told her he was actually quite a large man, she said, in all seriousness, "If you feel threatened, you call the sheriff on him right away."

I'll be honest with you. As a woman, I always feel a little threatened when some strange man walks up to my car. Don't you? Doesn't your radar go off?

Should I file a police report? Call the principal?

Should I keep poking him in the eye, and park in front of his house every day for the next few weeks? If he comes up to the window, should I just wave him off? And then if he hits the window again, should I call the cops and say that a strange man wearing some sort of rent-a-cop uniform is beating on my car while I'm waiting at the bus stop for my kids with the babies inside, and I'm not sure if he has gun or not?

Should I buy pepper spray? A stun gun? Get my concealed weapons permit? Should I stop reading so many Stephanie Plum novels?

Day 2: Columbia State Park

We spent the night in Angels Camp, a cute enough little town, but the real draw was the hotel pool. We swam in the dark, saved Jake from drowning, splashed Pete like crazy, and learned that Nate can sing Travis' "Closer," with just a few changes in the words ("Nee-non me now, nee-non, me now").

We also learned that Pete hates hotels (as in screams like a banshee for hours), so Dan spent most of the night driving Pete around Angels Camp and sleeping when he could in various parking lots, hoping the local cops didn't think he was a suspicious character. On a high note, he did arrive back at the hotel in the morning with a large hot chocolate from Starbucks for me.

Then we were off to Columbia State Park. This park feels like you are walking back in time to the 1850s, with authentic preserved brick buildings in a couple blocks of downtown.

We climbed in wagons. No disrespect intended here, but I'd put money on the fact that some of those pioneer children whined as they walked.

We fed some chickens (well, at least those of us who weren't chicken did). These chickens are a rare breed that is authentic to the 1850s. Did you know there used to be hundreds of varieties of chicken breeds, but many are now extinct? Where's the movement to save the chickens, that's what I want to know! Anyway. . .

We rode a stagecoach.

Inside the stagecoach.

The view from the window.

We were robbed at gunpoint. When the outlaw asked for our money, Jake said, "I've got a penny!" When the outlaw told him just to keep it, Jake piped in, "My mom's got a watch!!" It's always good to know which of your kids is going to sell you out.

Somebody didn't want to get off the stagecoach.

We panned for gold (which was successful because I paid an extra $2 for the loaded pan).

We got thrown in jail. Guess we should've taken off with the outlaw when we had the chance.

And we ate our lunch at a picnic table I apparently visited in a former life.

We also saw displays of authentic 1850 dental tools (scary!) and bowled in an 1850s bowling alley where you had to set up your own wooden pins. Who knew bowling was so big during the gold rush? I thought it was more of a 1950s thing.

Stay tuned for the next leg of our journey!

Day 1: The Big Trees

I'm going to dedicate a couple posts to our family summer vacation 1) so I have proof for the kids that we did take them on trips, and 2) so I can share our adventures, since we don't take many trips just for fun. Hopefully you'll enjoy the travelogue and continue commenting, because I am noticing some improvement.

The first afternoon we drove on Highway 4 over Ebbett's Pass.

Breathtaking scenery on a white knuckle ride. The road is so narrow, they just gave up painting a center line. You've got to dodge cyclists and motorcyclists, and the occasional truck and trailer while negotiating hairpin turns with sheer cliff drop-offs. Driving on roads like this is probably my greatest phobia. It must be the control issue, because I'd be fine if I was walking along the road. Anyway, while I was practicing my deep, cleansing breaths and trying to avoid scratching the armrests with my fingernails, I overheard Jake say, "Wow, if we rolled down that side we would just DIE!" Genetics?

Of course we had to make a potty stop.

Calaveras Big Trees State Park. We hiked the 1 1/2 mile North Grove loop, an easy hike for all the kids (except Gabe, who of course had to go to the bathroom again halfway around--despite having gone before starting--and danced and hopped for about a quarter mile until we decided if it was natural enough for a bear to pee in the woods, it should be for a little boy as well).

The Discovery Tree, which early discoverers cut down to prove how big the trees were and turned it into a dance floor. They also made a bowling alley on the trunk of the fallen tree.

It's hard to sense the massiveness of these trees without actually being there. Suffice it to say, one of these branches fell off, and lying on the ground it looks to be the size of a normal tree. They truly are the largest living things on the planet (bigger than whales; I read the brochure).

Dan loves his new camera.

The Siamese Twins. Look how spindly the other trees look.

Walking through the Father of the Forest, who fell from natural causes some 150+ years ago.

Dan and I were the only ones who had to duck, and me just barely. Thinking about how long the decaying process has taken will also give you an idea how big this tree was.

Who could resist this photo op?

The Mother of the Forest. They think she was burned by lightning, but fire helps the sequoias' seeds open.

The Heart of the Grove. Many of these sequoias are still quite young, comparatively.

I think this was the Empire State Tree. Or it's the tree with the most mass in the grove, even if it isn't the tallest. A tree a person could relate to.

And this is just because the boys thought it was ridiculously funny in the gift shop.


Traveler's tip: Because the yellow jackets get worse as the summer progresses, it's best not to wear black raspberry vanilla lotion all over your body in August. Also, the trees provide so much cover that the forest floor remains damp, so mosquitoes are out in great force. It would have been smart if we'd used the bug spray that was left in the car.

P.S. For Sara. These are the drill marks on the Discovery Tree. The tree rings are pretty hard to see, since it was cut down in the 1860s.

A Worthy Endeavor

Last night during Sunday dinner, I asked Jake what his goal for this week would be. (I was trying to create one of those memorable family moments that seem to happen all the time on other people's blogs.)

"I'm going to try not to fart," he deadpanned.

After the uproarious laughter subsided, Dan asked him "Seriously, Jake, what's your goal?"

"I am serious," he replied. "I fart in class and other kids get in trouble for laughing!"

There were several more minutes of uproarious laughter. Pete even joined in, though it's not clear if he knew why he was laughing, but he threw a green bean on the floor for good measure.

Finally Dan said, "Okay Jake, I know it's funny right now, but seriously, it's disgusting. You've got to hold them in. You can hold them in through class."

"No, I can't." Jake asserted. "I'm might get dizzy, or lightheaded, or get a bellyache."

So that was the way our Sunday dinner ended. It's good to know we have such high aspirations in our family.




And how about some comments please? My self esteem is suffering.

Ace of Diamonds

Reno has a new minor league baseball team: The Aces. The games are affordable and loads of fun.

Especially the free box seats Dan and I enjoyed with his parents and Waddell & Reed. Who I would totally invest in, if I weren't already heavily invested in the UC Davis Eye Center.

Nevada skies are awesome.

The general admission tickets allow you to sit on a grassy knoll, which was just a bit overcrowded on the night we went.

Nate, Owen, and Will danced like "rock stars," while Rob stood as a sentinel.

The boys all stayed up late, sang in the 7th inning stretch ("It's ONE, TWO, THREE strikes you're OUT of the WHOLE ballgame" according to Nate), and most impressively, did not scream and panic with the overhead fireworks after the game.

We stayed a little later to let the kids run the bases--how cool is that?

But we passed on the cub scout sleepover on the field that night. Can you imagine a bigger nightmare? As we were leaving, we overheard the announcer reminding all the scouts to use the restrooms (as opposed to the field?).

Can't wait until next spring!

Another First Day

So my kids started school a couple weeks ago.

I now have a 2nd grader

and a 1st grader (with a desk, imagine that!).

In case you weren't paying attention, that means I do not have to pick up/drop off a kindergartener this year. Ahhh, the sweet scent of freedom.


Which is somewhat short-lived, since this kid starts preschool on Wednesday.



Still, I'll take it.

K-Fed Connection

I spent a thoroughly enjoyable day shopping with my sister and our four boys today (no sarcasm here, it really was enjoyable, probably because my oldest two non-shoppers were in school!). As a result, I did not access the internet until this evening. At dinner Dan asked if I'd seen the new Kevin Federline photos. When I responded negatively, he lamented my shameful ignorance of all the world's important news today.

So, I went online and saw the photos, which by the way, really motivate me to get back on the elliptical. But that's beside the point.

My point (and yes, I am taking my time getting there), is that these new photos reminded me of something I noticed in passing when I was browsing Facebook (the greatest time suck of all time, thank you Jessica Romney). In a section labeled "I went to school in Carson City Nevada," I stumbled upon this photo from the 1984-1985 Gleason-Bray-Bordewich Elementary School yearbook:


Do you see what I see?

Now, this wasn't my elementary school, and I was in either fifth or sixth grade at the time, but the point is this:

I WAS IN CARSON CITY IN 1984-1985 WITH
KEVIN FEDERLINE!!!

And I'm not talking about some nobody who happens to have the same name as a semi-nobody celebrity, I'm talking the real deal. Read this article for verification (I totally adhere to the whole "trust, but verify" concept of parenting).

What do you know? It really is a small world.