Tuesday, April 9, 2013


Today I was driving in construction traffic on Harbor Blvd.  I was watching signs and made my lane choice appropriately.  The SUV next to me did not and they snaked a spot inches from my front bumper.  All I did was drop my jaw.  That's it . . . just the jaw drop.

When did I forget how to honk my horn.  The person behind the wheel was probably my age.  Can't blame that on being too young or too old.  Just too stupid.

This Roderick will not be driving on Harbor Blvd. any time soon and the next time I do I will remember my horn.


Addison just walked in and said that she and her friend Michael were going to have lunch at the Avocado Cafe, a local hot spot in HB.  She seemed a little put out and I asked what was wrong.  She informs me that she really doesn't like avocados and doesn't really want them for lunch.  Hmm.

Addison, honey, they serve more than avocados at this particular eatery.

Such a Roderick.

Sunday, April 7, 2013


Nathan came over to help me move some furniture and hang some art.  He's just that kind of guy.

He started drilling the holes in my wall.  No big deal.  You have to drill holes to hang stuff on walls.  He kept drilling and drilling.  His stud finder said the stud was there but the drill was making no progress.  It even started smoking.  What the heck?

Oh, Nate, you have to drill forward not in reverse.

Nathan is now an honorary Roderick.


Last week, after begging Hope for days to take the cans to the recycler, I would just do it myself.  WOW!

First, I couldn't find a parking space.  And then I had to haul all the cans over to the buckets and sort them.  Then I had to wait (it felt like hours) for the tabulation of said recyclables.  Following this, I had to sign some sort of state regulatory petition.  I then had to move my car to the front of the store, go into said store and cash out the voucher.  Whew!  All for $13.00.

New York City is going to be pretty frugal in November.


Yesterday Scott and I were driving to the church and I glanced over at the baseball field near the parking lot.  I saw a dog laying in the grass all stretched out and enjoying the day.  I did not, however, see an owner with him.  I searched the area and didn't see anyone around.

Perhaps that was because the dog was a road safety cone that had been dulled by exposure mimicking the color of a sweet labrador.

I have got to get my eyes checked.


Our canines were not the smartest dogs born in the litter.  Yes.  We love them, but intelligence is not their forte'.

Scott had set some sweet potatoes on the back patio with the intent of planting them the next day.  He's into growing fresh veggies.  The taters were just sitting there.  Nothing more.

Well, Diesel and Dakota stood at the slider barking and barking that evening and we could not figure out what was bugging them.  Could have been a squirrel or maybe a bird or their nemesis next door.  The dreaded spaniels.

Scott finally went over and opened the door and they shot out of the house into the dark backyard.  They stood by the potatoes, still barking, cautiously assessing the dreaded tubers.  Finally, the crisis was contained and they returned to the house.  They had determined the situation safe from the alien blobs.

Our dogs should be renamed to Dumb and Dumber.


Kelsey was about 2 years old when she discovered turkeys.  Live turkeys, not the ones we consume on Thanksgiving.

My uncle has a farm in southern Illinois and part of his livestock has been turkeys.  Keep in mind that turkeys are surly birds and can be irritated very easily.  My grandfather loved to tease those turkeys and observe the colorful results.  They puff up their feathers, their gobbles turn a vivid red and they flap their wings to no avail.  Turkeys are not birds of flight, however, they are pretty good at chasing you.

Kelsey watched Grandaddy Great in the pen with those birds and she was mesmerized.  She couldn't get enough . . . as long as she was on the safe side of the fence.  She wanted no part of being near the hen house and the pasture where the turkeys resided.  And I have to admit it was quite a show that Grandaddy performed for us all.

Needless to say we returned to our home in Salt Lake City with stories to tell.  Kelsey was pretty verbal and she chatted about those turkeys a lot . . . and how they were fighters and that she did not like those birds.

Striving for perfection in my parenting skills, I have been known to error in some of my techniques.  I do what I have to do to make my life a little easier.

So as the story goes, I would ask Kelsey to do something and should she hesitate I would casually  mention that there might be a turkey around and that he might be a little angry.  Yep.  It got immediate results and my request got an immediate positive response.  I used this tactic for awhile until the guilt caught up with me and I changed my evil ways.  It was fun while it lasted.   I wish I would have taken a picture of her cautiously searching for those birds.  Hey.  Don't judge me.  I was exhausted, pregnant with #2 and I did what I did to get through the day.

This may explain why Roderick's have so many issues.  Blame it on their mother.