How I spent “Power Outage 2011”

Yesterday afternoon there was a giant power outage.  It affected people from Yuma, AZ all the way to San Diego, and as far south as Baja Mexico and as far north as Orange County, CA.  This means there was no electricity.  Also if you had Sprint or AT&T cell phones you had no bars.  However, if you had Verizon, like I did, people were still calling you about work stuff.  You would think the advantage of a blackout would be that you get to leave work early.  I was not so lucky because my work has generator backup and my stupid Verizon phone was working like a charm.

At first, if you took a poll of the office, these were the primary concerns that people had:

1.  The bubbles for my fishtank won’t work!  My fish might die!
2.  Am I still going to be able to watch football this evening?

Later, people realized there were more important concerns, like:

1. My tank is on empty and none of the gas stations can pump gas.
2. How do I get ice and water?
3. What am I going to have for dinner?
4. Where can I find a generator?

Since I happen to live with a bunch of rednecks, ahem I mean boys who are very skilled at construction-type stuff, it turns out that I spent the power outage quite pleasantly.  The boys hooked up the generator and we listened to music while we grilled bacon-wrapped asparagus, potato skins with cheese and onions and cilantro, and bbq chicken wings.  We also had plenty of ice, coolers, water, and beer.

So I spent Power Outage 2011 surfing the internet on my phone, listening to music while sipping on a cold beer, and actually talking to my roommates and friends instead of zoning out on the TV.

Next time, however, we need more beer.  We only had enough to last us the first night.

Mary, Mary

I planted a garden:

And now it looks like:

But it's a race against time.  Winter is coming.  Grow little plants, grow!

EDIT: As I was preparing this post, Google's AdSense kept putting up links for "hydroponic grow tents".  Apparently the key words "grow" + "plants" = 420.  Who knew?

The High Desert Stock Photo

Just north of Los Angeles, if you drive up I-5 or I-14 across the pass, you come to what is known as the "High Desert".  It's also known as the Antelope Valley because there used to be herds of antelope in the valley.  Go figure. 

As much as I heart the beautiful desert of Phoenix, I am not a fan of this "high" desert.  It is not very pretty.  Basically, there is one month in the spring where there are lots of flowers and everyone takes pictures and then the summer hits and it's hot and all the flowers die.  This is where the standard "Joshua Tree in Silhouette" photo comes in.

The fine people of the Antelope Valley need something pretty to represent their desert when all the flowers are dead, and the next best thing is:



So I took my own "Joshua Tree in Silhouette."  You have to have at least one if you've been there!

Backyard FAIL

On the bright side, at least we know the new sprinkler system is working!

San Diego in the Summertime

Chris and I spent the Labor Day weekend in San Diego.  Well, Chris went fishing on Saturday and then I met up with him for the rest of the weekend.

I will start out with one thought:  Big Truck + Southern California = NOT FUN.  Try squeezing *your* 25-foot long F-350 around a U-shaped turn designed for a mini cooper, and see if you agree.  (It only took me about 15 minutes and a 20-point turn, by the wa y)

Chris caught some fishes on  his trip, about 7 of them to be exact.  (We need to start researching recipes for tuna!)  And then, to add a sense of irony to the weekend, we spent Sunday visting Sea World, where sea life is, predictably, not killed by sport fishermen.

We saw Sea Turtles:



Non-Edible Fishes (well, you could eat them but SeaWorld kind of frowns on that in their park):



Sea Lions:



Dolphins:



AND... as a very special treat... a baby dolphin that had just been born the day before. It was less than 24 hours old.



We saw Shamu, penguins, sharks, sting rays, and a lot of other sea life, etc etc.  We got to feed the sting rays and touch the pet-store variety sharks, which was fun.

SeaWorld also has a Clydesdale exhibit, which we were puzzled about for a while (umm, horses do not live in water, last I checked...) until we learned that SeaWorld is owned by Budweiser. Then it all made sense.

While in San Diego we also spent time at the beach, and managed to capture a beautiful sunset:



I could totally live there.  Well, that is, if I had a smaller car.

The Station Fire

In the immortal words of Bad Religion, "Los Angeles is Burning."



Many, many thanks to all the firefighters, pilots, volunteers, and others working to extinguish the flames and keep us safe.

Early Bird I'm Not

I am not a morning person.

This does not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, I'm sure. I just need a little "warm up" time, you know, like your car does on a cold day.

I just want to idle a while, not having to say anything, do anything particularly difficult, listen to anything, or basically, have any human contact for the first twenty minutes or so after I wake up. Is that so much to ask?


My husband persists (despite the fact that he knows better) on trying to talk to me when I first wake up, asking tiresome questions like, "what time is it?" "did you reset the alarm?" and "why don't I have any pillows on my side of the bed?". I think he secretly hopes that if he sets a standard of early-morning conversation, somehow it will make me more of a morning person.

Well, husband, since you're probably reading this, it's not going to work. Ever. Just don't ask me any questions until I've had my coffee, and no one has to get hurt.

Which leads me to my job, and the crappy part about my job. I have to wake up early. And I mean, before-the-sun early. I tell you, there is something very wrong about getting up for work when it's still dark out. Although I should definitely say that I'm thankful for my job. It's just that it would be super fantastic if it started at... say... actual morningtime, instead of a quarter till the butt-crack of dawn.

There is one bonus: sunrise. It's kind of cool to wach the sun break over the horizon. Even better if I've set the timer on coffee machine the night before and get to sip on a warm cup of joe while watching the sun rise and not having to talk to anyone... but, hey, that's just me.

The Finale: Camping Miracles

Next to our campfire, left behind by the previous campers, was a giant log. Someone had obviously dragged it there, with the intentions of burning it, because there was a tie strap still twined around it. They had gone to a lot of trouble to get that giant log next to the campfire, but never ended up burning it.


(can is for scale)

We had a theory. We figured they had been sitting around the campfire late at night (there was almost definitely alcohol involved) and two or more of them had decided that burning a giant log was the thing to do. In their late night fervor and alcohol-muddled reasoning, it seemed like a brilliant idea. They set off, tow rope in hand, to go collect a giant log. Probably by the time they got back two hours later, stumbling along with a giant tree stump dragging behind them, their friends were all asleep/passed out, and the log-draggers lost their enthusiasm and went to bed themselves. The next morning when everyone got up it suddenly did not seem like such a brilliant idea. So the log was left next to the campfire, for us to find.

The boys took one look at it and said: “Lets burn it.”

We were all highly doubtful that the log would actually burn. Especially after the Great Flood of 2009, in which the log was not covered to protect it from the rain.

But since there weren’t going to be any fireworks this Fourth, we decided, “What the heck, let’s go for it.”

The boys were in charge of the log burning, as it was their idea. They were more than happy about this. We decided that we would wait until the night of the Fourth, as sort of a celebratory thing. A bonfire tribute to Lady Liberty and a grand finale for the last night of our camping trip.


(working out the logistics of moving the log)

In yet another camping miracle, the log not only burned, but made a perfect campfire. It was rather hot, at first (we all had to move our chairs back about five feet), but it burned steadily and without the constant need for more fuel. We could enjoy it and not have to ever get up for more firewood.





Slowly, the evening slipped into night. An almost-full-moon came out, shining silvery through the trees and the mist, coyotes howled in the distance, classic rock played quietly on the radio, and everyone sat around an effortlessly burning campfire in perfectly temperate weather. And as beautifully as it began, the Fourth of July came to a close.

Camping, Part II: It’s So Easy, a Child Could Do It

One of my best friends has a fantastic recipe for Monkey Bread. She happened to mention in passing that she would like to make Monkey Bread during the camping trip, but was stuck on how to cook it without an oven.

“Monkey bread?!” I said, “Monkey Bread?! I will *make* you an oven out of a cardboard box and some tinfoil if that’s what it takes to get monkey bread on this trip.”

As it turns out, you actually can make an oven out of tinfoil and a cardboard box. I downloaded the instructions from a “Camping with Kids” website, and they looked simple enough. I mean, if a ten-year-old can do it (with adult supervision of course), I figure we’ve got a decent shot at making it work.

The basic concept is that you cover the cardboard box with tinfoil and set it over your baking pan, trapping the heat from the coals and cooking your food. You use four soda cans, half-filled with water, to elevate the pan over the fire. Because there’s not actually any flames (just coals), and your box is covered in tinfoil, theoretically, the cardboard will not catch on fire.



The boys were skeptical. I knew that if this didn’t work (and we gave ourselves about a 50% chance) my friend and I were going to be mercilessly teased for the remainder of the camping trip. That whole phrase, “I got the directions off a website for kids. A ten year old could do it.” would come back to haunt me.



Well, the most amazing thing happened.

It worked. IT ACTUALLY WORKED.

It took about an hour over the fire, and out came a perfectly cooked pan of monkey bread.



The box didn’t catch on fire. We didn’t burn the monkey bread. We didn’t burn ourselves. It was delicious. Both the monkey bread and the victory, which we could then wave in the faces of all our skeptics.

We were gracious in our victory, however, and let them eat some.

Camping, Part I: Because Matches Aren't Good Enough

Sometimes my husband surprises me. Like, when we’re getting ready to start the campfire and he brings out the blow torch.

Yes really, the blow torch. We are so classy.

Thus, please enjoy my pictorial essay on How to Light a Campfire With a Blow Torch. Somebody should post this on WikiHow so I can get my 15 minutes. (Well, maybe not, because it’s probably a bad idea for people to be running around our national forests with blow torches. Smoky the Bear would be crying himself to sleep.)

Step 1: Get firewood

No… scratch that.

Step 1: Go to ATM and pull out $100, because that’s about how much you’ll need to buy wood in the middle of the desert.

Step 2: Get firewood



Step 3: Gather together your materials.



Step 4: Put the wood inside the fire ring. Keep the beer separate from the other materials, so that you can periodically hydrate while working hard at making the campfire.



Step 5: Break out the blow torch. Light wood.





Step 6: Get another beer, since you’ve finished the first one. Then sit back and relax.

Camping: an Introduction to our Fourth of July Adventure

For the Forth of July, Chris and I planned a camping trip with four of our friends (and their 3 Chihuahuas). The average temperature in Phoenix that week was 110 degrees Fahrenheit, and Southern California was hitting the 100’s, so everyone was ready for some 75 degree weather.

Due to thunderstorms clouding the skies from LA to Phoenix, we opted to drive instead of fly the plane. (Read: small aircraft and thunderstorms do not mix well). Aside from a brief moment of panic when the air conditioner cut out in the middle of the Mojave desert (it came back on) the drive was uneventful.

Our camping destination was Knoll Lake up on the Mogollon Rim. For those of you who don’t know, the Mogollon rim is part of the Colorado Plateau (the same plateau that makes up the Grand Canyon), and although it’s only a few hours north of Phoenix, at 7500 feet elevation it is decidedly cooler.



Because getting to the lake requires about an hour of driving on gravel forest roads, it’s more secluded than some of the other lakes in the area. It also offers dispersed camping, which means two things:

1) You don’t have to pay for a campsite (yay, tax dollars!)
2) Camping spots are primitive - but also private and woodsy

Basically, there’s a bunch of clearings off the road with fire rings. You find one you like (that hasn’t already been claimed, of course) and stake your territory.

After a little driving around, we came across the Best. Campsite. Ever. It was one of the last dispersed campsites down a dirt road that branched off the main access to the lake. We were only about 3 miles from the lake (a 10 minute drive), there were no campsites within sight of ours and virtually no traffic came this far down the access road.

I will regale you with some pictures.










And don’t forget our new tent, the Taj Mahal. I’m not kidding, this thing has CLOSETS. Yes, closets. We saw it on sale for $40, and considering our old tent had holes in the ceiling (NOT fun when it rains) we jumped at the chance for a fancy new tent.



Once camp was set up, it was time to build a fire. And for that, you will have to read the next blog post: Because Matches Aren’t Good Enough.