One game away from the Super Bowl....

SF 36-NO 32

...next Sunday, the 49ers play the Giants at Candlestick, for the NFC Championship and a trip to the Super Bowl for the first time since 1994.  Yeah, we've been that bad for that long...
Actually, the last time the Niners were in the Playoffs was 2002, but pfffttt...nothin' happened.  This year...THIS YEAR....

(Incidentally, it WAS fun to watch the sports commentators stumble around and grudgingly admit the Niners accidentally really won the game this weekend.  But honestly, they still aren't really giving them a whole lot of credit or chance next weekend! I'm pretty sure the 49ers could win 10 Super Bowls, back-to-back, and they'd still be pulling for Green Bay...or...and this makes me NUTS....the Steelers.)

************NE 45-DEN 10**********

Let's not forget that score, TOASTBA...
:)

It all started with Joe...

 ...Montana.
It wasn't a team logo/mascot, like a Cowboy or a Colt.
It wasn't because my Dad liked the team, or my brother or anyone I knew at the time.
It wasn't because they had the best record of wins vs losses, although I certainly got in on the golden years of the 49ers, thank goodness.
It wasn't because they were close, geographically speaking.

It was the quarterback with MONTANA emblazoned across the back of his jersey. 
I love the 49ers because of Joe Montana.

Heck, I loved Joe Montana, himself!  Who wouldn't?  (Here's your door, TOASTBA...)
He was classy, intense, smart, fun to watch because he was so good at what he did, and let's not forget that dimple on his chin underneath a smile that took away the need for flash photography. 
It was great to be from Montana and for Montana. 

I think it was the second year we were married, Wayland surprised me with a #16 MONTANA jersey for Christmas!  How cool is that?! I've worn the poor thing almost out, trying to summon luck for my beloved 49ers every year.  This year, it may have worked.  The Niners are in the playoffs! 

I've been wearing my Joe all week.  ALL week.  Take it off when I go to town or go for a run, but around here, it's the Joe.  I'm wearing it as I type this.

Today is the big game against the Saints at home in San Francisco, and the Saints are heavily favored to the point of polite condescension from all the ESPN and FOX sportscasters about the Niners.

They're nicely talking about our D, grudgingly admitting they're a force, but still betting for the Saints. They can only speak of Drew Brees, Mr. QB of the Year. They already have the Saints breezing through this game to play Green Bay next weekend.

There's no indication, however, that God will favor the Saints this year, even with their heavenly association by team name, because everyone knows the Broncos have that corner on the market with Tebow. (Eyes rolling, here, but grinning.)

I'm hoping the Niners make Terry Bradshaw and Howie Long choke on their peanut M&Ms today and retract all the Saint-ly predictions they've been making.

Hey, it could happen!

The 49ers have a yell that they've been doing this season; it was started by their new coach, Jim Harbaugh, after they won their third game of the season.  He yells, "WHO'S got it better than us?!?!"  and the players holler back, "NO-BODY!!!"  It's been implemented in this house, too.  I'll be doing dishes or something equally ordinary and think to yell, "WHO'S got it better than us?!!?" and little voices from around the house will holler back, "NO-BODY!"  

That's right.

NOBODY'S got it better than us!

Go Niners!

(The Broncos are playing the Patriots tonight, too. Looking forward to the TOASTBA comments after THAT game.  Last week, I called the Broncos to win by 14, against all the intelligent, realistic, logical reasons not to.  Their own fans were betting against them. They only won by 7, but still...

This weekend, I've gotta say I think they'll lose by the same margin.  Sorry!  I'm not feeling the love...or the hope, frankly.  We'll see.) 

Get Down(ton) With It

True Confession #394: I watch Masterpiece Theatre...for fun!

I know.  That doesn't really seem like much of a shocking revelation, but the fact that I watch anything at ALL besides football and the occasional 10 minutes of the evening news is sort of a big deal.  I didn't realize exactly how "out of it" I was, where popular television is concerned, until I was at Bookclub last month.  The topic turned to what everyone was TiVo-ing, and I found myself with nothing to add. NOTHING.  I didn't know the sitcoms, I didn't know the dramas, I didn't know any of the actors, I didn't know what night anything came on and it certainly never crossed my mind to tape or TiVo anything in the past 10 years.  Maybe longer. 

THEN it occurred to me that I DO watch Masterpiece Theatre, when there isn't football on, and Downton Abbey is nearly to start!  The thrills!

Too bad no one else in my world watches it...
Except Alice.

My friend Alice is into British culture like I'm into French.
I look at pictures of her and smell tea and scones.  She can wear delicate little cardigans, rock the Wellies, carry an umbrella with nonchalance, reads Wilkie Collins, is neat and trim, and I always sort of expect her writing to start out, "I say, miss; it's a fine day for a stroll, is it not? Shall we market together, thusly?"  (I'm teasing her a little, here, but you get the idea.)

Alice is OBSESSED with Downton Abbey.  She follows it like I follow the 49ers, sending me shocking little preview videos, profiles of the actors, reviews of the new series.  And, I'm embarrassed to say, I have been completely sucked in and am waiting, waiting, waiting for the first episode of Season 2! 

Last year, the first season, found me wearing pajamas and a sweatshirt in my living room chair which had been drug over to the computer desk (because I have to watch it with headphones so as not to disturb anyone else who might be trying to watch Survivor Man or Top Shots), with a glass of wine, gasping at the twists and turns of the plot, coaching Mr. Bates and Anna to give in to their OBVIOUS attraction and just go ahead and clasp hands or something tender!  Lady Mary is, at first appearance, cold and manipulative, but really I believe she's under a lot of pressure and misunderstood. (Alice and I disagree on this point, but I hold firm.)  The lady's maid only knows half the story (while I, of course, know the WHOLE story and am trying to convey it, in vain, through the computer screen and hand gestures) and does something unforgiveable to....well, I've said too much already.  And then World War I starts and we're left for 11 months to ponder the fate of dear Matthew, miss the Countess of Grantham with her sharp, dry wit, and agonize over the question of whether Mr. Bates and Anna will succumb to what we all know is life together, happily ever after. *sigh*  It's all so wonderfully, awfully well-done and classy, so addictive....

Downton Abbey, Season 2, is going to begin airing this Sunday on PBS.  You can watch episodes of Season 1 on the computer; they stream it through the Masterpiece website.  If you want to catch up, then join us in our funny little British world every week for about 7 Sundays/Mondays, please don't wait a minute to start!  Alice watches on Sunday evenings, I watch on Mondays (due to football post-season still being on, and let's not forget the Super Bowl where you'll all find out that the 49ers are really and truly THE best team in the NFL...not the GB Packers, as assumed by 98% of the world right now, save 1 delusional Broncos nut who signs his correspondence TOASTBA).  We cluck and fuss and discuss on the Tuesday following.  (I love that Alice has to wait a whole day, sitting on her hands to keep from typing and spilling the beans!)

You see?
It really IS quite the confession!

It's only make-believe...

A high school classmate of mine contacted me this fall, after watching my TTU Red Raiders remarks on Facebook, wondering if I wanted to play fantasy football, seeing as how I seemed to sort of like the game and followed teams pretty closely. 

"I don't know....how does it work? I'm not very good with games."

He explained the concept and told me how to sign up.

I figured it could be another long winter and besides, the league he was putting together had old classmates of mine that I hadn't been in contact with for 20 years.  It could be interesting.  What the heck...okay, I'll sign up.

And a monster was born.


For those of you who don't know about fantasy football, it's basically where each "manager" (person who joins the league) drafts players from all over the NFL for different positions.  So you could have a 49ers quarterback, a Cowboys running back, a Broncos wide reciever and so on.  They're real players in the NFL, but you pick them for your pretend team.  There are a couple tricky things, here, though.  If someone else in your group has already picked them, you can't.  You can pick someone else and try to trade for that player, but that's not usually going to happen if they're amazing players. 

The DRAFT is an evil, tense process.  It's a timed deal, a certain amount of time on a specific day in a specific order. I signed up for the league about 4 days before our draft occured, so that means everyone else had been doing research on players all summer but I'd only been reading up on them for a couple days.  You have to know about ALL the darned players for ALL the positions because most of the time you won't get your first, second or even fifth choice....you've got to be ready to pick from what's left, if you're not high on the draft, which I wasn't.  I had lists, highlighted and notated, starred and :(  -ed,  read ESPN like the daily news, asked friends...it was ugly. 

My draft was ugly.  I really did end up with a lot of second-string players, sleepers, a couple young-and-shaky-prospect quarterbacks, 49ers that no one wanted (but now are DYING to have).  I was upset...the whole thing had taken place in 16 minutes, players like Aaron Rodgers flying off the shelf like Tickle-Me-Elmo dolls at a Black Friday sale, and you all know what kind of shopper I am!  And I'm shopping for football players, now! Sheesh...

My team was named Hail Mary, completely appropriate because a Hail Mary pass in football is a long shot, desperate attempt, throw into the wild blue and hope for a miracle sort of thing.  It was the longest of shots, this fraggledy little team. 

I had the 49ers defensive line, because no one wanted them. 
I had quarterback Matthew Stafford, maligned and distrusted because he has spent most of the last 2 years on the bench with injuries.
I was running back heavy, (literally) with Darren Sproles, Michael Bush, Reggie Bush, Kendall Hunter, Ricky Williams...they were all that were left!
I had nothin' for wide recievers, and fought that position to the end.
My tight ends were Vernon Davis, the only superstar at the time on my team, and Antonio Gates, highly recommended but shaky future. 
My kicker was from the Atlanta Falcons and pretty unimpressive on the stats, but again, no one wanted him so I took him in desperation. 

The way the machine works, then, is that your fantasy players get points based on the number of yards made on a play, completed passes, making a touchdown, stopping a play from the other team and so forth.  It's based on their real life performance, so fantasy football owners end up needing three televisions and two computers to watch all their players around the country, if they are that competitive and obsessed. 

Turns out, I AM that competitive and obsessed.
I know.
That comes as a total shock to no one.

Seventeen weeks of weeping, wailing, celebratory dances, standing up and yelling, gasping, stomping, couch-coaching.
Seventeen weeks of roster shifting, nail biting, head banging on the desk in front of the computer, arm pumps, lucky jerseys, sneaking peeks at scores during family/friendly gatherings.
Seventeen weeks of back and forth banter with my classmates who, as it turns out, are as competitive and obsessed as I am.
I lived and died by the projected points.
I dropped a couple players and picked up a couple more unknowns. 
Matthew Stafford made like a superhero, as did my running backs.  The 49ers shocked everyone by blowing out of the Bay and winning game after game.  Injuries to superstars caused my second string players to be put in positions of power and they came through, week after week, bless their hearts.
And Hail Mary made the playoffs, #4 out of 16 teams.

Two weeks of playoffs and we were in the championship game, the league Superbowl! 
That was yesterday and the entire world shut down while I watched with sweaty palms, game after game, stats bouncing all over the place.

Hail Mary WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And handily, 254 points against 157 points!

It was at a cost, though.
My kids walk around flinching, intermittantly hollering "Go Sproles!" and "Who's got it better than us? NOBODY!".  My husband has endured the endless updates and now when I open my mouth, he says (before I utter a word) "Oh, good.  Way-to-go."  My FB friends-if-they-still-claim-me are thinking of either joining a fantasy football league to see what the obsession is all about, or blocking me. 

The fantasy football season is over.
I won. I got a call from the commissioner, congratulating me.
I'd be all empty and let down about the end, except that the 49ers are in real life playoffs for the first time in I can't tell you how long, and I'm wearing my old Joe Montana jersey around, hoping against all hope that THIS will be their year!

I'll keep you posted...
:)

Oh! in an interesting side note:  My friend (who shall remain unnamed here) that talked me into this mess, gently taunted me when his team played mine that I'd better put on my big girl panties for that weekend, because I was going down.  I challenged him to a bet in which the big girl panties would be worn and photographed by the loser, for all the world to see.  I won.  This is my blog and I want the record of that win posted here for all time and eternity.  This is what fantasy football will do to seemingly normal, logical people:

It was a sweet moment. I was hoping for white, but this is pretty good, too...

Bookclub at Anne's

*I was going to leave this part out, but it's an illustration of football craziness and if I DON'T include it, I'm sure "someone" will put a sticky note on the fridge door about it. 

So...
Did anyone catch the Detroit Lions-San Francisco 49ers game?
HUGE...it was a HUGE game, because the Lions were undefeated and the 49ers are looking strong for the first time in 10 years. (Okay, maybe 15 years...a long stinkin' time, I can tell you that.) I was barely able to focus on making my bookclub food for watching it.  Part of the reason was that my fantasy football quarterback is the Lion's quarterback and the 49ers defensive line is my FF line...blah, blah, blah.  It was a big deal.  For me.  I forget that it's not a big deal for probably 99% of the rest of the county's population.  And it was a CLOSE game!!

I made myself leave the house on time, even though it was the 4th quarter and SF was only leading by 1 point.  Drove like the wind blows to the appointed meeting place, Cohagen School, and frantically tried to get the SF 49ers Live on my Droid phone...nothin'.  Ran into the school like a crazy woman, looking for a computer which Joni thoughtfully turned on after viewing the panic in my eyes...(she stepped aside, reminding me that it was STILL baseball season, you know)  I found the GameTracker, tried to politely mmm-hmm in conversation, explaining to Aaron Carroll what my obsession was with TTU, sweating palms....and the 49ers made a touchdown! YES!  Two minutes left in the game and we had to leave.  WHAT? Traci reassured me that she had the game on XM radio in the car....that was the only reason I got in the car.

I'm listening to the game, the other ladies are chatting about...kids? cows? school?....I don't know.  There was a timeout with a minute left, Detroit's possession, and Traci asked, "What's the score?"  I replied that it was 25-19 with a minute left, and she shut it off.  Didn't turn it down, mind you...turned it OFF.  OFF!!!!  I tried to be cool.  It was, after all, a timeout.  But seconds ticked by and she didn't turn it on.  In fact, she started a new story and away we sped toward Jordan, like the biggest game of the season, Super Bowl not withstanding, wasn't in the final moments.  I carefully removed my fingernails from the back of the seat, thinking perhaps she'd just switched it to the back controls...ah,no, she had not.  In a panicky voice I asked, "Did you turn the game off, Traci?"  Um...yeah.  She thought it was over.  (She really wasn't messing with me...she SAYS...but truly thought it was done.)  I got to hear the last 30 seconds, which in football time is like 10 minutes, to hear the beautiful pronouncement that the 49ers had beaten the Lions. 

I didn't scream, but I wanted to.
I didn't pull out the Joe Montana jersey I had stuffed down in the bottom of my camera bag, waved it and then pulled it on to wear into the grocery store, but I wanted to.
I didn't leave big messages all over Facebook, but I wanted to.

(Here's a picture of Michael Crabtree, former TTU Red Raider, making a catch in the game...photo from SF Chronicle.)

It was GLORIOUS, I tell you!!!!

Now....
Back to our real story....

Our little bookclub met yesterday afternoon for appetizers and dessert, and to discuss this month's selection Sarah's Key, by Tatiana de Rosnay.

First, about the book:

It's a little complicated to try to sum up, so I'll use the publisher's blurb from the back of the book:

Paris, July 1942: Sarah, a ten-year-old girl, is taken with her parents by the French police as they go door to door arresting Jewish families in the middle of the night. Desperate to protect her younger brother, Sarah locks him in a bedroom cupboard—their secret hiding place—and promises to come back for him as soon as they are released.



Sixty Years Later: Sarah’s story intertwines with that of Julia Jarmond, an American journalist investigating the roundup. In her research, Julia stumbles onto a trail of secrets that link her to Sarah, and to questions about her own future.


In Sarah’s Key, Tatiana de Rosnay offers up a mesmerizing story in which a tragic past unfolds, the present is torn apart, and the future is irrevocably altered.

It was hard for me to read, especially at first, because the little boy locked in the bedroom cupboard was Angus's age.  And the ending was a little too....neat.  But the book was thought provoking and it brought attention to the roundup of Jewish families of the Velodrome d'Hiver in France, an incident that many are not familiar with. 

We chewed on the book as we noshed on the crazy spread of food....we just stood there in the kitchen and laid waste to a pile of decadant finger foods.  Isn't that great? We didn't even really need to use utensils!  Here are the photos:

Anne's ceviche....I loved it, but I can tell it's a sort of specific taste (fish cooked in lemon/lime juice, then chilled) and it's not a real crowd favorite.  It tasted so clean and fresh to me...a nice break from the heavy cheese stuff.

I do love all things French....even their cracker boxes!

Isn't Anne elegant? And I love that this photo has all the story hands going on.  We all use our hands with our stories...the better the story, the more the hands fly...

Frou-frou Pelligrino beverages, courtesy Susie Milam...pretty containers for truly yummy drinks.

Can you see this? Maybe I should make the picture a little larger... 

This is a jalepeno popper, hand-made with love by Marisa (who by request will not be pictured in this post).

This is....I'm at a loss for words, here...the best of God's food gifts to man.

I wish I had thought to put a little jelly on mine, because then I believe I would've experienced appetizer nirvana.

(And for those who assume that bacon could be wrapped around any old thing and I'd fall in love, you may be right.  But this is really spectacular.  Like the bacon wrapped dates, from Boulder.)

I'm not going to try to point every good and perfect thing out on this spread....suffice it to say, we weren't lacking in anything, especially in the cheese department. (Happy Cheese-mas, by the way!  A post all of its own...)

We finally resorted to plates...

Our next selection is One Thousand Gifts and we'll meet at Traci's!

Thanks, Anne, for a really wonderful afternoon...

Foosball

Did any of you watch the movie Waterboy, with Adam Sandler and Kathy Bates?  (Yes. I adore cornball movies.  Wanna make something of it?)  Kathy Bates is Mama Boucher (pronounced Boo-SHAY) and she doesn't want her baby playin' "foosball" (football) because it's of the devil...

She might be right.
It's pretty addictive....like pretzels dipped in Nutella. 

The Farmer had to sit on the ambulance crew last night at the last home football game of the year, and I decided to take the kids, since we hadn't had a good, cold community event in just ages.  The last time I took them, Maggie was 3 and she wanted to play, too.  We spent most of our time on the sidelines, tackling her.  And then Rowena Fitzgerald (I love that girl) took pity on us and hauled her off with the big girls, so we could THEN deal with Angus who at age 1 was not impressed with any part of this football experience.  Let's just say it wasn't a really fun evening, back then.

A couple years can really make a difference!

It was a gorgeous fall evening...crisp, but no wind to speak of....and it was Senior Night (not to be confused with Senior Citizen's Night), so there were a lot of folks there that might not've come out, otherwise.  You all know I love football on TV, but there's really nothing like high school football in your hometown.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was NOT still 18 years old, because along the sidelines and in the stands were basically the same people that were there 20-some years ago....wearing, I think, the same black'n'orange booster club jackets.  There were teenagers squirrelling around in the stands and working the concession booth, as cool as they could muster.  Mobs of little and big kids, playing little mock football games in the grass beside the field....they were pretty tough! Neighbors visited, occasionally cheering mid-sentence, then returning to the story. 

I remembered that I had my camera in the car, so I hauled it out, but I felt a wee bit conspicuous since I wasn't a regular attendee and didn't have a kid playing.  Most of the pictures are a bit blurry, because I didn't take the time to re-set the exposure and fine tune it to the situation!  The whole evening I was framing images up in my head, though...seeing the world as through a viewfinder, always. 

The official enrollment in the high school is 57, total.  When you think that only about 20 of those kids are male and there are 14 of those 20 on the football team, it's pretty remarkable, really.  I love it when all these young men line up in their uniforms, waiting for the national anthem.

Refs....the heroic and hated, often times. 

Not last night! 

Six man football is FAST. 

College football moves right along, but six man high school football is lightening speed....go get a hotdog and you miss three possessions! Not three downs...three possessions.

It's wild.

The "chain gang" in Jordan are guys I went to high school with who now have kids playing! This particular pic is of #10's dad; he never misses a chance to give me a hard time, so I retaliate with an image on the Chronicles.  We're even.  :)

This is how I think it must seem, sometimes, in the middle of the action....

#10....our favorite player.

One of Maggie's Bow-eez.

He's SO strong....

(His family babysat for us, one afternoon, and as he was lifting Maggie on the 4 wheeler or something, she looked at him with deep admiration and said, "Oh, --------, you're SO strong!")

(Ever since then, the kid sorta disappears when he sees us coming up the drive...)

It was a rough night for the Mustangs.

Although they put the first score up, they were trounced pretty hard.

I won't put the score up, here, but let's just say it was a decisive victory for the Richey-Lambert Fusions.

(Yeah. I don't know what to call them, either....)

TODAY is college foosball!

Lucky shirt and mug....

Lucky nail polish....

It didn't work so well last weekend, and I can't figure out what I neglected to do!

Hmmmm....

Anyway, it's a Guns Up sort of day!

Bring on the foosball!!!

It's not crazy, it's football!

College football fans are perhaps the most superstitious, zealous people you'll ever encounter.  Trust me.
You may have seen Green Bay Packer Cheeseheads and thought, "Whoa.  Those dudes are over the top!"  but they ain't nothin' compared to college football fans. 

College football can take the ordinarily level-headed, conservative, laid-back person and turn him into....well....a very strange person who only wears red and black socks, inside out, unwashed for six games, stepping only on every third tile of their kitchen during commercials.  This is because six games ago, his team won big and unexpectedly while this piece of wardrobe was on his body. 

College football fans can remember incredible details during a season. The brand of potato chips and how many were in their hand when their team lost (Not buying BBQ Lays for the rest of the season), the exact outfit, right down to underwear and nail polish (if it applies),  the mug they were drinking coffee from THAT morning, and the list goes on and on. 

Here's the funny thing:  when asked directly whether they think their little rituals actually affect the outcome of the game, they'll appropriately tell you, "Nah...that's crazy!  It's the coach/players/weather conditions/etc."  but in their hearts and heads, they KNOW that if they screw up the lucky sock and mug combo that day, that the team doesn't have a chance, no matter how well they play. 

I am one of those....logically, I know that a woman in Montana who wears all the "right" clothes and flies the lucky flag and uses the lucky mug will NOT cause the Red Raiders to win the game.  I said, logically.  However, I can't help doing all those things, just-in-case-I-have-super-powers-that-even-I-don't-know-about to help them win.  The handy thing is that I'm already considered crazy, so this is just overlooked in my house.  Crazy is as crazy does, you know...

It gets WAY worse, though, in some people.  Some fans actually schedule weddings and birth inductions around games, so they won't miss a thing!  Painting a room in lucky colors, mowing the college logo into their lawn, naming their dog "Gator"....all these things.  Don't take this as a prejudiced statement, it's just an observation, but I think college football fans are crazier in the south.  Of course, this may be due to the fact that anyone who paints their chest in school colors in Montana will freeze into a solid block of ice in September, much less November! 

Today, TTU is playing University of New Mexico, there.  And yes, we're wearing the red and black, observing all the lucky rites, wishing we didn't have to preg test at the EXACT time of the game.  (That's going to really throw the luck factor off.  If they win, will we have to preg test EVERY away game? Tricky.)

Guns up!

The Ten Commandments of College Football

From Southern Living Magazine September 2011 Issue

1. Thou shalt wear team colors. But think twice before adorning yourself with body paint—you don’t want to be the Internet photo that goes viral.


2. Thou shalt know—and sing—your team’s fight song from beginning to end. Sure, you can “watermelon watermelon” your way through the alma mater, but not memorizing the fight song is a fan failure.


3. Thou shalt keep your language clean (unless, of course, the quarterback fumbles on fourth and goal).


4. Thou shalt support the coach. Even when his calls are questionable.


5. Thou shalt be respectful to visiting teams. Remember: Southern ladies and gentlemen never boo.


6. Thou shalt set up a tailgate no fewer than three hours before kickoff (six if it’s a night game). Table linens and matching huggers encouraged, but not required.


7. Thou shalt theme your tailgate food around the visiting rival. Gator bites, anyone?


8. Thou shalt stay through the fourth quarter—rain or shine. That’s what ponchos are for, y’all.


9. Thou shalt respect the solemnity of Game Day by planning weddings, births, and other life events around the football schedule.


10. Thou shalt not covet other teams’ bowl games, national championships, or Heisman Trophy wins. There’s always next year.

Tomorrow, we discuss the paranoid mindset of the college football fan, in which they are responsible for the absolute victory or failure of their team.


This post is done in TTU Red Raiders colors, even though it is admittedly hard to read....(see above note on tomorrow's forthcoming post)

Guns Up!

College football is back, and we are happy!!!

Okay, I am happy and the others are merely mildly tolerant...

by the end of the season, the kids are more into the games and Angus love to holler "Go Red Raiders!"

And EVERY football team wearing red...49ers, Cardinals...every one of 'em is Our Red Raiders, according to him.

"There's Our Red Raiders, Mom!"

"No, baby...those are the 49ers, playing like third graders in a midnight flag football game with no headlamps.  Cheer anyway!"

Maggie is wearing a shirt that my friend Elise (who is a Hawkeye fan) found in a thrift store and delivered to us.  She asked if we had taken one there, thinking she was maybe buying it back for us, but I told her that we never get rid of TTU gear.  She thought as much, since her family never disposes of Hawkeye gear, either.  That COULD be the lucky shirt, you know...

Besides watching Texas Tech, I also keep up with the Gators because of Patricia, the Hawkeyes because of Elise, the dreaded-and-greatly-despise-ed Longhorns because of Traci (that's true friendship, there), TCU because of Gus Glasscock, and the MSU Bobcats because that's what Eastern Montana ag people do; since all their neighbors and the kids they babysat and their cousins and their dogs went there or are currently attending. I try not to pay any attention to Notre Dame, even though it's my brother-in-law's big team, but they occasionally make the radar.

So, now you know what I'll be doing with my Saturday afternoons/evenings from now until sometime after Thanksgiving....

By the way, (and I'm being very restrained, in holding back this information until the very end of the post when it should've been the headline)  TTU won their first game, at home, against Texas State...50-10!  We may have already found the lucky shirt/nail polish combo for the season....here's hoping!

Melange

Melange (pronounced m-lazh) is a French word that basically means "all sorts of different things altogether".  Sort of like a junk drawer of ideas when you find it at the Chronicles....lots of little thoughts that can't stand alone as a post, but that I want to share with you.

First, the depressing news about my garden. (Let's just get the bad stuff over with, shall we?)
We have had grasshoppers in plague levels. 

Here's my little tomato/flower/cucumber planters in a "before" picture:

Plant lovers, cover your eyes....it's brutal....

And "after":

 Same bed, one week later....those WERE marigolds in front, remember?

Enough about the hoppers.

On to another depressing topic...

:)

I turn forty this year.

There, I said it.

Whew!

And I had tossed around the idea of running a K race...any K; 5K, 10K, 1K.  It just seemed so...I don't know....standard and typical of someone turning forty.  We can't have that, now, can we?

Anyway, I get this magazine called Runner's World, which is full of people who take their running VERY seriously.  So seriously, in fact, that I can't believe I didn't have to have an interview and an approval before subscribing.  Really.

Yesterday, I was looking through all the races that are being held around the nation and overseas, and found THE race for me.  It's a half-marathon, which is incredibly intimidating (the "m" word...) and I'd have to be able to run it in just under 4 hours, even more intimidating.  I'm slow, folks.  But I think I can get faster for this one.

It's the Diva's Half-Marathon, and there's going to be one in Vail, CO next September.  It's my race.  Listen to the little write-up:

"Runners get the royal treatment-just after mile 12, they recieve a feather boa and tiara; at the finish line, "hunky" firemen hand them a glass of bubbly and a rose."

AND

"It is not just about the run but the whole weekend experience. All our events will host a 2 day Health & Fitness Boutique, a Girls' 5K (open to all ages and genders), a Diva Lounge and more. Some of our races will also host yoga sessions by the beach, Diva Pub Crawls after the race, spa specials, winery visits and more. Each city gives the race its own special flavor for a wonderful weekend with the girls or with family where mom, sister or daughter are stars."

I looked at the website and one can even personalize the running bib!

I think I'd better start working NOW. 

But doesn't that sound like a good first race?

Next topic of discussion:

And this is completely silly, but I've been thinking of it for the last couple of days...

Excluding major appliances (even the Kitchenaid mixer), what 5 tools could you not live without in your kitchen?

It's harder than you think, narrowing it down to 5!

I came up with:

1. My little plastic scraper thingee from Pampered Chef...it scrapes flour off the counter, impossibly stuck food off pans...everything.
2. Wooden spatulas made by one of our hunters.  They are invaluable AND beautiful, made of different woods.
3. That in-between sized knife that is bigger than a paring knife but smaller than a big carving knife. 
4. A really old grater that grates really finely...perfect for lemon zest or cheese or carrots.
5. I don't know if this is a tool, but I have this big kettle that I use for everything...pasta, meats, soups, candy.  There's nothing it doesn't work for.  AND it has a clear glass lid, so I can see what's going on all the time without removing it!

What's on your list?

One more thing: fantasy football. 

I have a draft tomorrow and I have no idea what to do.  One of my high school classmates put together a league, just for fun and so that we could all reconnect, and I let myself be talked into joining.  It's not like I don't get deeply engrossed in the season, anyway...become fiercely competetive over events I have no control over.....re-play games in my head as I drive....wear the same "lucky" shirt every Sunday for 20 weeks.  Now I have a new reason to watch! And my team's name is Hail Mary, which is appropriate on so many levels...

But I'm absolutely lost as to how to do this draft thing.

Any help at all would be greatly appreciated.

I have my list of players, and perhaps I'm a little too ambitious for the first time out.  See what you think of my first round picks, made a week ago and now may have to be revised:

QB- Michael Vick (He's everyone's 1st round draft pick, I'm guessing; so predictable.)

WR- Terrell Owens (I wanted Crabtree, but his health is iffy...darn it!)

RB- Frank Gore (And I KNOW he's a 49er and they're miserable this year...again....still...but I like the guy.)

TE- Vernon Davis (Although, maybe I should look at Marcedes Lewis....input?)

I don't even know how many rounds I need to prepare for!

Blessedly, I'll end the melange there.

Happy Saturday!

Between the lines...

Aunt Rosie sent me a Red Raider hat around Christmas time and Angus had SERIOUS Guns Up envy.  To the point I had to hide the cap in my running shoes to be able to keep it. 

A couple weeks later, another package showed up in the mail with two more Red Raider hats!

We love them!  So, for Rosie, here we are in our Guns Up hats (as Angus calls them). 

(Had to take it with the tri-pod and timer, so it's a little...off.)

I guess you all know that the Red Raiders won their Ticket City Bowl game, 45-38, against Northwestern.

MNF

Tonight, my NFL team, the San Francisco 49ers, have the opportunity to show the world what they can do...

That would be: lose another game on national television. 

And I predict, they'll do that very well.

I can't get the actual game on the computer, but I'll be agonizing over it on the crummy little GameTracker thingamabob that shows the plays long after they've happened.  AND I'll try to listen on the SF radio station at the same time, because hometown announcers are the bomb!  They don't feel badly at ALL, for telling the team how rotten they are.  But there's nothing greater than a hometown announcer when a ball is stripped and the fumble is recovered and "HE'S RUNNING TO THE 10, TO THE 5, HE SCORES!!!! HOW WAS THAT FOR A PLAY, FOLKS!!!! (there's a flag on the play...)".  

Monday Night Football used to be for the masses.  Even people who didn't really particularly care for football were aware of it and grudgingly turned over the t.v. that night, in return for control of the chips and dip.  When it was moved to ESPN, the common man without cable t.v. couldn't access it, except the way I do.  (I know.  You're thinking, "Who doesn't have cable???"  I think there are about 200 of us, scattered across the globe.) 

One of my friends bemoans this fact and says that when they look at the downfall of Western Civilization, they'll find this was the turning point.  A bit dramatic, but I'm not completely convinced that isn't true!

Anyway, if you have ESPN, and you want to see some (let's just face it, here) sad football, join me for the game!  Are you a football fan?  Or a football widow/er?  Or are you there for the food?  (Hey!  One of the great things about football fans is that they surround themselves with food, then get so wrapped up in the game that they forget to eat it.  KaCHING!) 

Our Hero, Campguy

*This post is thoroughly and completely saturated with Texas Tech Red Raider-ness.  If you are remotely allergic to scarlett and black, or anything Texan, back away from the computer. Of course, if you ARE that sensitive, you probably quit reading this blog a few months ago.

When we picked up our mail on Friday, amongst the bills and farm papers was a package from our friend, Campguy. (That's his blog name.)

In the package was this really great Texas Tech birdhouse that he'd made for us!

Now, I believe he's a Longhorns fan, but we won't hold that against him. It probably pained him to have to manufacture a Red Raiders birdhouse, and we love him all the more for having gone through that for us.

Here's the family, after a big fight over who got to hold the birdhouse.

Angus won.

Can you see the unvarnished envy in HRH's eyes?

Guns Up!!!

I just love it!

We aren't going to be able to put it out until spring, so it will have an exalted place in the farmhouse until then. Maybe Campguy can come North and help us hang it, in April.

GO RED RAIDERS!

There was another object in the box, and we will be talking about that in a future post. You'll just have to wait, breathlessly, until I get my camera memory card cleared off.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I'm not going to report every moment that happened since last Thursday, even though I know you are poised at the edge of your seat, coffee cup in hand, hoping for each blessed detail of my weekend.  Buy a paper, honey, and get some real news!  (Of course, it may very well BE in the Jordan paper, by this time...) 

In no particular order, here are the five worst things that happened, on the furlough:

• Beth scared the dickens out of us in the motel, the first night, by telling true stories of home invasion and loonies coming to a Walmart near us.  It happened to be the only night we didn't have big, strong, law-enforcement trained men with us.  Yes, we were alone.  And tired, the next morning.
• Texas Tech lost to the Longhorns. EVEN after I hung the banner on gameday in the townhouse, wore Red Raider everything, painted my nails Guns Up Red, and prayed for the team.  It was not a blow-out, but it was sad. 
• The wedding that took place at the resort while we were there had a D.J. hired until 11 p.m. and he was very serious about making sure the entire resort heard the last song, "Another One Bites The Dust". 
• There was no cell service, so I couldn't call and check on my babies.  I felt like I was being held hostage.
• I had a headache from Friday afternoon until today! I think it was the massage, releasing toxins into my body. 

The five BEST things that happened during furlough, in no particular order:

• The afternoon at the spa, getting a manicure, pedicure and massage....it was heaven!  And I'm telling you all right here, right now; if I ever perchance win a 37 million dollar lottery, I'm buying every household of every person I know and love, a professional massage chair.  It's true.  You'd better hope I start buying lottery tickets, now, and that I like/and/or/love you.  Mmmmmhmmm.
• Breakfast buffet on Sunday at Old Piney Dell.  Those two words together, 'breakfast' and 'buffet', pretty much ensure it's going to be a good time.  We had mimosas, and obscene amounts of breakfast food. 
• Grown-up time to visit, without worrying about where the kids were or what they were up to.  They were safe, we were relaxed....it was a lot of fun!
• Finding crazy greeting cards and reading them out loud to each other, when we were downtown Red Lodge....the girls, that is.  You don't actually have to purchase them to enjoy them, and they were everywhere!
• Time with my husband, not worrying about what I should be doing or what he should be doing, or what the kids are doing.  It turns out, I really like that man, still.  He's alright. 

And those were the low and high lights.  Then I came home to a school board meeting, and a full day on Tuesday of preconditioning calves.  The manicure is looking a little chipped, and I think the effects of the massage have worn off, but the memories of the good time are still here!

Oh, For Tech's Sake!

Some of you know that I really, really love football. Some of you know that I really, really, really love the Texas Tech Red Raiders. Some of you know that I also really, really love my friends, Scott and Traci Glasscock who love the Texas Longhorns. Some of you know that three of us friends have a girl's weekend for our birthdays in September, and the husbands join us on Day 2. It's the best weekend of the year, and we all look forward to it and hang on to the promise of it when things are going rough the rest of the year.

I just looked at the Red Raider's football schedule.

Yes, as you can see, my Red Raiders play their Longhorns on Couple's Night of the getaway weekend. When we are supposed to be sitting in Old Piney Dell Restaurant, plowing our way through the best food to be had in the great state of Montana. When we are celebrating Traci's and my birthday. When we laugh and drink outrageous wine and talk about anything but kids and farming.

This is going to be a SERIOUS test of our commitment to friendship, tradition, and sportsmanship.

I just have to say this: Last year, the Red Raiders, in a stunning ESPN-worthy moment, dehorned Texas in a really big, televised game. So the Horns are out for revenge. AND this 2009 game is televised, on ABC.

SO....

Scott Glasscock and I will be sitting there, at the restaurant, trying not to bolt to the nearest television, and making small talk with the others while trying to hurry them along with their steaks and twice baked potatoes. And I realize not everyone is quite as excited about football as I am, so I'm going to work on cultivating some self-control between now and then.

And I also realize the odds of the Red Raiders winning this game are not all that encouraging (Texas is #2 in the pre-season polls), but anything can happen, you know?

Mercy!

Stay tuned, the weekend of September 18-20th, to find out how it ends. (Hopefully, not the friendship...)