The Magic of Timothy

I'm a fan of Timothy Riggs, the magician behind "The Magic of Timothy."
I have been since the last time I saw him at the SCERA and even then, I wondered why a magician of such skill was working in a local venue. At the time, I said he could probably work in Vegas year round.
After my interview with him, I grabbed my husband and a couple of grandkids and chased him down at a place in West Valley known as Hollywood Connections where he puts on free magic shows every Saturday afternoon.
Again, I was amazed and entertained.
Not only does Timothy do a whole variety of tricks including juggling flaming swords, bowling pins and sharp knives, he does so with facial expressions that highlight the magic.
He's funny and he obviously takes a lot of delight in amusing others. He combines magic with comedy and gets a kick out of poking a lot of fun at himself.
He involves the audience. He levitates people. He gets himself into and out of dangerous situations.
He'll be doing a show again at the SCERA on Oct. 26th and the tickets are cheap.
It's worth checking out, believe me.

My review of the new Footloose

Marc and I were invited to the advance screening of "Footloose" and since we got complimentary tickets and a free T-shirt, I feel I should put out a review. (The Deseret News already had two reviewers lined up).  Oh, wait, they've posted it. Here's the link: http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705392508/New-Footloose-is-sexier-smoother-and-makes-for-a-wild-ride.html

Zombies falling down

There was a spooky story in today's paper.
I usually try to avoid gruesome tales while I'm trying to eat my eggs and bacon but this one caught my eye.
I just had to tell Marc about it and it made us both laugh.
Seems a movie company was trying to shoot footage of a bunch of zombies coming for the kill in Toronto for the Resident Evil series. They were on some sort of raised, wheeled platform doing their zombie thing when the platform collapsed.
A bunch of the zombies were dumped off the platform and hurt when they fell through a gap between platforms.
It was hard to tell how badly any one zombie was hurt because they were already bloody and ragged with missing limbs, gory wounds and white-painted faces.
I gather it was quite the task trying to sort out zombie-ness and injury.
Loved these lines: "Rescue workers at first were startled at the seemingly catastrophic scene.
"I could see the look on the first paramedic, saying 'Oh my God,'" Toronto emergency medical services Commander David Ralph said with a laugh.
At last count, there were 12 of the 16 dumped zombies hurt, from cracked ribs to a broken leg to pulled back muscles.
Now, in case anybody out there is related to one of these zombies and thinks I'm being insensitive, I know it's not really funny.
When people get hurt, it usually isn't.
But you gotta admit, in this instance, it's a little bit of a chuckle, don't you think, specially this close to Halloween?

Lordy, Lordy, he can't be forty

Hard to believe I have a son who's turning 40 today.
I remember it like it was yesterday, trying to finish a quilt I was tying and no matter what position I sat or crouched in, I was uncomfortable.

Dana at 2

Dana's father called home and I shared my discomfort and he wanted to come right home.
I told him I didn't think it was labor. I was pretty sure labor was much worse.
He was right and so was I.
I was in labor and actual labor is much worse. Turns out I was just getting going.
But a few hours later, I had this beautiful baby boy.
All mine.
Well, a little bit his daddy's too but all mine in the sense that I got to take him home from the hospital like a thank you gift.
I played with this little guy and hugged this little guy and as he grew older, I spent hours doing puzzles and string art with him.
He was busy and I was too, trying to keep him entertained and progressing. He seemed to have a mind that couldn't quite get enough.

Dana the Cub Scout

Sometimes at night, when he was still just a toddler, he'd still be up at 2 a.m. doing Light Bright pictures.
He went everywhere and did everything, trying on life like a new shirt. He didn't worry about where he was or getting lost because as he seriously explained to me when he was about 3, "I know where I am, mom!"
He was curious and inventive and all kinds of fun. After his father and I divorced, he was my "date" for the Gold and Green ball for a couple of years.
He was a champion debater, an Eagle Scout, a good big brother and a wonderful son.
Today he owns his own company together with his wife who is just as brilliant. He routinely does things and handles problems I don't even understand.
He's capable and confident.
He's not too happy about turning 40 but then neither am I since I was 20 when he was born so if he's 40, that would make me...uh, ummm, I'm not sure.

Dana all grown up

I told you I wasn't all that good with math.

My kind of Tea Party

Adell the Witch

Fiona the Elephant

I know there's a lot of talk these days about the Tea Party people and their politics.
I just want to go on record as a grandma who thinks a Tea Party should be full of fun and sugar and sweet grandchildren.

Justice Berrylicious

On Saturday, we had such an event with eight little girls from ages 3-11.

Hannah the Fairy

They came in finery and costume and lined up to toss candy kisses into bowls, pound graham crackers into dust for crust and string beads on twine for a necklace.

Alyson the Puppy

They looked for buried treasure and found Barbie dolls at the end of each journey.
Several promptly took their Barbies swimming in the tiny toy pool. A couple tried to negotiate a trade for a blonde doll or vice versa but most of the kids were just amazed to get a real Barbie for a prize. (I found a great sale.)
It was hectic and funny and made do-able because Marc and a couple of my daughters who are now mommys stayed to help.

Austyn the Starlet

(It's amazing how hard it can be to get a 6-year-old to layer ice cream over a graham cracker crust or to get a 9-year-old NOT to use up all the Reddi-Whip on one pie.)

"Tangled" Emma

We went all over the house looking for the dolls, each wrapped in brown paper sacking. We opened drawers and cupboards and even checked the fridge when the clue said to look for a place for dirty sox? (One suspicious child asked me if there really was anything inside the wrapping or if I had just hidden boxes.?)
In the end everybody seemed happy with their booty and I'm putting a wrap on another successful grandma event. (In my mind, successful includes no one getting seriously injured or throwing a fit.)
Cousins and siblings made friends.
Big kids helped little kids. (Who knew a 3-year-old couldn't read a typewritten clue?)
Patience ruled the day and everyone went out the door with a doll, a ring, a necklace and a tummy full of ice cream pie.

Sleek Samantha

The only complaints I'm getting are from the boys who weren't invited to the girl's Tea Party.
Their party comes next.

Which way out?

I had finished my interview with Angela Johnson, the artist who has sculpted a breathtaking series of pieces representing Christ and his life.
We were at Thanksgiving Point deep into the gardens when I realized she needed to stay to see the last sculpture installed and I needed to go back to my car which was up the hill and around the bend.
We had driven down in a little electric golf cart because it was kind of a long ways.
I looked at Angela and asked her if she wanted me to walk back so she could stay.
"Oh, no!" she said, "You take the cart. It's fine."
Hmm. I looked at the vehicle sitting there all innocently on the cobblestones.
I'd never driven one but how hard can it be? Old men and young boys drive them around golf courses all the time.
I got in.
Angela showed me how to put it in reverse and forward and told me just to push the pedal down all the way to make it go.
I backed up and circled.
Not so difficult. I took off, thinking how pleasant the day was.
That's when I noticed I hadn't paid a lot of attention as to how we got to the sculpture garden.
More importantly, I hadn't paid any attention to how I would get back out on my own.
I started around the flower beds — of which there are a lot! — and headed toward the hedge.
Can't go through a hedge.
I looked for an escape route. There was a sort of gate with a post in the middle but it didn't look wide enough for my cart.
I tooled around in a circle hoping to figure this out before Angela noticed my plight. I wanted to continue to look cool.
There was a pathway but it had little barriers on the side that prevented my driving onto the path.
I finally decided to take a chance on the gate and luckily, me and the cart squeezed through.
Home free?
Not quite.
Now I was rocking along but I didn't know which way to go. I headed west until I came to a bridge that said "No golf carts!" I headed east until the path became narrow and winding, obviously not the right way. There were more "No golf carts!" signs.
I headed north across the lawn raising the eyebrows of a few gardeners along my way.
I knew if I kept going toward the clubhouse I might luck out so that became my plan.
I went all around, ending up at the waterfull and nearly knocking down a family out enjoying the cool morning.
I saw most of the gardens and sailed along for what might have been a fun ride if I hadn't been so worried about finding my way out without undue embarrassment.
Eventually I made it to the top of the hill and to the clubhouse terrace but on most of the ride I was thinking "So this is what they mean when they talk about being led down the garden path."
You can get in but you can't get out.

Biking on the left, the right and the middle

Marc and I are bikers so to anyone who reads this and starts to take offense, don't think we don't know how it feels to be run into the gravel, over the side or pushed by a mouth-breathing car inches behind your bike.
But Saturday as we drove over the Alpine Loop to see the changing leaves, we met some guys who give us all a bad rap.
We were coming from the Sundance side early in the day so as to avoid the heavy traffic and we weren't in any particular hurry.
We were just cruising along enjoying the spectacular sights and trying to avoid collision with the cars, trucks and RVs coming around the numerous blind curves.
Basically, with the windows open and the radio playing, we were averaging about 25 miles an hour when we came up a pair of guys biking in front of us.
They were sort of on the side and sort of three feet in the middle so Marc didn't dare pass them until he could get a clear shot.
He slowed to about 10 miles an hour (It's obvious that it's not an easy climb for bikers and the road is not very wide at all with no usable shoulders for the most part).
We plugged along for a while when we saw a curve coming up that had a partial turnout on the right.
Marc thought the bikers were pulling over to let us past so he accelerated just as a big car came around on the left with a biker person in the middle.
The two bikers ahead of us did NOT pull over but instead burst out in front of us, causing us to have to brake hard and veer to the right toward the drop-off.
It was scary there for several minutes.
We were happy to avoid disaster but apparently somehow through it all we offended the bikers because now there were not only ahead of us but WAY out in the road.
The one guy was on the side but the other was about six feet out, making it impossible to pass him even without oncoming traffic.
He stubbornly held his position for several more miles until we came to the Cascade Springs turn-off at which point he stopped and hollered something rude at us as we went by.
I'm still trying to identify our sin, our mistake.
Were we not entitled to some of the road?
Was there somewhere else we were supposed to go?
If we hadn't been careful, we could've killed everybody.. and eventually the traffic backing up behind us might have run out of patience, don't you think?
I realize that these guys need to be cut a little slack and when we saw a lone biker holding up miles of traffic coming up from the other side, we sympathized both with him and with the cars behind him.
But seriously, hogging the middle of the road on purpose?
What does that accomplish?