As part of our Mother's Day callout at the newspaper, we asked people to send in kids' drawings of their moms and grandmas. We didn't get much response, but I decided to share these... Clearly, my children think I'm beautiful.

Violet drew this picture of me when she was three. I'm afraid it's not very flattering. Do I scare my children?

So it’s almost Mother’s Day. As the proud mommy of four kids, I’m expecting something fantastic as my gift: for my husband to take my four adorable children and go camping on the Trinity River. Far away.

Now, I know the whole “point” of Mother’s Day is to spend priceless time with your adorable children, but really, I get enough of that circus all week long.

And for all those moms who are like, “Oh, I just want to spend all day in my pajamas playing with my wonderful children, doing art projects and playing with toy trucks and reading Green Eggs and Ham 85 times,” I really hope you’re lying.

I’d like to spend Mother’s Day like this: wake up, go back to sleep for an hour. Get up, take a long, luxurious shower (without having to answer any ridiculous questions, like “where are my socks?” or “do hamsters live in Canada?”) followed by a leisurely brunch out with friends. That could be followed by a day of uninterrupted scrapbooking, reading,  flower planting, wine drinking, movie watching, chocolate eating, etc. I could also go for a pedicure.

But, alas, I do not believe this is how my Sunday will turn out.

Well, half of it might.

Paul may take both Caliber and Violet camping. Score!

Gage has an AAU basketball tournament in Medford on both Saturday and Sunday, so I’ll be taking Ryder to that, and that should be fun. Especially if I can sneak in a trip to the mall while in Medford.

Alright, alright. For all you grumpy people who expect me to say my perfect Mother’s Day would consist of spending a “quiet” day at home with my family, don’t despair. Rest assured, when 6 p.m. rolls around, I’ll once again be at home, surrounded by my four sticky children, who in all honesty I love more than life itself. I’ll settle for a crazy day as a mom, and enjoy ending it with a family dinner, complete with my own mommy there.

Or... you know... I could always use a pair of diamond earrings. :)

When I was in junior high and high school, I played on a girl’s soccer team. We played our hearts out.  We kicked girls in the shins. We laughed. We had a ball.

We also only won one game.

Literally, one. And if I remember correctly, it was against a team who was in a lower age division.

Thinking back on those years, those practices, the crowded car trips to away games in Susanville and Anderson, the bruised shins, the laughter and fun and camaraderie, I can’t help but smile.

Today, I absolutely love watching my children play sports. Gage played in his first major league Little League game last night, and it was absolutely awesome.

When they put him in to pitch, I felt like I was going to throw up I was so anxious. Not because I wanted him to do well, but because I know how he reacts when things don’t go his way.

Turns out, he did great. But still, he wanted to do even better. I keep telling him, it really doesn’t matter if you win or lose, get a hit or strike out, make a spectacular catch or drop a fly ball. What matters is having fun and doing your best.

This morning, as I was reciting my familiar speech, dispensing the above mentioned advice, I’m sure all Gage saw was my mouth moving,  with an annoying “wah wah wah” noise coming out of it. But I mean it. I just want him to smile out there... have a little fun.

Like we did when we lost our 40th soccer game and left the field mud covered, exhausted and starving for Taco Bell.

Circa 1995 at Mount Shasta Youth Sports Park

I love television. It’s a trait I inherited from my dad, who always has the TV on, 24/7.

Though my husband has informed me it’s strange to constantly have the TV on, even when I’m not watching it, I find it a comfort and will continue the mind-rotting tradition for my own children (at least when Paul’s not home to switch it off when I’m not looking.)

When I was young, I remember being curled against Dad as he flipped through the channels – from Headline News to infomercials to various TV movies.

Much of my early education in pop culture and history came from television. Dad explained the tragedy of the Titanic, the deaths of both Elvis and Marilyn Monroe, the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle and much more while watching movies and documentaries on the subjects.

When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, I remember Dad raptly watching its news coverage. I remember the men clamoring over the wall on the TV, holding up blocks of concrete and shouting jubilantly.

Dad explained what the Wall was built for. He told me was stationed in Germany in 1961 during the Berlin Wall Crisis, and told me what it meant to him to see the thing demolished. I felt a rush of happiness for those Germans who were soon to be free of the highly graffitied eyesore that prevented their free travel.

Being an only child, I also watched a lot of TV on my own. Many of my favorite movies were musicals. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was one of my favorites. I think this was the beginning of my penchant for redheads. Of the seven brothers, Adam, the oldest and most macho was my favorite. I loved the dancing, the singing, and most of all, the love story (even though the men kidnapped the women and forced them to stay the winter on their farm by causing a dangerous avalanche.)

Annie was another of my favorites. My most beloved character was Miss Hannigan, who was constantly drunk, hiccuping and cussing out little girls. Tim Curry as Rooster was a close second, even though he was probably going to kill Annie at the end of the movie.

Tim Curry also enthralled me in Clue and another one of my favorite movies, “The Worst Witch,” (an ’80s version of Harry Potter, in which student witch Mildred does everything wrong but later saves Halloween.) Looking back, it's so bad it's fantastic.

Another staple was a series called Faerie Tale Theatre, in which actors including Robin Williams, Liza Minelli, Teri Garr, Jeff Bridges and Shelley Duvall starred in the telling of various fairy tales.

I recently found this series on Netflix... unfortunately Violet prefers UFC fighting to fairy tales, and Paul told me flat out that the episodes were “too embarrassing to watch” – particularly the one where Robin Williams wears tights and a frog suit in “The Frog Prince.”

As I got older, Mom would record movies for me, and I watched these tapes over and over again. I fell in love with John Travolta as Danny Zuko in Grease, and again as the cab driver James in “Look Who’s Talking.”

I also fell madly in love with Christopher Plummer as  the handsome and grumpy Captain Von Trapp in “The Sound of Music,” Patrick Swayze as bad boy Johnny Castle in “Dirty Dancing,” Kurt Russell as ‘sweaty carpenter’ Dean in “Overboard” and furry chested Tom Selleck as Peter in “Three Men and a Baby.”

The first R-rated movie I ever watched was Robocop, and I must say it made quite an impression on me.

While I don’t remember the entire thing clearly, I seem to recall the plot involving dead cops being made into robots to fight crime. Now when I was eight, this idea was completely terrifying to me. The scene which was the most harrowing involved a bad guy being shoved into a tanker full of gasoline. This somehow corroded his eyeballs, which were protruding from his head when he finally made it out.

Today, I revel in satellite television and the hundreds of channels it allows me to receive. I'm pretty sure DVR is the best invention ever, as it allows me to record my favorites, then watch them when everyone else is asleep (and Paul's not awake to make fun of my programming choices).

Yes, America’s Next Top Model is ridiculous, and yes, True Blood is extremely campy (and ‘pure trash,’ as my mother is fond of saying), but I wouldn’t want to live without my fantastic flat screen (which, by the way, was a gift from my parents, who know how I treasure my TV).

Now that I’ve confessed I’m an avid NKOTB fan (that’s the New Kids on the Block, to those who aren’t in the know) it will probably come as no surprise that I’m super excited for the Hunger Games movie to be released tomorrow.

I read the books a few months ago, and they were great... absolutely absorbing and thought quite provoking.

If Mt. Shasta Cinemas had a midnight showing, I’d be tempted to go then (like I did when the last two Harry Potter movies came out, and the... ahem... last two Twilight movies, too.)

Hunger Games revolves around 16 year-old Katniss Everdeen, who lives in a post-apocalyptic country called Panem. She lives in the poorest of Panem’s 12 districts, and has learned to evade the law and hunt for food to keep her little sister, Primrose, and her mother alive since her father died.

The book gets its name from an annual event in which two children from each district, or “tributes” are selected by lottery to compete in the ultimate reality television show – a kill-or-be-killed battle to the death – in which only one resourceful youth can survive.

Sounds yucky – at least that’s what I thought when my friend, Alli (a junior high school teacher) told me about the books and encouraged me to read them.

I was wary – did I really want to read about teenagers gouging each other’s eyes out and stalking one another before decapitating their enemies gladiator style? After all, when Paul turns on a movie like Casino, I complain about the violence (I hate seeing Joe Pesci get bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat in that cornfield, no matter how much he deserved it.)

However, I kept hearing how great Hunger Games was, so I decided to give the book a try. I was hooked by the first few pages.

The author, Suzanne Collins, masterfully pulls you into a society where superficial opulence and garish fashion (including whiskers and skin that’s dyed blue) is commonplace to the privileged people who live in the Capitol, while those unlucky souls born in the poorer districts have to fight for their very survival.

The book’s brimming with social commentary – most interesting for me, about how we relish watching women desperately vie for long stem red roses from bachelors, and, even more embarrassingly, a bunch of idiot twenty-somethings toast themselves in a tanning bed before getting in a catfight at a bar.

In the Hunger Games, television cameras follow the children on their journey into battle, complete with makeovers, interviews, fantastic costumes and sob-inducing film packages about their lives back home (reminds me a lot of American Idol.)

The Games are orchestrated by a producer who comes up with different locations and scenarios for the annual event to take place, with different obstacles to keep the contestants on their toes so the Capitol audience doesn’t get bored watching them sleep or hide out in a cave to prevent being slaughtered by a fellow 13 year old with a machete. (Oh yeah, and it's mandatory for the citizens of Panem to watch the games, which are televised live.)

Surprisingly (or maybe not... this is a story for teens) Hunger Games also has a romantic plot line. Katniss has been accompanied to the games from District 12 by Peeta Mellark, a boy who once showed her a kindness that changed her life, and who also happens to harbor an undying burning love for her.

Though I loved Twilight (who could resist Edward?) The Hunger Games is much different, and touches on serious subjects such as poverty, starvation, oppression, government control, “Big Brother,” and the effects of war on society.

The characters are put in situations that are morally difficult, and watching them work their way through the impossible life and death choices they’re presented with is enthralling.

I know I’ll be at the movie theater Friday (or, at the latest, Saturday) ready to see Katniss, Peeta, and the other characters hit the big screen.

I love the New Kids on the Block. And not just like, “oh yeah, I used to have their 'Step by Step' tape and a poster of Jordan on my wall,” I’m talking, my best friend and I actually spent hundreds of dollars for backstage passes at their comeback concert in 2008, and in 2010, we went on an actual cruise in the Bahamas WITH ALL 5 NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK ON BOARD.

It may have been the dorkiest thing I’ve ever done, but I must explain that Kassie and I have loved the New Kids since we were young. The first concert I ever went to was in Reno, when we saw the New Kids sing their hearts out in the Hangin’ Tough era.

I had New Kids posters coating my walls, scrapbooks full of photos clipped from Bop! and Teen magazine. I had their dolls. We watched their cartoon. We wore their t-shirts, slept in sheets with their faces plastered all over them and watched tapes of their concerts over and over and over again, fantasizing that we were the girl Donnie pulled up on stage while singing Cover Girl.

Kassie loved Joey McIntyre, and I always liked Donnie Wahlberg best. (Okay, we still do.)

So when we heard in 2008 the NKOTB were making a comeback, Kassie purchased tickets for my birthday (probably the most awesome present ever.) Later, we decided it prudent to upgrade to backstage tickets to their “Full Service” tour. On October 9, 2008, we met the New Kids for the first time. (Yes, we were in our late 20s. Yes it was decidedly dorky. But it was also AWESOME.)

A year later, we went a little crazy. We decided we desperately needed to go on the second annual New Kids on the Block Cruise to the Bahamas.

When the day came when we could book the tickets, Kassie spent two long hours on the Rose Tours website, which kept crashing due to the  sheer volume of psycho fans like us trying to secure their tickets.

Kassie finally called me at work to admit defeat. I told her I’d go online one more time and if I couldn’t get through, we’d save our money and cry.

I typed in the url, waited a few seconds, and miraculously... I WAS ON!

I called Kassie, squealed (quietly), pulled out my credit card and promptly booked us a cabin.

Fast forward to May 13, 2010. We are on our way to Miami, where we’d be sailing out on Carnival’s Imagination for a three day cruise through the Bahamas. I’m pregnant with Ryder and uncomfortable in the humidity, but we’re both pumped for this adventure.

I think it’s extremely important to note that while Kassie and I were thrilled at the prospect of being on the same ship as Donnie, Danny, Jordan, Joe and Jon, we were nowhere NEAR the most excited people on the boat.

Girls were going absolutely bat-crap-crazy. There was crying, falling, flashing, screaming, peeing of pants – and all this was being done by grown women, most of whom were over the age of 30.

Jordan Knight during the cruise launch party. Please note the women on the verge of peeing their pants on the railing above.

Kassie and I spent the next few days in awe. We went to a  New Kids concert on board, went to MTV-like parties on the deck, had our photo taken with Donnie at the ship’s restaurant, got extremely seasick on choppy water, saw Joey on the stairwell, nearly died of heatstroke on an island, rocked out in turquoise water that was warm as bath water, fed some pretty cool blue and yellow tropical fish, learned fitness tips from Danny, hung around the pool, made fun of some of the other girls on board, and generally had an awesome three days at sea.

When all was said and done, I’m so happy Kassie and I spent the money to go on this adventure. After the cruise was over and I returned home to Mount Shasta, I felt like my obsession had finally been cured. Kassie and I had spent thousands of dollars to see the New Kids. We’d met them, talked with each of them, got their autographs and  had our photos taken with them. I could finally lay my strange obsession with the NKOTB to rest.

But it’s times like these when I look at photos from the cruise that I start to think... maybe we should have saved up for Cruise 2012? (Yes, smarty-pantses out there, there is one planned for June. But, unfortunately for me, I just checked cabin availability. They’re sold out.)

I’m still fumbling around and figuring it out, but I think I’m going to love Pinterest! Of course, another online obsession is the last thing I need.

I began noticing my friends “pinning” things about a month ago, and these “pins” posted to Facebook (which I’m usually monitoring in an obsessive, compulsive way). I decided to check it out, and of course it looks like one of those things I’ll soon be addicted to... the photos! The categories! The quotes! The fun!

Another recent addiction: Draw Something on my iPhone. It’s like Words With Friends (love!) but Pictionary.

Other apps I use consistently include ESPN’s ScoreCenter (Giants baseball scores are a must), Pandora, and Instagram.

I will also admit I recently broke an addition to Angry Birds and Water? – so much fun!

What are the websites/apps you can’t live without?

So when I first began blogging, I figured I could review books as I finished reading them. I figured I’d have at least one book review every three or so weeks... I read fast, and that would give me a steady stream of blog entries, right?

In early December, I started IQ84 by Haruki Murakami... and I finally finished the more than 1,000 page book on Sunday. Whew!

Because it’s translated from Japanese, I found the book to be beautifully intriguing. I love that I actually had to look up some of the words (handy that I was reading it on my Nook... a press of a button, and there was my definition!)

There are scenes and images from this book that will stick with me for a long time to come – that’s the measure of a valuable book for me. If it’s something that makes me think long after I’ve finished it, the time I dedicated to reading it was worthwhile.

Because of the story’s length, I spent so much time with the characters I feel like I’ve known them forever.

The book, which is a mixture of science fiction, thriller and romance, centers around two main characters, Aomame and Tengo, and the many connections woven between them when they inadvertently enter an alternate world where there are two moons in the sky.

To tell more about the plot would be difficult, because reading the book is rather like taking a leisurely stroll down a winding road, when you take time to look around and enjoy the scenery rather than concentrating on reaching your final destination. (You could also compare it to quicksand. The more you thrash around trying to figure out the mysteries, the more difficult and strange they become.) I must say there were some elements of the story I didn’t totally understand, but they were hauntingly beautiful, nonetheless.

The book contains many creepy elements, including “Little People” that come out of dead and sleeping people’s mouths, freaky objects that are made out of thin air and hair, called “air chrysalises,” and a frightening fee collector who made my skin crawl all the way from Japan, through the pages of 1Q84 and into my living room. He was creepy enough for me to get up and lock my own front door when reading late at night (the only time I get a quiet moment in my house.)

These strange parts are balanced by a beautiful love story and lots of vivid, interesting and quirky characters. Plus, the ending is actually satisfying (even though not everything is explained... but that's part of the intrigue, right?) So many times I feel like I dedicate so many hours to reading a long confusing book only to find the ending terribly disappointing.

Also interesting, for me, was learning more about the Japanese culture, particularly the food and the place names. Very cool.

While I wouldn’t recommend the book as a short (or easy) read, if you’re looking for a challenge and literature that makes you think, 1Q84 is a great choice.

In high school, I had a group of five wonderful friends. We often discussed what we wanted to do in the future. Ideas ranged from world travelers, ABC news anchors, broadway stars and the like.

We had fun being wild, carefree teenagers, doing things we are now terrified our children will try in a few short years. Today, we have 10.5 children between us, and when we get together, it’s like going to the zoo.

We never thought, 15 years ago, we’d be proficient in some of the crazy mom skills we have now.  Here are some examples of the talents we have perfected since becoming moms:

• The ability to change a diaper in less than 30 seconds, even if the child is angry and attempting to do a back hand spring.

• The ability to see something beautiful in every strange picture our children draw for us. Even if it’s an extremely unflattering picture OF us.

• The ability to have a telephone conversation with the phone company/credit card company/each other through anything, including temper tantrums, a hurricane or a group of children playing tennis on the Wii.

• The ability to use the toilet while holding a sleeping baby that will scream if you try to put them down.

• The calm acceptance required to go back to sleep on sheets that have pee on them (covered with a towel, of course).

• The creative ability to make up terrifying monsters to get our kids to do necessary tasks. Example: the Pee Pee Poo Poo Monster, who eats kids that don’t wash their hands after using the toilet (yeah... that one’s mine.)

• The patience to comb nits out of a child’s hair for eight hours straight  and disinfect/de-lice an entire apartment without complaining/crying (much).

• The ability to memorize books, such as Chicka Chicka Boom Boom in order to “read” them to children while still secretly watching The Bachelor. (That's not mine. I don't watch The Bachelor, just other trashy reality TV shows.)

• The knife skills required to cut pork chops/steak/chicken/carrots into safe, chewable bites in 15 seconds flat.

• The uncanny ability to strap a child in a carseat situated in the back seat while sitting in the driver’s seat of a car.

• The ability to safely push a grocery cart with a kid sitting in it and three other children hanging from the sides without running over any other shoppers.

• The ability to appreciate any small moment we might have to get together and visit. Even if it is punctuated by the need to police the bedroom the kids are playing in, just in case someone found a marker.

• The talent to detangle the hair of Barbies that look as though they will never be beautiful again.

• The ability to watch embarrassing cartoons, such as Yo Gabba Gabba, without bringing up the strange phallic shape of the characters (in front of the kids, at least.)

• The talent to wash poop out of a one-piece swimming suit without vomiting (this one isn’t mine, it’s from Tina Fey’s book Bossypants, but it’s soooo true).

• Even when we think we cannot stand our offspring for another 10 minutes, we magically do, and at the end of the day, we still manage to tell them we love them. And mean it.

A few weeks ago, when the... ahem... "Stuff People Say" meme was all over the internet, I decided it would be awesome to do one about Mount Shasta. Unfortunately, I'm not that enterprising or film savvy. However, I compiled a short list of phrases that would need to be included in such a meme.

STUFF PEOPLE SAY IN MOUNT SHASTA:

“Did you see the mountain last night? It was like, all pink, with this huge cloud floating over it. I think it was a spaceship.”

“You need gear to climb Mt. Shasta?”

“The yeti was looking at me with these wide, amber-colored eyes.”

“Do you feel that? I don’t know... it’s like a vibration.”

“So, when’s the last time it blew up?”

“Put that cell phone away!  Don’t you know they cause cancer?”

“Remember the Harmonic Convergence?”

“This crystal really resonates with your energy.”

“We’re a normal town.”

“How do you say that? Sis-ki-you?”

“The Galactic Federation is here to assist us with the shift, so do not be afraid.”

“The mountain called me here. So how did you get to Shasta?”

“That’s not dust! They’re spirit orbs.”

“No, you don’t look like a lemurian. Lemurians are taller.”

“Shhh! The mountain’s sleeping. Don’t wake her.”

“So how do I get to Weed?”

Have any you'd like to add? I'd love to hear them/add them :)

And if anyone does make one of these videos... let me know. Can't want to see it.

When Mama ain’t happy... you know the saying.

Today I’m tired and cranky. Let me tell you why.

I crawled into bed around 9:30 last night, and just as I was shutting my eyes, the phone rang, sending my stomach into my throat. No one calls our house that late, unless it’s some sort of emergency. So I stumbled to the phone, only to see “Unknown name/Unknown number” listed on my caller ID.

Did someone I know get arrested and need me to come pick them up at the jail? Did a friend get into a horrific car accident and need an immediate blood transfusion that only I can provide?

I am panicked as I pick up the phone and gasp, “Hello?”

What do I hear?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello! Hello!?” I scream into the receiver.

No response.

Just beep. Beep. Beep.

When it becomes clear to me that no human is going to answer, I angrily slam the phone down. Ryder starts crying.

Saying very bad words under my breath, I pick him up, stub my toe on Violet’s toy keyboard lying on the living room floor, and rock him back to sleep.

Five minutes later, I deposit my angelic sleeping baby back in his crib and crawl once again into bed, quickly falling into a deep and luxurious sleep.

And what do you know? At 10:30, the phone rings. Groggily, I stumble to the phone, answer it, and get that beep. Beep. Beep.

Ryder wakes up. I make my way to the living room, this time stepping directly on the toy keyboard, sending it into refrains of “Camptown Ladies Sing This Song, Doo Dah! Doo Dah!”

Now cussing freely, and loud enough for everyone in the house to hear, I fumble for the keyboard’s off switch, cannot find it, turn on the light, and switch the instrument off, but not before it managed to complete the entire song and begin the jaunty beat of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.”

I turn off the light, settle into my rocking chair and finally soothe Ryder back to sleep. I carefully put him back in his crib and once again get back in bed.

Yes. You are correct. At 11:30, the phone rings again. Naturally, I cannot resist a ringing phone, and I repeat the entire process (though I was very careful to step all the way over the keyboard.)

You’d think I’d get smart and simply unplug the phone. But no. Instead, I went back to bed, only to have it ring just past midnight.

The most frustrating thing? There was no one to cuss out. No human person to yell at, just that infuriating Beep. Beep. Beep.
After the fourth time, I ripped phone cord from the wall and went to bed, absolutely irate.

I didn’t fall asleep until about 2 a.m.

This morning, I am not happy... and this means my children may have to deal with Hulk Mama tonight. (I’ll tell you more about her in a post later this week.)

Last week, a friend posted a cute quote on Facebook, from an unknown source:

“A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.”

This week, I realized my mom is even cooler than that. My mom is the kind who, after noticing her daughter is too busy vomiting to clean up her own children’s vomit, cleans it up for her.

She brings her sick daughter Sprite and a puke bucket. She takes care of sick grandchildren and washes all the linen on three beds. She makes toast, fluffs pillows, finds thermometers... and then washes more linen.

And as a thanks for this motherly heroism, she gets sick herself.

I love you mom. You are the best... and next time there’s pie, you can have the fourth slice. :)

Caliber lost his first tooth yesterday! It was apparently very exciting when it suddenly fell out while he was at school.

When I got home from work, he proudly showed me the gap and the little teeny tooth, which he put into a plastic sandwich bag so it would be safe under his pillow for the fairy to find.

It was a very long day, and when I fell asleep, I didn’t wake up until 6:30 a.m. Paul and I slept so peacefully, we didn’t hear any fairies... In fact, we forgot that fairies were going to be visiting at all!

When he first woke up, Cal was upset because he thought the fairy hadn’t come. But luckily, she just forgot to take the tooth. I came in to help look, and a $5 bill was located inside Cal’s pillow case.

Tooth fairies can be tricky like that, Violet explained to Cal as he pranced around the living room with his loot. (Violet knows this, because she wants to be a tooth fairy when she grows up. The biggest perks of being a tooth fairy, she told me firmly, are that you get to wear poofy dresses and work with money.)

Violet told Cal that sometimes, one fairy picks the teeth up, and a second fairy follows behind doling out money.  Another fairy, with dental training, sometimes flies along to inspect the teeth and be sure they’re in good condition. If you brush your teeth and take care of them, they’re way more valuable to tooth fairies than ones that are dirty and full of plaque.

Last night, the fairy that collects the teeth must have had the night off, Violet said.  The money-giving fairy was flying solo - and the good news is, Cal's tooth must have been relatively clean.

Gosh I love that little girl!

The tooth collecting fairy will most likely be visiting tonight to fetch Cal's little tooth. If she remembers.

A few months ago, I was sent up to the Siskiyou County Courthouse to get some case information for a story I was working on. On my way out, I stopped for a moment to admire the amazing  collection  of gold nuggets displayed in the foyer.

There were nuggets the size of my fist and powdery-fine gold as uniform and soft as  glistening sand. Nuggets the size of marbles and flakes that looked like Rice Krispies. They gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the smudged courthouse doors, and I was enthralled with the sight of all these riches, imagining how heavy those big nuggets would feel in my hand.

That they are worth a lot is amazing, but the historical value of such a collection is truly priceless, I thought to myself. After all, on Siskiyou County’s seal, there’s a miner panning for gold next to his trusty mule. Gold is a huge part of our history, our claim to fame.

Over the summer, my family spent a lot of time mining on a claim on the Trinity River.

We spent hours digging around to hit bedrock, pouring hundreds of shovels full of dirt into buckets and filtering it through a sluicebox to finally swirl the contents in a pan to see if we’d struck it rich. At the end of the day, the pan might have a few small specks of gold at the bottom.

Even though what ended up in the vial is probably only worth a couple of dollars, you’d think we’d won the lottery with how excited the kids got, jumping around and squealing at our “riches.”

Looking at that massive collection, I realized how amazing those courthouse nuggets really are.

That’s why I feel so sick that many of them were stolen last night – approximately $3 million worth. The suspects apparently entered the courthouse through an open window, and the alarm never sounded to alert authorities.

I'm disgusted by this theft. Those nuggets belong to the county, and it’s a shame that two people stole such a huge amount from our already cash-strapped communities.

To the law enforcement agents working to solve this case... happy hunting! Hope you find the treasure.

After more than four days of worry and a desperate full-scale search, our dog Scout is home, safe and sound!

Saturday afternoon, some people from Big Springs called to say they’d picked her up on Military Pass Road, about 10 miles away from where we were looking on Highway 97.

When she made it home,  even though she was skinny and exhausted, Scout gave the kids lots of sloppy kisses, inspected the torn up backyard (a result of the new septic system we had to put in while she was gone) and rolled around in the grass with her blue tick sister, Sally.

It’s so wonderful to look out my kitchen window and see those two silly reunited hounds leaning against one another, eyes closed with contentment in the January sunshine.

The experience of losing Scout, stressful as it was, reminded me once again what a great community I live in. The support I received from friends, co-workers, and even those I’d never met before was truly astounding.

Without me even asking her to, Cathy Athens, who works at the Supersaver, designed a terrific Lost Dog flyer, and Susie Escatel and Paul Palfini  took it upon themselves to post them at local businesses.

Michele Cloutier-Valdez, owner of Fun Factory Snowmobile and WaveRunner Rentals – also the owner of hounds – made more flyers and posted them in the area where Scout was lost. She gave me lots of good ideas for additional places to call and offered to help in any way she could.

Facebook friends, and friends of Facebook friends, including Dawn Snure, Rhonda Monaghan, Ronelle Nichols, Amber Brasch, Colette Cross Bradley, Liz Pyles, Rosa Mero, Stanley Krute, Joyce Taylor, Susan Boehm, Brenda Floyd, Tanya Swinney, Maggie Cardenas, Arlene Berwick and Betty Bonham shared the flyer and put the word out online. (If you also shared the flyer and I forgot to mention you specifically, thanks so much!)

Local radio DJ Cindy Summers even made announcements over the air.

Many of our friends and my mother and father-in-law helped Paul scour the miles and miles of forest roads near Miller Mountain and Grass Lake. They spent hours calling Scout’s name and looking for her tracks in the snow.

On top of it all, we got  loads of well wishes and prayers, and I’m sure they all contributed to us finding our furry friend.

And though Paul did not get the people’s names who found Scout, thank you for saving her and returning her to us.

Also exciting: we once again have a fully functional septic system! After hours and hours of work by my hard working husband and wonderful cousin Forest, we have a new leach line. I also appreciate the generosity of our friends and neighbors, Devon and Jasmine Priddy, who opened their doors and let three smelly children and one irritated mama use their shower.

As a new (hopefully less stressful) week rolls in, I just want to say thank you to everyone who supported me over the past few days. I was a wreck. You truly warm my heart and fill it to overflowing with gratitude. :)

My oldest son’s birthday was in December. For his party, I had six 10 and 11 year old boys to entertain, and my mom (who was a kindergarten teacher for 38 years) suggested this website, riddleme.net, to create a treasure hunt and keep them entertained.

She heard about it from a friend. I didn’t see this turning out well.

Though I was sure this program going to be lame, and I objected to paying $19.95 for a downloadable program that looked REALLY CHEESY, I agreed to give it a try.

I’m super glad I did... Riddle Me turned out to be a really cool idea. (Okay mama, I admit I was wrong.)

When I was little, my cousin Bonnie and I used to create treasure hunts like these for one another, but this program makes it so much easier.

To create a customized hunt, you go through the inventory and check off items you have in your own home and in your yard, like microwave, shampoo, coat closet, woodpile, basketball hoop, silverware drawer, mailbox, etc.

Then you tell the program the average age of the children you’re making the hunt for and the number of clues you’d like to have in the hunt. You also get to decide whether you want the hunt to be conducted inside, outside, or both.

Hit ‘create hunt’ and the program makes up all the clues for you. For younger kids, the clues are pretty straight forward. For older ones, the clues are riddles that take more time to decipher, or puzzles like word scrambles.

If you have a specific order you’d like the hunt to go in, you have an option to change whatever you’d like, or even to make up your own clues and locations to replace those that are suggested.

When you’re satisfied with the hunt, you can print out the clues, which are easy to cut out and hide in the specified locations. The program lets you know where to hide what, so you don’t get confused (which is the hardest part of making a treasure hunt. Trust me, I know from experience how uncool it is to be told to look in the toilet, and not find any clue there a despite a smelly and desperate hunt in the bowl, tank, etc.)

For Gage’s party, I made a 20 object hunt that had the kids running inside and outside. They had an absolute ball looking for the objects, and even asked for a second hunt when they were done eating cake.

I also used this program to make a treasure hunt over the two week holiday break when I felt like if I didn’t get my kids out of the house RIGHT AWAY, they would instead be stuffed in a closet where I didn’t have to deal with them for a while.

In addition to treasure hunts, I believe the program can create scavenger hunts and object hunts, which look like they’d be a lot of fun in the summer. I haven’t checked them out yet.

So, if you are looking for something fun to do with your kids this weekend, try Riddle Me. It really is awesome. Here's the link to the website. Seriously, ignore how cheesy it looks. It doesn't do the program justice.

Of course, the only thing my family will be hunting for this weekend is our dog, Scout, who is still lost. :(

Wish us luck!

Anyone that knows me well knows this: I’m not a what you’d call an “animal person.”

I don’t like dogs. Cats make me suspicious, and I find hamsters, rabbits and tweedleets (otherwise known as guinea pigs to everyone other than my children) downright creepy.

Don’t get me wrong... I’d never want to see an animal  get hurt. Like I said, I brake for squirrels and campaign against mouse traps. But as for cuddling with a furry feline or relaxing with a chihuahua in my bed, I’d rather pass.

That’s my stance. I’ve been called cold hearted, and even evil, but it’s the truth.

The problem is this... two years ago, my husband convinced me to get dogs. Scout and Sally are our two hounds, and he takes them hunting. They have a big backyard where they can romp and play, a warm insulated dog house (that’s more like a dog mansion) and they get lots of love from my kids, who don’t mind their muddy paws and big sloppy kisses. I’ll even admit I like them a little bit.

Which is why it’s so disturbing that Scout is missing. She went hunting on Tuesday and never came back with the other dogs.

It’s been a full scale search for two days now out by Miller Mountain and Grass Lake off of Highway 97, with absolutely no luck.

As if this wasn’t bad enough, today our sewer system backed up. Apparently, we need a new leach line.

When the kids got home from school this afternoon and got a glimpse of the poop pumping truck, they got incredibly excited. When I left  them to come back to work, they were dancing around it with glee, whooping and shouting, singing a delightful song about poop.

Could today get any worse?

Oh, it just did.

Correction: The number to call, if you do see an adorable hound dog bounding along Highway 97, is 859-0939. :) Cathy was wonderful helping make me this flyer, and I gave her the wrong number.

I am married to a lifelong hunter. He regularly brings home a variety of animals to add to our freezer’s coffers, including deer, bear, squirrels, quail, and other animals I can’t stomach. However, I cook them up and serve them to the family, who claim they’re delicious.

Though Paul grew up rifle  (and bow) in hand and feels no qualms hunting animals for food, I, on the other hand, feel guilty killing a spider.

I know it’s irrational, but I think mousetraps are inhumane. I brake for squirrels.

That being said, I really feel someone should take out Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Alvin and the rest of his chipmunk friends.

Why the change of heart, you may ask?

The day after Thanksgiving, I broke out my Christmas CD. The kids enjoyed singing along with the holiday tunes on their way to school.

Now Christmas is ancient history. Yes, it might feel Christmas-y now that there’s snow on the ground, but that’s no excuse for my kids to continue to crave these holiday tunes. Every time I get in the car, they giggle like crazy because they’ve just inserted that CD (which I thought I hid rather well in the glove box) and have it playing full blast.

I have tolerated this long enough. If I have to hear about Rudolph’s shiny nose or the chipmunk’s lack of two front teeth one more time, I might just go insane.

Today, after I dropped the kids off at school, I took the CD out of the car’s stereo, brought it into the office and hid it in the back of my messiest drawer, next to three-year-old press releases and all that diet food I never got around to actually eating.

So long, Rudolph and Alvin... until next year, that is.

There are many things I love about living in Mount Shasta. It’s beautiful, safe, uncrowded, and the people are (sometimes crazy) amazing. I truly wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

That being said, there are also a few things that aren’t so cool about living in a small town.

1.) If you tick someone off, you will always, without fail, run into them at an inconvenient moment/location. Example: you’ll soon find your kid and theirs are in the same class, on the same soccer team or in the same gymnastics class, making for an awkward Halloween party/game/performance. This is the #1 reason why I avoid confrontation at all costs and try my best not to make enemies.

2.) If you choose to go to a drinking establishment and happen to do something embarrassing, such as fall off a barstool, pee your pants,  sing terrible karaoke, or suddenly decide it would be funny to stuff an entire breadstick in your mouth before throwing up all over the floor, your mom/boss will hear about it before you’re sober enough to remember doing it. DISCLAIMER: I am not admitting to doing any of these things. And if I did, it was at least 10 years ago.

3.) It’s impossible to find  women’s underwear for purchase (unless it’s used.)

4.) There is no such thing as a “quick” trip to the grocery store. Now, don’t get me wrong. On good days, I enjoy running into acquaintances in the aisle, saying a quick hello and perhaps engaging in a short chat. The imperative word: SHORT. Because it always happens that if you have a long conversation while standing in the produce section, everyone hears your business. You also make it difficult for other shoppers to reach the carrots, and, most importantly, you’ll have to see them IN EACH AISLE YOU VISIT THEREAFTER. Meaning an awkward, “hi again!” or some equally dorky greeting when you both stop for bread, spaghetti sauce, tuna, diapers, ice cream and chicken. You’ll also probably end up behind them in the checkout line, and by this time, you’ve definitely run out of things to talk about.

Also, review reason #1 above. The grocery store is a prime place where you’ll run into that one person you’d most like to avoid. When this inevitably happens, it will always be on the day you look like you’ve just ridden a horse through a windstorm after dusting your living room with the sweatshirt you’re wearing. There may or may not be baby vomit on it, and you will probably have stool softener sitting in a prominent and highly visible place in your shopping cart.

So... what are some of your least favorite things about living in a small town?

Although I know we desperately need the snow, I have to admit I was enjoying the mild winter weather we had for so long.

These are the things I dislike about snow:

• Having to drive in it. I slide off the road/get stuck often, which is: A.) Dangerous B.) Embarrassing C.) Inconvenient.

• Having to walk in it. I hate wearing snowboots and dislike getting the bottom of my pantlegs wet and having to endure that all day long. Plus, snowboots do not match whatever it is I’m wearing and changing shoes at the office is a pain.

• Having the electricity go out unexpectedly. When this happens at the office, there’s a collective moan from everyone who forgets to use the “save” command frequently enough. (Which reminds me to do that now.)

• Having to unbury my car. At home, I usually get away with not having to do much, because both Paul and Caliber love to shovel snow. (A weird trait in a seven year old, but it’s true. Cal’s a shoveling fool.) But after a day at work, it sucks to go outside only to find that your car resembles a mushroom and you have forgotten the scraper thing in the garage.

These are the things I HATE about snow:

• Putting on snowsuits. I detest helping my children get dressed for outdoor play. I despise digging around for matching gloves. I am unable to bear tugging on boots and tucking in socks and shoving mittens into sleeves, only to have to reverse the process a mere 20 minutes later with whiny children and soggy clothing that smells like wet dog.

• Perhaps even more than helping kids dress in snowclothes, my ultimate pet peeve is stepping in a puddle of melted snow in my socks. Because our floors are tile, this happens ALL THE TIME when snow’s on the ground, and it makes me want to kill someone.

Last night, I stepped in several puddles of melted snow. I had to change my socks twice and it put me in a BAD MOOD. Things were made a little better, however, because I once again got out of making dinner for my family. Instead, we called Kevin at Say Cheese and had a delicious dinner delivered.

Hooray for Kevin!

If you’ve read my last three blog posts, you already have a good idea how my mornings go. A few variations: this morning, no one threw an apple in my toilet. Violet got dressed on her own, and her outfit was (somewhat) matching. Gage brushed his teeth after only having to be told once, and upon inspection, he did an alright job the first time. Caliber gallantly shoveled the front porch for me. I cursed when I spilled my Monster drink on my seat and got the butt of my jeans all wet. (I’m pretending it’s just snow now that I’m at the office.)

Things that were the same: Gage rolled his eyes at my slow rate of speed on the way to school. He also still insisted I turn the radio ALL THE WAY down before he opens his door when I drop him off at Sisson. My kids once again played “shoot all other vehicles and pedestrians with our invisible automatic weapons” which kept them relatively quiet and happy on the snowy drive.

11:37 p.m. – Because I’m positive today’s Thursday, and I know the Weed Rotary meets today, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes to get to Dos Amigos.

11:45 – Just kidding! Paul Palfini will be covering the meeting, so I don’t have to brave Interstate 5 in this weather. Instead, I drive around Mount Shasta and take some snow photos.

3:01 p.m. – There is at least a foot, probably more like a foot and a half of snow in the Herald’s parking lot. However, it looks like the snow’s tapering off a little, and the light is beginning to fade.

3:35 – The entire office just got done playing musical cars. Because the snowplow was working, we all had to move our vehicles to the other side of the parking lot. Of course, I got stuck, and Steve had to come out and shovel the snow from beneath my front tires.

Like I said, these types of things always happen to me.

3:37 p.m.  For reasons that are probably boring to everyone else, this afternoon I’m in a REALLY CRANKY MOOD.

Instead of complaining about it on my blog, and letting my less than fantastic mood rub off on you... I think I’ll just finish now and hope for a sunnier disposition tomorrow :)