Scenes From Florence

This was our first view of Florence, from Piazza San Michelangelo - probably one of the most photographed views in Italy. Another overcast day, as you can see, but it was still a pretty magnificent sight for us. The dome of the famous Duomo is right in the center.


We took the bus from this Piazza to the Santa Maria Novella train station, which was very crazy and overrun with people, heading every which way...

A tile sidewalk lined with stores...

Another piazza that Ed and I strolled through, looking for a bite to eat...

Which we finally found...with a view of the carousel and the plaza...

One of the many churches...

Another building...

A modern scooter proudly displaying the Fleur-de-Lis, parked next to an ancient building...

A sidestreet...

And Eddie posing next to a teeny, tiny electric car. What you can see in the background, is the sign for the "Tutto a 99 cent" store....everything 99 cents! Yes, they even have them in Florence!

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1 YEAR AGO: Eddie Palm Sketch Friday
2 YEARS AGO: Moabulous
3 YEARS AGO: Ready To Draw The Future
4 YEARS AGO: Red Fish, Blue Fish. One Fish, Two Fish.
5 YEARS AGO: Beautiful Enough To Lick

The Other Side Of The Tracks

The place we rented in Tuscany was located in the village of Bucine. A cute little village, with a grocery store, a few nice restaurants, a historical importance we were unaware of when we booked our stay and an old Etruscan footbridge in the neighboring town of Pogi that we needed to cross to get to our villa.

Our villa was well off the beaten path; so much so that the first night we thought we were definitely off course until we started to see signs pointing us in the right direction. Each morning when we left, we drove past gardens filled birds, sunflowers, tomatoes and heads of greens that would put blue ribbon growers to shame.

This is part of the road as leaving the villa...

With signs strategically placed asking travelers to please go slowly...

One of the days we decided to take the train to Florence instead of driving the van. As we drive through town, we passed a cat on a balcony...

Finally coming to the beautiful, tree lined train station...

The train station was like a ghost town - almost as if it had been forgotten in time, but clearly in some sort of use. We had our schedule in hand and just stood there until the train we hoped was coming, arrived.

Arrive it did, and we got on and settled in for our trip to Florence. I kinda liked traveling on the train - Eddie didn't have to do any driving, and we got to see several places we would not have otherwise seen - like the inside of the tracks filled with Italian graffiti!

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1 YEAR AGO: Photos On The Fly
2 YEARS AGO: Apparently, The Only Time I Lean To The Right Is In My Sleep And Unwillingly
3 YEARS AGO: Reflections
4 YEARS AGO: Laundromats And Grocery Stores Aren’t The Only Places To Hunt For Men
5 YEARS AGO: Shaved Aluminum

Salivating Over The Salumeria

A beautiful store of gastronomical delights in Arezzo, Italy.

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1 YEAR AGO: The Cheapest Entertainment Around
2 YEARS AGO: Proud To Be A Liberal American
3 YEARS AGO: I Don’t Think This Is What The Gideons Had In Mind
4 YEARS AGO: Ten Reasons Today
5 YEARS AGO: The Big Five Oh!

Under The Tuscan Sun Within 3,000 Year Old Walls

Cortona, one of the oldest hill towns in Tuscany made famous by Frances Mayes' book Under The Tuscan Sun, was one of my favorite towns. I am a bit disappointed with my pictures from the trip. I found that I didn't concentrate on real "scenes", instead just found myself snapping at everything and often just looking more than actually photographing.

On this particular day, the weather was very overcast, so it looks a bit dreary. This is the road we took to enter into Cortona. We parked outside of the city at the first available spot we found and walked in. Ed is right in the center of the street taking pictures. You can see that the direction it goes is only uphill. And as Wikipedia stated, "The prevailing character of Cortona’s architecture is medieval with steep narrow streets situated on a hillside (altitude 600 metres), embracing a view of the whole of the Valdichiana." Hear that? Steep and narrow. They were not lying.

We walked all the way up to the main square, Piazza della Repubblica, to find a wedding in progress. The attendees were milling around until it was time to greet the new bride and groom, who emerged from the door laughing and smiling, both looking radiant.

After we saw the couple kiss and take an official photo, we continued up the hill. They don't call these "Tuscan Hill Towns" for nothing. I have never done more walking in my life than I did on this trip. But once you get to the top of the hills, of streets that all look like this...

And you're passed up by 80-year old Italian women carrying grocery bags (on up and down slopes)...
You get to the very top, where you see the Tuscan sky and the setting evening sun hitting the old stone, making the colors appear golden.

And at the very top, you can see over the entire valley below and even get a peek at Lake Trasimeno in the distance (top left of photo)...

It's totally worth the aching feet and heavy breathing.

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1 YEAR AGO: Dragged Back, Kicking And Screaming
2 YEARS AGO: Seniors Maintain Law And Order By Way Of A Fluke Discovery
3 YEARS AGO: Lisa Lavie Is The Angel Here
4 YEARS AGO: Fight The Moth
5 YEARS AGO: Abandoned But Not Forgotten

Florentine Youth

I was walking around Florence when I saw this pack of boys cruising through the street. They were all laughing and having a great time, but what struck me is that they were all connected; via the iPod hub the kid with the red headset has dangling from his hands.

When I saw that, I thought it was so cool that I motioned "photo" and they quickly obliged. The kids with the red headset seemed to be the happiest of the group, but the little guy on the right is my favorite.

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1 YEAR AGO: What’s In A Name?
2 YEARS AGO: Farming The Wind
3 YEARS AGO: Eddie In The Big Little City Friday
4 YEARS AGO: Photograph It If You Think You May Never See It Again
5 YEARS AGO: Why???

Isolated Iesolana

While in the Tuscany region, we rented a "villa" that slept eight people. Although it was called a villa, it was more like individual apartments located at one facility. This is the outside of the house we stayed in, some of the girls getting ready to head out for the day...

Here's a shot of what I think is a very modern looking kitchen for something with such a rustic looking exterior:

The cabinets and drawers had some very cool features and we had pretty much anything we needed to make breakfast in the morning and a few meals during the week. I commandeered the far end of the table for myself, to do my makeup in the morning and to get on the internet. Which, by the way, was ridiculously inaccessible. When Ed asked one of the owners about the internet, the guy threw up his hands, exasperated.

He went on to explain to Ed, "This is the country. People come here to relax, get outdoors, enjoy the scenery." That's great. And that's what we were doing all day. But when I come home and it's pitch black outside, I'd like to check my email. Apparently, that's when Italy works on their cable internet lines...at night. So most nights, the internet that I paid for, wasn't available.

And that wouldn't have been a problem if that's what I was told. Don't advertise available internet on your website if you don't have it available in the villa. Internet was a big deciding factor for whether I stayed there or not. And if I knew you didn't have internet, I might have chosen another villa, as there are hundreds of them. Or when you tell me you have internet, say, "It's only available from 8am to 8pm." Another choice for me to make - do I want it or not? But don't make me pay for it and then don't deliver. Because yes, you will get a call at midnight if it's not working. Other than that, the villa served us just fine.

The following shots were taken by Ed. My cousin Ro, Eva and Marie goofing around at the pool...

The olive trees...
The patio area...And the name of the villa, which apparently has no actual Italian translation, according to the owner...


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1 YEAR AGO: WWJD?
2 YEARS AGO: Farming The Wind
3 YEARS AGO: Eddie In The Big Little City Friday
4 YEARS AGO: Photograph It If You Think You May Never See It Again
5 YEARS AGO: Why??

The Real Deal

It seemed as if these grapes were growing on every hillside in the Chianti Region. And yes, I picked a small bunch and ate them. Sure, sure, if every tourist were to do the same, where would they get the grapes for the Chianti? Since I don't drink Chianti, I didn't give that much thought, all I knew is that I wanted a fresh grape, right from the vine. And what I did think as I bit into that sweet, dusty orb was how it reminded me of my childhood; it tasted just like the grapes my grandfather used to grow on the trellis in our backyard. It was delicious!

The hills, unfortunately not captured by my camera as it was seen by my eye, were covered with a patchwork of beautiful vineyards. Each hill we crested, each turn we took, was a scene more beautiful than the last.

What's more fantastic to me is that people actually live there. In villages that look as if they've been created from pages ripped out of books filled with children's fairy tales; the places where the girl who becomes the fairy princess once lived. Her uncles running wineries, her mother gathering the grapes. It didn't feel quite real, but it was.

I'm not a big wine drinker, as I mentioned, but when you're served a glass of wine which identifies the grape variety on a label attached to the stem of your glass, one that comes from the very region you just drove through before finding the little restaurant you're now sitting in. Well, it kinda makes you want to buy a farmhouse.


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1 YEAR AGO: This Should Keep You Busy For A While
2 YEARS AGO: Plenty Of Room For The Ladies
3 YEARS AGO: It All Began With The Cheese
4 YEARS AGO: Zig Zag Wisconsin Color
5 YEARS AGO: Made In China

Ragazzo dell'Ombrello

Umbrella boy in Arezzo, Italy. He was a pretty persistant salesman, trying really hard to sell us an umbrella even though both Eddie and I were already each holding one.

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1 YEAR AGO: Eddie It’s Not Even Halloween Yet Friday
2 YEARS AGO: Not So Different, Are We?
3 YEARS AGO: Quite Uneducated If You Ask Me
4 YEARS AGO: Sometimes Identity Theft Can SAVE You Money
5 YEARS AGO: Mina In Fifty Years

Americans Among Us

Our first day in Italy was spent driving from the airport in Rome to Fossombrone (in the Le Marche region) to visit "the family". I say "the family" because it's not my family, but family of my cousin's mother. We arrived at the hotel and spent just enough time there to drop our bags and freshen up. As soon as we were all settled in and freshened, we waited for our escort to meet everyone in town for dinner.
When we arrived at Ristorante Taberna del Falco, the family was already there. Together with our group of seven, we were a total of thirty people. An outstanding turnout!

We sat, Americans among Italians, and did our best with conversation. Only a few of the Italians spoke English and we utilized their translating skills continuously throughout the night. I was surprised at how much I understood and how much I was able to get across with my limited knowledge of the language.

Ed and I had planned on learning Italian via language tapes while driving, but we never did. I think practicing words with my grandparents when I was little and my knowledge of Spanish helped; I retain what I read and what I hear (when I'm interested in the subject) and think over the years hearing the language helped. Marco, one of the family members I was talking to asked where I learned Italian; he said I spoke very well and my pronunciation was eccellente.
The thing that surprised me the most, and I don't really know why I didn't think it actually took place, is that everyone really does kiss on both cheeks; both hello and goodbye. I am absolutely in LOVE with that! I think I might start doing it with everyone I meet. The warmth from people I didn't even know was overwhelming. They were so hospitable, so accomodating, so friendly, so interested, so everything that people should be.

And the food? The food was AMAZING. Everything came out in courses, small plates with a variety of foods; meats, cheeses, bread, vegetables, fruit. Oh my, it was an overwhelming flavor explosion. I think it might rank as the best meal of the entire trip.

Marco sat across the table from me throughout dinner and we had the best conversation; me not speaking Italian, him not speaking english. We talked about the food, the family connection and what we did for a living. He was retired, but when I told him what I did, his eyes got as big as saucers, apparently there aren't many women driving trucks in Italy. I don't think he actually believed me until I showed him a picture of the truck on my iPod. He promptly took it from my hands and excitedly showed everyone at the table, chattering and pointing at me. I think I was a big hit.
Overall, the evening was a fantastic success. It was the perfect way to start the trip and I'm so glad we did it first rather than saving it till the end. I can totally understand why the New York Times Travel section wrote an article titled, Is Le Marche the Next Tuscany?

Between the scenery and the charm of its people, I think it has potential to be.

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1 YEAR AGO: Next Time I’m Buying Him Carbon Paper And White Out. And A Roll Of Stamps. And Maybe A VHS Player.
2 YEARS AGO: Flash Flood
3 YEARS AGO: Consider The Source When Getting Advice
4 YEARS AGO: Perfectly Apropos For Bush’s Home State
5 YEARS AGO: Soul 2 Soul

If Only I Looked As Good As He Does

We're back from Italy but we're both sicker than dogs. The first thing we did the morning after we landed was to hit the local Urgent Care. To find out what, you ask?

That I have bronchitis. BAD.

I can't breathe or speak without coughing. I have gone through two boxes of tissues in two days. And I haven't gone three feet from the bed all day.

Ed has been blessed with severe sinus and chest congestion. He's coughing too. The truck is like a nursing home and we are the people keeping everyone up. I'm hacking like a 90-year old man and Ed's nose-blowing sounds like a fog horn.

I haven't been this sick in over ten years. I've been all over this country; going from very hot to very cold climates in a matter of days, from desert sands of Arizona to lush forests of the Northeast. I've peed in every bathroom from coast to coast (and I'm sure I've forgotten to wash my hands once or twice). And I've never caught ANYTHING.

So what happens when I go to Italy? Between two absolutely HORRENDOUS plane rides and one coughing seventy year old in our group, I come back with this. I'm not happy AT ALL.

I plan on catching up on the blog in the next few days...I hope. If I can sit up long enough to get through a couple of posts. Please keep checking back!


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1 YEAR AGO: What Grandmothers Do When Their Grandchildren Grow Up
2 YEARS AGO: The View Of The Valley And Meadow
3 YEARS AGO: A Beautiful Dimple In The Earth
4 YEARS AGO: Dive The Sky
5 YEARS AGO: G-Y-M

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Blogging For A Word From Our Blogger

Well, here I am in Italy and I can't freakin' blog a thing. By the time I get back to the villa or hotel or wherever we're staying, the internet doesn't work or it's too slow to do anything. I'm ready to tear my hair out.

So....please check back just in case I get a good connection. If you don't see much, come back in a week and I'll be posting again from the United States.

Ciao!


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1 YEAR AGO: Here, Let Me Get You A Tissue For That Eyeball
2 YEARS AGO: The Secret Lies With The Twinkies
3 YEARS AGO: Where In The World Are You Carmen Sandiego?
4 YEARS AGO: Paraskevidekatriaphobia
5 YEARS AGO: Love’s Language

Wishing I Could Trade My Feet For Wheels

Here is a cute little van I got a picture of while I was resting my feet after walking around Florence. I wish I had that van to get around in - would have saved on the toosies.

I know I'm behind in the blog but the internet seems to be very temperamental; sometimes it works, sometimes not. That, and I'm usually exhausted when I get back to the villa. The day is long and non-stop; I've walked more miles in the last couple of days than I have in the last year. There is so much to see!

So please keep checking back. I hope to find time to catch up. I will be back to blogging regularly when I can.

Ciao!

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1 YEAR AGO: And The Winner Is…
2 YEARS AGO: Palm In The Dirty South
3 YEARS AGO: Ed Makes Out With Fair Fluff Friday
4 YEARS AGO: Blue Light Special
5 YEARS AGO: Blue Collar

Lunch In Fossombrone

Fossombrone, Le Marche, Italy. The belltower in the town is at the very end of this street. Sorry for the dreary photo, but it was overcast and rainy on this day. Of course, that didn't stop us from walking around the town the family is from and then going to have a delicious lunch at a local restaurant.

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1 YEAR AGO: Taking Carving To A Whole New Level
2 YEARS AGO: Is There Enough Yellow In THIS One For Ya?
3 YEARS AGO: Talk About A Thorn In Your Side
4 YEARS AGO: Individuality
5 YEARS AGO: Text Me

Ten. Ten. Ten. A Perfect Score!

My mother reminded me that my trip to Italy started on 10.10.10 and that I'll be able to remember that date forever as my first time traveling to Europe. I didn't even think about it since our flight left the United States on the 9th, but since I did arrive in Rome on the 10th, I'll just go with that!

I think the tens can be looked upon as a sign...that this trip is going to be an absolute TEN across the board! Tomorrow I promise to start on the fabulous part of the trip, but for now, let's get the unpleasant stuff out of the way; the rant part of The Daily Rant.

The flight? Horrible. Unbearably and undeniably horrible. The only good thing is that in a three across seat grouping, Ed and I were the only ones in our row. But that's the only positive thing I will say.

At this point in my life, I think the most unpleasant experience I've ever had was when I had an endoscopy; semi-rigid tubing, snaked down my throat like Roto-Rooter was looking for drain clogs. While the doctor was scoping out the situation on a video screen to find out what was happening in my esophagus, stomach and duodenum, I was gagging because they were wiggling what felt like a garden hose in my throat. AND, because of that hose, I couldn't breathe, and the "numbing spray" they put down my throat to minimize the pain wasn't working. Oh, and my eyes were watering (mostly because I was crying) and I'm pretty sure I was drooling. Rough day, that was.

That said, you need to know that I'd have an endoscopy while having my feet in the stirrups at the gyno, and at the same time I'd be getting a root canal (if they could get to my teeth past the hose) before I'd want to have a flight like that again. Let me lay it out in three words...

Cramped. Tight. And if that's not enough, my favorite: HOT.

You know how I hate hot, right? That wasn't even the worst of it. What airline doesn't have individual air vents? Ooooh! I know, I know! ALITALIA, that's who.

So I sat in my teeny tiny seat, 17 inches wide, and immediatly looked around the plane for the Air Marshal. I figured if I took him down at some point during the flight, when I couldn't take it anymore, they'd haul my ass off to jail or something and I wouldn't have to sit in that tiny seat. Do you know how wide 17" is? No? Go get a measuring tape. I'll wait.

See it? OK. My hips haven't been 17" wide since............

Well, since NEVER. And even with the armrest up (if you want to call cutting into the side of my rib "up") I couldn't sit comfortably. The seat reclined about two inches, but the armrest stayed where it was. And then the guy in front of me kept his seat back for the entire flight. Which meant I was able to taste his hair. That guy? My cousin's boyfriend.

So the nine hours we were on the flight, I think I got a grand total of forty minutes sleep. I didn't complain because I didn't want to be the bitchy annoying one of the group (again) and really, what could be done anyway once you're in the air? So I just murmured to myself and shared a few heavy sighs with Ed.

Then we landed in Rome and began the twelve mile walk to our rental car...I'll spare you that tirade.

OK...the rant is now out of my system and I can move on to a vacation I'm pretty damn sure is going to be an actual TEN.


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1 YEAR AGO: Lighting The Testosterone Torch
2 YEARS AGO: Eddie Helps The Economy Friday
3 YEARS AGO: Talk About A Thorn In Your Side
4 YEARS AGO: My Sentiments Exactly
5 YEARS AGO: Mason? Dixon? Line? BELOW It.

Today's The Day!!

Tonight we leave for Italy. Tomorrow afternoon, we will be in Rome. I don't think I've been too excited up until now. I mean, I was saying I was excited, but I don't think I was actually feeling it.

It didn't really have a chance for it to sink it since we worked right up until Thursday and I was so busy with my researching and last minute tasks, that I just felt kind of busy. But now the day is here and we're packing the luggage in the car and getting ready to head out for the afternoon.

When my brother heard I was going, he said "You're the only one in the family to visit the homeland."

I can't wait to see the country my great-grandparents came from and I'm super excited to take pictures. I hope the good luck picture fairy is with me so I get some really good shots.

I will be blogging from Italy, so please be sure to check back. And don't forget to comment.

I'll see you all when I return!!


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1 YEAR AGO: Ed Getting Jiggy Among The Sunflowers
2 YEARS AGO: The Bridge To Everywhere
3 YEARS AGO: Scared Into Anorexia
4 YEARS AGO: A Good Hot Cup Is Desperately Needed
5 YEARS AGO: Am I The Only One Who Noticed This??

Tacky Prevails

While in New York, before our trip, I was shopping in Middletown. And as I was walking along, I was shocked to see Joyce Leslie; a store that was around when I was in high school.

I was not shocked to see that they're still selling the same tacky crap but was does shock me is that people are still wearing it!

Skank never seems to go out of style.

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1 YEAR AGO: Not As Hot As It Looks
2 YEARS AGO: Burst
3 YEARS AGO: Stockholm Syndrome
4 YEARS AGO: Playing In A Dream Near You
5 YEARS AGO: The Greatest Story Ever Told

I Wonder What Color The Ancient Etruscans Wore?

Today I went to the mall to get a manicure and pedicure; you know, in case anyone in Italy wants to see my toes.

The girl doing my toes took FORever to give me a pedicure. Usually, I'm not in a rush but because I had so many last minute things to do, I really was hoping to get in and out of there. She finished the pedicure but didn't get to the polishing part because she had to finish up another customer, but transferred me over to another guy to start on my nails.

He had just finished my nails when the fire alarm in the mall started to go off. Loudly. Right outside our door.

No one moved.

In fact, a lady walked in asking if she could get a pedicure, having to raise her voice over the screaming loud alarm. Only in New York does someone still need a pedicure during what very well may be a fire. I'm serious, though. Not one person moved. Not even me. We just sort of looked around like, "Is this real?"

Yep. It was real. Paul Blart finally came into the salon and told us we all had to go outside. So out we went, into the parking lot to wait for the "all clear" signal. My nails were done and my toes were done but not polished and I was thinking, I could just leave and they'd never even know... But I didn't. Ed was sleeping in the truck and I had more shopping to do. So I paid the nail guy right there in the parking lot and told him I would be back to get my toes polished.

And off I went, leaving the parking lot just as the fire engines and police arrived. I drove to another shopping plaza a few miles away, hit up a few more stores and then headed back to the mall to get my signature color applied.

Ed slept through the whole thing. The fire engine sirens, the driving to another shopping plaza and back, even my telling him that the mall had been evacuated. He couldn't have cared less what was going on around him. He doesn't even care what color my toes are.

But they're done and I'm ready to hit Italy with Pompeii Purple gracing my tootsies!


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1 YEAR AGO: You Ask, I’ll Answer
2 YEARS AGO: You Can't Hide From The Eyes Of A Truck Driver
3 YEARS AGO: Flurry Of Ruffles
4 YEARS AGO: A Bag Full Of Dicks
5 YEARS AGO: Go West Young Man!! Uh, I Mean East. East.

Three

Three more days until we leave for Italy!! I'm only telling you that because a) I'm getting excited and b) I have nothing else to write about.


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1 YEAR AGO: Not Exactly “Daily” By Definition
2 YEARS AGO: I Almost Married This Man
3 YEARS AGO: Greeting Fair Lovers For Over Fifty Years
4 YEARS AGO: The Infinite Wisdom Of A Grandfather
5 YEARS AGO: Swingin’ Good Times

Maybe They Just Don't Like Oklahomans

Today we got our International Driving Permits for our trip to Italy. As I was researching for the trip, I discovered that not only are these recommended, but they're required by law. I'm not in any mood to be spending the day in the company of the Carabinieri trying to translate my driver's license, so Ed and I got one. At only $15 each, they're a real bargain.

Last time my cousin was in Italy, they were stopped for what they felt was an innocuous maneuver and were required to pay what they claim was a "large sum" of money. From what I read, the police are empowered to collect fines right on the spot, so I'm not really sure if they paid a legitimate fine or were taken advantage of. I'll be sure to get the details of that little encounter on the plane ride over. I want to be prepared.

As for the IDP, I'm glad to have one. If for no other reason than that it seemed to irk the clerk who processed them for us. We stopped at a AAA in Oklahoma City on our way from California to New York and in the fifteen minutes it took us to get the permits, we heard our first travel warning.

The woman behind the counter asked us where were were headed. When she heard we were going to Italy she told us to make sure we didn't hand over our "real licenses" because "They don't like Americans over there". Seriously, lady? I mean, I know you live in Oklahoma and all, but really?

I wish I thought to ask her if she'd ever actually been there, but Ed was giving me the evil eye; the one that said do not say a thing. One friend of mine said the clerk had probably never been further than fifty miles of the seat she was sitting in.

Another friend said, when also told that they don't like Americans "over there", that she usually answers with, "Oh, good. I don't like Americans either."

That should shut them up.


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1 YEAR AGO: Mexico? Derecho.
2 YEARS AGO: Juxtaposition
3 YEARS AGO: Eddie Sports Pigtails Friday
4 YEARS AGO: Gambling Under The Big Sky
5 YEARS AGO: Sleeping Beauty

Race To The Finish

And here's where the beef from Hereford goes - to The Big Texan in Amarillo. For their 72 oz. steak challenge!

This guy tried his hand at the challenge; you have one hour to eat 72 oz. of steak, salad, baked potato, 3 shrimp and a roll. If you don't finish, you psy just $1.00 an ounce. Sadly, he didn't finish. Not because he ran out of time, but because he ran out of room to put all that beef!


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1 YEAR AGO: The Way To A Man’s Heart Isn’t Only Through His Stomach
2 YEARS AGO: The Monarch Of Style
3 YEARS AGO: I Walked Around The Building For An Hour Looking For That Door
4 YEARS AGO: Home On The Range: It’s Not Just The Place Where The Deer And Antelope Play
5 YEARS AGO: Mina Clarkson

Where's The Beef?

In Hereford, Texas! There's not much to look at through here and the air smells like cow manure, but you know somewhere down the line, these little buggers are going to make one tasty hamburger or delicious steak!


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1 YEAR AGO: If One Could Love A Convenience Store
2 YEARS AGO: Eddie Home On The Alien Range Friday
3 YEARS AGO: N Is For Nanny. Oh, And Negligent.
4 YEARS AGO: The Answer Will Be Revealed In Nine Months
5 YEARS AGO: Lipgloss And Cocoa Puffs

Countdown To Pisa

You can wait for it to fall over...

Or you can take a bite out of it...

We leave for Italy in ONE WEEK! The excitement is growing.

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1 YEAR AGO: Eddie Goes Waaaay South Friday
2 YEARS AGO: Port Of Long Beach
3 YEARS AGO: Layers Of History
4 YEARS AGO: Would I Be Cheesy If I Said I Wanted To Drive THIS Rig??
5 YEARS AGO: Paper Glow

Old School

Spotted in La Verne, California.

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1 YEAR AGO: Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough
2 YEARS AGO: The Clubhouse Girls
3 YEARS AGO: Morning On The Air Train
4 YEARS AGO: The Other Side Of The Tracks
5 YEARS AGO: Vicki Bin Laden

It All Started With Betty

Yesterday, while Ed was driving and I was cruising Facebook, we were listening to talk radio when a woman's voice came on the air (some "contributor" or "commentator" or "analyst"...whatever the hell she was) and my first thought was, I hate the sound of her voice.

I find that happens a lot with me; I just find the women so hard to listen to. When I am driving, I actually have to limit my listening of talk radio if a woman is doing the talking. I find them to be very hyper and peppy, their voices too girlie and way too many octaves over normal. And sometimes, they even giggle. That one sound, the "giggle", destroys any credibility they might have had up that point.

Frankly, these are the types of women I hate to listen to in real life too; I once quit a job on the second day because the girl who sat next to me had such an annoying voice, I couldn't stand listening to her alternating breathiness and giggling. It made my head hurt. If that kind of voice prompts me to quit a job, you can imagine how quickly my fingers reach for the radio dial to change it to someone hopefully more normal; someone who doesn't sound like a Disney character.

I'd rather listen to someone like Christiane Amanpour, Ashleigh Banfield, Diane Sawyer or Maria Bartiromo; women who not only are intelligent, but sound it. So after listening to one of the women with the voice of a six year old, I made a comment on Facebook stating how much I can't stand listening to the voices of women newscasters. That prompted a friend to ask, "What about women sportscasters in men's locker rooms? Should they be allowed?"

My response to that was, "Ya know...I really don't think so."

I went on to say that not only do I think women shouldn't be reporting in men's locker rooms, but I also don't think they should be police officers, fire fighters or soldiers. I know it's archaic, but it that sense, I'm very traditional. Those are men's jobs. Let the men fight for the country, get shot by criminals and die in burning buildings.

But in the same breath, I had to say, "I'm sure there are a lot of old time truckers that don't think women should be truck drivers either." And I don't know what to say to that. I guess to me, this doesn't seem like a man's job. It's like driving a big car.

I've given this some thought over the years (the women in a man's job thing) and always come back to the same question, "WHY do you want to do that job?" I mean, WHY do you want to stand around a locker room that smells like feet and ass sweat just to talk about a game? WHY do you want to put your life on the line chasing down losers and crackheads? WHY do you want to walk into a building that's on fire, knowing you may never come out? That's what MEN are for. They are supposed to do those things. They are supposed to do the tough jobs. The dirty jobs. The dangerous jobs.

I guess it's the way I grew up. No man in my family would even think of letting their wife, sister or daughter do a job a man was supposed to do. They wouldn't even let us pump our own gas or take out the garbage. (Oh how I loved those days.) Even when I repeatedly asked my uncles for jobs on their construction sites, they told me no. Not a chance. I don't know what they expected me to be when I grew up, but I know for sure I never thought I'd be a truck driver. Although at 43, this isn't really a "lifetime" career for me since my life is half over.

I think I'll do a post sometime about gender roles and how they've changed over the years, but I'm pretty sure I'm still going to lean toward the traditional side. I like when men were manly (and the ones delivering our news, not feeding the baby and changing their diapers) and women were pursuing other options (like nursing and teaching) and looking pretty while doing so.

I suppose I should be glad things changed though, huh? If it hadn't, I wouldn't be typing this from the cab of my 18-wheeler.


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1 YEAR AGO: Traffic Stopping Skyline
2 YEARS AGO: When You Are Proud To Be Told Your Roots Are Showing
3 YEARS AGO: Engulfed In Color
4 YEARS AGO: Fish And Loaves Of Bread Are Not The Only Things He Is Generous With
5 YEARS AGO: 23 Things

A Primm Landscape

Interstate 15 from Primm, Nevada to the California state line.


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1 YEAR AGO: I Am A Kandee Addict
2 YEARS AGO: The Tiny Intersection Where The Colors Collide
3 YEARS AGO: Loved Shack
4 YEARS AGO: Holy Mother Of Pearl
5 YEARS AGO: The Starfish Effect